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underratedandoverit · 1 year ago

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Speak My Mind

“i need you now” kisses with orangekip :3c - requested by @midnightpretenders0

“i need you now” kisses: them fisting your shirt into their palms, your hands under their shirt, cold fingertips against their skin, and panting, moving down from their lips to their neck, soft moans that turn louder, shirts being pulled off haphazardly (from this list by @jasminesfury)

~2,5k words orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)

okay if you saw me post this a few days ago lets pretend you didnt. i put it back in the burner after not really liking it and then i got an idea how to add to it so now its back and its better and yeah i do like it a lot more. also i deleted the original post and accidentally drafted the reblogged version so i cant reply to the ask again or edit the original so heres a new post sorry

it starts fluffy, it develops into something more heated, moves to a hurt/comfort territory and ends with comfortable levels of body worship and comfort/fluff. i marked this as mature on ao3 but it doesnt really go anywhere that deep, but just in case since it touches some topics.

cw: body image issues and whatever kind of extreme fluff body worship brings. its not like explicit at all, but you know.

(im also hesitantly going to put out a request for feedback for this one like. i dont want constructive criticism, i would just like to hear what you think if you read it. with this one it would mean a lot as im extremely unsure how i feel about it. so if you could spare a word or two after reading it would be very appreciated ✌)

@stormbornpirate @ss-trashboat

on ao3

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Cassidy’s fingers curled around the coils of Kip’s hair absentmindedly, watching the television screen from the corner of his eye without really paying attention to what was happening on it. He was unfamiliar with the game Kip had picked but enjoyed observing it every now and then nonetheless, for what little attention he was able to pay to the bright colors and fast moving objects. Or maybe it really was that Cassidy enjoyed spending time with Kip, no matter what he was doing.

At least the game seemed to be less hectic than the stuff he usually played, as was suggested by the much calmer presence Kip had sitting on the floor in front of the couch, and the much less frequent use of curse words. He still occasionally let out a few curses or otherwise loud, grumbling noises when faced with difficulties, but Cassidy playing with his hair seemed to help calm him down rather quickly whenever that happened.

They existed in the living room in perfect harmony, one’s presence in the room calming the other, just sitting there doing their own things as Cassidy scrolled through his phone with his other hand.

Pausing the game, Kip straightened his back, stretching his arms over his head, landing one of them on top of Cassidy’s as he brought them back down. Interlacing their fingers together Kip carefully tilted his head back, looking at the blond with a smile as Cassidy continued to play with his hair, still trying to focus on his phone.

But without the sunglasses Kip could see the softening look in his eyes and the small smile tucking in the corner of his lips, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Clementine?”

Cassidy still didn’t look back at him, but let out a quiet sound of acknowledgment. Kip carefully squeezed the hand he was holding with his own.

“I love you.”

Cassidy finally broke eye contact with his phone, shifting his gaze to the Brit, watching Kip looking at him basically upside down with his head tilted back against the couch cushion. It wasn’t a new thing for Kip to be telling him this, or to break the news at a random moment, but something about this very moment he decided to do it yet again it felt genuine. Serene.

Before Cassidy could speak up, Kip carefully pushed himself off from the floor, not so carefully moving to the couch as he basically flopped on top of Cassidy who had just been lounging on the couch so far. Kip just chuckled at his slightly annoyed groan, wrapping arms around the blond’s midsection as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, letting out a sigh. He got so comfortable so fast that Cassidy didn’t even have time to stop him, just accepting that Kip was there now, acting almost like a weighted blanket on him.

Shaking his head a little, Cassidy could feel his lips twisting into a soft smile though as he ran a hand through Kip’s hair again.

“I love you too.”

The content sound Kip let out sounded almost like purring to him, vibrating through Cassidy’s entire being. He was sure Kip could feel his heart rate accelerating against his own chest, as he could feel the smile on the Brit’s lips against the skin of his neck. Kip didn’t say anything, but it was fairly obvious, especially based on the soft sounds he continued to make as he pressed a soft kiss on Cassidy’s neck.

“Clementine.”

His voice was barely louder than a whisper, peppered with kisses as Kip continued to shower him in small pecks of affection, carefully tracking his neck up to his jaw. Cassidy’s breathing tightened a bit as he felt Kip’s hands moving from underneath him, crawling up his sides onto his chest, carefully tucking on the front of the white t-shirt he was wearing.

Kip sat up, easily straddling him, hands pressed on Cassidy’s chest as Kip smiled down at him, tilting his head to the side a little, almost acting coy in the moment. Cassidy ditched the phone from his hand, arms wrapping around Kip’s waist, hands slowly sneaking up to his neck as he carefully pulled the Brit lower until they were face to face.

Kip chuckled at him a little, but the soft blush lingering on his face from Cassidy taking the control was very obvious.

“My,” Kip whispered, leaning closer to press a little kiss on Cassidy’s lips. “Sweet.” Another kiss. “Little.” Kiss. “Clemen--”

He couldn’t finish the last word before Cassidy yanked him close, pressing their lips together. His hand brushing into Kip’s hair and the back of his head pulled him closer, the almost embarrassingly unintentional moan Kip let out against his mouth allowing Cassidy to deepen the kiss. Kip obviously didn’t mind it, but his hands grabbing onto the chest of Cassidy’s shirt with such noticeable force were a clear indication that maybe he desired something more.

Kip barely let go of the shirt as Cassidy finally pulled them apart, both audibly catching their breath. The blush had definitely gotten stronger on Kip’s face, cheeks glowing red as he rested his forehead against Cassidy’s, eyes closed, trying to calm himself down. This was what he had intended, sure, but the intensity still always caught him off guard when it came to Cassidy. He wasn’t used to this, this being one of the few activities his boyfriend decided to show eagerness to participate in.

“Cle-clementine…”

Cassidy smiled at him, hands running through Kip’s hair and down to his neck, gently nudging the neckline of his shirt. It was fairly obvious what he wanted, Kip obliging as he pushed away from Cassidy’s face, helping him pull off the shirt. As he sat there on top of the blond, eyes still closed as Kip was trying his best to still compose himself after the air that had been knocked out of him with the first kiss, he could feel gentle fingertips against his exposed skin as Cassidy traced them along his abs, climbing up to his chest.

“Has anyone told you before how hot you are?”

Kip’s brows furrowed a bit at the sudden shift of the tone, eyes opening as he looked down at Cassidy, the bright blue eyes staring back at him almost too intensely again. Kip swallowed thickly, trying not to think about the question too much, but he carefully shook his head after a moment.

“No, not really. Not like… This, I guess.”

“Well,” Cassidy smiled at him, almost a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth as his hands firmly planted themselves onto Kip’s chest. “I do. I think you’re hot.”

Kip could feel his whole face heating up, surely Cassidy could feel his racing heartbeat through his chest as well. He watched as the blond smiled, the look almost unbearably adorable on his face, his hands sliding down Kip’s sides as he took in the sight of his boyfriends unclothed upper body sitting on top of him.

“I think you’re really hot,” Cassidy mumbled, averting eyes with Kip as he was now slightly blushing as well, a soft pink shade covering his face as his hands slid down to Kip’s thighs. The Brit just turned his face away, almost ashamed at the sudden compliments as he felt Cassidy’s fingertip drumming against his toned legs.

“…Shut up.”

Cassidy chuckled at him softly, hands easily slipping to Kip’s lower back from their previous position, making the other man noticeably shiver against the touch.

“I mean it though.”

“…No you don’t.”

Cassidy’s hands stopped, brows furrowing a little as he glanced up at Kip’s face, noticing the look that the Brit still wasn’t returning to him, biting his lower lip as he looked almost ashamed to be in the position he was in. This was far from the first time they had been like this, and yet this time specifically had triggered something in Kip that obviously made him more uncomfortable than he led on.

“Kip--”

“It’s fine,” he stated, cutting Cassidy off, hands finally letting go of the t-shirt he had been holding onto this entire time, Kip trying to push himself off of the blond. He got up on his feet, Cassidy quickly sitting up on the couch, hand reaching for Kip, grabbing a hold of his wrist.

“Wait. What’s wrong?”

Kip didn’t turn back towards him, he just stood there, feeling the burning sensation of Cassidy’s hand around his wrist, holding him in place. He didn’t try to fight it, but it was obvious how much Kip wanted to just walk away from all of this, despite not making the full effort to do so. Cassidy wasn’t going to let him go though, knowing that whatever it was that pushed him over the edge like this, it had something to do with him, considering how fine Kip had been with all of this just moments before.

“Hey.” Cassidy gently tucked Kip’s arm, carefully pulling him back on the couch. Kip obliged, sitting down, eyes still averting looking back at Cassidy, the blushing having turned into shame he didn’t want to share with him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but it felt like the right move. Kip took in a sharp breath, but remained silent. Cassidy carefully observed the side of his face, trying to read half of the look he could see, honestly focusing more on the racing heartbeat of Kip’s that he could feel through the hold he had of his wrist.

