Lovelocked - ultimate unfinished story framework accent core plus r
#6 of JulieLovelock - Main Story TESTS
lool how tf do you even begin to describe a hot mess like this
Ok explanation time.
This is quite literally the entire unfinished script of Julie Lovelock. I don't know if I'll ever grow a pair or claw enough time out my eternally busy schedule to finish this, but I did make a promise to make a story one day, and this is the best you may get lmao
there are absolutely gaps in this and timeline issues but man who cares yall keep up with me for the art not the stories
It's like 5 in the morning rn and i just copy pasted this into the box and typed this. yall have fun nao
Chapter 1. Storyboard. - The past. Her love of drawing.
Open on shot of Young Julie reading her first comic. Ghost Rider. Had to hound her parents to get it cause it looked "so freakin' cool." The start of her comic book addiction. A conversation not audible happens in the background except one word. Julie. Julie. Julie? JULIE!
"wuh, what?"
It's Anon.
"You ok? You we're freaking out. In your sleep again. Sorry. Sounded like another nigtmare."
"Oh shit... Uh, thanks man."
"No problem. Wanna talk about it?"
"Uh, yeah. Alright. It was just the dream about me in the car again. Reading."
"That one always gets you."
"Yeah. What time is it?"
"Around 8:40. I'm gonna get started on brekky. Eggs sound good? Tea?"
"Amazing actually. Thanks."
Anon gets up. He's wearing nothin sides' his boxers. Julie sneaks a peek at his ass. C'mon. It's right there. Who wouldn't?
*Catcall*
"Jesus Jules what is this? The 40's?"
"Well, if I see a prime hunk of man meat I'm gonna make it clear that I've got the hots."
Anon, light chuckle.
*I sometimes wonder if I'm still in recovery. Still stuck on that damned island, having the most vivid nightmare of my entire damn life. If this is just another fever dream.*
He walks out and leaves Julie to her own thoughts. She doesn't like being alone with her own thoughts. Rolls over into back. Hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Sigh.
*Gotta get up. Can't lie around all day.*
She gets up. Sports Bra. Panties. We're in the bedroom/office. Stretch. First stop Bathroom. Does her beeswax. Multiple panels of hallway to show passing of time, last one is Julie walking through to living room and kitchen.
*Smells amazing. He's even making bacon. How does Anon do it?*
Living room shot. Anon's wearing a shirt. Next to him is her plate cause it's stacked high and has her favroite tea next to it.
"Uh, Locks?"
"Yeah?"
"You're still wearing your eyepatch."
"What? Oh damn. Huh. That better?"
"Beautiful."
Chapter 2. Sketch Layer. - The day to day life of one Julie Lovelock. Drawing becomes more serious for her. Bullying.
Chapter 3. Lineart. - Anon wants to do something nice for Halloween. He volunteers at the Children's Hospital to get candy for em. Nick Fury costume for Julie. Anon's Ghost Rider cosplay. (Street shot of them walking. Filled with /hmofa/ references.) First date at a con. How they met. Bad memories in hospitals. Dumb kids make a dig at her scar. Gets to her.
A party at Anne-Marie and Darius' gig.
Anon and Anne meet, they shoot the shit; Anne knows Anon is perfect for Julie, but she needs to know if Julie's upheld her part of the bargain.
"What do you mean you haven't told him!"
"I just haven't!"
"Bullshit girl. Honest to god bullshit. I already know how you're acting around him.
I'm not gonna tell him when shit's finally going my way! He hasn't' asked me a single question about my eye and I'm perfectly ok with that!
A simple ribbing. He's thinks it's a joke, and she def. doesn't take it that way.
Chapter 4. Base Color - An argument. The worst case scenario, in ANY scenario. She gets mad. Blows up at Anon. Goes for a REAL low blow. She doesn't mean it. He doesn't know.
She uses the note.
Scared she's gonna fuck things up more for herself if she says things in person.
>>I need you.
Anon.
I'm writing this just in case I ever screw up real bad. Like, /really/ fuck it up. I'm a jackass. I'm maybe too foolhardy to say it's true to your face but I'm dead serious.
I'm a total jackass. I'm too much of a jackass to realize what I've got here. An apartment. A "somewhat" steady source of income doing what I love. A wonderful boyfriend who I swear I don't deserve.
I'm writing this after you asked me to move in with you. This is the happiest I've felt in a long damn time. I'm kinda jittery, but god I'm ready. I'm writhing this though, because I know who I am. I know one day I'm just gonna be a vindictive shithead and hurt you.
God. Just. Christ. Anon. I need you. I know I've royally fucked it up if I've busted this note out. I'm sorry. Just, please. Bottom of my heart. I swear. I'm sorry for whatever future Julie did and I swear to god I'll invent a time machine to knock her lights out if she's fucked it up. If she's giving you the cold shoulder I swear its because she's scared she's gonna say something stupid and fuck it up even more. Just... Give her time. I'm a damn hothead and have a bad habit of pouring gas on myself. (If you think this is a jab about my burn I'll rip your nuts off from the past.)
Please Anon. Give her a chance. I honestly don't know what she's done but if you're reading this she knows she fucked up and is seriously freaking out. If you gotta let her down, break it off, anything; just... Don't dance around it. I'm sorry. If I somehow slipped and fell back into my old habits just leave. I'm not dragging you down with me in some effort to hang on to what I deserve to lose. You're so much better than me and it's not even funny.
From the one person too dumb to realize that this isn't a real apology,
Julie A. Lovelock.
Chapter 5. Shading. - A real apology. Cuddles. Realizes that she hasn't told Anon anything about her past. The truth. The Burn. The Dark Ages. Scared to absolute death she's gonna slip and fucking ruin EVERYTHING.
>>The Dark Ages.
