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12timetraveler · 2 months

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if you're still looking for random requests/inspo ♥️ how do you think it would go down if Arthur tried teaching Albert to hunt??

Shot

Content: Arthur Morgan & Albert Mason, hunting, bromance, romance?, 2AM if you squint, cowboys having feelings.

Authors note: Hello Hello! It's been a minute since I've posted anything. I've been dealing with burnout for the last few months and typing words has been like pulling teeth. Even the joys of Black Hills Redemption couldn't pull me out of my slump. But this ask was sent in to me and it sparked an Idea™ so here we are! Hope y'all enjoy.

I really liked this prompt a lot and I had a ton of fun writing it!

I left their relationship a little more open. Y'all know I ship it like FedEx but I didn't really feel like going into the romantic aspects of the relationship so this could be a romance or a bromance. Readers choice.

As always this was written on my phone so if you see any typos or weird autocorrect things, no you don't.

Also just a shout-out to Matt if you're reading this! You sparked some Albert content in my brain which has been very helpful for overcoming the writer's block so thank you! 💙

The full story can be read below or on AO3 (Must be logged in to view on AO3. Blame AI bots for that.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you're going to be out in the wilderness, you need to know how to survive,” Arthur had explained to Albert over some drinks at the Valentine saloon. “What if your horse spooks and runs off with all your supplies?”

Arthur bumped into Albert on the road into town; Arthur looking for a drink to celebrate a job well done, and Albert riding in to rent out a hotel room for the night. After some friendly chatter on the ride in the two had gone to the saloon together for a drink.

“I know I'm not the adventurous type, but I do know how to make a fire.” Albert huffed good naturedly.

“But do you know how to find water, shelter? Do you know good water from bad? Can you hunt?”

“Mr. Morgan, you know I'm not terribly fond of the sport.” Albert cut in.

“Ain't a sport when it's survival on the line,” Arthur countered. “I'm not talking about shooting an animal just for fun, or to show off. I'm talking about finding a rabbit to eat when you're on the brink of starvation.”

“Well…”

“Listen, I understand why you hate trophy hunters. Killing an animal and leaving most of it out to rot is a damn waste. If I hunt something, I use as much as I can. I eat the meat, turn the pelt into something useful, use any part of it I can. Even if it's just a little trinket on my belt. That's the kind of hunting I'm talking about.”

“I suppose I don't have much experience there,” he admitted. “My father took me duck hunting once but it was just sport. He was usually busy drinking with his business partners. I never really paid much attention.”

“Well, now's as good a time as any. ‘Specially if you're gonna be wandering the wilds taking photos of animals.”

~~~~~~

“I-I’m not so sure about this, Mr. Morgan,” Albert stammered as the two men dismounted their horses just east of Twin Stack pass, in the fields south of the oil field. “I really don't think it's necessary.”

“You're the one wandering the backcountry taking photographs of wild animals. You need some survival experience.” Arthur replied. “Shooting bottles out behind the saloon can only get you so far. You need to try on something real.”

"Mr. Morgan I…” Albert stopped walking, nervously rubbing his hands together. Arthur turned to face him. “I don't know if I can do it.”

Arthur softened slightly. He understood Albert, to a point. He remembered vividly when Hosea had taken him hunting for the first time when he was 15. The thought of killing an animal had turned his stomach. He actually threw up after his first downed deer. He had always had a soft spot for animals, and never wanted to see them suffer. Any time he went hunting, even now, he'd kick himself for hours if it wasn't a clean shot, and the animal suffered at his hands.

“First off, please call me Arthur,” he began, stepping toward the man.

“Then please, call me Albert.”

“Alright, Albert,” Arthur chuckled. “I know it ain't easy. You don't want to see the poor animal suffer. You don't want to become like those poachers who waste everything for a trophy.”

“Exactly,” Albert sighed, openly relieved that Arthur understood his hesitancy.

“But we ain't talking about that kind of hunting. We're talking about survival. Catching a rabbit to feed yourself for the night. That's it. It's no different than eating beef or pork. Just more work.”

“I guess I see your point,” Albert relented.

“With any luck you'll never have to hunt for food. But if your horse spooks or you get stranded or for any reason you need to survive, you need to know how to hunt.”

“Alright,” Albert straightened up, steeling himself for the lesson at hand. “Let's go.”

“Good,” Arthur said, patting Albert’s shoulder. “Now you might want to invest in a little varmint rifle, or even just a standard rifle for protection, seeing as you're out trying to photograph predators. But for today, you can use mine.” Arthur pulled out his varmint rifle and handed it to Albert.

The gun looked a little awkward in the photographer’s hands, like he wasn't entirely comfortable holding it. But he and Arthur had done some practice shots before heading out here, so he at least had some familiarity with the weapon.

“Check that it's loaded,” Arthur instructed, and Albert paused, following Arthur's earlier lesson on loading the gun. Knowing he'd emptied it before putting it on his horse, Arthur handed him some ammo to load the gun before Albert could even ask.

“Thank you,” Albert chirped, nodding politely to Arthur as he began loading the gun. “Would you bring something as well?” Albert glanced over at Arthur as he slid the bullets into their place. “In case my shot is bad, will you bring a gun to finish it off so it doesn't suffer?”

“Sure,” Arthur agreed. “I think that's a fine idea.” Arthur slipped his bow and arrow from the saddle. “No point in bringing in another gun and ruining the meat.” He explained.

“Right,” Albert hummed. “If we're going to hunt the animal, we should make sure it's usable.”

“Follow me,” Arthur said, guiding Albert up the hill a little way.

“See these little holes in the hillside?” Arthur asked, pointing to a few small caves in the dirt as they climbed “Entrances to the warren.”

“How do you know they're not badger holes?”

“Too many to be a badger den. Besides the tracks around are rabbit, not badger.” Arthur shrugged. “Come on. We'll get up here on the rocks overlooking the warren and wait.”

Carefully the two men positioned themselves up on the rocks near the top of the hill, looking down over the slope. Arthur crouched down with a sigh, and Albert moved to do the same.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait,” Arthur grunted. “It's cooling off so they'll likely come out to feed as the shadows grow longer. Just need a little patience.”

“Right,” Albert breathed, settling in on the rock on one knee, varmint rifle gripped loosely in one hand.

The two men waited about twenty minutes, neither saying a word. Albert’s knees had grown sore, then moved beyond, to that painful numbness. Despite this he kept still and did his best not to make a sound. Finally his patience was rewarded.

“Oh, look! A rabbit,” Albert whispered. “What a beautiful shot. I should get a picture–”

“That ain't the kind of shooting we're doing today, Albert,” Arthur chuckled in a low whisper, reminding the photographer why they were there. He knocked an arrow in his bow, ready just in case Albert needed the assist.

“Oh. Right, of course.” Albert whispered. He took a deep breath and raised the gun.

“Good, good,” Arthur soothed. “Get it's head right in your sights for a clean kill, wait for it to stop to eat for a moment.” Arthur could feel the man trembling a little beside him, but Albert was focused on the task at hand. “Take a deep breath in, and out. Always shoot on empty lungs.”

Albert took a couple deep breaths to steady his trembling hands. Everything else seemed to go quiet, and as he finished an exhale, he pulled the trigger.

The shot was good, but the rabbit turned it's head at the last second, and the kill wasn't as clean as either men hoped. Arthur quickly followed it with an arrow, ending the animals suffering.

“Damn,” Albert sighed, defeated.

“Don't beat yourself up. It would have been a good shot if it hadn't moved. Unfortunately sometimes that happens. They ain't prone to just sitting still and letting you get the shot,” Arthur assured him, patting his shoulder. “Even if I hadn't been here, you could have ended it's suffering with another shot, or a twist to the neck.”

Albert shuddered at the thought. But deep down he knew Arthur was right. “I never got a shot like that when my father took me hunting,” he noted.

“Well, the kind of hunting your father was doing sounded a lot more like an excuse to get out of the house and go drinking, instead of actually hunting,” Arthur grunted, swinging his bow over his shoulder. “Now let's go get our catch and clean it.” Arthur offered Albert a hand up.

“Oh,” Albert’s face paled. “We're going to skin and butcher it too?”

“Would be a waste to just leave it here,” Arthur pointed out. “It's death should mean something, even if it's only filling the bellies of two fools like us.”

“I suppose you're right.”

“Come on let's set up a camp further up the hill and we'll have some supper.”