“...I still mean what I said though.”

Kip tensed up at his words, just as Cassidy thought. So this was really what it was about. Before Kip could argue with him, Cassidy let go of his wrist, shifting on the couch as he pushed himself up, easily straddling Kip’s lap. Much to his surprise the other man wasn’t trying to push him away, but Kip still avoided eye contact, almost as if he was just playing along to let Cassidy do his thing and be happy about it more than anything else.

With a soft smile on his lips, Cassidy’s hand gently cupped Kip’s cheek with one hand, carefully turning his face towards him. Kip’s eyes almost immediately fell down and away from his, but Cassidy tried not to let it discourage him. Instead he grabbed a hold of Kip’s right hand, watching his eyes follow along with it as Cassidy lifted it up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.

“I love you,” he stated softly, pressing another kiss on the back of Kip’s hand. “I love every inch of you.”

Kip didn’t stop him this time, Cassidy taking it as a good sign as he kissed his knuckles before peppering little kisses on each of his fingers. “The way you move your fingers is… Mesmerizing.”

He could feel that Kip wanted to pull his hand away from him after that statement, but Cassidy firmly kept his hold, moving to gently kissing Kip’s fingertips, Cassidy’s voice was barely louder than a whisper between each kiss. “I love the way your touch is always so gentle even when you don’t intend it to be so.”

Kip just watched him, quietly, as Cassidy proceeded to kiss up his hand and then his tattooed arm before reaching his shoulder, leaning slightly closer to his ear until the hot breath tickled him slightly, sending shivers down Kip’s spine.

“The way you’re decorated makes you such a work of art I can’t stop admiring you.”

“Orange, please.”

Cassidy pulled away a little, trying not to let the rare usage of his name rather than the affectionate nickname that escaped from Kip’s lips bother him, pressing a quick kiss on his lips instead. “Shh. I love your voice, but not now.”

As Kip fell silent again, slightly taken aback by Cassidy’s almost assertive behavior, the blond pressed a soft peck on his cheek. “When you laugh and your dimples are showing, it drives me insane.”

He could both feel and hear Kip’s breathing tightening up with each word, but Cassidy was far from being done as he carefully kissed the Brit on the eyelid he closed on instinct as Cassidy got close, trying to ignore the mild taste of salt he was getting back. “The intensity in your eyes makes them sparkle brighter than the stars in the night sky.”

As Cassidy moved over to the other eye, not only was he able to taste them, but the tears were visible this time as well. He didn’t want to stop, having the feeling in his heart how important that moment was, but Cassidy gave Kip a moment to process everything before he leaned in again, for another soft kiss on the other eyelid.

“When you look at me, I feel like the most loved person in the world.” Cassidy pulled away, leaning closer to press a kiss, slow and methodical this time, on Kip’s lips again. “And I want you to feel that too.”

Kip didn’t say anything, but Cassidy was able to see the floodgates truly open just before Kip leaned closer, burying his face into the blond’s chest, letting out an audible sob. A soft smile crossed Cassidy’s lips as his arms wrapped around him, pulling Kip as close to him as possible, hand running through his hair slowly as his other hand rubbed his back.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

They sat there, in each other's arms, for a good while as Kip just quietly cried into Cassidy’s shirt, the muffled sobs melting his heart. As bad as making Kip act like this was making him feel, something in Cassidy told him that he sorely needed this. They didn’t talk about it a lot, but he knew Kip worked extra hard to keep up with his appearance and yet rarely got compliments on it, for whatever reason he really didn’t understand. What Cassidy didn’t know was that it was such a taboo subject for him that this was going to be the reaction to it, but at the same time he was happy that they got to this point.

If anything, he was able to say the things in a way he truly felt and meant directly to him. It wasn’t about proving a point, it was about showing Kip that Cassidy actually cared.

After a while Kip’s sobs quieted down, his face still buried in Cassidy’s chest as he leaned closer, pressing a little kiss in the Brit’s hair, getting a soft whine back from him.

“…Clementine.” His voice was barely a whisper, but the return of that nickname made Cassidy smile just a little bit wider. “I love you.”

Cassidy’s arms unwrapped from around him, the blond leaning slightly away to put some space between the two of them before his hands reached for Kip’s face, carefully lifting it up to look at him. Cassidy’s heart fluttered a little at the glimmer of tears in his eyes, but more importantly at the soft smile now crossing Kip’s lips as well. The Brit was the first one to lean closer, it being his turn to steal a kiss from Cassidy’s lips.

“I love you too.”

#fic #request #character: kip sabian #character: orange cassidy #ship: orangekip #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

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butchdykenormallen · 10 months ago

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HHHHHHHHH. IT IS DONE.

under cut cause its so fucking big. oh my god.

OK PLOT TIME. crucial detail here -> peter and walt (and all the other phonies) work under steven in this roleplay. its cool

peter and walt are tasked with taking care of the restaurant (as usual) and end up just kinda walking around, taking in the scenery. dave and jack are fucking off in the saferoom as usual, and once *breaktime rolls around, peter decides its a *great idea to sleep in the springlock suit. this leads to an obvious springlocking issue. peter wakes up, wiggles his way out safely, and then has his right arm springlocked into the suit. luckily enough, peter just so happens to carry around a *FIRE AXE for this exact occasion. peter has walt chop his arm off, which hurts like hell, and all is fine now! well, except for the fact that peter has one arm. at this point, peter and walt start to get a little more close in the fact that walt basically saved peter from having to *gnaw his arm off, starve, or drag a springlock suit around with him. none of these options are good. most of the rest of this time is spent surveying the land, watching dave and jack hit a jig on stage, *getting chased around by a strange fruit who kept making them kiss and hold hands. the usual roblox experience. BUT!! during this, walt realized he had feeeeelings. and peter had em too!!! so ol petey decided, since carolines already left his sad little ass, maybe it'd be alright to give it a shot here? and he didn't get a no! he got. left in silence. because walt and all of his catholic guilt needed to deal with this. and peter was left with permanent embarrassment. AFTER THIS we didnt roleplay for a while cause school, but when we got back on, the. entire server knew our homosexual little antics. surveying and dave and jack antics later, off to discord we went! this was more of an easier way to roleplay without the constant lag we both got from joining, and the other users we had to deal with. (see 5.) we still played roblox however! and this is where the AU DIVERGING MOMENT COMES!!! since walt feels genuinely awful for making peter feel bad, even *after basically rejecting him in fear, he hides off in the springlock suit. as peter soon finds him and realizes whats going on, he assures peter that hes in NO WAY angry with him, and supports his decision! to which walt is so happy with! one problem down, one more to go. walt is stuck. peter jostles him out just a bit to get his arms free, and as walt gets his right leg out, CHOMPED!!! his other leg is fucked!!!! so peter has to use the fire axe (see 3.) once more to cut it off and free him. except in this moment, there weren't any other *players around to lend bandages. so peter ends up tearing off part of his shirt to keep it from bleeding, which *does not work as well as he needs it to. he hauls walt off to the lunch room to go inspect the damage and get him some food, which causes *The Lettuce Issue. after this little mishap, walt appears cold, leading to peter taking his shirt off, revealing an absolutely nerdy little band tanktop he wore, and wraps him up in it. this doesn't help anythng, as walt slowly starts to lose consciousness, and eventually succumbs to his injuries.

(^ THIS IS A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE! we decided not to cut our roleplay short since we didn't... actually have any idea how to keep it going after this. these guys r our ELEMENT. so we devised author powers and just. reset it.)

in THIS RENDITION, peter DOES know how to tie off walts injury!! everything happens as regular, except for walt dying! hes now just.. slightly more dependant on peter. he has his cane as usual, its just not very well developed for a missing leg. after this time, they're grateful nothing awful happened to them, and all is well! they even talk out their feelings and realize its mutual! everything's going pretty smooth. except. for the fact they can't do their jobs as effectively anymore. and will most definitely be turned into scrap metal by *steven soon. oh no! (ITS HERE THE ROLEPLAY HAS PAUSED DUE TO SCHOOL. as is stands, the roleplays going in this direction!! vvv)

steven learns their extreme fear of death by recycler, and reassures them that he genuinely enjoys their continued existance here, and that they'd still be more valuable than all of the employees combined! they're fine for now. except for when dave and jack decide to kill a child and not clean up the *corpse. NOW theres a significant issue that peter and walt have stumbled on, and steven is blackmailing them with, ONCE AGAIN. death by recycler. YAY

CITATIONS TIME (why must my mental be so ill.)

