#ami bein petty

[grelleswife]

Mey Rin’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Oh, she should’ve known this was a terrible idea, yes she should!

“U-um…um…eh…”

Twitching fingertips drummed together in an erratic rhythm as she dithered on the spot, chest tightening til she could scarcely draw a breath, let alone offer a coherent reply.

But Sebastian gently grasped her by the shoulders, no hint of condemnation in his tender, reassuring gaze.

“Forgive me for alarming you, my love. You’ve done nothing wrong. Amy pointed it out to me a few minutes ago, and I was just curious, that’s all.”

Though blushing furiously, the maid relaxed beneath his touch, and breathing came easy once again.

“Y-yes…that was me, it was,” she squeaked. “Y’see…I wanted…to…”

Sebastian waited patiently while Mey Rin fought to get out the words which had lodged themselves in the back of her throat.

“I wanted to surprise you!” she burst out at last. “On account of it bein’ our first Christmas together…s-since we started courtin’, I mean…”

A flush appeared on the butler’s alabaster visage, along with a shy—and utterly delighted—smile.

However, the maid shook her head in bitter self-reproach.

“But I can’t help but feel torn up inside about it, because Agni isn’t here with us. I know he an’ Prince Soma celebrate different holidays than us, they do, but…not havin’ him be part of it…it just doesn’t feel right, somehow. Like I’m leavin’ him out,” she whispered dejectedly.

Of course, the London townhouse wasn’t that far away from the manor, but it might as well have been the moon for how keenly the separation gnawed at Mey Rin. Although she and Sebastian regularly corresponded with their beloved khansama when young master required them to be here at the country estate, mere words could never substitute for the ripple of laughter shared around afternoon tea, or the silverly gleam the moonlight cast upon a lover’s skin.

Or the sweet, ephemeral warmth of a kiss.

The maid’s vision swam, and she desperately blinked back the tears which stung at her eyes.

“Oh, Mey…” Sebastian murmured.

His right hand moved up to softly cup her cheek.

“I know you miss him terribly. As do I. But Agni wouldn’t want to see you wracked with guilt over something that’s beyond your control. Besides…who’s to say that we might not reunite before the year is out?”

The maid sniffled, “W-what d’you mean?”

“Remember his last letter? Prince Soma’s been complaining—quite vociferously, from what I gathered reading between the lines—about how long it’s been since he last saw the young master. He’d seize the flimsiest pretense for a visit, and both our little lord’s birthday and the Christmas festivities afford him ample justification to do so.”

Mey Rin’s face brightened as she caught Sebastian’s line of reasoning.

“An’ if Soma does come callin’, he’ll bring Agni in tow, yes he will!”

“Precisely right,” smiled the butler. “And what better place to give our sunshine a proper welcome than under the mistletoe?”

We’ll ravish him, yes we will, thought Mey Rin, coloring slightly as she imagined herself reclaiming Agni’s lips in the heat of a passion which neither time nor distance could ever subdue. If the scarlet gleam in Sebastian’s eyes bore any indication, similar musings must be crossing his mind.

“In the meantime, dearest, shall the two of us put that mistletoe to its intended use?” he purred.

Transfixed by his beguiling smile, the maid simply nodded, and her lover dispensed with the petty formalities of mortal ambulation, instead drawing on his power to whisk her away to the kitchen…

Whose doorframe now stood devoid of the mistletoe with which Mey Rin had adorned it…and from whose vicinity Amy Michaelis, president of hell, was conspicuously absent.

"BROTHER!" Amy cried, catching the butler alone one evening and stomping up to him as if she's on a serious mission.

"You must explain to me all these.. "Christmas" things, Brother. From what I've gathered so far, it-it's completely ridiculous!! And unnecessary!! one story about celebrating Jesus Christ, the other about.. Santa Clause.. am I to believe these humans are implying to still care about that.. BISHOP?! WHAT the hell is going on!!"

The little president of Hell finished by flapping her hands about in frustration. Clearly she's had a confusing time coming back here around Winter.

Sebastian gazed down at his sister with a condescending smirk.

“Surely you understand the importance of keeping abreast of human customs. How can we devils ensnare our prey’s souls without a thorough knowledge of their habits?”

Amy puffed out her cheeks and put her hands on her hips.

