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negativeyield · 11 months ago

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if i die before I bake

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Swiss (Ghost Sweden Band), Phantom (Ghost Sweden Band), Dewdrop | Sodo, Rain (Ghost Sweden Band), Mountain (Ghost Sweden Band), Cumulus (Ghost Sweden Band), Cirrus (Ghost Sweden Band) Additional Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, green out, Pack Cuddles, Crack Treated Seriously, well this was meant to be crack but it kind of veered away from that, Guilt, Marijuana, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Swiss is fucking zooted Summary: Phantom bakes some homemade edibles for Swiss, but messes up a vital measurement.

read on AO3

“Hey Mountain,” Phantom said, appearing at his bedroom door. “You went on that weed run yesterday, right?”

The drummer was lying on his bed, idly scrolling through his phone. He rolled to his side to look at Phantom, nodding his head toward the dresser. “Top drawer. You having a smoke?”

“No, I’m gonna make some brownies,” Phantom grabbed the bag. “I accidentally took the last of Swiss’s edible he got in Amsterdam. Told ‘em I’d go to the dispensary with you... and then forgot... so I'm just gonna make some.”

Mountain chuckled, “Have you ever baked anything in your life?”

“Of course I have.”

Phantom had not. But how hard could it be?

“Okay, well if you want some help, let me know. I'll send you the link to the recipe we usually use.”

“’kay. Thanks Mount,” he said and made his way back to the kitchen.

Phantom had watched Swiss or Mountain make edibles on a few occasions, but he pulled up Mountain's recipe. He quickly realized it was a little more complicated than he thought. There was pre-baking, and making a butter, and making the brownies from scratch? Phantom looked at the box mix he found at the back of the pantry. It would have to do.

Soon, the kitchen was a wreck. Measuring cups and bowls were everywhere as Phantom filled their shared space with aroma of baked cannabis. It brought some of the other ghouls out of their room to investigate his baking endeavor.

“Fucking hell, Phantom, what are you doing in here?” Dew was the first to appear as Phantom took the roasted leaves out of the oven.

“My best,” Phantom wiped away some sweat from his brow, glancing at Dew. “This looks much easier when Swiss does it.”

Dew chuckled, hopping up to sit on the counter and watch.

“That’s because Swiss has seen every episode of Great British Baking Show and thinks that makes him star baker.”

Phantom threw some butter in a saucepan and started to combine the components of the brownie mix.

“I believe it. This shit is harder than I thought.”

Dew chuckled, jumping down from the counter and ruffling Phantom’s hair on his way out the back door. “Just follow the instructions, you’ll be fine.”

Phantom sighed, returning to his project.

Cumulus and Cirrus also came by, taking a few finger fulls of leftover batter after Phantom had his bake in the oven. Mountain came by briefly while he sat in front of the oven watching them rise.

“Looks good, Iron Chef,” he smiled, patting him on the back. “Did you make them with or without walnuts?”

“With.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Be sure to save me one.”

Phantom smiled, feeling a bit better about his baking skills. When the brownies finally came out, they looked just like the ones the others have made. He cleaned up while they cooled, and delivered a generous piece to Swiss’s room for when he returned. Phantom thought about also enjoying one, but a text from Rain about a quick rehearsal tabled that plan. He cut himself a small sliver just to test out the taste, satisfied with the fudgey texture and gooey taste.

“Something is still missing,” Dew tapped his chin. They had spent the last hour and a half rehearsing some new bits for the rituals and testing out a few riffs. One in particular was giving them some trouble. “Maybe we should get Swiss down here. See if he has an idea or if adding a fourth balances it better.”

Rain put down his bass. “Yeah, I’ll go find him.” He left the practice room and headed toward the living quarters. In the meantime, Dew and Phantom continued to run through the bridge of the song.

Suddenly, rapid, running footsteps echoed up the hall. Both of the ghouls turned to find Rain looking pale and panicked.

“Something's wrong with Swiss,” he said, motioning for them to follow. They put their instruments down and ran to Swiss’s room. Phantom could hear the sound of retching from the hallway, which eerily stopped the moment they got into his room.

They found Swiss slumped beside the toilet, eyes unfocused as he barely registered Rain and Dew dropping to his side.

“Swiss,” Dew cupped his cheeks, trying to get the dazed ghoul to focus on him. “Swiss!” The only sound the ghoul made was some weak whimpering. The most he seemed to move was when he’d start to gag and lurch toward the toilet. Rain sat beside him, rubbing his back and looking at the others with concern.

“What do we do?”

“What is even wrong with him? He's sweating like he's back in the pits, but he doesn't feel feverish,” Dew said, hugging his arms across his body. “Food poisoning?”

“I don’t know, Dew, he’s pretty out of it.”

“Is he on something?”

Rain shrugged, “we just got back right before we started rehearsal. He didn’t have anything when he was with me.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Phantom. He looked back at the place he left Swiss’s brownie.

The plate was empty.

“Shit,” Phantom turned back to the others, suddenly starting to panic. “Shit, I made brownies earlier. Swiss had one.”

Dew’s eyes widened “How big?”

Phantom estimated with his fingers. “Not bigger than what Swiss has given me before.”

“Did he eat more than what you brought him or something?”

Rain stayed with Swiss while Dew and Phantom rushed to the kitchen where Mountain was coincidentally opening the pan of brownies.

“Mountain, wait!” Phantom yelled, startling the drummer into dropping the plastic knife on the ground.

“What?”

“Swiss is sick. Maybe because of the brownies,” Dew explained. Phantom grabbed the pan, sighing in relief to find only the piece he cut for Swiss missing.

“He only had what I gave him.”

“Well what was the dosage?”

“Whatever the instructions said, Dew, I don’t know!”

The room started heating up with Dewdrop as the epicenter. “Phantom, you saw Swiss— this is not the fucking time for I don’t know, I need some fucking number—”

“Guys,” Mountain yelled over them, the bag of weed, that now had a sizable dent in it, in hand. His face was especially serious. “Phantom, where is the extra butter?”

He stared at Mountain blankly. “What do you mean?”

“You followed the recipe I told you? Pre-baked the amount you usually see Swiss and me make, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then where’s the leftovers? The recipe is for triple the amount of butter you should have used.”

Phantom suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“Shit,” Mountain cursed as Rain called down the hall for more help. Mountain went running, leaving Phantom feeling numb and a majorly heated Dew.

“I thought you were following the instructions,” Dew said, his eyes starting to flicker red, like embers in a fire trying to kindle.

“I was, but I was looking at the butter recipe Mountain told me to use and also reading the back of the brownie box and— and, I guess… I guess I got confused,” Phantom ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots. Dew huffed, turning to go back to Swiss’s room. When Phantom started to follow, the fire ghoul whirled around, eyes fully glowing now.

“You’ve done enough, Phantom. We’ll take care of him.”

He left Phantom standing awkwardly in the hallway, his guilt feeling like a tight wire wrapped around his neck. He stood there until his anger kicked in. Phantom marched into the kitchen, grabbing the pan of brownies and slamming them into the trash can with such force the metal pan bent at a ninety degree angle.

