#also yes this is about Rat and Megs don't @ me!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lord-valery-mimes]

The Phantom of Manhattan - A Painful Recap

When I read a brief bulleted list showcasing all the craziest things in this book, I knew I had to read it. I was 42% of the way through it at the time I wrote this paragraph, and good grief, it's all more ridiculous and terrible than I could have ever imagined. So of course I decided that I should write a full recap of the whole horrible  thing. Strap yourselves in tight folks. This is a bumpy one.

The book opens with Madame Giry narrating the story, even though she's supposedly drugged up and in horrible pain on her deathbed. Those French women are made of strong stuff. She confesses to rescuing Erik from the freak show where he was imprisoned (so that's where the 2004 Phantom film got that idea). She then brings him back to her flat that she shares with a seven year old Meg, and proceeds to nurse him back to health. Because yes, any working single mom with a young daughter at home would of course be totally down with bringing a strange, disfigured, mentally unstable teenage boy into their home. She proceeds to talk about how she eventually smuggled Erik into the opera, and how he was able to build himself a home and life in the cellars there. Because that makes sense. “Just stick him down there. It’ll be fine!”

His crimes at the opera are glossed over entirely. Joseph Buquet wasn't murdered, he committed suicide, don’tcha know? And Piangi? Oh that was just an unfortunate accident (simply an accident!), Erik only wanted to keep him quiet! His only crime was FALLING IN LOVE. Jesus Fucking Christ. Madame Giry dies, but not before paying someone to go to NY, find Erik, and give him a letter.

Chapter two and suddenly it's Erik himself who is telling his story. About how Madame Giry stuck him on a boat after the events of the musical, and how he spent four weeks crossing the Atlantic. Also how he managed to jump overboard in the middle of winter, and swim FOR AN HOUR without getting hypothermia and dying, just so he could bypass immigration. He finally drags himself ashore on Coney Island, where, conveniently enough, there is an entire gang of disfigured, down-on-their-luck types sitting around a fire, and they don't give a rat’s ass that some bedraggled guy with a messed up face just came out of the ocean like the most disappointing mermaid.

This group makes a living cleaning fish, but Erik is SO smart, and SO clever, that he quickly finds a way to amass a small fortune and make his way up in the world. He even gets a sidekick, a random teenaged boy named Darius who we find out was a sex worker, which in this story makes him the literal embodiment of evil. With Darius as the face and Erik as the brain, they scheme and thieve their way to fortune. Yay, America!

I almost forgot the best part. Because their scheming and thieving requires Erik to sometimes be out and about in the daylight, he has someone make him a latex clown mask (something that Google informs me wouldn't be invented for another twenty-odd years), and he hits the town dressed up as a literal clown. Just… close your eyes and picture the Phantom, full clown face, complete with red nose and oversized shoes, casually strutting around Coney Island. This is no angel of music!

Before you know it, Erik is building the tallest skyscraper in all of New York and designing himself a cushy penthouse suite at the top so he can take off his clown mask and relax in peace away from prying eyes. If he's this clever and good at making money, why didn't he do the same in Paris and live somewhere other than in the dank and dark basement of the Opera Populaire? I’m just sayin’…

Chapter three and we’re shifted to yet ANOTHER character. The poor bastard who’s been tasked with Madame Giry’s dying wish: to deliver her letter to Erik. This man is SO angry, and SO French, and SO unhappy to be in NY where there is no good food or wine, and I honestly wish the whole story had been about him instead. He can't find this Erik Mulheim, even though he was assured that it would be so EASY, given the weird name, and the fact that he was told to look for a guy with a messed up face. Frenchy is about ready to give up and go back to France when…

Chapter four! Yet ANOTHER narrator, this time a reporter for a newspaper, who is just trying to enjoy a hot fudge sundae, when he happens upon our angry Frenchman. The reporter makes the mistake of wishing him a badly pronounced “Bon-jewer Mon-sewer”, and instead of recoiling with disgust at this butchering of his native tongue as any good Frenchman would, the man starts lamenting in French to the unsuspecting reporter, who instead of politely excusing himself so he can eat his sundae in peace, rushes to find someone who can translate for this clearly overwhelmed guy. Somehow the reporter manages to find someone who not only speaks French, but who also has a guess as-to who this mysterious Erik Mulheim might be. Could it be the mysterious man who just built that big-ass skyscraper? The guy who no one ever sees but is a multi-millionaire and an extraordinary entrepreneur?