“Unlike a certain DUMB SIBLING of mine who’s stuck babysitting a puny mortal brat here on Earth, I have presidential duties to fulfill!” she snapped. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Her barbed retort wiped the deprecating grin off Sebastian’s face, and his eyebrow twitched in irritation at this affront. But he saw all too clearly the tongues of flame which were beginning to flicker ominously around Amy’s silhouette. If he didn’t satisfy her curiosity, his sister’s pique might reduce the manor to a funeral pyre. Between her volatile temper and Bardory’s perennial misadventures with his flamethrower, risk of a conflagration to rival that which destroyed the original estate seemed ever close at hand.

“How often must I remind you to control your hellfire on the young master’s grounds?” he scolded.

Amy rolled her eyes, but, after heaving an exaggerated sigh, quenched her flames, which shrank and retracted into the young demon’s form.

“Would you just get on with it, brother?”

Clearing his throat, he stiffly replied, “Ahem. As I was about to say, humans have devised numerous quaint and curious customs around the holiday in recent years. There are indeed a pious number who commemorate the birth of the holy infant in Bethlehem—only to disregard the season’s message of peace and goodwill towards their fellow men for the other 364 days of the year.”

His lips twitched into a disparaging sneer at the thought of mortals’ boundless hypocrisy.

“As for how they managed to turn St. Nicholas of Myra into a jolly old fellow clad in red who dispenses gifts and rides about in a sleigh drawn by reindeer…”

The butler’s voice took on a pedantic cadence, as though he were tutoring his young master on the fussy particulars of British history.

“Of course, human legends tend to warp and blur with time; unlike ours, their memories are neither as long nor as sharp as they would like to believe. The fiction of ‘Santa Claus’ can also serve as a means for parents to persuade naughty children to behave themselves. According to some versions of the tale, only well-mannered younglings may expect presents from Santa, while those inclined to mischief receive naught but a lump of coal in their stocking.”

“But if the parents are the ones actually buying those toys, don’t all the children get presents in the end?” blurted Amy, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Right you are, little sister,” he smoothly continued. “Which brings me to the reason why I believe Santa Claus has truly taken hold within the popular imagination—greed. Christmas presents must be bought from somewhere, and the vendor capable of supplying them can turn a handsome profit. My own young master lined his coffers with sales from a limited edition set of Funtom Rabbits exclusively produced for the holiday…”

Amy’s eyes had started to glaze over.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” she interrupted. “But what about other traditions? Like…hanging branches of mistletoe over doorways. Is that some idiotic human method for warding off evil spirits?”

[meherya]

Mal haters are corny, they’re jealous he’s actually a main character that plays a substantial role in the series while the darkling’s like a crusty barnacle that pops up like 4 times or some shit in the rest of the series

[askamykruber]

Have the handeemen ever gotten in fights with each other?

Like Riley and Nick Nack?

RILEY ANNE RUCKUS PUT THAT SAW DOWN!

*Screaming and crying*

"RILEY FOR THE LAST TIME, WE DO NOT TURN NICK INTO TOOTHPICKS"

OWEN IS RIGHT!

*Screaming*

"Umm, Ms. Kruber"

Yes, Joel?

"You have an ask from a guest..."

Oh, son of a nutcracker, I forgot we had a guest over. Umm Joel, can you make sure Riles doesn't try to actually turn on that-

*Saw noises*

Turn off the energy ASAP NOW!

Ooh dear lord, who said that bein' a mama of puppets would be easy...

Oh, Hiya!

Well I supposed that little "inconvenience" those answer your question. Thankfully, Owey and I have been tryin' our best to prevent bickerin' and fightin' within the puppets. I always thought that breakin' up fights with those rascals would be as easy as pie

I was mistaken when Owy forgot to tell me they have a tendency to-

*Lights go off*

"I'LL RIP YOU APAR-"

"SHUSH IT YOUNG LADY!

"YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, LAB RAT!"

*sighs as she turns on a flashlight* They have a tendency to get into what he call "Anger mode" It is far tamer than their vengeance mode, but...I'll say it's mostly like dealin' with a wet angry kitten.

Nick tends to be the one who gets into a lot of fights...well I'll say rather involved in some occasions.