He was angry at Dew. At the fucking instructions for being confusing. At Mountain for not telling him when he was leaving for the dispensary. Really, he was just furious at himself. How did he possibly think that much weed was supposed to go into one batch of brownies? What kind of idiot didn’t double check the recipe when making an edible?

Phantom banished himself to his room, throwing around a few things before collapsing on his bed in a fit of guilt-soaked tears.

Rain think he preferred it when Swiss was vomiting.

After the last time he hugged the toilet, just as Phantom and Dew went to check the kitchen, Swiss had a moment of improved coherence.

“Rain,” he mustered, spitting into the toilet. It was a relief just to hear him have some sort of orientation to what was happening around him. That relief was quickly thwarted by what followed, “I don’t… feel… good,” he said, his voice slurring and slowing. Rain had to lunge to catch Swiss’s dead weight as he suddenly collapsed.

“Fuck!” he yelled, pressing two fingers to his neck. Ghoul vessels did have heartbeats— usually slower than humans— but present. Even for a ghoul, though, Swiss’s was faint. “Dew! Phantom! I need you!”

To his surprise, Mountain was the first to arrive at his aid, helping Rain pull Swiss out of the bathroom and into the more spacious bedroom.

“He just passed out,” Rain said, obsessively checking the pulse points in Swiss’s neck and wrist.

“He’s greening out bad,” Mountain sighed, looking up at Rain with dismay. “Phantom fucked up the edible ratio. It won’t kill him, but we need to watch him until he comes down.”

Swiss’s eyes finally fluttered open again. Still unfocused, and even more out of it than before. Dew appeared at the door, chest heaving with anger. Phantom was nowhere to be found. Mountain took one look at Dew and shook his head.

“Out.”

That didn’t help Dew’s fury. “Excuse me?”

“You’re hot right now. You know he gets sensitive to emotions when he’s high, and right now the last thing we need is him panicking when he can barely comprehend why he’s panicking. You can come back when you cool off.”

Dew looked like he wanted to bite off Mountain’s head, but he did back out of the room.

“Mounty,” Swiss muttered, briefly focusing on the earth ghoul’s face. His hand limply waved, and Mountain grabbed it from the air and squeezed.

“Hang in there, bud. You’re gonna be okay.”

Swiss felt like he was dying.

Or locked in some shadow dimension. Either was possible.

Maybe this was the purgatory thing he’s heard so much about. A land between heaven and hell. It would explain why he felt like the world was melting between his fingers while also feeling like he was floating. He was burning hot and doused in sweat, but also wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in blankets.

A lot of contradictions. The only thing Swiss was sure about was that his stomach fucking hurt.

His head was in the toilet again. Throat burning. A hand rubbed his back and he tried to focus on that instead of the sour taste in his mouth.

Then darkness.

Maybe he was dying.

Sometimes he’d hear some voices. Muted, warped voices he could hardly identify.

One came through clearly. Swiss couldn’t quite identify what was being said, but he knew it was Mountain.

Mountain sounded upset. Swiss frowned working hard at trying to focus on the slow moving blobs around him so he could find Mountain.

A warm hand took his.

Fingers tinkered with his hair.

Touched his blazing skin.

He hoped he wasn’t sick.

They would also get sick if that was the case.

“You can sleep, Swiss miss.”

“We’ll keep you safe.”

Swiss didn’t want to sleep. He was exhausted to the point he couldn’t move, but sleeping seemed like something he wasn’t supposed to do. Like he’s fully succumb to the darkness.

Like he’d wake up in the pit.

His throat suddenly felt tight. Fingers tingled. He tried to suck in more air, but his lungs were sluggish. Slow as the rest of him. Swiss fought, feeling his body being turned. Being lifted and then put down again—

“I don’t wanna go!” he tried to scream, but only parts of it made it to his mouth.

Pressure on his cheeks. A hand on his chest. Swiss’s vision dotted for a few moments before realizing Rain was nose-to-nose with him, his ocean blue eyes pleading for something Swiss couldn’t hear over the sound of ringing in his ears. He looked at Rain’s lips come together and split in the shape of the word breathe.

I’m trying, he wanted to say, but he had no breath to do it.

Rain pressed on his chest. Tapped a pattern that Swiss took to mean as cues to breathe in and out. He tried— and struggled— to follow them at first, but soon fell into rhythm. He felt his body start to relax. His fingers regained feeling. Swiss felt the air fully inflate his lungs, hold, and exit with a slow whoosh.

Slowly, he faded into sleep.

Swiss woke up feeling like he had been dropped in boiling water. He was drenched, the feeling of his clothes on his skin making him nauseated all over again. Feeling a little more mobile, Swiss grabbed at his shirt, trying to ease it over his head.

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s wrong?” a voice asked. Dew's voice.

“’m fucking hot,” Swiss said, back, trying and failing to make it over his head. Frustration started making him upset, and he took a break from his shirt and clumsily pulled at the drawstring of his sweatpants instead.

“Okay, let me help you,” Dew whispered, swatting Swiss’s hands away. Swiss stood still as Dew dropped his pants and helped pull his shirt off. The cool air on his burning skin was a relief, but Swiss still didn’t feel comfortable. He grabbed his underwear, but Dew caught his wrist.

“Those too?” he asked hesitantly.

Swiss nodded, trying to jerk out of Dew’s grasp, but being unsuccessful. Dew sighed and released him, and Swiss finally felt at ease.

He stood there until his body temperature felt normal again.

Then he realized he was fucking freezing. He slumped back on the bed, grabbing as many blankets at possible while Dew watched him, dumbfounded.

“Cold now, Swissy?”

“Freezing. Cuddle me, Dew?”

The fire ghoul groaned, and something landed on Swiss’s face.

“Okay, but you have to put your drawers back on.”

That seemed like a fair exchange. Swiss slipped on his underwear and opened his arms for Dew to come warm him up. The fire ghoul dropped into Swiss’s arms, muttering something about how he “better not puke on him”.

Swiss’s throat was dry when he woke up again. HIs room was dim. Less chaotic than before. Swiss tried to roll to his back, but found something blocking him.

Or someone.

“Swiss?” a soft voice asked, moving so he could plop onto his back. It was Mountain staring down at him with concerned hazel eyes.

“I’m falling off the bed,” Swiss muttered, weakly trying to shove at the massive drummer. Mountain’s concern shifted to mild amusement, and he gave Swiss some more space.

“Just making sure you don’t aspirate, Swissy.”

Satanas, his head was pounding. Swiss flopped down on Mountain’s chest, finding some comfort in the feeling of his heartbeat under his cheek.

“Is he awake?” Rain asked, walking in with Dew in tow.

“He is,” Swiss answered. “He is also so fucking thirsty.”

“Good,” Rain handed him some brightly colored drink. Swiss stared at is suspiciously until he explained. “Electrolytes.”

“Oh. Thought you were trying to poison me,” Swiss muttered, and slowly sipped at the cool beverage.

“That would be Phantom,” Dew muttered, quickly getting an elbow to the ribs from Rain. Swiss looked at them, confused.

“What about Phantom?” His bandmates looked at him and then one another. Swiss couldn’t tell if it was guilt or pity, but he didn’t like it either way. “Whatever it is, fucking tell me.”