Now the reporter and Frenchy are buds, and they head to the skyscraper together, because the reporter is hoping he could be the first person to unmask this mysterious character! What a scoop! Unfortunately Darius intercepts them both, and insists on taking the letter to its owner. Frenchy is just happy he can finally leave, and get back home where his wife's ample buttocks are waiting for him to snuggle into. Yes, he literally says that.

Then stuff starts to get REALLY weird. The narrator shifts to Darius, who is literally high as fuck and having a conversation with a god. I’m not joking. Darius is worried because Erik has suddenly gone opera crazy, paying millions of dollars to have an opera house built, and staying up all night writing music. WHAT COULD HE BE UP TO? Darius is worried that this might affect his chances of inheriting Erik’s wealth someday. The god tells him to chill out, but is also like, “But kill him if you think you gotta.” Alright then. Nothing at all ominous about that.

This gimmick of every chapter being told by a different narrator is jarring, but I’m willing to deal with it, if we get to hear more from Gaylord Spriggs, who writes an enthusiastic column about gossip around New York opera. You see, when the Met refused to give Erik a private box, he went, “Oh yeah? Well I’ll make a whole new Opera house then! So there!” And not only is he building his own opera, he's paying insane amounts of money for the two greatest sopranos alive to come and sing there. SUCK IT MET! And one of them is none other than Christine de Chagny. Where have I heard that name before?

Then things get really boring as an old Irish priest tells his entire life story to Pierre: Christine and Raoul's son. Do we really need to know all this? Apparently when a fellow cast member of the opera suddenly keeled over of a heart attack during a performance, the Irish priest was summoned to deliver his last rights, and Christine was all, “Hey, wanna tutor my son?” I mean, I guess I can think of weirder ways to get a job.

Another chapter, and another newspaper report, by yet another reporter, this one discussing Christine's arrival with much pomp and detail. Christine reveals that it was the sheer BEAUTY of the brand new opera by an “unknown American composer” that convinced her to come all the way to New York. She also reveals that the opera is set during the American Civil War, something that I’m sure Erik, a French guy with no formal education, knows loads about. I can't wait to hear more about this.

The reporter sees the need to mention that he sees a strange masked figure standing on top of a warehouse, something that I’m sure a reporter covering the arrival of an opera star would totally do. A big to-do is also made about the fact that there is a *gasp* puddle of slush stopping Christine from getting in her carriage, when suddenly a reporter swoops down with a cape that he flings over the puddle, and crisis averted! I always thought the “throwing a coat over a puddle” thing was so stupid since cloth absorbs water, and the second she steps on it, the puddle will just seep right through and get on her shoes anyway. But whatever, I’m not the one writing this stupid story.

We're back to our first reporter, the one who attempted to get in the penthouse to meet the elusive Phantom millionaire. It looks like we'll be hearing a lot from him, so his name is Charlie Bloom. Charlie describes Christine as “big bagels in the opera world”, and I need to find a way to work that into everyday conversation now. Unsurprisingly, he is the reporter who covers the puddle with the cloak that was given to him by a “mysterious person” in the crowd. My god, who could that mysterious person have been? Apparently his puddle act was so GALLANT that of course Christine invites him for an interview.

We’re quickly introduced to Meg Giry who is now lame in one knee and weirdly also Christine’s maid. This is basically all we see or hear from her in this story. At least it's better treatment than she gets in Love Never Dies.

A bellboy comes up at the same time as Charlie with a gift for Pierre, Christine’s son, and it’s our old friend the barrel organ monkey music box. Pierre just starts tearing the thing open with his clever little hands, clearly to hammer home how STRANGE and DIFFERENT he is. When he turns the musical disk inside the monkey over, it starts playing Masquerade and Christine loses it. She demands to be taken to the store that made the music box. Because that… makes sense?

Back to Erik who’s heart is simply aflame after seeing Christine, even from far away. He drops this gem of a description on us, “the face and smile to break a block of granite clean in two.” Sir, what does that even mean? You are describing a sledgehammer. He reiterates that he gave the reporter his old opera cloak to cover the slush puddle, you know, just in case we weren’t able to connect the dots on our own. Clearly the author thinks that anybody who would bother to read this book must be a moron. Sadly, I think he was correct, because reading it is certainly one of my biggest life regrets now.

