#this pretty much just covers some of the things i've learned over the last year or so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamwatch · 2 months ago

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Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Black Friday pop-up event.

Prompts: Black, Friday, "I'm not standing in line for that", Leftovers, Trampled, One Day Only, "I am giving thanks."

Yeah... all of them, and you're right, it was a stupid idea.

Word Count: Pt2 - 3670 | Rating: M | CW: Past suicidal ideation (very subtle, blink and you'll miss, I'm just being cautious) | POV: Mixed - Pt1 Eddie, Pt2 Steve, Pt3 Eddie | Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | Tags: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Gareth CC, Jeff CC, Matt CC, Wayne Munson, disabled Eddie Munson, pining, protective Gareth, protective Steve, kissing, guitars, reference to canon typical injuries, references to blood and injury- please let me know if you think I've missed any.

I'm posting in 3 parts, because this is nearly 12k in total, which is a lot. Mods - hope that's ok! I'll link them all together. :)

Part 2

Steve’s learned a lot about himself this past year.

He’s a good friend, for one, an excellent wing man, even if Robin continues to do her best to get in her own way.

He’s painfully patient with Dustin and the rest of the little assholes that have literally haunted his every waking moment for the last three years. He loves them, and they know it and they abuse that love on a near daily basis. Sadly, he wouldn’t change them for the world.

He doesn’t love Nancy anymore. He doesn’t want to think on that too much.

He’s done with dating. He’s done with the peacocking that comes with it, the effort of it when the person you’re with is just… okay. Nice enough. Inoffensive. He’s at that point in his life where he just needs something real, someone real, someone full of life, who makes him laugh, who wants to share everything with him. He’s done with quick fucks, the empty feeling of grabbing your clothes and sneaking out of bedrooms, of trying to get your pants on in the back of the bimmer. He wants love, and he’s not afraid to go after it now.

Oh, yeah, and he likes guys.

That’s probably not that much of a revelation, to him at least, Robin had been more intense about it.

“Now you tell me? Not when I was covered in piss and puke on the floor of a public bathroom, Steve, when I was sharing my deepest secrets with you, you tell me now, months later, you’ve had literally months, and it’s at this point in time, randomly while I am trying to re-shelve a weekend’s worth of returns, that you choose to drop this bombshell, this life changing moment, that you’ve been carrying around with you for, how long?”

“A few months.”

“A few months. A few months, he says like it’s no big deal. What is wrong with you?”

What was wrong with him was Eddie Munson. He’s still kind of getting his head around it all to be honest.

The guy thing was there for years, a low level thrum of attraction, of slightly too long looks, of grab-assing and horseplay in locker rooms and showers. Easy to pass off as nothing because they were all doing it, to one degree or another. Some, like Tommy Hagan, were less than subtle about it.

But the Eddie thing hit him like a bolt of lightning. Never saw it coming. One minute he’s a suspected murderer holding a broken bottle against Steve’s throat and the next Steve’s holding his hand while he’s cuffed to a hospital bed scared out of his mind.

There’s something to be said for seeing someone at their worst, there’s a pride from watching them climb back and knowing you had a part in that, being able to pat yourself on the back for it. But this isn’t the shared trauma that Robin talks of. This is pretty brown eyes and long lashes, this is dimples you want to sink your fingers into. This is hair you want to touch and hands you want to hold, and lips you want to kiss.

He’s spent so much time with Eddie over the last seven or eight months, and it’s snowballed; as the months roll on, the number of days they spend together has increased. At first it was to be helpful, for as much as the pair of them loved each other there was no way Eddie would feel comfortable with Dustin taking him to and from the bathroom to take a piss, or to hold his hair back when he puked, or to help him get dressed, or a multitude of other easy things that just became hard for him over night.

Steve could do those things for him. He wanted to do those things for him.

Eddie has other friends, sure, but Steve was there. He still has nights where all he can see imprinted on the back of his eyelids is Eddie’s corpse, can smell the penny scent of blood. His fingers twitch when he remembers how Eddie’s skin felt slippery, the sudden release of his chest as a rib breaks.

Those are things Eddie’s friends can’t know, and Steve is happy for them. He truly wishes he didn’t know, either.

They know things Steve doesn’t, however, and he needs their help.

Say what you want about Steve, but when he wants something he goes all out.

So dinner didn’t go well, but there’s not much he can do about that now. But just being there and seeing Eddie’s obvious pleasure at the effort at least did something to lift his spirits. And they had a nice evening, watching TV and talking late into the night until Eddie started to fall asleep on the couch and Steve took that as his cue to say goodnight, as much as he wanted to stay.

He nearly fucked up when he asked if Eddie wanted to hang with him and Robin for the day. He was like, ninety seven per cent sure Eddie would say no, the guy barely leaves the house these days, but just for a second he looked as if he was going to say yes. And that would have put a real crimp on Steve’s plans, because they had nothing to do with ferrying Robin around on a joy ride, and everything to do with Eddie.

He wakes early the day after Thanksgiving, despite the late night, which is not unusual for him; he still runs most days, he enjoys the feel of it, running through choice rather than because he’s trying to stay alive. It’s a decision he gets to make for himself, something he can own, and there hasn’t been an awful lot of that over the last few years.

But today he has a mission, and it starts with Dustin.

When he rolls up to the Henderson house it’s barely eight A.M., and there’s a good chance Dustin will still be in bed. So he does what the little shit heads would do. He bangs on Dustin’s bedroom window.

He peers through just in time to see a bundle of blankets tumble to the floor, Dustin smack in the middle of them. Dustin squints back at him before opening the window.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, what the fuck?”

“Your language is shocking, you know that? Is that Eddie? I need to keep you two apart, seriously.”

“I think my language it perfectly reasonable given it’s a holiday and it’s—“ he glances at his watch, “eight! Jesus—“

“—Christ, yeah, yeah I got it. I need help. Where does Gareth live?”

Dustin frowns at him, bleary eyed.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Uh, how about none of your business?”

“Uh, okay, how about I’m going back to bed now?”

Dustin moves to close the window, Steve reaching to stop him.

“Alright, alright. Jesus,” and for a second Steve thinks he might know where that language is actually coming from. “I’m running an errand for Eddie.”

“What kind of errand?”

This fucking kid.

“The private kind.”

“Why didn’t Eddie give you his address then?”

So, Steve’s tenacious, but maybe he doesn’t always think things through completely.

“Look, I’m trying to do something nice for Eddie, okay? The surprise type of nice, and no offence, but you’re just not that great at keeping your mouth shut.”

Dustin nearly chokes on his indignation. Steve just raises an eyebrow in challenge. The kid hasn’t got a leg to stand on, and he knows it.

“Fine!” Dustin huffs, then wanders into his room to find a pen and some paper. He’s back a second later, thrusting the yellow note paper at Steve.

“Thank you. Now was that so hard?”

Dustin flips him the bird in response.

“Okay, go back to bed you little shit. Call you tomorrow.”

“Make sure you do.”

And with that the window slams shut and Steve can’t help the fond smile as the curtains close.

As it turns out, Gareth doesn’t live all that far from the Hendersons. There’s something off about turning up outside someone’s house that early in the morning when you don’t really know them, and he can’t imagine Gareth is going to appreciate a knock on the door from him at anytime of the day honestly, so he sits in his car a few spots further up the street. He should have got a coffee and a donut, go the full Chief Hopper route.

Steve waits patiently for a little action inside the house, trying to gauge if people are up, had their breakfast, that kind of thing, when there’s a rumble from the opposite end of the street. He checks his rear view mirror and watches as a blue AMC Pacer struggles to climb the hill. He knows that car from the the Hawkins High parking lot, though it usually has music blaring from it. This morning it seems to be respectfully peaceful. He doesn’t get a chance to ponder it much further. It parks up outside Gareth’s place and Jeff climbs out, Matt pouring out behind him.

Steve waits patiently for them to go in the house, door opened by a bleary eyed Gareth with a nest for hair and blue check boxers fully on display. It takes twenty minutes for them to leave, this time everyone looking a little more awake. He pulls his keys from the ignition and opens the door.

“Hey.”

The three of them turn to face him all at once, glaring at him once they recognise him.

“Can we help you?” asks Gareth with a sneer.

Steve’s well aware these guys don’t like him, though he has no fucking clue why other than ‘you jock, me nerd’ which is total bullshit. He’s had a lot to work through this last few years, and part of that has been to stop apologising for who he was. Because firstly, he wasn’t that bad. A low key douche, but he wasn’t mean with it (Jonathan Byers being the exception, and he has apologised profusely). So you know, fuck these guys, honestly.

However, he also kind of needs them today.

“Uh, Henderson mentioned you were headed into Indy today? Shopping?”

“What’s it to you?” asks Matt.

“I need a favour. I have a— cousin? My cousin, yeah, so he’s staying with me at the moment and the guy’s had a tough year and I want to like, get him something nice, but I have no idea what.”

Jeff shakes his head. “We’re not personal shoppers, dude, how the fuck—”

“He’s one of you. He’s like a—” Steve gestures broadly at them, “Like, a metalhead, you know. And he plays guitar.”

“Oh my God,” laughs Matt, “There’s a cool Harrington? This is I have to see.”

And he and Jeff yuck it up, but Gareth isn’t. Gareth is looking at him, really looking and Steve thinks this was a fucking mistake. He feels a little naked out on this street, his insides on the outsides for this one person to scrutinise.

“Yeah, okay,” says Gareth, eventually. “So what do you want from us?”

He pulls a crumpled up page from the back pocket of his jeans. “This guitar store is having a sale, one day only. Store opens at ten, but like, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Matt grabs the paper from him. “Holy shit, you want to buy him a guitar? Can I be your cousin?”

“He— uh, lost his. And like, it was a big deal to him, you know? I can’t stretch to much, but I thought, maybe with the sale…” He shrugs.

While Jeff and Matt look at the ad, Gareth doesn’t take his eyes off him.

“Why didn’t you ask Eddie?”

It makes the other two pause and makes a little piece of Steve’s stomach drop.

“I was going to but, uh, he mentioned he was staying home. And you know, you guys know just as much about this shit as he does.”

He’s not above a bit of flattery to get what he wants.

“I need new strings, actually,” says Matt, staring at the crumpled paper.

“Shit, theres like fifty per cent off some of this stuff,” Jeff says, snatching the ad. “Time to get a new pedal.”

Gareth continues to try and bore holes through him with his eyes, so he decides to up the ante, offers to drive so they don’t all have to pile into Matt’s piece of shit Pacer, and he’ll buy them lunch, and sure, he’ll take them wherever they want to go in the city, and he’s starting to regret this, until Gareth says the magic word:

“Sure.”

It’s laced with suspicion and confusion, but fuck it, Steve will take it. He only needs them for a few hours.

The drive is uneventful. Jeff and Matt share college stories, telling Gareth about the parties they’re going to, the clubs they’ve joined, and in Matt’s case the pussy he’s getting. Steve nearly chokes on a Twizzler.

“Dude? ‘Pussy’? Really?”

“What? Since when have you been so puritanical? I can’t help it if the ladies flock to me.”

He’s desperately trying to not upset this particular apple cart, but Jesus they don’t make it easy.

Matt reaches through the back seats, looking to change radio stations, until Gareth slaps his hand and tells him to sit the fuck down.

“What about you, Harrington?” asks Matt.

Steve shoots him a look in the rearview mirror. “What about me?”

“Got any college plans?”

They have to know he doesn’t, and his skin itches with annoyance. He’s trying to be really nice for lot’s of reasons; right now because he needs them, but also their Eddie’s friends, Dustin and Mike and Lucas’s friends as well come to think of it. Jeff and Matt might not be around, but Gareth very much is. They weren’t around much to begin with, and Steve didn’t ask about that, not really his place and he kind of had bigger problems at the time, what with two friends in the hospital, El in hiding from the army and half the town crumbled to ash. But things seem to be better between them all now; Eddie has letters from them in a sweet little box he made on his desk, and a pennant from Loyola on his wall. Gareth comes over a couple of times a week to hang out with him. So it’s all on the up. But they still piss Steve off, and he’s entitled to that.

“Nope, just living the dream at Family Video.”

It’s a conversation killer, and he’s just pissed off enough not to care. Instead he cranks up the radio, Peter Cetera crooning The Glory of Love blasts from the speakers, though not loud enough to cover the groaning and Matt pretending to be sick.

They make it to Indy just before ten A.M. The store is much bigger than he expected. It also has a queue snaking down the block.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Gareth smirks at him. “It’s a black Friday sale, man. Fifty percent off this stuff is no joke. You thought you could just wander in like it’s a fricking Kroger? Jesus.”

“I want my pedal,” says Jeff as he wanders to the back of the queue.

Matt shakes his head. “Well, I’m not waiting in line for that.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to cross the street. “I’m going to Tower. I’ll meet you back at the King-mobile in an hour. Enjoy getting trampled!”

“King-mobile?” Steve mutters under his breath. “Asshole can walk home.”

