#talking about 'you're losing me"

[vaguely-concerned]

there's this borderline hysterical laugh garak breaks into a couple of times during the early seasons that is so special to me. like. this man. this man is so high (constantly) and probably drunk (frequently) and he's at all times teetering on the very brink of despair that only pure spite, immense stubbornness, and getting to gaze at julian bashir's smiling face across the lunch table once a week is holding him back from tipping over. and then he has to deal with people like skrain dukat and gul toran on top of that and you can practically hear the cracks forming as he's barely holding on to whatever remains of his sanity by the skin of his teeth

[shirebarbie]

the way that “you’re losing me” starts off slow and composed and oh im just sitting here thinking but as it progresses it gets more hysterical and desperate and all over the place and she’s going from trying to prove she’s worth it and the best thing at the party to empathizing with him “i wouldn’t marry me either” to try and convince him to fight and to do something and then the slow realization in the end as the song calms down again that he’s made a decision and that’s just it

[hellamorte]

do you ever think about how lucanis keeps losing and losing and losing — his entire life? losing his parents, losing his childhood because of the crow training, losing his freedom, his sleep, and one year of his life due to imprisonment. then the maker smiles upon him, and he's discovering something good (rook, the veilguard team, purpose), acquiring something back (his family, his life, his freedom, his job, his city), finding some peace in mundane things (coffee, cooking, taking care of others). it feels like the scales are finally moving, balancing — only for him to lose again. he loses caterina, he can lose his city to blight, he loses at weisshaupt, he loses grip on himself (thanks to spite), he loses control — he loses himself, piece by piece. rook can help lighten the load on his chest (thanks to spite), he gets caterina back, and breathing feels a little bit easier. but loss is not done with him. he loses illario, and it feels like losing a limb, a large piece of himself violently torn away. he's visibly shaken, but no one truly knows what it takes to string the assorted pieces of himself together and keep functioning. and then loss deals what seems like the final blow: some of his friends are dead or lost, and rook is gone, too. he failed; he only knows death, doesn't he? life only takes, and takes, and takes, giving only to tease and take it back. at that moment, he's falling apart completely — until they find rook, and there's a sliver of hope once again. the scales are moving, the team wins, they eventually go back to their lives — and that's when he realizes that the final blow is the life as the first talon.

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends au danny is submissive the same way a dog wearing a muzzle is submissive, send tweet.

[rotisseries]

who wants to hear my absolutely stunning ideas for atla soap opera aus

[arohuacheng]

imagining the story from pei ming's perspective is rlly funny i think. this god from all that time ago ascends again (you were there for the first two times) and immediately waltzes into a situation that fucks something up for your descendant (putting both of your reputations on the line, messing up how hard your descendant worked to become a god and how hard you worked to ensure that he would have that chance) and then refuses to let you smooth the situation out and on TOP of that your friend's little sister (who hates you and who you are trying to look out for by request of your friend) is on your case about it too. so you've gotta work all that out and then like. you chill for a little bit (still kind of upset about your descendant) until your friend undergoes a heavenly calamity. and then in the space of like A Day the god from earlier shows up again with a fucking ghost king, your friend dies, the little sister you're supposed to be looking out for disappears, and everything just kinda goes to shit. so you're like. grieving. trying to process everything. until your OTHER close friend goes off the fucking rails with the spirit of that guy she murdered, and then you get called out to the spooky ghost mountain where you're confronted with the girl whose death YOU were essentially responsible for and have never really come to terms with, and then like. you just kind of hang out with these gay people until everything resolves itself. fight some ghosts. fight the heavenly emperor. get your friend to stop being evil for a little while so she can fix the filing systems. and then you just have to keep being the god of love i guess

[thanatologie]

i said it elsewhere but i want it here, too: like people really out here ignoring the fact that emmrich's actually pretty physically active, huh? the necropolis alone is a death trap, and here's out here traipsing all over it by himself. he swims. he ice skates. he gets up at the ass crack of dawn to exercize. he probably hikes so he can go look at flowers.

