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insertsickusername13 · 2 years ago

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haven't reread this or edited it. idc. it's cute. enjoy.

word count: 3k

warnings: child abuse (rich's whole situation with his dad---it's not bad, and it's only mentioned in one paragraph, but it's there enough that it's worth mentioning)

Jake was standing in the center of the crowded hallway leaning heavily on his cane. Freshmen and seniors alike twisted and stumbled out of the way as they rushed down to lunch. His feet were shoulder width apart and his chin held high, much like a rock in the center of a rushing river.

Rich was hyper-aware of Jake from the second he slipped out of pre-calc, his attention (much like everyone else’s) immediately drawn to him. Tall. Confident. He stood like he belonged to the extent those who had to dodge out of his way were convinced they were the ones in the wrong, not him.

“And they say Christine’s dramatic,” Rich greeted. He sidestepped out of the current of students into the safety of Jake’s shadow. Jake’s gaze flickered from somewhere in the distance down to Rich and immediately his expression morphed from one of deep concentration to rosy excitement. Then, as if realizing himself, Jake pressed his lips together and snuffed out his happiness like a flame (not the first fire Jake had put out, both metaphorically and literally).

“We need to talk,” he said simply, tone barren and controlled. Rich masked the instinctive panic that promptly flooded the room at those words behind an amused quirked eyebrow.

“Intense opening line,” he commented, “8/10. Delivery could’ve been better.”

Jake’s purposeful intensity faltered just long enough for him to duck his head to hide his summertime smile. Rich, despite already sorting through all the worst-case scenarios—death, hatred, squips and secrets—did a small, mental fist pump. Having the newfound freedom to think his own thoughts without anyone there to criticize him besides his own subconscious meant spending an increasing amount of time dedicating himself to seeing Jake smile, watching him laugh, and feeling no shame at the way life seemed to return to every previously colorless corner of the room, the way his heart so hard he was convinced it was a destructive force rather than a romantic one.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

It’d been a minute, at least, and the halls were slowly emptying out of bystanders. Rich shifted back slightly, now free to be farther away from Jake without being trampled. Self-preservation kept him from creeping closer even as he shivered at the cold that slithered into the room at Jake’s distance.

Rich tried to keep his voice from trembling as he got out, “Okay, then. Talk to me.”

Jake shook his head and Rich frowned.

Rich felt dread, yes. Though it couldn’t have been past noon, a bluish-black dusk almost the same color as a bruise was swimming in his vision and dragging its sharp nails over every inch of exposed skin. Rich was restless in his desperation to get as far from this conversation as possible, a feeling so overwhelming he had to consciously talk himself down from an anxiety attack.

But where Rich’s anxiety manifested itself in his fidgeting fingers and tapping foot—something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, even a relatively calm Rich was a jittery Rich—Jake looked like he’d just watched tragedy strike an entire nation.

“Not here,” he muttered, so quiet Rich was convinced he didn’t want him to hear. “…Library? Or—”

“Library works,” Rich smiled, “We can watch horny freshmen make out in the back while we… break up? Platonically? I don’t know what you’re planning on.”

Jake didn’t seem to find Rich’s facetiousness amusing. He looked down at his shoes, seemingly deeply entertained by the intricacies of his poorly tied laces.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice taking on a customer-service tone he adopted when he knew his natural voice would be on the verge of breaking. Rich couldn’t even find it in him to summon another shitty joke.

Jake led Rich to the library briskly, ignoring the cafeteria completely while Rich cast a longing glance back at his lunch table, where all his friends were laughing without a care in the world.

Jake was facing straight ahead and a step ahead of Rich—his face was out of view, but Rich could hear the faint sound of him reciting a speech to himself, rehearsing whatever he was going to say to Rich in a moment. Rich strained to hear every—any—word, but all he got were empty shells of sorry and we can fix it.

“Okay,” Jake said as he pulled out Rich’s chair and sat across from him, his cane leaning against the table. They were sat in the back of the library by a window. Jake dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it, pulling out a binder Rich had never seen before. Strange, considering Rich had sat through every pre-test, stress-induced haze while Jake paced the living room, reciting definitions from flashcards and making Rich read aloud passages from binders that only slightly resembled the one on the table between them.

Rich let out a tiny sigh of relief that he hoped wasn’t noticeable. So it was just a test or presentation—something important enough to Jake’s final grade that he was freaking out enough that he’d totally missed the mini-mental breakdown he’d caused Rich.

Jake took a deep breath. Rich leaned back, prepared and patient to listen as Jake first apologized for bothering him, then made Rich quickly skim the source material before quizzing him on every possible question or logic fallacy that would most surely never show up on a test intended for high schoolers. Rich wasn’t bothered when Jake’s expression changed from nervous to one of pure determination and cynical analysis—he was well accustomed to this version of Jake, one who compartmentalized until all the dark and scary feelings were just files to be sorted rather than genuine emotions to be processed. He’d get through it eventually, but only after he’d solved whatever problem he was facing.

