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punkscowardschampions · 3 years ago

Text

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hey

Joe: my flatmate has some work I reckon your mate might be interested in

Joe: but it’ll sound a bit dodgy coming from me so you wanna pass it along?

Joe: moneys alright for no real work, depending on how you look at it

Ronnie: never done any work as a secretary myself

Ronnie: write your own fucking love notes

Joe: I see that

Joe: your accent down the 📞?

Joe: no cunt here’d understand you, never mind the demeanour

Joe: yeah, well, it’d really seem that way

Joe: but I actually need someone to take her off my hands

Ronnie: racism as foreplays playing to the wrong crowd hes more into homo bashing

Ronnie: errr dunno how you read his demeanor mckenna but he aint taken a her off anyones hands since before any of us had phones

Joe: i’ll keep that in mind

Joe: well homophobic of me to not tell him myself so he’s welcome for the freebie

Joe: not actual escorting

Joe: she does art, her life drawing class needs a model

Joe: I ain’t fucking doing that

Joe: tell me I ain’t 📖 him right on that one

Ronnie: fucks sake if youd said it was cash for cock wed be done talking already

Joe: I just did

Joe: sound, she’ll be made up, she’ll get off my case, and he’ll get £15 an hour, apparently 👌

Ronnie: sexist not to ask me

Ronnie: pass that on to your little gf

Joe: weren’t her idea to ask Charlie

Joe: you’ll have to take up that grievance with me as well

Joe: I’ll just point out it’d be even weirder if I’d have asked you

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: how much £ you offering me to bang you

Joe: if I did no point paying you to do it for her and her class and not me

Joe: that’s an interesting take on cucking though, loads that would go for it, I’m sure

Ronnie: ill write it down as youve made me go hunting for a pen in this shithole

Joe: cheers

Joe: take 20% commission or whatever

Joe: or take the IOU I owe him for doing this

Ronnie: you said it hed do this for fuck all ill take the lot and mary wont know it was a paid gig

Joe: if he can fend the flatmate off, undoubtedly a load of art gays he can have his pick of

Ronnie: that what youre telling yourself for why you dont want me to do it yeah

Joe: you wanna do it?

Ronnie: i want you to admit the reason you dont want me to is cause he scrubs up enough for horse girl and her course mates not to stage an intervention

Joe: not what it is so no

Joe: I know I don’t want to get my shit out in front of a load of middle class kids who know fuck all about fuck all, so I assumed as much for you

Ronnie: dont ever assume fuck all for or about me

Joe: why do you wanna do it so bad when like you said, you can pocket the cash and get him to?

Ronnie: i dont wanna fucking do it

Joe: well that’s grand ‘cos I reckon Sophie wants to see dick so

Joe: she’d be really let down

Ronnie: usually what gets you off

Ronnie: but im made up youre in love now like

Joe: please, she either don’t get it’s weird to ask me which means she’s some kind of special

Joe: or this is the start of her 50 shades fantasy and I have to be the let down to end all let downs and i’m already doing my best

Ronnie: rem is right to pay for it when she could just walk in on you taking a piss or having a shower

Joe: when you’re just a creep and not a predator 💔

Joe: not the girl my parents warned me about

Ronnie: if theyd be the type to go down the stables theyd have seen the other side of her

Joe: you’ve got your own daydreams, alright

Joe: put out the feelers, who isn’t a little gay these days, right

Ronnie: go ed and pass on ive got a bigger dick than him and she will have

Ronnie: i dont dream 💔

Joe: shame she isn’t equally inspiring for you

Joe: or anyone, really

Ronnie: cry about it with him when youre done pimping

Joe: what do you dream about then, when you’re awake

Ronnie: what you cant read me

Joe: clearly not

Joe: dashed your modelling dreams

Ronnie: blind and not able to read braille must be dead hard for you

Joe: is that sympathy?

Joe: or you offering me 🖐 to 👩🏼‍🦲 time

Ronnie: again you wish

Ronnie: 💭💉

Ronnie: cant make it any easier to understand soz

Joe: maybe I do

Joe: far as 💭s go

Ronnie: fuck maybe you do or you dont

Joe: well it ain’t why I don’t want to get my arms out for her

Joe: not tried it

Joe: but not a no

Ronnie: give a shit what you do or dont want to do for or to her

Joe: that is a no, tah

Ronnie: tell her not me baby

Joe: that’s not a big sister duty?

Joe: gutted

Ronnie: wouldnt know im the middle kid dorothy does that for us

Joe: i’ll ask him when i’m crying on him then

Joe: make a change for me

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: rack up the ious like a fat line hes gonna be made up

Joe: oi he’s like family ain’t he

Ronnie: &

Ronnie: you wanna fuck your mam

Ronnie: not oi ing you

Joe: well you get to think about me and him, you gave me her and you, not fair

Ronnie: life aint soft lad

Ronnie: and stopping at thinking about shit is the difference between me and you

Joe: I get it, you’ve gone there

Joe: purely here for the homophobia

Ronnie: your kinks match 💘

Ronnie: purely there so the lads dont kick off before hes got his kicks

Joe: see, you’ve got it in you 💘

Joe: the sisterly thing

Joe: my hate don’t get expressed by putting me in him though so I won’t run my mouth

Ronnie: not what ive got in me but im not giving you the talk just cause your ma didnt

Joe: you want a virgin to defile reckon Soph and her mates are prime, vampira

Ronnie: set it up with her ill show if i get no better offers

Joe: lucky girl

Joe: no more nights in doing doodles of cute girls that look like you

Ronnie: we dont look alike youll have to accept theyre of you

Joe: i fit less than you, by far

Ronnie: fuck off

Joe: sorry

Joe: it’s weird, say the least

Ronnie: i fit nowhere she made sure i dont

Joe: ditto

Joe: so buzzing i can write shit songs about it though

Ronnie: no

Ronnie: weve got fuck all in common

Joe: just the same mother

Joe: who put her shitty genetics and choices on us both at different times

Ronnie: i ain’t got a mother you cant cross out the un from wanted and act like its the same word

Joe: incubator then

Joe: she was 19 and still fucked, don’t think they had a five-year plan down

Joe: worse if she did, the state of

Ronnie: she made 1 choice for me shes still controlling you

Ronnie: were not the fucking same

Joe: you reckon

Ronnie: if you wanna claim it aint her fault youre this big of a pussy try it

Joe: you don’t think it’s my fault?

Joe: woah, just say you love me

Ronnie: i dont think about you when you aint trying to compare us

Joe: hot

Joe: I’ve thought about you plenty

Joe: uni ain’t that interesting

Ronnie: you came looking for me werent the other way round

Ronnie: you ain’t interesting to me mckenna

Joe: you reckon you’re fascinating, yeah?

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: if your flatmate knows anyone doing doc film making they can wank over me lying in the gutter when youre done

Joe: nah

Joe: you don’t want control of your narrative

Ronnie: i dont want a narrative

Joe: then i’ll be the only wanker

Ronnie: in your dreams

Joe: well you painted such a lovely visual

Ronnie: black screen would get you going can stay in your own fucked head with no interference then like

Joe: Static is my kink

Joe: you know me so well

Ronnie: your fucking kink is not shutting the hell up til i do

Joe: i’m a gentleman

Joe: and i’m taking that review

Ronnie: youll get a lengthy one from my big brother when you are

Joe: you don’t have to settle for hearing it and getting your kicks second-hand

Joe: I’ll have to be somewhere to be unavailable for this life drawing class

Joe: let’s do something

Ronnie: what you paying me to babysit

Joe: you can ask my mammy or you can see what you can get

Ronnie: if i was gonna talk to her it wouldnt be about you

Joe: thank god

Joe: so take the risk

Ronnie: of what

Ronnie: boring me is asking too much of you

Joe: that’s surely a given

Joe: risk anything but

Ronnie: if I need rescuing again ill call you thats the only given Joe: you’re worse than her

Joe: christian grey or superman, like

Joe: gonna be BFFs yous, I can tell

Ronnie: you dont like being compared to cunts youre nothing like either funny that

Joe: touche

Joe: come on, what would convince you

Ronnie: if youre gonna beg then beg and if youre gonna show me something do it

Joe: I know you’d like to hear me beg but I can’t tell what you’d wanna see

Ronnie: then the answers nothing

Joe: nah

Joe: the answers you want to wait or you wanna be disappointed

Ronnie: why the fuck would I want either of those things

Joe: that’s what I’ll give you then

Joe: the opposite of that

Ronnie: thats meant to convince me yeah

Joe: nah, I am

Ronnie: like fuck will you

Joe: see, you want to be disappointed

Ronnie: ill be disappointed want has fuck all to do with it

Joe: if you don’t come and see

Ronnie: come where

Joe: see me

Joe: i’m new in town, I don’t know where to go

Joe: fuck sightseeing

Ronnie: [somewhere she’d hang out]

Ronnie: go there

Joe: now?

Ronnie: whenever you dont know where to go

Joe: okay

Joe: and I’ll see you there when you don’t

Ronnie: when im not fucking either of our flatmates

Joe: when you’re done being disappointed

Ronnie: when you prove yourself as not

Joe: you’ll see

Joe: I can’t show you over the phone

Ronnie: you could

Ronnie: im going nowhere on a bullshit promise cause im not a meff teenager

Joe: and I ain’t young enough to think that’s a good idea either

Joe: pictures not doing no favours

Joe: if you’re there and i’m there

Ronnie: big if

Joe: I never know where to be

Ronnie: newborn i heard you

Joe: something like that

Joe: if you can’t leave soph alone I’ll do my best begging 🥺

Ronnie: she cant leave you alone id be doing you a favour

Joe: true

Joe: wouldn’t wanna be caught doing that though

Ronnie: let you do the clean up after ive killed and ate her id be caught well fast for that instead

Joe: you’d get caught for being three times your size

Joe: she’s a big girl

Joe: you should share, be sworn to secrecy

Ronnie: doing her a favour i shouldve said

Ronnie: fuck all going for her

Joe: way to get in shape

Joe: she’ll appreciate us using her blood for something artsy on the walls

Ronnie: ill ask the basic white bitch i live with to give me a clue

Joe: 🍆 will be appropriate for her

Ronnie: 🐎

Joe: they might reckon she did it with her dying breath

Joe: very artist of her, dying how she lived

Ronnie: hurry the fuck up with your confession song if you want credit

Joe: you wanna hear me confessing so bad

Joe: but I might be able to hand that in so

Joe: hold on

Ronnie: it aint me whos a choir boy

Joe: ugh, I wish

Ronnie: cant chat shit about us having the same fantasies ive been touched by a old bloke wearing a dress and i dont rate it

Ronnie: standard surrounded by homos night out

Joe: yeah, and the nuns are never the hot kind

Joe: if they didn’t self-flagellate they’d be entirely uninteresting

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: yeah, it’s tragic being this bored/boring, say it ‘fore you have to bother

Ronnie: didnt invite you to no pity party and if thats where youre trying to get me to turn up to dont bother is right

Joe: you mean you don’t wanna talk about your feelings?