it's not like in the general rule of things you hit your thirties and your bones crumble,

[mintaikk]

Me reading a fic where the person had an identidy realization that they were in he aroace spectrum and now they were figuring themselves out(I finally found something that understood me and a romance I could relate to after all these years)

[deoidesign]

.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[swiftiecrow]

"And I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser, who only wanted you to see him"

"And I'm fading thinking do something babe, say something (say something) Lose something babe, risk something (you're losing me)"

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[qstarhalo]

I think I've said this before but there's something about the fact that q!Bad is related to Death in a way. He's a Grim Reaper, part time or not, he's a Grim Reaper. And his relationships with the eggs are just so unique. Especially with Tallulah.

Bad and Tallulah value family in a unique way I must say. We always tease on how Bad misses Skeppy and question his actions (ex. Skeppy toaster) but character wise, Skeppy is the only person Bad knows that will never leave. And now he's gone. One of his main comforts. Gone. Taken away from him. Just how he had to take away the souls of people who didn't want to be taken away. It hurts. And he knows that hurt, especially with the dead eggs.

Wilbur has been so soft with Tallulah and that has been her comfort since the beginning. The softness and gentleness. Tallulah wanting to hear his letters is comfort to her because it's from someone who held her so gently. So gentle like his voice. And expressive. Expressive like his music. He's a storyteller and Tallulah finds comfort in Wilburs stories.

Both situations are so unique yet so similar. Both of them miss someone who is now gone. So when Tallulah calls Bad a father figure, when she asks him when Phil isn't around to take her back home or if they can talk in a quieter place or if he can read her the letters from Wilbur, it hurts. Because Tallulah has found comfort in Bad. Bad, a Grim Reaper. Bad, one who holds so much guilt and sadness for the eggs deaths. Bad, someone who understands her in a similar way. And Bad, he understands her worries and her feelings because he's in the same situation. It's easier said than done when it comes to missing someone and they both know it. It hurts badly but it's something they're trying to accept.

Just, the implication that a little girl finds comfort in a Grim Reaper (and an Angel of Death, can't forget about Phil) hits me a lot.

[wexhappyxfew]

one after the next

(a/n): first vivian x blakely piece! first vivian x blakely piece!!!! screaming crying losing my mind. THEM! really can't get enough of this piece and just how perfectly they sort of slot into each other's lives in this moment in time. you'll see what i mean.....just, THEM. vivian ratcliff deserves all the love and hugs there is in this world! certified that carrie achterberg is also chaotic af! <3 (also peep the bucky and dougie cameos here lmao)

"I shot down at least 3," Vivian said firmly, removing her cigarette from her lip, "right when they were hitting us at the beginning."

"Yeah," Kennedy chimed in, "saw it with my own eyes. Looked like they were trying to target one side of the plane. Over and over, Lieutenant. Ratcliff handled her own though, but it was pretty persistent." Vivian watched as the interrogator made a few notes before looking to Lieutenant Bradshaw again.

"And you can confirm all the information you've spoken now at this table is to the truth?" he asked her, and Lieutenant Bradshaw nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir." she said. The interrogator nodded, making a few more notes on his pad of paper before looking about the group, giving a curt nod and standing to his feet.

"Alrighty then, you ladies are all set." he said, reaching forward to shake Lieutenant Bradshaw's hand, to which she stood and firmly shook the Lieutenant's hand.

"Thank you, sir." Lieutenant Bradshaw said with a slight smile. The interrogator nodded to her before looking to the rest of the group, giving a firm nod before disappearing out the door to Operations. A few other tables were still in their own sessions it seemed, but for the moment, Vivian could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly dissipate as she took a long drag of her cigarette and sighed.

"I swear to fucking God," Carrie said from beside her, looking to the group, "they were targeting Viv's side the entire time."

"Not entirely," Vivian offered, leaning forward, "Kenny took some shots from her side, too. Clean and clear cut."