“Physics?” Rich guessed. Jake looked up from his papers, barely aware of what Rich had said, his focus completely and utterly on the task at hand.

“What?”

“Physics? Is that what we’re studying?”

Another moment of awkward silence before Jake finally seemed to understand.

“Oh,” he said, “No. No, worse. Here.”

He passed Rich a paper—a timeline, starting December 3rd. Rich didn’t get the chance to read a single word before Jake shoved another paper into his hand, this one a calendar for this month—April. Then a list. A picture. A color-coded set of notes. A survey? Rich scrambled to organize himself as Jake shoved yet another paper into his hand, this one a printed-out, annotated article from one sketchy health website or another.

“Do you want a chance to review the material before I start, or can I just jump right in?”

Rich looked up helplessly from the April calendar and squeaked, “Huh?”

Jake studied him for a moment, gaze a stormy mix of expectancy and determination. Then, having come to a conclusion Rich wasn’t privy to, he said, “We’re going to start on page one.”

Rich blinked at him.

“Timeline,” Jake clarified, “The first paper I handed to you.”

Rich struggled through the pile of papers until he pulled the timeline out. He displayed it to Jake proudly only to be met with a nervous smile that quickly faded into a grimace.

“Alright,” Jake said, his voice quivering in a similar fashion to a guitar string—musically, beautifully. He clenched his paper to the point it crinkled. “As you can see, it starts December 3rd, the day I first visited you in the hospital, and ends yesterday.”

Rich’s eyes flit from the beginning to the end of the timeline to confirm Jake’s words. He nodded, unsure as to why Jake’s tidbit about the hospital was necessary.

“So upon first contact post-fire, we ignored the topic of the fire and simply discussed the play and Jeremy, correct?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. And you didn’t apologize until the 8th, the next date marked on the timeline.”

Rich found the 8th, labeled ‘THE APOLOGY’ in all caps. Rich searched the words for a hidden meaning, praying it’d also be the birthday of some American president or treaty signing.

“I was, at first, resistant, but by the 11th I had come to forgive you. I visited again and we discussed possible steps forward.”

Unsurprisingly, the 11th was the next marked date. Rich swallowed a confused sob.

“Yeah, I know,” Rich said, the words tumbling out of his throat like his body was trying to purge him of a poison, “What the fuck?”

Jake continued without so much as looking up.

“On the 20th, you were released from the hospital. You, your brother, and I all spent Christmas at my apartment—purchased before the timeline began—over the 25th and into the 26th. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes. Still kind of dark times, though, so if we could skip to—”

“You moved in on January 5th.”

Rich’s memory of that day lived serenely in the back of his mind to be summoned with perfect clarity whenever he felt unworthy or scared. It had been impulsive and dangerous—Rich had called Jake in the middle of the night, bruised and scared and exhausted. He’d come home from a six-hour shift on the verge of collapse, his burns itching and screaming, the lingering memory of the squip spouting deprecations at the way he winced with every step. He was unlucky enough to find his father still conscious in the living room, anger emanating off of him in waves of violence that manifested in thrown dishes and kicked over trashcans because where the fuck have you been?! You think you have any right to parade around with your rich friends while your family is stuck here?! You should’ve been—

The list was long. You should’ve been cleaning the dishes, making dinner, doing the laundry. He made it worse by crying.

He stayed kneeling in the kitchen long after his father passed out on the couch and, with shaking hands, because he didn’t want to cry anymore—he really, really didn’t want to cry—he called Jake.

Jake offered every cliche affirmation and more. You’re enough, you’re more than enough, I love you, you deserve better, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

All the while, Jake was texting Michael. He still had his casts on—he couldn’t drive, and Michael told Rich later that he’d never seen someone manage to sound so panicked over text.

Less than twenty minutes later, Michael had snuck in the window. He cleaned the broken dishes, set the trashcan upright, and picked Rich up off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his father’s house.

“No, no, no, I can’t leave, he needs me, he needs me—”

Upon collapsing into Jake’s arms ten minutes later, Rich realized he needed to be loved a lot more than his dad needed him. He didn't go back.

“Yeah,” Rich breathed, “I remember.”

“January 15th: The first incident happens.”

“Incident?” Rich asked blankly, his mind still replaying the car ride from his father’s to Jake’s house.

“Yes. Any urges to kiss you or—or more, will be referred to using the term ‘incident,’ whereas more innocent urges—possibly wanting to go out on a date, or hold your hand, things along those lines—will be referred to using ‘episodes.’”

“Mhm,” Rich confirmed mindlessly. Jake’s words drifted up and around him much water falling off his face and body rather than sinking into his skin. It took Jake’s heavy gaze—staring expectantly, his lips parted, forming questions Rich couldn’t hear.

Wait. What?

“Go back,” Rich rushed out, back straightening. Hope hadn’t sunk in yet—he wasn’t quite there. Only confusion. “What the hell?”

Jake nodded once. He’d been expecting this reaction.

“Beginning January 7th, I developed a crush on you.”

