#I can't parse it for shit

[this-love-is-delicate]

One of my fave things to do is listen to pop songs and figure out the melody on piano just from listening and then try to figure out the chord progression and then once I think I have it look up what it is and see how right I was like it's like one of the few things I'm really proud of myself for being able to do

[moe-broey]

Miwabiwis.......

I actually do like her official outfit! I just... had a deep need.... put that girl in a nightgown and slippers RIGHT NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️ Also it is admittedly so much easier to draw 🧍

I did try to keep in line with most of her official look though! Or add more emphasis to little details, like the red berries... other details I added, like the bloomers, keep the roundness of her og dress! BUT ALSO.... they are just so cutes.... I imagine they're made of rose petals...... I was also thinking angelic motifs. With the dress shape, and the smaller wings shaped as such!

[bookwyrminspiration]

reading gideon the ninth:

reading harrow the ninth:

[musical-chick-13]

Idk if any other bisexual women experience this, but I feel like I'm always getting judged (implicitly or explicitly) for my taste in men? Almost like, "Well, I'll begrudgingly concede that you're actually attracted to women, but my acceptance of you is conditional on whether I approve of the men (fictional or real) you're interested in."

[wildflowercryptid]

ngl i have so many thoughts about penelope sitting in the back of my mind, she's such an interesting character...

[echthr0s]

being anxious about doing group content in MMOs -- especially pugged content as opposed to running with guildies or friends -- is the most face-palm-worthy thing because when I finally start doing it I realise very fucking quickly that the majority of other players really just be out here doin whatever

when you're anxious about something you tend to over-prepare, after all, to try to gain the best possible outcome. and meanwhile these other players who just be jumpin into shit without a care in the world because it's never occurred to them to worry about anything oftentimes are just... not as prepared. you could even say... not as good :V

which is funny because I've always thought of myself as a below-average gamer skill-wise but that's because I was comparing myself to the wrong people. yeah, in comparison to Very Good players I do not measure up, but in comparison to people who don't even bother reading their tooltips or learning party dynamics, or who are allergic to doing out-of-game research, or who have never dodged an AOE in their life and will yell at you for helpfully suggesting they do so... lmao

[telvanni-nerevarine]

.

[genderqueerdykes]

this summer has been brutally hot. while you're trying to stay cool, please consider giving cups or bottles of water to any homeless people you see. i honestly don't care what your stance on homelessness is: just do it. if you've never had heat exhaustion or heat stroke, you have no idea how utterly miserable overheating is, and it gets worse when you're dehydrated. now consider how much worse it gets when you don't have a consistent source of shade to lower your body temperature. nobody "Deserves" heat exhaustion or heat stroke, leave your "they have to earn shelter" shit at the door. no one's listening.

i live in what's regarded as the worst part of town, dubbed "the war zone". i have countless homeless people walking by my apartment daily, and whenever i'm on the porch, I do my best to offer what I can. some folks turn me down for food, not every person who comes across my block needs narcan, but water is always gratefully accepted. please try to give water instead of sugary drinks if possible and avoid caffeine, as that is a diuretic and can cause people to dehydrate faster. if all you have is juice or soda, go ahead, but please give water when and where possible.

i have never had anyone get belligerent with me even despite the awful nickname this part of town has gained. if someone seems like they are in the middle of a psychotic episode (speaking to someone you can't see, irritable outbursts, confusion, reacting to cues you can't see, and so on) and are visibly agitated or angry, give them space and don't force them into anything. DO NOT CALL THE COPS ON THEM. don't call the cops on ANY homeless people. when a psychotic person is in the middle of an episode, what they are seeing, hearing and feeling are real to them, and can be perceived as life-threatening. sometimes someone in the middle of a psychotic episode cannot parse that you are not a threat, especially if they are in the middle of a particularly paranoid episode, which happens extremely easily when you have nowhere safe to rest your head at night. constantly having to watch over your own shoulder can easily lead to someone feeling constantly persecuted.

my neighbors have been handing out food, water, and cigarettes too, without any provocation from me. now that I've moved in, we have someone to hand out narcan, too. we can build a more compassionate world. if everyone on my block wordlessly helps the homeless folk who walk past without any provocation from someone else, the whole world can be this kind. i promise it can. you can possibly save a life just by reaching out. we all have the power to make a change for the better. a simple glass of water can literally save a life. your unsheltered neighbors are still your neighbors.

[mb-blue-roses]

Realization that I might have a crush on a friend of mine. It's deffo unrequited tho

Bleugh emotions are hard

[moe-broey]

Brain still soup but like. I think making one or both (or more!) characters involved in relationships with each other aromantic makes the dynamic soooooo much more compelling. Because if you remove romance as a motivator, you really get down to the nitty-gritty as to WHY that character is seeking out/involved in those relationships in the first place. Whether that relationship involves romantic factors or is more of a queer platonic thing. Much to think about....