~~~~~~

Albert looked rather squeamish as Arthur showed him how to skin and butcher the rabbit. But he watched with rapt attention, following Arthurs every move with his eyes.

“And that's about it for cleaning it,” Arthur said, holding up the skinned and cleaned rabbit by its back legs. “Then all that's left to do is cook it. Could just throw it over the fire, but if you've got some herbs, it makes it a little more palatable. Lucky for us,” Arthur reached into his satchel and pulled out some thyme. “I've got some seasoning.”

“A gourmet campfire meal,” Albert chirped, much to Arthur's amusement. Using some rendered animal fat he rubbed the herbs into the meat before placing it on a crudely constructed spit over the fire.

“Thank you for teaching me,” Albert continued, giving Arthur a small smile. “I know I've been, shall we say, a reluctant student. But I know that it's good for me to know how to do this.”

“Just don't want to hear about you starving in the wilderness,” Arthur grunted as he sat down by the fire. “By dumb luck you've somehow survived enough trouble with the animals you're photographing. I'd like to keep it that way.”

“It wasn't dumb luck, it was with your help.” Albert settled in the dirt across the fire from him.

“I've only helped a couple of times,” Arthur shrugged, pulling out his journal.

“Maybe, but you've helped more than I can say,” Albert mirrored Arthur, retrieving his own notebook and pen to begin scrawling notes from the day.

“Whatever you say,” Arthur shook his head, turning his attention to his journal.

As the rabbit cooked the men spent the time in silence, each writing down the events of the day. Albert noted the animals he saw, the animals he photographed and where he was when he did so. He also notated the spots he visited that had resulted in no wildlife.

Arthur journaled about the job he worked, totalling up the earnings and doing the math of what to provide to the gang. He also tidied up a quick sketch he'd done of the burnt town below Horseshoe Overlook, as well as a chipmunk he drew.

Both men finished up their writing by noting the coincidence of meeting up with the other, and the events that led them to be sharing a campfire out in the Heartlands. Not that either man would know he was included in the other man's writing.

“Rabbit should be about done,” Arthur said, closing his journal and tucking it away.

“Marvelous,” Albert set his notebook aside and pulled out a pair of tin camping plates and forks. “I have a pair of these we can use.”

Arthur took the plates with a grunted thanks, using his knife to carve the meat off the rabbit until the plates had an even helping of rabbit. He handed one plate back to Albert before settling in with his plate, digging in immediately.

Albert picked at the rabbit slowly, seemingly lost in thought as he stared at the sparse meat on his plate. He took a bite or two, slowly, as if tasting it for the first time.

“You ever eaten rabbit before, Albert?” Arthur asked, studying the man.

“Yes,” Albert flashed Arthur a sheepish smile. “Many times. I suppose it's just different when you see the entire process. See it going from a living animal to a meal on your plate is a bit… jarring. Usually I see it already carved at the butchers, or fully cooked on my plate in front of me.”

“I suppose it would be jarring,” Arthur hummed, scratching his chin. “But after all it's just nature. If we didn't eat it, a fox or coyote probably would have.”

“Very true,” Albert sighed. The two men were quiet for a moment, Arthur taking another bite of rabbit while Albert was lost in thought. “I admire you, Arthur.”

Arthur nearly choked on his food, pounding on his chest a few times to correct it's passage to his stomach. He also had to push aside the way his heart skipped a beat. He'd spent too long living the life of the delinquent outlaw cowboy. There's no way Albert meant it like that.

“Why d’you say a fool thing like that?” Arthur huffed.

“Because I do. You have such a high regard for nature. A trait most hunters I've met are sorely lacking. A respect for life that others just don't have.”

Arthur’s face fell slightly. “I really don't.” He huffed, attempting to lighten the mood with a chuckle.

When he braved to look at Albert once more he only saw a knowing half-smile. Did he know who Arthur was? Well, to be fair he hadn't exactly used a cover name. All Albert would have to do is read the paper and he'd know who Arthur was. But if he knew, why hadn't he turned Arthur in?