Erik tells us of the letter he received from Madame Giry, wherein she retells the story of how she apparently met Raoul as a young man, and saw him get his dick or balls (Madame Giry is a LADY so she doesn’t go into detail) shot off after saving a girl from a ruffian with a gun. Madame Giry lets the Phantom know this, because apparently since Raoul has zero dick or balls, that must mean that Christine’s child is the Phantom’s? So like… they had sex and he just never mentioned this in all his narration? Did they go in a hot tub together and an errant sperm just… Swam its way in? Like… what happened here? Erik never explicitly states that they did the nasty together, so we’re left kind of guessing. Is Pierre an immaculate conception?? You know that if they’d done the deed together, Erik would NOT have shut up about it, and would probably have written a full aria just about Christine’s vagina. I refuse to believe that they just had normal sex and then went their separate ways because it makes no sense. But then NOTHING has made sense in this book so far.

Meg’s turn to narrate now. Please Meg, help me make some sense of this madness. She retells the whole story of the music box monkey. WE JUST READ THIS TWO CHAPTERS AGO! Meg just repeats verbatim the end of the musical, how the Phantom abducts Christine and there is an implication that he either raped her, or she “couldn’t resist” him. Ewww. That’s all I will say about that. That, and men need to stop writing stories with gross consent issues.

Yet another narrator, someone named Taffy Jones. I DON’T CARE ABOUT THESE PEOPLE. He is the Official Funmaster of Steeplechase Park on Coney Island. Ok, maybe I care about him a little. He’s been instructed to open the park for Christine to let her see the toy shop and the Hall of Mirrors. Gee, I wonder what could be waiting for her in there? Of course it’s Erik who begs Christine to stay with him, but she refuses. She loves Raoul! Erik demands she give him his son right there and then. She’s all, “Gimme five years,” meanwhile Erik’s creepy sidekick is eavesdropping. Christine leaves and Erik is all, “Five years? Pfft. He’s mine and I will TAKE him.” No bueno, Erik.

It’s the Irish priest’s turn to narrate now, and he’s talking to god. Literally. Like we read what God responds to him as a dialogue. Who wrote this garbage? Oh right, Frederick Forsyth, esteemed British novelist. The priest confesses to lusting after Christine and God is all, “Of course, she is beautiful.” Ew! WTF, God? Apparently he was lusting after her while he was listening to her confession, so this is all kinds of fucked up. Then he tells God her confession and God just casually drops that there are lots of gods. Man, this book is wild and misogynistic.

This next chapter is by everyone’s fave, Gaylord Spriggs. He reviews the Phantom's new opera that he wrote for Christine, which is basically a cross between Gone With the Wind and… Well… The Phantom of the Opera. The lead tenor mysteriously starts croaking during intermission, and an “unknown” understudy takes his place for the second half of the opera. I suppose at least the poor croaking tenor was spared being strangled. RIP Piangi.

Another newspaper column, this time by Amy Fontaine. I really am so weary of this multi-narrator format. If this Frederick Forsyth guy hadn't already been a celebrated author, and the Phantom musical hadn't been such a big hit, this overblown fanfic would never have made it past any publisher with more than one brain cell.

Anyway, Amy Fontaine is reviewing the post-opera party for a social column, and the funniest bit is that Christine meets not just one, but TWO United States presidents as Teddy Roosevelt himself shows up along with his niece and future president FDR. Irving Berlin also shows up and it's like the author was trying to cram in as many historical time period big names as he could as Easter eggs, but instead of being subtle and clever like an Easter egg should be, these are neon signs that Frederick Forsyth is shoving in your face while he screams at you.

Chapter sixteen is a literal lecture. It's like the author just keeps making this book as torturous for the reader as he can. And it takes place in the future too, around the end of WWII. You know I started writing this review because I thought it might be funny, but now I am full of regrets and pain. But onward I soldier. If it stops anyone else from having to read this brain enema of a book, it will be worth it.

Anyhow, this lecture is being given by none other than Charlie Bloom, who after years of being a reporter, seeing wars and the Holocaust, has apparently seen NOTHING so tragic as the shit that's about to go down between Christine and Erik. He recaps almost the whole book again, including the part we just heard about in the last chapter where he tosses in yet another celebrity just for good measure, since two US presidents apparently weren't enough. He mentions that Buffalo Bill was there, and just for my own entertainment I’m going to imagine it was Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. I’ll bet Christine could sing a killer version of Goodbye Horses.