[hylemorph]

Anna and Friedrich in Nosferatu (2024)

In a previous post I mentioned how important I think Friedrich is in the story as a representation of the patriarchal ideal, and how it/he crumbles when confronted by everything that has been suppressed in Ellen (manifested in the unavoidable, terrifying form of Orlok). I also think he is a mirror to Orlok in some ways: he says twice how he just cannot resist Anna, he subtly frames his desire for her as an unwilling "affliction." He also defiles Anna's body and his sacred marriage vows by engaging in necrophilia, because his appetite for her is so consuming - he can't resist her even when she's not even there anymore. Ellen's necrophilic act with Orlok represents her unification with the parts of herself that are suppressed/rejected by the men in her life, good and bad. It's dark and fucked up but metaphorically transformative, and consent is absolutely central. Friedrich's necrophilic act involves no consent, no Anna, and it lacks any metaphorical power. He didn't accomplish anything, he just succumbed to his own horror and amplified it.

Friedrich's unhealthy approach to his relationship with Anna consumes them both, and I think this theme is especially evident in the way Anna's pregnancy is discussed. Friedrich tells Thomas that they are expecting but doesn't want it mentioned in front of Anna or Ellen, probably because it wasn't supposed to be public yet. In victorian times people would rarely confirm a pregnancy before the woman was "showing" both because it was considered a private matter and because miscarriage was way more common. But Friedrich tells Thomas early anyways, because he is excited and proud, which is understandable but also selfish in this context. Furthermore, Anna says that "little Friedrich" is "very hungry, just like his father" and later on after Orlok has fed on her, she passes it off as feeling drained by the baby. Even though she seems happy and loves her family, she associates pregnancy with being drained.

This alienated way of understanding parenthood is also evident in the way Friedrich and Anna treat their girls (Louise and Clara I think?) They obviously both adore the girls, but they ignore their terror and assume the monster they see in their room is totally unrelated to all the other scary shit going on, because they're just silly little kids imagining things, right? One girl literally says "I can hear him breathing under my neck!" and they beg Anna not to leave them alone at night, but they are just hushed and told that they're totally safe. It's exactly the kind of dismissal Ellen has been getting her whole life, and so it's not surprising that the girls are haunted by Orlok before anyone else. It's not enough to adore little girls, they will never be safe until they are heard and believed.

Anna as a character apart from her role as wife and mother is a bit harder to parse out, but I think she is also a mirror for Ellen. Ellen's spiritual power is the catalyst for everything that happens, and von Franz says that "in heathen times you might have been a Priestess of Isis." Anna's spiritual inclination is less obvious, but it's there: she seriously listens to Ellen and believes that she is perceiving something real, she just assumes it must be God. Later when she lets Ellen stay with her for the night, she says "God is with us Lenny, I know it." On some level Anna is also in touch with that supernatural, suppressed feminine truth, and she seems to see through the patriarchal facade that Friedrich represents to some degree. But ultimately Anna wants to convince herself and Ellen that the night terrors were just caused by Thomas' absence, and that Ellen just needed her husband back and all would be well. When Thomas does return and Ellen has her faculties again, Anna is very eager to put it all behind them; 'no more talk of demons please, let's just focus on Christmas and being a happy family'. Anna's downfall is that she puts all her faith in the Christian patriarchal narrative even when she can clearly see that there's more going on. Her faith in the Christian God contrasts Ellen's "heathen" spirituality - both women have an innate spiritual sense, but one is more willing to make it fit into the values of their society. Ultimately Anna was consumed by the horror of their alienated position in society just like Ellen was, she just died with less agency.

[krockat]

false dichotomy. i need both

i can basically not hear what videos or shows n etc are saying w/out subtitles. i got bad hearing in my ears (esp one of em) and also bad audio processing.

and also. i got bad dyslexia and eyesight. so if i can only rely on reading.... then that is difficult or sometimes even impossible.

it also reallyyy doesn't help if it's something i find difficult to understand, or boring. and if it's both then i often don't even bother - as it just won't work, or take a tremendous amount of effort and energy.

my brain and body both get hella exhausted.

also i am often too tired and/or distracted to Only read for long, or Only listen for long.

so like..... school was very hard for me as they often didn't help me at all w my disabilities :D

[leashybebes]

living at the edge of the world (2/2)

part 1 | ao3 version here

aaaaand we're done. needs a polish but it should be on ao3 early next week if anyone prefers to read there!

The hospital moves around him.