Albert just shook his head, as if reading Arthur's thoughts. “Respect for animal life, then,” he countered.

Arthur didn't know what to say. Albert was such a gentle, polite man. How could he be sitting here, talking to a known killer, and calling him admirable?

“Guess I got enough blood on my hands,” Arthur shrugged, deflecting the compliment, as usual. “Seen enough suffering without adding any more to it.”

“I think there are too many people in the world who don't care how much blood they spill, human or animal,” Albert remarked. “They lose their humanity.”

“Most days mine is hanging by a thread,” Arthur grumbled, voice full of self loathing.

“I think you've got a stronger grip on your humanity than you think,” Albert set his food aside, attention all on Arthur.

“You… you understand what I do.” Arthur waved his hand, not really wanting to say it. Albert nodded a confirmation. “You've probably seen my name in papers, or on bounty posters. You know I ain't a good man. Battery, robbery… murder. I don't think I could get much worse. I ain't got much humanity left.”

“It's true those are some… high crimes,” Albert relented. “And yet, in talking to you, I see more humanity than I do in the high society crowd. The leaders of the nation are soulless. They're only out for themselves. Wouldn't help an old lady cross the street, let alone random fools they find in the wilderness.”

“You sure you're not an outlaw?” Arthur huffed. “Sound a lot like my mentor. He loves to ramble on about how crooked society is.”

“We both know if never cut it as an outlaw,” Albert snickered. “I'd die on day one. And it wouldn't be to a gun. I'd sooner trip and get trampled.” The two men laughed at that before Albert continued.

“Whatever your reasons for doing the things you do, I don't think you're the monster the papers make you out to be,” Albert explained. “Every time I've met you, you've been nothing but helpful and kind, if a little gruff. You may be a sinner, but aren't we all?”

“I think my sins may be a little greater than yours,” Arthur scoffed.

Albert only shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the greatness of our sins varies by the hands we're dealt. The life we live. It's easy to be good when you're born with a silver spoon. It's harder to be good when you're fighting every day just to survive.”

“You a philosopher now?” Arthur chuckled.

“I've had a lot of time to ponder life's intricacies of late. Seeing nature in all her beauty will do that.” Albert shrugged. “But my point is, I've met you a handful of times now. You've never given me any reason to doubt you. The papers say you're a monster but I consider you… a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes,” Albert affirmed. “A friend, if you'll have me.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment, staring at Albert, trying to decide how to respond. He clearly couldn't respond with his true thoughts on the matter. He wasn't any good at the sappy emotional side of friendship. His friendships usually considered of having each other's backs and teasing each other relentlessly. Maybe the occasional fishing trip.

“You shouldn't have left your food unattended,” Arthur noted, nodding to the tin plate Albert had set down. It was now empty, the bushy tail of a fox disappearing into the bushes behind him. The fox let out it's laughing call as it darted away with what was left of Alberts dinner.

“God damnit all,” Albert huffed, grabbing his plate and glaring after the fox.

“Here. You can have some of mine.”

“No, you eat, I'll be fine.” Albert tried to protest, but Arthur had already halved the meat on his plate and plopped it onto Albert’s.

“That's what friends are for,” Arthur shrugged. It was the best way for him to confirm Albert's statement. They were friends, as odd of a pair as they may have been. Albert grinned, bobbing his head in thank you before digging in to the small amount of rabbit that remained.

“So, what else have you gotten pictures of since I last saw you with the horses?” Arthur asked.

“Oh let's see. Well I did finally get a picture of a coyote after our first encounter,” he hummed. “And then the wolves. But I showed you that one. The horses, um… oh I caught a beautiful shot of some bison rutting in the dirt. And a loon on the river.”

The rest of the evening consisted of the two men swapping stories of their adventures. Albert detailed all the many trials he'd faced trying to complete his project. Arthur in turn told him if the strange things he'd seen on his adventures. The glowing green light over a cabin in the heartlands. The cauldron of grey liquid up in the hills of Ambarino. The strange bones he'd found in, on and around Mount Shann. Just little things, talking long after the moon rose in the sky, until neither man could keep from yawning.

An unlikely friendship, but one that made a huge difference in both men's lives.

#albert mason #arthur morgan #2AM pairing #rdr2 #Albert Mason & Arthur Morgan #Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan #asks #drabbles

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animasola86 · 19 hours

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Writer Interview Game

Thank you for the tag @moongurl95 - what a fun game! Let me ramble about my writing for a bit! :D

When did you start writing?

My earliest memory of writing anything was in elementary school. I went to a Montessori school where you had a few "free" periods before the actual classes, and I used that time mostly to write silly little stories about whatever I was into at that time.

That continued throughout my school life, I always enjoyed writing for school projects, and it really motivated me when the teachers would be surprised at what came out of my head (I was a shy kid, so my only outlet were these stories).

As for fanfiction, I think I started in 2005 when I joined FanFiction.net, and of course it was a Harry Potter fanfic. Several, actually. I even finished at least two long fics back then - an accomplishment I haven't been able to do since then, I guess. Ah well.

What really kickstarted my writing spree was Hogwarts Legacy and how the fandom used to be back in 2023 when it was all fresh and exciting. I've never written so much in my life! So I'm really grateful I can still sit down and write whatever comes to mind.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Hmm. I usually write what I read/read what I write, if that makes sense, but I used to be a big thriller and horror book enthusiast (before the smut took over my brain), so those genres I certainly have yet to explore in my own writings more.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I'm not sure I like to be compared, to be honest. I don't compare myself with anyone, either. And emulating anyone? Hmm. I mean, every single piece of fiction I ever read has a place in my brain, and subconsciously or not, my writing style will have traces of whatever I read last.

And I could name names now, but honestly, I just want to be an author, one day have my own story published, hold it in my own two hands, not to see my name on the cover (because that's actually a terrifying thought), but to know I've made it somehow, made it on the shelf next to all these other authors.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I have a bedroom with a desk and a laptop hooked to a screen and a nice keyboard that makes writing very easy (if the words flow, that is...). Nothing fancy, it's really cluttered too, but it works. I also wrote some of my drabbles on my phone before, but I prefer to write on the pc (autocorrect is a bitch), I need the control!