He spends an awkward thirty minutes in line, listening to Jeff and Gareth arguing about music and games and a load of other shit Steve doesn’t know anything about, before Jeff tries to include him in the conversation, seemingly to Gareth’s annoyance. Eventually they’re in, and goddamn there are a lot of guitars; floor to ceiling, brand after brand, every colour and finish you can imagine. It’s oddly exciting, despite the fact he can’t play and has no idea what any of this stuff is. He gets a flash of the odd price ticket and his heart sinks. He’s not short of money, sure, but some of these would make an impressive hole in his savings account.

Jeff and Gareth desert him almost immediately, off playing with the toys, so Steve wanders through the store on his own, knocking shoulders occasionally with actual musicians trying out guitars. There’s a hum of activity, snippets of solos and songs he mostly doesn’t recognise filling the space around them. He’s out of his depth, but all the assistants are busy, and he hasn’t got a clue what he’s asking for anyway. So he does laps around the store looking at each guitar trying to size it up.

He stops when he gets to a rainbow wall of B.C. Rich guitars. He knows which one is Eddie’s, a red and black Warlock that was lost to the netherworld when Eddie’s trailer fell into the the void. They don’t have the same one, and his heart sinks a little until he spots a glossy black version He reaches out tentatively.

“Not that one.”

Steve spins, and comes face to face with Gareth.

“What?”

Gareth looks conflicted, looks around as if he thinks he’s going to be overheard. The hustle and bustle of shoppers continues, the solos and music continue to cycle from song to song.

“Not the Warlock.”

Steve finds himself mirroring Gareth, eyes fluttering around the store, falling on Jeff as he tries out a pedal.

“I don’t—”

“I don’t know what he went through back in March, but I know it was bad enough for him to sell his guitar. So—”

“Wait,” Steve starts, raising his hand. “He sold it? I thought he lost it in the earthquake?”

Gareth shakes his head. “I was with him, dude. He was so desperate to offload it he let it go for a hundred bucks. So if you’re looking to get him a new one, which I think is a bad idea by the way, then maybe don’t replace the one he just got rid of with the exact same model. I’m guessing there was a reason he didn’t want it anymore.”

“Why are we talking about Eddie? I told you, this is for my—”

“—you’re cousin, right. Well, my advice is don’t buy your cousin a Warlock. He won’t thank you for it.”

And with that he slinks off into the store, joining up with Jeff as he tests out a pedal, leaving Steve standing in front of a wall of guitars with no fucking clue what he’s doing, and feeling horribly seen in a way he doesn’t have the fortitude to unravel in the middle of a guitar store in Indianapolis.

He goes back to the car, radio playing Duran Duran while he can enjoy it before the three ungrateful shit heads pile in and abuse his good will by mocking literally everything about him. Eddie getting rid of the guitar makes no sense to him, but the more he thinks the more it dawns on him that he’s never heard Eddie play. Like, not ever. Even without the BC Rich there are two other guitars in his room, and Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie over the last few months, and he’s never touched them once that he knows of. It doesn’t make any sense.

Except… his left hand shakes. A lot. And he rarely uses a knife, just uses a fork in his right hand, which Steve only notices because he notices everything about Eddie. Or he thought he had. He missed the biggest part of him. Eddie lost his music and Steve didn’t even notice.

Jeff and Gareth are back at the car on time, Matt only twenty minutes late, a record according to Jeff. True to his word Steve takes them to lunch, a diner called Sandy’s they all seem overly excited about. They’re talking among themselves and he finds himself content to listen as they talk about things they got up to with Eddie. Hearing about his escapades from before, back when Eddie was still just the school freak and high school super super senior, makes his chest ache. He wants to know that Eddie, wishes he’d had a chance to meet him and hang out before all the Upside Down crap stole their youth from them. But it hits him all at once that he could have had that, if his head hadn’t been stuck so far up Tommy Hagan’s ass.

He bites into his hot dog and keeps it to himself.

It’s late afternoon when they get back to Hawkins, and he drops everyone back at Gareth’s where they started this monumental waste of a day. Jeff and Matt thank him as they get out of the car, but Gareth hesitates before putting his hand on the door handle.

“Blue,” Gareth says, like he doesn’t want to, like Steve grabbed him by the throat and threatened him for it. “He likes blue. He doesn’t tell anyone, says it’s not metal.”

“Uh, okay…”

“And he gets the chilli dog, with extra onions at Sandy’s. With the cheese fries. And a large peanut butter malt. That’s his order.”

And like, what the fuck? Steve’s head spins with it, with the fact that Gareth knows something, he has seen something in Steve, and just how far does that go? How transparent is he that this kid who he barely knows has managed to just lift the lid on him and take out all his hidden parts?

“People haven’t been good to him. He likes you for some reason, so just, don’t fuck him up. That’s all I’m asking, man.”

And with that he gets out of the car, leaving Steve in a whirlwind of panic, and with problems still unsolved.

He needs to talk to Wayne.

#corrodedcoffinfest: black friday #corrodedcoffinfest #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #matt stranger things

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chasedeys · 3 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/chasedeys/768170997377597440/httpswwwtumblrcomchasedeys768169507136159744

Oh 100 % I agree that they had a talk afterwards. Both of them have emphasized communication throughout the 6 years they have been “together 😭💀,” so no way they didn’t have a heart to heart they never get like that with each other

they couldn't have not have the talk lbr like that fight was kind of crazy had people talking about bengals downfall burrow-chase connection fallout etc they got to have a heart-to-heart 😭 though i guess it wasn't really actually a fight?? ja'marr just got so fucking angry and joe had to cool him down and the way to cool him down quick was to yk shove at him and yell at him right back ig though 100% nobody else but joe would've away with it on that field lol

i've talked about it a bit here in the end!!

also after that infamous kc game shove, i definitely think they had a very tough heart to heart where ja'marr maybe spills his full feelings over the contract and how he hasn’t been getting the ball to actually make big plays and how his worth as a wr1 is being brought to question and joe probably spills on his own feelings on how ja'marr held out so long and had last minute (?) changes of playing that week one ramps up joe's own anxiety and hang ups like i definitely feel like he had some unchecked anxiety over playing with his wrist that first game that ja'marr probably said something incredibly insane yet uplifting about in response. the next game its like they mended some unseen frayed stitch of their connection! first drive banger of a 41 yarder td for jamarr, two tuddys for the game in fact lol!! joe gets him his deep ball, then the insane way joe rushed at him after his 63 yarder in the next game, its like that first touchdown against minnesota again. i just wish the very best for them, to keep making these insane passes and insane runs they’ve been making since lsu.

that's pretty much it lmao but there's some more word vomit below that might a bit much tbh:

okay like i was new at this during the first few weeks okay I've not been here for their lsu to bengals run and my understanding of their burrow-chase throw-catch connection by which i mean like actual football playing qb-wr gameplay was still being learned!! i absolute did not know any rules of the game that first week i watched 😭 didn't even know how you got 7pts out a touchdown etc etc sorry i really was just there for the pretty men who had their faces covered by helmets 90% of the time lmao and from what i saw it was kind of meh you know???

like I've watched their highlights before don't get me wrong i know they got it. the touchdowns??? the way joe throws and ja'marr runs??? crazyyyyyy how the fuck does joe know exactly where ja'marr was going to run, how the fuck did ja'marr know exactly how far joe was going to throw, and like this could absolutely be attributed to the way they plan things with coaches and play calling etc but!! doesn't change the fact that in the end it just takes two people to do that shit and they've understood each other so well to have done it near perfectly!! like it made me understand why there's so much poetry and romance in sports!!! the trust the connection the whatever i can't find words the point is i didn't really like......see that in the first two games??? like there was some kind of disconnect yk and like idk they played like shit 😭 but keep in mind i was completely unknowledgeable of football like at all and i refuse to rewatch those games so maybe i was just stupid and didn't see it lmao

BUT THEN???? the week 3 game?????? ja'marr's first touchdown of the season???????? THAT was the shit i was waiting for like iirc ja'marr and tee were running their way down by the sidelines getting double teamed (?) each idk ja'marr was definitely double teamed had me doubting they'd make it but joe threw an absolutely beautiful ball at him and ja'marr caught that shit over his shoulder!?!?!?!??! brought it right home too!!!!!!! i was so gassedddddd i was exhilarated like completely 100% fell in love with the sport that was amazing that was literally my first live burrow-chase touchdown!!!!!!

(another fucking list sorry) me being the Master Speculator of Shit that i am made my own stupid ass narratives about how:

they were unsure of their game and each other's lmao hear me out. joe's first game back after the devastating wrist injury that was hell to get back into form to, had to deal with all the noise about him never going to be able to throw the way he used to again and knew just how many fucking eyes would be on him that first game back watching his wrist like bloodthirsty hawks. even if i believe that he's the type of person who can completely block out that noise without flinching, some subconscious and fearful part of him had to have been holding him back. the numerous, numerous, painful clips of him twisting his wrists repeatedly, fidgeting harder than he's ever fidgeted before, the water bottle stupidity that he actually got asked about, etc (god i can't imagine being a celebrity having your anxious shit caught on camera and analyzed so loudly over the internet). and then you add in how ja'marr's been in a contract holdout and clearly bothered as all hell about it because it's just not getting done at all even d-1 of their opening week!! insane. there were questions of ja'marr even playing game 1 and joe of course said unflinchingly that ja'marr would be ready week 1 regardless but completely understandable if he's rattled okay!! if ja'marr wasn't really planning on playing (wasn't he listed as questionable due to illness idk i forgot) suddenly switching up however many hours before to actually playing that's gotta fuck up joe's steady structure that he already prepared beforehand of not playing with ja'marr you know??? like basically a) anxiety over his wrist, b) ja'marr's sudden status as active messing up his pregame, and c) everybody and their grandmothers all up in his business for his first game back.

ja'marr's contract situation. people absolutely saying the foulest shit about his decision to hold out, the amount of money he asked, saying to boot him out, calling him a diva /derogatory, comparing him to justin, tee's contract situation, etc. the fo being the one to open convo about his extension only to not be open to his numbers??? sensible numbers if you think abt it btw and now well lmao good luck fo his agent must be smug as all hell. it maybe planted seeds of doubt and insecurity in him on his worth as WR1 you know?? like why are they acting like he isn't worth all that fucking money. incredibly emotional highly intelligent sensitive pisces that he is gets understandably more and more pissed off and defensive about literally everything but he fucking loves this sport and he loves his guys so he decides to play the game 1 anyway and. well. just. sigh.

the game went to shit and ja'marr played idk better than the rest of the receivers but in all honesty everyone was kind of shit?? and like. they lost to the patriots. who literally got beaten belt to ass by the dolphins last week. but anyways game 2 against ja'marr's most Hated capital h and everything fucking chiefs 😭 yeah with the whole contract situation still up in the air there was no way he wasn't going to have some sort of meltdown tbh. hence the fight....where joe got physical with him.....where his actions definitely contributed heavily to their loss which should have been a win.

and so: the talk. like i said they both talked about their anxieties no holds barred literally all the shit i wrote above and apologized to each other the way men usually do idk bro hugged it out maybe. i genuinely think ja'marr went off on joe on not getting the ball more like????? i can't explain it damn it he definitely chewed him out on it and joe was like 'fuck okay'. ja'marr says he never notices shit about how joe throws the ball so maybe he doesn't notice anything about joe's wrist acting up. but maybe he notices that joe's holding back or there's some sort of hang up over the way he plays and needles it out of him point-blank like the person that he is and joe finally talks about it and ja'marr responds by being 100% insane like he usually does and that sort of devotion and sheer stubbornness on one's belief in who you are has to have some kind of impact on joe damn. they probably got some professional therapy too btw at least i hope so :'). but basically ja'marr just wants the ball more and joe gets him the fucking ball.

ja'marr said something along the lines of him finding joy playing again 😔🤚 this was such a comment like god he hasn't been playing happy at all and when he put to rest the contract shit he finally gets to play a sport he loves with joy!!! him being happy is so fucking important to me wow 😭 i think I've said this before in some post idk but he knows he messed up, he knows the contract negotiation fucked up his emotions so bad he brings it on the field so he nips that shit quick and done. no more contract talks until the next offseason. probably made it clear to joe though that he will not leave but fuck if he's listening to any bullshit from the fo when he's got a game to win and a super bowl to get to and idk about you but that probably healed something in joe like there is the guy who gets him. who's as hungry as he is for a win, for a ring, for a championship. who's got his back, who he can trust to be there on the other end of the field to catch his throws.

the next game!!!!!!!!! god i really am not the person to talk about routes or strategy or whatever but i know for damn sure that that was a beautiful throw and that was a beautiful catch and that was a one-of-a-kind connection. like they fixed something that was unknowingly dented in their connection and like they're finally trusting themselves and each other again to make the big plays they've done before the injury and the contract drama you know????? aurrugrgrhrh i can't word anything out i feel like saying more about this but i cant please get me anyway 😭

this entire emotional roller coaster thing was also the main reason they had those kind of helmet bonks on the next 63 yard td and 70 yard td btw. been a long while since they've had those kind of plays, probably had some unnamed unknowing unacknowledged doubts that they would ever have it again, so it was like the first time all over again lol. (was one of the things joe said to him in that little bubble of their celly after the ravens 70 yarder something like 'see i knew we still got it. i knew you still got it.' god i feel insane)

ok bye......