That's how it feels. Like Buck, still in his turnouts, is pinned and at the mercy of gravity (gravity pulling at the chopper, fighting with mechanics and engineering and winning, always winning and - no) while the whole world moves around him, able to go on somehow, while he's just - here. Noises blur and blend into a background roar that fades under the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, the lights are too bright, his hands hurt from how tight he's been balling them into fists to stop them shaking. 

Tommy had disappeared through those doors into surgery with a crowd of doctors and nurses around him and even knowing that he wouldn't be allowed, Buck had tried to follow only to be - gently, kindly, firmly turned back. And now he's sitting here, him and Tommy both victims of gravity, and Tommy might as well be on the other side of the planet for how far away he feels.

Time stretches and compresses around him, meaningless waves of seconds and minutes and centuries.

He still hasn't cried.

Hen shows up first, with a bag of his clothes and a hug that he collapses into.

"They won't tell me anything," he says, muffled into her shoulder. "I'm not - not an emergency contact."

"Okay," she says. "Go get changed. I'll talk to them."

Buck blinks and he's in the bathroom, dressed in the clothes Hen must have taken from his locker.

His turnouts won't fit into the bag. He remembers they had the same problem after Maddie and Chim's wedding - Tommy's turnouts too large and too stiff to fit in a bag. Buck had run them down to the Jeep, part of him thrilling at the sight of Tommy's name, right there on his backseat. He flips his own turnouts inside out to try to keep the mess off his clothes.

Blinks and he's back in the waiting room.

"He'll be in surgery for a while," Hen says when she sits back down next to him. "His emergency contact is on the way, we'll find out more then. Sorry I couldn't get more out of them."

"That's okay," Buck says, and his voice comes out croaky and weak. He clears his throat, but doesn't have anything to say.

Hen puts her arm around his shoulders and it takes him a beat to lean into it.

"Tommy's tough," she says, and he nods, trying not to remember how scared Tommy had looked, how scared he'd sounded, those awful moments in the ambulance where he'd - where he'd had to be brought back, because - because he was gone.

"I should have told him," he says. 

"Hmm?"

"That I love him. I should have said it. Hen, why didn't I say it?"

"You'll get the chance," she tells him. "You've gotta believe that."

Some indeterminate period of time later, Chim arrives, side by side with -

"Sal!"

He looks harried, still in his uniform, like he came right from his station on the other side of town. Buck only met him a couple of times when he and Tommy were dating, didn't know he'd be the emergency contact, but it makes sense. Tommy's cousin lives near Portland - shit, someone should call him, Buck thinks - and it would have to be someone local.

"Hey, kid," Sal says. "You got here quick."

"We were at the scene," Hen says, her voice heavy with a significance Buck can't parse right now.

"Ah, hell. Alright. Hang tight."

Chim sits on the other side of Buck, him and Hen like brackets, holding Buck together. Buck thinks they're talking but he can't hear it, can't look away from where Sal is at the nurse's station, talking seriously and quietly with someone Buck can't see. 

"Can - can someone let Eddie know?" Buck asks. 

"Already did," Chim says. "Maddie's dropping Jee with Anne and John and she'll be here as soon as she can."

Buck nods, draws breath to say something about Tommy's cousin but it sticks in his throat when Sal turns and heads back towards them.

"Okay," he says. "He's still in surgery, probably will be for a bit yet because of some internal bleeding and they want to set the breaks they can while he's under, too. They sound hopeful, though. They said the care he got on the scene was top rate, really pulled him through. Guess we have you two to thank for that," he adds, glancing at Hen and Chim.

"That's good to hear," Hen says. "I'm gonna do a coffee run, update Karen. Sal, you still milk, no sugar?"

"Aw, Wilson, I'm touched. Usually yeah, but put like, four, five sugars in there for me, okay? Could be a long night."

"Gross," Chim says mildly, but it sounds like a reflex.

"Buck?" Hen prompts. "You want anything else?"

Buck shakes his head mechanically. His stomach hurts. Set the breaks and internal bleeding ricocheting around in his head. 

"Okay," Hen says gently, squeezing his shoulder. She exchanges a glance with Sal, who takes her vacated chair next to Buck as soon as she stands.

Time does its thing - swooping, contracting, passing with no new information. More people trickle in as the hours pass. 

Maddie sits next to Buck and holds his hand. Bobby hugs him and makes awkward small talk with Sal. Lucy and a couple of other people from Harbor trickle in and take up seats around the room. Buck's phone vibrates intermittently in his pocket but he can't bring himself to look at it.

All he can think about is Tommy. Tommy looking so scared. Tommy bleeding and crying and saying how glad he was to see Buck. 