Instead of turning to Jake, Rich turned to the papers for confirmation. He scoured the timeline for the words crush or love. All he got were incident #4 (#7, #9, #54, #78) and episode #7 (#15, #29, #156).

Shaky, he rushed to the next paper. A list of twenty entitled Modes for Moving On. The article from Healthline or Web MD: Psychologists Estimate Crushes become a True Love After Four Months.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered, his voice so simply scared Rich was convinced he must be hiding from a monster under the bed or the boogyman—a childish fear. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You—” Rich started. He distantly heard Jake make a strangled sound but was too lost in flashes of the past three and a half months. Jake, flinching away when Rich got too close—Rich blaming it on the fire. Jake going out with three different girls in a week with no sign of stopping until Brooke slapped him and told him to stop playing with people’s feelings. The way he’d listened to Brooke but had been staring at Rich the whole time, his shoulders hunched over as he tried to curl in on himself.

“I… I don’t understand,” Rich whispered, though of course, by now, understanding was settling in his spine and gripping his nervous system like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. Jake liked him. Jake liked him.

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s the point. The article—”

Jake was in such a blind rush to show Rich that he practically fell from his chair, kicking it back with a ferocity as he stood and winced, his legs unprepared for the sudden weight on them.

“Fuck—the article, four months, right? And—” he hastily re-situated his chair and stumbled over to Rich, his hands clumsily shuffling through the papers until he managed to shove the Healthline/Web MD article in Rich’s face.

“See! Four months! I’ve still got two weeks, right? I’m not in love with you. I’ve got—I’ve got a plan. I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internet on how to move on, and it all told me to like, avoid you and stuff, but I can’t do that, so instead I’m ‘loving myself’ and ‘working through lingering feelings’—just a bunch of weird self-care stuff, but I’m fucking desperate, I’ll—”

He straightened suddenly, struck with the realization he’d just been so close to the source of all his problems. His expression singed and pride marred, he backed up a step, posture erect and his faked smile tight. He shook out his hands and turned to the sky for a quick moment. When he finally spoke again, it was in the same presenter’s tone he’d been offering since the beginning. In control; calm. His acting was worse than it had been in the play. Rich could hear every bit of panic running under his tone.

“Following the ten-step plan outlined on page seven, these feelings should be resolved by the 13th, with two days of cushion time in case one or two steps are thwarted or interfered with. I thought it right to make you aware of, of my intentions. I do think it would be best if I—”

Rich did the only thing he could think of to stop Jake from talking. He threw the nearest highlighter at Jake’s face.

For a moment afterward, there was only silence. Jake’s eyes were crossed to try and see where he’d been hit, right below the nose, and Rich was so mortified by his own unfounded actions to even begin to apologize.

“…You could’ve just said you don’t feel the same,” Jake finally murmured. He looked like he was physically fighting melancholia from his face and trying to stuff it into one of his file cabinets. He failed, and he had to turn away so Rich couldn’t see. He appeared to be blinking back tears.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking dramatic.”

Jake pouted. Rich laughed delightedly and got up to take Jake’s hands in his own. Jake stayed staring at the floor.

“Next time, just tell me how you’re feeling, yeah? Would’ve saved a lot of trees.”

Jake sniffled.

“I like you," Rich grinned, "If you somehow missed that. For a lot more than four months, too.”

Finally, Jake looked at Rich, his expression open and hopeful, a smile comparable to everything springtime and flowery blooming on his face.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Rich got up on his tippy toes, smiling softly, in an attempt to kiss Jake for the first time. His crush liked him back—

Jake jerked away, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. I literally told you when I fell in love with you. Oh my god. We’re not even dating.”

Rich tried to suppress his smile—just for Jake’s dignity—but a small laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. Jake’s face went from a rosy red to the color of wine. Rich wanted to kiss it off him.

“No, stop it," Jake said, "don’t say anything. This didn’t happen. Oh my god. Get out! Now!”

“What?” Rich said, his amusement so complete in essence he was sure Jake could feel it like a slap across the face, “Why?”

“Because!!!” Jake screeched, “I need to destroy all the evidence! Then I’m just going to ask you out like a normal person, Jesus fuck. No. I’m just going to ask Chloe to kill me. She’ll be glad to. Goodbye.”

Jake spun back to the table and, without organizing them in the slightest (something so un-Jake-like Rich seriously considered the possibility that this whole thing had been orchestrated by a clone), shoved the papers back into his backpack, uncaring that half of them were ripped or crinkled. When he turned back to Rich, it was like nothing had ever happened. He looked like he had that morning: happy in a Jake way. Almost like a golden retriever, ready to do whatever necessary to make the people around him smile. In control. Suave and nonchalant; a flirt.

Jake conjured a look of confusion onto his face.

“Dude, what the fuck, you didn’t tell me you were French.”

“What?! Dude—” Rich giggled into his hand, so delighted by the entire affair he couldn’t even really be confused by Jake’s sudden assumption that Rich was French, of all things, “—I’m not fucking French.”

“Really?” He squinted at Rich, “Because I could’ve sworn Eiffel for you.”

