#ladysparrow

[3345rpmz]

• Plastic Passion • ⋅ Music Evolution ⋅ photo: Ladyysparrow @33.45rpmz #plasticpassion #ladysparrow #musicevolution #vinyl #vinylrecords #records #music #sound #vintage #retro #culture #highfidelity #gramophone #cratediggers #turntable #recordaddict #vinyllover #turntablism #hifi #phonograph #vinylgram #vinylcollection #vinylcommunity #vinylcollector #ilovevinyl #vinyljunkies #3345rpm #3345rpmz https://www.instagram.com/p/CEEjtOgp65d/?igshid=17vzgo9jn54cz

[vansparrows]

Been burnt out lately but slowly coming back around to working on things for me, and the brand, let me know in the comments what you want these on, ooh also, you can here my sexy voice on the 2ND Best Podcast, it’s on YouTube, it’s mostly pop culture and Yugioh... #podcast #burnout #mandala #sexy #ladysparrow #vs #talkytalk (at Medford, Oregon) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw-0t3SBBQN/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1nxm3iemx0rt4

[toprotectandscrve]

(okay but logan and the hobw definitely called walter "dad" on accident at least once)

//Honestly he probably thought they were being sarcastic, or didn’t even notice LOL

[kwamihitman]

very curious as to the LadySparrow ((SparrowBug?? RedBird)) dynamic... and the SparrowNoir or BlackBird dynamic... much to consider

[thekaiserreborn]

briefly shows the fuck back up out of nostalgia

HEY FRIENDS. I don’t do much RP anymore, but every once in awhile I come reread old stuff on here and my other digiblogs. What do I do instead?

Well. Whoops. I kinda just started a bit of fanfic some of y’all might enjoy. It’s DaiKen, and much more canon-adjacent than this fucker ever was. I’m having fun. 

I also found out two nights ago some news that made me incredibly happy and wanted to share. 

I just passed my first term of grad school!!!

I’m currently a student in Seton Hill’s Writing Popular Fiction MFA, aka I just got my project fully approved, aka I’m writing the novel of my dreams over the next two-ish years. The first 50 pages is complete and polished. Outline is better than any I’ve ever written for any writing project. 

I still talk about digimon a ton lol, and have been considering a series of analysis essays someplace! And, my dear friend Trevor and I plan to start posting some of the work we’ve been doing on our American Digidestined storyline. So far, setting-wise it incorporates Adventure and 02, as well as Cyber Sleuth and Hacker’s Memory. It’s all OCs with unique crests and canonical digimon. 

Where can I be found, if anyone wants to catch up? A few places. Twitter is easiest: I’m @ LadyOfSparrows there. I’m also on discord, same handle which you can poke me for if you don’t already have it. My fanfic is on ao3, also LadyOfSparrows, and I have a Toyhouse account I’ll be using for that OC digiverse storyline I mentioned. That’s just LadySparrow. 

Here’s links, though:  Twitter: https://twitter.com/LadyOfSparrows  AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfSparrows  Toyhouse: https://toyhou.se/LadySparrow 

I’m not sure I can ever express how much digirp meant to me. I still look back on all the shit I did here fondly. I was in a dark, dark place for a good chunk of undergrad and after, too. But I’m maybe finally pulling my shit together as an adult. 

Much love to everyone who RP’d with me, chatted with me, sent me memes, liked my posts. Thank you for helping me form who I am today. 

[legatexrikke]

((You guys can find me at @ladysparrow if you want, she’s in Tamriel currently on a grand adventure with her husband))

[ecotone99]

The Little Girl Who Wasn't, From Lady Sparrow

The Little Girl Who Wasn't, from LadySparrow

I lived in a house from hell for four years, from age eleven to almost sixteen. There was constantly something happening. Doors flying open and shut, voices, footsteps. Nothing ever stayed where you put it. I was alone there a lot because both my parents worked and I was constantly terrified.

One of the most gut-level disturbing things though was the little girl in my bathroom. Every time I walked past my bathroom door (which was constantly since it was right outside my bedroom) I saw a little girl with blond curled hair and a rose-colored dress. She just stood there, staring, looking like a photograph from 1905. I started keeping the door closed so I could walk by without seeing her, but she was always there when I opened it. Once I stepped in past her, I couldn't see her anymore but I could feel her there. She scared me, but I felt really sorry for her because she was trapped there, just like me, but probably forever.