I love you, Buck thinks, hoping wildly that Tommy will hear it somehow.

Finally, finally, an exhausted looking doctor steps through the doors and says, "Family of Tommy Kinard?"

Everybody looks around from where they're seated, talking in twos and threes. Chim nudges Lucy awake and she flails a little. Sal stands to meet the doctor. Buck wants to stand too, but he feels like he's made of lead, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it's all he can feel. He can't read the doctor's face at all, can't hear what she's saying, can only see that her mouth is moving.

"So he's gonna be okay," Sal says, and then - Buck doesn't know. Sal's saying other things, people are talking, making relieved noises, but he can't hear a word of it. His ears are ringing, his head is spinning, his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest.

Buck's breath rattles in his chest, and dimly he hears Maddie's voice.

" - ck? Buck? Hey, it's okay, just breathe," she urges. 

And oh, there they are. There are the tears. It's a good job he didn't manage to stand before, because he's pretty sure he'd be on the floor by now if he had. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, lets Maddie hold him from one side, Bobby from the other, doesn't think about the other people in the room - half of them little more than strangers to him - and cries and cries.

Once he's settled down - once he's cried himself out - he realizes that the room is a little less full. 

"Where'd - " he croaks, and clears his throat. "Where'd they go?"

"Captain Harman and Lucy have gone to update the rest at Harbor," Maddie says. "Chim's collecting Jee, and Hen's gone to swap over with Karen. She'll be here soon. Eddie called a couple times."

Buck nods. "I'll call him back later."

"Wash your face, kid," Sal says, not unkindly. "We can go sit with him if you want."

Buck starts to launch himself to his feet but finds himself pressed back into the seat by Bobby, who's holding out a pre-packed hospital cafeteria sandwich and a protein bar.

"Eat something first," he orders, and Buck reluctantly agrees. Even that little movement had been enough to make him feel dizzy. He chokes down the food even though it's so much sawdust, and eventually he finds himself in Tommy's hospital room. 

More tears threaten to spring to his eyes at the sight - the cast on his arm, the bulk under the covers of what must be another under the covers, the stitches near his hairline, the IVs, the machines, the beeping. He breathes through it and hesitates before Sal shoves him towards the seat next to the head of the bed. He drags it around a little so he can sit at Tommy's side, carefully taking hold of the hand on his uninjured arm.

"Jesus fucking christ. Kinard and his hero bullshit," Sal mumbles, sounding shaky for the first time.

"You need to sit?" Buck asks, not looking away from Tommy's face.

"For a second," Sal says, collapsing into the other chair. "I need to update Gina and the kids. I spoke to the staff, you can stay."

"Thank you," Buck says absently. 

Time continues to pass. Staff and second visitors come and go, and thankfully no one even suggests that Buck should move. Lucy drops by with food at one point, assuring him it's lunch time, and sitting with him while he eats. Chim comes by and tells him about the last time he was waiting in a hospital for Tommy, drops off a Get Well Soon card from Jee that joins the growing little cluster on the table next to the bed.

When he's left on his own with Tommy at one point, Buck gets up to pace the room, stiff from sitting in hospital chairs for what must be going on double digit hours now, if it's not already long past. It's when he sits down that he notices the fluttering of Tommy's eyelashes. It could be nothing, he tells himself, as he holds his breath and watches, his hand hovering over the call button. When Tommy's good hand starts twitching, when he tries to lift it towards the mask on his face, Buck slams the button.

"Hey," he says softly. "Stay still for me, baby. You're in the hospital. It's okay, someone's coming."

A nurse appears in the doorway and Buck retreats from the bed. He feels like he's more present in his head now than he was before, mentally taking notes on the nurse's conversation with the doctor he summons, on what they both say to Tommy and to him. As they're leaving, he fires off a text to the group chat, then puts away his phone and takes Tommy's hand again.

Those beautiful blue eyes, still a little hazy with painkillers, turn to him.

"Evan."

"Hey, Tommy. You scared the crap out of us," he says. Tommy's hand, shaking a little, lifts to his face, strokes his thumb over Buck's cheek like the tears are still visible.

"Sorry," he croaks. "Needed a week off and really didn't wanna use up my PTO."

Buck laughs, shaky and a little wild, presses his cheek more firmly into Tommy's hand. "You dick," he says fondly. "Here."

He grabs a glass of water from the bedside table, holds the straw steady for Tommy to take a couple of sips.

"Thanks," Tommy says, sounding a bit more like himself.

"That's okay," Buck says. 

"Were - you were there?"

"Yeah," Buck says, and Tommy's eyes close briefly.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I - I should have been less - I was being selfish - "

And Buck - he can't stand to hear that again. Can't stand to hear Tommy calling himself selfish for using what he probably thought were his dying breaths to try to comfort Buck.