A BREAK IN FAZBENDERS??? ya :3 steven was so generous

“great” in quotations. either that or sleeping on a booth like a corpse

NOT MY DOING. CREATOR JUST. LENDED PETER MORPH AN AXE. ALL THE OTHER PHONIES HAVE GUNS BTW.

how would he gnaw his arm off. or starve. wjatever

roblox players + jack and dave eggplant and tangerine morphs = UGHHHHHH

we roleplayed a TON after this but it was mostly just surveying and ooc chat

no players in the saferoom with us, unfortunately! all off roleplaying in the main area.

you'll see later on.

LETTUCE ISSUE! funniest part ever. walt falls handfirst into the lettuce container and just sits there in lukewarm lettuce. this is the reason hes cold. the lettuce is also a recurring issue (peter tried it and nearly died /j. this prompted walt to also try and ALSO nearly die. /j)

bet you forgot steven was here

ya dave and jack USUALLY do something with the corpse. in this particular roblox game, in the vent of the saferoom is a godred shrine. i headcanon they stuff them there so steven doesn't get onto them for murdering children.

wait i just realized as i tagged you in rogeter. have you ever heard of me and my friends concoction known as peterwalt.

you have not but i am So intrigued

#savetag #THIS IS SOMUCH. IVE NEVER WRITTEN CITATIONS FOR LORE I JUST DIDNT WANT A BUNCH OF PARENTHESES

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theos-writing · 4 years ago

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EDS Chess headcanons

me? projecting? yes. i thought it'd be nice to bring a different type of diversity to the fandom and i can really see Chess having eds, so i thought it would be nice to come out with my hcs. slight warning, this is very long

for those who dont know: Ehlers Danlos Syndrom (EDS) is a genetic connective tissue disorder that affects collagen, that is one of the main proteins of the body and is in charge of keeping us together. there are thirteen types of EDS, but overall, the main symptoms are: joint weakness and fragility, stretchy and fragile skin, and chronic pain. people with EDS, if they do any sports, usually have a short career in them, since growth spurts or short periods of time without exercise can make them lose muscle mass easily, and in consequence, not have the compensation for their weak joints and end up feeling pain and dislocate things easily. wanna learn more go to this site (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

this is mainly based on my experiences. eds is different for each person.

Riley never did the stabby thing au

TW: addiction, injury, doctors, medicine and medical exams

Chess had a terrible balance when she was little

she was always falling and getting hurt

so her parents decided to sign her up for gymnastics when she was about four

she was really good at it

the teachers did say she had hypermobility

it wasnt a problem tho, it could even make her a better gymnast if she wanted to keep going!

at the beginning, she got hurt a lot

she twisted her ankles and complained of pain

everyone just brushed it off as growing pains and said that as she got stronger, she would get better

and she did!

for a long time, she had nearly no pain and only dislocated a couple joints

but when she was about twelve, that started getting worse

she was feeling her joints go out of place more often and she was feeling more pain

at this point, she doesnt want to tell anyone

all the pain was just growth pain, they would stop one day

until she started having this weird pain on her shoulder. it wouldnt go away, no matter how long she put ice on it or how she trained. it wasnt stopping.

she was fourteen and on the beginning of freshman year when that happened.

after a while, the pain was just a normal thing for her

it was annoying as hell and she hated it, but she wasnt going to let it stop her gymnastics

so she kept training.

but the pain started spreading. her other shoulder, her elbows and wrists

it was getting hard to write

but she could write on the computer so that didnt affect her studies

she was more concerned about gymnastics

she was amongst the top ranked on the country

even in her worst event, she was still in third place

she couldnt give up now

so she ignored the pain

until she couldnt anymore.

Chess was just practicing when she felt this massive pain shot up her shoulder

she let go of the high bar and fell

the way she landed, half on her feet, half falling down took a turn on her knee

she felt it leave the place where it was supposed to be and she screamed

her knee was nearly on the side of her leg

she panicked, not because of the pain, but because she knew what this meant: her career as a gymnast was over before it had even started

she was fifteen, a sophomore in high school, one of the youngest people recruited for the next olympics

now, all that was over

knowing that hurt more than her knee

Chess needed surgery so they could fix it

and at least four months of rehab to get it to normal use again

but as she thought, no more gymnastics. ever.

she cried for days. if she didnt have gymnastics, what did she have?

then one day, after a really bad pain crisis, she was given vicodin

it felt... good. so she accepted the next time they offered her. and whenever they would ask after, she always had pain.

it wasnt a lie. she had a lot of pain. and with weeks of bed rest, she was developing more and more pain areas. her back, her hips, her ankles, her neck, everything hurt

but she didnt need meds for it. she needed meds so she could fill up that void inside her

she recovered, partially. she still used crutches for months

finally, two months before the end of the year, she was back to walking normally and even doing p.e.

so she decided to try out for the cheer team. it wasnt gymnastics, but it was better than nothing

Kate tried out with her and also quit gymnastics for her

"a best friend wont let you suffer on your own" she said

they both got in, and when they went back to school after the summer, Chess was already fully healed

but she didnt stop with the meds

she would say she knows what happened that year but for her its all a blur her mind blocked out

she dropped Farrah, she knew that, and the younger girl hated her for it

to be honest, Chess also did. she hurt someone, even if not on purpose, she hurt someone. if Farrah landed weird she could've hurt herself as much as Chess did or even die and that would be on Chess.

so for a while she agreed to try to stop

but the pain and the withdrawals were too much

so she went back to it

until the next year. after the sleepover. after what Kate said.

and it was hard. so hard. but she made it through a day, then a week, and a month, and it got a bit easier.

the only thing that got to her was the pain. where the hell was the pain coming from

she refused to take any pain meds for it, she was scared she would slide back. she dealt with that pain for so long, it couldnt be that bad

but it was. she was starting to subluxate and dislocate things almost every week

after another scare with her knee, the school board and her parents decided it would be better if she went off the team

she was distraught again.

but now, what they wanted were answers. they went to doctor after doctor after doctor for months. no one really believed her

she researched and looked for answers on her own until she came across EDS

it sounded... like her. the pain, the dislocations, the short lived life in gymnastics, the skin that would always end up with massive scars, the hypermobility she had since a young age

she talked to her parents about that, and they agreed to take her to a geneticist

she was terrified going to that appointment

she was scared the geneticist would say what everyone else did, tell her its for attention or for the meds

but she listened. she listened while they told Chess' story and their family health history. she did a physical exam and didnt say anything until they were done talking

then she said Chess was right. she did have EDS.

Chess cried when she was told that. she finally had a diagnosis. she wasnt crazy, she wasnt faking it. she had an actual illness

it did mean she would most likely feel pain for the rest of her life, tho

but it also meant she could stop with the E.R. visits and the dirty looks from doctors and the countless blood tests and scans that got them no where

that didnt mean no scans or blood work, but those meant something. those were now to check if she was alright, not to check if she was telling the truth. and it felt so good

she told Kate right when she got home

at first she was scared, but they spent all night reading the articles Chess' doctor had sent to them and watching videos of other people with EDS, and she wasnt scared anymore. not as much anyways

#wow this was long #but im proud of it :)#chess watt #we are the tigers #we are the tigers musical #we are the tigers headcanons #kate watt #kate dalton #nix writes #addiction tw #doctors tw

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oc-and-art-review-reblog · 3 years ago

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name: wildheart specise: fire element draco-morphiad (explained below) pronouns: she/her

specise info: draco-morphiads are, basically, a specise of sexless magic cat furries. each one of them controls one of twelve elements (although two of them are special); fire (fire elements are also able to control one type of igneous rock, differing depending on the individual), water, earth, air, plant, plague, void (this void being concentrated everythingness and named for its pitch black color, there may only be one void element at a time and only two have ever been recorded), quantum strings (this has been proven to be possible, but never recorded), gemstone, metal, sound and light. draco-morphiads have a unique internal anatomy, their body cavity is filled entirely with liquid magic. this magic contains their consiousness and, when needed, forms organs to keep the draco-morphiad alive. draco-morphiads also have whats known as elemental bits, an extra part of their body made from their element or regular body part modified by it. draco eye color is also generally dictated by their element. just a draco-morphiad generation (they live tens of thousands of years) ago, they had an expansive interdimensional (this takes place in a multiverse) empire. but for reasons now lost to time, it fell. the specise took heavy casualties, although it was nowhere close to extinction. theyre rarer now, and... scattered, to say the least. their natural ability to create interdimensional portals doesnt help that. given that draco-morphiads are sexless, their native language's pronouns were dependant on element, but wildheart was raised by a sexed specise tens of thousands of years after the near extinction of the language (plus draco-morphiads were invented to explain her so i think she should get to keep her pronouns).

apperance: wildheart has brown fur, which turns abruptly black (like, theres a straight, non-gradiant divide between the back and brown) at the waist, so approximately half of her is black and half is brown . she has blood red eyes. fire element eyes are usually orange, but this is explained. she has a pair of half-crescent obsidian wings coming out of her shoulderblades, each one flanked by three floating obsidian triangles. embedded in her chest is a peice of obsidian shaped like a broken heart, and her claws are obsidian as well. she has a couple notches in each ear and a scar over her eye.

