#Sentences Someday

[mareenavee]

Sentences Someday

(Or Short Snippet Someday. Or Six-Sentence Sunday.) (I have no concept of time or titles.)

Tagged by the amazing @throughtrialbyfire! Tagging @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @thequeenofthewinter, @gilgamish, @archangelsunited, @polypolymorph, @kookaburra1701, @dirty-bosmer, @wildhexe, @orfeoarte and @miraakulous-cloud-district!! And you. Yes. Your tag is invisible, but still there. Tag me back so I can read! Here is a tiny snippet from Chapter 29 of The World on Our Shoulders. (Soggy with Emotions!Teldryn again.)

Small cw for reflection on past alcohol/substance abuse.

Teldryn sighed, a headache blooming from grinding his teeth as he allowed the stress to continue building in his neck and jaw. The thing was, [drinking] never really did fix a single thing. Or he wouldn’t keep ending up back at square one, never able to move forward and never able to turn back time no matter how hard he tried. Turning his brain into a mazte-soaked rag would not actually fix the root of the problem. Problems, really. He’d lost count of exactly how many over the last handful of decades. Centuries. Geldis would have the number, though. He stared down at his hands. Gods, he wanted to change. He had been right there at the precipice, that day in the Netch when he’d told the truth about who he was and [Nyenna had] accepted him for it. Sobbed about it, if he remembered right. Because she realized she wasn’t actually alone, and, for once, neither was he. He could have a purpose. But, like a s’wit, he’d fallen in — Nope. He felt the fracture as he shoved the word down again. It would not do to keep dwelling. But the cracks were letting all the water out. It was so exhausting to be this empty, this hollow. That, and it was getting hard to see past it all, to figure out if he could let whatever this was settle into something resembling normal again. It’s never been normal, and you know it.

[aingeal98]

Something about older Jason looking at the child version of himself, the innocent victim, and feeling the need to defend and avenge him the way no one else will. They'll call him reckless and try to pin the blame for his death on some unique failure of his personality, the problem isn't Robin the problem is he was just a bad fit for Robin! And then older Jason coming back to life and spits on their twisted grief. Fuck you, that innocent child deserved more. You took his memory and ruined it to make yourselves feel better. If no one will give him justice then Jason will take it himself no matter who he has to kill to get there. It's the only way he can move forward.

Something about older Cass looking at this child version of herself, this innocent who has no idea what she was doing when she was tricked into killing, and finding her irredeemable. She will forgive everyone for everything if they need a second chance but she cannot forgive that innocent child. She spends ten years wanting that child to die for their sin, a standard she holds no one else to. And in the end she does have to die. She can never forgive that child until the price has been paid and the guilty, tormented, suicidal mess of a girl is dead and never coming back. Only then can Cass live on. Only then can she smile without feeling the weight of her kill on her back. If no one will give that child the justice they deserve then she will have to do it herself. It's the only way she can move forward.

[egophiliac]

Where can you play ride kamens? It looks fun looking at your blog but idk where to play

it'll doesn't start until the 30th, but there's some pre-release episodes/character bits that are scattered around the website and twitter! (the links to pre-reg/download are also on the website :D)

honestly I'm really enjoying it just based off of the pre-release stuff, these characters look like they're going to be exactly that blend of ridiculous and emotionally constipated that hits me so right.

[cutestkilla]

Happy time-has-lost-all-meaning-because-my-kids-are-somehow-still-on-summer-vacation Sunday, and thanks for the tags today @blackberrysummerblog @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch and

@ivelovedhimthroughworse, I'm excited to read your shares! And also to everyone who keeps tagging me in week after week even though I haven't shared in months.

I've been working on Ch 6 of Hiding Out in the Open for a not insignificant chunk of time, but I've either been too busy doing that or just feeling like it's too rough to share. Until today. (So convenient that I feel like it’s ready to share since I’m posting it tomorrow for my dearest @artsyunderstudy's birthday ❤️😂.)

Please join me for our irregularly scheduled Baz spiral which I think might(?) technically be six sentences:

Snow’s kissing my neck now, working his way along my throat in a way that turns my insides to jelly. So naturally, it’s the perfect time for Father’s voice to join the cursed chorus of doubts in my head. Even though he seemed resigned when I called last week to break the news that actually I would be abandoning the hallowed halls of Oxford for the unwashed masses of the LSE in the autumn—thank you for that Daphne—he still managed to forward one brand new objection I can’t seem to completely set aside. “Your aunt tells me you’ve been…seeing someone” —(faithless hag)—“and while I certainly hope you have better judgement than to do this because of a”—he’d pointedly cleared his throat at this point—“romantic entanglement, it remains my duty as your father to warn you. You cannot pin your hopes and dreams on the fickle affections of a twenty-year-old boy”—(yes, ambiguously referring to a twenty-year-old boy who could also be me is the closest my father has ever come to acknowledging my sexuality)—“because while it may feel like it’s forever right now, believe me when I tell you that young love very rarely lasts. Basil—please don’t throw it all away over some silly summer fling that’ll be over before Samhain.”