Joe: like you said, like being left alone with my own fucked up ones too much to try and start a therapy session

Ronnie: what fucking feelings dead above & below the waist like

Joe: dangerously close to sharing there

Joe: you got your 💉 already then?

Ronnie: wouldnt be this chatty if i had

Ronnie: unlucky you

Joe: I’m the one that wants to see you

Joe: so I’ll cope

Ronnie: cant even spell martyrdom proper so youve fucked yourself looking for a pat on the back off me by matching the definition up

Joe: i’ll just ring mum up yeah

Ronnie: your da if not but it wont have the same satisfying end for you like

Joe: 💔

Joe: validations the last thing i need

Joe: had a whole lifetime

Ronnie: you crawling back to me with a boner for the accent your mummys losing is the last thing i need

Ronnie: get on the scouse samaritans

Joe: don’t reckon that’s a job you’ll get any time soon either

Joe: ‘less the purpose is to make sure people go through with it

Ronnie: couldve fooled me if it aint what else is talking a sad cunts ear off about their problems gonna do

Joe: attention seekers anonymous

Ronnie: no need to meet you there i earned all them badges as a kid 🧷🩸

Joe: wouldn’t be caught 💀 obvs

Joe: keeping it secret adds another level of masochism anyway

Ronnie: does it fuck

Ronnie: keeps you feeling like a smug bitch you can still pass

Ronnie: miss me with that pussy shit

Joe: nah, that’s that i’m in control shit

Joe: it’s not that

Joe: the only thing you might be smug about is how oblivious everyone chooses to be

Joe: if it weren’t also depressing as fuck

Ronnie: dont give em the choice

Joe: why?

Ronnie: why the fuck would you want to

Joe: don’t need to be my mother’s next cause celebre

Joe: she can force the therapy and concern on any of the others, I don’t wanna get better or have to fake like I’ll even try

Ronnie: then dont

Ronnie: cut off your umbilical cord and wipe up the blood trail

Ronnie: not like she tries very hard to herd back the black sheep

Joe: maybe they know and don’t give a fuck 🤞

Joe: I know I ain’t going back so whatever

Ronnie: & you reckon weve got anything in common

Joe: just 50% of our DNA

Joe: never said we were twinsies

Ronnie: if youd have said id have spat in your face 1st time we met get it collected and the tests run

Joe: I wish

Joe: has your face healed

Ronnie: wheres the fun in letting it do that

Joe: 😏

Joe: we can pretend that’s inherited if you need

Ronnie: not 5 i dont play pretend

Joe: if you keep digging, reckon the ink will be gone and it’ll be pure scar tissue

Ronnie: calm the fuck down i can hear how turned on you are about it from here

Joe: spoilsport

Joe: just thinking, scar that only vaguely looks like 🍒s might be well more rugged for my transformation from baby to independent real boy

Ronnie: laughing cos i like pain not cause youre funny

Ronnie: when you see or hear it from wherever youre lurking

Joe: you don’t leave room for me to get the wrong idea, you’re alright

Joe: all them fucked ones are mine alone and already there

Ronnie: get your girlfriend to draw you a pin up & dont tell her youve changed the lass horse head to look like your mas

Ronnie: masc for masc in your bio before you know it and 🦋 tramp stamp to follow

Joe: you know my dad already has a tattoo that looks like her, no bullshit

Joe: and another dead girl on the other arm but that’s a whole other boring story

Joe: playing dress up is off the cards too if I’m ever gonna be a big boy

Ronnie: where do you keep his severed arm when youre not using it to fist yourself and how old were you when you cut it off

Ronnie: if we re telling stories

Joe: 😂

Joe: where we keep the horse

Joe: that en-suite is massive

Ronnie: if he finds out it was a paid gig ill know where to crash

Joe: still gutted she don’t wanna see you naked

Ronnie: youre a liar if you dont wanna see her face seeing me

Joe: don’t know if anyone could be bothered to look at her when you’re about but yeah

Joe: the trauma would really fuel me and make her much more bearable to live with

Ronnie: youre welcome like

Joe: gotta stop being nice to me

Joe: you know stalkers, give ‘em an inch

Ronnie: telling me what to do is the fastest way 🖕

Ronnie: and i know you dont have an inch to give me making the best of this shitshow is what an optimist like me has gotta do

Joe: obviously you’re that type

Joe: not having it in common will have you back 👍

Joe: you’re inspiring, like

Ronnie: chop off my arms and legs and get a camera set up in the en-suite

Joe: you’d fit in my cello case then, could take you everywhere

Ronnie: course youve had a measuring tape out

Joe: hate to kill your optimism with 🍆

Joe: have a go at pushing it back in

Ronnie: how longs your tongue reckon that could kill any girls optimism

Joe: 💔 if it was only good for chatting your ear off

Ronnie: [send him a picture of your weird gross split tongue because obviously]

Joe: [how does that not make you lisp, or does it, I always think that]

Joe: that’s why you’ve not had an invite

Joe: 🚫🐍

Ronnie: gutted

Joe: you know you can show up and do whatever you wanna do whenever

Joe: I’ll take you back

Ronnie: this performance art is meant to what just scare her or teach you how to get her to back the fuck off as well as

Ronnie: im not a fucking tour guide mckenna & you can get yourself evicted without my help

Joe: you know I meant to Dublin

Joe: don’t think it’d take much to scare Sophie off, give it a month for us to both get comfortable and she’ll see what I ain’t

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: I said if you want

Ronnie: dont need your permission to do anything i want

Joe: don’t think any of ‘em are that lax with their socials

Joe: you’d need directions

Ronnie: ive had years to find em & we dont both hang about with horse girls from kent

Joe: can’t say it’s your loss

Ronnie: shut up about it then

Joe: 🤐

Ronnie: 🖕

Joe: got a whole fist here, you can keep it

Ronnie: sizeist

Joe: told her yours is massive like you said, it’s fine

Ronnie: i said bigger than his not a horse shes in for a disappointment

Joe: gotta 🤞 she’s an optimist like you babe

Ronnie: unlike you shes gonna wait to see what i do with it before telling me to shove it

Joe: you just wanna blueball me for the pain

Joe: go on, for your lols

Ronnie: she wont want me at all unless youre gonna watch

Joe: and you need a witness so I get time too

Joe: I’ll do it, torturous as it’d be

Ronnie: the iou is gonna torture me too

Joe: if you’re lucky

Ronnie: not the dna half we share 💔

Joe: damnit

Joe: what’s good about being Scouse?

Ronnie: now the beatles are dead youve got fuck all to live for

Ronnie: noted

Joe: only the good ones

Joe: I dunno, anything good about it never happened, left when I was a kid and we still lived in a shithole with shitheads

Ronnie: get in line she left me in a shithole with shitheads 1st

Joe: where were you

Joe: wonder how close it was

Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter

Joe: it makes her more/less shitty depending

Ronnie: it aint gonna change my opinion and I dont give a shit about yours

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: get cosy with charlie hed take you down memory lane

Joe: not before he’s got it out for the art class tah

Ronnie: you didnt say when

Joe: [probably an evening class like tomorrow or the next day, then the same time a week later]

Ronnie: too fucking late the pen is in pieces

Joe: sure it isn’t the first time you’ve left him a note in blood

Ronnie: hes only gonna cry about it & take the shine off his modelling debut

Joe: awh

Joe: message him 🧓🏼

Ronnie: fuck off calling me old

Joe: 😏

Ronnie: ill write him a note blaming what a twat you are for what hes gonna walk in on

Joe: what mess have you made

Ronnie: havent killed myself yet

Joe: and you’ve not stopped talking so no OD’ing

Joe: possibilities are endless still

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: come out

Joe: we can get new ink to dig out

Joe: whatever

Ronnie: you gonna suck his dick this time

Joe: I’ll just pay the old-fashioned way

Ronnie: flashy cunt

Joe: what being a student is all about

Ronnie: and youre too special to poison your blood how the rest of em do

Joe: I’m not opposed but I can do it alone, I don’t need to go to a sweaty student bar that plays shit songs and has a load of sad Soph clones giving it 🥺

Ronnie: you can get another tattoo without me holding your hand

Joe: I could

Ronnie: go do it 🦋 baby

Joe: have mentioned its not about the tat, yeah?

Ronnie: nah not that ive heard

Joe: come on

Joe: i want to see you, i’ve said loads

Ronnie: youve said loads of shit yeah

Joe: shit i mean

Ronnie: why

Joe: why wouldn’t I

Ronnie: thats your answer then fuck it

Joe: you don’t need to ask ‘cos you know

Ronnie: i did ask and you said why the fuck not

Ronnie: like its nothing

Ronnie: like you didnt turn up uninvited into my life not long ago

Joe: then tell me to leave

Joe: like it’s that easy

Ronnie: i didnt tell you to fucking appear

Ronnie: just cause youre a kid dont make me the dead fish you won at the fair

Joe: I never had the choice

Joe: she told me about you, talked about you all the fucking time

Joe: you’ve always been in my life

Ronnie: and youve never been in mine

Ronnie: im not gonna carve out a place for you now cos you want it

Joe: Alright

Joe: do it then

Ronnie: dont tell me what to fucking do

Joe: I’m not going unless you say it

Ronnie: no shit this is fun for you

Joe: like fuck it is

Ronnie: im the car wreck youre craning your neck to keep looking at

Ronnie: thats all the fuck this is

Joe: lie better

Ronnie: you dont care about me or what this feels like

Joe: I can’t take it back, you know now

Ronnie: you dont wanna take it back

Joe: I can’t, what’s the point pretending

Joe: I never said I was a good person

Joe: being sorry won’t change anything for you

Ronnie: its all your christmases & birthdays im west as this course youre gonna keep on spinning me out

Joe: Piss off

Ronnie: lie better cunt

Joe: So you’re allowed pity parties, yeah?

Joe: 👌

Ronnie: calling you out on your bullshit is allowed if youre crying thats your problem

Joe: if all you want from me is for me to go away, consider it done

Joe: you can’t hack it, my apologies

Ronnie: tell me why if im so fucking wrong

Joe: I like you

Joe: I want you, to get to know you

Joe: I can’t just stop it, not for myself

Joe: So make me

Ronnie: stop telling me what to fucking do

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: you ain’t saying anything

Joe: what do you want

Ronnie: I dont want you to like me

Ronnie: fuck is that

Joe: yeah, it’s obvious you go to great lengths to be unlikeable

Joe: not going to tell no one am I

Ronnie: so hate me soft lad

Joe: I’ll give it a go

Ronnie: ill make you

Joe: give it a go then

Ronnie: where are you then

Joe: [give a location of somewhere near your flat ‘cos don’t need to actually set you on the flatmate rn and that’s likely where you were]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re just gonna show up however long that takes us without another word like !?]