He flashed Rich a grin and a peace sign before swooping down like he was going to kiss Rich. He stopped last second, less than an inch away, and carefully cupped Rich’s jaw. Rich watched as the confident exterior Jake had managed to summon last second slipped into a pure, childish excitement. His breath caught for a moment, so utterly elated at the idea that he was this close to kissing Rich—

Rich tried to close the gap. Jake’s fingers dug into Rich’s jaw, something that could’ve quite possibly been considered violent had it come from anyone else, but Jake seemed so set on making sure Rich wasn’t hurt that the show of strength came off as affectionate rather than scary. Rich frowned.

“When you tell people how we got together,” Jake seethed. Though his humor had darkened into a bad boy character that suspiciously resembled the love interest of a romance movie he and Jake had watched together a week ago, it was offset by the fact Rich had seen the utter awe on his face a moment earlier. “You tell them about this, yeah? That—” with his free hand, he motioned vaguely to the table behind them. “—that never happened. I fed you a nice pickup line and you liked it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Rich said, his voice so quiet and seductive Jake was forced to pull away before he did something he’d regret.

Then, the second they arrived at their lunch table, “Jenna motherfucking Rolan, you will not believe what just happened—”

#jake dillinger #rich goranski #bmc #be more chill musical #richjake #romanceeee #sparkly star fanfic #it's like. so cute i'm not even judging it like i usually judge my writing #that right there? i'm sharing it for the concept #idc if it reads horribly it's ADORABLE #and something jake would do idc what u say #this reminds me actually one day i plan on drawing richjake fanart and posting it #and it's gonna be SO SO BAD #but i'm going to say i spent forever on it and worked so hard so any of my friends here are forced to pretend they like it #even tho it prolly took like two minutes #i'll do it on april first too #hashtag u got pranked bitch

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void-bliss · 6 months ago

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This is probably gonna be extremely vague but idc, it's late at night and I haven't slept in 2 days

Please stay with me on this, Death Note takes place around 2003 (anime), but you know what else? VICENTE FOX.

For short, Vicente Fox was the president of Mexico from 2000 to 2006 today accused, to give an example, forced disappearences, extraordinary executions etc... And while he was the president, several violent organizations emerged (not gonna list them)

Where I'm going with this, is that he was probably one of Light's targets later on when his six-year term ended because he fit within the label of a "bad guy".

But you know who also was president of Mexico after Fox? Felipe Calderón (2006-2012)

Violence in the country rose insanely (140% to the end of his six-year term) ever since he declared war to the organized crime.

Going back a bit to the anime, since Light/Kira was pretty active at the time, It is safe to assume that the level of violence went down, just as it is throughout the world as they make it known to us. But even so, If Light knew about Calderón's declaration of war, and saw the results it brought, he would also be a target of his, as well as the leaders (or even all the members) of these criminal organizations.

So yeah, Felipe Calderón and Vicente Fox would probably be names written in that Death Note of his.

Credits to the owner of the cat pic, I just edited poorly Light's hair and the Death Note, my friend A. edited the name

#death note #light yagami #how do i tag his help

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thebibliosphere · 2 years ago

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I get that it's not well written, but this seems like a sexual fantasy to me, not meant to be accurate realistic bdsm. For sure it would be a terrible bdsm scene, but if it's a sexual fantasy there's no need for it to be realistic or healthy, and there's no such thing as "excessive". I love healthy bdsm irl, but personally I will never find a fictional bdsm scene titillating, I would rather read fictional fantasies (aka stuff I would never want to see or experience irl, but are titillating in written form). I get that it's frustrating given how many authors refuse to admit that they're writing sexual fantasies, and instead insist it's just romance or even accurate healthy bdsm, but is it the case here? And even if it's the case, the thing to criticize here is the improper labeling of the story, not the fact that it's a sexual fantasy and, as such, can seem excessive or weird or badly written or morally corrupt (which doesn't matter for a sexual fantasy as long as it does what it needs to do without claiming to be something deeper).

Like if I'm trying to get off, idc that realistically her butt would be falling off, and yeah I would like to hear the humiliating components of her being punished in front of the prince. The whole internal narrative of "oh it's so cruel but I deserve it :(" is also just classic humiliation play dialogue like. I just find it uncomfortable to make fun of that or try to dissect it as if it was a bdsm manual, it starts to sound a bit too much like the anti-kink rhetoric tbh. But again, if the book is trying to sell itself as healthy romance or accurate bdsm, then it should be criticized for that.

I get where the concern is perhaps coming from if you don't know me, but as someone who writes and edits BDSM for a living and has been involved in kink scenes and sex adjacent work for decades, this shit is my bread and butter.

I'm not criticizing fantasies or kink; I'm criticizing that something so poorly written ever got published because it was written by Anne Fucking Rice (may she rest in shit), someone who threatened to sue her fans and bullied them for years for writing fantasies about her characters.

If my criticisms of her terrible prose and lackluster sex scenes bother you, you can either block the tag or feel free to unfollow. I'm just having fun poking at shit fiction.

