storybook-darning

[storybook-darning]

We're excited to get it done to jump back into writing again! We just get side-tracked with things like our Polish learning. We still have so many Polish learning books to go through that we got ourselves for Christmas!

That being said, does anyone have book reccomendations? I'd love to know what kind of books that you all have enjoyed! I'd like to be better at reading more books.

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A small laugh tittered from her lips as they curved into a wide smile. "Oh, I could never ask of you something I couldn't do myself. I can be clumsy. It can't be helped." Pulling the thread, the stitching seemed to dissapear below the fabric as she tied a last knot. Leaving only a seam line across the tear, the mending was complete.

She couldn't deny she was a bit surprised by the request to teach her own skill. But she was never one to pass up an oppurtunity to share knowledge. "I can't promise you I'm the best teacher..." She hesitated as she thought. To Dolly, sewing was a rythm for her hands. How one explains a rythm stumped her a bit.

"But I can certainly try my best. Do you have something you'd like to make?"

She’s as still as a cold winters night. A fond look falling into that single hue as she listened to Dolly speak. Her work was gentle, and appreciated as such with every stitch. Ragatha wouldn’t deny that she felt the same way. Fixing something instead of simply throwing it away gave it much more meaning. The love and attention given to the things you held dear made them that much more special.

“That was a beautiful way to put it, Dolly.” Her voice soft to mimic the others. “And thank you. I’ll be much more careful next time, promise. Perhaps you could even teach me? And in return I can.. oh! Show you have to make my special Holiday cookies.”

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Dolly gave a sympathetic smile and a nod toward the angel. She listened with a warm hum, as she held a needle between her lips. A spool of blue thread was produced from within her pockets. Unraveling a few inches of thread and breaking the end with teeth, no time was wasted as the needle was threaded and tied off.

Dolly took a soft breath, as if to steady herself. "Tears show beauty and life." she started softly, as she trotted close toward the gentle angel. "They hold memories, experiences.." She spoke gently, as if talking to herself as she carefully begun her stitches. "To be changed through them.. There's a beauty in that."

She gave a small laugh, smiling up at the taller doll. "So... I think there's a beauty in mending." A soft silence began to creep in before she interjected herself "A-At least, to me." Dolly's voice grew softer as she talked, averting her eyes to look back down towards her work.

A hand covers the small giggle that the Angel lets out as the other pulls their selves from the tree. A sight to behold for sure. And as Dolly agreed to help her out, Ragatha felt her wings flutter happily behind her. Even taking her up a few inches from the ground. "Oh how kind of you. I appreciate any help I can get today." Her single hue closed with an angelic smile on her pretty face.

-- However, the pin cushion definitely caught her attention. A look of bewilderment crossing her rosy features. "Oh my! Do you know how to sew?" The question was wrapped in excitement, even though she had tried to keep herself calm and collected. "I uh.. I caught myself on a tree branch a few days ago. I thought I could pull myself free but.. As you can see, the tree had other plans."

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What tragic death would you suffer?

the sacrifice

you die saving the thing you love. maybe it is family, friends, perhaps even a cause. they will carry your face with them for the rest of their lives, and every milestone they pass will make them think of you. it does not matter because you won't be there to experience it with them. years down the line, they will meet people who do not even know the weight of your name upon their skin. this is what your selflessness gets you in the end.

Tagged by: stolen from @/fvnnythiings

Tagging: steal it from me!

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With an soft jingle from within the tree, the lamb's head escaped from the prickly embrace of pine needles. Dolly had noticed the beautiful tree and had come closer to admire it. Though, a glint of yellow within the tree had piqued her curiosity. She had assumed it to be silly string, a garland, or even a ribbon. However, on her closer inspection, it seemed to be.. Spray cheese?

To add to her situation, a new friendly face had come to greet her, and she was woefully underprepared for a good first impression. Her cheeks flushed in embarassment as she carefully disloged her arms from within the tree's branches to face the kind woman. Thankfully for her, Ragatha had seemed to pick up word on her name without the fumblings of needing to speak. A quiet relief to her.

"Oh, yes! Yes, of course." Her quiet voice squeaked with a bit of urgency. She straightened her posture as if to signify it's importance. Her eyes shifted around as she searched for the decorations to arrange. Though, the soft white rip in Ragatha's dress caught her eye. A hand reached into her apron pocket and produced a well-used tomato pin cushion.

She raised a brow to Ragatha while looking toward her with her tools in hand in silent questioning towards her.

"You must be Dolly." Her voice sang as she noticed @storybook-darning watching her re-organize the tree. Jax had certainly been messing with it.. For the icicles he left behind was a sure give away. --

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. -- Silly me. I'm Ragatha." Her hands smooth out the ice blue dress, very careful to avoid the small rip where stuffing had started poking out. "I hate to ask, but could you possibly help me out? Some of these ornaments need to be changed. We want the tree to be perfect for the holidays."