Joe: [just so much eye contact ‘cos what you gonna say what you gonna do]

Ronnie: [definitely gonna take him somewhere sketchy as hell to the level that like Charlie doesn’t know we still go there/we’d never take him ever like you wanna get to know me okay bitch buckle up]

Joe: [can’t let you hook up or shoot up yet ‘cos chronological but go along with this obvs]

Ronnie: [it would make sense if you made out/almost hooked up though because the vibe for the next convo was very much oh fuck what are you doing here we didn’t mean to run each other like this but also v flirty]

Joe: [agreed, and allowed, it’s the obvious vibe but any untold drama can happen to stop you in whatever dodgy place so makes sense]

Ronnie: [literally and just because you can’t shoot up together yet does not mean either of you have to be in any way sober so]

Joe: [hundo, we’re not saying he’s never done a drug lol, he clearly abuses his prescription as is so like, there’s plenty to be done without going there]

Ronnie: [and if we wanted to we could say that you watch her do it here and now before you do it together anyway because you’d both get a weird kick out of that]

Joe: [tea, bet you did not see this coming for your uni experience lmao]

Ronnie: [meanwhile she’s old enough to have left, do you wanna grow up babe? No? okay]

Joe: [the way you’re rolling with this, we know you’re fucked boy but pop off]

Ronnie: [I can’t overstate how much she’d be doing the absolute most to try and scare him away like I dare you to go back on what you said]

Joe: [we know you’re not gonna, soz babe, is very rude how he’s just waltzed in but truly did not say we were a good person lol]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not either and also is here for it more than she will ever express until we’re literally years into this]

Joe: [hi your mother’s daughter, but no, you actually have a reason this is messed up but we’re into it from the off and not pretending, risky af strategy boy]

Ronnie: [is there anything we wanna say happens that has lasting-ish consequences other than the make out/ almost hook up ie a tattoo or a fight with injury potential or an arrest lol]

Joe: [hmm, the possibilities, maybe a fight to show you can, could be about anything, it’s that sort of place]

Ronnie: [that is such a mood I love it and yeah could literally be you’re a new face or could be her fault because of the aforementioned doing the most]

Joe: [totally, and that’ll be an easy way to separate you and not meet until the next convo]

Ronnie: [exactly dr phil]

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dumbassscout · 4 years ago

Text

i see a lot of 13 yr olds on tumblr these days, so id like to share some advice i wish i had known using tumblr at age 13.

this is also probably not an original idea from me lol, someone has got to have done this before. i would usually put this under a cut but ive decided not to for now

be aware that this site is like NOTORIOUSLY harmful. you may think you’re above it or too mature for it to hurt you, but trust me, you aren’t. since you will probably not be stopped by that warning, maybe take some precautions/keep some stuff in mind to stay safe.

i had tumblr savior for my first experiences with the site. im pretty sure it still works and it’s regularly updated, so take a look into that. it blocks posts with certain keywords from being seen on your radar, and can also push/allow posts with other keywords to always be shown. i would advise getting it or a similar extension to custom block triggering/harmful content.

don’t put other/more popular users in your fandom/community on a pedestal. they’re people behind a blog, just like you are. don’t feel intimidated by the people in your own community, they are just people the same way you are a person. they can mess up at times, and so can you.

making friends is a great thing on this site, but keep an eye on new online friends’ behaviors. it is exciting to meet new people, but you want to be aware of toxic friends. same goes for your mutuals. overall, keep people on this site at an arm’s length until you’ve gotten to know them enough personally to know that they’re genuine people. as you get older you can relax on this, but as a young teen it’s better to be hyperaware than to be blissfully ignorant as you get hurt.

onto more broad things, your theme doesn’t have to be perfect. you dont have to make a custom html/edited html website theme for your blog, you can leave it as tumblr default. if you enjoy organizing that, then by all means go ahead! but don’t feel like it is necessary for your blog, most of the time you will get a new theme set up and check on it on a month and find that it actually looks terrible to you. if you’d rather just have it as a basic/default site, then that is perfectly normal.

your blog’s theme/topic is your choice, and can be uniquely you. some people have many blogs for many things, just a few, or just one with everything. it is up to you how you want to do it! the themes you choose, topics, are up to you. fads and trends are cool but finding what works for you personally is way more fun. your blog is supposed to be fun. you are supposed to enjoy using tumblr. don’t compromise that for a trend. make your blog(s) however you want, however it pleases you. it can feel pressuring to have a perfect blog, but it’s better to just make your appearance the way it would make you happy.

also, tag systems are awesome! but they are not necessary unless you’re tagging trigger warnings. always tag those! but i know a lot of people have personal tagging systems to organize their blog, which is totally cool! but again, personal tag systems are not necessary, and if they feel unnecessary to you, don’t use them. but again, tag triggering content, especially if you are asked to.

archiving/deleting/creating new blogs is a whole other process. some people like to start with a clean slate every time they switch to a new fandom, and let their old user be archived or deleted. this is perfectly respectable (and probably the right thing to do) personally, i just switch my blog over to whatever im feeling that month and people can unfollow if they no longer enjoy my blog (i dont have that big of a following on this blog). it’s really a personal decision, and if you want to restart your blog you will know when to/if you want to.

reblog art, but never “repost” it. aka dont take the image and post it on your own blog, just reblog it from the original poster. its common sense but not everyone knows? idk

if you end up having some or many followers, make sure to check yourself. appreciate your followers, respect them. they are people with blogs. just like you. don’t let a high number inflate your ego way out of proportion, it’s easy to fall into that sense of power.

respect people’s pronouns. even if you for some reason have a disagreement with them, or you don’t understand why/how their identity works, just use the correct pronouns that they ask you to. it costs you zero dollars and zero cents, and is incredibly respectful

as a young teen, don’t get involved/let yourself get buried in tumblr-wide discourse. examples of this include the bi vs pan debate, flag discourse etc. most ppl who i know who were attentive to things similar to that at a young age ended up being affected negatively by it. pay some attention to what pertains to you and also pay attention to what you can identify as right or wrong, but don’t let people’s opinions on your dash influence you in times of discourse. go and look at both sides of those kinds of debates if you’re interested, and form an opinion from there.

speaking of which, sometimes people will just post their takes on literally anything and youll come across it. take everything with a grain of salt unless there is links to proof (if applicable, not always needed). sometimes bad takes just havent had someone to reblog and disprove yet.

speaking of discourse, there is always discourse on this site in every fandom, every community. form your own opinions always, but keep your moral compass in mind. don’t compromise your morals and sense of right and wrong to enjoy certain fan-media. if something seems off, it probably is.

people make mistakes, and if someone did something kind of shitty/had a terrible take/belief (not irredemably shitty, those ppl do not need ur attention) and they genuinely apologize for the shit they did and learn from it, move on. leave some shit in the past, holding grudges isnt good for your mental health and people change. but again, always take things with a grain of salt.

you dont need a high follower count to get traction on your posts. it might help, but you can have a low follower count with high interaction or a high follower count with little to know interaction. the best advice i have is to tag what it is relevant to, whether it’s a fandom, aesthetic, etc and people who regularly check those tags will find it.

if you ever get anon hate for some reason, just delete it from ur inbox n move on. ppl who send anon hate want to see you post it and respond to it. if they said some really really MEAN shit though, it may be best to talk to a friend about it for comfort, or take a break from tumblr for a hot min. most importantly, report it, close your ask box/change it to no anonymous asks.

if at some point you choose to voice your opinion about a highly debated topic at the time, be aware that people who disagree might attack you for it. be aware, and be safe about it.

a lot of people swear by xkit. i have never used it in my life, but from the looks of it, it makes using tumblr so much more bearable. it breaks sometimes with tumblr updates, but apparently it’s worth it. again, look into it, but it’s not necessary to use the site.

do niche shit. start sideblogs without a plan in mind. make aus, make art, make writing, or make nothing at all. reblog the things you love wherever you want them to be reblogged. comment on people’s creations if you love them, they probably would love to hear how much you enjoyed it. appreciate how wonderful the better part of this site is, enjoy the free access to view and appreciate others’ creations and ideas.

i would put a lot more on here, but i feel like 20 is probably too much already. if anyone has anything to add, definitely rb with ur addition

overall, do the things you love on here, keep yourself safe, and be respectful of others.

#i dont shut up

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woildismyerster · 6 years ago

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Hi i know ive asked this before but you might not have seen it so i was wondrring if you could do a crutchie x reader were crutchie is a hufflepuff and the reader is a badass ravenclaw. I would really appreciate it if you u did luv ya 👋

Yeah, I saw it! I was on vacation for a week, and I always have at least 20 requests in my ask box, so I just didn’t get to it before you started worrying.

Madame Pomfrey sighed when you entered the Hospital Wing on a stretcher. “Again?”

“I had an idea,” you mumbled.

“A stupid one,” she said, eying the boils on your hands. She poked one; it opened up, a smelly blue liquid spilling out. “What did you do?”

“I had this idea in Potions - if I could find a way to make the body expel the smoke from a Pepperup Potion some other way -”

“More experimentation,” Pomfrey said. She saw a lot more of you than she wanted to. You had joked once that she should thank you; it must be nice to have interesting cases instead of basic healing, right?

She was not amused.

“Mr. Morris?” She shouted the name over her shoulder, jotting something down on her clipboard.

Crutchie, a Hufflepuff in your year, came out from behind a screen in the back of the hall of beds. He grinned at you for a second, but it dropped when he saw your hands. “Merlin, Y/N.”

“Merlin had nothing to do with this,” Pomfrey said with a sigh. “Here’s what I need you to do -”

She walked him through the steps. You listened carefully, but startled when you realized that she was putting Crutchie in charge of fixing you up. It wasn’t that you didn’t think he could; you had never realized that Pomfrey was the sort to delegate.

Crutchie turned to you, wand out. He shot you an apologetic smile. “I’m going to have to pop them.”

“Let’s get this over with.” You watched him poke the first. His eyebrows shot up when the blue billowed out. He said nothing, though he performed the Bubble-Head charm on the two of you to block out the smell.

“Did you do this, or did somebody do this to you?” His voice was warped by the bubble, but easily understood.

“Myself,” you said. “Potions.”

He laughed. “That’s, what, the third time this month?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Pomfrey offered me an internship,” he said with a hint of pride. “I’ve been on paperwork for a few weeks, but she’s ready to put me on the floor.”

“That’s awesome.” Really, it was impressive. “Maybe you could show me how to -”

“No.” When you startled, he gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Y/N. I’ve been given specific instructions not to enable you.”

“From Pomfrey?”

“And McGonagall. Flitwick. Dumbledore owled me.”

You laughed, surprised. “That’s ridiculous. It isn’t enabling me to show me how to -”

He poked anther boil, giving you a pointed look when it bubbled over. “Really? It isn’t enabling you if I give you the ability to clean up your own messes? You can honestly tell me that you wouldn’t make more messes?”

You mumbled something about messes being a subjective term, and he laughed.

You watched him work, curiosity winning out over disgust. In the back of your mind, it occurred to you that this was not the way you would normally want a boy to see you. Crutchie was too kind to make his disgust obvious, but you couldn’t imagine him looking at you now without remembering this. At the forefront of your mind, you thought about alternative ways to get rid of the smoke. Boils were not ideal.

Crutchie had come to the Ravenclaw table to grab a bit of toast, and he had stayed to talk to you.