#ask #ururgurhurhh man its good i wasnt really there for tees contract news and like the entire run of jamarrs contract hold out 😭#i would have been insufferable 😭#and like the day of the kc game shove too btw people would've had me blocked 😭😭#this got long....as per usual....i apologize........#joemarr #joemarr meta #joe burrow #ja'marr chase

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she-is-ovarit · 1 year ago

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This is for all the younger gen Z women, particularly those of you within the ages of 17 to roughly 23. This is written from an American perspective, things might be a little different depending on where you're from.

I graduated high school with the unconscious assumption that certain systems will take care of me. The medical system would educate me on proper nutrition and health issues was probably my largest underlying assumption, but really I just had trust in institutions generally.

This isn't true. You are responsible for learning. As an example, I have been vegetarian since age 14. Nobody talked to me about proper nutrition, they just told me I needed to eat more protein.

I lived a decade of my life having shortness of breath, sleeping issues, clumsiness, cold hands and feet, having brain fog, extreme fatigue, heightened anxiety, etc. My period was extremely light and brown, it'd last for about 2 or so days. I'd go and talk about these problems, and telling doctors that I was vegetarian was one of the first things that came out of my mouth just with any visit because I knew at least that piece was important to communicate.

There was really no action taken over the span of about 10 years. I was told the period thing was normal, that changes for women. A sleep specialist let me know that feeling exhausted was also normal. The brain fog was probably due to anxiety. Here, try allergy medication (tbh that did help for other reasons). Then one day I just asked them to check my vitamin and mineral levels. Prior to this I didn't think you can make requests to doctors, I thought you showed up and they performed tests on what they recommended. With some reluctance from my primary care physician and some compromise because she said my insurance wouldn't cover testing things like B12 levels (I later found out from a nurse that, they would, she would have just needed to fill out extra paperwork), she did some tests.

I found out both my iron and D3 levels were low. What else could be?

I later learned pretty much all the vitamins common to be low for vegetarians were low. D3, magnesium, vitamin Bs, iron, and healthy fats. Bought some liquid vitamins (because the body only absorbs 10% of the pill supplements), began eating an avocado a day, my period became normal for the first time in nine years, and I am able to function.

Another example of how human systems won't educate you: I don't have feeling in some of my toes due to wearing incorrect sized footwear for years resulting in permanent nerve damage. I'm size 11.5 in women's, and I was relying on someone to tell me how proper footwear worked, because surely the guy in the minimum wage position working the footwear section would know.

Don't trust human systems to guide you through how certain things work. Seek specific specialists and experts when you can, and inform yourself on your own. Don't blindly trust search engines like Google, it's not like how it used to be when I was growing up and many millennial adults will tell you to "just google things" because we're used to finding actual substantive answers when we do. However, now, usually whoever pays is who makes the first page or two of search engines, it has nothing to do with what information is "most correct". Don't be afraid to request certain tests be done by doctors or certain referrals made to different specialists.

Edit: And also, I've found general practitioners are terrible when you walk in and tell them about several different symptoms at one time. They're more used to treating one symptom at a time, and they treat the symptom not the root cause. If you go in with a runny nose, general practitioners are going to throw medications at you to try and treat the runny nose, not look deeper into what's causing the runny nose. It's equivalent to if you're in a boat and it's sinking, they're bailing out water without actually fixing the hole or trying to figure out where it is, with the exception of emergency situations and even then it depends.

#tangent #health #nutrition #gen z #medical system #healthcare #women's health

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allthingsfern · 6 months ago

Text

About my new camera

Yes, I bought a new camera, but it was not a last minute decision. Well, the camera purchase was pretty much last minute after I saw a video about the camera I chose and did some research on the Web & Youtube.

For about a year I've been wondering if I should sell my Sony a7r3 body and Sony/Zeiss Sonnar T* 55mm f/1.8 lens, which came highly recommended, including by Ken Rockwell, who I also turned to for advice about my new camera. The 55mm f/1.8 lens was highly recommended; it was one of the original set of lenses for the Sony a7 line of mirrorless cameras.

I wondered about getting rid of it because, while I enjoyed using it and got some great photos with it, my 24-105mm f/4 Sony G lens also took great photos, and it covered the 55 mm range. Granted, the 55mm produced super creamy bokeh, but the 24-105 f/4 did too, though maybe not as creamy. Maybe for me, as a vegan, the 24-105mm f/4 bokeh was (is) creamy enough?

Anyway, here is one of my favorites, taken with the 24-105mm f/4 about 6 months after I bought the a7r3. (I've owned an a7r3 for over 6 years now...)

Like butter?

Back to the new camera story. About a year ago, I saw this video about "one camera/one lens."

youtube

I also watched a video where he discussed keeping camera gear down to a useful minimum "5 Reasons to Keep Your Equipment Simple feat. Documentary Photography Daniel Milnor." His insights resonated with me because I am not a gear head. I like having one lens on each camera body and not having to fidget. I like to keep it simple.

Then, about 3 weeks ago, I watched this video.

youtube

Now, I go make photos in SF often. Every once in a while I also go to Oakland, which has, at least in the 30 years I've been in living in California, a super bad reputation. I've never felt unsafe in either city walking around with my a7r3 with the medium sized 24-105mm f/4 lens on it. Granted, I carry it in the original, small, Peak Design sling bag, which I immediately christened my Audrey Hepburn camera bag because it is so elegant, especially with the little brown leather handle on top.

BTW, I also own the Peak Design messenger bag, but I almost always use this one for my camera and use the messenger bag for when I need to carry my laptop. The 5L sling bag had a bonus: Both my a7r3s with their respective lenses attached fit in this one little bag. Tight, but they fit.

Anyway, that video about feeling safe did set me to thinking, since I am getting older and walk around alone, but it also made go back to wondering if I should carry both cameras, which I rarely do anymore.

Then Adrian Vila posted this video.

youtube

And then I found his original video, about 4 years old, about the RX100 vii.

youtube

the idea of carrying a smaller camera with a 24-200 zoom intrigued me, I did some research, including visiting Ken Rockwell's site, where he highly recommended this camera (see the review here).

I was convinced, but I knew that the camera is 5 years old (and Sony has no plans of releasing a newer model), so I looked up prices for used, and if I could find them, new cameras. I eventually just opted to get a new one and am going to sell my a7r3 with the 55mm f/1.8 lens. Interesting fact: The Sony RX100 line (7 models) all have a Zeiss Sonnar T* zoom lens. Mine has a 24-200mm f/2.8-4.5 variable lens, so I am still going to have a Zeiss lens, even after I sell my 55mm Zeiss.

Then there was the coincidence that they actually had an RX100 vii in stock at the Sacramento store. I visited the Mike's Camera Website, choosing specifically the Sacramento location (they have several locations in California and Colorado) and saw they had one for sale, so I drove last there Wednesday to buy the camera.

Funny thing is, I learned they don't usually carry the RX100 vii anymore (it is, after all, discontinued) but they happened to get a delivery of one just that day from their warehouse. (I could have ordered it and it would be delivered to the store or to my apartment.) The sales person (Colton) went to check if it was ordered by someone, but no, so the camera was mine.

I explained to Colton how when I went in to buy my first a7r3 on 12-26-17, they did have it, but I wanted the 24-105mm lens, which was just released (and in popular demand) and was told they only had one, which someone pre-ordered. However, the salesperson (Taek) checked and it turned out that person had not gone in to pick up the lens or contacted them about it, and it was sitting in the store for 6 weeks, so Taek opted to let me have it. As Colton said, I have good camera Karma.

So, yes, I am going to be using a smaller camera with a smaller sensor (1 inch) that has only 20 MP as opposed to my a7r3's 42 MP in a larger full frame sensor. However, while thinking the new camera purchase over, I thought about the awesome photos I got from my Nikon D50 with its dinky 28-80mm f/2.5-5.6 lens, and the RX100 is a huge step up.

Finally, here are 2 photos of my new camera.

OMG, my a7r3 is dusty...

Ok. That's all for now.

The adventure continues...

#Youtube

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vroombeams · 8 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/vroombeams/774131667646529536/18-and-landoscar-for-the-prompts-game-iyw-and-you

Lando once told him, in an uncharacteristic burst of honesty, that for him it feels like something cold and wet inside. … Apart from the one word commands, there's a murmured litany inside the brain while they're under. Constant, consistent, the auditory texture of water running over smooth river stones. A reminder, Lando'd called it once.

rereading this for the umpteenth time and im stuck on these parts where you reference them talking about it and i have so many questions. so sorry if this is too much. can i ask, when did they first talk about it? since it’s a thing mclaren has been doing ‘for the last few years’ i’m assuming that means lando did it with did with his past teammates, so did they talk about it before it happened for the first time? either with oscar asking what it’s like or lando warning him what to expect, or did they wait to talk about it until it had happened? i’m kinda imagining them sitting in a hotel room together waiting for the psychic to come in and take control so they’re chit chatting beforehand but also them being in separate rooms until they’re under control and then being guided into a room with their sponsors waiting to watch? or is it all recorded and sent in some discreet manner for them to watch?? so many thoughts ..

HELLO HELLO first of all this is so far from Too Much never apologize for this. this legitimately gave me the absolute wiggles to receive i am so happy to know if a piece has lingered in someone's brain and ELATED to answer any and all questions 😭

(for those who are not this anon this is in reference to a mind control prompt fill from last week)

this turned into more of an essay than anticipated so under a cut to not clog up the dash <3

so YEAH re: last few years, lando's been doing it pretty much since he started with mclaren. i feel like it's a zak brown brainchild and he became CEO in 2018 but it would've taken a little bit of time to settle in and sort of see what he could get away with and so probably this started in late 2019 or maybe early 2020 depending on how long it took him to set everything up. re: how the sponsors actually consume it, i've been thinking of it as a live-only experience? like the drivers get stuck in a room with a wall of two-way mirrors and they've got a live audience being served hors d'oeuvres and champagne lmao. anything else wouldn't be secure enough i feel?? also i think that the legality of bringing in a psychic to put anyone under mind control is sketchy at best and is probably only workable in certain countries

specifically with oscar, they didn't have a real conversation about it until after the first time. i think lando would actively avoid talking about it as much as possible, especially since after doing it for so long he's got a weird relationship with it? like he doesn't really want to do it but it's part of the job but also he's going to sweep it under the rug as much as humanly possible

i think it does get better with oscar, whether it's because of their closeness in age or the fact that oscar is probably way more willing to be blunt and upfront about it. like i imagine with carlos, lando would've wanted to talk about it, because it was so new? but carlos is more of a rug-sweeper too i think. and then daniel would be making some pretty weird and uncomfortable jokes to cover up exactly how uncomfortable he is himself etc etc. so lando's just learned not to talk about it

all of this to say i don't think lando ever explains it to oscar, or tells him anything about what they're going to do/how they're going to do it, because he didn't have that experience himself? there's a chance that he tried to give daniel a heads up about it and daniel was like. not mean exactly but laughing at him/dismissive/whatever. and lando internalized that

SO it's a relief for him a little bit when oscar just brings it up at some point, probably in the aftermath of the first time they do it? like when they're still 'hungover' from it, oscar just very easily/casually grumbling about how fucking wretched his brain feels afterward, and lando is like oh yeah thank god it's not just me fucking rotting over here! and after that i think they spend more time together before and after, like you said sitting in a hotel room just chit-chatting to try to take the edge off the building tension and anxiety that never really goes away before they go under. like oscar said in the fic you never really get used to it

they never talk about exactly what happens in that room, or how they feel about it. the conversations are largely about the psychic, the mind control, and the way it feels, but they almost never bring their personal feelings into it as far as they involve each other. until maybe one day they do! who's to say!!!

i hope this answers some of your questions i'm so sorry it got so rambly 😭 please feel free to hmu again if there's anything i missed!!! <333 thank you so much for asking!!

#asks #abt.fic

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theunluckiestdevil · 3 days ago

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so. hey. question

hanged man or wheel of fortune (i am going out on a limb and assuming tomas did not let their new friend get made body and mind and soul into the new boatman)

HAHA you'd be right about that last part. Tomas was willing to do anything to keep that from happening.