“He’s usually pissy when he’s almost down,” Mountain said as though Swiss wasn’t sitting right fucking there.

“Think he’s good enough to tell him?” Rain asked.

“For fuck’s sake,” Swiss pinched the bridge of his nose. Rain placed a hand on his knee.

“Did you eat the brownie Phantom baked for you?”

Swiss slowly dropped his hand, the realization of his pre-nap snack hitting him the moment Rain said it.

“Yeah… it was good, but I’m guessing maybe a little too much?”

Dew scoffed. “At least triple the dose you usually do.”

That certainly explained why he felt like he was on a different plane of existence earlier.

“Damn. Uh, how bad was I?” They looked at each other again. That, and the fact they looked exhausted pretty much answered his question. He also realized Phantom wasn’t among them. “And where’s Phantom?”

Dew pressed his lips together. “I, uh, told him to stay out of the way.”

From the way Mountain and Rain exchanged a glance, Swiss had a feeling it was a little more than that. He sighed, pushing himself up to try and stand, but a rush to his head made him topple right back down.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dew asked.

“To see Phantom. Make sure he’s not beating himself up over this.”

“You can barely stand still!”

Swiss looked at Dew. “Then go get him!”

Dew looked at Rain, who shook his head. The usually calm water ghoul looked at Dew sternly. “I’m not the one who yelled at him. Go fix it.”

With a groan, Dew departed. Swiss laid back in his bed, focusing on a singular point on the ceiling until the spinning stopped.

“Hey Rain?” he asked after awhile.

“Yeah?”

Swiss ran his hand over his bare chest and thighs. “When did I strip?”

He chuckled. “A few hours ago.”

“Why?”

“Dew said you wanted cuddles.”

Swiss sat with that for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah... that checks out. Can you grab me some clothes, please?”

Phantom wasn’t sure what to do. He snuck down near Swiss’s room a few times to try and gauge what was going on, but couldn’t quite get a complete read. Things seemed to calm down at least. Less sounds of vomiting. Rain, Mountain, and Dew had begun to take shifts of just one or two of them staying with Swiss at a time. Phantom wanted to assume the best, but he still felt his worst.

So he shut himself in his room. Lights off, so his main source of light was the glow of iridescent constellations on his ceiling.

Swiss had helped him put those up. And Phantom had basically poisoned him. What a good packmate he was.

Because he wanted to torture himself, Phantom looked back at the recipe for the butter. Sure enough, it clearly called for almost four times the amount of butter he used— if he had just fucking read it correctly, Swiss wouldn’t be spending the night worrying about choking on his own vomit.

Hot tears ran down Phantom’s face. Though he had formed some great connections with the others, he was still so new. Would they send him away after this? Would any of them trust him again? He ruminated on these increasingly destructive thoughts until there was a soft knock at his door.

“Phantom?” Dew said through the door. “You in there?”

“Yeah,” called, his voice raspy from crying. The door opened slowly, and in came Dew. He was much less angry than usual, but still seemed a little peeved. After taking in the dark room and Phantom curled up on his bed, his face softened.

“Hey…” Dew said, sitting on the edge of Phantom’s bed. To his surprise, the fire ghoul reached out and put a warm hand on Phantom’s calf. “Swiss is okay.”

“He is?”

“A little loopy still and post-high cranky, but yeah. He’s asking for you.”

Phantom bit his lip, curling more into himself. “He’s pissed, isn’t he?”

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Swiss? At you? Not at all.”

“You are.”

Dew sighed, pressing his fingers together in his lap. “I was. But, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was mad and… and scared. Really scared.” Dew looked at him with with this sad expression. “Sorry for taking it out on you.”

Phantom finally sat up, pulling Dew into a hug before he could protest. The lead guitarist hugged him back, pinching his cheek as they pulled apart. “I hope you know you’re banned from baking, though.”

“Fair enough,” Phantom said, smiling for the first time in hours.

They went to Swiss’s room where Rain and Mountain were perched on his bed with them. When Phantom entered, they grew quiet, and started to move out of the way. Swiss opened up his arms.

“C’mere Phantom,” he said with a grin.

All the stress of the last several hours of soaking in self-doubt and guilt came tumbling down at once. Phantom practically tackled Swiss as he dove into his arms, reveling in the joyful laugh the multi-ghoul let out as he squeezed Phantom tightly.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Phantom said into Swiss’s shirt.

“Don’t be, Twinkle Toes, that brownie was fucking fire. Perfect ratio of gooey, but not underbaked. And truly flattered you thought I could handle that much THC.”

“It did seem like a lot…”

“I fuckin’ bet,” Swiss chuckled. “It’s okay, though. I’m good. Sometimes I need a green out every so often. Keeps me humble.”

“Also freaks us the hell out,” Rain said. Swiss pressed his lips together, almost like he felt guilty about being basically incapacitated. He reached out toward the others, and Phantom felt the bed dipped as Rain joined the huddle. Mountain and Dew soon followed, encapsulating the two of them in their body heat and weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, you guys.”

#cw panic attack #cw overdose #new oneshot just dropped!#fic #ghost band #ghost ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #dew ghoul #sodo ghoul #mountain ghoul #green out #recreational marijuana use #weed shenanigans but make it angsty #negativeyield

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tulisydan · 1 year ago

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Käärijä and Bojan meeting timeline (preparties) part. 3

Anyone still here? We have only started!

You can find the part 1 here and part 2 here <3

Jatketaan!

April 8th The second day of the Madrid pre-party

Here is Käärijä’s Instagram stories from the morning after, he is very happy and lively (until someone spat on him, don’t do that). I think yesterday went well?

The Blue(?) carpet

Kiss, Mary, Party:

vimeo

This one. I don’t even know which one I’m more embarrassed for. Käärijä is trying sneakily glance at Bojan and when he notices that Joker Out is moving he slowly turns his head to their direction and locks his eyes to Bojan’s. We don’t even have to talk about Bojan’s reaction. (He btw gives a hug to Käärijä’s friend/translator). Why are both of them so extra already, they JUST MET

vimeo

(Also sidenote, at this point in interviews Käärijä has added a new favorite Eurovision 2023 song to his list and I think you can guess which one right yes yes of course it is Slovenia.)

I don’t know, I’m still not sure if Bojan liked Käärijä that much right after he met him… oh here Bojan doing impression of him the day after he met him. (GO WATCH: Carpe Diem Series / Ch6 – Madrid, it’s so cute)

youtube

And finally this picture, I think it was taken very late in the evening because Bojan is drinking. Look at those smiles!!

This is the end of Madrid preparty and part 3. Next one is Amsterdam (and London).

#käärijä #kaarija #käärija #joker out #käärijän #käärijan #esc #esc 2023 #eurovision 2023 #bojan cvjeticanin #madrid preparty #I have spend too much time for this #Vimeo #Youtube

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artemispt · 7 months ago

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I might sound a bit dramatic but I worry about Lando. Yesterday he posted a MGK song about being lonely, depressed, sad etc. I think Martin saw that and suggested to join him in Amsterdam to cheer him up. It reminds me his new song "Carry You" which I think is about Lando. That's thoughtful and Lando deserves to enjoy himself but I fear he might try to forget his sadness with alcohol and maybe drugs...