Tags and hellos for all under the cut, and since Sunday is basically over please consider this a tag in for Wednesday when I may also miraculously share something (or not because I'm taking my kids to a fair).

@hushed-chorus @whatevertheweather @emeryhall @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @aristocratic-otter

@bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @skeedelvee @thewholelemon @monbons

@fatalfangirl @whogaveyoupermission @captain-aralias @j-nipper-95 @iamamythologicalcreature

@raenestee @ileadacharmedlife @onepintobean @martsonmars @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@angelsfalling16 @best--dress @run-for-chamo-miles @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ic3-que3n

@larkral @letraspal @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello

@nightimedreamersworld @orange-peony @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @noblecorgi

@stitchyqueer @technetiumai @that-disabled-princess @theearlgreymage @urban-sith

@valeffelees @youarenevertooold @cosmicalart @wellbelesbian @alexalexinii

@forabeatofadrum @supercutedinosaurs @theimpossibledemon

[moooosh]

ok but what if ezra returns to the rebellion wearing pieces of an unfamiliar uniform (he only kept some of it, wouldn’t be caught dead in the whole thing again, imagine matching with vanto)

what if he curses in a language no one understands (vah’nya was a great teacher)

what if he stands at attention during briefings (ar’alani hated for him to slouch)

what if he looks over his right shoulder after suggesting a plan (he always stood on thrawn’s left)

what if he’s overcome with grief for people he’ll never see again, and fear for the thought that they were the only ones who ever needed him

what if he’s worried that his only use was to guide those little skywalkers the best he could

and what if he thinks he has no place in the rebellion anymore

and what if he can’t share this with anyone because the man he ate breakfast with every day for nearly a decade and the man he teased with the words “good day” and the man he wishes he could talk to just one more time is the same man who terrorized this rebellion for years

what if ezra is a man who perpetually allows people to slip through his fingers for he is man who is haunted by loss and tied to grief

what if he was a boy trapped on a star destroyer with his greatest enemy, and what if he lifted than enemy back to his feet

[smokeys-house]

Since the dawn of formalized armed combat there's been dudes selling their own brand of bullshit martial arts and marketing it as hidden or superior, like dueling treatises that involve the use and technique of various non weapons/uncommon "weapons," or like 80s VHS combat tutorials for divorced men with pent up aggression, it's not a new thing per se. But.

There's this guy I'm aware of who advertises "flexible tools" as superior EDC self defense. What does he mean by this? Well, to put it simply, a bit of rope with a metal bit at the end. Usually it's a round knob but lately he's been selling his little grappling hook doodads that are small enough to fit in your hand, and boy howdy some of the shit he claims they're good for truly boggles the mind.

Now, I'm no expert in the field of armed combat, but I am generally experienced and well versed in a variety of armed and unarmed combat. I know that sounds like tooting my own horn but really I'm just autistic about historical combat. Anyway there's a LOT of very good reasons why flexible weapons were never popular outside of a few small or strange examples, most of which are not... very clear on the use case scenario of such and are more given as a "wouldn't that be cool" type of example for displays of martial prowess.

Regardless, it does not take an expert to know that swinging a little metal C shape on the end of some paracord at an attacker is going to do little to nothing. Even if you confirm the hit, it's not buying you any distance or stopping power or giving you mechanical advantage over your opponent, and pain compliance is entirely reliant on whether or not you manage to somehow grappling hook a rib or something.

ALSO, consider that accessing or drawing a hook on a string from wherever you're keeping it is going to be near impossible to do in a combat scenario. Good luck and hope it doesn't get tangled lol also have fun unspooling it. He also shows off a few slashes with the lil hook before he's unspooled it to buy time but. Brother that is not how this works. That's getting you no where and maybe even getting u killed for escalating the situation with a weapon.