"I know," Carrie said quietly, before placing her cigarette back on her lip with a sigh, "I just get tired of when they start coming in sideways. Nailing the shit outta you before going for Jude, it's bullshit, swear to God."

"You need another drink." Lieutenant Montez offered from beside Lieutenant Bradshaw, nodding to the already finished shot glass in front of Carrie.

"Damn right, Monty," Carrie said, "thought one of those things was gonna come through the front of the plane, give Bes and I a real wake up call, huh?"

"Yeah!" Bessie said leaning forward and looking to Carrie, "You shoulda seen the one, a few more inches and that bombsight would've been in the subpens." A few chuckles rang out around the group as Vivian continued to sit, listening to the quiet chatter of the group.

Usually after missions, it was always like this. Something Captain Faulkner used to do for the crew - to let off some steam, shoot the shit with your crew about whatever the hell you had just witnessed, dropping the formalities without a Captain breathing down your neck, and a few cigarettes and shots to go around.

Vivian slowly looked around the room, looking to a few other tables, noticing Major Cleven's crew talking still, along with Captain Blakely and Major Egan's crew. There was something about still seeing those planes return that kept her mind at bay.

"You all really need to experience this sorta stuff from a ball turret," Judy said with a chuckle, "every time, I swear one of those planes is gonna sweep the bottom of Silver Bullets, clean me out and send me flying."

"Ain't no way none of us are letting that happen, Jude," Carrie called, placing her cigarette on her lip, standing to her feet and imitating shooting a gun, "I'd bring my gun up, BOOM, BOOM, that sucker would be dead."

"Damn, Bergie, you shoulda been at Hollywood!" Margie called with a chuckle, a joking tone to her voice, "The hell you doing here?" Carrie smirked and took a bow.

"To beat up some Nazi shit, that's what." Carrie said, settling again into her seat as the group chuckled at her words, "If I'm ever face to face with one of 'em, Ich werde ihre Köpfe haben-"

"Come again?" Marianne offered from beside Carrie, "I'll take it as whatever you said, it ain't pretty-"

"You can bet your bottom dollar on that, Mari," Carrie said, "I'd have their fucking heads." Vivian watched as Lieutenant Bradshaw smirked quietly.

Lieutenant Bradshaw was always noticeably quiet after interrogation - like she was coming down from it all, taking the time to digest everything, come to terms with it. She always looked different in this light. Vivian watched as Lieutenant Bradshaw took a quick cigarette drag before looking up behind Vivian.

"Captain Blakely." Lieutenant Bradshaw said, causing heads to turn, voices to silence and cigarettes to return to lips. Vivian slowly looked up and over her shoulder and found him coming to stand right behind her, slowly removing a cigarette from his lips, the smoke swirling upwards above, and behind him.

Ev Blakely looked noticeably worn, sweat and grease glistening on his forehead, his tired eyes moving around the group, as he approached, a small smile riding his face.

"Lieutenant," Captain Blakely said, giving a quick salute towards Lieutenant Bradshaw and the rest of the group as he approached, "you all alright? Saw you take that hit back when we were over IP."

"Just fine, sir." Lieutenant Bradshaw answered for the group, a small smile growing on her face, "we were just listening to Lieutenant Achterberg recount what she'd do if she ever had the rather opportune chance to engage with one of those German fighters."

"Oh yeah?" Captain Blakely said, turning to look at Carrie, a small smirk on his face as he took a drag of his cigarette, "Mine as well show it, looks like they're starting to target different elements of the wing every time we go out now."

"That's what I'm saying, sir." Carrie called valiantly from her chair, as she settled into it again.

"We figured it had to do with our first engine going out early on, followed by the third," Lieutenant Bradshaw said, "smoke trails and all. Easy target."

"Sounds about right if my track record keeps up." he said, his eyes moving around the group again, steadying for a moment on Vivian's to which he offered her a slight pinprick of a smile. She usually was fairly stoic in times like these, at the interrogation table, on the plane, letting those bullets rip.

But, she found herself smiling back as he went and looked at their pilot.