I don't really think that's the case. Lando already said that he likes listening to sad songs and that doesn't necessary mean that he's really sad. Regarding him partying, it's just a 24 years old having fun. I honestly love watching him with his friends, living his life and having a good time. I don't believe he had the opportunity to do it when he was a teen (with all the work and tension)*, so good for him that he's enjoying himself now.

#*might be wrong here but usually drivers have a very restricted life (maybe “life” isn't the right word) but I hope you understand what...#... I'm trying to say 😅#and even now because he's a famous person must be difficult to just relax and have fun. all the eyes (and cameras) are on him #inbox

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uhhhhmanda · 1 year ago

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Fireball (my trash project)

@ahedderick and @silvandar I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!! *evil laughter*

Most, but not all, of my in situ photographs.

Since August I have been photographing and mapping the 50ml ("airplane" size) Fireball Whisky bottles I find on my errand runs. It started as a joke and it has become weirdly serious. I suspect I am tracking an alcoholic neighbor. The bottles are found chiefly in Rite Aid parking lots and on the sides of the roads that are the most direct route to our rather out of the way neighborhood. I find them on both sides of the road, so either the subject is throwing them out both windows or is drinking both on the way to and on the way back from wherever they go each day.

I am hoping that as I amass more data I will gain more insights into my subject. It is one person or more? Is it a man or a woman? (The first bottle was found in the ladies room at Haggen.)

Everywhere I go I watch the white line for new bottles and when I spot them I pull over as close as I safely can. I photograph the bottle in situ and then pick it up so that I don't count it twice. (At time of writing I have 61 bottles and yesterday I saw four more I am planning to snatch up today.)

About half my current collection is currently housed in this gallon jar.

So far I have formed one theory, and that is why the Fireball bottles outnumber all other types (Tito's, New Amsterdam, Jack Daniels) that I find 10 to 1: this is the new vanilla. In pioneer times (and probably earlier and later, but the late 1800s and early 1900s, when my area was being settled by whites, is when I have information about this practice) undercover alcoholics drank vanilla extract to get by. I don't know how much alcohol was in vanilla back then but these days a minimum of 35% is required. You got your fix and smelled great, too. Fireball works similarly. It's a low-strength whisky with strong cinnamon flavoring that leaves you smelling like you just snarfed down a box of Hot Tamales and not like you sucked down 3 or 4 tiny bottles of booze on your way home (or to the office).

This is the kind of art I did as a kid, just following a trail of inspiration and free material until it coalesced into something "finished." I am extremely curious to see where this one leads. An awkward confrontation with the litterer? Proper research into the phenomenon? (I have a friend doing grad school for anthropology.) Making a Fireball bottle as big as me in which to store my finds? (I boldly imagine this bottle sitting in the corner of a local gallery with one of those little white cards next to it summarizing my obsession.)

If you want to follow along I have been documenting the process in my Instagram stories! The map is here.

A selection of Instagram stories about the project.

#THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK #I can tell that i have surrounded myself with the right people because my husband finds the whole thing hilarious #and our friends text me anytime they think they saw a bottle #i have gotten so many people to look in ditches and notice how much fucking litter there is #the street sweeper was going over part of my errand route a few days ago and I howled NOOOOO MY DATAAAAAA #fireball project

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endlesstwanted · 6 months ago

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Kinda Cool

Drabble for @queer-it-up-bingo — Names and @fandombingo, The Little Prince edition — I said nothing. You can read it under the cut and on Ao3 here.

I watched their name revelation binge-watching the series yesterday and it reminded me of my favourite character growing up, Kai from Laura Gallego’s Chronicles of the Tower trilogy, so I HAD to write this!

Fandom: New Amsterdam (TV 2018)

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Casey Acosta & Kai Brunstetter

Tags: Missing Scene, Books, Friendship, Canon Trans Character

Summary: How Brunstetter chose his name.

Wordcount: 100

They closed the book, throwing it on top of the pile of fantasy books that two library cards had let Casey and them borrow for a week. “You found something cool?”

Casey had left his last book a while ago. “What about Jordan?”

“Where’s that from?”

“Just came to mind,” he shrugged.

“I’m not gonna name me Jordan,” Brunstetter replied without thinking about it twice.

Rolling his eyes, Casey reached to pick up another book, which he opened and read the first chapter’s title. “Kai … That’s kinda cool.”

Brunstetter’s eyes lit up at the sound. “Hey, I like it!”

Note: Nothing against the name Jordan! That was actually my second choice when I was looking for my name :D

#queeritupbingo #May24names #new amsterdam #casey acosta #TheLittlePrinceBingo

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jordanandegypt · 2 months ago

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Zürich, Switzerland

Tuesday, Sept 10, 2024

Greetings All. We are in Zurich trying to change our body clocks by 6 hours. Easier said than done. We flew yesterday from Detroit to Amsterdam and the idea is to sleep the night away as we transverse the Atlantic - but both Mark and I got maybe 2 - 2.5 hours of sleep during our 7 hour flight. We left Detroit at 6:30 PM and arrived 7 hours later in Amsterdam at 8:30 AM their time. - but at 1:30 AM our time. We had a short layover (1 hr and 25 minutes) but in Amsterdam this is JUST enough time to get to your next flight - so we got to the gate and boarded. The flight from Amsterdam to Zürich is only an hour and while I may have slept on that flight it was not more than 20 minutes.

We got a pretty pricey cab from the airport to our hotel - but we could not face figuring out public transportation as tired as we were. Sadly - our hotel room was not ready. We opted for a leisurely lunch in which Mark had cold spicy melon soup and I have garam marsala butter chicken - both delicious - but really all we wanted was a bed to stretch out on. (Don’t worry I will not tell you everything we eat!!) After lunch we got the news that our room still wasn’t ready and I did something I have NEVER done - feel asleep in a chair in the lobby of the hotel. But by 3:30 we were in our hotel and we opted for naps - until 5:00. Hopefully bedtime will come easily...

Enough about us…. Let’s get to our adventure...

The theme for this trip is “OLD STUFF.” We will start with "real old" and work our way to "OMG WAY WAY OLD." We, in the US, get so excited when we see a structure from the late 1600s or early 1700s - but that is a joke in this part of the world - kinda a “baby building.”

So let’s start with Zürich Switzerland - our current “home."

From what we have seen, Zürich is a beautiful city surrounded by the foothills of the Alps mountains located at the northern end of Lake Zürich and built on Limmat River (pronounced “Limit” that flows from Lake Zürich. This city has a history going back centuries.

The town was founded by the Romans a bit over 2,000 years ago. Recent excavations show evidence of settlement even before that - over 6,400 years ago.

We explored the old city from about 5:30 to 9:00 - or 17:30 to 21:00 - as any citizen of the world would say - with a a few exceptions - like us.

Surprises: There are no “walk/don’t walk” signs - pedestrians just have the right of way - PERIOD!

There is graffiti everywhere - I was shocked!

EVERYONE smokes! Or it seems that way. DISGUSTING!

I went to buy our 24 hour pass for public transportation and was told to just keep in with us. If asked we would have to show it - but there is no check in - check out system. Trust, my friends.

