hi not to be insane again but isn’t it crazy that wolfman ann’s entire deal is either “be effectively immortal but you have to live the same life over and over with no way to change it once it resets” or “live an actual life with the knowledge you are going to die in about a year if not less”
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“Wish I had somethin’ to live for tomorrow”
having a tomorrow and nothing to live for vs having something to live for and no tomorrow :,)
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for me it’s not really about the sex. it’s about the smiles and the laughter the unshed tears in their eyes the white knuckle gripping of each other bc they’re all that they have left and they’re the only ones who can possibly understand each other. it’s about their lives being more intertwined than any two people’s have any right to be, it’s about how they want and they want and they want, but they don’t know exactly what they want from each other, not really, they just know they want to be close (need to be close), side by side, they don’t even need to be touching necessarily, though they do, just have the reassurance that they could if they needed to, it’s their inescapable codependency with each other, it’s the long searching gazes, it’s the silent don’t leave me don’t leave me in the clench of a jaw, stuffed down and unsaid because it’s something that can’t be said, not with them, it’s the looking away when the feelings of love-ache-want become too overwhelming and threaten to bubble up out of their chest and spill out all over the inside of their stupid car, it’s about losing their minds whenever the other is threatened and throwing all their principles and morality to the wayside until they’re safe and together again, it’s about knowing each other in the small things it’s about doing anything for each other in the big things, it’s about there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you, it’s about dying for each other over and over, it’s about their lives being empty without the other even when everything else about their life is better, it’s about dean and sam and sam and dean and all that they mean to each other. and yeah. sometimes it’s also about the sex
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Today I got to do my first pregnancy check on a cow, so I have my entire fucking arm inside this cow and all of a sudden I feel a little wretched fetus and I dead ass said, “Oh my god, there’s a creature in here”
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ohhh there’s a light. ohhhhhhh there’s a light. YOUR! ALBATROSS! LET IT GO LET IT GOOOO. YOUR! ALBATROSS! SHOOT IT DOWN SHOOT IT DOOOOOWN. when you just can’t shake the weight of living. when you just can’t seem to shake the weight of living IT’S THE SUUUUUUUUUUUN IN YOUR EYES IN YOUR EYES. IT’S THE SUUUUUUUUUN IN YOUR EYES IN YOUR EYES. IT’S THE SUUUUUUUUUUUN IN YOUR EYES IN YOUR EYES. IT’S THE SUUUUUUUNNNNNNN IN YOUR EYES IN YOUR EYES! btw!
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MICHAEL MELL 2019 HOODIE REFERENCE !!!
hello i’m sorry i’ll be back to my usual object show art shit soon i promise 🙏🙏 BUT i used a 3d model [ this one ] and countless references to make a complete reference of michael mell’s bway hoodie !!! probably messed some of the patches up , wrong placement or whatever but eeehhh . . mb if i did
ALSO !!! THIS tumblr blog was a big help w/ finding some of the pngs ^_^ !! i used promotional pictures and videos from the official youtube to try and find out every single one of the patches !! except i could never make out one . . [ if anyone knows what it is PLEASE TELL ME 🙏🙏 ] you can see said patch plus my struggling under the cut :3 !!
ok thank you that is all
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thinking deeply about vivian ratcliff. grew up in fort collins, colorado with a good family, a good childhood, filled with many homemade dinners and pastries after meals and flowers in pretty, passed-through-generations vases. her family had a big farm that’s been there for hundreds of years through the ratcliff family and she spent many summers riding horses, tending to the cows, chickens, pigs and her ma’s honeybee farm. they make quite the profit. she’s kind and conscientious, aspiring teacher, and a happy-go-lucky, calm-cool-and-collected type of girl. she’s content with where she is in life. and she wants to do things, see new places, read and learn all there is. and then she meets boyfriend-turned-future-husband when her dad needs a handy-man and james pennington shows up. she attends the university of washington and completes a program for teaching but goes into the military after graduation because of an opportunity to shoot and fly - and, with a war on, she could kill two birds with one stone and see the world and do something for it at the same time. with her parents a little less than happy and her boyfriend shipping out to the navy, viv takes this in stride. heading to utah, she gets a gig on a plane as a turret gunner before being accepted into Silver Bullets under captain birdie faulkner, the first female pilot of the war for america. the crew builds up, the friendships form and Silver Bullets is the finest B-17 there is. she writes to james, she keeps up with her family and friends back home, she goes to the flying club, and takes early morning runs around base. she’s content. things are good.
then, captain faulkner is KIA. flying a regular bombing run - freak accident with the shrapnel flying through the air. killing her right in the midst of the sky. viv remembers how numbed and equally freaked out francis was - how’d she manage to land a plane and maintain composure? lieutenant annie bradshaw is the newest replacement and finds herself next as the newest pilot of Silver Bullets. viv thinks things are okay, things are looking up.
then, a letter comes in. james pennington is KIA. her world seems to shatter. everything seems to crack open and equally fall apart. she’s half in a spiral and half trying to keep it together in front of everyone else. no one should see her like this. she hardly wants to see herself like this. annie bradshaw and the rest of the crew seems to pull her through; most surprisingly, so does everett blakely. he was always more in the background, a handshake, a comforting pat on the shoulder, willing to check in and move on his way. an all-around gentleman. then, she starts to notice him. at breakfast, at dinners, before missions, after missions, glances through the interrogation tables, before bed when cigarette butts were stubbed out and last minute conversations were held. everett blakely was always there.
then, the Silver Bullets crew is split across half of europe. and yet again, with 40% of the crew MIA, viv is sent to operations and is suddenly stepping into a world where her hands are filled more with pencils and papers and maps then a gun. yet again - without annie bradshaw and francis montez, who became a pilot for a new B-17 crew with quite an annoying co-pilot, viv feels more alone than ever. until ev blakely is there. always there. again. they grow closer than they ever had - breakfast together, sometimes even lunch and dinner, cigarette breaks, sharing coffee breaks, finding moments to take a glance throughout the operations room. moments viv didn’t think much of. until she was heading out for the night and ev invited her to the flying club for a drink and a dance.
and then the war ended. and everyone went their separate ways. and reality hit. and it hit hard. james pennington’s funeral, the reality that the man she was going to marry is now dead, and her family, torn at the edges, crumbling. she’s hurt, filled with a grief she can’t untangle and is lost between what to do and what else there is left for her. until everett blakely starts writing. and doesn’t stop writing. writing the Silver Bullets girls were on thing, but writing ev blakely was different - in his words, his phrases, what he talked about.
they decide to meet, and everything comes flooding back. like the crash of high waves, just as fast, just as harshly. and she doesn’t feel herself turn away like she would. and suddenly, she doesn’t want him to leave. and for the first time in her life, he doesn’t. he stays.
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