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dollhousecrybaby73 · 3 years ago

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okay y'know what? the school's wifi doesn't let discord work so i will use tumblr to ramble and entertain myself since my one singular friend has to take some dumb standardized test and can't talk to me. so last night i found out bo burnham made so many of my favorite vines, such as "don't cross me, shout out to jesus! i need a rhyme for jesus- *gets a box of cheez its thrown at him*"

honestly anybody from my school finding my tumblr account scares me until i realize that this and my post where i poorly edited billy loomis' face onto a guy in a spam costume (there was a reason.) and gave no context are my only two posts.

nobody is gonna see this and think that this is my blog. as i previously stated, i have a singular friend here.

speaking of scream, it is such a good movie. i've been so obsessed with it lately. my favourite character is billy loomis, but stu macher is definitely a close second. i'm aware that they aren't "good" characters but they're great characters. the way that they're written is just *chef's kiss*

i love love love how expressive stu is, he has so much fucking personality. facial expressions are on point, the way he talks and acts.. i also really like billy's facial expressions. they're both so... expressive.

those are my favourite expressions of theirs from the movie and they just make me very very happy like so happy like too happy they are literally serial killers.

but idc i love them 😭😭

i know most people think they're gay for each other and while there's definitely chemistry, i feel like stu's more into billy than billy's into stu. stu absolutely has feelings for billy, or at the very least thinks highly of him. i think billy definitely had feelings, too, but he'd never admit it. i could talk about this movie for actual hours.

okay but the only difference with people who like horror movies and people who like creepypastas is realistically only how they're perceived. i am open for debate.

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angelathewitch · 4 years ago

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Okay I just finished the ACOTAR series for the first time and I have so many thoughts so I'm gonna write them down.

Also I have not looked at any fan theories or been a part of this fandom very much so all these headcannons are straight from the noggin:

Literally what the fuck is tamlin doing.

Okay getting this out of the way cause its a hot topic. Azriel is my baby I love him but

I would have mixed feelings about him being with both gwyn and Elaine. I love the idea of Elaine being azriels sunshine he deserves light in his life (also their scene in ACOSF had me ejdjbdksks) but also all three bat boys being with all 3 sisters rubs me the wrong way idk.

Gwyn is amazing because she's a badass bitch and if azriel doesn't snatch that up I will. I feel like azriel almost gets bulldozed over by the other bat boys (like he will do the dirty work only because he feels inferior) And I want gwyn to help him stand up for himself.

Gwyn is an adult jfc. I'd be more worried about her trauma.

I am totally a elucien shipper I'm SORRY lucien deserves the world

But at the same time I would totally understand if Elaine couldn't forgive him for his involvement in the cauldron business. That shit was wack. I just want this relationship to be the biggest, most "period drama esqe" slowburn.

I have very mixed feelings about lucien. On one hand lucien has never had a home and when tamlin took him in I can see how that loyalty blurred the lines of right and wrong. But at the same time lucien messed up MANY times where the archeon sisters are concerned.

Nesta deserved her kick in the ass because it was needed. She did not deserve everyone to be a little bitch to her. It felt like feyre was the only one who wanted her rehabbed for nestas sake. I definitely would have preferred Nesta to hit rock bottom and choose recovery for herself (cause alcoholism and things can only be truly solved through self help) Everyone else was uncharacteristically nonempathetic. Idk how Cassian could be okay with her treatment after they mated.

I'm still digesting Rhys and nestas relationship. I like that they don't like each other for most of ACOSF. Nestas reasons for treating feyre poorly are valid, but not excuses. The feyre, Nesta, and rhys relationship thing is weird cause I see all sides. I need more feyre and Nesta bonding they always get interrupted.

I HATE what SJM did to Mors character. What the fuck is up with mor not liking Nesta. Maybe we will get an explanation in the next book but I feel like mor was set up to be a great LGBT character with himbo allies but SJM just dropped her off a cliff. Big mad.

However I do want eris and mor to end up together. Not necessarily romantically, but I want them to have it out and I want eris to support mor. Kinda want them to be mates. Kinda want eris to be gay as well. Kinda want them to get married and them have consorts.

WHY does everyone treat feyre like a porcelain doll when the IC has more collective trauma than anyone else in this universe. Don't get me wrong I'm all about the hurt/comfort but it was so inconsistently written LOL. When the IC was telling their stories the first night they met and then feyre told hers I cackled like sorry but she is a baby

Rhys's trauma is just as recent as feyres... yeah he's a lot older and seasoned but oh my GOD he was consistently assaulted for 49 years. Feyre does very little to comfort him. Idk I feel like it was SO glossed over.

Like in ACOWAR feyre admits that amaranthas hatred wasn't personal it was general, unlike Tamlins hatred. But amarantha and rhys had multiple personal vendettas against each other. Like his amarantha is vaguely feyres tamlin. Rhys didn't even get to kill amarantha. His trauma is untapped. Rhys is the main character feyre is the love interest idc

Idk what yall say rhys is my baby my lovebug my everything. He's got his flaws but you can't love Nesta and hate him at the same time without being a lil hypocritical

But he's fucked in the head for thinking he was justified in drugging feyre every night for 2 months. Almost more mad about that than the SA (I dont really blame Rhys since it is not cannon to me. SJM just messed up 😌 it was so out of character) did he ever really apologize for that??