"Left side though," Lieutenant Bradshaw started, letting out a low whistle, "took quite the beating. Lost two engines, then began to lose the third, sir. Poor Ratcliff had to jerry-rig her .50 cal up just to shoot the thing." Blakely turned to look at Vivian with a raised brow.

Vivian was born into the mechanics of life it seemed - she practically grew up learning all there was to fix and figure out any sort of issue that required fixing with metal.

"It's true, sir," Vivian said with a nod, "the JU-88s got a hit on the left gun, took her out almost immediately. Spent 3 minutes getting it back working, greased her up and got her working again. They were hitting that side whenever they could afterwards."

"Damn," Blakely said quietly, eyes meeting her own, "they didn't get you anywhere did they?"

"Just under the eye." Vivian said, pointing to the scabbed spot underneath her right eye, "Caught me just above the mask. Thought Kennedy was gonna blow a gasket by the time we landed."

"Farley? Blowing a gasket?" Major Egan's voice chimed in as he came sauntering up to Captain Blakely's side, "Would of never guessed." The table let out a ring of chuckles as Kennedy narrowed her eyes.

"You were asking for it the one time, sir." she offered to him, that familiar joking tone to her voice as Major Egan chuckled, patting a hand on Captain Blakely's shoulder.

"Alright, maybe I was." Major Egan said, before addressing the group, "Saw you ladies take a few hits out there."

"That's what we were just telling Captain Blakely, sir," Judy piped up from her spot, calmly rebraiding her hair as she looked up at him, "especially our Viv." Major Egan looked to Vivian this time, with a rather surprised look on his face, and Vivian caught the spare glance Captain Blakely seemed to send her as well.

"After I got my .50 cal working again, sir," Vivian started, "I let 'em have it. Silver bullets and all." Major Egan chuckled.

"Knew I was always a Viv Ratcliff fan," he said, "gotta let those Krauts have it when they beg for it, ya know?"

"That's what I'm saying." James Douglass chimed in from somewhere near the other table, picking up his crusher cap and wading over, "Swear to God, anymore ricochets into the side of the nose, I was gonna let them have it. Open up, just go in, guns' a'blazin'."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Carrie called from her spot at the table, removing the cigarette to point at him, "I swear to God, Dougie, it looked like one was coming for you at one point, came twirlin' outta the sky. Acting dead, still shootin'."

"You saw that, too?" Dougie said, before looking over at Blakely and Egan, "I told you two. The thing was coming straight for us."

"You still got it shot down though, Doug." Egan said with a smirk, slapping Dougie's back, "Before we could even get eyes on it."

"That's because someone was spending too much time telling a joke rather than paying attention to that fucker flying at me." Dougie offered with a chuckle, a few of the girls at the table snickering at his words.

"Alright," Blakely said, stepping forward, "let's all get outta here. Missions done anyway. Get ourselves at least a meal, or better yet, a drink."

"Don't gotta tell me twice, sir!" Carrie said, standing from her seat, others beginning to follow.

"Ev Blakely knows a thing or two about a drink, huh?" Egan said, pointing at Carrie with a smirk as she blew out a drag of smoke.

"That and how to dance, that's all I gotta say." Carrie said as she came around the table. Vivian laughed quietly to herself, staring forward at the center of the table, watching as Lieutenant Bradshaw began to clean up some of the notes, some of the model planes that were scattered about the center.

"Hey, Vivi." Vivian looked up, feeling Blakely's hand on her shoulder, and met his gaze, his big eyes watching hers softly, "You okay?" Vivian hoped she hadn't looked distracted, or dazed out. A quick smile fell onto her face.

"Yeah." she said, her tone light, her smile bright, "You?"

It was always like this since Jimmy had passed, since she'd gotten the letter from the Navy, telling her that he had been KIA. The thought kept her up most nights, sometimes to the point where she'd cry and cry and cry until she fell asleep, silent as a judge. Keeping it to herself - this pain, this grief.

Annie Bradshaw kept her tabs well.

And she usually was checking on Vivian daily - but so was Ev Blakely.