“Have you ever had Hagrid in the Hospital Wing?” You slathered jam over your toast, trying to keep it from clumping in one spot. “I feel like he’s gotten himself in trouble before.”

“Pomfrey usually goes to him,” Crutchie said. “I don’t think he wants anybody to hear about what he’s doing down there.”

“What’s he doing?”

Crutchie looked around quickly, clearly wanting to keep others from hearing. “I don’t know, but he gets an awful lot of burns. Stings, sometimes. I heard her say once that Hagrid makes things.”

You felt yourself go starry eyed, but you couldn’t stop the excitement at the thought of it. “Creatures? He breeds his own creatures?”

“Y/N,” Crutchie said. His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“I should go down there.” You were talking more to yourself now, imagining combinations of creatures that may be compatible. “Maybe I could help. It isn’t illegal for me to do magic, after all, so maybe -”

Crutchie put a hand on your shoulder. “No. ��Don’t. I’m pretty sure that you’ve gotten enough detentions to get kicked out of school already. If you do something overtly against the rules, you’re toast.”

“Is that a pun?” Without pausing to get an answer, you shoved your breakfast in your mouth. “Nevermind. I’m going down there. If I get hurt, can I come to you directly? Don’t want to get caught, now.”

He groaned. “I never should have told you.”

“You’re wonderful,” you grinned. “I knew being your friend would make life more fun.”

“We’re friends?”

You paused, bag dangling from one hand. “Of course we are. You’re my partner in crime, now. It’s unavoidable.”

You dashed out of the Great Hall, hoping Hagrid would show you whatever he was hiding in the hut. As you left, you heard Crutchie muttering about making a mistake. When you peeked over your shoulder while pushing the door open, you saw a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“You really don’t want to be my partner,” you told Crutchie.

“I think I do,” he said.

“I get dreadful marks,” you said.

“You’re brilliant,” he scoffed. “Ravenclaw, through and through.”

He was right about that, but not in the way he thought. You did love to learn. Sometimes it felt like there was nothing human in you, just pulsing curiosity. It seemed as though if you weren’t careful, you would lose yourself in questions about how magic worked, and how you could improve it.

“It doesn’t translate into my homework,” you said. Why did he want to be your partner in NEWT level Charms? He surely wanted to do well, and you were not the way to get there.

“It does in mine,” he said confidently. “Between the two of us, we’re bound to do something smashing.”

“I’m very good at smashing,” you quipped, “but not in a good way.”

When he laughed, you knew you would have to give in. The fact that Crutchie wanted to be near you, even knowing how unpredictable your work was, was a magic that you did not understand.

“I have a very personal question,” you said. “It really isn’t any of my business, but I’d like to ask it anyway.”

Crutchie looked up at you over the bottle of Skele-Gro. You were sipping at a cup of it, avoiding his eyes. “Okay, shoot.”

“I just - you’re a really good Healer.”

“That isn’t a question,” he said, “but thanks.”

“And there are other very talented Healers,” you said. You grimaced when your right foot started to tingle again. It was at times like this that you regretted testing new spells on yourself. Maybe you should try to be more certain it would work, first. In a way, it had. You had been aiming for invisibility, and the bones in your foot were certainly gone. You had figured out the Pepperup Potion, so maybe this would be within reach, too.

“I’m not sure that you know what a question is, Y/N.”

“Why haven’t you healed your leg? Why didn’t somebody else heal your leg?” The questions made your chest ache. You wanted to know the answer; it had been eating at you since you met him first year. You usually weren’t great at knowing the boundaries of knowledge, but even you knew that you shouldn’t ask. Now that the two of you were friends, you just thought that maybe it would be okay.

“Ah,” Crutchie said. He studiously looked at the label of the Potion. “That.”

“You don’t have to answer -”

“This was as good as it got,” he said. “Kids can’t control their own magic, not at first. Sometimes it acts outside the person, but sometimes it acts inside.”

You felt sick. “You?”

“Me,” he agreed. “I was young, Y/N. Young and alone. The Healers weren’t really sure what I did, but my leg was ruined when I got to St. Mungos. A curse, maybe, or just some thoroughly destructive magic. They put it back together as well as they could, but the body is - it’s intricate.”

“So this is your healed leg,” you said. “This was the best they could do.”

“Yep.” His voice was light, and you couldn’t tell if he was upset that you asked. He nodded at his cane, leaning against the bed. “It’s not so bad. Some wizards magic their canes and staffs. I’ve got some serious potential with mine.”

“You could put your wand in it,” you said thoughtfully. “Hiding in plain sight.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

You didn’t bring up his leg again, though you did draw up plans for a cane to beat all others.

Crutchie beamed at the ‘O’ on the top of the Charms assignment. “And here you thought we’d make a dreadful team.”

You shrugged. “I kept it together for you.”

“Self control,” he said. “Who knew you had any?”

“I certainly didn’t.” You grinned back at him. The both of you knew that you got good marks on many things; it wasn’t surprising that you did well when you put your mind to it. “You’re making an honest Ravenclaw out of me, Crutch.”

“Hopefully not too honest. Wouldn’t want things to get boring.”

You laughed when he elbowed you. “Definitely not. I practically give the Hospital Wing a purpose, all on my own.”

“You keep it lively,” he agreed. “I would probably die of boredom if you stopped coming.”

He left for Transfiguration, leaving you with a dopey smile. It was the Hufflepuff in him, you told yourself. He just knew how to rub you the right way. He probably said the same things to everybody, and he probably meant them every time.

You did not shape up for everybody, though, which seemed like a more pressing thing to consider.

When you walked into the Hospital Wing, Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. That was good. She would have made this awkward. When you got up in the morning, it had been with the certainty that you were ready to put yourself out on a limb. If you were willing to risk physical pain - even death, occasionally - you ought to be able to risk emotional hurt. “Crutchie? You here?”

His head popped out from behind a curtain. “Y/N, again?” He walked out, eyes narrowing when he didn’t see an immediate ailment. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Well, nothing physical. I just needed to talk to you about something.”

He ran a hand through his hair, delight and duty warring on his face. “I shouldn’t - I’m working.”

“It’ll only take a second,” you promised. “Just a second, I swear.”

“Alright. What’s the matter?”

“I really like you,” you said. Straight to the point, as you were with everything else. “I fancy you something fierce, really. I thought you deserved to know.” Having said your piece, you turned to go. You wanted to know the answer to the question you hadn’t quite asked, but you thought you would give him time to come up with it.

“Wait.” Crutchie sounded like he was near laughing. “Aren’t you going to let me talk?”

“If you want,” you said, surprised. “Do you have something to say?”

“Just that I like you,” he said. He was beaming. “If you wanted to go to Hogsmeade for the next trip, that’d be great.”

“Amazing.” A slow, massive grin swept over your face. He liked you. He knew that you were a walking landmine, and that you liked being that way, and he still wanted to be in the blast zone. “I absolutely want that.”

“Y/N?” You had turned to go again, but Crutchie had taken on a playful tone. “Let’s try for something uneventful.”

“We can try.”

“I’ll bring a first aid kit, just in case,” he added.

You laughed. “That’s wise. I’m sort of a disaster.”

“But a wonderful one,” he said. He was practically glowing. “The best sort.”

You could work with that. A wonderful disaster. A disaster with a wonderful boy who didn’t mind cleaning up the wreckage.

#Newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies x reader #crutchie #crutchie x reader #crutchie morris #hogwarts AU #Ally writes

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ot5 · 7 years ago

Photo

@tllthesundies HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH!!!🎉💖🌸💞🎂✨💌💖💞💗🎊🎉🍾💗🎂💕💖✨🎊💖🌹🍾🎉💘💕💌🌻❤️✨🌷💞🎉❤️💝🎂💘

so for this special occasion i used my amazing photoshop paint skills to make u this taylourry manip since there’s an unfortunate lack of those:/ they’re baking you three (3) cakes how great is that😫 louis, of course, asked ‘how do you whisk’ all three times and taylor n harry just shared a look and fondly rolled their eyes at him. i like to imagine they were singing along to britney classics and also laughing about how louis’ album and lyrics will shake us to our core bc they live for that drama👀 and cant wait to watch us freak out. of course at some point louis started throwing flour at taylor &harry which ended up in a messy kitchen fight.

thanks for reading my mini taylourry fic excuse the lack of angst i kno you live for that shit but anyways as i was saying, happy birthday bith! i hope u have a great one!! i cant believe you've turned 20 today🤧 you were already settling down at the old age of 19 an now you’re entering the final Grandma stage *kylie jenner dabbing tears.gif* as an og violin i feel blessed to have followed ur journey and watched you grow up & to have experienced ur crazy crackhead days which i lowkey miss sometimes it was truly a blast with ur shit posts and you saying things that still haunt me in my sleep. since im getting Sentimental™ you know what else i miss in this chilis today? you getting asks & Interacting on here bc i recall thats what started my soft spot for u. you’re [louis voice] genuinely Genuinely one of the sweetest people ive seen on here like everytime you called someone crouton or replied with a row of heart emoji’s my heart grew 10 sizes bigger💗💗 i hate that my memory is shit and there’s no blog/archive anymore(rip in pieces we’ll get to that later) that i can search thru for those Receipts but i know not one (1) mean word has ever left your mouth, or keybord in this case, those are the Facts #confirmed by me! even back in the day when i was blissfully unaware of any drama and this hellsite was just a happy place u still stood out to me bc when you answered asks or whatever you were just so nice! kind! and sweet! and funny too i feel like u raised me on memes (i also appreciate that u tolerate me w my crusty sense of humor and memes from 2013) and tbh when i saw you were younger than me i was Shook bc you felt like an older sister to me with wise words and just this calm&kind presence on tumblr dot com where everyone always takes offense u were idk the word..... rational/nuanced/patient/understanding? ive thought it many times before but if everyone here were a bit more like you this place would be a nice valley filled with blossoming flowers sawying in a gentle breeze on a warm spring day🌻🌷🌸 (i know u prefer fall so u can represent a Quality Leaf too if u want and i’ll ship you w niall #neaf) anyway as my melancholic ass was saying, i sometimes miss @harryandlouisofficial /harryandlouisau? idk you’ve had your fair share of changes(as i was searching through my own blog for a certain pic i came across some deactivated urls that i think were yours lsdknvds) but that harryandlouis brand™ was truly You and just such a familiarity on my dash and tbh if i come across any blogs that start w harryandlouis im always side eyeing them for that copyright infringement of intellectual property. Even before we really started talking i already felt like i knew you bc you were always....out there...talking, yellin n sprouting bullshit which was [me as that gif of pam from the office tearing up] beautiful😫 like i didnt even know about the existence of the vampire diaries but u were practically screaming about it on a daily basis and lowkey got me to crush on nina dobrev bc of it also ur love for tom odell, soup, domestic hl, Angst, the midnight memories album, that purple suit harry wore to the late late show, birdy, those literature ppl whose names im not even gonna bother with, and of course taylourry & how do you whisk, they’re all filed under ‘Things That Belong To Violet’ and i kno yelling about thing or reblogging ask memes or doing those tag things doesnt go with ur Brand but i wish it did bc there’s so much i wanna know or ask or just see what you think about things👀 u could make a post saying ‘potato’ and eventho id disagree id still be over here giving a standing ovation