ALSO I know smj wanted to write like #consentking but half of what he allowed was so unnecessarily dangerous (like the first AND second weaver encounter- if my SO ran off in the middle of a battle to track down a mysterious creature when the task could have been done after the battle I would have be livid. Mor was justified in being mad.)

I'm so mad rhys didn't flatten tamlin during the high lord meeting. Either it will happen in the future or I will burn these books.

THE BAT BOYS HAVE CONNONICALLY BEEN IN THE SAME ROOM WHILE HAVING SEX. the foursomes in my head gets clearer by the day

I HATE the fact that rhys almost had an existential crisis over feyre being so young when she found her mate and not having "lived" and THEN GETS HER PREGNANT??? Are you kidding me. I'm so mad. I don't wanna deal with babies. I hate babies.

But I DO have a fun headcannon that since the bone carver is a death-god or whatever he KNEW nyx wouldn't survive and that is why he appeared as him. Also when the bone carver offered to take feyres first born in exchange for help rather than the oroboughs I think that was also foreshadowing. The only reason nyx survived was because of Nesta and the bone carver had trouble seeing the cauldron.

((Maybe nyx should have died during the birth idk))

Literally I would have enjoyed ACOSF if instead of the pregnancy feyre was busy looking for bryaxis. Literally what happened to him. Wtf

I know the plot armor is crazy thick around the IC but it would have been nice if one of them died. Well, not nice, but more believable. Maybe thats why nyx should have died. Lol I need therapy.

FREAKING HEADCANNON: the archeon sisters are partially fae. Their mom was definitely a descendant and that's why all three sisters have mates. It was hinted that the sisters had mated because they were powerful and cauldron made but Cassian and rhys could feel the pull before the sisters were turned.

Tarquin is the hottest high lord

The whole blood rite thing was stupid. I would have loved if it was spread out over a longer period of time but it was so unrealistic

You know we all love a good #girlboss🤢 moment but the whole valkarie thing seemed 1. Out of no where 2. Really quickly forced (ACOSF should have been like 2 books) 3. If emerie and mor get together life=complete

The inner circle and ther archeon sisters would not get along if they weren't mated to like 50% of the gang

They're too whiny

It's so weird that the mating bond can only be felt by guys??? Lol wut

Okay I know this is a complicated subject but having LGBTs in a universe with mates based in evolutionary advantage seems more homophobic than having a universe without LGBTs LOL. Like their connection can't be as deep cause they can't procreate?? I did like that SJM made up for it a little by saying not all mates are complementary souls.

Hybern was so powerful and for WHAT. I don't understand

Vassa, lucien, and jurian being a trio is so weird 😐

I WANT A NOVELLA ON THE STORY OF AMREN AND VARIAN. They are my otp. If anyone has made it this far and knows of some good amren and varian fanart pls let me know

Okay that is all for now thank you if you read down to here xoxo gossip girl.

P. S. Also I am starting throne of glass and am having a hard time getting into it. Can anyone vouch for this series please I'm conflicted.

Edit: omg I was zooted when I wrote this and didn't realize my phone autocorrected cassian to Caspian RIP

#acotar #acosf #acosf spoilers #elucien #gwynriel #azriel #pro nesta #a court of thorns and roses #a court of war and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury

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majordeathrey · 4 years ago

Conversation

text | SugaRey

Sugar: Hi you!

Sugar: I was thinking today and I have friends / family that care about me so they’d definitely care about you too! Plus you know Arin already!

Rey: Where EXACTLY is this going, Princess?

Sugar: GAme night!

Rey: Who all would be involved?

Sugar: I mean between 1 and 5

Rey: Arin and who else?

Sugar: Arin, Frannie, Quinn, Bea, and Liv!

Rey: So... Arin, her roommate, her roommate's sisters, and the tattoo artist?

Sugar: Yes

Rey: What does the tattooist have to do with this? Like, I get the other 4.

Sugar: Frannie needs to be in her lap at all times

Sugar: or I guess liv wants her in her lap at all times and I like Liv

Rey: That's so gay

Sugar: I mean they’re all mostly gay

Sugar: And so are we

Rey: This is fair

Sugar: You didn’t say no ...

Rey: I don't know, I mean, how do they feel about kids? I'm not going to leave Rio out.

Sugar: I wasn’t even thinking that and idc what they think about him either

Rey: Well I do. I'm not going to bring my kid someplace where he's going to be treated poorly.

Sugar: Okay that’s fair. I’ll ask them. But again they deal with me by choice I think, so Rio would be loved

Sugar: Is drinking and cussing okay?

Rey: Uh...

