#it’s such an ugly feeling and not one i am used to at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writinganon1 · 1 month ago

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@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up?

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon.

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth.

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick.

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it?

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best.

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again.

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness.

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes.

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman.

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop.

Away.

All she needed to do was get away.

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong?

It didn’t happen this way.

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out.

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete.

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose.

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor.

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?”

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing.

Away.

She needed to get away.

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away.

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word.

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass.

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster.

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.”

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something?

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog.

“Kendra?”

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out.

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight.

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair.

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally.

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm.

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing.

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.”

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud.

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook.

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation.

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble.

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles.

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths.

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?”

She was in the middle of dying.

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now.

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.”

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic.

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?”

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up.

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.”

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away.

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?”

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?”

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted.

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room.

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul.

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms.

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm.

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm.

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle.

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her.

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?”

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static.

“I need details.” He pressed.

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.”

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time.

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.”

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach.

“Are we feeling more alive?”

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side.

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.”

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.”

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed.

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered.

“Then neither is yours.”

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?”

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly.

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.”

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.”

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.”

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.”

“Positive?”

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible.

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed.

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.”

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron.

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.”

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep.

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair.

She was home. And she was safe.

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

#Me and my friend were hanging out and she got all excited when I told her I was minoring in creative writing #she asked for me to read me some of my stuff and I agreed LIKE AN IDOIT #well i open my docs and low and behold it's what I posted yesterday #mind you that doc is titled ugly sewer man and his pretty wife #i scroll before she can see the title but at this point I have to read this one #its too late for me to exit the doc without me being suspicious #I read it and she's all like “Well butter my backside and call me a biscuit I forgot you wrote but you do a pretty dang good job!”#I'm just sweating bullets coz I just read her my fanfic of Donatello the ninja turtle and Kendra the dragon chick #she'll never know and I'll never tell her that she was read kendratello fanfic with the names and some of the words replaced #its worth it to say that this isn't the first time that this has happened with her #last time it was the freaking really long one with Leo dying dead and Don also trying to die dead #i went home and cooked myself some pasta to recover because wtf was that #and I was so upset by the situation that instead of sleeping I wrote more kendratello fanfic?#pee pee poo poo #caca dodo even #FOUR AM BABY AND IM STILL HEREEEEEE #Ya'll also got some free stuff to use to help a hommie out if they ever start having a panic attack #tapping method will work on yourself as well if you start feeling freaked out or not in your body.#just cross your arms over your torso and put your left hand on your right shoulder and vice versa tapping your shoulders one at a time #im sleepin now #gn yall #Paige writes

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jimmythejiver · 2 months ago

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I don't have the citations and receipts to prove it, but I swear most creative decisions in the post-Eisner era of Disney has been fueled by the fact that their biggest rival Universal owned the rights to Wicked.

Think about the fact that they had Stephen Schwartz on Pocahontas and Hunchback of Notre Dame during the Renaissance and got him for their send up Enchanted with Idina Menzel in the cast) which like Tangled and Frozen would not be what they are without Wicked, from the stupid titling scheme to initially hiring Kristen Chenoweth as Rapunzel before replacing her with Mandy Moore and ultimately hiring Idina Menzel (again) for Elsa and deciding she ain't so bad after all and hell let's delete Kai and invent Anna the plucky contrast to her to really drive it home.

How about the fact that they bought and made a meh adaptation of Into The Woods, the original 'Kind is not Good' fairytale subversion broadway show. The okay that was a thing Maleficent movies where the king rips off her wings and Mal was misunderstood she was Briar Rose's real protector, see.

The fact that they sure love to market their villains, but boy do they not like to make new ones that aren't corrupted forces of nature that need their heart back to be good again or c.e.o.'s who gave us utopia only to find out he killing the planet oopsies or deceptive seemingly trustworthy Wizard-like authority figures who will stab you in the back in their best interest. A villain is either a twist to be subverted or is the hero you followed along, see. Something tells me the Mufasa movie is their half-apology or reasoning for why Scar is like that when the new Aladdin and Little Mermaid did shit for Jafar or Ursula but make them bland because they didn't have time to bake another uwu, babied misunderstood anti-villain so they made sure they can't chew the scenery or have too big of personalities to latch onto by children either, that be irresponsible.

Disney wants Elphaba and they're mad they don't have the special sauce that Broadway somehow wrangled out of a confusing book full of misdirection that pleased no one but the author and people who hate the Judy Garland film and would never read Frank L. Baum anyway to understand these characters are just different from that film and the shoes were not the Wicked Witch's birthright she wanted their power, it was not that deep, but so much of Maguire's decisions don't work once you account for Baum's that never accounted for the future MGM's art and costuming department, casting and script consolidations, but all Disney sees is, 'That Judy Garland movie should've been ours and fuck these people making sequels and prequels, those should've been ours.'

We see the root of this problem that existed before Eisner took over with Return to Oz under Ron Miller. As a company they've never forgiven anyone for having piece of the Oz pie. Oh, post-Eisner they swung their dick again and made that forgettable James Franco prequel, I almost forgot! A warning to Universal who guarded Wicked's movie rights for decades and the anger they have that Warner Bros. still owns the rights to the Judy Garland film while all of Baum's books are in the public domain before Eisner's lawyers could lobby with Senator Bono to extend copyright law in the 90's.

Eisner cooperated with Warner Bros. to license an Oz sequence with an advance for it's time Wicked Witch animatronic in the Great Movie Ride, in fact a majority of the films i. Thatbride came from WB's vault. Bob Iger let that ride get scrapped for Pirates of the Carribean's update for Red. You know what else Eisner didn't do that Bob Iger did? Not make a stupid Cruella prequel to explain why she's so misunderstood, just a straight live action remake of the cartoon and Jungle Book that was boring, and not a whole lot of these were as churned out in his era as there was bad sequels to the cartoons, but oops Iger's doing that too.

Real point is Wicked the musical premiered in 2003, Eisner stepped down in 2005. Eisner and his people couldn't figure out the Snow Queen as anything but a romantic comedy co-starring a villain love interest because he forgot Ariel existed as a misunderstood and manipulated hero who could have served as a template for another similar Andersen character. Under Iger's people they casted og Elphaba and decided halfway they needed to not make her a villain after all. Coincidence? I think not!

#My Rants #Rants #Confusing #sorry i've sat with these ill feelings forever on why i think disney took a bad turn in quality for years and i blame envy for wicked #also i have thoughts on gregory maguire and how his confessions of an ugly stepsister remains one of the worst books i've ever read #my brother on his own read wicked and considers that his worst book and together we concluded this guy cannot write books #that aren't about misdirection and convoluted connections with a strange gaze towards women and disabled pain #oh and he can't write sacrilegious and borderline smutty stuff without pulling the rug out with catholic guilt wins out xp #wicked broadway phenomena confused us for years assuming it was even half like his book at all and we don't have high hopes for the film #assuming they add shit back in to make it this longer than the stageplay of a two-parter we hope we're wrong #still wish to someday to see an accurate glinda from the baum books somewhere else but i doubt it #manipulative twit billy burke will always cast a long shadow over a character that should've been up there with the wisest wizard chars #but is instead forever reduced to bad mgm script consolidation and bad acting by a racist stage actress #Disney Sucks #jury still out on wicked for me as i've never gotten to see the play and am forced to judge by movie which will be biased to the medium

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