this is getting long im so sorry snlkdfnsld i was going somewhere but im kinda losing the plot. So anyhow the point was that ur an angel! and idk also intimidating to me back in the day? ive sent my fair share of anons (nice ones of course nskldnsf) and i vaguely rmr asking for advice a few times too and you were always so kind n wonderful🤧 and then one day i sent smth nice off anon and you followed me back even with the ugly ass url i had back then lfnvslknsd bless you and now here we are:) so i love getting sentimental and reminiscing about the old days but also know that i admire u for jus deleting and starting afresh! kween of rebranding!👏👏 and this tiddiesundays era feels like ur a professional business woman or maybe more like a professional writer who has that clean & calm aesthetic down to a T and i might’ve turned notifs on so i wont miss that one quality (1) post per day sdlknlksdn i love showing my Love thru liking and rb’ing a lot so you make it hard on me sometimes(rmr when we were each other biggest fans? good times😫) but jus kno my heart’s still beating the same yes thats a sad attempt at a oial ref bc that is also filed under the things that belong to u. i dont wanna like, overwhelm? you bc im sometimes afraid ill b too much but know that im always out here rooting for u &hoping that ur doing great bc this bitch has a lot of love and adoration for u!!💗 i know some v sweet people on here but you are just.....on another level like just your presence here clears my skin and puts a big smile on my face esp when u drag me or vice versa for having certain Opinons (like the 1d album or song discourse) dont @ me but ur truly one of my favorite people. One day when you give me the go ahead im gonna send you that card/letter and i’ll get even sappier (yes thats possible!) i was gonna wish you a sunny day but for some reason u love rain so...i hope it rains:’) or else you can move your ass over here so at least one of us can appreciate the dutch weather also i would toast to you but i think ur still not legally allowed to drink which is also a reason to get ur ass over here bc i feel like you’d be a blast to get drunk with (also shout out to you for indulging me in my wine aunt moments u were truly there for me when no one else was🤧came thru with lyrics to tmh bops faster than lightning ill never forget that!) so to conclude this Essay i lov u & hope u have an amazing birthday *serenades you with tom odell songs*💗💕💖💘💗💕💖💝💗💞💘💕💞💖💕💗💝💖💘💞💕💗

#*cracks knuckles* HERE WE GO #u better make yourself a cup of tea and get some snacks this is gonna be a long ride #i feel like i had a clear outline of things i wanted to say but ended up forgetting all of that and instead we got.......this #this MESS violet sweetie im so sorry #i kno this is v Extra already but im gonna be highkey annoyed with myself if tomorrow something pops in my head like shoot i forgot to #mention that! so i might add to the tagsnslkdnvdls idk i love an excuse to show all my love and appreciation😫 and this is IT #also im sorry for being so late this took me a While bc im incapable of simple cutting n pasting in paint or putting my thoughts into words #me: i need to stop this is Too Much #also me: but is it enough?

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onceuponaprincessworld · 7 years ago

Text

CaptainSwan Florist AU Recs

lHello Captain Swan Fandom, I ‘ve read some great florist stories lately and I thought to make a list to to thank all those lovely people for writing them. Hope you enjoy! 🌷🥀🌻🌺🌼 🌸💐🌹

Multichapter

Complete

Stains of Ink, @terreisa

Emma Swan is a tattoo artist who believes her life is perfect the way it is and there's no need for anything more. Killian Jones is a florist whose been dealt several blows in life but is slowly salvaging his life from the wreckage. All it takes is meeting each other to find that, sometimes, it takes another person to complete a happy ending. A modern Captain Swan AU.

Open Your Eyes, @montanarosalie

Killian leads a lonely life growing flowers. Emma hadn’t seen color in a long time

Unfinished Business, @ive-always-been-a-pirate

Having her bakery on the block adjacent to that stupid floral shop had always been so frustrating for Emma Swan. It was just her luck that the place's owner, an arrogant Irishman named Killian Jones, thrived on pressing her buttons and making life as a small business owner so complicated. So what will happen when two stubborn people unexpectedly start mixing business with pleasure?

bright light in the sky, athena3062

Modern AU. Killian Jones wants to put the past behind him, to sell the house he’s never called home. After her father’s death, Belle French is struggling to keep the family flower shop afloat. And Emma Swan never planned to run a hardware store on Main Street but she doesn’t waste time wondering about what might have been. In a little Maine town, the clock tower is a bright star, guiding their way home.

Wip

Don't Buy Me No Flowers, @a-fictional-life

A chance meeting over a crushed bouquet of roses is enough to convince Killian Jones that Emma Swan is the woman for him.

One-shots

The Dashing Florist, @like-waves-on-the-beach

Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Only The Lonely (Know The Way I Feel), ArtjuiceRP

It only takes a single moment to change your life. After years shut off from anyone else, Killian Jones, a reclusive florist on the outskirts of town, starts to see a little more warmth in the world again.

Somehow We Seem to Have Lost Our Way, ArtjuiceRP

It's been five years since Killian Jones last spoke to his brother and now he's coming to visit. (Sequel to 'Only the Lonely (Know the Way I Feel)').

Subtle and Nuanced, @phiralovesloki

Killian Jones has an unusual relationship with a neighbor in which they exchange notes via cat. He’s also slowly falling for his flower shop’s newest customer. Surely these two things are unrelated.

The Little Shop across the Street, @lenfaz

I work at a flower shop and you're a tattoo artist from across the street and you always come in here to practice drawing flowers and you're really hot - written for a CSSV exchange on tumblr.

Love has a quiet voice, @icapturedkindness

Emma’ four year old Henry gets quite smitten by the new florist Killian Jones. With each visit to the florist for flower lessons, is it really Henry who is practically in love with the guy or his stubborn mother?

Granny's Flower Cart, @mryddinwilt

Emma works in a flower shop. Killian is a customer. Christmas romance. The idea came from those BTS pictures of the Christina Perri video with Colin in winter wear at a flower shop.

evergreen, @piratesails

"I rented the apartment above your flower shop and in the last two months you've gotten a new flower I’m allergic to so I keep buying bouquets until I can figure out which kind it is."

Motley Arrangement, @tnlph

Emma's new customer buys a flower a day, and while she's not exactly staying in business with his visits, she doesn't exactly mind.

How Does Your Garden Grow, @theadventureofhistorygirl

A chance meeting with Mary Margaret Nolan in a juvenile detention floral design class sets Emma Swan on the path to being a florist. A rehabilitation program for disabled veterans gives Killian Jones his start in horticulture. Neither one ever imagined picking those paths, but they'll lead to each other. But can they keep the harder aspects of life from tearing them apart?

The Twelve Days of Lilies: A Flower Ship AU, @loving-cs-fanfiction

He walks by her flower shop every day at 7:15 am. His head is tilted down as he listens to whatever is on his iPod that morning, mouthing the words and nodding his head to the music. He never sees her, but she sees him, because she just so happens to be watering the hydrangeas by the front window at that time. Every morning.

It takes him about 15 steps to cross in front of her window, and then he’s at the bookstore he owns next door. It’s a quaint place – she’s never been there, but it looks quaint from the outside – selling half priced books of every genre. It seems to generate enough business, though, because she sees lots of customers come into the flower shop with “Jones Books” bags filled with used novels and stories.

Across the street (but just out of reach), @dammmithardison

I saw a post on tumblr about a tattoo artist/florist au and decided to make it into a cs fic.

now i’m yours to choose, @misslizanne

’m a florist and you keep buying flowers from me and what do you mean it was my fault we didn’t get together earlier you were buying flowers i assumed you had a lover au""

#cs ff #cs rec ff #cs rec fic #cs rec list #my rec list #fic rec #cs fanfiction #cs ff rec #CS fanfics #CS fic rec #CS fic #captain swan fic rec

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elane-in-the-shadows · 7 years ago

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Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse part 11

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

A/N: Finally, the long-awaited (by me) wedding chapter. If you don’t like my OCs, skip the first half. Then Maven appears, what rare occasion ;-) Fashion pics are at the end.

Cassandra POV

The crown weighs heavy on my head although it’s made only of sakura twigs and blossoms, the pale pink petals matching the light shade of my silk dress.

All guests of my brother Hagen Eagrie’s wedding with Larissa Welle wear flower crowns today. The bride’s grown and shaped them herself, and put them on every brow, having chosen them carefully to match the guests’ clothing and preferences. More flowers wind along the walls and corners of the Eagries’ large mansion in Archeon, other bouquets are carefully arranged in numerous vases placed on pillars.

The smell should be overwhelming but it isn’t. Lari’s too great a mistress of her greenwarden ability, so I suppose she created the flowers especially not to have a strong odour. Yet their perfume is ever-present – and pleasant, at least to me. The smell changes slightly the closer I move to the garden, probably intentionally as well. Maybe a metaphor for the seasons; I haven’t asked Lari yet. It’s another artwork among the many she designed for her wedding to be impressive and unique. As the flowers’ smell is contributed to her groom: Since Hagen is unable to see the decorations, Lari made it possible to sense them in other ways.

Just makes me wonder what the food will be like.

I gather my skirt in my hand as I descend the stairs to the reception hall. The dress is unusual to me, hence I’m most likely lifting it too high. The gown widens along my thighs but it’s tight otherwise, urging me to ponder how to fight in it. I chide myself for the thought but it’s less for paranoia than for the wish to protect this dress from damage that I make such considerations. It becomes me marvellously. Short, frilly sleeves, a low cleavage, the tightness accentuating both my curves and my muscles while enabling me to dance. The seams have a more intense colour, a vibrant fuchsia; it’s the same shade I chose for my lipstick and eyeliner. Sakura are embroidered on the skirt, following the colour pattern of pale pink, fuchsia, and every shade in between as the yarns fade from intense into pastel.

All in all, it’s simple but the most beautiful gown I’ve ever worn.

I catch a glimpse of someone standing at the foot the stairs and I almost stumble when I notice it’s Sorata. He smirks at my efforts to remain ladylike. He’s as much a gentleman in his swallow-tailed coat, despite being a Red. What the right clothing can do for you – how many “noble” guests will be confused by his presence, and rightly so. He’s better than them and deserves to be my partner at the wedding party. And more. He’s dressed to match my outfit. Where I carry a crown of pink cherry blossoms, he wears white ones while his cravat and pocket square show pink embroidery. It’s obvious for anyone looking close enough that we are … together.

He bows and kisses my hand, slightly more serious. I curtsey in response and fail, my knees pointing in the wrong directions. He laughs until he coughs. “Unused to formalities, Cassie?”

“Tsk.” But I giggle as well. “I’ll have to train before the queen arrives.”

“I suppose she values your other skills more,” he says. “But I am content as long as I receive your first dance.”

“I promise.” He pulls me close for a faint kiss, then guides me down the corridor to the garden where the ceremony will take place. There’s no one else, so I’m wondering if we’re late and the guests have already arrived, with only the bride and groom to show up.

“Are you ready for a grand entrance?” I ask.