Wheel of Fortune! Tomas (and I) thought it over for a very long time. I don't think any of the endings are bad- I've heard Evolution be called a tragedy, and I've also called it one, but honestly, all of the endings are pretty good depending on what your angle is. Unfortunately you've activated my trap card so here's A BUNCH OF THOUGHTS YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR YIPPEE

For The Hierophant, he gets to live his life, he gets to have a nice time. He doesn't worry about his fate- hell, he even eats pie! It's a type of peace of mind I can't blame anyone for giving him. Tomas just couldn't choose it because they didn't want to lose their friend to the Boatman if there were other options. And also, there were a lot of other wills at play here, some with more selfish motivations than others. That did NOT rub Tomas the right way. They refuse to sacrifice a young man as a part of some scheme he had no say in.

For The Hanged Man, I'll admit the future of London there is kind of bleak. The flooding, the arms, it's not looking great! But changing oneself into something that can't die is what I feel like the Naturalist was leaning towards himself. It's the culmination of all he's been fighting for the past few years, to not die, to not give into his destiny. It was a very tempting option. But, wouldn't this just be losing yourself in the opposite direction? Sure, he wouldn't be bones on a river, but... he wouldn't be the man we met either, past a certain point. Tomas knows that staying alive is important to the Naturalist, but surely a part of that stems from not wanting to lose himself. As appealing as this future might be, it couldn't be what Tomas chose.

The Wheel of Fortune. The one I chose. The one where he spends his life researching ways and experimenting on himself to stay himself when he inevitably goes on the River for the first and final time. It doesn't meet his goal of not dying- but, as one of the movement texts put it, maybe preserving the flesh isn't what's important. Preserving the self is. And Tomas couldn't help but agree with that. And Tomas is a scientist, a Thanatologist*, this is work and research they will absolutely commit themself to wholeheartedly. Not just because it's the field they've dedicated their life (and death) to, but also because they care so deeply for the Naturalist. They want him- him, in all his mischievous, eel stealing glory, to make it through this. To be on the boat, as himself, and do what he wants. And Tomas will be there to support him through it. And knowing that they get to explore the River together one day? That's something Tomas has only ever dreamed of. They can't wait to do it with the Naturalist at the helm. If they could make this their destiny, instead of other Irem options, they would, in a heartbeat.

‼️THIS PARAGRAPH IS ABOUT THE ES: THE SHALLOWS‼️ Now, Tomas has been the Boatman. They've broken a few of the rules on the river, and gotten punished accordingly. But the important thing is that they know first hand there's nothing stopping you from going where you wish, so long as you're in the boat. And there's still so much to explore. Tomas wants to know everything. Tomas genuinely had a good time during that ES, which I think is also part of why they don't think the Naturalist being on the boat is the worst thing in the world. With the right mindset, this is an opportunity! There's so much to learn!! And another thing- Tomas has the Boatman's hat. Which means, due to its appearance on the Naturalist's head in the WoF ending, Tomas gifts it to him at some point. Which is REALLY CUTE. I'm so soft about them. Tomas would also absolutely offer to cover some of the Naturalist's shifts so he can have a break. Tomas loves this job and they love the Naturalist of COURSE you can take as long as you want off buddy. They trust you.‼️OK SHALLOWS TALK DONE‼️

SO YEAH. Tomas chose the Wheel of Fortune ending. It might not be in the best interest of whatever politics flew over our heads, but they only care about the Naturalist. The research and the exploration that gets born from this is just a nice bonus. They might sometimes wonder if they made the right choice, but they never regret it. How could they, when they're doing science with their dear friend, and will one day explore the rivers of death with him too.

*Thanatology as a field was only named in 1903 in real life which means that in the flondon universe there's a real chance that it's the Naturalist and Tomas who name it since it's 1903 1899 there too. Which is REALLY CUTE. Naming a field of study with the bestie... this also means that the Naturalist might have been the one to give Tomas their alias in universe (if they're even a thing in universe idk). Finally! Tomas can stop being 'the Bandaged Thanatologist' anachronistically! I'm so happy.

#unlucky ask #fallen london #fallen london evolution #evolution spoilers #the shallows #es the shallows #the youthful naturalist #fl: the bandaged thanatologist #SORRY THIS GOT LONG I JUST NEEDED TO GET THOUGHTS OUT #anyways thank you so much for the ask i love to yap about these guys #also the lady who let him rest his head in her lap was there which is a huge bonus #whatever those two have going on im obsessed. yall are so cute

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cyanide-latte · 2 months ago

Text

TWST ficlet: Happy Birthday, Idia!

Words: 1,990

Warnings: None (though this does end sort of abruptly, oops. Also if you squint, you can technically see those hints of Phoenix Fire shipping.)

Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud, Wei Renqiao (my OC), Oisín Anbás cameo (@tixdixl 's OC)

Ignihyde dormitory wasn't known for having the most lively students among its number. They were notoriously reclusive, almost to the same degree that they were known for their diligence. But, with the event of their Housewarden's birthday upon them, a low buzz of chatter accompanied the normal hum of technology typically heard in those halls. The subject of the conversation remained tightly shut up in his room and as such all the dormmates felt the need to—all things considered—exchange their thoughts on the matter, if only in brief.

And only briefly; many of them had long since learned to avoid the decided wrath of Ortho Shroud and keep any disparaging opinions about Housewarden Idia quiet around him.

The younger Shroud in question was preoccupied, as it was, alongside his dormmate Oisín Anbás as the two of them assisted a third dormmate who was, yet again, biting off perhaps a bit more than he could chew.

The finishing touches really didn't need to take this long. Really, he could have counted his work done a week before. But Wei Renqiao was nothing if not thorough, and he took immense pride in his work. He was finishing up the final adjustment—it had to be just right—and barely even glancing up as he gently instructed his two friends where needed to tend to the food being cooked. It had taken so many months of hard work, but…but…

There. Finished at last.

"Wow…You look pretty proud of yourself, Ren!"

He shouldn't have startled at the comment but he did, and had to take a second to re-center before he offered a smile at Ortho.

"I suppose I feel entitled to, in this case," he answered, lifting an eyebrow. "With how much time I've put into making this."

"Can we see first?!"

[I'm sure you'll see it before long, Ortho,] an electronic text-to-speech voice interjected as Oisín spoke up. [But I would also like to take a look before it disappears into Idia's room forever.]

Ren didn't miss the accompanying "OwO" face that followed the last remark, and let out a soft chuckle. As if he wouldn't have shown the two of them before handing over his gift. Not when they were the only two who actually knew about it. Without another word, he stood and unfolded his project for them to behold, immensely pleased when he saw their reactions.

"That's amazing! He's gonna love it, Ren, I just know it!"

[He ought to; knowing him, he's going to see it and realize just how much you put into it.]

It was an effort for Ren to keep the smug sense of satisfaction off of his face. Having the reassurance and praise of the two of them only drove it home for him that he'd made the best possible call for a gift.

The only thing left to do was present it to the recipient.

"Thank you both again for the help," he added, turning to nod at the food they were still tending. "This shouldn't take too long, and then we can serve that up."

[Not to worry,] Oisín responded. [We have this covered until you get back.]

"I know you do," Ren said, and this time he didn't keep the smile off his face as he folded the gift back up and began to head down the hall. "Why do you think I asked you two in the first place~?"

Okay yeah, he was definitely letting some of that smugness slip out.

Without another word, he stalked down the halls with his head held high and his gift secure in his arms. Truthfully there was some part of him, deep down, that was anxious over the possibility of his hard work being rejected. Saying he'd spent months on it was no exaggeration; in fact, it was closer to an entire year, given when he'd first been struck with the idea for the gift coupled with the fact he had to learn entirely knew skillsets in order to make it. Still, he'd put everything into it and he knew Idia well enough to be sure he would recognize the effort.

The conversation between dormmates was dying down, and much of it cut off abruptly as he passed. Ren struggled to hold back a sigh of exasperation. Over a year of sharing space with these guys and still they flinched away like they were expecting him to suddenly lunge at them. It wasn't like it was his fault he looked the way he did. Still, maybe for once this wasn't a bad thing, since it meant they'd likely shut up and back off of Idia.

He found himself outside the door in question shortly, and braced himself for…well, sadly, the usual. Given Idia's grumbling for the past month, Ren anticipated he probably wasn't hoping to treat the day too differently from normal. Actually no, scratch that. Good chance he'd act more antisocial than usual because of what day it was. This time Ren did sigh, but raised his hand and knocked on the door all the same.

There was a loud "eep!" from inside, followed by the barest hint of muttering Ren couldn't make out the words to. Yeah…yeah. He'd called it.

"It's just me," he said loudly, letting some light irritation enter his voice. "Can I give you your gift, or am I going to have to ambush you at some other time?"

A long pause followed, and Ren swore he could feel a sense of embarrassed guilt emanating from the other side of the door. Eventually, he heard a soft shuffling sound, and then the door slid open with a whooshing hiss. Amber eyes framed by gently undulating flame-like hair looked up at him apologetically from where Idia cringed and hunched by the door.

"H-hi, Ren…" he whispered. "You didn't- I mean, y-you—"

He gave the elder Shroud brother his most unamused, withering look, and Idia's mouth snapped shut with another squeak of alarm.

"Do us both a favor, and don't be ridiculous," he said, ducking his head a few inches and entering the room. The door whooshed shut behind him and Idia retreated a couple of steps, shuffling his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. "You know I'm not going to try to force expectations on you like someone from other dorms."

He avoided saying Riddle's name specifically, but he was sure they both instantly thought of him, given the brief flash of annoyance that crossed his Housewarden's face. Still, it vanished quickly and Idia simply nodded. He knew full well that Ren was more than willing to work within whatever accommodations he needed or requested, and as such, there wasn't going to be an imposition on his time or comfort, especially not on a day like his birthday.

"So, uh…"

Ren didn't miss the look he gave the bundle in his arms, and already he saw Idia's eyes widen. Willing himself to keep his face neutral, he extended the object towards him and simply said, "Happy birthday."

Idia didn't even show an ounce of hesitation as he took the tapestry and unfurled it, lifting it high so he could see the full design. It was sideways, so he had to adjust for a moment, and that allowed Ren to really take in the growing expression of awe and slack-jawed excitement on that thin, pale face.

"Th-this- this is—!"

"The Sled Over Heels season two frame from the episode where Ai won the unofficial race against her rival Tsubaki from the Shaftlands? Yes."

It wasn't just the frame from the episode that everyone loved and referenced as the "victory" frame; that one simply depicted Ai, battered and bruised but triumphant, punching the air and grinning the grin of someone who never had the intention of losing a confrontation to a rival with warped scruples. Everyone knew that frame, and pretty much everyone referenced it. But that wasn't Idia's favorite frame from that particular episode. No, he loved the specific scene of victory, the gorgeously painted moment where Ai swooped in for a last-second win, face full of determination and wildness as her sled sent up a spray of snow while balanced heavily on only one runner. He'd gushed at length about that scene and the sheer beauty of that painted cel, that moment, the emotion it evoked.

And at the time he'd talked to Ren about it, the other young man had known then that nothing else would do. It was highly unlikely the actual animation cel was floating around out there for purchase (and even if it had been, it was no contest that Idia probably could have more easily bought it for himself than Ren could have bought it for him,) but that was fine. Ren would dedicate himself to recreating it to the best of his ability, and he had.

"This is mixed media."

"Excuse me?"

Idia moved his arms to give the tapestry the gentlest snap for emphasis. "This!" he said. "There are a few different techniques that went into making this. This wasn't just something you took a screenshot of and shipped off to a company that makes print-on-demand merch." He paused, then lowered the tapestry slightly and gave Ren a searching look, a rare moment of direct eye contact. "You sew? Screen-print? Embroider? What all went into this? I didn't know you could do any of that."

Ren tilted his head, folding his arms and arching a brow as he did so. "Interesting assessment of what you see," he remarked. "Right about some things, slightly off the mark on others. And I didn't say anything because everything I did here other than the most basic of sewing skills, I had to learn to do to make it."

Idia frowned, like he was about to ask exactly what he'd gotten wrong in his guess, but instead turned his attention back to the tapestry and continued to look at it. He stayed quiet for a bit, the awe still present in his expression and bearing, even as he studied what he saw like he was trying to mentally pull it apart to examine all the pieces. This time, rather than the smug pride, a warmth settled into Ren, a sort of relieved, quiet joy that his gift was being received even better than he could have hoped for.

"You just…learned different techniques to make a fanmerch tapestry?"

"If it was worth acquiring the skills for, why not? I can always use them again later."

"How long did you work on this?"

"Started maybe a week after you had that long talk where you told me about that particular frame of animation."

Startled, Idia half-jumped and looked up again, eyes going wide.

"Wait, that means you would have had to have been working on this for close to a year!" he blurted out.

"Just about," Ren confirmed, lifting his shoulders in the barest casual shrug.

This got a ducked head as Idia brought the tapestry up to his chest and mumbled a thank-you that, quite frankly, Ren allowed some selective hearing to filter out the self-depracating, you-shouldn't-have-wasted-this-on-me, I'm-undeserving tone and utterances.

"You're welcome," he answered, turning to head back to the door. "By the way, we made ginger garlic noodle soup, if you want any before you get too deep into a raid or quest."