story: wildheart is born on a remote planet in a remote universe. save for her and her littermate, their parents and their older sibling squirreltail. soon after the two's birth, their parents die of reasons. unprepared to take care of them, squirreltail opens two portals to random inhabited parts of the multiverse and sends them through, hoping each will be picked up by someone responsible and more able than him.wildheart ends up being adopted by a family of goatlike skeleton monsters, where she stays for the first 13 years of her life (draco-mophiads age like humans up until about their 20th birthday). during this time she becomes incredibly close with her adopted brother, [edit with name later, i forgot it]. shortly after her 13th birthday, wildheart discovered her ability to make portals. with their parents permission, she and her brother went out to explore the multiverse a little.on their little jaunt, the two encountered a creature totally alien to them, and wildheart dared her brother to go poke it with a stick. unfortunately, the creature turned out to be a bear-esque superpreadator and ripped wildheart's brother to shreds while she watched.wildheart opened a portal to nowhere in particular, landing her at a market in the interdimensional void (my imagining of the multiverse is, like space, mostly empty. universes take the shape of enormous white orbs with the texture of frosted lightbulbs. their glow is soft, yet can be seen from light centuries away). scared to go back home, she wandered.and wildheart never stopped wandering. she quickly exanded her scope to universe hopping, trying her best to repress the memories and emotions from her brother's death.during the next eleven years, wildheart developed a routine. explore and universe hop, break gear, plunder something ancient for rare stuff, sell it at the interdimensional market, get new gear, repeat. in ancient tombs and temples, wildheart saw one thing over and over again. carvings of things that looked like her, had the same powers as her. naturally, she assumed she was the last.on the eve of her 24th birthday, wildheart was traveling through the market, looking for something special to get herself. wherever she went, the vendors all talked about one thing. the nearby combat arena had a new champion, a catlike (cats are p much a multiversal constant) calling herself reaper. knowing wildheart, many suggested she challenge her.wildheart was confident in her abilities, both physical and magical, so she decided that a championship would be the perfect gift to herself.

she actually proved a pretty even match for reaper, but in the end the champion won. though wildheart's energy seemed boundless, reapers patience and tactical skill were ultimately able to exhaust her.

after the fight, the two met by chance somewhere in/around the market. they got to talking, reaper asking what wildheart does for a living. finding the prospect of universe-hopping more interesting than beating the shit out of people, reaper asked to join wildheart.

reaper was a tall (for a draco) draco-morphiad with black fur, white patterns outlining the shape of her skeleton (or what it would be if draco-morphiads had those). she wore a grey hoodie. her wings, skeletal things composed entirely of ice, marked her as a water element, though her eyes seemed to contradict that (although wildheart didnt really know that). instead of the slightly desaturated off-teal you would expect from a water element, reapers eyes were pich black with pupils colored a deep, beautiful blue.

anyway, after a few weeks of traveling the multiverse together, the two encountered something strange. a universe with no glow, just a dull grey orb.

portaling inside (and quickly leaving), the two found that the universe was empty. it had experienced a heat death, something totally unnatural in this setting.

wildheart and reaper agreed that they had to find and kill whoever did this.

idk how, exactly, they found him, but that person turned out to be a being calling himself entropy, the incarnation of the void, the nothingness that came before the multiverse. while he was monolouging about a pair of beings called 'chaos' and 'order', wildheart and reaper tried to jump entropy. entropy did not like this. he used some sort of attack that sent the pair into a strange voidspace.

sat in this voidspace was a pair of beings. a scribbled dragon, with eyes of wildheart's blood red, and a hyperrealistic marble statue of a woman with a buzzcut in a dress, with gemstone eyes of reapers deep, beautiful blue. the two were enormous, the tip of the dragons talon bigger than wildheart's entire body. they were playing chess on a table of equal proportions.

"you're back early." remarked the dragon "did something happen?"

after a bit of confusion, it became understood that wildheart and reaper had no idea who these people were or where they were.

the two giants explained that they were chaos (the scribbled dragon) and order, demiurges of the multiverse.

many googols (a number with a hundred zeroes) of googols of eons ago, there was nothing. out of that nothing arose chaos, pure unbridled creation. but without filter, chaos could not create or take any definite form. and so, it (chaos is they/it) sat as a sort of existance soup for not even they know how long. until, at some point, order arose from the void. order was filter, what chaos needed to truly create. she (order is she/it) could not create by itself either, each dependant on the other to do something they instinctually longed for. order's form was also much different from her current day form, either a ball of quantum strings or a colorless cube of indeterminate material (i havent decided). so, the two came together and created. one of the first things the two created was a pair of souls, one blood red and the other a deep, beautiful blue. each one carved their true name into the corresponding soul in the first language, marking them as the incarnations of chaos and order.t hey were to be sent out into the multiverse together every once in a while, when the multiverse needed saving or just spicing up. of course the current incarnations were wildheart, incarnation of chaos and reaper, incarnation of order. they had been sent out this time for the purpose of killing entropy, whose trail of destruction included countless universes. but for reasons i dont know yet but were probably a mistake on chaos and orders part, they couldnt do it by themselves. they needed two more of their kind (chaos was vague about what 'their kind' was because i want it to be revealed in the narrative later). idk if its the two specific dracos they meet later or just any.

theyre currently in the place behind existance, chaos and order's personal voidspace.

chaos also reveals when talking to order that wildheart and reaper are siblings, before promptly sending them back out into the multiverse. entropy has long moved on, assuming he killed the two siblings.

the story isnt too well planned from here but

after some freaking out/contemplating/whatever over the fact that theyre siblings, wildheart and reaper continue on.

eventually, they encounter Six Of Spades, child of the last draco-morphiad monarch. saen (six of spades uses saen/trah pronouns, the traditional draco neutral/no-element pronouns) is a no-element, a semi-rare mutant with, you guessed it, no element. six of spades percives this as a fault of some sort, and overcompensates for it by playing up the ‘last heir to the draco-morphiad throne’ thing. Technically, saens cousin would have inherited the throne, but saen has no cousins saens aware of. six of spades would actually make a good monarch, if not for saens general neurosis and feeling of being (mostly) superior to those around trah.

six of spades watched saens parent die in front of saen to poachers, who wanted monarch eris (six of spades's parent)'s teeth. the teeth are the only part of a draco-morphiads pure magic core that doesnt simply dissipate after death. theyre an extremely potent source of magic, thus why draco-morphiads were killed for them shortly after the fall of the empire.

apperance wise, six of spades is an average sized (about 4 feet tall) grey draco-morphiad. saen has medium-grey fur down to saens waist, where its abruptly replaced by light grey scales. saen has ear fins like a dragon, and spikes going down saens back that may or may not start with the scales. six of spades has a lizard like tail and long, angular talons. save for color scheme (monarch eris was green), the spitting image of saens parent. six of spades also wears a worn gold crown and carries a worn gold staff with a magic gemstone orb, both posessions of monarch eris

wldheart and reaper convince six of spades to come with them.

eventually, they encounter a young (about 13 year old)

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scientificallygay838 · 4 years ago

Text

TW: Eating disorder, eating disorder relapse, body checks (no nudity, just fat)

Hey guys. I don't typically post text posts, I'm not looking for any help or advice, I honestly just need to vent. So here goes nothing.