BEHOLD, THE ONLY ENEMY SUITABLE FOR FELLING USING A HOOK ON A STRING:

🐟 🐠 🎣 🐡

Do your research and training if you plan on carrying a weapon of any kind, don't trust social media self defense gurus.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

i like how you can take a look into a person's collection of favourites, accumulated from over the years, and immediately understand where they come from, the shaping of their character as well as their personality. i havent read any kafka in years, not since school actually, but i took a glimpse of the first paragraphs of metamorphosis (for reasons) and yeah . i . i understand . i understand completely . i have perceived myself

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

literally just posting out of nowhere for six sentence sunday to inspire myself to find a moment to work on this. sorry, Simon's texts don't have his name but I'm sure y'all can deduce

[laurapetrie]

She kneeled down, weeping a good pace, and then she said, "Mr. Kyngston, shall I die without justice?" And I said, the poorest subject the Kyng hath, hath justice. And there with she laughed. - William Kingston writes to Thomas Cromwell the day after Anne's arrival in the Tower (May 3, 1536)

[tabswrites]

Six Sentence Someday

Tagged a few days ago by @writingrosesonneptune here!

Tagging: @space-writes @acertainmoshke @mister-writes @kaylinalexanderbooks @ahungeringknife

I have enough written in TFE to share a bit, so here’s a little out of context something 👀

“Six times we have traded in secrets and food, and you’ve never doubted me before.” Her eyes found him again, searching for weakness in his resolve. “I told you that my people do not enter this forest.”

He stared into the yellow flames, unbothered by the smoke that made his eyes water. “Yes, but you’ve never told me why I should believe that.”

“Why, the Wailing Willow, of course.”

TFE tag list: @cilly-the-writer @writernopal (please ask to be +/-)

[piratekane]

wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wipwip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip

You're terrible.

Impatience is for the Devil, child. And you are his most impatient creature. Another one of Sister Frances’ charming epithets Wrapped in a blanket that she’s sure feels like raw steel wool, helpless to the whims of nuns who can’t stand her ,and a best friend who tolerates more than she’s worth, Ava has two weapons: her eyes and her mouth. She decides to break out the eyes. She bats them a few times, lets them water just a little. Beatrice’s eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t you dare, Ava Silva.” Okay, her mouth. “Bea,” she says softly. “I’m not asking for much.” “You’re asking for me to write a letter to the enlistment office, requesting you be considered for an experimental program that aims to produce super soldiers.” Beatrice’s mouth thins into a line. “That is… much.” “It’ll get thrown out.” “Then why try?” “Because I have to.” The words come out of her like a fountain erupting. She blinks, the tears in her eyes not manufactured this time.  She wishes she could move closer, pick up Beatrice’s hand in hers— she’s wondered for a long time if Beatrice’s hands still feel like they did when they were seven and running through the streets avoiding older boys looking to cause trouble and Beatrice’s parents ire. She can remember them, soft as the softest coat in Ava’s mom’s closet, and how small they were. Now her hands are bigger, silver slivers across her knuckles that Ava only sees when Beatrice lifts her hands to tuck the blanket a little higher around Ava’s shoulders. But she can’t. She may never again. Dr. Salvius’ program is her shot in the dark.

[snowyfrostshadows]

Script Change my beloved

[gideonisms]

I am so tired of having anxiety. Idk if y'all know this but it's a real bummer. A downer even

[bmpmp3]

wait sorry i just remembered the hakuouki opening and ending theme song collection cd releases... when your otome game has enough theme songs across all its re-releases and spinoffs to fill up two separate 2 disc cd music collections you KNOW you really got the skyrim of otome games <3

[a-strange-inkling]

Or Six Sentence Someday I suppose:

He can feel her warmth, hear her breathing, she’s there. She’s still there.

But, it’s not enough.

“Chrissy? Chrissy? Wake up! I don’t like this! Wake up!”

His fingers dig into her shoulder, shaking, begging her to come back. But she’s not there… She lifts off the ground. He stares in horror and disbelief.

She’s floating.

He can’t do this.

“Chrissy?”

“Yes?”

He inhales slow and deep.

“Can I… can I… um touch you? Jesus Christ—I don’t mean like…” Fuck. He closes his eyes tight. “Can I hold your… Just your hand or something so I know… I don’t think I can sleep if I don’t know you’re…”

His breath hitches in his throat as Chrissy slowly turns into him, resting her head between his shoulder and chest, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. She presses against his side, her hand finding his, holding it over his chest.

He stares into the darkness, rigid as his mind tries to catch up with what is happening.

That… that works.

“Is-is this okay?” He feels more than he hears her whisper, her pillowy lower lip grazing his skin.

He prays she can’t feel how fast his heart is racing beneath his ribcage.

“Yeah,” he replies, releasing a long held breath, feeling her body heat pool into every corner of him. “Okay.”

[abyssalmermaiden]

dangerous company you keep, little songbird

(fully rendered version of this drawing)