He saw Idia's head jerk back up. "Wait, was that what I was smelling when you stepped in? You made that soup too?"

Ah, yes, there it was. No matter how much he wanted to be left alone, not even Idia could resist the siren call of one of his favorite dishes from Ren's hometown.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Ren answered, grinning in an unspoken challenge as he left the room to head back to the kitchenette, not needing to wait around to hear Idia rushing to put on slippers to follow.

Taglist: @elenauaurs @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @tixdixl @winterweary

@distant-velleity @rainesol @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @twst-migraine

@natsukishinomiyaswife @the-trinket-witch (DM me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist for my TWST OCs stuff)

Dividers used

#TWST fic #Idia Shroud #happy birthday!!#TWST OCs #Wei Renqiao #my OC #Oisín Anbás #my friend's OC #tixdixl #my writing and fics #Cyanide speaks

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rems-writing · 9 months ago

Text

Humble and kindness

Pairing: rookie!San x maestro!reader

Summary: This will take place in an orchestral setting

Warning(s): people being dicks. That's pretty much it

Genre: Fluff with some angst

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Since @sannie4luv is a huge San stan, I'm tagging her in this :3

As San straightened out his pristine suit jacket that was ironed to perfection, he looked himself in the mirror one last time and gave himself a small pep talk.

"You got this, San. You can do it. You've been practicing for months on end for this very moment. You can make it. Fighting!"

After releasing a short breath, he picked up his silver violin case, slung it over his shoulder, and began walking briskly from out of his apartment to the busy streets of Seoul.

---------------------------------------------------

He probably should've brought an umbrella. Good thing he packed an emergency one in his case.

After closing it back up and opening the umbrella, he made his way to the symphony hall again. He only had three more blocks to cover. As he continued to walk briskly yet carefully in the rain, he noticed something odd. A few feet away from him, a young woman was wearing a cloak and was standing under a newspaper stand to try and shield herself from the rain. She had been asking for various strangers to lend their umbrella, only to be met with half assed apologies or straight up rudeness whenever they said no.

His heart broke when most of them were young people with violin cases slung over their shoulders as well. Looks like they cared more about the competition than helping a stranger out.

Due to the fact that he couldn't stand the weary woman suffering for so long, he walked over to her and put on his kindest smile.

"Hello, ma'am. Need to go somewhere?"

The woman heard his voice and let out a soft cry of relief.

"Yes yes! I need to get to the symphony hall. I want to see my child audition! Unfortunately, my car broke down in the middle of horrendous downpour and I didn't bring an umbrella with me so I had no choice but to stand here."

"How long have you been in the rain?"

"Not too long but it feels likes ages! Please, young man. Can you help me?"

A short internal conflict went on inside his mind. His brain told him to just ditch the woman and hope she forgives him while his heart told him to help her out so she wouldn't miss her child's audition. Sighing quietly, he made up his mind.

"Ok. I can take you. I might be late, but I'd rather be late than have someone's kid audition knowing that their number one supporter isn't there for them."

The woman's eyes shone brightly and a grateful smile graced her face. She scuffled under his umbrella and was even more shocked when she felt his jack be draped over her shoulders.

"But what about you?! Your shirt will be soaked and you will get sick!"

"Your wellbeing comes first, ma'am. Besides, I have an emergency shirt in my case that I can change into later."

The woman chuckled and they both walked together to the symphony hall.

"So... I presume you will audition as well?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've always wanted to perform in front of my biggest inspiration for years!"

"Ahh! Let me guess. Is it that one young girl? Y/N?"

San nodded eagerly and the woman chuckled.

"I heard she got her rise to fame fairly quick. She used to be a street performer and now here she is, playing in the KQ Grand Hall in front of thousands of her most beloved fans."

"That is correct! It's always been my dream to make a name for myself, wherever that might be." San chuckled sadly before speaking.

"After tearing a muscle in my calf during a taekwondo competition, I thought my life was over. During physical therapy, my hands started to get antsy so the doctor found something for my hands to do. At first, when I played a single note, it sounded like a dying cat being strangled and it was screeching for help."

The woman giggled to that comparison.

"From there, I learned how to play on my own."

"No teacher to guide you?"

"Most of the teachers thought I was too cocky or arrogant whenever I passed a simple lesson. They quit right after teaching me a few lessons. It kind of saddened me, but that didn't stop me from learning. Now, here I am."

"Do you think you'll pass the audition?"

"I would hope so. If not, I'm just grateful enough to even perform in front of y/n."

"That's very humbling of you, young man. I pass on my good luck to you for your audition."

"Thank you, ma'am."

When they arrived at the doors of the symphony hall, San let the woman go in first. She thanked him and was about to give him his jacket back when he shook his head.

"Keep it. I want you to stay warm and healthy."

The woman smiled.

"Alrighty then. Thank you for walking me to this venue. You truly are a kind man."

San simply smiled before waving goodbye to her and turning to the table that had sign-in sheets. Once he signed in, the employee pointed to a practice room behind San, where other musicians were waiting for their audition. Some were even practicing. San thanked the employees and walked to the practice room before finding a seat and opening his case so he could take out his violin and practice.

---------------------------------------------------

The tension in the symphony hall was thick.

Some musicians only made it through halfway of their audition piece before they were sent out of the audition room. A few of them walked in and then walked out since the maestro and her two colleagues, who were also judges, didn't even want to hear to the piece in the first place. It caused an uproar and loud claims of being unfair, to which the maestro shut it down quickly.

One of the musicians even cried as she ran out of the audition room.

The maestro made someone cry!

San was the last one to audition and some of the musicians that auditioned before him wished him the best of luck while others tried to persuade pressure him into backing out and calling it quits since the maestro has high expectations and San will never be able to surpass them. However, San pushed all of that aside and walked into the audition room with a humble head held up high and a kind heart beating rapidly.

---------------------------------------------------

"Hello. Tell us your name, the piece you'll play, and why you want to be a part of the maestro's symphony."

The colleague named Seonghwa spoke mundanely as the colleague named Hongjoong read over San's portfolio. The maestro sat silently in between Matz with the back of her chair facing San. San gulped nervously and spoke.

"Hello. My name is Choi San. The piece I'll play is actually an original piece I composed. Or rather transcribed I should say."

He quickly passed out three copies of his audition. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and the maestro looked over the piece while San kept talking.

"The title of the piece is called Everything. It's actually written by my little brother. His name is Choi Jongho. He allowed me to transcribe his song and his dream is to have this performed in front of thousands of people during a symphony concert."

Seonghwa hummed quietly in approval while Hongjoong spoke up this time.

"It says on your portfolio that you were once a world-renowned taekwondo champion. During an international competition however, you pulled a calf muscle, which rendered you down. You've been in physical therapy and picked up the violin as a hobby."

"That is correct." San answered politely.

"So answer me this. Why would you, a former athletic champion, want to join something as spectacular as the symphony? You could've done some other sport yet you chose to dabble in the arts."

San sighed.

"I've been asked this question a million times and my answer will always be the same. I want to make a name for myself whether it be here or somewhere else. I also want to make my family proud. They've always been there for me. Growing up in Namhae, we don't get a lot of opportunities since it's such a small town. My parents worked hard to make sure Jongho and I have a bright future. They also taught us how to be humble and kind whenever we receive those opportunities. I may sound like I'm talking out of my ass, but it's the truth."

Hongjoong sat there in a stunned silence while Seonghwa leaned in so the maestro could whisper something in his ear. San caught a glimpse of a gold ring on her index finger and looked down at his own, smiling to himself slightly.

Both of them wore a simple gold band on their index finger.

Once Seonghwa nodded, he sat up straight.

"Do you have a backing track for this? Most of the other musicians did."

"I do not. However, I do have the piano chords written down."

Matz were pleasantly surprised by this and Seonghwa nodded to Hongjoong. The smaller man got up and San gave him the sheet music. Hongjoong took it and sat at the piano before cracking his knuckles.

"Ok. Whenever you're ready. I can sight read."

San started and got into playing position.

---------------------------------------------------

Once the audition was over, San stayed in that position with his bow lifted in the air until Hongjoong ceased playing. Seonghwa nodded and Hongjoong got up to take his place at the judge's table once more. San got into resting position and anticipated the words of the judges.

"Hongjoong and I already have our opinions, but the maestro herself would like to say her part."

"I'm ready for what she has to say. Whatever the verdict may be, I deserve it."

The chair spun around and San's breath got knocked out of his chest. Standing before him was y/n. She was wearing her iconic pinstripe pantsuit but in lieu of the pinstripe blazer

Was a very familiar looking suit jacket.

"Wait a minute... you're the woman that was under the newspaper stand?!"

A light giggle escaped her lips and San's heart rate increased rapidly. As her heels clicked over to where he was standing, she stared up at him with a soft smile.

"Yes I was. I knew people would do anything to make sure they made it to their audition on time, even if it meant disregarding anyone that was in need of help."

She reached out to him and fixed his tie, the gold ring brushing against the gray fabric.

"You risked being late to your audition to help out someone in need. And I admire you for that."

San chuckled softly while Matz awkwardly looked away.

"Do you even have a kid?"

"No. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that you were a good Samaritan. And you are exactly what I need for my symphony."

After fixing his tie, she took his violin and set it on top of the piano before grabbing his hands in hers.

"You passed your audition. Welcome to the symphony, Choi San. Let me repay your kindness by composing a full orchestral version of your brother's song. You can even conduct it. I'll play for you."

San couldn't help the bright smile on his face as he picked y/n up and spun her around. She didn't mind thought. The feeling of being in this kind man's strong arms felt nice. After he set her down, she spoke once more.

"Shall we get to work?"

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #mirohsaurorasociety

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likelyamused · 2 months ago

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My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024 🥳

Thanks to @elderwisp, @lynzishell and @igotsnothing for tagging me in this!

I started on Tumblr in March of this year and then my own first post was on April 23rd. I've learned so much in the last few months, I'm sure this will be interesting. Most of all, I think I'm learning about appreciating the experience rather than focusing on the results. For someone who's struggled with performance anxiety most of my life, this shows how far I've come and I'm really proud of myself.

I tag @weirdosalike, @hashimasims, @onestormeynight. No stress, do it if you want to. I don't think I saw you do one of these yet.

I will be oversharing in this post. Feel free to skip, or not.

April

I started off with Max, a bit of gameplay, a bit of story. I had a vague idea of his story intertwined with Marco's and Celia's from another save I played them in. I was also learning to use poses and Reshade here.

May

In May, I started to get more serious about exploring these characters. I made character sheets where I fleshed them out and a story outline. Making a vision come to life was pretty exciting, but also quite a process. From storytelling, to planning the shots, to photo editing, I'm really happy about this chapter of all three characters coming together (sort of) and how it feels. This is also were I started to get creative with diverting poses from their original purposes. 👇

June

The Halloween party! That awkward moment when they meet for real and don't quite know what to talk about. I had a hard time with the lights on this one. I upped my Reshade game and figured it out. My game kept crashing, though, that was frustrating. Should have learned about decosims sooner, ig 🤦‍♀️

July

Marco's little origin story. I should revisit this at some point. Elena was fun to play with.

August

Their first "date" that was not a date. For those who are all caught up in the story: Max, the answer to all your doubts is right there☝️!

September

The first scene here gave me quite a headache. The light and scenery were beautiful, but there were quite a lot of continuity errors because of the leaves on the ground. I finally found a terrain paint to help with that and used broom poses (for spellcasters) to get the interaction shots. In the end, it looks great! The Bubble Tea shop scene was a dream. I just put everyone in position and moved around the scene. And that look between Max and Celia 💕 I just love the last one: I think it adds to them hiding what they're doing with half the shot in the dark.

October

I really like these dawn shots, I think it adds to the desperation of Max's situation, being homeless in a inhospitable climate. And Marco reuniting with his old friends 😭Jeannette is another one of those touchy feely people. All the intensity of her feelings are here in this touch : "I loved Elena. I'm grieving her loss. I'm happy you're here. I want to be here for you." She'll be back, and I can't wait ❤️

November

This house and that light👌A little glimpse of Max's past. That trailer: Marco being practical, Max getting overwhelmed and emotional (emotions?! I can't have those!), Magoo being the cutest dog ever!!!

December

I bought myself a new computer. In 41 years of life, this is my first ever new computer. I've always been fine with my husbands old gamer computers, but the last one was crashing all the time for minor things. It was getting really old. Since switching over to the new one, everything just flows.

I built this location taking inspiration from a punk concert hall that I used to go out to. I wanted that experience for these little pixels. I remember the walls of the narrow staircase being covered with homemade 90s flyers and posters, the floors being sticky and the unisex bathrooms having no doors and purple lights so no one could shoot up in there... And my mom and dad let me go there every week-end 😶 Those were the 90s.

The kiss. Finally. Through that kiss, I also wanted to show how much Max has been starved of real human affection and connection in his life. It's not just intense because they're horny teenagers.