How'd she explain it that time? "Addiction is something you never realize you got until you're craving what you lost." Yeah. That's it.
The "Dark Ages" is Julie's worst day. Week. Month. 3 years. Prescription, opiate-based painkillers' and easy access to a virtually untouched, and unchecked, liquor cabinet is just a cocktail recipe for disaster.
The scars throbbed. The bandages itched. The burn girl's addicted now.
Didn't help her case that it was just too damn easy to get a refill on the pills. She bet back then she could have walked up to any doctor in a 30 mile radius, said her burns hurt, and they'd be finishing the final touches on a refill before she took the bandages off.
One night. All it took was one night and this whole house of cards came tumbling down. She just started breathing slower, slower, and slower; until... Boom. Hits the kitchen floor and she isn't breathing. Ambulance comes, she's put on a breathing machine cause thank the lord her parents know CPR.
Hospital. Tests. So many tests.
Results?
Almost near irreversible liver damage. They also discovered that she had far too much painkillers inside her system. She needed to get clean, and fast. Otherwise its more medication, no medication, and/or death.
>>Detox.
"The softest, greenest hell around", she called it. David-Ray Recovery Hospital and Resort. A drug rehab center for exclusively for anthros.
>Only wolves and bears were on staff. The nicest, meanest motherfuckers you could find next to a wave pool and free shiatsu massage. A 4 month all expenses paid trip to the middle of tropical bumfuck nowhere. The itinerary was full of fun activities one could participate in to try and forget about the simple fact you were here because you were addicted to something and needed to get off of it pronto. From an olympic sized swimming pool to an indoor basketball court and gym, you could really do anything. But... She never really did any of that. If there's ever one thing she remembers from that damned pleasure was just how much she drew.
"Sorry honeybuns. No electronics until the final week. If you wanna draw, we have pens, pastels, colored pencils, and plenty of loose leaf printer paper for ya!"
"They had some of the best mint ice cream around, and Dr. Pepper on tap. I love that hellhole with every fiber of my being, and I honestly wish it burned down some days."
"The handlers there- we were supposed to call em helpers or nurses, but everybody called em handlers- were some of the most real people youd ever meet. They told you the truth no matter how much it hurt and did it with a smile on their face. Helped that thay could legally manhandle us too. But nobody wanted ot start nothing with em cause they were here to help. Every last one I asked said that they just loved helping people get back on their feet; that some people needed, and maybe deserved, a little help getting that second chance."
>It's hard to put into scale just how much she drew. Day in. Day out. From sunrise to sundown. Through meals, progress meetings, and bathroom breaks. She drew. In the beginning the handlers tried to get her to do some activites. "C'mon Julie! Dont' you wanna swim today?" "Hey Ms. Lovelock. Real nice day outside. Don't wanna miss it staying in here." When they realized that she wasnt budging, they tried to get her to draw the things around her. People, the sights, instead of just superheroes and supervillains. She wasnt all about it in the beginning, but if you hound someone enough, drop enough hints, they'll crack. And boy fuckin howdy she cracked. I bet she drew enough portraits of Jakub the sous chef and his stew alone to make an animated movie of of it.
Chapter 6. Final Draft. - Anon's always here for her. Talk about recovery. Realize this is just another step in recovery. A support system is a step she missed. Moving on. A reconfirmation that Anon's the anchor she needs.
Epilogue. Submission.
>>An ending.
"Hey Anon, you wanna get married?"
>Spit-take. Coughing, hacking, gapsing.
>what'd you say jules?
"You wanna get married? I mean, its not that big of a question. Just, y'know. Wanna tie the knot? We've been at this whole relationship thing for a while now. How long again?"
>4 years.
"Yeah. 4 years. Fuck it. Lets do it.
I still get those cravings. That need. My mind and body wishing to just feel numb again. Some days, it gets bad. Unbearable. Like a flashback sequence to detox. Just a swig, and the pain goes away. A couple more pills, I wonder how these ones will feel. It hurts. Teetering on the edge of a cliff, yet I think I only see a bridge to relief.
Anon. He always drags me back. So close, every damned time. He pulls me away from that damned pit and gives me a hit some a different drug. Love. So cheesy, and yet so damned descriptive; I feel high when he cuddles me. When he scratches behind my ears its like I melt right into his grace. Those damned hands. No nails, no gouging, only pleasure and pets.
>"What are you doing?"
"Drawing."
>"At 4 in the morning? How didn't I hear you walk by and get snacks?"
"Bobcat Anon. Notoriously good at stalking."
>"Jeez. Well, what are ya drawing?"
>I take her seat and she's dropped onto my lap.
"Well, I have 2 commissions due near the end of the week, but now? Just doodling. Sketches I can pick and choose for bigger pieces."
>I start rubbing her back and shoulder.
"Yeah I just need to get these ideas on paper. Little lower? Oh yeah...."
>I start rubbing and kneading. Back gets the kneading, Neck gets the rubs. One step closer.
Yeah... Right there... Oh that's good... Oh man....
>I start giving her scratches and pets. her true weakness.
oh... jeezus anon... just... dont stop... christ....
>She starts leaning into me, getting seriously comfortable in my lap. She's panting.
just... *hmfn* oh man.... love you anon... golden hands, *uhnf* you have golden hands.... love you...
>leaning ever harder now. Is she falling asleep?
need this.... i.. really love you... just... love... you...
>And there it is. Out like a light. Better put her to bed. Gotta save her work too.
>Bobcat in arms, straight to bed. She's starting to mumble again.
oh... anon...
>What?
just... lower? yes there... oh~
>oh jeez. oh man oh jeez. is she really-
faster anon, go faster...
>Oh lord. She is. Speed this up Anonymous. Don't want her creaming herself in your arms. That'd be EXTRA HARD to explain.