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Hyperfixation. Very hard to achieve, but when it's there, oh boy, hold me back or I'll write ten oneshots in a day (not really, but it did feel like it at the best times). Once I'm in the process of writing, I also need peace and quiet. I wrote a lot of my pieces early in the morning, right after waking up, even before breakfast, just to get the thoughts out. But I don't usually have a set time to write. If the muse is musing, I'll just write, no matter where and when.

And to muster that muse, I'll either doomscroll through a particular fandom or I read similar stories, sometimes even my own works to get back in the flow of things.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Well, I am a smut writer, I write smut, in various shapes and forms and positions and you know the deal. Does not surprise me at all. Though a year ago, I wouldn't have believed you if you told me I'd become what I am today. I always had smutty thoughts and love and affection were always themes in my writings (see below!) but to write as explicitly as I do now, well, okay, that does surprise me, or it did at first. Now I'm writing about these themes like others write their shopping lists.

What is your reason for writing?

Love. Or lack thereof. I used to be really into psychological or criminal thrillers, and what these types of stories all lacked was love, or relationships, or simply put: feelings, or that bit of fluff between all the killings, you know? So I decided one day to write my own thriller but add a lot of love into it, make love the major theme that drives the crimes so to speak.

Emotions can influence so many things, and I was always reading those stories with these interesting characters and none of them had any connections, or so it felt, and if they had, it was always mentioned in the very back, and I needed details! (I could have tried to find romance thrillers, but instead I took to writing, and I'm not mad!)

Same with my early Harry Potter fanfics. I was always missing real romance in the books, so I made my own stories, put these characters together, smashed their heads against each other and told them to kiss. Worked great. Still works fine.

Apart from my need for romance, I just enjoy thinking up stories, building worlds, creating characters. It's a nice distraction from the real world, and as unhealthy as it may be, I enjoy getting lost in various fantasies. It's helped me a lot over the years.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I'm just happy if I get a comment at all. For someone to not only read and like my writing, but to take the time to share their thoughts? Makes my day every time. Of course I like those comments that go into details, reference the story, ponder over the things I've written. It's really nice to discuss what came out of my head with someone reading it for the first time, gives me a new perspective on things for sure.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Hmm. As someone they like to return to if they're in need of some spicy fics? I don't know, honestly. I hope my readers think good of me, even if I take a long time to come up with new stuff or leave them hanging for a bit. I hope they'll keep coming back, maybe go over my old stuff, enjoy what I already gave them.

I'm okay with being reduced to a smut writer, because that's what I am most of the time, and honestly, I just hope my readers have a good time with my filthy little stories. If, at the end of the day/night, they still remember who wrote that steamy scene, I couldn't be happier.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Juicy details. Writing explicit smut was a challenge at first, but I've conquered it, and now it comes (hehe) so easy for me, I just need to think of a scenario, that tiny bit of necessary plot (which is the hardest part now), and all the puzzle pieces fall together. The challenge is to keep it somewhat diverse, spice it up, not repeat myself (which, in my genre, isn't as easy... you can only do so much with two bodies, right?), which is why I keep diving into various kinks, and oh boy, there are still so many, and I keep learning so much as I surf the very dirty waves of the Internet (until I reach a point where it gets too dark and filthy even for me and I have to go back to reading/writing fluff for a while...).

How do you feel about your own writing?

I enjoy writing, and I do enjoy going back to my older pieces and re-read them, brings me joy to know that *I* was able to write *that*. To be honest, I've never felt uncomfortable sharing my writing, no matter how depraved it's gotten, so, yeah, I feel good about my writing. I enjoy it, and some other people seem to like it too, and that is all that matters to me, to share my joy.

AO3 📌 MASTERLIST

#tag game #writing game #writeblr #smut writer

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pheonix-inside · 3 months

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Patton’s siblings are—bear with me idk how to phrase this—a genius concept? kudos to you for taking the shorts structures and turning them into Missy and Polly! and Heart who I only vaguely remember but it’s really cool that you DID remember and decided to use the character. (oh and Thomas is there too ig /j)

(my g-d autocorrect keeps changing Patton to Payton argh ANYWAYS)

2. Anton Lyre = Liar = Janus + "Janus was raised to be strategic and self-serving" + "Janus got his shapeshifting powers artificially" = Anton Lyre is Janus’s asshole father who experimented on him and probably messed up his childhood beyond repair? or am I deluded? I might be deluded. but I’m pretty sure these 👀 had SOME kind of purpose, so

3. can I know any more about Virgil/Virgil’s backstory or is that way too spoiler-y?

1. Hehe thank you, I can't take full credit for the idea, a lot of my usage of the shorts characters is inspired by @/tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors fics. I absolutely adore them. Lu literally made characters out of Janus' hat and capelet in one AU!!

And I'm definitely gonna be using a lot of characters from shorts, bc how else are our characters gonna have minor villains to fight? Or minor heroes to fanboy over? I really like adding shorts characters, it makes the story feel so full without me having to squeeze my brain for OCs. It's epic.

2. DINGDINGDING!!! While not 100% right, you are definitely on the money!! Anton is indeed Janus' dad, an ex-hero who went into politics after an injury. And he is AWFUL. He found out his son inherited his mimicry powers and decided to exploit it. He didn't do the experiments but uh. He may have let other people do them.

And the worst part is that as much as Janus hates it, and hates his dad, he met Remus because of that mess, so he can't help but almost have a twisted gratefulness for the environments he was forced into.

Also fun fact Anton's full name is Anthony, and he's inspired by the shorts Antagonist.

3. And sure! I'll tell you what Virgil eventually tells the group, before he eventually just gives them the full story. (which actually happens before Jan and Remus show up fun fact. makes it easier if there aren't multiple conflicting character arcs happening at once lol.)

So all that the gang knows is that Virgil ran away from home at some point, and has been getting by on the streets since then. Eventually he also tells them that his parents are dead, but he refuses to elaborate on how or when it happened. He lets slip to Logan that he wasn't a vigilante until after their death. And considering Virgil had been a vigilante for a few years before Roman, that does not paint a pretty picture.