Things we expected: Public transportation options would be numerous and easy to use and very clean.

People would be helpful and kind

Things would be EXPENSIVE.

We took the tram to old town and at one point saw this:

While we were listening to this:

Kind of eye and ear candy.

I think I forgot to say what the Swiss flag looked like - so here you go…

We ate dinner at an outdoor cafe - late - (when in Rome, so they say) and it was outstanding. Mark had cold roast beef with horseradish sauce and I had “Rösti” with smoked salmon, onions, capers and a dill sauce. OMG!!!

Rösti is shredded potatoes fried in butter and made into a mound. You can get lots of different kinds of “Rösti’ and I highly recommend it. Split with someone - it is huge. (It will be breakfast for us tomorrow.)

Tomorrow - we will explore more than the transportation system. I’m going to bed. It is 22:00 here and I'm hoping to wake up for the first - and maybe only - presidential debate - which would be 3:00 AM here. If I do - I'll watch it live. If I don't - I will be more rested when I watch it later Either way - we are in Zürich rooting for Kamala!!

CIAO! (Yes - they say that here too)

#zurich #switzerland

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missmandragore · 3 months ago

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just gave away my last friendship bracelet to a phannie i met on the coach, going back home with so many new ones (and with stickers !!! thanks to @lavender-phannie), i'm just so happy and grateful for the people i've met since yesterday <33 phannies are wonderful !!

(also i convinced an irl friend that has stopped watching them to go to amsterdam with me, just based on the fact that there's a puppet part -she's a fellow puppeteer-, i'm so happy !!! considering getting gold or silver now....)

#tit antwerp #personal

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javelinbk · 2 years ago

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The Beatles in Australia/New Zealand: part 6 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7, part 8, part 9)

John and Paul talk to Bob about Adelaide fans in bins, Mad Mal and there's nothing wrong with our Jim

Bob: Would you say... Paul: Well, I'm in the Beatles room now and, I was just out on the balcony before, and there were three or four people outside there. None of them waving. Bob: How many would you say were there, John? John: About four million, I reckon Bob: Actually, I'd say between five and ten million, I wouldn't like to count them, and hundreds of them in a... been there all day, does this happen... Paul: In a bin?! John: In a bin all day! Paul: Hundreds of them, in a bin all day John: It's the record, must be the record Paul: You see? They must have gone in a bin all day... John: Yes, I sort of woke up at 7 o'clock and thought 'oh, it must be late', and I looked at my watch and thought 'oh no, I've got it wrong,' you know... so I popped off to sleep again, sorry folks Bob: Actually there would have been 200 people there I think at 7 or 8 o'clock this morning, and I wanted to know if this sort of thing's been happening elsewhere in the world... I've seen it in Amsterdam, but what about, you know New York... is this bigger than New York? John: Yeah... oh, it's bigger than New York, but they were outside the hotel... some, a lot of them got in in New York, you know, finding them in strange bathrooms and things like that Paul: The New York hotel was a bit higher though, you know, it was a great big skyscraper, this is... Bob: This is the lowest building we've been in - two storeys! Paul: Yes! They're just here Bob: It's been a fine day in Australia, and you haven't been out to, been able to get out... there were talks that you were going to BBQs, to see an Australian Rules football match etc, but you're still in the hotel John: Well, we never watch football matches anyway, but we like to go out, but it's a bit difficult, isn't it? Bob: Yes, I believe tonight you're going to watch yourselves on television, and then you're going to listen to... your show will be broadcast tonight, you're aware of that? John: Yes, oh we know that, we saw you last night recording it Bob: Err, what did you think of the reaction in the crowd here in Adelaide? John: Great, you know... that's all you can say, people give a... marvellous, it was, you know. It was wild, man! Wild, baby! Paul: Wiiild babe! Woo! Bob: Keep going... Paul: It's Mad Mal - he's back again Bob: Playing mad monkey business Paul: Yeah... John: Cut that out, Mal! Paul: Yeah, cut that out, Mal - we've had enough of that John: Listen, can we get this telegram in? Bob: Ah, yes John: There's a telegram here that says 'Did you see 'Welcome Beatles' nearing landing? Reply: Julie Hodgkinson, Therbarton... Thebarton... Thebarton Girls Technical High School'. Well, we did see it, so we want to thank you all, we saw it out of the plane just as we were coming in, in the schoolyard, and we saw you all jumping up and down, and we were waving, but you couldn't see us. So thanks very much, folks. Paul: Do you know what it was, Bob? These girls in the school got a big piece, I don't know, of material or something, and it had 'Welcome' and 'Beatles' written on two big pieces. They'd laid it out in the schoolyard, because they couldn't get to see us. You know, just in case anyone's wondering what it was, so thank you girls, thank you. Bob: I see in this morning's paper that some 200 schoolgirls staged a sit-down strike at lunchtime yesterday, because they were not allowed to listen to the Beatles broadcast of their arrival on their transistor radios - did you hear about that? Paul: No... John: It's a bit mean Paul: That's tight, in'it? John: I read also that we were only 220 yards away, and they weren't allowed out, but... some people are like that. Never mind. Bob: That's a kind word from John. Now, I want to go over and talk to Jimmie, because Jimmie I've heard... Jimmie: (screams) (laughter) Paul: There's nothing wrong with our Jim

Bob Rogers interviews John Lennon and Paul McCartney in Adelaide, 12th June 1964

#in a bin!#poor bob #having to put up with these two #great anecdote about waking up there john #sorry for cutting you off there jimmie but as you can probably guess that was the most interesting part of his interview #beatles in australia/nz #bob rogers #interviews: john #interviews: paul #john and paul #john lennon #paul mcartney #jimmie nicol #mal evans #audio and transcripts

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rainyfestivalsweets · 1 year ago

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9/22/23

I actually made it to 70 min/ 3 miles yesterday.

And here are my meals from yesterday.

BRUNCH: Wrap & soup. Soup is amazing, I am still sick and It is comforting, warm and yummy.

Walked on treadmill after work while finishing Supernatural, which was hard. I get stuck on shows at certain areas and can't move past them. I love this show and I struggled to end it. It felt like I would be ending them, you know.

And I loved the ending. I cried. 😭 so many feels. The ending they deserve, indeed.

After that, fish tacos with mom, watching New Amsterdam.

And Gluccie pudding for dessert. Tried for a rocky road flavor. It was not sweet but that was ok.

A good day. Still a bit sick but I am trying to not let it settle in my lungs.

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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On April 14, Eva Vlaardingerbroek told Tucker Carlson’s prime-time show that the Dutch government was opening “insect factories” to force people to eat bugs as “a compliance test” to see how pliable they’d be to state control. “Our politicians know that when they control the food, they control the people,” she said. Vlaardingerbroek, a 26-year-old political commentator from Amsterdam, was an occasional guest on Fox’s Tucker Carlson Tonight, railing against globalism and “elites” and alleging that European governments are using the threat of climate change (which she calls a “so-called” crisis) to “rule by fear.”