"I love you," he says. 

Tommy's mouth opens. Closes. He frowns as though he might have heard that wrong.

"W-what?"

"I don't know if you remember, I - I said we'd talk? In the hospital?"

"I remember," Tommy says. "But - "

"We will," Buck promises. "We'll talk. We have so much to talk about. But the last - jesus, the last 12 hours, I guess, I've been sitting there with all our friends, and I've just been thinking, I should have told him. He should know. So. Now you do. I love you."

"Evan - "

"You don't have to say it. It's okay. I know it's a lot. I know I'm a lot. But. I was sitting out there, with Sal, and Lucy, and your captain - she is scary, by the way - and Hen and Maddie and Chim and Bobby and everyone, and I just couldn't stop thinking…does he know? Like does he know any of these people love him? Does he know I love him?"

"Well," Tommy says after a beat. "Now I do."

"Now you do," Buck says. His phone is blowing up and he starts to reach for it, but Tommy squeezes his hand to keep his attention.

"Hey. I love you too," Tommy says. "I want - I want us to talk, but I'm so tired, I just - I love you so much. I love you now, I loved you when I left, and it scares the shit out of me."

"Me too," Buck admits, ignoring the way his voice cracks.

"Be brave together?" Tommy suggests.

"That sounds perfect," Buck says. "Go to sleep, honey. I'll be here when you wake up."

"I know you will," Tommy says, and he smiles.

tag list! which idk, i'm not 100% sure is working? i'm sorry!!

@geddyqueer @adiprose @peapodbond @poppyspoppy @stolemyhheart @screamlet @buck-unbewildered @beanarie @chococara25 @fenrirscarsback @hyperfocusthusly

@trombonechurchill @thegingerparty @setmeatopthepyre @rcmclachlan @espressotonicc

@untitledbychoice @sunnywithachanceofbi @onceuponatmi @tistai @blitzynatural @laundryandtaxesworld @mubsterstuff @samjohnssonvt

[crunchwrapsupeme]

This shit kind of drive me crazy because women literally look like this today but people just can't parse that our bodies are normal and anything other than a porn body isn't actually the product of "modern day laziness" but is just a normal human body. And I know its just a thumbnail but my god people dont realize how telling their base assumptions are

[genericpuff]

Life update! This is frankly one I've been trying to avoid but at this point it's kiiinda super necessary ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

DISCLAIMER: VERY LONG POST AHEAD. A LOT OF IT IS ME TALKING ABOUT LIFE SHIT OBV. I RAMBLE A LOT AS I TEND TO DO. I'VE BOLDED THE IMPORTANT SHIT SO THAT HOPEFULLY IT'LL MAKE IT EASIER TO PARSE THRU. PLS FORGIVE ME ;-;

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

First things first, I quit my job! Or rather, I put in my resignation letter with my current shop, with two weeks notice. Not something I had to do, I just felt it was the least I could do to go out on decent terms (and it means I can honor the appointments I still have booked and use the time to notify all my clients).

There were several reasons for leaving but ultimately it was a personal decision that will - hopefully - allow me to build a better environment for myself within the larger tattooing industry. I've learned through too much trial and error with all the shops (of which there have been 3) I've worked in that I don't particularly enjoy working in one single shop under one single shop owner. It's often counter-intuitive with my ADHD and anxiety, and it's kind of hard to address my mental health problems when I'm still in an environment that exacerbates them.

Of course, this wasn't an "all or nothing" decision because I frankly wasn't giving up a whole lot by leaving. The tattooing industry has been going through some hard times, between The Great Depression 2: Electric Boogaloo and the oversaturation of shops that exist everywhere now (seriously, everyone and their mom nowadays is a tattoo artist). Not only is the industry changing and being forced to adapt, I too have to change and adapt, not just to maintain my place in this industry, but to align it more with what I need within it, rather than trying to force myself to align with what other people often project (and believe me, some of the people in this industry do a LOOOT of projecting, tattoo artists ruined the tattoo industry fr LOL)

So it's scary, but it's necessary. I'm still gonna be tattooing, but I'm doing it on my own terms now. Instead of locking myself down to a single shop environment waiting for the work to come to me, I'm going where the work is, through guest-spotting and expos and whatever other collaborative opportunities I can find, something that I was a lot more restricted in doing with single shop environments.

Also I'm just like, tired of being broke from not getting more consistent work and the shop splits cutting all my generated income in half LOL There's a reason so many artists - even established folks who have been tattooing for decades - are going private nowadays or opting instead for booth rent shops over the 50/50 splits. I could go on for ages about this but I'd rather spare you all the details because they frankly don't matter here and I don't want to dwell.