And the last two are of things to come. The first one is part of the last post of 2024. I just love the light and the creaminess of it. The last one is a WIP. I'm learning pose making. Something I couldn't do with the old computer. And, of course, my first pose includes 2 rigs and an object (that I hid, because it would have been such a spoiler). Baby steps? Don't know what those are!

Enough ramblings! If you stayed with me until the end, thank you so much! I want to thank everyone that has given me support in this journey. I can't express how much this means to me. I wish you all a very merry Christmas! If you don't celebrate, I wish you an awesome day!

#thank you so much to everyone who's followed liked shared commented sent chains of appreciations #love you guys a bunch #i feel like I've come a long way in less than a year #should I go back to bigger text? names in screenies? idk #extras #2024 review

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 months ago

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A Respite

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Forty-Two

A JSE Fanfic

The chapter's on the shorter side this week. For me, at least, haha. It's only about 5000 words. I've been busy doing seasonal Halloween stuff. Honestly there wasn't much to cover in this chapter, anyway. After the revelation about the spirit, the guys regroup, getting more information from the ghost of King Sam. They camp for the night, and Chase tries to visit Jack in his dreams again, while Jackie expresses some worries he's been having. And yeah. It's a fairly simple chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless ^-^

Previous Part | | From the Start | More AU | Read on AO3: CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase sat on the edge of the steep, cliff-like hill, looking down into the blasted heath, staring at the cabin and the strange trees in the center. It was hard to believe what they’d learned in there. He looked down at the mask in his hand, tilting it back and forth, watching the golden glitter sparkle in the light. He’d just finished telling the others everything that the Horned Elder One had conveyed to him. Everything about the true origin of the spirit who’d been possessing the King.

“This is... so hard to believe,” Jackie said, leaning back against a tree, his arms folded. “How could none of us have heard of this before?”

“Well, there’s that magic causing the spirit’s identity to be unspeakable,” Marvin said. He was also sitting on the ground, with Draco in his lap, purring. “That’s the reason.”

“No, I know that,” Jackie said. “I know that. In my thoughts, I know that. But it’s hard to accept. King Sam is a legend. His stories have been repeated for ages, over and over! Everyone knows about King Sam.” He glanced at the ghost standing nearby. “Uh...”

King Sam smiled slightly. {Thank you. It’s very interesting to know that I’m still held in such high regard.}

“Of course you are,” Jackie said, awkwardly reassuring him.

What’s your point, Jackie? Jameson asked. Surely you’re not having such a hard time grasping the concept of this strange magic. Even if we’ve never heard of it before, it seems easy enough to figure out. Nobody could say anything about Sam’s brother before now.

“Well I just... I think there would have been some signs, wouldn’t there?” Jackie asked. “We have tapestries of King Samuel, but none of his brother?”

“Perhaps...” Henrik, pacing back and forth, spoke slowly. “Perhaps there are some signs of him, but not many. After all, Samuel lived long ago. Before the alphabet from the east had fully taken hold. So there would not be many writings about him. And in terms of art, well, again, it was a long time ago. Things do not last that long. All the tapestries and songs we have about King Samuel now are based on legends that were passed down from mouth to mouth, over generations.”

Chase looked over at Sam. “Can you... try to explain?”

Sam hesitated. {I can try, but I cannot promise how clear or easy it will be to understand. The unspeakable still has a hold on me.}

“Why?” Jackie asked. “The rest of us can say Aneirin’s name!”

{One thing at a time, please.} Sam held up a hand. {Let’s start with why none of you knew it. I think Henrik’s explanation is pretty accurate. After all... stories change within just a few weeks. Is it hard to believe that some things could be forgotten over hundreds of years?}

“I can understand that,” Marvin said, nodding. “But I’m curious. What... caused this unspeakable magic? Did Aneirin cast it himself? Did the Elders do it? Did you do it, or did you just try to say your brother’s name one day and found you couldn’t?”

{The Elders did not do it,} Sam confirmed. {And neither did I. Either it was a natural reaction from the world, or it was intentionally done.}

“Why would this Aneirin want to be unspeakable?” Henrik wondered.

Probably because it would be easier to operate in secret, Jameson said. He looked at Sam. Was it... like how Marvin said, then? You just one day were unable to mention him?

Sam nodded slowly. {I once tried to speak to a friend of mine about... about the matter. But my throat closed up. And everyone else was the same. Weavers who tried to make tapestries found their fingers stilling. When we began to try and write things with this new alphabet thing, feeling that records would be important, we could not chisel in the letters that spelled... certain things. We talked around the subject. We all knew what we meant, exchanging specific looks. But over time... it became less important. The world moved on. And I could not tell new people I’d met about certain things. And so, the memory died quickly.}

“That’s... that’s sad,” Chase whispered. “To be forgotten so soon.”

“Hey, this spirit is possessing the King!” Jackie said. “He’s done so many terrible things while possessing him! I’ve seen warriors harass farmsfolk to pay taxes that they can’t afford, encouraged by direct orders from the King. He’s trying to build a navy! Probably to sail off and declare war on other kingdoms. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

Chase’s head snapped up to look at him. “I know! I saw him try to kill Sam! His own flesh and blood. Clearly, a man like that, and a man who went to such lengths to get power, does not deserve sympathy.” He sighed. “Still... it’s a terrible thing. And in the end, it’s hurt us more than helped us, hasn’t it? After all, maybe if we knew about Sam’s traitor brother, something would’ve been different.”

Jameson shrugged. I think we wouldn’t have expected the spirit to be him, anyway. Who would expect that?

Marvin nodded slowly. “While people can become ghosts, possessive spirits are different things. And even if people could become possessive spirits, those types of spirits can’t cast spells like the King could. That lightning that Chase and Jameson said he threw at them. And magic doorways. I think we can confidently conclude that the magic doorway that sent the warriors to Wyvernlair was done by this Aneirin.”

Jackie pointed at him. “Okay, that brings me back to a question I asked earlier. Why can we say Aneirin’s name but King Sam cannot?”

Sam shrugged. {Perhaps the Elders were able to cut through that magic for you. Or perhaps it is weaker now than it used to be when it had a hold on the rest of us. Perhaps it is both, combined.}

Chase stared off into the distance, once again looking at the cabin. “It wouldn’t be the first time magic hasn’t affected me. The King tried to command me once, with enchantment. He wasn’t able to.”

{I know that that, for sure, is because of the Horned Elder One,} Sam said. {They’ve paid close attention to you. Chosen you to help. And as someone chosen by the guardian of wild, uncontrollable places... well, naturally, you can’t be controlled.}

Chase blinked. He looked back down at his mask. It still felt strange that one of the Elders chose him for this. They clearly thought he could do it. But...

Well... he hoped that he wouldn’t let them down.

Some time passed in silence. Then Henrik cleared his throat. “Well. Now that we know all that we came here to know... do we just trek back through the Wyldwood?”

Jackie pursed his lips. “That dullahan might still be in the area. I don’t know if we should leave in this direction. Maybe we cross this heath and get up at the opposite end so we can circle around it by a wide berth.”

“We only have half a day of daylight left,” Chase said. “And we... I-I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t think I’m going to be... fully alert while walking. My mind is definitely going to be stuck on this subject. And if the Wyldwood has proven anything, it’s that you need to be alert.”

Are you saying we camp for the rest of the day? Jameson asked.

“Yes. And leave early in the morning.”

Marvin frowned. “I have no objections to that. Well... I have one objection. Can we not camp in this... clearing? It makes me uneasy.”

“Oh yea, I was thinking we’d stay on the edge like we are now,” Chase said. “I don’t want to go back down there, either.”

“Let’s circle around it, then.” Jackie pushed away from the tree. “King Samuel, will you be... coming with us?”

{I can walk to your new camp with you, if that’s what you mean,} Sam said. {But if you’re asking me to follow you on your journey, I cannot.}

“Are you bound to this location?” Marvin asks.

{In a way—}

“Can we walk and talk?” Jackie interrupted—then immediately looked like he regretted that. “Uh, my apologies, King.”

Sam laughed. The sound rang in their thoughts like the memory of wind chimes. {Don’t be so formal, Jackie. Just calling me Sam is fine. I’m no longer the King. A dead man can’t rule over anything, regardless of if he possesses the living.}

Chase got to his feet. “You’re right. That’s not his right anymore, no matter what he thinks he deserves.” He sighed. “Alright. Let’s find a place to camp. Continue what you were saying, Sam. Something about being bound here?”

The group started to walk. Sam followed alongside them, his feet not quite touching the ground. {I suppose I am bound to this location, in a way. But not for reasons you think. You see, the longer a ghost exists, the weaker it gets. I am, as you all have notes, a very old ghost of a man who died long ago. I am thus, very weak. It is difficult for me to... be present. To take form and reach out to you all.}

Marvin nodded along. “Let me guess. Something about the Wyldwood makes you stronger?”

{The Wyldlands are places where magic pools. And magic does indeed make ghosts stronger. But even then, I am such an old spirit that I cannot move far beyond the center of the Wyldwood, where the magic is strongest.}

“We are near the center of the Wyldwood...” Henrik breathed. He looked down into the blasted heath. “That is why that dark deed was done here, then. But in turn, it has left a scar near the heart of this place.”

Marvin growled. “This Aneirin is a real bastard.”

{I can agree with that statement,} Sam said.

Even though he is your brother? Jameson asked.

“His brother who tried to kill him,” Chase emphasized.

Sam laughed again. {Honestly, Chase, though that is true, I was once more sad than angry about it. Even when I died. It is only now that I know about... about the terrible deed that was done, that my anger has eclipsed the sadness.}

Jackie sighed. “I guess that makes sense. He was still your family.”

“Family can be bastards,” Marvin muttered. “Even siblings.”

Jackie nodded. And after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and put a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. Marvin did not shake it off.

Henrik coughed. “So... what is it like being a ghost? It must be terribly boring.”

{Boredom is an emotion for the living,} Sam said. {Though I used to get bored very easily, I no longer do. In fact, now that you all have come up with names for some of people’s mental strangeness, I do wonder if my boredom was a symptom of... What do you call it?... Something about distraction.}

“Impulsive distraction?” Jackie asked. “That’s what I have. I can’t imagine not being bored at the first sign of nothing happening.”

“You would be able to cope with the boredom better if you actually took a mind soother,” Henrik muttered.

Sam chuckled. {Yes, that. Though we did not have mind soothers when I was alive. But even knowing a name for it would have reassured me.}

Jameson looked at him curiously. If you’re stuck in the Wyldwood, how do you even know about things like mind soothers?

“Do you know it magically?” Marvin asked.

{Well, I used to be able to move across the whole kingdom as a spirit. No one could ever see or hear me, but I was able to watch and learn a lot.} Sam paused. {The same is true for certain people.}

“Aneirin,” Chase mumbled. “How else would he have known about Jack if he wasn’t watching the royal line in some way?” He shuddered. “A silent presence stalking you down, and your children, and their children, and waiting for one to pounce and... Th-that’s unnerving.”

“Quite unnerving,” Henrik agreed, eyes darting to the side for a moment.

{These are the sort of deeds that turn sadness to anger,} Sam said.

The group didn’t go all the way to the other side of the clearing, but rather stopped about a quarter of the way around. They found a spot where the trees weren’t so thick and decided that this was a good place to set up camp. Draco settled down in a gap between tree roots and closed his eyes, taking a nap as the humans put out their bedrolls. Sam watched, standing on the edge of the clearing.

“Are you going to stand there protecting us?” Chase asked jokingly.

{If that’s what you wish,} Sam said calmly.

“Oh I-I mean you don’t have to—”

{Chase, a ghost might not get bored, but I don’t have much else to do. There is no greater priority to me than your safety, and if me being here would help with that, I’ll stay.}

Chase blinked, then nodded. “Th-thank you.”

“Can a ghost do much to protect people?” Henrik wondered.

“He definitely did something to drive off that dullahan,” Marvin said.

“Yeah that sword may be ghostly but it worked enough for the headless bastard!” Jackie agreed.

You were able to cut down a monster with a ghostly blade? Jameson asked.

Sam shook his head. {The slices I managed to get were not enough to fell it.}

“That is still very interesting,” Henrik said.

“And impressive,” Chase added. “Have you... ever fought one of those before? Or are you just that skilled or lucky?”

{Yes, I fought one in a graveyard once, along with some comrades of mine. Fellow traveling companions, I’d gathered a small party by that time on my journey.}

Marvin’s eyes lit up. As did Jackie’s. “We’ve never heard that story before!” Marvin said.

“And I thought I’d heard just about every story about you!” Jackie fiddled with his cape excitedly. “Can you tell us about that?”

Sam blinked, then smiled. {Of course. And you tell me some of the stories you all have, too. I’m sure there’s a lot I haven’t learned about you and the Masked Phantoms.}

As the rest of the day passed, the group sat in a circle, exchanging stories, until eventually they had to eat, digging into their rations for the first time in a while. The strange magic of the Wyldwood had kept them from getting hungry, but now they were near that circle of dead earth, a dead spot in the magic, so they once again felt the rumblings of hunger. After that, they all agreed it was best to try and rest so they could leave early.