At our first years with the puppets, we had to physically separate Mortimer and Nick from each other. Mortimer tended to get quite aggressive with him in comparison to the other girls. I encourage Owy to take Mortimer to his meditation routine, that thankfully had stopped Mortimer from gettin' aggressive towards Nick.

Both still dislike the other, and do argue in some occasions. Counting up to 10 seems to help lower their anger.

Regardin' his relationship with the girls?

He and Riley have gotten into strong big verbal arguments until Owen sets his foot down and shuts them both. Both seem to have a rocky relationship, but they treat each other with respect

Mortimer surprisingly has a lot of patience considerin' how Daisy tends to be. The best they can get is to Mortimer being annoyed but he leaves instead of saying anything.

Scouty is quite afraid of Mortimer, so she often tries not gettin' into his way. He did give her once an ugly glance when she accidentally stepped into his way.

Riley... *sighs* tends to have the most emotional outburst. She tends to get quite violent and is rather fast for a puppet. She often gets into verbal arguments or threatens people.

In the worst occasions she might try to actually do something, but does it more for threatening unless someone pokes the angry bear like this time. She seems to prefer to be alone in a room to let her negative energy out, rest on Rosco, or embrace a plushie mama made for her resembling Rosco.

She thankfully is working on her tamper

Riley doesn't tend to fight a lot with Daisy. If she does she's quick to apologize after some time to rest.

Sadly, she and Scouty are in need to work on their sisterly relationship...

Nick does have some few arguments with Daisy, but they're mostly petty. Daisy does well to stand her ground, and Nick does feel guilty when he makes poor Daisy upset.

With Scouty? He tends to be a little mean to her, but has gotten into some truces to get payback when Riley made them upset

Scouty tends to occasionally prank the Handeemen (except Mortimer) but she has been behaving ever since Daisy gave her that disapproving look.

The automatons and the sock puppets tend to behave the best. They seem to enjoy my niece's companies and are a great help for Anthony as he's trying to help his girlfriend (and my grandniece) Beth overcome her fear of puppets.

"Amy!"

*turns to Owen* Christ, you scared me!

"They're finally asleep"

Oh yes, a small side effect of "Anger mode" is that the puppets tend to feel a little drowsy. "Vengeance mode" is the same, but they're used to it by now so it affects them less.

I hope that answer your question and take care!

Now...Joey can you turn on the lights again? I can barely see where I'm going...

[izazaa]

[tf2] sniperspy prompt fill

TF2, Sniper/Spy

@usedtobehmc​: Spy inspires Sniper. (Not quite what you were expecting, I’m guessing, but I hope it reads easily enough :’D Thanks for the prompt!)

Spy is captured and Sniper has to win him back in a game of cards.

The bar is a shabby thing on the mainland, near one of the lesser used ports that Hale's using to smuggle weapons to the obscure island that he's converted into his Mercenary Park, and its occupants all turn towards Sniper as he pushes through its creaky doors – a casual curiosity at first, that sharpens to something nastier as they survey his six feet of foreigner, the rifle strapped to his back, SMG and kukri holstered at his waist.

This wouldn't faze him usually, but the stakes are much higher this time, and he can't help that cold sweat breaks out along his brow. Sniper is Sniper and not Spy for a reason; he's rubbish at this sort of trickery, rubbish at close range. But Spy is incapacitated, and the rest of his members back at the park, oblivious, so Sniper steels his nerves and saunters his way to the counter with false bravado.

"I'll take the best you have," he growls as he flags down the young woman behind the bar, slapping a bill on the table. The denomination is far larger than any drink has right to cost, but she slips it into her shirt, pours him a single shot glass of golden liquid, and doesn't give him any change.

The first shot burns as he leans against the counter with feigned disinterest, the second shot goes smoother, and as he turns to fetch a third, he spots Spy at the far end of the bar, nearly blocked from view by the burly, heavily-tattooed man perched on a stool between them. Sniper barely stops himself from flinching; though he hadn't expected anything pleasant, the sight of him – gagged, hands bound between back, crumpled in the corner – and his stomach drops.

The burly man leans into his view, scowling. "What you looking at, boy?"

In the haze of his camper, the orange light of dusk filtering through heady cigarette smoke, Spy had confessed a few tricks to his trade. "I don't lie," he drawled as he stretched out atop Sniper, light-hearted contempt curling off the tip of his tongue.