Buuut making this decision is, ultimately, to address both my exacerbated anxiety from working in a shop environment, and my financial issues from said environment not benefiting me. Especially now that-

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

-my roommate is moving out in April! I'm very excited but also very terrified. This will be the first time my husband and I have ever been able to live alone since we started living together some 6-7 years ago. Yeah. As much as I'm a social person, at home I'm a hermit and introvert, and I'm frankly just sick of people who I'm not romantically committed to constantly being around. Even when they're sweet people (which my roommate mostly is) it's still like living around a sinkhole. Sure, it's pretty simple to just walk around the sinkhole and place all your furniture around it and mind where it is at all times, but it sure would be nice if the sinkhole just wasn't there to begin with, y'know?

There are so many things I've been wanting to do and simply can't on account of living with a roommate, projects that I want to pursue, spaces that I want to create for both myself and others. Knowing that she's leaving in April has almost made me even more anxious and impatient, because now I'm actually thinking about all the things that will improve and become available to me just with one less person in the house and I'm DYING for it to finally be reality. I can finally have an actual dedicated workspace area that isn't just a corner of a small den, we can separate our leisure space from our work space, we can decorate the whole place how we want it, we don't have to worry about being intruded upon during our conversations, we'll have so much more counter space in the bathroom and kitchen, we don't have to pray that she's not in the bathroom every time we need to use it because that inevitably means we either have to wait an hour or go piss in the corner toilet shoved next to the washing machines, we can put the doors that originally separated the living room from the kitchen and hallway back up because she had removed them to make space for her 15437281 bookshelves. Much of what I'm describing isn't anything that was her 'fault', it was just the circumstances of living with a roommate which I'm just so excited for my husband and I to get away from.

But of course, her leaving means we now gotta make up for what she would normally cover in bills each month (the biggest of which is obviously rent). And with how dire the tattooing scene has become, leaving my shop to pursue other ventures - even if it costs me more time and money and energy on the forefront to do so - felt like a necessary change, because staying there certainly wasn't gonna accomplish anything, either. The shop kind of felt like a sinkhole in and of itself as well, a bottomless pit of unrewarded effort and stress, weighing down on my subconscious every day. While many of these feelings were largely personal, they weren't helped by the nature of that environment being what it was.

Part of my ongoing treatment for my ADHD is accepting and reminding myself that it is a disorder and that I need to allow myself to walk the path of least resistance, rather than force myself to conform to what I think I "should" be able to do out of the instilled belief that if I can't, I'm "failing". Rather, I need to actually build an environment for myself that doesn't work against me. It's not that I'm failing completely on my own, it's a failure of the systems and environments that I've forced myself to exist in for years. What I'm trying to do is going "against the norm", sure, but for someone with ADHD, going against the norm is necessary because the norm isn't built for me.

Going solo with my tattooing and freelance work might end up not panning out, but I won't know until I try, and for now, it sure beats the path of resistance that I've been drudging through with what's now amounted to very little. Going solo means my time is my time again, as is my work and rewards. As scary as it was to hand in that letter of resignation, I've removed myself from the path that was hindering me and set myself on another that promises, at the very least, change. Whether or not it ends up being beneficial or productive change, well, that's something I'll be finding out as I walk it. At least now I can walk it with my head held high and my hopes renewed.

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

It goes without saying that this year has been a rough one so far, and we're only at the end of March. I'm sure most people can tell that I'm not really as "present" as I used to be, especially when it comes to the constant delays in Rekindled updates and lack of posting outside of that. I've been in a state of limbo, where everything and nothing is happening at the same time, waiting for the moment when I could finally make progress (and as I described above, much of that has been tied to my roommate finally leaving). With the move-out date right around the corner, and my resignation handed in, it feels like I can finally start removing things from my plate to make it more manageable, and rearranging everything to include the things I want rather than the tasteless, unfulfilling garbage I've been choking down.

But that leads me to one of the things that will be getting removed from that metaphorical plate.

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

Anyone with ADHD and RSD knows that it's hard to be selfish, even when the situation calls for it. But sometimes you have to be, for the sake of establishing and respecting your own boundaries and care.

So, in a little act of selfishness for the sake of self-care: Episode 70 will be going up as soon as it's available, I'm hoping by next weekend at the latest. After that, Episode 71 will also be going out as soon as it's available, hopefully within 2-3 weeks time as has been needed over the past few months. This will hopefully line up with my resignation from my shop.

Following Episode 71, Rekindled will be taking a mid-season hiatus.