Vlaardingerbroek isn’t anything like a mainstream figure in the Netherlands, but the fictional version of her country she draws is useful for Carlson. Her Netherlands—“the pilot country for an organization like the World Economic Forum” and “the tester kid of the 2030 Agenda”—supports his narrative that a liberal takeover of the US would lead to climate lockdowns and compulsory bug-eating. But by elevating fringe characters and encouraging them to repeat or reference unfounded conspiracy theories, Carlson—who was suddenly dumped by Fox News yesterday—has helped bring often dangerous misinformation into the mainstream around the world.

Tucker Carlson isn’t just an American problem. He’s a dark spot tracking across the global internet. His evening slot was Fox’s most watched show, pulling in 3.5 million viewers a night. But clips of his show posted on social media have had a far greater reach, appearing across antivax groups and globalist conspiracy theory groups like QAnon. He has had a particular hold on international far-right movements, which have latched onto Carlson’s amplification of the white supremacist “great replacement” theory—the idea that white people are being deliberately and systematically replaced by non-white people. The narratives he’s pushed have been picked up and amplified by Russian disinformation campaigns across Europe and the US and used as propaganda tools by authoritarians.

“Fox News launders these extreme ideas and brings them into mainstream discussions,” says Bharath Ganesh, who studies online disinformation and hate speech at the university of Groningen in the Netherlands. Far-right groups talk about the great replacement theory in their own circles, he says. “Then Tucker Carlson picks it up, and then it gets pushed out.”

Carlson’s exit came days after Fox News agreed to pay $787 million to settle a defamation suit by Dominion Voting Machines, a polling technology company. Dominion had accused Fox of spreading the lie that its machines had been used to skew the 2020 presidential election results. It’s unclear whether the two events are linked. But Carlson did repeatedly give a platform to proponents of the “big lie” that the election was stolen from then-incumbent Donald Trump. And in the wake of the January 6 insurrection, in which thousands of Trump supporters descended on the Capitol, Carlson defended the rioters, saying the footage showed “peaceful chaos,” after selectively editing down Capitol surveillance footage provided by House Speaker Kevin McCarthy. Seven people died as a result of the violence, and nearly 140 police officers were injured.

On his show, which had aired since 2017, Carlson spun a story of a US that is relentlessly under attack from the forces of liberalism and “wokeism,” one where immigration, affirmative action, and attempts to confront the country’s history of slavery are a direct attack on white America.

In many ways, Carlson treated his program as a “mirror” for far-right communities, says Jared Holt, senior researcher on hate and extremism at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, a think tank. Holt believes that Carlson’s team was highly attuned to far-right subcultures online, and that the topics Carlson addressed in his show were heavily informed by them. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen conversations happening among reactionaries on Twitter, or among faceless trolls on 4chan, only to see it pop up on Tucker Carlson’s show a day or two after,” he says. In 2020, one of the writers on Carlson’s show was fired for posting racist, sexist, and homophobic content on the 4chan-like message board AutoAdmit.

The ethno-nationalism of Carlson’s content resonates internationally because the online far-right is global, with communities in Europe, Latin America, and Australia overlapping, sharing spaces and stories. Groups in one country will often cherry-pick news stories in another to reinforce broader points. Overplaying the social impact of the influx of Syrian refugees into Europe in 2016, for example, helped build the case for the great replacement theory and support anti-immigration groups in the US and Australia. Such conspiracies can echo back and forth between countries, gathering momentum as they do so.

Pushing the idea that London—whose popular, left-wing, Muslim mayor is a target of hate on Fox—is in violent chaos and terminal decline helps demonstrate the supposed dangers of liberal rule. But the lie then enters a feedback loop, with UK far-right groups picking up Fox’s coverage and using it to validate their own prejudices.

“Anywhere you see this international far-right movement, you see what we call appropriation,” says Julian Droogan, associate professor of terrorism studies at Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia. This was most evident during the Covid pandemic, when far-right conspiracy theory groups used the real sense of crisis to drive their own narratives. “It became all about white genocide and a plan to kind of install a liberal world government that was going to undermine white people and so on,” Droogan says.

There is still a significant overlap between white supremacist communities and antivax groups online. Fox and Carlson have a prominent place in Covid disinformation circles too. Screenshots of Carlson appear alongside coronavirus misinformation circulated in the Spanish-language Telegram group Verdades Ofenden (Offensive Truths) with more than 15,000 subscribers. Posts from this channel are regularly circulated in other Spanish-language and Latin America-focused disinformation channels, including those run by a network called Médicos por la Verdad (Doctors for the Truth) . The group was removed from Facebook in 2021 for violating the platform’s Covid misinformation policies. But its several Telegram groups have a combined total of around 98,000 members.

Droogan worked on several studies on the online far-right for the Australian government, following a 2019 terrorist attack on two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, by a white supremacist who had allegedly been radicalized online. He calls Carlson’s reinforcement of the great replacement theory “the most dangerous of his actions.” That theory has been cited as motivation by several white supremacist terrorists, including the perpetrator of the Christchurch shootings.

There is, Droogan says, an implicit violence in the theory, particularly when it’s filtered through a US perspective. American mainstream media, and Fox in particular, gives platforms to people who use conspiracist terminology—including references to “elites” and “globalists” and nods to the “great reset,” like those made by Vlaardingerbroek—in a way that rarely happens on broadcast television in Europe or Australia.

“Terms like ‘race war,’ concepts like accelerationism—to go out there and create societal crises or to exaggerate them to intensify them to create some kind of culminating, purifying violence against all these threats to white identity—these really come out of the American psyche and popular culture,” Droogan says.

It’s impossible to draw a direct line between content on Tucker Carlson Tonight and political events inside or outside the US. But his place within the information ecosystem means he’s been, at the very least, a passive participant in some startling coincidences.

In June 2022, Carlson interviewed Jair Bolsonaro, then the right-wing president of Brazil, who spent the months running up to the country’s elections in October trying to sow doubt about the validity of the vote.

“During the interview, [Carlson] was speaking the same language as the far-right in Brazil,” says Bruna Santos, a researcher and activist with the Coalizão Direitos na Rede in Brazil. Santos says Carlson’s focus on anti-communism, skepticism about the Covid pandemic, and concern around “anti-white racism” resonated deeply with Brazil’s far-right. “The external approval coming from the US,” says Santos, reinforces and validates the views of the far-right in the country.

Eduardo Bolsonaro, Jair Bolsonaro’s son, often featured clips from Carlson’s show on his popular YouTube channel, where he has over 1 million subscribers, with translations and subtitles in Portuguese. These clips, as well as others from Carlson’s show, would then circulate amongst the country’s far-right groups, appearing in Telegram channels and WhatsApp groups.

In the lead-up to the Brazilian elections, says Santos, short clips from Carlson’s show were being shared in these groups. “A lot of Carlson’s criticisms of [US President Joe] Biden, or what Biden represents, would be redirected into something that could help Bolsonaro,” says Santos. “And a lot of this comes from YouTube and social media networks, and that’s generally where the conversation starts.”

Then, on January 8, 2023, Bolsonaro supporters tried to storm the presidential palace in Brasilia, after the right-wing populist lost an election runoff to his leftwing opponent, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva.

Bolsonaro isn’t the only authoritarian that Carlson has boosted. He’s been a vocal advocate for Viktor Orban, Hungary’s president, who has railed against LGBTQ rights and migration, and who routinely accuses the American financier and bête noire of the far right, George Soros, of interfering in the country’s politics.