As the years went by and things in the house continued to get worse, she started seeming... darker. I started feeling like she wasn't really a little girl. I knew there was something ugly in the house and I felt like it was presenting this sympathetic image to me. Then I started thinking I was completely losing my mind.

One day, when I was 14, I had a friend from out of town come stay with me for a week. I hadn't told her anything whatsoever about the house because I didn't think she would come if I did. Right after she got there we were sitting in my room and she left to go to the bathroom. About a minute later she walked back in with a puzzled look on her face and said: "So, there's a little girl in your bathroom". "Um, I, yeah she hangs out in there. Blond hair?" "Curls? Pink dress? Yeah. You know that's not really a little girl, don't you?" I almost threw up. I was so relieved and terrified and excited and ready to run out of the house screaming. She wouldn't use my bathroom for the rest of the week and I started using it as little as possible without pissing off my parents (who did not want to believe).

Eventually, we moved out and I could not have been happier. I distanced myself from it mentally as much as I could. Then, when I was 18, I took another friend on a road trip to pack up a few things I'd left in the house (my parents hadn't managed to sell it, and wouldn't for 5 more years). The minute we got on the property, my friend seemed uncomfortable. When we came around the bend in the long, steep driveway, he went completely white. I could tell something was wrong, but he insisted he was OK, so we got to work. After a while, he asked to use the bathroom and I directed him to mine. Not 20 seconds after he left, he came running back in, gasping for breath and slammed the bedroom door behind him. He started babbling about a little blond girl who isn't really a little girl. All of a sudden he went dead still, looked me in the eye, and very solemnly said "She's not happy. With you. You left, and you weren't supposed to". We threw whatever we could grab in two trips in my car (after I walked him to another bathroom and waited outside the door) and got the fuck out at top speed.

submitted by /u/Panda-Lover2020 [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/ezmdgm/the_little_girl_who_wasnt_from_lady_sparrow/ via Blogger https://ift.tt/385695P

[themightylevi-blog]

The Little Girl Who Wasn’t, from LadySparrow

I lived in a house from hell for four years, from age eleven to almost sixteen. There was constantly something happening. Doors flying open and shut, voices, footsteps. Nothing ever stayed where you put it. I was alone there a lot because both my parents worked and I was constantly terrified.

One of the most gut-level disturbing things though was the little girl in my bathroom. Every time I walked past my bathroom door (which was constantly since it was right outside my bedroom) I saw a little girl with blond curled hair and a rose-colored dress. She just stood there, staring, looking like a photograph from 1905. I started keeping the door closed so I could walk by without seeing her, but she was always there when I opened it. Once I stepped in past her, I couldn’t see her anymore but I could feel her there. She scared me, but I felt really sorry for her because she was trapped there, just like me, but probably forever.

As the years went by and things in the house continued to get worse, she started seeming... darker. I started feeling like she wasn’t really a little girl. I knew there was something ugly in the house and I felt like it was presenting this sympathetic image to me. Then I started thinking I was completely losing my mind.

One day, when I was 14, I had a friend from out of town come stay with me for a week. I hadn’t told her anything whatsoever about the house because I didn’t think she would come if I did. Right after she got there we were sitting in my room and she left to go to the bathroom. About a minute later she walked back in with a puzzled look on her face and said “So, there’s a little girl in your bathroom”. “Um, I, yeah she hangs out in there. Blond hair?” “Curls? Pink dress? Yeah. You know that’s not really a little girl, don’t you?” I almost threw up. I was so relieved and terrified and excited and ready to run out of the house screaming. She wouldn’t use my bathroom the rest of the week and I started using it as little as possible without pissing off my parents (who did not want to believe).

Eventually we moved out and I could not have been happier. I distanced myself from it mentally as much as I could. Then, when I was 18, I took another friend on a road trip to pack up a few things I’d left in the house (my parents hadn’t managed to sell it, and wouldn’t for 5 more years). The minute we got on the property, my friend seemed uncomfortable. When we came around the bend in the long, steep driveway, he went completely white. I could tell something was wrong, but he insisted he was OK, so we got to work. After a while he asked to use the bathroom and I directed him to mine. Not 20 seconds after he left, he came running back in, gasping for breath, andand slammed the bedroom door behind him. He started babbling about a little blond girl who isn’t really a little girl. All of a sudden he went dead still, looked me in the eye, and very solemnly said “She’s not happy. With you. You left, and you weren’t supposed to”. We threw whatever we could grab in two trips in my car (after I walked him to another bathroom and waited outside the door) and got the fuck out at top speed.