Or... try to rest, at least. Because two people found themselves awake as time went on. Chase laid in his bedroll, staring up at the tree boughs, before eventually rolling over to look at where Sam was standing. One side of the camp was darker, as there weren’t any glowing plants over near the blasted heath. But despite standing in that shadowy part, Sam seemed to be outlined in a faint light. He was staring out towards the clearing, but he seemed to sense Chase looking at him, turning back around to look back at him in turn. {Need something?}

“Huh? N-no, I...” Chase looked over at the others, but didn’t see anyone moving. So he sat up, assuming they were asleep. “I’m thinking about Jack,” he whispered. “I haven’t had one of those magical dreams since entering the Wyldwood, and the last one I had was... I-I’m... I’m scared for him.”

Sam tilted his head, thoughtful. {I... understand your worry. I watched over him a little, while I could. He was... a bright, energetic child, and a good, kind man. He... doesn’t deserve any of this.} He made a sighing motion.

“...He’s your descendant, isn’t he?” Chase asked. “You, uh... He looks a lot like you.”

{I know. And I wonder if that’s another reason he was targeted.} Sam shook his head. {I hope I can help him.}

Chase blinked. He never imagined the first King of Glasúil would look so... vulnerable. So much like... like how Chase himself felt. “Yea... me too,” he said quietly. “Look. Do you, uh... do you have the power to... give me one of those draíslings?”

Sam shook his head {I can speak with you in your mind, but as weak as I am, my enchantment powers can’t do much more than that. But... the bridge is already established. Perhaps if you asked the Horned Elder One for help, they will guide you there tonight.}

“...you mean, pray to them?” Chase blinked. “Huh. How have I not thought of that yet?”

{Sometimes the simplest ideas evade us.} Sam smiled encouragingly. {It’s worth trying, isn’t it?}

“Yea, it is.” Chase nodded. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Sam.” And he laid back down, closing his eyes, silently sending his thoughts into the air. Please, Horned Elder One... he needed to speak to Jack. He needed to check on him. He didn’t care if Aneirin would stab him in the dream again. He just... had to reassure him... that they knew the truth now...

Chase drifted off, but someone else stayed awake, listening to Chase’s breathing slow. Jackie stared out at the surrounding trees. He knew that Sam being here meant that they didn’t have to take shifts to keep guard, but it wouldn’t hurt to look out as well, right? He kept shifting direction slowly, turning back and forth, moving his bedroll ever so slightly occasionally so he could look everywhere. But he couldn’t wake up the others, so he had to be very quiet.

But evidently, he wasn’t quiet enough.

{Is there any particular reason you’re rolling around like a caterpillar?}

Jackie inhaled sharply at the voice in his mind. He rolled over again and found himself staring at a set of ghostly boots. Sam crouched down next to him, waving. “...hello,” Jackie said. “Good evening.”

{You’re really having trouble dropping the formalities, aren’t you?} Sam said.

“Well... you’re the first King!” Jackie sat up, careful to keep his voice down even as he wanted to get loud with excitement. “I grew up hearing stories about you from my mam. I loved hearing about your daring exploits. It... was one of the things that inspired me to be a warrior. To help people and do good, incredible things. Like you did.”

Sam shifted position, sitting instead of crouching. {I came from the same place you did, you know. Not literally. I hear you’re from the west-center farmlands, while I grew up on the island you now call Suilthair. But I mean... I grew up hearing stories and wanting to do incredible things, too. So out of any of us, you and I should be the ones who are least awkward around each other.”

Jackie laughed. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes drifted over to the trees, scanning them instinctively. “But as similar as we are, you are... you are legendary. Strong. A protector of good. A leader who looks after people. Everything...” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “E-everything I... want to be.”

Sam tilted his head. {Do you not think you are a strong, protective leader?}

“No, I know I am,” Jackie said. “You’re just... more of it.”

{Well... believe me, I never fully felt like that,} Sam said gently. {Especially after the events you now know about. Something like that does a lot to shake your confidence in your skills.}

Jackie laughed. “I-I guess it would.” He fell silent, continuing to look at the trees, searching for motion.

{You can sleep, you know.} Sam’s voice sounded like a whisper, like a feather floating into Jackie’s mind. {I can watch over you.}

“...I know,” Jackie said reluctantly. “But... I...” He shook his head. “I-it would be better to have two people on watch, right?”

{Not when one of them is an unsleeping ghost and the other is going to soon be exhausted from lack of sleep and too much activity. It was a busy day for all of you.}

Jackie didn’t say anything. He pulled his knees close to him, taking the bedroll with him.

{...there is something bothering you.} It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Jackie denied. “I just... I want to stay on watch.”

{Why?} Sam asked.

“I... I-I just want to. It would be better. If I could help, I should.”

{Because you are the leader?} Sam asked. {The strong one? The protector of others?}

Jackie’s breath hitched. Tears sprung to his eyes, though he didn’t know why. “I... If I have the ability, I... I should, shouldn’t I?” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t... I don’t want anything to happen to them. Especially since I’m weaponless now. That damned dullahan’s axe broke both my swords. All I can really do for now is look out for threats.”

{You can rest,} Sam said quietly. {And be sure that you’re prepared to fight tomorrow.}

“Fight with what? As I said, I’ve lost my weapons.”

{I can help with that.}

Jackie’s head snapped towards him, confused. “Huh? You’re... you’re a ghost, though.”

Sam smiled. {You can say I have connections. But it’ll probably take a while. The night. So, that means that once you fall asleep, you’ll wake up to something new.}

“Hah. That’s the sort of thing my dad would say to me as a child, when I wanted to stay up before the spring equinox, so I could catch the Growing Elder delivering presents. He always said they wouldn’t leave them if they knew I was awake.”

{It’s good to see that tradition persists.} Sam smiled slightly. But then he looked serious. {Jackie... I said we are alike. And because I said that... I know that it’s very easy to put others over yourself. Not because you think low of yourself, but because that’s what you think you should do. As the strong one, the one who is able to keep them safe, you must keep them safe.}

The tears were in Jackie’s eyes again. He looked away.

{But if you push yourself when there is no danger, you will be unprepared for when there is true risk,} Sam continued. {You cannot stay awake all night every night. Please. Let me help you. Just get some sleep, okay?}

Jackie faced him again. One of the tears slipped out but he still smiled. “I... guess I can’t disobey a request from a legend. That’d feel disrespectful.”

Sam grinned. {Still with those formalities, hm?} He laughed quietly. {Get some rest. I’ll keep watch. But I’ll also make sure your swords are replaced.}

“You can do that without leaving our sides?”

Sam nodded. {Magic is a fun thing, isn’t it?}

“It really is. Even if I don’t fully understand it.” Jackie stretched, then laid down again. He turned his eyes away from the trees and up at the branches stretching overhead. Then he snuggled down into the bedroll and closed his eyes.

Sam sat next to him for a moment more, making sure he fully fell asleep. Once he was sure he drifted off, he stood up and returned to the spot he was standing before, making sure that they were safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase’s praying must have paid off, because as he drifted off, he found himself in the draísling again. The hallway to the throne room, while recognizable, looked much worse for wear. The walls were darkened with dirt, and the stone bricks had cracked with age, mold lining the tapestries. The Horned Elder One wasn’t here, but they also weren’t here last time. But there was someone else here.

That man from last time blocked the way to the throne room. The man with green eyes, wearing dark leather armor over a green and black outfit, who looked a lot like Jack. As Chase stared at him, he felt that invisible force pushing him backwards. “You,” Chase breathed. “You’re him.”

Aneirin narrowed his eyes. “Get out of here. You don’t belong here.”

“And you do?” Chase asked. “This is Jack’s mind! You’re the intruder.”

Without even answering, Aneirin darted forward. Copper flashed through the air, but Chase was expecting it this time. He jumped back to avoid the slash—but then felt the world start to fade away. “No!” He shouted, focusing. Right, if he stepped backwards, he would wake up again. He needed to get past Aneirin.

Aneirin slashed at him, and Chase cried out, blocking the seax with his arm but feeling it slice through his skin. But wait—his skin wasn’t really there, was it? Why would a wound in a dream do much? Actually—why couldn’t he change this hallway? Just using his imagination? He’d been able to break Jack’s chains in the well just by thinking he could.

Another slash, but Chase imagined a shield, and suddenly there was a loud CLANG! as the blade hit a circle of metal on his arm instead of his chest. Aneirin’s eyes widened—was he surprised? Chase took the moment of hesitation to run to the side, right at one of the tapestries. There was a hidden tunnel behind there! He would make there be!

And there was. There was a tunnel, curving around, leading towards the throne room. Chase ran forward, while behind him, he heard Aneirin screech in anger.

He burst out of the tunnel halfway down the throne room. The whole room was slanted, a hill leading up to the dais, stairs after stairs after stairs. Chase ran, pushing himself as fast as he could towards the throne.

“Chase!” Aneirin’s voice screamed. “You’re going to die!”

Chase flinched, but hurried upwards anyway. He could feel wind pushing him backwards, Aneirin trying to expel him from the dream. He felt pain stab into his back, and cried out. Had Aneirin thrown a knife at him?! He started to glance back, but then the wind pushing him back grew stronger. No! He couldn’t stop for a single moment! He got close to the ground, grabbing onto the stairs for support. A knife flew through the air as he bent down, barely missing him. No time to worry about that! Keep going, keep going!

As he got closer to the top of this dais staircase, he noticed something. The throne was not... exposed. Instead, there were iron bars around it. A giant cage. But through the bars, he could see Jack curled up on the throne. “Jack!” He shouted.

Jack raised his head. That silencing mask was still on his face. Above them, his blue eyes went wide, desperate. Wet with tears.

“Jack, we’re coming!” Chase yelled. “We found something! We know something now! W-we can help you!”

Uncurling slightly, Jack started to reach out to him, the chains stopping him right before he was able to put his hands through the bars. Chase tried to reach out as well—

A scream pierced the air. Chase felt a hand on his shoulder: Aneirin. Before Chase could react, Aneirin pulled Chase off the staircase, sending him tumbling down, down, down. And Chase felt every impact, each one coming sooner as he picked up speed.

Until he stopped, falling flat on the ground. His whole body ached, and though Chase tried to remember that none of this was real, it was hard to keep that in mind when the pain felt so intense.

Aneirin appeared before him, glaring down at him. He crouched down by Chase. “This is my mind now,” he growled. “Your Jack will stay buried.”

Then he raised his seax and brought it down on Chase’s neck—

And Chase awoke, gasping in pain.

Morning had dawned on the Wyldwood. Bright sunlight shone through the tree branches. They must have slept a bit later than usual. As Chase looked around, he saw that the others were still sleeping. Sam’s ghost sat on the ground, facing the clearing instead of the group. He glanced back at Chase, concerned. {Are you alright?}

“Y-yea... I just... I...” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “Aneirin was... there. And... very insistent. On me... not being there.”

{...I’m sorry,} Sam said quietly.

“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Chase lied still, staring up at the trees.

Eventually, the others awoke, getting breakfast ready. Chase didn’t say anything about his dream.

Jackie was the first ready to start walking again, pacing anxiously as soon as he was done with breakfast and his bedroll was packed up. The others noticed this quickly. “Are you alright, Jackie?” Henrik asked.

“Yea.” Jackie nodded. “I’m just... ready to go. A bit worried about what we’ll face.”

Sam got to his feet. {Well, I have something for you that will help assuage those worries.} He held out his hands in front of him, palms up. Some silvery light glimmered above them. Curious, Jackie stepped closer. The light grew stronger, brighter. It flashed, and when it faded, two swords were lying across his hands. Jackie gasped. The blades and hilts of the swords were gleaming silver. {These blades should cut down spirits and magical creatures with ease,} Sam said.

“M-magical swords?!” Marvin stammered. “That’s—h-how did you get those?”

Sam smiled slightly. {I have my ways.}

“I... I w-wasn’t expecting... Are you sure, my King?” Jackie asked.

{I’m not a King anymore, remember?} Sam said. {And I’m very sure. These will be very helpful to you. They can also absorb various energies. Magic, but also lightning and fire. Doing this will allow you to use it against others during your next strikes.}

Jackie’s eyes lit up. “That’s... that’s amazing.” He reached out, hands trembling slightly, and took the swords. “They’re... lighter than I expected.” He slid one into the sheathe for his old sword, finding it fit perfectly. Then he gave the other a few experimental swings. “Oh. But there’s power behind this. I can feel it.” He sheathed the other sword and bowed deeply towards Sam. “Thank you, Sam. I-I’m honored. We’ll save the kingdom. I promise.”

Chase recalled his dream, and he nodded as well. “I promise, too.”

We won’t stop until that spirit is taken care of, Jameson said.