"That's a lie right there," Sniper accused as he swept his hand over Spy's back.

Spy pinched his nipple in reproach, but otherwise ignored him and continued, "I'm hardly a common swindler. Espionage requires more skill, and grace."

Twisting away from Spy's teasing fingers, Sniper rolled over to cover Spy's body with his. Murmured against Spy's neck, "Yeah?" to feel him shiver beneath him.

"I do not lie. I manipulate truths, and make them work for me." Spy tangled his fingers into Sniper’s hair and dragged him into a bruising kiss. Gasping as he pulled back to growl, "I make them mine."

There are few words after that.

Remembering this, Sniper jabs his finger towards Spy and says, "Him. I want him."

It's not a lie. His wrath isn't a lie either. He almost heaves a sigh of relief when the man, after scrutinising him, grunts, "Yea? He stole something from you too?"

"An' he hasn't paid me back," Sniper agrees. Curiosity wins over him, and he pushes off the counter, leaning past the man to peer at Spy. "Well, aren't you a sorry sight?" Spy doesn't look up, doesn't even react. Sniper's blood runs cold. "I want him," he repeats more urgently, "What's he worth to you?"

The man studies him, then says, "Ten thousand."

Ten thousand is… a lot. It is twice what he has on hand right now. Sniper refuses to delay getting him back. Mind racing, he blurts out, "I'll play you for him."

The man laughs in his face, an incredulous bark, but he sounds more amused than offended. "Dai di?" He pulls out a worn pack of card, with a sneer that suggests he doesn't expect a foreigner like Sniper to know it.

Dai di. Deuces. He's played it before; a team of liars and cheaters and card sharks and geniuses had to rotate card games often to keep it entertaining. Sniper tries not to let his relief show as he tells the man, "Challenge accepted."

Spy pressed against his side as they sit around a crate, playing cards by the light of a kerosene lamp. "You are a terrible bluff," he pointed out gleefully.

"Ain't my fault I'm playing with a weasel and the smartest man on base," Sniper grumbled, waving to Pyro as he added, "and whatever you are."

Spy snorted. "The labourer wins because he counts cards –"

Engie interrupted with a good-natured scoff, "The snake wins because he cheats."

"I bluff," Spy corrected with a smirk. "And the Pyro wins because they have… an impenetrable poker face. Among us, you would get more mileage following in Pyro's lead."

Sniper mulled this over, returned the head tilt that Pyro gave him with one of his own. "A poker face, eh?"

"May as well have that horse face be good for something –"

"Oi."

"– and you are observant, being a sniper. You should be able to glean some of their tells, if not mine. Give it a go, mon ami."

Sniper ended up losing the next three rounds anyway, because the air hung heavy with humidity; Spy had shed his jacket and the garters cinching his sleeves tight around his forearms were very distracting. But with the night so quaint, with Spy warm and languid at his side, Sniper found it hard to be upset.

He's never gleaned any of Spy's tells but the brute before him isn't Spy, and doesn't hide his tells as well. The muscle in his jaw ticks in an ill-repressed smile. He thumbs the corner of his cards impatiently when he wants Sniper to fall for his lure. There's a furrow between his brows that deepen as he realises Sniper's expression gives nothing away. There's a twitch at his right eye when he draws a bad card, and it twitches again when Sniper gains the upper hand, and it is positively throbbing as the final round draws to a close.

With a nasty, throaty chuckle, Sniper lays his hand down – a straight flush – and grins at the brute. "Too bad! Guess I'll be taking him."

"Guess again," the brute snarls, furious at being beat at his own game, and reaches for the gun at his hip.

At once, Sniper is on his feet. He reached towards his hip, not for the handle of his kukri, but his SMG. The way the eyes follow the path of his hand, then widen, was not lost on him. The brute and his friends are armed with rifles and pistols but more of them means more targets for Sniper to hit, especially if he lets loose in such a cramped space. A shoot out will not be pretty for any of them.

Bloody hell. What would Spy do in such a sticky situation? Stand in that cocky manner of his, chest puffed out, and lie his way out. But that was impossible; if Sniper even tried to mimic his posture, he'd fall back on his ass. Instead he draws himself to his full height, a good head taller than any other man here, and bares his teeth like a vicious animal. "I won him fair and square! An' I'll gun through the lot of you to get what belongs to me!"