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just in case you didn’t know this

your ‘canon’ character is an oc. they’re an oc from the original creator of the series. 

there’s nothing wrong w/ having a preference but if you think that ‘canon characters’ are better, guess what – there rly isn’t such a thing as canon character.

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i'll be the sweetest lamb for you; most gentlest as you eat me away. flesh and bones. marrow and soul. your canine teethe sinking deeply into my flesh—severing me whole as your mouth drips with my blood. all because i want you to love me. to fill your stomach with me. to taste me and eat every last bit of me.

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i'm literally the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb because i am so docile and sweet and i hold very still when they put the rope around my neck and i trot along so happily while they lead me to the altar and they do not even have to tie me down because i lie so very still and only bleat once or twice in my lovely lamb voice and when the knife comes down it cuts through me like butter and i offer no resistance and i bleed so prettily all over my new white wool and my guts all unspool like the most beautiful shining yarn and my eyes are animal and dumb and hold no accusation and every time i die i come right back as another little lamb because the priest loves me so so much and he always chooses me for the sacrifice every time and he always places one hand on my small and twitching nose to calm me while he lifts the knife and he doesn't do it for the other lambs only me because i'm his favorite

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Maybe it's just the memories of childhood, but accapella music is so ethereal to me. Haunting, but beautiful. I'm not christian, but growing up singing hymns and being in choir gives me fond feelings in a way i can't describe. Nostalgia, in a way, but more than that.

I highly reccomend Midnight Mass to those that can stomach religious themes. It critisizes religion while agknowledging the good and bad that can come from it. The soundtrack and cinemetography with it? The storytelling alone? My god. It's beautiful. I need to go re-watch it again.

I was given a lot of Christian media as a child. I had 3 bibles alone meant for me with my name etched into each. I was given animated cartoons of bible stories that I would now say were not entirely age-appropriate.

I was born and given a heavy weight of precious christian guilt at such a young age. Determined to be the perfect sacrificial lamb to make everything right. To be the perfect daughter, the perfect neighbor, the most perfect and sweet little girl. After all, that's what I was taught. It's all I knew. I could never even fathom the slightest deviation.

So much of that time, those feelings, those complicated thoughts that weaved itself into Dolly's stuffing. The bittersweet feelings to the psalms I was so carefully cherry-picked and fed made up the stitching to her body. But still, I fear being sacreligious, and she weeps for a forgiveness she never even needed.

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Seemingly overnight, it seemed the world turned white. Dolly had noticed the days turning colder and darker. Had she missed a grave sign to God's wrath?

The thought of setting some kind of plauge on the gentle neighborhood chilled her. The icy wind started to sting her cheeks as if to add insult to injury. With an uneasy hum, she closed the door without stepping past.

How would she ever remedy this? How would her neighbors forgive her for such a cold blinding blemish on their town?

Dolly frowned, a deep furrowed crease knotting between her eyebrows. She wasn't sure what it was that had invaded their town, and she knew even less what to do about it. She certainly couldn't hide it all. There was simply too much of it. The town had so far been kind and gracious to her. Maybe you would know what to do?

"Something's .... Wrong?"

Was all she managed to bleat out as she wrung her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth from the door.

[storybook-darning]

Seemingly overnight, it seemed the world turned white. Dolly had noticed the days turning colder and darker. Had she missed a grave sign to God's wrath?

The thought of setting some kind of plauge on the gentle neighborhood chilled her. The icy wind started to sting her cheeks as if to add insult to injury. With an uneasy hum, she closed the door without stepping past.

How would she ever remedy this? How would her neighbors forgive her for such a cold blinding blemish on their town?

Dolly frowned, a deep furrowed crease knotting between her eyebrows. She wasn't sure what it was that had invaded their town, and she knew even less what to do about it. She certainly couldn't hide it all. There was simply too much of it. The town had so far been kind and gracious to her. Maybe you would know what to do?

"Something's .... Wrong?"

Was all she managed to bleat out as she wrung her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth from the door.

[storybook-darning]

Late Night Radio

Barnaby B. Beagle/ Dolly Doe Oneshot

Flailing, kicking, a fury.

Within a second, Barnaby is awake.

His first concious thought is to rush out and check the henhouse. It only takes a moment before his eyes dart and settle on the lamb next to him. He isn't at the farm. Then a small wave of relief washes down the adrenaline. Along with a kick to his thigh.

Ow.

Misiu grimaces. His snout crinkles as he uses his paws to grasp onto Dolly's hooves as gently as possible. Enough to hold firm, but not to hurt.

"Hey, Doll, Dolls-?"

His soft shaking of her legs, along with Barnaby's soothing tone were cut short by Dolly yelping awake. Her eyes darted open, bursting open with tears overflowing off of her cheeks.

Her breath was shaking and heavy, with her flailing now replaced by a tremble. It filled her whole body. His heart tore at the sight.

"Woaah, hey... hey... S'alright, see? It's all alright... It's just me. Your pal Barnaby is right here for ya'." A few nervous chuckles cracked through his calm tone.

Dolly's eyes seemed to soften, and the tension in her body relaxed. Barnaby let go of her hooves, moving his arms to scoop up the lamb in his arms.