#is that first part me unsubtly subtly trying to promote my favorite fic author? who's to say #teen superhero au #sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders

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martyreasemymind · 8 months

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for the WIP tag game: more on BS please

(because it reminded me of drafting sideways before it had a name and the doc was called BS which obv stood for billy/steve but nevertheless my brain autocorrected it on sight, given the usual acronym, until it came time to post and i realized i couldn't actually name my fic bullshit)

i won't go TOO into this one b/c it's very old and a mess (yes the bs stands for bullshit lol)

this was an original work about a family of shapeshifters trying to care for two of their children who escaped from government captivity/experimentation/military use.

Llena, the younger sister, is traumatized but generally able to function.

Jay, the older brother, yo-yo's between being fragile and being completed dissociated due to his experience with scientists/military forcing transformations and causing him to lose his identity and connection with reality.

the ki'd family had been dysfunctional and bordering on abusive before their abduction, and completely unraveled after. at the beginning of the story there has been a degree of recovery due to the remaining kids being removed and the parents receiving treatment.

the story is told primarily from the perspective of the eldest brother, Coda.

Excerpts:

He felt the anxiety in his gut twist into hate. Like a house fire. The kind you have to douse for hours to really get rid of. To kill.

Arlo stood behind him, watched him dig his forehead into the harsh bark. Wordless.

It was a strange feeling to be seen like this. Flayed open. Like he’d been caught.

When he turned and settled on the ground she joined him. Looking at the stars, he felt her head rest on his shoulder.

“Is there any chance he won’t make it?”

“No. Not unless something catastrophic happens.”

Catastrophe is relative. It could be anything. Five years ago it was Pela breaking a plate.

“Get out of your own head. You’re not helping anyone.”

Nessar stood in the open threshold of the hospital room.

“You probably shouldn’t be hanging out here either.”

Nothing.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You know he can pick up on your stress”

He didn’t like this version of her. Doctor-Aunt. Emotionally detached but close enough to get under his skin.

“Thought you said he’d be fine.”

“Being fine and being not dead are two different things.”

He looked at her. Gave her his best pleading look as a final grab for sympathy.

“It’s not good for you to be here.”

Goddammit.

“Look,”

Her eyes went away from him.

“It’s been a week and he’s doing fine. The hardest part is over”

She shrugged.

“Physically”

Fuck you.

“And I know you wanna be here and look after him but it isn’t healthy for you. Mentally. You should get back to class and get your mind on something else. Or at least try to.”

He turned back to his unconscious brother.

“Have you spoken to either of your parents in the last week?”

He scoffed.

“What? To make me less stressed?”

Nessar’s fingers went to her temples.

“Fine. You all wanna be stubborn shits and refuse to talk to each other, fine. But just think about what you’re leaving him to wake up to.”

He scowled, but rose from his seat when she stepped out.

“Oh.”

Coda sat at the breakfast table. Didn’t look at his father standing in the doorway. Couldn’t.

“Is there something wrong?”

He felt the anger crackle inside of him, the familiar thump of blood in his ears that heralded an outburst.

Communicate. State your feelings.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you.”

He could see his father’s shoulders lean back in shock from the corner of his eye.

“I’m still…”

His mouth twisted into a sour grimace.

Try again.

“I’m still...angry”

His father looked on but Coda didn’t see him. It was easier to pretend he wasn’t there. To pretend he was alone in his room, screwing his eyes shut and whispering threats and promises into the empty space and truly believing that it would hold them forever. That it could.

I’ll kill you

“And I’m angry...that I’m still angry.”

Asil tilted his head. Eyes soft.

“Coda...If this is about me getting my feelings hurt-”

“It’s not. It’s… We need to be together for when-”

His teeth tug into his bottom lip.

“For when he wakes up.”

There was a silence, both considering.

“I understand, and I appreciate you taking that stance,”

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. To his father being calm and rational and compassionate. He still doesn’t.

“But I don’t want you to feel like any anger you have towards me needs to go away just because there’s a bigger issue at hand.”

Tears stung behind his eyes. He hated this, he hated falling apart in front of the person he was always supposed to be better than.

He felt his father make an abortive step forward. The desire, the duty, to stay stoic and quiet and grown ground against the protean need to be comforted. The fist against the open palm.

The chair scraped against the wood floor as he stood up and trudged outside. Don’t run. Not from him.

#god this was FOREVER ago #rip messy prince #answered asks

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hyperfixated-maybe · 7 months

Note

I heard you were learning Spanish!! I'm not so fluent but I guess this will be practice for me too i also have no idea what type of Spanish your learning soo…XP(-dumb Mexican who only uses the slang) I’d be more to happy to answer your questions back in Spanish! And I have no idea where you stand in your knowledge of Spanish 😿

¡Buenas tardes! ¿De donde eres? Yo soy mexicano pero nací en los Estados Unidos con todo los pinche locos JSJSJK

Se no te molesta a contestar esta pregunta, porque quieres aprender español?

¡Muchas gracias por tu tiempo!

-Chicle

YO! This is so exciting! I’m better at reading/comprehending it than writing/speaking. Right now I’m trying to expand my vocab and just practice using it in ways that make sense, lol.

Here, I’ll translate your questions then answer them, trying to use translators as little as possible (I’ll italicize the parts I used a translator for):

“Good afternoon! Where do you live?”

🤨 U tryna dox me? Haha, I’m just joking, soy de Massachusetts.

“I’m Mexican, but I was born in the United States, with the fucking crazy people”

Oh COME ON we’re not that bad… are we???

“If you don’t 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 answering this question, why do you want to learn Spanish?”

I knew that it was if you don’t mind but I had a brain break and couldn’t remember “molesta” for some reason T-T

Anyways, my school had the option to take some classes with an instructor, for free! (I ended up continuing with it after the class ended.) I decided that it would be very useful to know one of the most spoken languages in the world, because I travel a lot. I know it’s in my bio, but I think I might make a post about my favorite places I’ve been to.

“Thank you for your time!”

¡Por supuesto! ¿De qué parte de Mexico eres? I went to Puerto Vallarta a few years ago, I think back in… 2017? 2018 maybe? Before the pandemic. I went for a few weeks and explored around the city and some of the surrounding country. Couldn’t swim in the sea because something happened. A sewage leak I think? It was fun though, (despite the fact that I didn’t know ANY Spanish at the time) and Mexico is a really cool place, it’s definitely on my list of places to visit again.