Anyhow, Charlie stole a note that Erik slipped to Christine at the party. In the note Erik begs her to let him say goodbye to his son one last time, and to meet him at Battery Park. With this inside info, Charlie’s able to warn Raoul and the priest nanny guy when Christine and Pierre suddenly are missing. Charlie also apparently wrote something on his cuff in Latin that he didn't understand back when he heard Darius shout something on Coney Island. Charlie is wearing that EXACT cuff again, and of course the priest knows Latin, and it apparently says something like “the son must die!” It's a convoluted mess of Deus ex machina that any third grader could have improved upon.

Charlie, Raoul, and the priest all rush to the park and Charlie is literally like, “I’ve gotta explain this all to you in SLOW MOTION”. They get there just in time to see Pierre run to his mother's arms just as Darius fires a pistol at him. Surprise, surprise, he winds up shooting Christine instead. Gee, I didn't see that coming.

Somehow Erik has managed to add crack-shot to all the life skills he’s acquired since his opera days, as he pulls out his own pistol, takes one shot and hits Darius square in the center of his forehead.

Christine is literally dying in her son's arms and she's all, “That's not really your dad, see that freak in the mask? THAT'S your dad. Sorry ‘bout it!” Then she croaks. Not even exaggerating. The next line is literally, “Then she died.” Way to give your kid more PTSD, Christine.

Piling on the PTSD, Raoul decides to tell Pierre “Yep, I’m not your real dad, I’m gonna take your dead mom back to Paris. You are now a man, so come with me to bury your dead mom, or stay with your freaky-masked real dad.”

Charlie’s narration takes a weird detour mid-scene where he suddenly talks about going to interview the priest. Apparently the priest decided to move to the slums of the lower-east side after all of this nonsense happens? I mean it's not the weirdest thing that's happened so far in this book, so I’m not sure why this detail irritates me so much, but it does. But apparently he told Charlie that when all this shit was going down, as he prayed while Christine was dying, he heard the Phantom's soul screaming like an albatross. I take back all my negativity, I love this book now.

Pierre goes to Erik and removes his REAL father’s hat and mask. Charlie says that he's seen drowned corpses and bodies in every manner and state of decomposition, but never has he seen a face like THIS. Despite the face though, of COURSE Pierre decides to completely forget about the guy who's raised him as his son his entire life, and go live with this stranger with the fucked-up face,  in a country thousands of miles away from the one home he’s ever known. Because what thirteen year old wouldn't do that?

Erik never wore his mask again. The end.

I thought nothing could top Love Never Dies for sheer inanity, but this certainly takes the cake and drops a whole chandelier on it. RIP Christine, and my entire brain.

[rebelmeg]

15 Questions, 15 People

I was tagged by @asamandra, who is a delightful bean!

Nickname: Meg, MegMeg, Meggle, Nutmeg, Butmeg, and hubby likes to call me Trixie (because that would be my stripper name, he started using it as a joke to make me giggle, and now he can't stop using it.)

Sign: Libra

Height: 5'3"ish, which is around 161 cm

Last Thing I Googled: inches to centimeter conversion (the one before that was Indian embroidery, since I'm reading a book that features that quite heavily.)

Song stuck in my head: Boom Boom by Vengaboys

Number of followers: ....I don't know? Don't really care to find out either, honestly. I'm here to carefully cultivate my trash heap, so if anyone else wants to enjoy my trash heap, by all means.

Amount of sleep: Typically average around 4 hours at a time, as my body naturally wakes up then. Which is why I sleep half at night, half during the day. Yes, people are rude about it. Often.

Dream job: Trophy wife, hands down. Trust fund baby would be a nice second.

Wearing: a dark purple shirt with "Me crazy? I should get down off this unicorn and slap you" in rainbow block letters on the front. I made it!

Movie/Book that summarizes you: Is there a book or movie about an average 30-something wife/writer/mom that likes food, is a pack rat, and loves Tony Stark? Because I wouldn't read/watch that, all the fun stuff happens in her head.

Favorite song: Can't pick a #1 fave, but my most recent obsession is with sea shanties. The Last Shanty by Nathan Evans has been on repeat for several days!

Favorite Instrument: Geez, no idea. I like several of them for specific and/or similar reasons. Clarinets for good bouncy music, pianos and cellos do really pretty and/or melancholy so well, mandolins make me feel all !!! inside, ukeleles are a different, calmer bouncy.

Aesthetic: Uh, probably glitter. Colorful glitter.