[vansparrows]

This year I have to say that I took most of this year by the enchanted antlers, I created a enamel pin, opened an Etsy and really dove deep into my art. This episode really made me rethink what a job can be, and I cant wait to create more in 2018! #jaxprints17 #ladysparrow #pins #aid #cot

[legatexrikke]

((Part of me really wants to bring Rikke back but I just revived my other 2 blogs so. I don’t know! Y’all can catch me on @ladysparrow since she’s in Tamriel right now))

[mordreddeschain]

{ !--interlude |

          The landscape grows colder and colder, but the howling wind is nothing compared to the howling in Mordred’s body, the rage of having been pushed aside, the pain of knowing he is second in <can calah>’s thoughts.

     -- He doesn’t know when he started calling the mage ‘can calah’. The name-phrase sits comfortably in his mind as if it had always been there, the only name the shaman man has or needs. The name <lady rose> calls him makes no sense to him; has no vibrance, no truth.

But <can calah> is absorbed, entire, by <lady rose>. There is no room between them for him. He stalks them to the crumbling village, snapping his teeth at the dim sound of stirring dragons in the distance, keening quietly and clawing at his throat when he feels the hum of the portal in the College, the portal that some dragon-blooded little saviour had brought there with no ken of its power. He stalks them to the crumbling village, where they pause and consider.

In-doors, Mordred understands, and his spirit quickens. Clarity bleeds in. Yes. In-doors. Take me, <can calah>. Leave me and I will... I...

<can calah> turns to look at him. It is like the tug of a leash. Mordred emerges from hiding, shivering violently with cold his body feels but his mind disregards, and creeps towards his guardian.

“I have RULES for you.” He says it with such arcane emphasis that there is no other way to interpret it. “You will follow them. If you do not, I will cast you from me. If you then persist, I will kill you.”

He doesn’t want to believe <can calah>. <can calah> doesn’t want to kill him. But he looks into <can calah>’s eyes, and recoils from the resolve he sees there. <lady rose> is strength. Mordred knows that now.

     “You will not touch Sparrow unless given leave.      You will not touch anything unless given leave.      You will remain within my sight and reach.”

Mordred moans, reaches out to beat at him with hands that can barely form fists in their nearly-frostbitten state. <can calah> grabs onto him, keeps him still, pegging him in place with a hard glare.

“Attend me, wretched child. I will give you food, I will give you shelter, and I... will do my best to give you the rest. As long as my RULES are followed. What say thee, son of Los?”

The tears of frustration and helpless fury freeze on his lashes. “Mordred hears you very well,” he rasps, even as he tries to wrench out of <can calah>’s grip.

“You are cold,” <can calah> says, and his voice is different now, and Mordred stops struggling. This voice does something different to him, quiets him, and he latches onto it and drinks deeply, swooning. “Come in out of the cold, son of Roland. I will give thee rest.”

-- }

[whimsygardens-archives]

@ladysparrow

          It was times like these that Xiro thought that maybe he should have gone for a desk job. The wind was howling, and torrents of rain poured down upon him as he sloshed his way through the wet and the mud. There was a township somewhere up ahead--or at least, he hoped there was a township up ahead--but the rain was coming down so hard that it was hard to see further than a few feet ahead. 

         He pulled his cloak tighter around him, though at this point it was doing little to keep out the wet and cold. It wasn’t good to be out in this kind of weather, even for him. But there was nothing to do except continue onward in the hopes that the town was closer than he had originally thought.

         Somewhere up ahead, a dog barked, and he glanced up in time to see the silhouette of the animal a few paces ahead, its master close by. He squinted. He could sense that this person was someone with no small amount of power, a Hero, most likely, but that didn’t automatically make them friendly. He came to a stop. 

          “Hail!” he shouted over the rolling thunder, his voice carrying despite all the noise. “Who goes?”  

[royalreaver]

ladysparrow replied to your post:MAGIC!Anon says: "It's not the Midas touch: If the muse touches someone for the next 2 days, that person will have a sudden (terribly timed) orgasm. Oops?" Have fun, big guy. ;)

((this is a nightmare waiting to happen omfg))

"Hello, I don't believe we've met before...although I must admit you look strikingly familiar..."

[vansparrows]

Here is a breakdown of my latest work, also the last picture is of me and my family and my beautiful wife! That's right lady sparrow got married! #wedding #ladysparrow #vansparrow #sketch #ink #photoshop #antlers #moon #lady #lunchpost #draweveryday #morenewworktocome