The stalemate draws out for a long terse moment, before a clear voice rings out, "Let him go."

The young barkeep, who kept his change, to his rescue! She arches an eyebrow when the men begin to protest, and slams down a shot glass down against the counter. "Who wants to explain to Pa that they shot up his bar, harh?! He'll skin that pretty ink off you!"

As she whirls upon the brute – "And you! I saw you lose to that ang moh! Still want to say what?!" – Sniper hurries to Spy, yanking him up by his arm, masking his concern as another sneer when Spy lurches and hisses in pain. With no time to spare, Sniper hooks an arm around his waist and leads his hard-fought prize out of the bar, grinning fiercely.

As soon as they're safe in his hotel room, Sniper lowers Spy gingerly onto to bed, making sure not to jar his injuries. He's glad he had the presence mind to lay out the contents of his first aid kit on the rickety side table as he peels off Spy's shirt – there is a coconut-sized concave in the left side of Spy's rib cage, bones cracked inwards. A painkiller first, administered by needle, and then the lone health pack is applied to that cave in, admitting a soft red glow that contrasts with the sick crackling as Spy's ribs pop back into place.

Weakly, Spy whines as his most grievous injury heals, his eyelashes flutter as he strains to open his eyes, and then he's rasping, "Sniper! What a sight for sore eyes."

Sniper wants to laugh with relief, that Spy still has it in him to be a mouthy bastard. "Can't say the same for you." Just at a glance, Sniper spots ruptured blood vessels in one eye, bruises spread across his pale skin like watercolour, and numerous lacerations already yellow with infection in this tropical weather.

It's unclear if Spy hadn’t heard him, or if he chose to ignore him; either way, instead of replying, Spy hums under Sniper's careful hands, and informs him, "I saw your performance. Lying and trickery! I had not expected these from you! It was very impressive."

"No jab about how I learnt from the best?" No matter that Sniper did learn from the best. No matter that Spy does inspire him to be more. Gritting his teeth, Sniper sets about cleaning the open wounds next.

"That goes without saying. Why, with such a promising teacher, perhaps there's a spy in you after all!" This awful, heavy-handed innuendo is too much for Spy to tolerate, and he dissolves into feverish laughter.

"You're stupid," Sniper tells Spy shortly, focusing instead on looping bandages around his poor, abused torso.

"Oh no, don't learn that from me." Spy chuckles wetly.

Sniper thumbs away the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Learn what?"

"Petty insults in lieu of honesty."

Sniper looks away. "I was bein' real honest when I called you stupid."

"Sure, sure." Spy laughs again, and as he lists slightly, reaches out to Sniper for support. "Is that all you want to say to me?

Catching that hand, Sniper holds it against his cheek for a moment, bites his lower lip, then gives up his search for words, and turns his mouth to Spy's palm.

Spy huffs and leans into Sniper, sulking. "Well I'm glad to see you."

There's a petulance in his voice that makes Sniper snort. Helplessly, he abandons the first aid just for the moment, to rest his forehead lightly on Spy's shoulder, cheek against the side of his neck. "You're delirious," Sniper tells him, but with a sigh, relents. "I'm glad to see you too."

Drop me an ask with a prompt if you, too, want a haphazard prompt fill! (9*^*)9 I’ll be with my thesis until the next prompt, or the deadline o/

[lovelyirony]

XYZ Affair: Truth, Justice, and Screwing the French Over

Allow me to tell you guys about the only good thing that happened in the United States’ second president John Adams’ entire presidency. 

the XYZ affair. 

here’s the thing: French people were really crazy. Beheading everyone, getting really angry, and generally weird. Viva la Baguette, and all that jazz. Well. the country was broke af. like “haha mon ami what’s for breakfast?” “Fuckin air Jacques. Air.” “Hon hon oh no.” So yeah, generally not a good thing. 

Well, America (US) was trading with Britain at this point. They seriously needed to, otherwise they were gonna go broke too, and they were not feeling that poor life. So they were sailing and doing their thing and the French just start ransacking

like they’re getting on ships and bein like “hey all of this ???? fuck u it’s ours. Also??? ur joining the french army baguette beret force bitches.” So this was a Problem. A big one. 