He sighs. “Whenever else will we have the chance – “ he trails off and stops walking, turning us sideways to another pillar in an oriel.

It displays a wreath for a guest, braided from poppies and cornflowers. Simple plants, but their orange and blue colours are as brilliant as fire.

“That’s hers,” I breathe. “Firebird’s. Lacey’s.”

He nods. We stare at the crown dedicated to my absent cousin, either a hostage or a collaborator of the Scarlet Guard, depending on the perspective. Sorata leans against me, his hand skimming my neck as he whispers in my ear. “You’ve heard from her?”

“Only that she’s alive. And occupied, whatever that means.”

He inclines his head and kisses my cheek. “They trust me more,” he says quietly. “The king is rumoured to return here soon, and Archeon might become a target again.”

He draws away, smiling like he didn’t talk treason a second ago. “Excited for the ceremony, madam?”

“Of course I am, Mr. Ives.” And I mean it. At least Lari and Hagen will have this before all hell will break loose.

Indeed, the garden is already filled with guests seated on filigree chairs. Ribbons fixed on poles create the illusion of a room and a roof on the meadow-like green although breezes and sunbeams filter through. We have a magnificent weather for September and the approaching autumn is only announced by the golden and reddening foliage on the trees farther off. My family stands at the front and we part to join them, each of us going along one outer side of the congregation; the middle aisle is reserved for the bridal couple.

I hug my oldest brother Roman with a grin before I take my position. I haven’t seen him for a month. Now he and I stand on the left side while Mother’s on the right, with Sorata behind her. Her assigned companion has still to arrive. She doesn’t wear a suit or other casual clothes today, it’s like she wants to dress as rich and festive as the other nobles for once: She’s swathed in black tulle as voluminous as a black cloud. I’ve helped her to pin up her yellow hair in an elaborate fashion but our efforts are barely visible beneath her wreath of white lilies with small black markings.

Roman wears white asters and I notice that every small movement of his is as graceful as ever, a generous inheritance from his Iral grandmother. But even formally dressed in a suit with a necktie, he manages to look like a punk, a rocker with electrum jewellery gleaming on his ears, hands and chest, and the tattoos engraved on the brown skin of his neck and left hand. His black hair stands up in every direction like he just walked through a storm and his white shirt hangs over his slacks.

But that’s exactly his charm. Despite his height, he resembles his long-dead father a lot. He and Hagen share his colouring with brown skin and black hair but Roman has Mother’s dark eyes and inherited his father’s handsome, hawkish features as well. And his ability of course, the Eagrie foresight.

Yet all three of us siblings are Mother’s children and that shows. She’s a person who always gets what she wants and we adapted the confidence from her. Roman with his seer ability never makes a wrong move; be it in battle, life or art. I always fight for the win, dismissing the chance of losing to begin with. While Mother has never wanted Hagen to doubt himself for his disability and made him believe in what he can do. Although wandering through people’s dreams in his sleep is generally considered as a freak ability, he’s come to live both in aethereal dreams and in the flesh to his capacity. All the more a reason for Mother to be happy and proud of him today.

When the queen arrives at last, the whole congregation rises and bows or curtseys and I manage to lift my skirt almost exactly to the right level. I raise my eyes just in time to catch Sorata winking at me. Queen Iris walks around the seats like we did, with her ambassador Isabella and the bodyguard Richard Rhambos behind her. Richard serves in my place yet as he’s related to Hagen as well, I wonder if he might’ve wished to attend too.

Iris takes the place next to Mother. She curtseys again, kisses the queen’s hand and reaches for the wreath Lari prepared for the queen – blue-violet iris flowers, an obvious choice for the queen’s name. Yet Iris smirks courtly upon receiving another crown while Mother says something in the Lakelands tongue, eager to show off her knowledge and skills. The queen’s smile widens a bit and I wander if Mother said something funny or if Iris’s just delighted to hear her mother tongue. Naturally, her gown stands out even among the nobility. Dark blue flowery lace is interwoven with silver threads and beads. It’s another dress with a long skirt on the backside but an open front, turned into a kind of catsuit as her legs are dressed in the same rich fabric ending over her sparkling pumps.

The congregation rises. Bride and groom enter together, arm in arm. They walk down the carefully prepared aisle of rich, dark soil. Lari’s gown has no train, nor does she wear a veil or a flower crown herself. Instead she displays fanciful, butterfly-like eye-makeup and flowers woven into her dark brown hair which falls down her back. Following an old tradition, her bridal gown is white, with embroideries in the green and gold of her house along with numerous blossoms placed on it in a detailed pattern. She’s barefoot and in place of a train, buds of daisies, poppies, asters, cornflowers, chamomiles, wild roses and many more arise as she goes down the aisle.

My brother looks dashing besides her - even though she grabs all attention. Larissa’s chosen him a laurel crown with an elaborate black coat, vest and white shirt as usual, velvet and frilly in the same style that his grandfather, Julius Eagrie, prefers. Instead of a big tie or a black cravat with lace in the Eagrie colours, Hagen’s necktie is violet, with an interwoven iridescent pattern in purple and fuchsia. “Hagen needs a more special colour,” Lari told me in the dressing room when my hand glided over the silk tie. “Like you do.” Then she winked at me, who’s not bound no a house colour for my lack of a high house.

With cheers, the guests take their places again as the ceremony begins and the queen herself gives her blessing to the union.

Larissa’s planned and arranged every little part of her wedding, and she’s made it to perfection; without ever losing her nerves or her smile. The glass-ceilinged hall the dinner and dances are to take place in is just another demonstration of rare and impressing botany combined for the utmost effect. Lari tries to personify life and beauty and lets everyone forget in what times we live in, as if not so many of us have lost someone. But still. She was never meant to be a warrior or a queen as that is her cousin Heron’s due, the house lord’s daughter. The girl is here as well and forcing a smile, maybe perturbed that two Silvers marry for love and not for prestige. Yet in ability, Larissa excels nonetheless, and she might be able to grow food for the whole capital on a field the size of the gym with the right fertilizers. She knows all about her vast collection of seeds for crops, flowers and other plants. She showed one of those produces to me mere two days ago, when we partied in anticipation of the wedding in one of the few remaining bars in Archeon.

“Usually, I don’t smoke,” I reminded her.

“But I strongly recommend this one,” Lari answered smirking. I had one draw and it was a sensational experience though I’m uncertain whether I want to repeat it. Drugs unsettle me.

When the dancefloor is opened, I give the first waltz to Sorata, as I promised. We’re swaying among the Silver nobles, most of them relatives or Maven and Iris’s favourite allies. Most of them don’t know what to make of us, or of this festivity as a whole. A Red dances amid them with me, the bastard commoner girl, while my mother, half outsider by association, half trusted advisor to their majesties, doesn’t bat an eye. The groom is a blind man with a freak ability yet the queen herself attends and married him to his bride. Thus, the nobles put on their frozen smiles and clap when appropriate, lest they are deemed second-guessing their rulers.

They might as well boil and drown in their pretends and prejudices. In the end, no one has forgotten they – Maven – have already lost against the Scarlet Guard and the Rift. Even though a part of me is afraid. For my family and the friends I’ve found. What will war and change do to these people, this place? But the change can’t be stopped either way, and possibly, it’ll mean I can dance with Sorata as often and openly as we want, without him fearing the discovery of his ability or any brutal whim of Silvers.

The music stops and we part like all dancing couples. He smiles and asks, “one more?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Roman almost runs into me after four rounds. “Untypical for you,” I chastise him.

“But I wanted to surprise you,” he retorts. “May I dance with you for once, dear sister?”

“Is it that special piece of music?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“It is.”

Grinning, I take his hands as Danse Macabre begins to play. We haven’t practised recently, but we danced to this music often enough, as a mean of training and to show off our abilities combined. We forgo the lifting steps yet draw attention anyway. “The ladies are staring at the rare sight of you, Roman,” I say panting, “Still not interested in marriage and children?”

He only laughs in response.

“Nor any new love in sight?” I inquire further.

“Ah no, Cassie. I’m a happy bachelor.” But he sighs. “The time with Reuben still carries fond memories.” He seems slightly melancholic. Maybe because I can see Reuben Osanos, his boyfriend for two years, standing at the edge of the dancefloor. They broke up eight months ago.

Later on, we lounge on a chaise longue when Lari jumps up out of a sudden, pulling me up with her, only to lower into a curtsey. Tired from feasting, my attention isn’t as perfect as usual, but I notice our high guest quickly enough. The king – awfully underdressed in his ragged uniform – is walking along the central aisle of the hall and the queen goes to him in greeting while the rest of wedding congregation displays their reverence.

Half of us must be laughing under their breaths. King Maven, returning to Archeon’s court after months of absence, crashes a wedding as if to make up for the ruination of his own. Iris plays along, her smile showing more amusement than it should from mere politeness.

Lari is having none of it. When she rises from her curtsey, she takes my brother’s arm and together, they go to meet the monarchs, me following behind.

“We are most honoured by your presence at our wedding, Your Majesties,” Hagen says and Lari beams in her characteristic way, so enticing that Maven bows to her and kisses her hand.

My new sister-in-law is too much of a perfectionist to let her wedding get crashed. She’s the queen of this party, ruling over small-talk, aesthetics and good taste. Yet I muse why she doesn’t offer him a left-over laurel crown so he doesn’t stand out so much. In the end, even Mother abstains from joining the little group around the royals, probably avoiding to broach the sinister topics of her double play with both Maven and her Rift-allied Haven relations. She’s even invited cousin Elane, but the Rift’s princess hasn’t appeared.

Larissa guides us back to the corner from before, now including the royal party and thus clearly intending us to sit down in a more formal way. In a circle, Iris and Maven sit next to each other, I’m at Iris’s, Larissa’s at Maven’s other side, with Hagen between us. Iris frowns at the sight of Larissa’s special “cigarettes”, but she remains silent about them, picking one of her fancy little juices while Larissa and Maven talk, soon switching to politics.

“… so, if you don’t mind to postpone your honeymoon, my lady, would you serve Norta with your ability?” Maven asks suggestively. As always. He’d make a good merchant, talented at selling you everything. But he is a king and this takes it to a whole new level. Lari keeps on smiling and chatting but she holds Hagen’s hand tightly.

“I do not want to urge and hurry you, my lady, but we should start quickly with growing more crops, which would be greatly helped by your skills,” he continues.

“I am proud to be recognized by Your Majesty,” Lari replies. “I will help you gladly.”

Iris rolls her eyes at her exaggerated politeness but she’s distracted by a new glass of juice put before her. I’m startled to see Sorata serving her and Maven while he’s already dashing off. It’s one of his games to play pretend with the highest Silvers, now that he’s again forced to hide his importance and our closeness. And consequently, Maven doesn’t even notice the Newblood spy who’s able to steal his ability with a touch. Instead he asks Iris about her juice.

She shrugs. “It’s good, try it.”

“It’s … exotic.”