“[Carlson] is a celebrated figure in authoritarian countries he championed on his show,” says Matt Gertz, senior researcher at Media Matters for America, a media watchdog group. “He received a glowing reception from Orban, and his Ukraine coverage was touted and promoted by Russian propagandists.”

Carlson has echoed Russian talking points on Ukraine and criticized the US government for supporting the government in Kyiv. Several researchers told WIRED that Fox, and in particular Carlson, have been useful tools for Russia, amplifying narratives about the dangers of liberalism and the impending collapse of Western civilization. When news of his firing broke, Kremlin propagandist Vladimir Solovyov offered Carlson a job.

Yesterday, Vlaardingerbroek posted a picture on Twitter of herself with an arm around Carlson. “Tucker is the best of the best in the industry. He tells the truth like no one else does, in a way no one else can. I stand with him 100%,” she wrote, before retweeting the right-wing conspiracy theorist Mike Cernovich, who claimed that Carlson’s firing meant that “the evil ones will try to win and remove him from history, and commence another Armenian-style genocide against all of us.”

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forabeatofadrum · 2 years ago

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Hello and it is the last Sunday of February. Wild. Thanks @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @thnxforknowingme and @cerriddwenluna for the tags. I was actually going to do one of thoe “nothing to share ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” ones, since I have nothing to share apart from my thesis (lol). I mean, I handed in a draft Friday but yesterday I was too busy going to Amsterdam, seeing Dan Howell and meeting @justgleekout!

But today I did the Fic Line guessing game and I lost three times, which means three new WIPs! Have 2 sentences of each, so that there are 6 sentences.

For @1908jmd, a Klaine in the Netherlands fic. Kedeng, kedeng, choo choo, I guess. Look, I just watched Abigail Thorn’s amazing video on the NHS and trans healthcare and she had a lot of very poignant things to say about systematic inequality BUT it was also a weird way to learn that other countries do not have double decker trains, so it’s going to be Klaine travelling through the country by train.

“Okay, so we need these blue cards to check in, right?” Kurt asks while inspecting the so-called OV chipkaart.

“Yes, and this online guide also says we need to make sure we check in with the right train provider or whatever it’s called,” Blaine reads from his phone.

For @cerriddwenluna, I picked the diner prompt, where Blaine always sits in Kurt’s section of the diner, but one day he looks very upset and Kurt gives him free dessert.

“Eyebrows looks sad.”

“Do not call him Eyebrows, Santana!” Kurt hisses, but his friend is right, because the attractive guy with the triangle shaped eyebrows looks like he’s been crying.

And for @quizasvivamos... Klaine and Broadway. Not gonna lie, Beth, I am not sure what to do for this one yet. Might bring back The Street, because I am me, but yeah I did rewatch Bernadette Banner’s video on how Broadway costumes are made.

“Are you... sure?”

“Yes, Kurt, he was very clear that he wanted a bow tie in his costume.”

When will these be finished? Who knows! Hopefully soon, though, so that Jen, Gwen and Beth don’t have to wait for long. They’re not going to be super long (famous last words?) and I might also post them to AO3 as one entry and then it’s be my 69th work in the Glee fandom, so, uh, nice!

By the way, feel free to send me more asks with lines ;)

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @captain-aralias @takitalks @justgleekout @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @nausikaaa/@wellbelesbian @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @boyinjeans

#tagged in #six sentence sunday

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loooooooovesicks · 2 years ago

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« bensu soral. cis woman. she/her. 32. » was that HAZAL GÜLEN walking through the doors of amorelux ? i heard they just moved in to 701 from NEW YORK CITY, NY and work as a violinist for the seattle symphony. they seem magnanimous & conscientious but don’t get on their bad side ! they can be stoic & self-sacrificing which makes sense since they’re a VIRGO. you know they’re home when you see a flash of the bed freshly made every morning, lines of poetry scribbled on scrap paper, crossing another task off your to do list . ↷ dallas. 23. cet. she/her.

♡ ◞ statistics.

full name: emine hazal gülen. nickname: doesn’t really have one ! date of birth: september 17th, 1989 (32 yrs). zodiac sign: virgo. place of birth: amsterdam, the netherlands. current location: seattle, washington, united states. gender: cis woman, uses she / her pronouns. sexuality: bisexual. languages: turkish (native), dutch (native), english (native).

♡ ◞ bits and bops.

tropes: the girl next door, the mom friend, the allegiant, the altruist. positive traits: conscientious, magnanimous, dutiful, amiable, diligent. negative traits: stoic, self-sacrificing, finicky, indulgent, worrisome. fears: feeling as if she never honoured her mother enough, being inadequate, never being able to find her own happiness. habits: having a strict morning routine, tucking hair behind ear when nervous, constantly apologizing, always singing or humming to herself. likes: scented candles that remind her of the sea, road trips, the perfect cup of tea, the feeling you get when you cross a task off your to do list, traveling, fresh flowers, lipgloss, sending and receiving handwritten cards, playing the violin, reading, writing poetry, watching the sunset, celebrating the holidays, newspaper crossword puzzles, gift giving, fresh breeze coming through an open window, singing in the shower. dislikes: sleeping in too late, cartoon television shows, people who talk during movies, coffee, core workouts, errors in spelling or grammar, dangerous driving, small enclosed spaces, being late, conspiracy theories.

♡ ◞ background.

tw: mention of death, childbirth complications. if you asked her father, nadir gülen, about the day of september seventeenth, he would tell you he remembers it as if it were yesterday. because the arrival of the light of his life went perfectly alongside the departure of the love of his life. complications during childbirth caused hazal’s mother to pass only moments after she let out her first cries, and it ruined her father. it ruined the both of them, even if hazal had never as much as touched her, heard her voice or seen her smile. her presence was always the physical reminder of everyone’s grief. the living reminder of who her mother once was. the breathing reminder of the fact they never got to see her chase her dreams. every single birthday hazal recalls the mournful eyes burning upon her, relatives never voicing but always thinking she looked just like her mother. and only looked more like her as the years passed. she knew that alongside the weak smiles and birthday presents, there was one unspoken thought on everyone’s mind. and she wished they would just talk. about her mother, about who she was, about what she liked and what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. because it hadn’t just ruined her father, or her grandparents, or her aunts and uncles. it had ruined her, too. she had her own grief to deal with. the grief of losing a mother, of losing the chance to know her mother, of coming to terms with never truly understanding the loss of her family. because hazal knew what her mother looked like, knew she took after her in visible ways. but she would never know what she was like, and for the longest time, there were no trips down memory lane. it took years for her father to put aside his own grief, and to allow his daughter to stop feeling disconnected from what had become such an integral part of her identity. it must have been when she was fifteen, maybe sixteen years old when the memory box finally made its way from their attic towards her bedroom. her bed sheets would be scattered in old photographs of her father and mother by the beaches of zandvoort wearing questionable sunglasses and beach attire, trying on her mother’s favourite jacket in front of the mirror, or looking through the handful of novels her father didn’t have the guts to leave behind or throw out. but moving past his grief took much longer than it took him to fall in love again. hazal must not have been older than two or three years old when nadir met cemile sezin in an airport lounge in california. airline pilot nadir himself having just flown from amsterdam to san francisco, and cemile on her way home to new york after having attended a law conference. the two shared way more than a single drink at the bar, and stories that neither of them felt comfortable telling anyone but a stranger. nadir then flew all the way home with heated cheeks and a phone number scribbled down onto a napkin. they met afterwards. more than once. they would return to that airport lounge in the san francisco airport, he would occasionally visit her hometown, and other times she would meet him halfway at an airport hotel. perhaps cemile was not the love of his life, but he fell in love with her nonetheless. head over heels, and probably way too soon. but time simply was not on their side. cemile was pregnant with his child, and with him halfway across the world, being a father was going to prove difficult. with his job being less dependent on his location, hazal and her father relocated to new york city where cemile was working as an assistant professor of law. to say it was an adjustment would be an understatement. she found a new house to call home, a new city to be her hometown and about five months later, she suddenly had a younger sister. half sister. not that the first part of that term mattered particularly. and in the end, maybe cemile was not related to her by blood, and perhaps her younger sister did not share in the grief of her deceased mother. but they were family, and she never failed to call either mom and sister respectively. because after all, it was cemile who first taught her how to play violin. and it was her younger sister who hazal taught to drive. it was cemile who cried at her high school graduation. and it was her younger sister who she shared her secrets with. none of that dimished her connection with any member of her family, not either of her moms, not either side of her family, not her connection to the place she was born. she would allow herself to have both.