So John Adams was “!!!! not cool!” (It should be noted that John Adams? Terrible people person. Just--the worst.) So everyone else (including our boy Alex Ham) wanted to declare war on France. Because that’s actually really bad etiquette! But Johnny maintains his cool this time around and sends delegates. 

French officials, referred to as X, Y, and Z, don’t even try to start amending things. You wanna know why? 

they said they wouldn’t speak until they had a bribe of ten million dollars. 

This is the biggest insult. Literally the worst insult ever. Yes, France is starving and desperate and dying bc Revolution and stuff, but you are not allowed to ask for ten million dollars from America after stealing their trade things and their people and KEEPING THEM. You just don’t. 

John Adams is furious as heck. He is the embodiment of the “what the fuck is up kyle” meme. Only worse. But this petty ass hoe knows what’s good. He knows what he’s doing bc it’s gonna be cool. It’s fine. 

He leaks what France did to the press. 

All of America is furious. French approval ratings go down. The best part? France, as a whole, is mortified. because they didn’t expect america to go “lmao i have the RECEIPTS.” So they have to make a treaty with the US promising not to be salty and grab all their shit. 

and that is the XYZ affair. 

[a-wolf-among-men]

🌕 + 1-7

Let me mun/muse rant send  🌕 + a number/numbers for the mun and  🌑 + number/numbers for the muse | accepting

Going to put the ex-friend story under the cut because it’s super fucking long.

1. A person they know/ran into

I was going to talk about some dude I met freshmen year, but that’s more of an ex-friend story. Anyways, so when I was at the Reptile expo where I got Staurn, there was this kid, I’d assume he was in the 12-13 range like he wasn’t that old and was in the asshole age range. He was holding a piebald ball python aka a really expensive morph of ball python and he put it on his head because “my hands are full” even though they weren’t and didn’t even try to stabilize it and basically threw it back onto the fucking display case. And his fucking dad didn’t say a word, like??? I want to fucking slap that kid so fucking hard, you don’t just do that and age is no excuse, because even I knew at that age you don’t fucking throw an animal back onto a table.

2. A pet peeve

Being dragged out of my house to things that I have no interest in because “You need to get out more” and when I actually want to go to place all of the sudden my mother cares about my social anxiety and asks me if we need to leave. It’s just??? Don’t pretend to care about me???

3. Something they hate but everyone loves

I hate Ahri. No seriously I hate her and it’s not because “oh shes popular” no it’s because shes a perfect example of how lazy Riot can be with designs and lore. Not to mention she just attracts assholes since every single Ahri I get on my team is terrible and the most toxic person I’ve ever met. I swear I’ve seen he design 1000x over just with ocs alone not to mention any anime with a fox character and she has no personality beyond I’M SEXY FOX FUCK ME. It honestly baffles me as to why shes such a popular champ.

4.Something they love but everyone hates

I fucking love reptiles k? They’re honestly so much better than cats and dogs, but every time I ago to any family gathering I could be talking to my grandma about my snake because she asked, but my aunt or my cousin have to butt into the conversation just to shit on my pets or something that I want to get. It’s just holy shit just because it’s not a cat or dog doesn’t mean it’s okay to shit on someones fucking pet.

5. An ex RP partner

Well I’ll get to them in the rant about an ex-friend bit, so…

6.An ex friend

So it’s 7th grade me and one of my close friendos are talking and walking around this little grassy spot near the lunch tables, we’re just talking about a bunch of random things. Than low and behold here comes the asshole I never liked form the started butting into our conversation to talk about sword art online something neither of us actually liked. He took over the conversation and got offended if me and my other friend if we even tried to talk about something else. The dude even bragged about beating up a 6 y/o for hitting on his little sister, he was that kind of asshole.

Cut to late 7th grade where this dude actually gets into the rp scene on Deviantart. This is also leads into one of my worst rp experiences ever just flat out ever and almost made me quit. So I was a huge weeb in middle school I’m talking black butler merch, Prussia messenger bag, shit ton of anime merch, wanting to learn Japanese, etc. So I used to write a lot of Prussia and Russia.

So in Hetalia Hungary has a huge crush on Prussia this leads into it don’t worry I’m not ust saying this to say it. One of the characters he used to write a lot was Hungary and during one of our threads in short he knocked out my muse and raped them without even asking me me first and then got mad when I wasn’t fine with it because “they love each other so it isn’t rape” which is a flat out lie, but hey couldn’t really do anything about it. That was the first thing that made me from being in different to being wary.