Rey: Sure? Just, not like in excess? So like, no one is getting drunk and I say fuck too much to really care on that front. Rio knows he's not allowed to repeat any of those around other kids/in school because other grown ups don't like when kids use them.

Sugar: got it got it got it!!

Rey: And where is this going to happen.

Sugar: Frannie’s!

Rey: Did you actually check with Frannie?

Sugar: no

Rey: Well you should.

Sugar: three of them already live there?

Rey: Doesn't mean they're willing.

Sugar: *sweat smile emoji* I asked

Sugar: I’ll just rent a place with space!

Rey: ... Or we could have it at mine???

Sugar: Do you want to have it yours?

Rey: Not really, but if Frannie says no, it's fine

Sugar: she said yes!

Rey: Okay, when?

Sugar: I don’t know! Literally any evening, so whatever works for Rio! I mean and obviously will check in with everyone else!

Rey: Fridays or Saturdays are always best.

Sugar: Saturday! That way he can decompress from the school week Friday night!

Rey: Then there you go.

Sugar: How was your day??

Rey: It was okay. Had a short investigation outside of town.

Sugar: Any energy??

Rey: Some but nothing worth writing home about. All residual.

Sugar: What is that?

Rey: Energy from past events just existing in a place. So, in hospitals you'll hear screaming. In prisons you'll hear fights. In homes and buildings like that you'll hear walking, especially on the stairs. Energy that happened a lot and is just repeating itself on loop.(edited)

Sugar: you hearing screaming?????

Rey: Not on this site, no.

Sugar: what did you hear then?

Rey: Footsteps mostly, slamming doors.

Sugar: Nothing that tired you out too much??

Rey: The drive there and back took more effort.

Sugar: Did you listen to the radio on the way there?

Rey: No. I always let myself open up on my way to places, and then on the way back I just wasn't in the mood

Sugar: You okay??

Rey: Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little out of sorts is all.

Sugar: Can I help,

Rey: No, it's fine.

Sugar: Is Rio in bed?

Rey: Yeah, he is.

Sugar: Can I come over? *pleading emoji*

Rey: Princess, you can't come over every time I'm not entirely myself, you'd never leave.

Sugar: But I also miss your lap!

Rey: Time apart can be good.

Sugar: Okay you’re probably right

Rey: I am, besides, I have stuff I need to do tonight anyway

Sugar: Okay!

Sugar: [unsent] *frown emoji*

Rey: I miss you, you know that right?

Sugar: I guess I do

Rey: Princess

Sugar: Well!

Rey: Don't give me that "I guess"

Sugar: You miss me but you don’t want to see me!

Rey: I want to see you, I just can't tonight, Princess. There's stuff I need to do, for me, that you can't be here for.

Sugar: Okay. I’m still sad about it

Rey: As am i.

Sugar: Well, can I see you tomorrow?

Sugar: Lunch maybe

Rey: Sure

Sugar: Okay

Rey: Where do you want to go?

Sugar: Well I’m kinda in the mood for a sandwich but if you’re not a fan of those I’ll think of something else

Rey: Sandwiches are fine

Sugar: Okay great. Early or late afternoon?

Rey: Early is probably best

Sugar: Great. Meet me at my shop at noon?

Rey: Sounds like a date

Sugar: I love dates with you

Rey: And I love dates with you

Sugar: *kiss emoji

#i: sugar motta #t: sugar motta #t: all

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shadows-echoes · 6 years ago

Text

Writer’s Questionnaire

tagged by: @negotiator-on-site and @deviantramblings . Thank you guys for the tag! I spent way too long thinking about these tbh.

Short stories, novels, or poems?

For reading? Novels. I love absolutely delving into a world and completely immersing myself in it. In my experience, poems/short stories are like looking through a window: the more you look, the more you’ll probably see. Reading a novel, or an entire series, is more like walking through a door into another world, and that’s exactly what I want from a story. I want it to completely consume me.

With all of that being said, what’s the exact word count that draws the line between a short story and a novel? 10,000 words might be a short story, but is 25,000 still considered a short story? 100,000? 300,000? Where is the line drawn? Tbh, I’m 100% down with any long-ish story that draws me in.

As for writing… Imma keep it real with you chiefs, the shortest stories I’ve ever written are for D:BH. Pretty much every other fic of mine is 25+ pages, and a couple of the longer ones are closer to, or exceed, 180 pages. I haven’t finished those. They’re all drafts, so to speak, and the amount of editing needed makes me balk whenever I think about it, but they’re there. The stories that I’ve actually finished are all short-ish stories lol (at least in comparison to some of the other stuff I’ve written).

What genre do you prefer reading?

FANTASY!!!! We live in a non-fiction world that can be quite depressing at times. If I’m going to fling myself into a story, I want it to be magical. I want it to have something that this world doesn’t. I want magic and dragons and mystery and soulmates and forbidden love and all the crazy shit.

What genre do you prefer writing?

Fantasy/fiction.

Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person?

It depends on the story. Most times, I’ll write one scene and it develops into an entire plotline as I write it. Other times, like with Of Blood and Biocomponents for example, I’ll spend a lot of time planning everything out before I write it so I can work in a number of clues and Chekov’s guns’, etc.