"Glad to be on solid ground again." he said, his tone that quiet hum he seemed to use when it was just the two of them. Slowly, Blakely sat down in the chair that Margie had previously occupied and looked towards her, putting on another soft grin again, Lieutenant Bradshaw sending her a look before disappearing with the maps.

"How're you doing? Truly, Vivi." he asked her, hands braided together as they draped over his knees. Vivian watched him, her right hand which was rested up on the table, slowly closing into a fist.

"I'm okay." she said with a nod - she refused to beat around the bush with him, or anyone really, "Just…focusing on each mission. One after the next." She nodded and watched him.

Blakely was typically the one to see through that she found. The walls she'd put up, the words she'd put out there so the others didn't have to worry. She hated the thought of the others having to worry that she'd lose her mind or go crazy from spiraling emotions. She hated that she constantly considered those options. Blakely tilted his head to the side and nodded back.

"One after the next." he said, continuing to watch her in a quiet manner. A small smile crept onto her lips as she looked down to his hands instead.

"Bergie was getting pretty passionate." Blakely commented, his voice low, but gentle - this is how it usually was. They got quiet - she enjoyed sitting in the silence with him - and then they'd talk about the mission. And sometimes, she'd bring up home. Or Jimmy. And he'd sit and listen; big, brown eyes and all.

"You shoulda heard her when we were up there." Vivian said quietly, watching Blakely beginning to light up a cigarette - they did this, too. Shared a cigarette. Blakely laughed lowly, somewhere under his breath and put the cigarette on his lip.

"She's laser-focused up there, quiet, does what she needs to. But sometimes - I swear to God, it's like the Germans egg her on. She thinks she's clicked off of comms." Vivian said, as Blakely leaned forward and handed her the cigarette, blowing some smoke from his lips. She placed it on her lip, taking a deep drag before sighing.

"She's lucky she's got Annie Bradshaw." Vivian said with a chuckle and Blakely smirked at her as she shook her head, "She lets a curse slip here and there." Blakely chuckled and took back the cigarette as she leaned forward to pass it back.

"You should hear Major Egan," Blakely said, his eyes continuing to observe her in this moment, "whole bird's shaking like its about to explode and he's yelling, cursing. Usually just smack his shoulder, he gets his wits back."

Vivian found a laugh escaping from her lips at the thought of Major Egan doing such. Which wouldn't surprise her. She'd seen him in many lights - in the morning, on alcohol, late in the night, and both before and after a mission. She wouldn't be surprised.

Blakely leaned forward with the cigarette and she took it from him and grew quiet again, letting her left hand rest against her knee for a moment, fingers tapping the torn bit of her uniform at the knee she'd gotten. Kraut prop blast into her side, which had sent her onto the floor. Scrapped up knee, dried blood. Just like a kid again. Except it wasn't.

"How's Monty?" Blakely asked her. It'd been over 2 and 1/2 months since losing Birdie - that's all life seemed to be.

Losing, losing, lost.

Lost, losing, losing.

"She's okay," Vivian said with a small smile, bringing the cigarette to her lip, taking a drag before blowing it out and passing it back to him, "big Annie Bradshaw fan. Just like the rest of us." Vivian bit her lip. "I see her at night though, just looking at the sky sometimes. Like she's reliving it." Blakely was quiet, the cigarette in his hand, which was now rested on his own knee.

"It was the loss of her life, I feel." Vivian whispered, meeting Blakely's eyes again.

They both grew quiet again - Vivian remembered it all like a distant memory. One you tried to shove away, and one you tried to forget. She remembered the sound through her headset, the sound of Captain Faulkner dying, and then - gone. She remembered what Lieutenant Montez had said - I'm manning the plane now. She remembered it all. Blakely passed the cigarette back to her, which she took gratefully and then sighed, taking a drag. Blowing smoke.

"I must admit, Ev," she said, handing back the cigarette, a small smile on her lips, "I think you have more important matters than sitting here with me." Blakely grinned at her, placing the cigarette on his lip.