My mom has always made comments about my weight, but I didn’t really realize it until I was around 15. I had been told I was a healthy weight, but she always had some snide remark about my weight. Slowly, I began to see myself as fat, all I saw was fat; fat thighs, fat arms, fat stomach, fat, fat, fat. The comment that really pushed me to anorexia was “What the HELL have you been eating to gain so much fucking weight, fatass?!” After that, I forced myself to eat less and less each day and exercise more and more. I went down to two meals, then one, and at my worst I'd go for days without eating much more than a protein bar if that. The most I’d ever eat in one day is 3 tiny meals, usually half of a bagel with cream cheese at 6 for breakfast, a halo orange at 10:30 for my morning snack, a small container of spinach and cherry tomatoes at noon for lunch, a small gala apple at 14:30 for my afternoon snack, and a veggie burger without a bun at 18:00 for dinner. Usually though, I'd just eat a protein bar after my morning run, and just drink water and gatorade, and *maybe* a diet soda. I spent all my time in my room. Instead of sitting around I'd exercise. I’d exercise for an hour, then take a rest break for a half hour, then repeat. I had an extensive workout of 100 jumping jacks, 100 squats, 100 sit ups, 100 crunches, 100 burpees, 100 push ups, 10 30 second planks, and a 2 hour jog. I did this every morning and evening without fail. As time went on, my health had begun to slowly get worse. I was constantly dizzy, tired all the time, my period was gone, had been for months, I was always cold, my head was always pounding, I sometimes woke up with bruises, and I started to pass out during my free time after my workouts. I knew I was not doing well, but I just wanted to be skinny, I wanted to make my mother proud. All I had ever wanted in life at that time was her love and approval, and I was starting to earn it. I ended up getting so bad, I landed myself in an RTF (residential treatment facility) to get help. I went in at 79.3 lbs. I could barely walk, I couldnt even stand up without nearly passing out. I realize now that I was dying. In the beginning, it was hard. A staff had to push me in a wheelchair; I was fed through a tube; I got in quite a few restraints because I tried to rip out my feeding tube. Every time they brought out the tube, I was thrown into a panic attack, sometimes so bad I entirely blacked out and was told I got so violent they had to lock me in the "quiet room" as they called it, until I had calmed down and regained my senses. I wasnt doing well mentally or physically. Even though my body was recovering, my mind was not. Every time I saw the numbers on the scale rise in the first 5 months there, I broke down sobbing uncontrollably. Close to my 6th month there, I had hit 127 lbs. When I saw that number, I didn't cry. I didnt feel anything, actually. I actually felt hopeful, I felt that I'd be able to be happy with my body again. When I met with my therapist, I told her about this, and she was overjoyed. I was finally able to eat at least 2 meals a day without feeling any anxiety or self hatred.

I was in recovery for about a year, but now that's all down the drain. I'm heavily restricting, fasting, counting calories, meal planning, and weighing myself more frequently, exactly how I was when I first developed the disorder. I dont want to get as bad as I once was, but I was happiest with myself at 105, and hopefully, I can get there again, because I honestly miss it. I miss having prominent collarbones, hipbones, ribs, cheekbones, and spine. I miss being able to touch my pinky and thumb around my wrist and still have extra room. I miss having a flat stomach, one that caves in when I lay down, one that I could get a belly button piercing and it actually look good. I miss feeling hot, honestly, I really do. I think the worst part about my ed is that all these people in my life just wanna help and after almost 4 years I can’t even help myself. It’s so much harder to get rid of an eating disorder than most people realize. When I hear stories of people like me being told to just "eat a burger" I get really pissed off. Its not as simple as eating more, you also have to think about the potential anxiety/panic attacks, impulsive exercising, and quite a few other things depending on the person. Honestly, after a while, it becomes so normal that you don’t even realize your disordered eating. The sad thing is, my disorder started developing because of my mother (who I was recently told has both anorexia and bulimia) shoving her own insecurities and self hatred on me, a young, impressionable teen at the time of the initial onset. Anyway, if you've read this far, I appreciate you taking the time to read this long ass post. I love you all, stay safe❤

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goatpaste · 5 years ago

Note

So I'm pretty new to your fan clans and Im confused by the way they work. Is there any chance that you could help me understand how the clans themselves formed? I know at least one clan lives in a twolegplace (partially at least) but otherwise Im very confused

ah im p new to my own fan clans lol, like just made them up three days ago lolbut iv been working as i go to make them!

heres a good starting point

a sketched map of their OG territories. three slabs of land split in three by a river.the dock in the middle was their gathering place( iv drawn it a bit small im bad with ‘maps’ but its a tall dock that the cats will gather under, the leaders sitting on a few large boulders near the shoreline.

and then their current territory where Honorclan forest has been mostly cut down and replaced by twoleg territory

another thing to note before i get too into it, these clans believe in starclan but a little differently.they do believe it to be the place clan cats go in death, but instead of listening and being guided by all of starclan, they in a sense worship select cats. typically past leaders who in their eyes after being leader and dying for their clan become that of gods in starclan, and using their ancient wisdom of the clan they once ruled and their new cosmic identity to guide them forward even after death.

but this gonna be a whole thing more some more under the cut it goes!

Loyalclan (heart emblem) lives in a vast field of tall grass that has a few trees before hitting a wall of trees a the edge of the field.they are known for being on the smaller side, hidden by the tall grass. their good diggers even using old tunnels dug up by larger animals as passage ways to their camp. their camp is located at the edge of their territory where a cluster of trees lines the end of the field. the camp is in a dip in the ground, what would appear to be the dig out of what could have been past human digging. The pit is nearly 8 feet deep. they make dens out of holes in the walls. their center of the camp tends to be full of leaves that have fallen from the trees above and its a chore for apprentices to clear out old leaves before they get nasty. the leaders den and the medicine cat den is sat on their side of their exit, a tunnel that leads nearly 15 ft out.opposite side sits the nursery, apprentice den, warrior den, elders den and a tunnel out to a dirtplace.

again to state their cats are typically on the small side, their short enough to be unseen in the grass, very light on their feet.

their primary prey tends to be mice and voles that live in the fields and sometimes birds and pheasants are a nice treat.the biggest part of their bodies tend to be their large wide front paws built for digging up the homes of prey. trivia wise their first leader was a stray named Foxie who in her youth was abandoned with no recollection of her past. her only companion was that of a dog who was her only family. when leaf bare came, Her dog companion passed away. Foxie stayed by her dead companions side for days until she was found by local cats who helped her. they fixed up his funeral and welcomed foxie into their home. when the clans were established and she was made leader she was renamed Loyalstar, in sake of her devotion to her late friend and to her future clan. the clans are currently on their third leader Mutestar who successed FlaxstarHonorclan (shield emblem) once living in a heavily dense forest known for their tracking abilities and strength. they hunted on feast of many small animals and were known for being able to hunt and kill foxes in packs.their forest was large and prey plenty.their only concern ever was a small logging facility that worked in their forest twice a year. they would come in and take down some trees before the winter started. to them never a huge concern and plenty of forest to go around. but it only got worseunknown to the cats, the logging facility was sold off to a big company that quickly and efficiently over the course of a few years developed the land and made it a small city town. theres only a strip of territory left that is still woodlands covering the edge of the bank of the river. unlike the other clans that shoved over when the humans arrive, Honorclan didnt move a muscle. the only thing that moved was their camp. they chose to make the best of their situation.their camp was relocated to a small cove like area a little bit further down the stream.

its a rocky little space with the river at their front door. its mostly hidden by rocks with cozy spaces in the area for cats to hole up in.

the part of the territory to focus on now a days is the part the humans made and the cats rule. the twolegs homes closest to the river and small cafes and stores where its usually much quieter and the loudest thing around are twoleg children who come down to play at the water. further in is shopping centers and tall buildings lined with bright colorful light and windows. Honorclan takes vantage of the space, hunting for rats and taking garbage or even excepting food from twolegs from time to time.

a beloved spot when cats arnt hunting is alleys behind dry cleaners where hot air comes out holes in the sides of the buildings.

the cats a more typical cat build, agile bodies built for climbing to the top of buildings and furry bodys for keeping warm at night.

these cats are a mostly nocturnal clan working from late evenings to somewhere past midnight out of the eyes of most humans.they also seem to possess a decently language skill being able to understand some human words, talking to dogs or pigeons.and much like skyclan, they have rather unconventional names. having names based on human things, or having kittypets and ally cats joining their clan and keeping their names or making them warrior names.

They were founded by Aseer a leader of a traveling group of cats who met the cats that would become Loyalclan a group of welcoming and kind felines.the two groups chose to share the land splitting it between the two of them.

Aseer was a kind tom who honored their promises and kept to their land, and in time the clans began to form and rules came into place.after the first months settled in the river flooded and ruined the land that the soon to be cats of loyalclan called home. much prey had drowned and died in their homes, the grassland like a marsh. Foxie and her group were in great need of help.

Their code spoke of keeping to their own lands and no taking of prey from each others territories no matter what (a rule now changed after this experience). However in this time Aseer chose to set aside their laws, and his honor to help his neighbors by bringing them in and feeding them in his lands.starclan chose him as leader, naming his Honorstar. a cat who while showing great honor and pride for his clan knew when to set aside and help others in need.

The current leader is Greasestar, he is currently the 4th leader of Honorclan. he preceded Strikestar.As for our last clan i cant tell you a whole lot yet >:3c

but their name is

Gloryclan

they live in the last third of the territories that is like marsh land, land that never dried up moons after the flooding on the fields happened. its full of large rocks and plants that seem to only grow on their marshy banks.

they were founded by Hero later named Glorystar due to her epic tale of heroics.

#wc ocs #my ocs #longpost #confusedfangorl

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-04-02

Alright I’ll fix the broken images later right now lets goooooo read the updaaaate I’ve been only spoiled on the chapter title

I don’t even wanna guess. Jake? This makes me think of Jake for some reason, even though that doesn’t make much se-- oh right the Vriskas are locked in a school closet with a dead clown.

> CHAPTER 7. Distress Call From the Closet

Yep.