Typing out anything in Spanish on here is torture, every other word was autocorrected by my phone and I had to go back and fix it lol. >:/ I think I got them all, but sorry if I missed any. (Just read this through to post it, and realized por had been changed to pro, so it’s very likely)

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having-conniptions · 6 months

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This was supposed to be a "highlights from 911 7x04" post but, uh, yeah. Read for yourself.

Obviously, masssssssive spoilers below the cut

Chimney fanboying over Joey

Buck falling over himself trying to get Eddie's attention lmao he reminds me of a bird doing weird intricate mating dances

"So I'm your basketball beard" CHIM I LOVE YOU

The song that's playing while they're playing bball??? That's going on my playlist for sure

"Well, you bucked that up, didn't you?" Mr. Howard Han you are a treasure (also can we make "bucked it up" a saying? As in fucked something up in typical Buck fashion by trying too hard and achieving the exact opposite of your goal?)

"I'm not a 14 year old girl" "So stop acting like one"

"There's no bad blood" "Evan" TOMMY PLEASE I'M GONNA END UP SHIPPING YOU GUYS IF YOU DON'T STOP CALLING HIM THAT

TOMMY TELLING BUCK HOW MUCH CHRISTOPHER LOVES HIM AND THAT EDDIE ISN'T MAD AT HIM AAAAA

BUCK BEING VULNERABLE AND ADMITTING THAT HE WAS JEALOUS OHMYGOD LET'S GO BUDDIE

Tommy wanting to be a part of the 118 family I'M GONNA CRY

why are they standing so close WHY ARE THEY STANDING SO CLOSE WHY IS BUCK FLIRTING WITH TOMMY WHY IS TOMMY FLIRTING BACK HELP

"Cause trying to get your attention has been pretty exhausting" is the "reveal" line that's written to make your stomach drop and that's exactly what it did for me. BUCK WAS TRYING TO GET TOMMY'S ATTENTION??????? THE LOOK IN HIS EYES LIKE HE'S ABOUT TO SMOOCH HIM???????????? HEEEEEEEEELP

I PAUSED RIGHT WHEN TOMMY KISSED BUCK I AM SCREEEAAAMINGGGGGG THE FINGERS ON HIS CHIN?????? THE WAY THEY SET UP THE TENSION IN THIS SCENE WITH THE CLOSENESS AND TOMMY'S GAZE FLICKING TO BUCK'S LIPS A FEW SECONDS EARLIER AND BUCK'S SMILE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD BI BUCK BI BUCK BI BUCK AAAAAAAAAAAAA

THIS IS LIKE WHEN DESTIEL WENT CANON BUT BETTER

THEY'RE SETTING THINGS UP FOR BUDDIE Buck is gonna be with Tommy for a bit & then at some point it's not gonna work out anymore and then Eddie is gonna be RIGHT THERE and hopefully single and BOOM that's how wie get Buddie

Good things happen in kitchens.

"It was better than fake mouth static" OH BUCK MY SWEET CHILD

"I got a shift" NOOOO I WANTED THEM TO MAKE OUT NOOO

"I am free." THE DOUBLE MEANING BUCK IS LITERALLY FREE NOW HOLY SHIT BI BUCK BI BUCK BI BUCK

Buck being too stunned to speak aaaaa

Also the fact that thanks to this episode my phone has started autocorrecting "Buck" to "BUCK" lmaoooo

Guysguysguysguys that scene was sooooo good I am livingggggg

As someone who's been a shipper for a long time and now mostly watches BL bc I was so frustrated with even the most popular ships never becoming canon, I finally know what vindication feels like. I mean, we don't have canon Buddie yet, but we just saw Buck kissing a man on screen. So there's literally no reason why they can't make Buddie canon. The biggest hurdle ("omg how will the general audience react to a mlm main character??") has been JUMPED with UTMOST GRACE and I am LIVINGGGGGG

Soooo yeah that definitely did not devolve into deranged screaming, huh? Anyways, my brain is going brrrrrrrr right now so don't talk to me unless it's about Buck

#it makes so much sense for the character as well #911 spoilers #911 abc #evan buckley #911 buddie

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luthied · 6 months

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I didnt get much done today but I did make a few dishes. I tried a new recipe that was pretty good! It is a variation on Marry Me chicken but I unintentionally changed the recipe as I went.

It was definitely on purpose and not because my brain went on autocorrect mode. Really.

I also made an old family favorite that I am not allowed to eat very often. More like once every 5 years. It is made with a large amount of bacon which, as someone without a gallbladder, does bad things to me. It was worth it though.

It wasnt a hugely active day but it was a fun one and that is all that matters!

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wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 1 year

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Yaaaayyyy okay!!!

Honestly I realized this only a little while ago but he very honestly gives me C-3PO energy when there’s any stressful situation going on. Just going around wildly squawking and most of the time not helping in any way, just complaining XD He is also THE biggest snitch you’ve ever seen in your life. If he thinks he can get something out of telling someone something about someone else, then he absolutely will.

A lot of the people at the castle have been there for a long time, so they’re honestly used to his two-faced behavior and are desensitized to it. He gets away with a lot of it until Mads shows up and calls him out for his bs (And!!! That causes issues at first because they all know they’ve let him get away with being sneaky or rude or abusing his power or just being stupidly petty and hurting people that way, so when Mads is like “hey wtf” they have a hard time facing it because they feel guilty for essentially letting him do that). Which is why they hate each other- NGyro tried his hardest to turn NFenton against Mads when he first showed up. Which definitely worked at first? But over time NFenton just found that nagging very annoying. NGyro and Mads openly know they hate each other, but they can’t do much to the other without getting in trouble so it’s just turned into pettily trying to one-up each other for eternity sldlflglhlf Though, speaking to that ‘they let him get away with it’ thing it really comes down to NFenton and Blue did, and everyone else wasn’t in a high enough position to do so. I’m sure Scrooge and Beakley tried, but either NGyro (metaphorically-) beat them into submission or NFenton just went on ignoring everything (and Blue was too scared of doing anything about it). NFenton doesn’t want to get rid of him because he does his job well and they can work well together (+he has a tad of a soft spot for him after they had to rely on each other to survive being in such close proximity to NScrooge), and NGyro’s- reported- offenses are usually small enough to ignore anyway. Essentially, everyone in the castle knows he’s for the most part trash (help my phone autocorrected that to trans I’m cackling) but nobody does anything about it anymore.