"Nah," he said, voice quiet as he shook his head, reaching up a hand to run back over his wet curls on his head, clinging to his sweaty forehead, "the drinks can wait." Vivian smiled.

For a second, it was completely silent in the interrogation hut, save for the sound of voices just outside, the bustle of unpacking from a mission, the rumble of jeeps and trucks, along with the clang of metal in the far-off distance.

Vivian always found herself observing him, trying to get inside his head - why he would sit with her after missions, watch her so gently, listening with the greatest intent. Offering a cigarette and a drink. He always would seem so much more relaxed, laid back, his eyes all soft the way they usually went, his body looking worn and tired. He continued to watch her back, as they passed the cigarette between them until it was basically a dud. And by the time she'd taken the last bit of what she could from it, he was watching her in a wistful manner.

"I got a letter from my Ma last night," Vivian said, looking to him this time uncertainly, and watching as his eyes grew serious, leaning forward in earnest, "nothing bad just. With everything that's happened. Knowing how she's feeling. With me here. And that I can't change that." Vivian felt her shoulders drop as she sighed.

She'd always been close with her parents and her brother, even when she was younger, a more emotional and radical teen, than now - 25, a good head on her shoulders, a smile on her face. And her mother had always been protective of her only daughter, now over an entire ocean and in a new country, having lost the man she was planning on marrying.

Now having to navigate that level of loss by herself.

Of course, the distractions of war and having a crew like the Silver Bullets made this new reality not as scary. But sometimes all she wanted was to curl up next to her mother, have her mother's warmth and hugs, and cry her heart out to her. Vivian felt herself focus again and quickly looked to Blakely, who was still sat there, watching quietly. She smiled quickly.

"It's okay though," Vivian said firmly with a nod, "I told her I was okay. It'll be okay." Blakely held her gaze - and it looked as if he was going to say something, say something more than whatever his eyes were currently saying. But he didn't. And he didn't need to.

"And are you okay?" he said, watching her eyes shift away from his and down to her twtichy hand. Vivian leaned her head up against her hand on the table and nodded.

"I think I'm just tired." she said, ignoring the way her voice caught a bit, "I think some coffee could change that." Blakely watched her for a moment before chuckling at her words and nodding.

"Well, you're in luck then, Vivi, I know just the place." he said, a smirk growing on his lips, "Ever heard of this little place called Thorpe Abbotts chow hall?" Vivian laughed.

"No," she said as she stood, him following her movements, "you'll have to introduce me." Standing in front of him, looking up at him, she could see the worried look in his eye that had learned to live in his gaze ever since she had told him she'd lost Jimmy. Ever since she'd broken that news.

"Entrusting me, huh?" he asked her, his voice filled with a warmth that made her smile grow even more, "I'm honored, Vivi, really."

"Don't get ahead of yourself now, Ev," she said as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, the two slowly walking towards the exit, "it is the place that I have quite literally had every meal since being here." Blakely chuckled and pushed the door open, letting her step outside first before he followed, resuming wrapping an arm over her shoulders as they continued to walk outside now, the sweet, summer breeze ruffling their hair, removing the musk of the interrogation room, the entire feel of sitting in that room recounting death.

"You better drink some coffee, too, okay?" Vivian said, looking up at him, taking in the side of his face, his tired eyes, "Waking up at 0300 isn't for everyone."

"Says the morning person." Blakely said with a laugh, "Remember the time I saw you on your run?" Vivian let out a barking laugh, slapping her hand over her mouth as she looked at him.

"Oh God," she said, her eyes shining, "I felt so bad, Ev." Blakely bashfully looked down, before looking towards her again with a smirk.

"You caught me at the wrong time."

"And that's when I discovered you in fact were not a morning person." she offered back, before smiling, "You still clean up well though." Blakely smirked at her words.

"Guilty as charged, Vivi." he said with a grin.

"Smartass." she murmured and he let out a laugh, squeezing her to his side for a moment, "Hey, what are you up to tonight?" Blakely glanced down at her and then shrugged.