Also, this is how a car design looks when it was invented to have its first appearance be it flying with a human named Tavros looking out from an open side door.

(I’m not ENTIRELY against designing something for its immediate-art-use-purpose first and functional or historical-origination thought later, but usually when you make it that obvious that that’s what your doing it’s best to make that fact funny. Like the Conveniently Shaped Lamp.)

Also I appreciate this using of Candy as kind of more lighthearted breaks in the action?

> (==>)

I thoguht that protruding fang (?) was drool for a second and wondered what the fuck they were up to in this closet all of a sudden.

Vriska, thriving on it, has not felt so decadently alive in a very long time. Tavros has never in his tragic existence felt so close to death, which is surprising to him.

Vrissy is trying her best not to grapple with any cosmic truths at the moment, since she’s getting a phone call in the middle of hiding for her life.

Vrissy’s implied to be somewhere in-between all that by this joke. I bet she’ll be comparing herself to Vriska and Tavros alike throughout this mess, wondering where on the spectrum she lands and being ashamed of it AND both of them regardless. Vriska Original had a ghost version who went on a fair bit of a Page dress-up thing and personality shift, so maybe we could expect Vrissy to struggle with being caught in the middle of the scales... or does that qualify as overthinking it classpectways?

VRISSY: Yeah Harry I would say we are Extremely Aware of the Situ8ion. VRISSY: As it Unfolded the fuck all around us.

Good Christ, Vrissy’s selectively-capitalized Kanaya-isms continue to be cute.

Oh, he’s on speakerphone.

> (==>)

Yep, telling Rose and Kanaya would be the smart thing to do, but it isn’t the Them thing to do.

--ROXY’S PLACE?!?? Hoo boy. On the other hand, though, we get more Roxy, so it evens out.

Also, I like how Harry Anderson has to spell out Harry Anderson’s entire name for his Harry Anderson chat tag every single time. Harry Anderson.

> (==>)

Part of the reason, Tavros thinks, that he’s been so game to continue on with the worst plan anyone has ever concocted, is that the more bullshit they endure, the longer they can put off actually doing anything that matters.

If he’s getting sprayed with a sprinkler and getting clown feet in his face, it’s a farce. It can’t hurt him. But if they get to the part where he’s shoving the uncooperative weight of his uncle’s corpse in an incinerator, he will stop floating in protective semi-consciousness above his body and it will all be real.

Ouch.

Can’t one of you assholes just captchalogue him? Or did you leave all the appropriate-strength moduses at home? Even you Vriska??

Oh, right. Everyone knows and you can just leave him here. Good call. I mean you don’t really have to worry about forensic evidence with the pictures circulating.

> (==>)

VRISKA: 8ye 8itch.

Oooh! That feels satisfying! Yeah, tell off Gamzee’s corpse!

...Wait.

If they just leave Gamzee there, Jane can revive him, can’t she.

Fuck. Maybe it’s up to Jake to try and stop that.

> (==>)

Karkat and Meenah resistance-time, then, with them presumably hearing about this development on the internet. Wow, Meenah’s horns are getting long fast. Plus a hint more of her grown-up self’s height. I didn’t think she’d keep maturing so fast with her absurd lifespan ahead of her.

Oh shit, I didn’t see at first--

Right, Candy might still be lighthearted compared to the broader plot just due to lowered stakes, but it’s still the Carpet-Bombing-and-War-Filled Shituniverse.

Trolls are made for the battlefield.

From the moment a troll oozes out of the mother grub’s pulsating sphincter, through the trials of the brooding caverns, across the brutal day to day slog of Alternian society, all the way to their Ordeals, to the sucking void of space. They are bred for nothing but endless war.

But Commander Vantas...Commander Vantas is different.

Is... is Meenah narrating right now? Because fuck.

Or so all the pamphlets say.

The actual Commander Vantas has blisters on his heel and has been taking pot-shots at scouting drones for the last six hours. He could use a bath, honestly.

Or is this one of the trolls on the side narrating who’s kind of internalized the stories of trolls’ prior warlike nature?

> (==>)

MEENAH: yo nubs is that u MEENAH: pretty rank KARKAT: OH MY GOD. KARKAT: I FLATLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN SMELL MY NATURAL MUSK OVER THE STENCH OF BLOOD AND BURNING FLESH.

I guess it probably was Meenah narrating, then. Unless it’s a really biased alt!Callie doing the talking.

MEENAH: didnt i warn u bout thinking tho? KARKAT: GOD DAMMIT MEENAH, DON’T MEME AT ME.

I don’t know what meme this is and I really don’t want to know.

They have had this argument more than once. In fact, both of them could play either side of it. Karkat has done his time in the field, of course, leading small guerilla operations to free prisoners and sabotage Crocker’s supply chains, but Meenah and the rest of the council is right. Which is why he’s here, instead of at the front lines with his rebels, where he belongs.

His true value is his face. His symbology. At the end of the day, he is a fucking ad campaign.

...is KARKAT narrating here???

SWIFER: boss check the news!

Oh shit, right, Swifer is in the resistance in Candy instead of just a breeding assistant in Meat as the bonuses remind us.

KARKAT: OH FUCK. MEENAH: what KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST. MEENAH: nubs i swear 2 god KARKAT: IT’S GAMZEE. KARKAT: HE’S DEAD. MEENAH: oh MEENAH: well shit KARKAT: I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS. MEENAH: u okay KARKAT: NO!

Huh. Them’s some complicated feelings that could fall in basically all directions at once.

Also, I can’t believe Karkat has hung around humans enough to fully internalize the full-throated exclamation “JESUS CHRIST”, which wouldn’t even really be a thing on Earth C with people who aren’t from Earths B or A.

MEENAH: u outlawed fishpuns i gotta make my own fun

How could you, Karkat.

KARKAT: AND I GUESS IF YOU CALL AN OBSCENELY PUBLIC PALE ACT, PERFORMED IN A FUGUE OF DESPERATE PANIC INTENDED TO PREVENT HIM FROM MURDERING ALL OF MY FRIENDS INSTEAD OF JUST HALF OF THEM “A THING”. KARKAT: THEN YES, I GUESS WE HAD A THING. KARKAT: BUT IF YOU’RE ASKING ME IF I’M SAD THAT HE’S DEAD? KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

Okay, I’d hoped not, good...

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT WHY I’M SAYING FUCK A BUNCH OF TIMES. MEENAH: u need a reason to say fuck a buncha times KARKAT: SHUT UP. KARKAT: LOOK AT THE PICTURE.

--Right! That’s a good reason to not be okay.

KARKAT: I DON’T THINK SO? I CAN’T SEE HER EYES IN THIS PICTURE, BUT SHE’S COVERED IN BLOOD, AND SHE’S CARRYING GAMZEE, SO SHE’S CORPOREAL AT LEAST.

I love this form of analysis somehow.

KARKAT: OKAY...HERE. OH. OF COURSE. CROCKER IS CLAIMING HER SON WAS KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO PARTICIPATE. KARKAT: AND THEY’VE NAMED ME AS THE MASTERMIND. MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one

Meenah isn’t the “concerned” type. Lemonade out of lemons.

> (==>)

That middle tweet is my favorite.

Oh dear, “#GamzeeAnon”...

KARKAT: SHIT. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAVE TO DO WITH FUCKING SERKET. KARKAT: LITERAL MONTHS OF PLANNING, HOURS AND HOURS OF LOGISTICS, AND ALL OF IT GOES UP IN SMOKE BECAUSE OF ONE SPIDERY ASSHOLE. KARKAT: SHE *WOULD* FIND SOME WAY TO WRECK MY SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

indisputable

KARKAT: NOW? KARKAT: NOW WE PIVOT FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS.

Um...

What does that mean?

I’m having a lot of trouble not only understanding the basic meaning of what he’s saying, here, but understanding why KARKAT of all people would employ it.

......it’s a meme, isn’t it. Gotta be.

> (==>)

(Ooh, an eyepatch designed to invoke a Strider-shade. Nice.)

KARKAT: I NEED TO TALK TO EGBERT.

But....... why??

> (==>)

Oh right, cause his son’s girlfriend is involved.

> (==>)

Oh my goooood what a pair of John and Roxy caaaars! :D

He is too busy with these mental gymnastics to notice his father’s car parked outside.

Ah right. John’s... not on the best terms with him, I recall that.

> (==>)

Ohhhh myyyy goooood what an image!!!

John, Roxy, and Harry Anderson proceed to have the tail end of a conversation they had before, in another medium.

What the fuck!? Harry had that conversation WHILE this dead body situation was going on?! Let me reread that linked bit...

(And she has such a somber smile on her face, but given the conversation content it’s not surprising.)

Harry Anderson looks at the two of them all teary and laughing and hikes his bag higher on his shoulder, shifting his weight. Roxy sees a muscle tighten in his jaw. Her beautiful, smart boy. She wants to run over and hug him, to protect him from the possibility of pain at talking to his father, but she doesn’t. She knows how much he’s wanted this, no matter how much he jokes about it.