It delivers the perfect prompt for Lari to describe her efforts again, having grown the juices’ rare fruits especially for the queen – upon my suggestion as the queen never drinks alcohol. “I’m sure you’re the best to produce food for Norta, my lady,” Maven compliments her. “Yet, the season demands …”

“The season does not matter to me, Your Majesty. Earth, water, seeds and some fertilizers are enough.”

“But,” Iris wonders, “how can you reap the whole of your fast-growing crops? My lady?”

“My queen, we have enough field workers with the choke front disbanded,” Maven says.

“We do not even need many field workers, Your Majesties,” Lari informs them. “The plants I think of are easily reaped with machines.”

“Provided by our loyal techies?” inquires Hagen, unsettling Maven, but the king nods after a second. Iris gives him a shove.

“Indeed, my lord,” Maven adds, though still befuddled.

Larissa laughs. “How unfortunate the traitor prince only saw engineering as a hobby,” she says, the mention of Tiberias changing the mood immediately. Lari enjoys to play with the fire of the banished royal’s reputation and laughs again. “But, of course he did, since when has he ever been useful?”

Her mocking afterthought might “prove” her loyalty but the playfulness has left our group. Intentionally, I suspect. While the conversation becomes awkward, Larissa and Hagen kiss and cuddle like the newly-wed bride and groom they are, as if to remind everyone of the reason for this event.

The two monarchs decide to leave soon after. Iris beckons me to follow them as if I’m only here as their bodyguard. I don’t protest, sparing myself for more important battles. So I merely watch Iris and Maven walking out of the hall with grand ceremony, hand in hand like this procedure lies in the blood of both of them, the one thing bonding them together more than everything else.

“Seasons?“ Iris blurts out, back in their office. She stands with her arms crossed and faces the windows.

The king leans back in his chair, as comfortable as possible in a room inlaid with silent stone. He shrugs. “Autumn is approaching. It’s better to have matters done before winter.”

“Neither my soldiers, nor you and I, can be bothered by cold weather,” Iris insists. But whatever her point is supposed to be, it makes Maven tense. He turns his chair and stares at his wife. She stares back but no words fall for a minute.

The king clears his throat. “You don’t need to be worried about warfare and terrible living conditions?” asks he.

Iris bites her lip. Then sighs. Finally, the corners of her mouth twitch. “If you put it like that – no. I … would be worried.”

His jaw drops. He mutters something and gestures, but stops himself before his fist hits his desk. Although I can smell smoke.

The queen glares.

“I am sorry, Iris,” Maven replies. “I apologize, I haven’t thought it would come so far.”

“But it has,” she insists and while I piece together the meaning behind their polite niceties, I don’t want to believe it, even as I bring back to mind what she told me two months ago. “We have to think of the future, of House Calore, of Norta, and - our alliance.”

I don’t want to be here at all. I want to fall into a hole and die.

But Iris remembers my presence. She comes to me, smiling, but it is her queenly face. “You have sworn to protect me, Captain Griffey,” she proclaims. “Now swear to protect the heir as well.” She says it so formally, neutral and regally, as if this is just a usual matter of state, not her own child.

Yet I curtsey once more in my beautiful gown and do as she commands, pushing away my own thoughts.

Maven rises at the same moment as I. “As this was your plan, my queen,” he utters, “I leave it to you to make announcements when you see fit.”

“I am grateful for your trust,” she replies sarcastically when he’s already on his way to the door. Then he stops and looks at me.

“You’re dismissed for the night, Captain. There’re enough sentinels in the palace.”

Obviously, he thinks if one has to leave, it should be me, not him. I curtsey again but walk away slowly, curiousity taking the better of me.

I glimpse Iris approaching her husband and patting his shoulder and chest.” We both know how it is to walk on determined paths,” she reminds him. “We choose them still.”

I hear his answer just before I close the door. “I thought I could change them. The monarchy. Everything. I really did … believe …”

A/N: If you read my other fics, or chapter 4 of this one, you would’ve been warned ^^°

� 2Wc

So you can imagine the whole thing better, here're some fashion porn photos <3

Cassandra: something between those two plus frilly sleeves (and not cut)

Larissa: I have more than 50 dresses for her this is the best though I miss the golden embroidery >_<

Hagen (totally wrong colour ugh):

Charlotte (Cassie's mum): okay but this is 100 % as I imagine it

Iris: too much cleavage I know though I admit I imagined Iris's dress after I saw this one

d @clarafarleybarrow @mareshmallow @lilyharvord @redqueenfandom @inopinion @spookysamos @hannaharies @red-queen-united @ssingerqueen @runexandra @iris-cygnets

#red queen fan fiction #red queen #war storm #red queen fanfiction #maven calore #blood curse #blood curse ch 11 #war storm fan fiction #original character #iris cygnet #cassandra griffey #larissa welle #sorata ives #hagen eagrie #roman eagrie

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ingloriousbi · 7 years ago

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ive been trying to figure out some stuff and i think maybe im just against any kind of feminism or self~care~ or whatever that doesnt establish agency as priority starting point towards change. there is no point in understanding your behaviour and coping mechanisms stemming from patriarchy or trauma or mental illness or any number of things if understanding your behaviour isnt the stepping stool towards changing it.

there is no point in recognizing “i wear make-up bc patriarchy” or “i take a man’s last name in marriage bc of patriarchy” if the next step thought isnt “and i should stop doing that”; if you just seek to ingrain the behaviour with “but its my choice i do what i want/its artistic expression/its a hobby/im different” all it does is consolidate norms that are deeply linked to oppressive structures. you cant seek to dismantle patriarchy if you dont actually... dismantle it. you cant say patriarchy does x, but when i do x its feminism bc a woman does it. thats not how that works. you need to take agency in changes that you presumably want to see; we cant stop at just recognizing/understanding it, we need to take the next step towards and active stance/attitude whatever. we need to prioritze agency. a persons own responsibility towards actions.

its fine if you dont define feminism as “dismantling patriarchy/oppressive social structures” but thats the trendy definition and its been co-opted and misunderstood the same way intersectionality has been, or the understanding of gender as performance has been, etc. etc.

but if ur out here claiming to want to dismantle patriarchy and arent dismantling its tools then like... congrats, ur achieving nothing. ur just blowing hot air out of your mouth hole and that kind of hypocrisy drives me nuts. theres loads of conversations about “i shave bc its my choice” and very little about “i dont want to shave anymore, and i go long periods where i dont, but during summer i struggle and sometimes give in and shave bc im afraid” or whatever. very little conversation on actual change, any issues we may run into with those decisions, and help/motivation to continue trying to change. but loads of discussion of “its ok if u shave bb” - same with make up, “weaponised femininity”, and this kind of discussion shit is present on loads of levels of feminist discourse, lgbt discourse, etc

and thats even more frustrating when you look at trauma/mental illness/self-care etc. because loads of people make the step of “I did behaviour x, which i didn’t want to do, as a result of mental illness/trauma y and that isnt my fault” but they never make the next step towards “its not my fault, but if i want to get better it is still my responsibility to change behaviour x” - loads of people are willing to stop the cycle of self-guilt and self-blame which is good, but are rarely willing to move beyond that and take the steps to change, bc if its not their fault why would they? and i know everyone around me is early/mid 20s but i dont think thats an excuse not to have some sort of critical thinking ability or to get comfortable and complacent in your own behaviours or politics. they arent 16. never changing the passive mentality of “i dont want to be mentally ill” to the active mentality of “i want to get better” - very few people if any actually... look for ways to help themselves. like my therapist complimented me on my healthy coping mechanisms that i taught myself and i was confused but in the years since then i guess ive finally seen that most people dont actually.. do that. and as a result ive just been frustrated and short and im not even able to show what little empathy i have anymore.

and idk but i think thats the thing thats been bothering me for a very long time and i was having trouble kind of finding the vocabulary to name it

anyway so i unfollowed a bunch of people again bc i aint abt seeing that kind of shit on my dash but i did see it and it did bother me and here i am ranting abt it

#personal #maybe i just need to learn to let go of things /s #i keep unfollowing people who post this kind of feminist or self care stuff but i feel like im unfollowing an unending amount of people #every couple of months theres a round of unfollowing bc im Tired of that Content but apparently i end up following others who also post it?#idk #ignore this probably

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kvltprince · 7 years ago

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@coldestcaress tagged me to answer some questions

10 Questions

1. The very first fanfiction you’ve read: what, when, why, feelings?

you realize this was in the mid 90s somewhere. prob some gundam wing or saiyuki. but i think ive run into some printed zine thing from star trek way earlier that my uncle had. i read EVERYTHING til i was about mid 20s.

2. Do you wear a fragrance? what’s the scent baby?

patchouli, amber, sandalwood, dash of rose. as a oil. (most of the new lines of old spice, classic old spice, or axe anarchy for deodorant)

3. You are reading a very smutty fic in a public transportation, when suddenly (gasp!) you realize the person next to you is reading over your shoulder… how do you react?

prob ignore it. its their eyes and brain dealing with whatever. besides if anyone continued to read anything id bother to read at this point they deserve to get their minds fried from the dissonance between what ill read and what i generally appear as.

4. you already have Christmas-y stuff up?

my wreathe and garland never were taken down. i want to decorate but not sure what i want to do. this place feels stale.

5. Which Hogwarts house are you in? How do you feel about it?

idk. more puff than snake than id like to admit though.

6. share your favourite quick dinner recipe?

i uh. am real bad at quick. big fan of crock pot type things though(curies and other saucy things). usually it is season and fry (coconut oil) some sort of frozen chicken + green bean or spinach. sometimes with leftover rice or something.

7. Last movie you’ve watched in a theatre?

have i even seen anything since men who stare at goats?

8. what did you have the last time you went out for dinner?

out with b an ben. i got beef mushroomand bamboo shoots after a long thinking and considering between that and the garlic death tofu. was really good.