“And until Jack is free,” Henrik added.

Marvin simply nodded silently.

{I know you all will,} Sam said. {I believe you can do it. And so do the Elders.} He bowed to them. {I leave it in your hands.}

And with that, Sam faded away, leaving the others to their journey back.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #septic eye sam #c!jack #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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seventh-district · 4 months ago

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Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

#redacted audio #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted playlists #redacted asmr #redactedverse #music stuff #Spotify #Seven's Blorbo Songs #<- starting a dedicated tag for these kinda posts bc i feel like there will be. Many more #gotta go dig up the few i've made in the past and retroactively tag them. they weren't as Involved as this one but i'll still include 'em #good fucking god this post got long. i started it at like 2pm and now it's almost 8. i've been locked in on blorbo analysis for 6 hours #don't ask why it took That long to make this post okay i am. very slow. but i had a good time so it's all good #there's like 10 other things i needed to spend my free time on today but this post Demanded to be made asap so here we are #i've been stewing on this song for several days since i found it and i literally had to make this post to get it out of my system #i was gonna make One Big Post to discuss the entire playlist at once but it's got 80+ songs on it by now...#and i like to Yap if u cannot tell so it literally wouldn't even all Fit in a single post. so i'll probably just do individual songs #or maybe a few per post if they all fit a certain theme and aren't enough to justify their own post #anyways i. am so very very very in love with Sam. if you. cannot tell. from the entirety of this post. and the state of my blog #about halfway thru this post i realized i perhaps should've just written a songfic but those take so much more effort and time #and i'm already editing two that'll come out later this month. with two more in the wings. so i can't afford to start another #(not Redacted fics btw sorry but in spite of the little drabble i did on this post i'm actually scared to write for this fandom)#i don't feel confident enough not to mischaracterize them. plus i'm already juggling more than i can handle anyways #anyways the drabble + this post in general probably isn't very good lmao i Should like. draft it and edit it tomorrow with fresh eyes #but i wanna go ahead and send it out into the world and just let it be. it's not that big of a deal

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the-badger-mole · 5 days ago

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The Lost Girls

A transcription of episode 1009 of the true crime podcast, Mysterious Happenings hosted by Shawna Martin and Kennedy Faulk. Episode originally posted on the Mysterious Happenings website on August 21, 2019. As transcribed by Badger-Mole Transcription, Ltd, ca. 2025

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Hey, everyone! I'm Shawna!

And I'm Kennedy, and you're listening to-

*Mysterious Happenings!*

On today's episode, we're covering one of the scariest stories I've ever heard! Kennedy, do you remember all the way back to the year 2008?

Ouch! way to make me feel old. That's the year I finished grad school.

Do you remember the story that was all over the news about the Duarte family in {static static}, Maine?

Did I mention that was the year I finished grad school?

Oh, well get ready for a wild ride of a story. The Duarte family moved to Maine in the fall of 2000. By all accounts they were a loving family and heavily involved in the Renaissance Fair circuit.

I love the Renn Fair!

Same! I used to go all the time.

Then this case is right up your alley. The Duarte family were mom Eva and dad Justin with their three young daughters, Vivienne born 1999, and twins Taryn and Jude, born in 2001.

And this happened in 2008? Oh! They were babies! I hate it already!

Not a whole lot is known about Eva Duarte. She was born near Cabot Cove, Maine in 1976. She bounced around from foster home to foster home between the ages of 10 and 18, when she began traveling the country doing odd jobs. In 1996, her travels brought her back to Maine for the Pineapple Slice Music festival.

Shut up! Pineapple Slice? I was there! I think I was 15 or 16. I saw Whayle perform three times. There was some wild stuff happening there. This one guy tried to recruit me as a server for some party at one of the private tents. I almost said yes, but I got a seriously weird vibe off of him. He was making a big point about how I wasn't allowed to take anything from the tent or they'd own me for a thousand years.

Ugh! That's so weird!

Yeah, the guy was clearly on something strong, and as much as I loved to party back then, I had my limits, you know?

Look at you! Being all hot and not dying.

They both laugh.

Back to my story. Eva Duarte had gotten a job as a stage tech at the festival. By all accounts, she was a hard worker and her coworkers loved her. But that was the last time anyone saw or heard from her until almost 3 years later in 1999 when she came back to Maine, pregnant and married to Justin Duarte.

Holy crap! I thought you were about to say she got kidnapped. Probably by the same creep who tried to get me to work that private tent party.

Nope, this is still a few years from the actual crime. Anyway, back to Justin. There is a lot more known about Justin than his wife. He was born in 1970 to Ramona and Evelio Duarte in upstate New York. He had a pretty idyllic life, it seems like from my research. His family had a beautiful house with a huge backyard. When he was still a kid, Justin got way into swords. I mean very into swords. When he was in high school, his parents allowed him to build a forge in that beautiful back yard and he started teaching himself how to make swords.

Woah! That is not what I thought you were going to say. I would've been impressed if you told me he started learning how to sword fight, but this little high schooler was making swords in his own back yard? Wild!

Right? When I was in high school, I was a in an out of a police cruiser. The most constructive thing I ever did was spray paint the school.

(Shawna laughs) Rebel!

In my defense, the building was really ugly. I improved it.

(Shawna laughs)

Back to my story. After graduating high school, Justin apprenticed with a master swordsmith.

Seriously? Those are real? How on earth did he find a swordsmith in America? In...what? 1988?

Where there's a will, there's a way. He went to California in the beginning of 1989 to work with a man named Calvin Avery, who specialized in making period accurate weapons for movies. He trained under, and then worked with Avery for three or four years. There's a rumor that he had a thing with a museum curator, and she would let him come to the museum after hours to study real ancient swords. Then in 1993, he moved back to New York, after his dad died of lung cancer.

Oh, no! Poor guy!

That's not the worst of it, unfortunately. His mom died less than a year later of a heart attack. And then...Justin disappears from the face of the earth apparently, because there is no record of him between 1994 and 1999 when he shows up in Maine with Eva, who was pregnant at the time.

That's so weird! So there is just no record of either of them for years? There's no record of him or Eva at all? Even in the 90s, how do you manage to go so far off the grid?

No one knows. But it's weird that they both disappeared the exact same way, years apart, and then suddenly show up together. There's speculation that they got involved in something shady, but there is very little evidence. Until 2008.

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After returning to Maine, and the birth of their first daughter, Vivienne, Justin and Eva got very heavily involved in the Ren Fair world. Justin made a name for himself as an authentic swordsmith and Eva had...just all the jobs. She was a hostess, a barmaid, a stage hand, she even played the queen of the Fair a few times. Here's a picture of her at the 2007 PA Renaissance Fair when she played the Queen of Hearts.

Wow! That's Eva? She was frikin gorgeous! Those curves! That's her body after giving birth to twins?

Wait til you see Justin.

(Shawna gasps)

Seriously, all the hot people pair off and leave the rest of us with scraps.

I know, right? He looks like that ridiculously hot guy from Ugly Betty. What's that actor's name? Adam....Adam something.

Yes! That's exactly who he looks like! Adam Rodriguez.

That entire family was so pretty.

Oh! There are pictures of their girls? I don't know if I'm ready to see that right before I hear about their brutal murders.

Okay, so that's actually where the mystery gets super juicy. No one actually knows what happened to the girls.

Wait, what? What are you talking about?

That's one of the things that makes this such an enduring mystery.

Enduring mystery? Shawna laughs. You're making real good use of that thesaurus I got you for your birthday.

Kennedy laughs Shut up and let me tell the story!

I'll be good!

Alright, so Justin's really making a go of this sword smithing thing. He has a website where he sells to collectors, cosplayers and museums. He even made some pieces for indie films, and right before he died, he was hired by a major film company for a big project. It was some Lord of the Rings style epic, that unfortunately got shelved not long after the murders, but there's no proof it was related....It probably wasn't related, but no one ever made a statement about it one way or another. His work was really good. A few of the pieces are still in circulation. I saw one on an auction site that was up to $20,000 in bids, and the biding was still open for another three days after that.

Do you know how much it sold for?

Um...I think I bookmarked the page. Give me a second. Kennedy gasps. Then Shawna gasps.

$48,000 American dollars?

Holy crap! We definitely picked the wrong business. Do you think it's too late to apprentice as sword makers?

Let's look into it after we wrap today.

For sure! Alright, I only have a little bit more story to tell. Where was I? Justin's sword business. It's actually kind of a shame, he wasn't pulling in the money that he would be now. He was selling swords for a few hundred to a few thousand dollars a piece. He was making a decent living, but not $48,000 American dollars worth on a sword. It makes you wonder what he'd be doing now if he'd lived.

Yeah...

So, one afternoon in summer 2008, something tragic happened. There were no witnesses. This was before ring cameras, too, so there was no one around to see what happened. The closest to an eye witness account was from one of the neighborhood kids who was coming over to invite the Duarte girls over to swim at her place. She said she saw a man with green skin wearing dark clothes putting the sisters on a black horse. Then, according to the girl, who is never named, he just disappeared with all three girls. The bodies of Justin and Eva were discovered not long after that. The girl had run home and told her mother that her friends had been kidnapped. Obviously, no one took her seriously at first. The poor kid must have been seriously traumatized to turn whatever she saw into a monster on a horse. When her mother went to go check on the Duartes, she found the door open and both parents lying in the foyer in a pool of blood. There was an axe lodged into the door frame, and the cops think that Justing was trying to use it to fight of the intruder.

Oh! That's awful!

The weirdness isn't over yet. According to the coroners report, Eva and Justin both died of a single stab wound. As near as anyone can tell, they were stabbed with a sword!

No way! So it could've been a customer of Justin's? Or someone from the Renaissance Fair?

No one knows, but that's the best guess. Maybe someone just snapped one day and decided the medieval thing was real. The scariest part is no one knows what happened to the Duarte girls. There was no signs that any of them had been injured, and the detectives on the scene said it looked like some of their belongings had been taken from their rooms.

Those poor girls! But that means there's a chance they're still alive, right? No one ever found any bodies or any signs that they were killed?

That's right. Every few years, Investigation Discovery runs a special on them, and they've aged up photos of the girls. They would be in their late teens or early twenties now....Alright, Shawna, knowing that, do you want to see the pictures of the sisters?

Shawna takes a deep breath. Alright. I'm ready. Show me.

So, here are their school photos, taken that school year.

Wow...those genes are strong. The twins some how look like both parents. It's like Justin and Eva were put in a blender, and their best features combined to make those two. And Vivian...

That's Vivienne. French pronunciation.

I failed French in high school....Anyway, I can kind of see her mother in her. She's got this really ethereal look, though. And wow...that hair. She didn't get that from either parent.

Yeah, so there's a theory that Vivienne isn't Justin's daughter biologically. That was potentially a lead for a little while, but Justin's name is on the birth certificate, and there's no way to check his DNA against Vivienne's. So, all that's left to find the girls is a bunch of dead ends. The authorities haven't given up yet, though. Like I said, every few years, aged up photos of the girls are broadcast, with the hopes that someone who knows them might see it and get in touch with the FBI. Shawna...are you ready to see what the Duarte sister's look like all grown up?

All grown up? The twins can't be more than 18 or 19. And Viv...Viviahn has to be at most 22.

I mean...it's more grown up than 7 and 9. Do you want to see the pics or not?

Yes please!

Alright...here you go.

Long silence

Wow...that's so eerie. They look gorgeous, but uncanny. Like, duh, I know it's photoshop and it's going to look uncanny, but...Vivienne, especially looks like she doesn't belong in the real world. Are those her actual eyes?

Of course (Kennedy laughs). They don't put contact lenses on police generated photos. Although it did cause quite a stir when the pictures were first posted. For those of you listening to the podcast, we will post all the pictures on our socials, but just so you have some context, all the photos that were released of Vivienne as a child have her in sunglasses. I'm not sure where they found a picture of her without them, but apparently the police must have at least one. There's no way they would've released this without verifying.

Wow...Is there anyone in their family looking for them?

Unfortunately, no. There was an aunt in Puerto Rico who was trying very hard to find them, but she was elderly, and she died a few years after the murders.

That's tragic. I hope the girls are safe wherever they are.

And that's all of the story. As I said, we will be posting all photos mentioned today on our socials. If anyone knows three girls who look like the Duarte girls, reach out to your local FBI office. There is a reward for any information leading to finding the Lost Sisters.

Great job, Kennedy! I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. Well, that's our show today, guys! Thanks to listening.

Until next time, remember to ...

*Stay hot and don't get shot!*

Bye!

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

#tfota #duarte sisters #lost sisters #jude duarte #taryn duarte #vivienne duarte #true crime #this has been floating around in my brain since my post last week #i've written in this format before and it worked out #i hope it's easy enough to follow along #vivienne is the first one to hear this podcast #she is pissed to hear about this great aunt who would've probably taken the twins if she'd known about her #but then she realizes that the twins would've ended up alone again a couple years later anyway

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