She looks back at John, and sees her own awe mirrored in his face. She wills him not to cry, not to fall back on his self-imposed suffering and blame loop. Something about the last hour must have done the trick, though. John stands up, brushes his hands on his jeans, and walks, back straight, toward his son.

JOHN: hey harry anderson. JOHN: it’s really, really good to see you. JOHN: do you wanna go for a drive?

The muscle in Harry Anderson’s jaw clenches a few more times, but when he smiles, it is genuine.

HARRY ANDERSON: yeah, dad. HARRY ANDERSON: that could be cool.

Oh son of a bitch. Well isn’t that entertaining. Harry you’re just going to ditch your friends for I’m kidding, this is life fulfillment you’re aiming for, of COURSE you’re going to agree. (Too bad bringing the current situation in is gonna throw a wrench in things.)

> (==>)

Oh right, that means more of THIS Vriska and THIS John. They’ve had a good start talking already, I wonder what more they can learn from each other.

HARRY ANDERSON: but no worries, i asked my mom to pick me up some snacks so she’ll leave to go to the store in a sec. HARRY ANDERSON: just sneak in after she leaves and hide in my room, and i’ll be back in a bit.

Harry you enormous shortsighted asshole. And John’s about to learn all this from Karkat over the phone to blow his cover.

> (==>)

aaaaa roxy art i cannot :D

Wonder if her stealthiness attunement is gonna catch them in the act?

> (==>)

From this jealousy bit, I wonder to what degree Earth C humans are used to Troll quadrants and their various interplay mores.

> (Room: Examine yourself.)

Oh, a proper room introduction for Harry Anderson! Very fashion-focused, very liking the spotlight--

Oh wait, shit. This is traditionally where classpect associations are hinted more obviously than anywhere else. Time to stop holding back on the classpect stuff and take in every fucking word with capital-C Classpect fully in mind.

A bedroom stands empty. There is no boy standing in this bedroom, or indeed anyone else. However, if the boy whose bedroom it was were here, one might remark that his name was HARRY ANDERSON.

And FUCK, one might say, does he like MUSICAL THEATER.

Spotlight, definitely. But is it for the attention? The possibilities? The acting?

He has been in his fair share of school plays, but he has LOFTY ASPIRATIONS to STAR in bigger and better productions. He especially appreciates modern MUSICAL REMAKES of classic OLD EARTH MOVIES. It's a craze that not everyone is happy about, but in the absent boy they have found a DEVOTED FAN. There is also just enough overlap between his taste and his father’s to allow for SOMEWHAT STILTED CONVERSATIONAL BONDING from time to time.

Hmmmm. Is it about the majesty of important works of media (I see “Pokémon” and “Alien vs Predator” up there...), or is it about the fact that they’re remakes of past works? Those are a lot of awards and stage lights now that I zoom in to look... and hats... hats could be important......

The boy who is not yet here has also been known to dabble in ACCESSORIZATION. He could be described as a COBBLER ASPIRANT, a NEOPHYTE MILLINER, or even a BIT OF A WHIZZ WITH A NEEDLE AND THREAD.

Oh, interesting! Not just putting out different outfits, but making them? And Milliner is hat-specific creation...

His mother got him his first SEWING MACHINE when he was 10, to keep him from using hers all the time. His looks are HAND-CRAFTED, often IMITATED, but never DUPLICATED.

Space is obviously possible from sewing, but-- A focus on uniqueness!!! The broader theme is getting VERY specific. You might feel where I’m leaning already.

His COSTUMES appear in various AMATEUR PRODUCTIONS, the devising of which takes up most of his FREE TIME. His friends are usually LESS APPRECIATIVE of his attempts to dress them up than he would like, though.

Holy fucking shit. He dresses up and makes unique HATS for his friends and others. Specifically so they can use them as COSTUMES to act parts!!!!

And the other unique thing mentioned about him here took the time aside to note how he appreciated the intersection in personal interests between him and his father for it.

So you all know what I’m thinking, right? HATS??? It’s got to be Heart, isn’t it. Maybe even a Page of Heart, with his long-off aspirations and talent for arming others with it. Any other additive/giving class might do the trick, too, like Sylph or possibly Maid. Knight could technically still fit pretty well, but I feel Page is better given what little we know so far, what with so much outward focus bleeding out.

(You can comb through the saga on my infamous hats tag or the summary on the Aspect Duality post, but the gist is that hats (and others’ clothes, but especially the hats. even shoes -- SO many shoes in that picture!) represent the gist of an expressed identity, personal uniqueness whether innate or affected ala a costume. Nepeta, Dirk, Terezi, and even Stitch have given us examples, some of them deeper than we realized, MOST of them probably overthought bullshit like I thought when I first created the hats tag and started tracking the wonderful importance of hats. ¬_¬)

I’d like to see anyone else’s interpretation. (EDIT: One more potential Nep-allusion in this room.)

> (==>)

Oh nooooooo!!!! Tavros’s sprite is the saddest looking thing I’ve ever seen!! D: Like a mix of Jane and Jake that thoroughly regrets his entire existence! Which he practically does! D: Why the Caliborn-like clothes though?

(Some hint at “how different alt!Callie’s Caliborn must have been” like the commentary suggested exploring in fanfiction? Was the suggestion meant to divert attention from the idea that it’d be addressed in the plot? Andrew pulled that trick a time or two, why not these authors?)

Also:

Pffff. Vriska just accessorizing immediately-- Oh, wait. That might just be a bandana she had at some point coated in Gamzee’s blood.

Tavros is looking at the news on a borrowed phone -- nice call on disabling the tracking on yours, Tavros.

> (==>)

TAVROS: It’s getting a bit surreal to see my, uh,, frozen mask of horror on every news site,, TAVROS: It’s a good shot of you,,, though, Vrissy, VRISSY: It really is Shockingly well composed.

Heheheh. It’s fun that Tavros knows exactly what Vrissy/ka would care about.

And yes, Vriska is over there trying out ALL the bandanas.

> (==>)

VRISSY: Oh, is trying on all my 8oyfriend’s accessories not passing the time well enough for you? VRISKA: Desper8 times call for desper8 measures, Vrissy. VRISKA: And this is some dire shit.

They stare each other down. Did she mean the fugitive situation, or Harry Anderson’s fashion choices? Vrissy feels silly wondering this, but despite the situation they’re in, she can’t help but feel more acutely anxious about Vriska’s presence.

She likes her life, and she trusts her own choices. But now, looking at everything from Vriska’s vantage point, it all feels silly. Unimportant. Childish.

She can’t tell if she wants Vriska to rip in to Harry Anderson or if she wants her to stay silent. To put off the moment where she has to defend him or join in.

Real interesting. Like she’s caught between these worlds after all.

> (==>)

They say it was a long drive, but...?

...WOW. What a chill, disinterested-looking affect his sprite makes for. Huh.

He kisses Vrissy’s temple and she leans in to the warmth of him.

HARRY ANDERSON: aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. HARRY ANDERSON: so sorry it took so long. HARRY ANDERSON: can’t rush a heart to heart, you know how it is.

Stop making me deliberate whether you’re trying to drop teasing Heart-aspect hints. You already know I’m going to be obsessively scrutinizing every word of dialogue around Harry to see if it fits, story. No need to rub it in.

VRISSY: You actually had a Heart to Heart with your dad? How many times did he Cry?

I DIDN’T EVEN READ THE NEXT LINE QUIT SAYING HEART TO HEART YOU EVEN GAVE IT PROPER CAPS THAT TIME

HARRY ANDERSON: but god, it was a mess. i had to keep talking to keep him from looking at his phone or turning on the radio. HARRY ANDERSON: i may have told him more about my deep passions and emotions in the last hour than the whole rest of my life combined, just to keep him from hearing the fucking news.

Holy shit. You exploited conversation about your deep passions and interests for a separate goal???

Aaargh! Classpect everywhere! I’ve relapsed!!! D:

> (==>)

JOHN IS SO HAPPY

John Egbert has not had a day like this in a very long time. He can barely keep track of this series of epiphanies he’s having. He stretches out on his couch to relax and process the gifts of advice and connection his friends and family and ex-family have just given him.

OH RIGHT TIME TO RUIN IT WITH MAXIMUM SHENANIGANS

JOHN: hey karkat! great timing! JOHN: so much just happened and im kind of reeling about it. KARKAT: YEAH NO SHIT.

Ohhhh. Much of the time I hate dramatic irony, but those moments before someone is about to be let in on the discrepancy... oh man I love that.

JOHN: is something going on? i just spent the afternoon with my son, and i think he would have told me if something was up with his friends? KARKAT: OH MY LUSCIOUS SHITTING CHRIST JOHN LISTEN TO ME. JOHN: listening!