I know this kind of sucks considering all the delays we've already endured, but it's precisely because of those frequent delays as of late that a hiatus is sorely needed. It not only gives me time to rebuild a buffer of some kind, but largely to focus on cleaning up that aforementioned plate of bullshit that Gorgon Ramses himself would throw at a wall.

I'm aiming for the hiatus to last between 2-3 months. During this time, I'm hoping that I'll find enough stability in my real life to dedicate time and care to it again. The reality is that a free-time hobbyist project like this does require free time. And that free time is hard to justify when it's all the time on account of lack of consistent paid work. To put it simply, if I don't have a roof over my head, I can't keep doing what I do here. Rest assured, it's not that dire yet, but it would be if I stayed on the same path. Projects like these are at their best when they can just be done in one's free time, for fun, without the stress of mounting bills and other responsibilities piled on top. That pile's been getting pretty high for me lately and now even Rekindled hasn't been safe from it - while the art and story has continued to elevate itself with each new episode, the turnaround time has lengthened and the stress of Real Life™️ outside of it has affected my own enjoyment in making it.

I love making Rekindled. But if I want to keep loving it, I have to put it aside for a bit so I can cultivate a better environment in which to create it in. Ultimately the suffering and spite isn't what makes Rekindled great, it's joy and care. And neither of those things can be committed to it when everything else around me feels like it's been burned down.

I do still have my own doubts with this decision. Going on long-term hiatuses has always been difficult for me, largely when it comes to getting out of them (fans of my original work are all too familiar with this). But I know the circumstances here aren't the same, and that they won't repeat themselves if I don't allow them to. I have far better tools to combat burnout now than I did even just a year or two ago, but one of those tools is drawing boundaries and knowing when to step away.

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This was obviously a VERY long post and I realize with the Rekindled hiatus announcement near the ass end, a lot of people will surely be wondering where tf Episode 70 is LMAO but I'm sure I'll get asks in my inbox about it anyways that I can respond to, and when we actually go on mid-season hiatus, it'll be mentioned properly in the episode itself with a link to this post.

With my roommate moving out soon and my shop resignation now turned in, I feel like now I at least have the mental room to start breathing again, rather than gasping for air. And that will, in the long run, also allow me to create even more cool shit for both myself and all of you :> I do have plans, both for Rekindled after its hiatus and other projects (wink wink), that I now feel like I can start really getting off the ground with the shackles of my living situation and work environment finally loosening. And I do hope that, whenever those plans start to materialize, y'all enjoy what I have in store! It'll take some patience, and a lot of work, but it's work that I'm hoping will pay off in all the best ways ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Thank you all for your patience, kindness, and support. I know I've been saying this a lot lately with each episode delay, but I am really grateful to get to create what I do for you all. And I wanna keep doing it. I just can't do it without filling in that pesky sinkhole first (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

[alchemistc]

Listen I know @cecilyv and @liminalmemories21 are slow cooking an absolute masterpiece of a Mummy AU that I am going to eat like a gourmet meal, but I just watched The Mummy again and spent the whole time thinking about this, so here have a completely different take:

"No, Maddie, absolutely not. Do you remember what happened last time? There were boils, Maddie. Boils. On this face? Never again."

Maddie mumbles something that Buck can't quite parse but one word sounds vaguely like a name he's spent seven years trying to forget, and it's only when Chim pops up behind her like the freakiest Jack-in-the-box he's ever seen that things kind of become inevitable. "They took Jee, Buck."

---

It's not that he doesn't love this shit. He does. He loves it despite the fact that it's a hand me down interest from parents he's still struggling to have any sort of relationship with. He loves it despite the literal boils this particular special interest have caused him. He loves it despite the fact that he's pretty sure he met the love of his life on one of Maddie's little expeditions, and then the guy had disappeared into the wind. Not before a mind-blowing celebratory night and the most tender forehead kiss he's ever experienced (and he's including Maddie, here, so that really should say something) with the hazy dawn light filtering into Buck's hotel room.

He'd thought he was getting breakfast in bed. A coffee, at least.

Instead he'd been ghosted.

Which is incredibly ironic, considering.

The point is. The point is coming back home with a bunch of gold and maybe a broken heart hadn't killed his enthusiasm for digging into this stuff, following the research trails until every literal and metaphorical stone was turned. He loves it.

He would absolutely not be here if this were anything but family.

"Oh good, you made it," says a familiar voice from somewhere to his left, and Buck tries to give Maddie the evil eye, but she's too busy grinning at her husband.

Buck twists just enough to get a good look at the cleft before he's stomping his way back towards his suite.

---

Tommy is, of course, flying the fucking plane that's going to get them where they need to go.