9. Ever shaved your hair (or part of it)? Would you?

uh yes. it has just begun to grow out for real fro that and i am about to shave my bangs (prob long though. 1 inch or so attachment i think)

10. worst job?

cleaning hotel rooms. they wanted me to clean everything in 10 min or less. my adhd ass didnt do well with that shit even though it was *almost* fun and interesting sometimes. (aka ‘omfg what the fuck happened in here. guess im calling management. vs meeting lots of interesting people during bluegrass week/bike week/the fair)

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quetzalcoatlus-northropi · 8 years ago

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i was tagged in one of them “choose this or that” memes by jamie and its under the cut so if youre on mobile im sorry you have to scroll through it all

1. Coke or Pepsi: i always pick coke but let me confess to you...... that i almost cant tell the difference and i also always pick the diet version of whatever the fuck is in the machine. like MAYBE the pepsi tastes slightly diluted for whatever reason compared to coke and that is the only difference i can detect. i also cant detect the difference between diet and regular

2. Disney or Dreamworks: uhhhhh neither except if you really count pixar movies as disney movies in which case i have to go with disney but like lion king? little mermaid? i dont have any nostalgia or anything for like The Disney Movies ALSO i just googled “dreamworks movies” and they made Saving Private Ryan what the fuck? (which ive never seen)

3. Coffee or tea: neither but if held at gunpoint then tea

4. Books or movies: i have like three books to read that i keep putting off but i also dont have the attention span/commitment necessary to watch movies on my own anymore. like i hate watching movies because you have to sit there so long. anyway books i didnt mean to imply anything negative about them

5. Windows or Mac: windows. i dont know shit. i dont know anything. the most confusing in the world is the row of icons at the bottom of a mac. i cant find anything and i dont know whats going on

6. DC or Marvel: my whole experience with superheroes has been the mcu but i also like matt fraction’s hawkeye (that i have never kept up with) so marvel

7. Xbox or PlayStation: playstation 1, playstation 3, and playstation 4. the game of life for the ps1 forever

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: luv em both but DA wrecks me more than ME and also aiming guns is really hard

9. Night owl or early riser: i can never stay up past 2:30 am without feeling nervous about cutting into my time thats supposed to be for the next day but i really love being awake in the dark. but i also like being awake before people become active. i only sleep like 7 hours so im able to rise early if i need to but also stay up late (or “late”) so i guess both but if i had to choose, night owl

10. Cards or chess: shit at both

11. Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate as a flavor needs to be enjoyed sparingly for me and vanilla is just ubiquitous so i appreciate vanilla all the time and at the same time VERY appreciate chocolate but only some of the time. balanced

12. Vans or Converse: ive been converted to vans. actually one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me was i was at YUL and the border agent that was working at the metal detector place was like “woah are those vans? awesome. no need to take off your shoes.” and the breakdown in the routine of youre-going-to-the-united-states-so-take-off-your-shoes disoriented me

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: you cant have any facial hair as an elf and i hate that so trevelyan

14. Fluff or angst: i havent seriously read fanfic in like a while but i guess angst

15. Beach or forest: luv going to the beach and being on the edge of the land

16. Dogs or Cats: im in a cat-person phase but not for all cats like i see a cat on my dash and im like yeah. thats good. but its not MY cat so only 3 stars. my cats are the absolute best and when i see em 10 out of 5 stars. but i also love dogs

17. Clear Skies or Rain: if im inside rain but if im outside i hate all precipitation

18. Cooking or eating out: i have no money but if i did id be buying prepared food all the time. cooking is ok but i dont have the patience to cook like big stuff like an entire meal of multiple food groups

19. Spicy food or mild food: my fave is when my eyes are watering and my nose is running also the kinds of spicy food ive tended to get in my life always include goat as an option and i love eating goats

20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: winter because you get time off from school

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot (and no the winter coats and ACs are not an option): this is the worst choice in the world

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: teleportation always

23. Animation or Live action: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh animation i guess

24. Paragon or renegade? i cant be mean to people in a game where you have party members and consequences. paragon always

25. If you could travel anywhere, where would you go? one condition: i get to take people with me. also how big can “anywhere” be like can i just answer “europe” but also i wanna go back to malaysia/indonesia and eat the food i missed out on because i was sick when we went back in like 2012

26. Which Mass Effect class do you play as? adept because i like to throw those scifi rasengans and i hate aiming guns 27. Roses or lilies? roses also rose syrup tastes good

28. Cold dessert or hot dessert? cold dessert always. whats an example of a warm dessert. just looked it up who the fuck would eat pudding hot and pies/crumbles are not that good. wouldnt eat a cake warm and brownies are alright

since theres a lot of bioware questions im tagging will @willryuji if u wanna do it

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itsworn · 7 years ago

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She Came to Love the “Funky” 1970s Paint Job on her 1966 Pontiac GTO Street/Strip Car

Jennifer Murphy grew up a Pontiac-loving motorhead who drove a series of beefed-up Ponchos while living just outside New York City in Rockland County, New York. First there was a sweet 1969 LeMans that became her main steed and then a series of stout F-Bodies.

She met her boyfriend, Mike Spina, a little more than 20 years ago. The twosome made frequent trips to Raceway Park in Englishtown, New Jersey, where they would take on a little bracket racing for weekend fun. A single mom on a budget, Jennifer didn’t have a racer to call her own, so Mike would let her drive one of his hopped-up rides. It was an enjoyable time for sure, but Jenn wanted to get a little more serious, and the best way to do that was to procure a fast ride of her own.

Poncho Picker

Since funds were limited, her purchase would need to be well thought out. She and Mike would need to address just the necessities for getting her down the track quickly and safely. She knew that if she bought a car with “some assembly required,” well, that just might not ever happen due to time and money constraints.

After looking at several cars that didn’t make the cut, Mike got a call about a GTO for sale locally. “I wasn’t actually looking for a GTO specifically, but I wanted whatever I bought to be real, not a clone or fake,” Jennifer says. When they checked out the Goat, “I wasn’t really thrilled with the paint,” she admits. “It showed its age and it was a bit funky to me.” That funk was a brilliant candy coat, with custom graphics laid out in a 1970s-style panel paint job.

On the plus side, the GTO ran well and had a four-speed between the buckets. It wasn’t an original car by any means, sporting several key modifications, and that was just fine with Jennifer. That would give her cart blanche to make changes without the guilt that sometimes comes with disturbing a stock ride.

The car didn’t come with any power options; the brakes and steering were manual. “So when it was time for a test drive, the owner asked me if I could handle the GTO,” Jennifer says. “‘Challenge accepted,’ was my answer!” She hit the street with the pumped-up Pontiac and put it through its paces. Jennifer didn’t pull the trigger on the deal that night, but over the weekend she could not stop thinking about that GTO. She knew she had to go back and get it.

Poncho Power

Once in her possession, it didn’t take long to get it to the track. It wasn’t the fastest ride, but bracket racing was a blast with her car! And a funny thing happened over time. That funky paint job started to grow on her. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a garage to keep the car in, so the elements took their toll on the vibrant skin over the next few years.

Recently Jennifer decided that the car needed to be refreshed. That meant a new paint job in addition to going through the mechanicals. But since she was now attached to the seasoned custom paint job, she decided the GTO should be reskinned in the candy paint, and the wild graphics needed to be replicated as well. The problem was sourcing a shop that could not only spray the candy coat but also duplicate the graphics.

They searched for some time for the right crew to handle the job before finally getting a break. At a large car show in Orchard Beach, New York, they spotted a similarly painted car—a low rider basted in candy red and sporting some crazy air-brushed skulls. Intrigued, they starting talking to the owner, Marco Flores, and told him about their paint dilemma. Turns out he had painted his extreme ride, and he offered his services to redo the paint and graphics on Jenn’s GTO.

They would wait a year or so until Marco secured a new shop in which to perform his magic, and then they had to wait another year while he caught up on previously promised work. When it was the GTO’s turn, it was brought to Marco’s lair, a dark, desolate, no-frills cinderblock garage, where the Goat was torn down to its shell. As parts came off the car, Jennifer had them cleaned and rechromed. The engine was pulled and rebuilt while Marco laid down the House of Kolor Kandy Apple Red and replicated the Pontiac’s graphics on the flanks and hood.

Once the paint was finished and the motor installed, the Goat came back to Jennifer’s, where Mike showed her the basics of rewiring a car. After that, the pair reinstalled the interior, replaced the axles out back, and checked off all the details. From start to finish, the restoration took about five years, but to Jennifer every second was well worth it.

Poncho Punch

This is no stock GTO by any means. The motor was built from a 400ci block, stuffed with 10.5 pistons and a Crane Ram Air IV cam, and topped with a set of 428 heads with Ferrea valves. Spent gases are sent into a set of three-chamber Flowmaster mufflers by way of Hedman Hedders. Shifting is done by a Muncie M21, and the power is laid down by a Chevy-12 bolt with 4.11 gears.

Other go-fast goodies include a Stewart-Warner electric fuel pump pushing go-juice through a half-inch line, an MSD ignition, and a Holley Street Dominator intake fitted with a Holley 650-cfm double-pumper. A homemade Ram Air pan sits on top, funneling cold air into this Poncho powerplant.

Many of the parts on the car now were there when it was transformed into a 1970s street machine, including the air shocks and the ladder bars. Boxed lower control arms and the two driveshaft loops were there when Jennifer bought the car. “There was also a stopper welded onto the clutch pedal to prevent it from traveling all the way up, which is an old racing trick,” she says. The cool finned M/T diff cover was also added during its street machine years.

The car was back out on the streets and at the track in 2012. It’s then that Jennifer and Mike christened her Pandora, as this “rejuvenation” process started with just a paint job and turned into them basically opening up Pandora’s Box. Though the process was trying at times, the results are just mind-blowing. This GTO is one gleaming nod to the 1970s, and built not only to look rad on the street but also to run wild on the track. It’s no doubt that to Jennifer, the best thing about this ride by far is that it’s hers. She got her Goat, and she couldn’t be happier.

At a Glance

1966 GTO Owned by: Jennifer Murphy Restored by: Owner; Mike Spina; Marco Flores (paint) Engine: 400ci V-8 Transmission: Muncie M21 4-speed manual Rearend: Chevrolet 12-bolt with 4.11 gears Interior: Black vinyl bucket seat Wheels: 15×4 front, 15×7 rear Rocket Racing Tires: 26×6.00 Mickey Thompson Sportsman front, 275/60R15 Mickey Thompson ET Street Radial rear Special parts: Mooneyes tach, AM radio, fuel pressure gauge, Rally dash, console, ribbon etched glass, custom paint and graphics

Longtime Pontiac enthusiast Jennifer Murphy loved racing her boyfriend’s cars at the local track, but she knew it would be more fun to run her own ride down the strip. That’s when she found this 1970s street machine and built it into both a wild cruiser and weekend racetrack bruiser.

Even though the “funky” paint job that the GTO wore didn’t thrill her when she bought it, she came to realize that it was part of the car’s personality. When it came time to restore the Goat, she tracked down an expert painter familiar with these kind of graphics and had the wild paint job replicated.

This GTO was originally ordered with a 389/Tri-power/four-speed setup, but when Jennifer found the car it had the 400/four-barrel/Muncie M21. She didn’t mind that the original engine was gone, as it gave her peace-of-mind when it came to changing things to her liking. She added the custom Ram Air pan since the scoop had already been opened up when she got the GTO.

Everything they could chrome they did. That includes the hoodscoop, heater core box, hood hinges, mounting brackets, bumper brackets (with tow tabs welded on), and master cylinder.

Since this would be a track car as well as a car show cruiser, Jennifer and her boyfriend, Mike Spina, built it up with both uses in mind. The car possesses cool period-perfect race pieces: ladder bars, two driveshaft loops, and a heavy duty 12-bolt rear (out of a Chevelle) that was assembled with Superior axles and track-friendly 4.11 gears.

The interior of the GTO has seen a few modifications and add-ons as well. The original buckets were redone by Jennifer, and she installed a set of fresh door panels and carpet. A Mooneyes tach sits on the column along with Stewart-Warner water temperature and oil pressure gauges. An aftermarket 1960s-perfect wood steering wheel keeps this ride pointed in the right direction.

“This says it all. That’s me,” says Jennifer about her personalized license plate.

The post She Came to Love the “Funky” 1970s Paint Job on her 1966 Pontiac GTO Street/Strip Car appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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