Favorite authors: JK Rowling, JR Ward, Julia Quinn, Lois Lowry

Random Fun Fact: I have a scar on my knuckle shaped like a J! I named it Jarvis, and it doesn't even have a cool story. (I also thought this was asking for like... a generic random fun fact for a second and I sat here trying to decide between an animal fun fact or something else.)

I'm not in a tagging mood, so if you see this and would like to play too, by all means, consider yourself tagged!

[tiny-candies-and-cookies]

here is the fic i was writing last night! it’s over 1000 words i am so proud of myself hehe

words: 1449

Summary: a little thief sneaks into a dragons hoard and get’s more than they bargained for.

           The little thief snuck through the halls of the abandoned castle, all they had to do was get to the main hall, steal some gold, and then get out of there, that was it.

           … and not get caught.

           They had been forewarned about the big dragon that lived in the abandoned castle, and how he was protective of his hoard. But the little thief wasn’t worried, they’d been doing this for years, they didn’t get caught then they wouldn’t get caught this time.

           They turned a corner and found the entrance to the main hall, there were gold coins spilling out from the door, the thief smiled and silently ran over. Before picking any of them up they heard a sound coming from the main hall, peeking in, they saw him.

           Lounging in the hoard of coins, jewels, crowns, and jewelry, was a large, fat red and gold dragon. Luckily, he was fast asleep, snoring loudly, and moving a little subconsciously.

           The little thief moved back from the doorway and pulled out a bag and started putting the coins into it as gently and quietly as they could, didn’t need to wake up the dragon.

They got a good chunk of change in their bag when again they looked back into the main hall, at the dragon. They lingered their gaze on his gut, probably full of all the previous knights and thieves that had come in and either gotten caught or were foolish enough to try and defeat the dragon. Must be quite a few of them, his gut was huge, and moved up and down gently as the dragon breathed.

They had been staring for a bit now, and didn’t notice where they were stepping, they stepped on a chalice that was laying on it’s side and as it rolled out from their foot they fell hard into the pile of coins, themselves gasping loudly, and the coin pile making a loud CLANG as they hit it face first.

The little thief got up quickly, far too quickly and far too loudly. They looked back at the dragon…

only to lock eyes with him.

The little thief turned to run but the dragon moved too fast for them, and they were suddenly plucked up by their tail. Dangling from their tail in the dragons claws they were brought into the main hall, and were face to face with the big dragon, his fiery eyes burning holes into theirs. The dragon resumed his position in his pile, falling back with a CLANK, he looked the little thief over, still holding them by their tail.

The little thief squirmed and cowered a little as they were looked over, they wanted to think of other possibilities for their fate but judging by the dragon’s fat gut right under them, there wasn’t much left to the imagination for them.

The little thief supposed they’d just have to hope he wasn’t hungry at this moment.

ggGGRGRGROOOOORROORRWWLLlll…

hm! Well shit!

The little thief’s face warmed at that sound, embarrassed at that was what they were going to be reduced to, a grumble in his gut and nothing more.

They eyes were suddenly taken from his gut to his face as they heard him chuckle deeply.

“Aren’t you adorable? You can’t take your eyes off me.”

Goodness he could talk to? They weren’t warned about that.

The little thief squeaked and covered their burning face with their hands, now extra embarrassed, how long had they been staring?

The dragon chuckled again, and the adjusted them in his claws to be grasped gently by their whole body, their arms free to move, however.

“no need to be shy,” the little thief peeked through their fingers. “I’m not going to do anything to you yet.”

Yet was the keyword there, he could fully decide to just pop them in his mouth and have it be done with. They settled on uncovering their face and placing their tiny hands on his large claw that wrapped around them, and looked up at him, his eyes seemed less dangerous now.

“now,” He began, “I’d like your name.” the little thief swallowed nervously.

“Rat, sir.”

“Sir? How quaint.” He laughed and placed his thumb on top of their head, squishing them a little bit. “should have known it would have been little vermin crawling around in my hoard.” He smirked, showing off his sharp teeth, and whatever remark Rat had was thrown out the window when they saw them.

“Secondly,” Rat pulled themselves from staring at his fangs when he spoke again. “I’d like to know what you were crawling around in here for.” He licked his lips. “just the treasure, or were you thinking about taking me on? You’re quite small for a warrior, you know.”

Rat huffed and frown at that last comment, they were a great warrior! But nevertheless, answered his question.

“just the treasure sir, was hoping to get in and out. That didn’t really work out, as you can see.”