Buck will admit he'd done a deep dive into piloting during one of his lamer spirals. He knows all sorts of facts about every helicopter known to man and quite a few of the planes.

"We're going to crash," Buck says, when the engine to his left makes another sputtering noise and then starts blowing smoke behind them.

Tommy frowns. "We're not going to crash," he mutters back, and then tips his chin, calls out loudly over his shoulder. "Maddie, Howie, you two strapped in?"

Buck isn't a fan of the tenor of his voice.

Who is he fucking kidding? He's a huge fan of that voice. He's been hearing it moan his name in his dreams for more than half a decade. Any version of that voice is something Buck wants to latch onto and never let go.

"We're not going to crash," Tommy repeats, and glances over at Buck like he's trying to drink in the sight of him.

---

They manage to salvage a good two-thirds of the water, two of Bucks suitcases ("You don't pack light, do you?" Tommy had asked, getting the bag that was almost entirely books over his shoulder like it weighed next to nothing. "Sorry my baggage is such an inconvenience." hadn't been his wittiest rejoinder of all time but it had made Tommy flush an interesting shade of purple.) and about twelve guns from the wreckage.

"Guns are notoriously not great at stopping ghosts."

Tommy glowers and continues cleaning his gun. In the firelight, his eyes have taken on a shade of blue that Buck absolutely isn't trying to memorize.

"Good thing human men took your niece, then, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that was great, no."

Chim whispers something to Maddie that makes her grin, and Buck scowls at them both.

---

"I'm so goddamn tired of boils, Maddie!"

"It's - you look fine. We just have to send Billy back where he came from and they'll clear right up. Just like last time."

"And if they don't? Your brother's going to die loveless and alone because no one's gonna want to kiss a face full of boils!"

Tommy hums to his left, shuffles, checks his watch, which definitely got broken in the crash. Buck is absolutely not thinking about the full-on make out they'd had in the middle of a graveyard full of fucking murderous ghosts while the boils were still definitely there on his face.

---

Apparently he should have brought a gun to a ghost fight, he thinks, when he glances down and catches sight of the red stain steadily growing on his shirt.

"Evan!"

Maddie's doing her chant thing over by the dias, and Jee's safely tucked in Chim's arms, and -

"Tommy," Buck manages, when Tommy catches him mid-fall and leans him back against the side of a truly hideous mausoleum.

"Hey. Evan, hey. You're - Maddie's just gotta finish up a few more lines and then you'll be good, okay? No more boils. You'll get thousands more kisses from however many people you like, alright?" He sounds a little panicked. Which is fair, considering. Ghost bullets fucking hurt.

"God, you're an idiot," Buck manages between wheezes. Things are - things are looking a little blurry around the edges. Buck lowers himself to a sit and sinks hands into the earth beneath him. "I'm gonna die still in love with the stupidest man who ever lived."

"You're not going to die," Tommy says, and he's eye level now, pressing at the spot where Buck's life is leaking out of him. Blue eyes, cleft chin, that stupid curl that never failed to release itself to settle over his forehead.

"Perfect time to completely miss the point," Buck manages through clenched teeth, and when Tommy's eyes catch his they look - terrified.

He's expecting it, maybe, a little, because he's being a little shit and that had always driven Tommy a little wild. Still. The press of lips against his is nice, and the tongue and teeth are even better, right up until he can't hold in the cough any longer and spits up blood right into Tommy's mouth.

"You're not gonna die," Tommy says, desperate now, as the world starts to tilt on its axis, and Buck curls a hand over Tommy's forearm and smiles.

---

Death isn't great. Kinda boring, actually. He's been here for five minutes or maybe an eternity when things start to go a little wonky. The endless nothing is either shrinking or expanding and Buck can't quite figure out if it's black or white or maybe just nothing and then it's shattering and shaking and gone.

---

"Ow," Buck says, and blinks open his eyes to find blue ones staring back.

They stay like that for a moment.

"So, you're O for two," Buck says, and Tommy immediately starts crying.

---

Tommy shifts a hand over Buck's jawline, calluses catching on a bit of scar tissue the boils left behind this time. Apparently they only clear up completely if you're still alive when the curse is broken.

"So there's a job," Tommy says, grooves on his face deepening, leg shifting restlessly over top of Buck's thigh. It's a trick - he knows it is, but he's still coming down off the high and Tommy's smile could probably make him do anything even if he hadn't just given Buck a Top Ten orgasm.

"No mummies. No ghosts. I swear to god Tommy if it's anything haunted I'm going to get those thousands of kisses somewhere else."

Tommy's grin is a little smug for his liking. "Have you ever heard of a Dybbuk box?"

Against his better judgement, Buck immediately begins spewing every bit of knowledge he's ever retained about them.