♡ ◞ personality.

• a few words to describe what is quintessentially hazal would be a calm, collected exterior with an unprecedented resilience. having grown up handling a lot of complex emotions (and often all at the same time) it takes a lot to sweep her off her feet. the unexpected doesn’t faze her, and she is always thinking ten steps ahead. • hazal has grown up with a natural sense of curiosity, mostly regarding her mother, but has gotten shut down fairly quickly. would get taught from a young age to simply let your head down and not ask too many questions. your grandparents couldn’t handle it, would be what she would’ve been told by her father way too many times when there were questions about her mother laying on the tip of her tongue. she prides herself for being critical and never allowing others to demand control over her thoughts but at the very same time, she has learned how to wisely keep her mouth shut. to be quite frank though, maybe she keeps it shut a little too often these days. • the literal embodiment of mom friend energy. will be the one holding back your hair after a night of drinking a little too much. will always carry snacks in her purse in case someone ends up being a little hungry. always reminds her father of his upcoming anniversary (and every year cemile thinks he’s actually remembered). • she tends to worry, a little bit too much for her own good and way more than others would. overthinks any minor decisions and takes on the mental load for friends and family alike. will remind you of that car appointment you had scheduled, or that work call that you couldn’t forget about, and the fact you ran out of ketchup the other night. honest to god, she’s fucking tired by now. not even necessarily tired of it (she will die before she stops doing this) but tired because of it. • tends to be someone that is very easily forgotten. she rarely ever takes the center stage, and finds herself perfectly blending in on most occasions. after all — she’s sociable enough to mingle with crowds of strangers, yet quiet enough to never really linger on your mind afterwards. she always put the welfare of others before her own, because she can take care of herself. for the most part, at least. because at times she begins to feel a little alone. feeling as if she never measures up, always coming second (maybe even last) in someone else’s mind. people always thinking she does not need them, and does not need them to look out for her, because she is always caring for everyone else. but perhaps she kind of does need someone else to be there for her, too. • professional musician, and to be a bit more precise, an incredibly talented violinist who fell in love with the instrument after her step mother introduced her to it as a toddler. it was love at first sight, and soon to be a very lucrative bonding experience with this new woman in her father’s life. every little step in her career has also led up to this moment — upon graduating high school, she stayed with family in new york city to study a bachelor in music at juilliard. upon finishing, she simply hadn’t made up her mind about what to do with life, finding that she wanted to perfect her skills — simply learn until her professors swore they had nothing left to teach her. she pursued then a masters in composition as well, before being offered a place in the seattle symphony, which is the eventual reason for her move towards the west coast. • equally an amateur poet. hazal is an avid reader, eats through stacks of books on a monthly basis and will be reading at least three books at the same time, whether that be literature or poetry. she even dabbles in a bit of writing herself, though, that isn’t something she plans to pursue professionally in the slightest — quite frankly, the thought of that scares her, and her poems are not nearly quality enough to be shared with those outside of her inner circle. but she carries around this little notebook at all times, sometimes buried deep inside her purse somewhere, simply ready to be pulled out when inspiration strikes unexpectedly. she occasionally leaves her friends short poems in their bags, or will slip them under their doors when she passes by. perhaps as a reminder she cares for them. because in her eyes, poetry is simply a way to add a little beauty to the ordinary sometimes. and she wouldn’t want them to forget that.

♡ ◞ wanted connections.

so first and foremost ... i would like for you all to know i’ve got a connections blog set up for both my muses & it’s just filled to the brim with gif sets and other posts that i think could be a good basis for a plot. basically, it just gives us lots of room to headcanon, chat and plot so much pain and chaos like the evil geniuses we are. so feel absolutely free to take a look over there & suggest things based on that. you’ll be able to find the blog here (or look for @knowthyneighbors) and it’ll be tagged for each muse. but there’s also these brief ideas below that i would absolutely love !

i am not up to date enough with pop culture to make any of the references, but give me one of those cute the ... to her ... you know. best friends whose dynamic will literally be entirely up to debate & based on the chaotic things we think the two of them will come up with. could’ve met in new york, or amsterdam, or even more recently in seattle.

casual romance where maybe they never had the best reputation, but hazal is thoroughly convinced she can fix them. news flash, she probably can’t but her father did not raise a quitter.

confidantes of sorts, where they both know each other like the back of their hand & who sees right through her when hazal likes to pretend she isn’t rubbing the stress away from her temples.

unrequited love, from any side could be so interesting. she loves to get up in her head about them, and they are either oblivious to how she feels about them, or they simply do not know how to let her down gently.

or vice versa, someone who has feeling for her and may practically be the only person who gives her the time of day. who thinks about her first instead of second, meanwhile hazal doesn’t look at them other than friendly.

perhaps a plot where they’re frenemies and they are trying to keep the peace for the good of the building, but they wouldn’t come within each other’s vicinity if it were up to them. perhaps there is a story to it (they keep hogging the laundromats, or they make way too much noise at night) or perhaps there is just bad vibes only at this point.

something such as enemies with benefits could be very spicy. they think she is a total buzzkill, she believes they do not have their head screwed on right but none of that really matters when they are occupied with other things.

perhaps this is a little bit lame but i would die for a book club. it doesn’t have to be a big thing, perhaps some of the residents simply get together one evening a week & plan to read the same books, then get tipsy in one of the common areas or someone’s apartment while discussing what they thought about the book.

something like a former pen pals plot could be adorable. maybe childhood friends who met each other on holiday once and exchanged information. perhaps they got paired at one point for a school project and stayed in contact. hazal would love to send them handwritten letters and postcards, although let’s be real we would probably get into the msn and aim era as well, but it would be just adorable.

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