"Just a crummy dream. Ain't nothin' gonna get you here."

Barnaby mumbled as he got up from the bed. The strange little routine they had after her nightmares. He flicked a knob on the small table, and the radio crackled and flickered to life.

"Poor thing. Another nightmare, huh?"

The static buzzed just a bit over the music, but in a way it was soothing to the both of them.

"You wanna talk about it, lambchop?"

Misiu prodded gently. He set her into bed first, before padding his way into the bed, beside Dolly. She rolled the hem of the blanket in her fingers with a stubborn hum. Finally, she shook her head with a gentle, "No thank you."

Barnaby nodded in agreement. He had to admit that he was a bit dissapointed each time. But he was hardly going to be the one pushing that subject. Anything that scares Dolly that much has to be serious.

"Seams like we're gonna have a long night, huh Dolly?"

He yawned out. Pulling the cord of the lamp beside him, the room lit up in a hazy golden-amber glow. She shifted and squinted as she adjusted to the glow. Stretching her legs out, she smoothed the fabric of her pajamas against her fingers. It was just a dream..

She always felt such awful wave of guilt after the wave of fear ebbed away down to the tips of her hooves. 'The things poor Barnaby has to endure to house me...' The thought weighed heavy on her.

Though Barnaby never looked upset by her nightmares, even when she thrashed or screamed. She knew it was always just a matter of time before he would. It was the words that came after that she really feared.

Turning a lazy smile to the lamb, he bows his head toward her. Maybe out of a canine instinct, maybe just because he thought laying his head ontop of someone felt nice. His ear flopped above her beating heart. The rythm was always so soothing to him.

"How about a story to distract ya?"

Her downturned eyes shone with a glimmer of excitement. He could never resist a captive crowd long. Misiu chuckled warmly and closed an eye.

"I knew y'woudn't be able to resist."

As if a quiet 'thank you', Dolly's hand moved to pet his head. Even as she spoke more and more, Barnaby couldn't help noticing how much Dolly used her actions to talk for her. It was something he found unique and endearing.

She hadn't been in the neighborhood long from when she had wandered into their little neck of the woods. The poor lamb was lost and afraid, and the neighborhood agreed to lend a helping hand to their new neighbor.

Dolly and Poppy's temperaments were similar enough to get along quite well at first. Poppy was more than happy to have a little extra space in her soft nest. The problem only started a few days after.

Night terrors.

Barnaby wasn't sure why, but she had them terribly. Dolly had a tendency to kick, hit, flail and fight while asleep. Being much bigger and with a considerably fluffy guy, the problem wasn't so much her strength as much as her hooves. He was certain that one day he'd get knocked out himself trying to wake her.

"Alright, I've got one for ya."

He lifted his head from her stomach, laying down beside her. He cradled an arm around Dolly.

"When I was a little puppy, my ma told me a campfire story that scared the spots right off me! I was a real wreck, and nothin' could make it right. Nightlights didn't make me feel any safer."

Dolly's lip was pursed in a little pout as she placed her head onto his chest.

"Hey, I promise this story ain't a pity party. Just ya wait. Patience, Miss Doe!"

His chuckle lightly bounced Dolly's head, bobbing up and down as her nose scrunched up and her tongue popped out from her lips. With a roll of Barnaby's eyes he continued on.

"Anyway, one day it sorta hit me. I wasn't afraid of some silly made-up fairytale. I was just afraid of my ma getting hurt. Sometimes I just needed a night to sleep in my ma's nest. Though, that excuse started to fly a whole lot less when I hit my growth spurt."

Dolly's eyes had closed with a little smile and a giggle.

"Plus, learning to use ma's revolver helped plenty of those worries, too."

Just as quickly as her eyes closed, they opened with a raised brow.

"I'm not jokin' ya. You're outta luck, though. I don't own those."

Dolly gave a little hum as she closed her eyes and furrowed her brows. A gentle scratch behind his left ear seemed to whisper a 'thank you' to him.

"Now get some sleep. You sheep aren't gonna count yourselves. Other than ewe, anyway. I'll keep ya safe."

As if to prove the fact, he gently squeezed the arm wrapped around her. Dolly's hand reached to pet Misiu's cheek. Her smooth hooved fingers gently rubbed against his furry cheek. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled against the cool feeling.

The radio crackled as the faintest sound of raindrops pattered on the window.

[storybook-darning]

Oh my god my girlfriend found a bottle that actually has my antidepressants in it I'm SAVED. Thank you girlfriend I love you girlfriend.

I would love to be writing more than anything but I can barely function at the moment! My antidepressants ran out and I am going through awful, terrible withdrawls. I am so dizzy even just sitting! I have no idea how soon I can get into the doctors for an appointment to get more medicine. New state, new doctor, all that.

Apologies if we are very MIA! This is extremely unfun and very debhilitating... I'm more snappy and irritable than I usually am because I am so disoriented I think. I may try to power through and write anyway but I don't think that will do us much good.