Ig in most of the stories I have he’s really just the supporting advisor character, again the C-3PO coming in and being the one with brain cells but being written off as annoying for having them slslfgllhltr Yeah he had a vendetta against Mads but also he was probably right for warning them all away from him because Mads was an assassin from a kingdom they’d been on the brink of war with for years now and he was the only one who was going to the king to say “hey maybe we should wait a little longer before you let him sleep with you????”. Yeah he didn’t want his position threatened by some random new person but yknow said random new person had also destroyed a garden and nearly the throne room by just having emotions and then was immediately promoted to a position directly below the king (though anything he did to Blue after they were recruited and proved themself was inexcusable). So yeah he’s two-faced but between him and NFenton he usually has the most braincells and that’s why he’s advisor XD Essentially he’s the nicest person on the outside but actually is like canon Gyro with -10 of his character growth sldlflgglhlh which I suppose is the point

I doooooont think I have anything concrete on his relationship with Gyro yet, because I still have no idea how I want that to go. I might be leaning toward them being brothers because there might be a space to bring that up in Over My Head, but we’ll see.

#:0000 totally down to answering more questions if you want them #EEEEE thanks for letting me ramble #gyro gearloose #nega gyro gearloose #nega gyro #negaverse gyro gearloose #negaverse gyro #madfen royalty au #dt17 #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #mad ducktor

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anonbinaryweirdo · 1 year

Text

Ella's gone forever now so guess what I'm doing

stella: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

×-×-×

oliver: That was so hot, stella.

oliver: I'm so in love with you.

×-×-×

oliver, sweating: stella, there’s something I need to ask you-

stella: Finally! You’re proposing!

oliver: How’d you know?

stella: oliver, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

stella: I even picked it up once.

×-×-×

oliver, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy.

stella: I will short out the language centre of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

×-×-×

oliver: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

stella: AS ENEMIES?!

oliver:

×-×-×

oliver: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?

stella: Are you calling me short?

oliver: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

×-×-×

oliver: stella is playing hard to get.

oliver: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

×-×-×

oliver: My hands are cold.

stella: Here, let me hold them.

oliver: My lips are cold too.

stella: *covers oliver's mouth with their hand*

×-×-×

oliver: Stay foxy.

stella: Die lonely.

×-×-×

oliver: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

stella: It was autocorrect.

oliver: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

stella: Yes.

×-×-×

stella, talking about oliver: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

×-×-×

stella: Wow, oliver, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

oliver: We literally slept together yesterday.

stella: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

×-×-×

oliver: Get your hand off my shield!

stella: There's like a million other shields.

oliver: Take that one, it has a flower on it. Girls like flowers.

stella: *hits oliver with the shield* Oops! Now this one has blood on it.

×-×-×

oliver, barging in: Syphilis!

stella:

oliver:

stella: Pardon?

×-×-×

oliver: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

stella: This is a lie.

stella: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

stella: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

×-×-×

oliver: Are we fighting or flirting?

stella: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

oliver: Your point?

×-×-×

*at a zoo*

oliver: What are they in for?

stella: oliver, this isn't prison.

oliver: So they can leave?

stella: No, but-

oliver, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

×-×-×

*oliver is crying after a breakup*

stella: There there, oliver.

oliver, still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

stella: Great question—

×-×-×

oliver: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.

stella: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.

oliver: I said within reason, stella. How about I murder that guy?

stella: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?

oliver: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

×-×-×

stella: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

oliver: Oh. We're going out?

stella: Wh...

×-×-×

oliver: Just be yourself. Say something nice.

stella: Which one? I can't do both.

×-×-×

oliver: I know every song to ever exist it doesn't matter if it's from the past, present or the future.

stella: Oh yeah? Then continue this.

stella: I don't cook I don't clean-

oliver: So let me tell you how I got this ring.

oliver & stella: .....

oliver & stella: GOBBLE ME, SWALLOW ME-

×-×-×

oliver: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

stella: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

oliver: I—

oliver: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

×-×-×

oliver: Talk dirty to me, baby~

stella: The dishes.

oliver: Wh-

stella: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

×-×-×

stella: When I die I want oliver to lower me into my grave so they can let me down one last time.

×-×-×

stella: Wow, they really hate us.

oliver: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic.

stella: But we’re not gay, oliver.

oliver:

stella:

oliver: We’re not?

×-×-×

stella: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

oliver: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

stella: But you’re always acting stupid?

oliver: ...

oliver: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

×-×-×

oliver: *Hugs stella from behind*

oliver: *Tucks stella's hair behind their ear*

oliver, whispering: Eat all the frosted animal crackers again and they'll never find your body.

×-×-×

stella: I am the left brain, I am the left brain. "I work really hard until my inevitable death" brain. You've got a job to do, you better do it right and the right way is with the left brain's might.

oliver: I LIKE OREOS AND PUSSY-

×-×-×

oliver: Bonjour, stella. Voulez–vous coucher avec moi?

stella: No, I don't want to sleep with you.

oliver: Is that what that means? Oh, man, I had a really gross tennis instructor.

×-×-×

stella: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

oliver: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

×-×-×

oliver: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

stella: What baby?

oliver, crying a bit: Me.

×-×-×

stella: Quick! You must come with me! Your in great danger!

oliver: Why?!

stella: Because I’ll kill you if you don’t.

×-×-×

oliver: stella, what do you call people you go out with but don’t try to sleep with?

stella: ...People?

×-×-×

#all of these could go either way its insane #live laugh love stelliver #🗨️ incorrect quotes !

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magpies-gold · 1 year

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I attempted to order a couple of shirts and tarot card packs from Welcome to Night Vale because yes, I’ve gotten back on that bullshit again - I’m back up to 2016 and listening to it on my walks to work, which functions about as well as a cup of coffee to wake me up, let me tell you.

In hindsight, I should have known that box would be cursed. It’s Night Vale.

If you enjoy long tumbles down several flights of stairs, read on.