So like the utter dumb ass I am I continued to write with them where they continually forced ships on me and got really pissed when I wasn’t okay with it. This continued on until I started really shifting away from Hetalia because of this and started getting into league by early 8th. 

My first ever league muse was Thresh, but I never wrote him around this dude I only wrote Viktor. He kept claiming I was god modding because “I BLEW UP HIS LAB HE CAN’T SURVIVE AN EXPLOSION” even tho he did all of this without fucking asking me first and would always throw a tantrum like a 2 y/o if I had a problem with it. The rest of 8th grade is just a blur besides me moving onto secretly disliking him nothing really important happens.

In the beginning of freshmen year we all joined chess club because our friend, I’ll call im’ Sam for the sake of anonymity, wanted to join. I only really played games against my friend Cathy (for anonymity again), because we both had never really played chess before and I was god awful at it. This dude was hardly in the club ever it was just me, Cathy, Sam, and I’ll call her Amy ever there. He was always at the anime club.

Then the huge shit show of Freshman year starts, me and Cathy used to tease this kid by calling him weeaboo and instead of telling me or Cathy that he doesn’t like to be called it HE THREW A FUCKING TANTRUM ON DEVIANTART, so of course bein’ lil’ ol’ 14 y/o me I was pissed, which I had every right to be since he basically vague posted about me in a journal. So of course I confronted him about it on Deviantart and he got all defensive and refused to apologize for flat out lying about me and Cathy. 

After a shit ton of petty arguments online I finally just blocked him and reported him to the Deviantart staff for harassment, because he kept starting everything by going to my page and making a snarky comment or making a journal about me, they refused to do anything about it of course, but that’s not important. It also led to me leaving the site he just the straw that broke the camels back. Remember when I said he hardly ever showed up to chess club? GUESS WHO STARTED SHOWING UP EVERY DAY. 

So me and Cathy eventually stopped going and just hung out with our other friend Spooce (shes spooce-spooce on here). He would literally follow us to the other side of campus and would only fuck off when we told him to stop following us. This lasted throughout freshmen year and luckily by sophomore year I was accepted into a homeschooling program, so guess who never has to see that asshole again? This girl.

[thetroublewithloveis-blog]

INVERSO TEMPUS [closed]

[ @fantasticnumber14 ]

For the first time since they’d begun these Canon jumps months ago, Rose Tyler had landed inside of a women’s loo. The loo hadn’t been empty at the time either, and Rose had sufficiently scared the holy ghost out of a poor unsuspecting girl who had been washing her hands. That girl had begun to scream for security, and had run from the loo nearly instantly with Rose right behind her attempting to think of some sort of reasonable lie. As soon as Rose stepped out of the loo however, she stopped in her tracks and felt a twinge of anxiety slice into her abdomen. Oh no.

People were starting to filter out of doorways and stairwells, curious as to what the commotion was, and they were all staring right at Rose. Apparently the loo was inside of a Uni building, which meant security cameras as well. Sodding brilliant. Even if none of these strangers noticed the smoke rising from her blue leather jacket or the fact that her clothing was slightly different than theirs, those bloody cameras would. Hearing another round of screaming from the girl coming from another corridor, Rose turned briefly to the curious eyes staring at her and said, “Huge rat. Came right at us. Might wanna call pest control.” before turning on her heel and legging it down the corridor after the terrified girl. 

If Torchwood or UNIT found out about this she’d probably be taken into custody again and she didn’t fancy losing another month’s worth of jumps as time was in such short supply already. When Rose turned down the final first-level corridor, however, she saw the girl vanish behind two double doors that lead outside at the end of the hall and knew she would never catch her in time.

“Dammit!” She shout-whispered, kicking the wall next to her and breathing heavily from her wasted efforts. If she told Micks or Owen about this over the Comm, they would immediately activate the Canon and bring her back, despite her not even knowing where and when she was or if she’d managed to finally find the Doctor’s proper timeline. Anything she planned to do she had to do before she turned on her wrist Comm, and she had to sort it out before she ended up in some Torchwood cell underground or worse, a UNIT medical lab.

Leaning back against the wall she’d just assaulted, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, contemplating her options.