What music do you listen to while writing?

When I really need to focus, I’ll listen to anything instrumental. That can range from soundtracks (e.g. from The Last of Us, LotR, Hans Zimmer’s stuff), to more individualized and upbeat songs (e.g. Lindsey Stirling, Peter Gundry, Max Richter, Hidden Citizens) to classical (e.g. Chopin, Wieniawski, Mozart), or even just ambiance rain sounds on youtube etc. Otherwise, when I need to get in the mood for a certain scene I have entire playlists dedicated to evoking a certain emotion (e.g angst -obviously-, sadness, love, adrenaline rushes).

Fave books/movies?

I don’t really have any favorite movies so I’m just going to list a whole bunch of books/series I love:

ACoTaR by Saraj Maas

Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi

Learning Not to Drown by Anna Shinoda

Feminist Fight Club by Jessica Bennett

ASoIaF by George Rmartin Rmartingeorge Martin

The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (a classic that breaks my heart)

Night by Elie Wiesel (a classic that breaks my soul)

1984 by George Orwell (a classic we practically live in rn and it terrifies me)

Some Quiet Place by Kelsey Sutton

The Hunt by Andrew Fukuda (the plot twist at the end of this series blew me the fuck away. It’s been years and I still haven’t found my wig)

Any current WIPs?

Only around like… 16? (Excluding all of the half-formed ideas and prompts in my “Graveyard” folder, that is). Which is incredibly surprising to me? I thought it’d be way more. However, most of those WIPs are all… heartbreakingly long and only half-finished, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be?

Lace-up combat boots, black jeans, and a random, probably blank, t-shirt.

Create a character description for yourself:

Hi, I’m Jayde, an average human person who thinks obsessively writing and learning new stuff are fun activities. I look like Idc but I actually care too much; I’m a ride-or-die bitch. Intovert™ (I would much rather have a first conversation w/ someone be about the trolly problem or systems theory instead of the weather). Often low-key enraged by society.

Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing?

Aspects of them? Of course. Actually writing them into a story? Nope. I totally draw on my experiences with certain people to help me write. That’s a given with any writer. However, unless I’m writing a biography on them with a full Chicago-style bibliography then I leave real people the heck alone.

Are you kill-happy with characters?

Depends on the characters. I have killed off a couple, but my soul is fueled on angst and there’s only so much of that a single death can provide. Nah, it’s usually better if people are alive and just… injured or... problematic.

Coffee or tea while writing?

I’m usually most productive writing-wise at night, so it’s either decaffeinated green tea or hot chocolate for me (bc I do try to have some kind of sleep schedule even if I fail with that goal).

Slow or fast writer?

So, so slow.

Where/who/what do you find inspiration from?

Anything, really. Sometimes an idea will just pop into my head and I’ll have to write it. Other times, it’ll start with a feeling, a situation, or an experience that slowly morphs into a fic the more I think about it.

If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be?

Idk what I would be, but I’d love to be literally anything/anyone with some kind of magic or special ability. Like, bruh, I’m already human, gimme something else. Gimme some of the good shit.

Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche?

(Well-written) LOVE TRIANGLES AND MUTUAL PINING!!!!

I’m so fuckn horny on main for a good love triangle. When they’re done badly, they’re atrocious. That’s a given. But when they’re done well??? Hot damn. Like the kind of love triangles in ACoTaR, the Shatter Me series, or even the Trylle series (which first got me into it all). The kind where problems develop naturally between the MC and the first love interest, where the MC has to work with the “bad guy” for some reason or other and it turns out he’s actually super fuckn dope (*cough* Rhysand *Cough*). The kind where the more MC learns about the people she’s/he’s/they’re around, the more their feelings start to shift based on that knowledge.

I do not mean the kind where the MC just can’t make up her/his/their mind bc omg Hot Person #1 is so hot and looks to be carved from marble, but omg Hot Person #2 is also so hot, looks to be carved from marble, and is also mysterious.

As for a cliché I hate (if the poorly written love triangle doesn’t count in and of itself), I seriously dislike the damsel-in-distress thing. Don’t get me wrong, that card can be very well played in some cases, but when it’s the only card in the whole damn deck for 200, 300, 400+ pages? Nah, brah. I’m out. I’m certainly not asking for BAMF MC every time, but like,,, at least give the MC a goddamn spine you absolute cowards.

Fave scenes to write?

Pining and angst, baby.

Most productive time of day for writing?

The ungodly hours between night and day, when the outside world falls quietly into slumber and one’s imagination runs wild in the dark.

Reason for writing?

I started writing because I had some ideas and realized that nobody could/would write them in the exact way I imagined them except for me? I’ve continued writing because it has almost become a coping mechanism to explore and organize my thoughts and feelings and daydreams in some kind of coherent way. Plus it’s fun.

Tagging: @deviantsupporter @deviancy-wasteland @sunstrain @writerscavity @aerynwrites

#tag game #writing

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