It started innocently enough. I ordered and remembered during checkout that oh yeah. I’m going to Spokane at the end of the month. And I’m in Canada. There’s a good chance it’ll be a little slow to get here and the arrival time might be while I’m away. Okee doke. Work address it is. DHL eCommerce usually turns into Canada Post and Canada Post does a daily delivery to our front door, where my whole department is located. If it looks like it’ll happen during my vacation, I’ll just tell my co-workers to watch for it. Easy pease.

Time passes. My box clambers across the US to the border.

Hurdle Number One: You owe duty fees! announces my tracking app. Check your email to pay. :D This is in the morning on my way to work, less than a week out from my trip.

I do. No email. I check junk, I refresh, I squint at time stamps. I scour their page for links. I think “Don’t they usually either send a letter after delivery or just demand cash at the door?” But this has all the indications that I have to pay now or it’ll be sent back. Exception. Held for payment. I am stupid and obsess over this while walking to work, listening to Night Vale with half an ear and having to rewind Cecil because my brain is occupied. I nearly get run over by a bicycle and it’s coincidentally ridden by a co-worker. He comments that I look especially unhinged today. He’s right. I keep plugging away trying to solve the labyrinthine maze that is DHL’s customer service department.

My tracking number doesn’t work in any of the Help Me boxes. The chat bot doesn’t know what a duty fee is. It finally barfs out a phone number. That’ll work. I pray it’s not a robot on the other end and continue to work.

While waiting for the kettle to heat up on my break I take a quick spin outside with my phone to call customer service.

To my briefly pleasant surprise, the wait on hold is less than five minutes and it is, in fact, a pleasant human voice on the other end. The conversation is quick “Didn’t get the email.” “Junk mail?” “Nope, nothing.” “You can wait until it’s delivered by Canada Post and pay then.” “This really looks like it’s being held, though…” “It should still go through but otherwise I have an email for you.” “You can’t like… transfer me?” “No. Just email and they’ll resend the instructions.”

Labyrinthine!

An ambulance blares by. I wince. I also have no pen. Uh. Speaker phone, apologies for the traffic noises, and frantic tapping into my Notes app while cursing autocorrect. The email is cryptic and long but I get it written down. Thanks, g’bye.

For the record, once I sent the email, things went smoothly. It worked. They resent the email, I paid the whopping $12, and then my tracking updated to say it would continue on to me. Whew. Good. I await the Canada Post tracking number.

Hurdle Number Two: This is where the package started mutating, I’m sure. A Canada Post tracking number appears!

…. and then an Intelcom tracking number appears.

And then my DHL original tracking number duplicates itself saying it’s being sent back to the states? But the original one is still on its way to me… How did my box become at least three boxes?

I blink a few times and just… track them all to see what’s going to happen.

At this point I’ve got to leave for Spokane so I just ask my co-workers to keep an eye out and I leave it up to the fates.

Canada Post never budged. Nothing happened. The duplicate DHL package did move, and eventually returned all the way back to the sender. I don’t know what that was to this day. The Intelcom package identified itself as coming my way with a little email and a link to add delivery instructions and so I thought “You. You are the real one. Found you.” I know Intelcom delivers on weekends and I don’t want to inconvenience anyone and this has started to get to where I don’t want to leave any details up to chance, and so in every instruction box I can find, I note that it’s a business address, give the hours, and the times we’re open. Please deliver to reception. On weekdays. Please.

I once again give it up to the fates and enjoy my weekend.

Hurdle Number Four: Intelcom is Jared, age 19, who never learned how to read. On Sunday morning, the final day of Mysterium, on what is a long weekend in Canada because of Canada Day on the 1st, I get a happy little email.

Package delivered!

….

How.

I open the email. I scroll down. There’s a photo. Of my box.

On the lawn.

Outside an obvious office, smack dab in the middle of a three day weekend, beside a street that harbours half the city’s traffic.

A safe location, they say.

A safe location.

The same way that a toddler on the train tracks is in a safe location. Certainly!

And I am in another country.

I make a noise that startled all thee cats in our friend’s house.

My co-workers are heroes. I thankfully have my supervisor’s cell number and she actually checks her phone, unlike me. She knew about the box. I send her the photo and just “Those absolute MAD LADS. Heeeeeeelp!”

By sheer luck another co-worker was not out of town on that glorious warm weekend and was able to swing by and rescue my box.

I enjoy the last day of the convention with a slight eye twitch.

Finally … I get home. I go back to work. I retrieve my hard earned box. Finally! I don’t open it at work. I carry it home. Whatever. It’s in my hands now and I’m going to enjoy opening it. I go the long way to meet my boyfriend at his work and then we go back to our abode.

We talk about the box adventure. We laugh about it. We both decide that Friday would be a good day to wear our new shirts. It’s going to be great.

At home we plunk it down. Tim gets a knife. He opens it.

He blinks.

What?

Um, he says.

Oh no.

And I look over his shoulder…. and I don’t see shirts. Or cards. I see…

Sleep masks. Sleep masks in fancy plastic boxes all neatly tucked together. They’ve got a sea creature on ‘em.

My box has mutated into someone’s fuckin’ Manta Sleep order. My box has escaped. My box has fled and framed an innocent bystander for its crimes. We got the wrong man, boys!

And I swear I can just about hear Cecil narrating this whole thing if I listen really, really hard.

It’s a three part tragedy. One of the shirts I wanted is out of print now. I contacted support and they offered me my pick of any others in its place, which was nice. Thank you Lucid John, that is quite a name. I paid customs fees and probably will again on box two, but such is the way.

And I think I lost a part of my soul there. Maybe that’s what was in the mystery third tracking number.

Basically if anyone in the world finds where the fuck my Night Vale shit went, could you send it home? I’ll trade you some sleep masks.

They’ve got a sea creature on ‘em.

And be careful when ordering from Night Vale.

#welcome to night vale #topatoco #dhl #package woes #my mail went to hell #it’s in the mud #still in the mud

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beanies-in-the-clouds · 8 months

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✩ Pinned post ✩

Hi! Beanie here! I’m an 18-year-old autistic artist and writer who dreams too big and refuses to grow up.

You can call me Beanie (or Charlie if I know you) and I use they/them pronouns!

I have a book series underway! It will likely take years to finish, seeing as there are five installments currently planned, but please feel free to ask me about my characters! I love to ramble about them!