“No, no it didn’t did it?” he teased, he brought them closer to his face. “Now, a final thing,” he purred in his throat, though to Rat it sounded more like a growl. “Give me a good reason to, and I’ll let you go, otherwise,” he paused to lick their face, making Rat splutter. “it’s down the hatch with you~”

Rat wiped their face and racked their mind for a good reason, mostly coming up blank.

“W-well you see sir, I-I’m, I’m uh,” think of something Rat. “I’m too small! I won’t even be filling!” they nodded in agreement with themselves. “I’m too small to even be worth eating, s-so you might as well let me go and you can get back to napping, hoarding or, or. Or WHATEVER you do all day!”

And they had given him a reason! And now they just had to wait for judgement.

The dragon hummed and seemed to think it over, and then loudly sighed.

“Alright, that is a good reason,” he said, Rat sighed in relief. “but not good enough.” Rat quickly switched back to panicking.

The dragon slapped them into his mouth, and Rat scrambled for purchase in the slick new environment. He closed his mouth so they couldn’t crawl out, and proceeded to toss them around in his mouth, tasting them and soaking them up for the journey.

Inside Rat was disoriented and all wet, yelping every time that tongue of his moved them around quickly, at least he was careful with those fangs of his.

The dragon tilted his head back, but didn’t swallow, as a final tease he opened his mouth, giving Rat a look at the room’s ceiling. Rat reached for the outside, a little hopeful they were being let go after all, only to be swallowed down in one go.

Rat whimpered as they were squeezed further into the dragon, and they soon found themselves in a large pocket, up to their waist in bright goo; it was emptier in here than they thought it would ‘ve been. Rat felt the dragon pat at them through his gut and then rest his hand on top of them, they squirmed against it angrily.

The dragon chuckled, which felt weird as it vibrated all around Rat’s small body.

“No need to be so upset little vermin, you’ll be fine.”

Rat punched the wall.

“fine? FINE?! YOU ATE ME!” They kicked this time. “That doesn’t end FINE!”

The little assault they were doing in him wasn’t hurting, they were too small to hurt him even from in there, so he wasn’t bothered by it. He simply pressed a bit hard onto them to stop them, and while they squirmed a bit, they did stop trying to hurt him.

“You’ll be fine,” He repeated. “You’ll go, but you’ll come back unharmed, perfectly fine.”

Come back? What did he mean by that? Rat figured they’d just let it happen, if he wasn’t lying and they’d be fine, then they supposed it wouldn’t be too bad.

“will it hurt?” they asked shyly, they didn’t want it to. The Dragon stopped pressing in on them and began rubbing his thumb over them gently.

“No, it’ll just feel like falling asleep, I promise.”

Speaking of sleep, the dragon yawned, stretching a little before settling back, keeping his hand on top of Rat. Rat themselves curled up, not exactly sleepy but willing to rest now.

Maybe once they where back, if they came back, maybe they’d sneak back into the castle and pay him another visit. He wasn’t all that bad for a dragon that ate people.

…And maybe try and get those coins again, they kinda needed them.

[writer-ish]

✨ Get to know your mutuals!! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. when you’re done, send this to 10 people if you want to get to know them better!! 🌼💕

Hiiiii lovely Meg! Oh gosh, 5 things about me eh… alright, let's see.

1.) I was a prominent writer in another fandom before this one and I laugh when I see people say that the Open Heart fandom is the craziest because...… lol oh man.

2.) I turned 35 this year! YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD FOR FANDOM. Also, please validate me and tell me 35 is not old.

3.) I'm married. Yes, he knows about my internet life. Yes, he's very supportive. Yes, there are many, MANY characteristics in my favourite fandom LIs that can also be found in my husband. Yes, I refuse to look more deeply into this.

4.) I'm in the midst of writing an original novel (well, converting an old story into something original, but—yeah) except don't ask me how it's coming along, because ugh.

5.) My favourite colour is any shade of purple.

I don't want to send asks into people's inboxes, but I will tag 10 people because why the hell not. Here ya go: @starryeyedrookie , @genevievemd , @lsvdw-blog , @maurine07 , @jamespotterthefirst , @lem-20 , @monsoonblooms12 , @ejunkiet , @coldshrugs , @bex-la-get , @impossible-rat-babies , @ellstersmash , @rickety-goose , @jerzwriter , @weakzen , @winterkeys , @solarisrenbeth , @magebastard ok that’s way more than 10 but ignore me if you want and also sorry if we aren’t mutuals I forget to pay attention to that stuff??? in which case you can super ignore me. 👋 ❤️