"Was considering the flying club. Maybe a drink or two," he said, watching her with a tender look, "or whatever you have in mind."

"No, no," she said with a laugh, "some of the girls, they'd considered going to one of the local pubs. Figured I'd invite you and the rest of your crew along."

"Say less," Blakely said with a smile, "I'll open the tab. Buy you ladies some drinks."

"You don't have to, Ev," she said with a shy smile, "you always do."

"Nah, nah, my treat." he said. Vivian smiled.

"I'll let you win in darts then," Vivian said, looking up at him with glowing eyes, "my treat." Blakely let out a laugh, looking down at her with a soft gaze and a wide grin.

"Smartass." he murmured. Safe to say, she didn't think about anything else for the rest of the day except coffee and then drinks and darts tonight.

One after the next.

[grapejuicegay]

just going to leave this here because well. it wasn't the only moment that broke me this week but this definitely broke me

[carouselunique]

Is it true that there's no animosity between you and... you know, you know who. You never talk about her in any way. I guess I'm curious. You guys seemed like really close friends and then just weren't friends at all. And there was some stuff she said that seemed very targeted at you...

I don't know if she feels any animosity toward me or not any more. Our mutual friends have said she doesn't and I take them on their word in that regard, assuming that if they have an answer for me it's because they're aware how she feels. I wouldn't know and it's not my place to put words in her mouth.

I haven't spoken to her/about her in a long time and the only time she even crosses my mind is when people bring her up to me. As for me feeling any animosity? I'll admit my feelings on her these days are complicated and way too nuance-core for people who aren't my friends to hear about but I wouldn't call them animosity in any way. I inherently want people my friends care about to live well because I care about my friends, and anyone my friends care about by proxy and I still share friends with her. I would never wish ill on people my friends care about so animosity doesn't fit into that by definition. I'd say I'm hurt more than anything and even then I've worked through a lot of it with trusted friends who have helped me deal with my emotions in a healthy way.

(Besides, my own life struggles keep me from even being able to invest time into animosity. I have to expend that energy loving my family, doing my best to support them during our struggles. And I've never been a hateful person it isn't in me. I would rather play 'Hot To Go' by Chappell Roan and teach my dad how to do the hand gestures to help him strengthen his muscles again than focus on hating anyone...)

I try not to think about her because it hurts. I often think that people forget that I'm a real person outside of her sphere, and that I wouldn't want to talk about what happened because I truly did consider her a friend for a long time. And when someone I consider a friend appears to not regard me with care any more suddenly and I don't even have closure on that... well... it hurts... A lot. Of course I never talk about it.

And I'm not stupid, I have seen some stuff she's said that I've gathered was about me. I remind myself that she has a right to vent in her own spaces and I truly mean that... it's just a shame that her own spaces have people who then have taken these things to me to show me (after all, I wouldn't have even seen these things myself if not for third-party anons going 'this u?') saying it is my own fault because I was a terribly cruel friend or my own fault for not listening to warnings about her when I had the chance and that makes me a stupid gullible bitch. You lot haven't seen some of the awful shit about me from some of her more ravenous fans and haters I've seen over the years that I've had to let roll off my back in the fear it would bring backlash - not even to me, to her. I don't want to be the cause of any hatred going to anyone.

Also I'm just not going to ever talk about the details of our fallen friendship or our fallen relationship. That's private. She might be a public person to some extent but I never was, even if I do gain some measure of small fandom for my work one day I'm just private about personal matters especially raw ones. I almost deleted this ask entirely but Idk I never stated that it bothers me when people talk to me about her from my own mouth, so I guess that's what this ramble is.

If you send me anything about Lily Orchard it will not be addressed. I am not a part of her life not even through our mutual friends. I do not know or care what's going on with her public/personal life. I haven't kept up. I will never keep up. Don't treat me as an extension of the situation because I am not in the situation. In the most plainly stated sense of the word: Leave me the Hell alone. (...pretty please.)

All I've wanted this entire time was to be left alone to process everything in a healthy, peaceful way. I'm workin' on it.