"Luscious”?? Did they try to type “Lusus” and get autocorrected?

Who’s writing Homestuck on their phone???

> (==>)

J...John?? Are you okay?? XD

This picture. These two paragraphs. I fucking love them.

(Wow, being closer to the “canon” story due to ridiculous shenanigans right after his back-to-back self-insights and outlook changes have really been healthy for him huh. He can probably sense HS^2 reaching him out here. And you can see the helpless comedian his probably-still-depressed ass became on Earth B in his reaction here. EDIT: Also, how appropriate that even by DYING, the Bard of Rage managed to fulfill his role and shatter the last vestiges of John's narrow-outlooked despair?)

John can’t answer. He can’t speak. His body has given itself over to the long-lost feeling of manic euphoria. It had felt like Harry Anderson was holding something back on the drive earlier, but he had already told John so much. He hadn’t wanted to press for more.

Yeah... after what John’s gone through across his life and session, finding out Harry managed to hide THIS for a whole car-ride is the best sort of punch-line for him.

John can’t breathe. Something is happening. Something is finally fucking happening, and he’s finally awake enough to appreciate it.

--yep. I was just guessing earlier, but this kind of confirms it’s in part a closer-to-relevance, closer-to-canon feeling bleeding in. Something is happening that’s important enough to SHOW onscreen and not skip over. I guess he really does like being anchored in Light after all.

> (==>)

John wheezes himself into relative calm. He has to get Karkat to understand. He clears his throat and breathes.

JOHN: karkat, this can be how we win. JOHN: i know what we need to do.

...holy SHIT.

Karkat, how did you know calling JOHN about this would work out this well??

John actually taking confident action to solve a problem, in a way that isn’t going to end up depressing like his attempt to provide Tavros escape in the Epilogues... this should be interesting.

See you next time. (I had to image-fix some stupid linked hat posts for this blogpost and I’m out of energy, so I’ll fix the other old post I promised that asker to fix in like, a day or two; I’ll post when I do.)

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #hats #Heart and Mind #Harry Anderson

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katzuyas · 6 years ago

Text

blood drips from the fingers of the hand that suddenly rips through the flesh of the man who was bout to cut yuuri’s head off with one clean swing of his sword, and yuuri can’t exactly say he minds this sudden development. there is a clean hole in the man’s chest when he’s discarded to the side like a piece of insignificant dust, but yuuri’s too busy gazing at the one who saved him to look closer at all the gore.

because before him stands the most handsome man he’s ever seen.

it’s part admiration, part disgust that stirs in yuuri’s belly as he watches the man lift his bloodied hand to his lips and suck his fingers clean. something very disturbing seems to be happening before his very eyes, and yet... and yet, yuuri feels himself bewitched to the point of staying there and watching.

“did I scare you?” the man asks, licking his hand clean much like a cat. a hell cat. one of those feral beasts that feast on rotten flesh and--

“um,” yuuri swallows. “no?”

he’s risking it, he thinks, but when he considers it closer, it’s not really a lie that he gives in reply. he’s only partially scared. everyone would be after someone tried to kill them, and yuuri’s fear stems from that alone, it looks like.

“oh?” the man cocks his head to the side. he looks at yuuri with bright blue eyes, which shine like gems and steal yuuri’s breath altogether. “so you aren’t scared of me?”

“should I be?” yuuri asks back, wondering where he gets the audacity to question a being who can rip through a human with enough ease as he just witnessed.

maybe it’s his close brush with death that’s given him the courage, or maybe it’s another feeling -- one of premonition of what’s to come -- that tells him his adventure into the land of the dead might not yet be far off, but yuuri finds strength in his limbs and lightness in his heart, so he stands.

and he looks the man in the eyes with no fear. “are you going to hurt me?”

the man seems to be as surprised at yuuri’s question as yuuri is at his own daring.

“hurt you? no!” he shakes his head and his silver hair flits about like spiderwebs on a light morning breeze. “why would you even think that? I’d never hurt you.”

“well,” yuuri clears his throat, looking to where the corpse of the man who tried to take his life has yet to chill. “that might have something to do with my question, but... if you aren’t here to hurt me... and you just saved me... then, how-- I mean, who are you? and why did you help me?”

the little breath that escapes from the man’s lips is much more hushed than a gasp. much more... disappointed, yuuri decides when he sees the crestfallen look on the man’s face.

“you don’t know,” comes the reply, and yuuri frowns.

of course he doesn’t? how could he--

“you called for me.”

“what?” yuuri blinks, surprised. “no, I didn’t. I would’ve known if--”

“but you did,” the man insists. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. you called me, or, well, your soul did? when humans come close to death their souls resonate, you see, and some of you have the strength to call one of us.”

humans, yuuri’s mind repeats as it reels. one of us.

“who... who are you?” he repeats through trembling lips.

the man’s smile is a slow thing, and it’s beautiful. it’s beautiful, but all of his handsome face is. it’s in his eyes that the beauty ends, or maybe, maybe that’s where it truly begins, because his blue gaze glows with power that is darker than any yuuri has seen.

he shivers when the man steps up to him, almost jumps in unease when he kneels. yuuri’s hand is taken and brought up to those smiling lips. there’s blood stains on his skin now, too, from the leftovers of his almost-killer, and yuuri’s stomach turns when he feels a kiss pressed to the inner part of his wrist -- right where his pulse flutters like a bird trapped in a cage against its will.

“I am nothing but your loyal dog, my liege,” the man whispers.

his warm breath settles in the palm of yuuri’s hand, distracting, but not distracting enough.

“my what?” yuuri asks. his voice comes out broken, so he clears his throat, and says again: “I don’t understand. how...?”

“you called upon me,” the man explains. “and I answered your call. I am now yours to command until the day you inevitably die.”

“but I didn’t,” yuuri insists, this time harder. he shakes his head. “I couldn’t have.”

“whyever not?”

the man peers up at him. he looks so perfectly poised while he continues to kneel at yuuri’s feet that yuuri trembles within himself from how beautiful it makes him. he knows he shouldn’t, but... he was already set to die tonight and he didn’t. so maybe luck was on his side, after all. maybe... maybe enough of it to let him get away with even more.

he slips his hand away from the light grasp and bows over until he can take the man’s face in his hands and set their foreheads together in faux gentleness. and he knows it instantly when the man realizes the change in the atmosphere around them, for those brilliant blue eyes widen in surprise that is heavily meshed with awe -- the awe that somehow makes yuuri feel powerful, more so than usual.

powerful, and stupid.

it’s that feeling that makes his brown eyes glow red, and it’s that feeling, too, which has him give the silky whisper of truth that only sparse few have ever heard:

“because I have no soul to call you.”

the man’s breath comes fast and hard, but he hears the truth in yuuri’s words, sees it in his inhuman eyes. gently, he turns his head towards the corpse of what must have been his intended master, the one that called him and the one he should’ve served, and yuuri lets him. he lets go.

“oh dear,” the man says, yet his voice does not indicate much upset about the way things have turned out. “I guess... I made a mistake? now that is no fun. I will need to head back to hell then...”

he stands up, but... he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. in fact, he looks as if he wishes for a reason to stay. something to keep him here...

“before you go,” yuuri says before he thinks twice about it. “thank you for saving me. I would have died if he succeeded, so whatever trouble you’re in because of that, I feel like I should help you. so if you, well, that is, there is little I can do, but if you need a place to stay or to lie low for a while--”

“really?” the man blinks, and then breaks out into a smile so dazzling that yuuri feels the urge to shield his eyes. “could I stay with you then? I’m in no hurry to return, honestly. it’s so... dreary down there, you know.”

“but won’t you be in trouble if you don’t, I don’t know, report this? at least?”

the man shrugs. “they probably already know. besides, I’m glad I did what I did. I’d rather serve you than that pile of--”

“you don’t even know me,” yuuri tells him, a little amused, but mostly just too surprised at the turn of events to be fearful.

“but I’d like to know you,” the man replies easily. as easily as he slides up to him. as easily as he takes yuuri’s hand again, and as easily as he wraps his arm around yuuri’s waist almost in a parody of a dancing stance. “I’d very much like to know you... all of you.”

blood rushes to yuuri’s cheeks like it never has before, but even though the night is dark, he’s sure that this man can see it. he’s standing so close that he must, and yuuri knows it when he takes in the smile on his lips: a quirked, playful little thing that brings even more heat to yuuri’s face.

“how can I make a decision like that if you refuse to answer any of my questions,” yuuri says, but his protest is a feeble one. he already knows that he will not be able to resist this man’s charms. not now, not ever, most likely.

“then ask again, and I shall give you whatever it is you wish for.”

the man brings yuuri’s hand to his lips again, but this time he chooses to rest a kiss on yuuri’s knuckles instead of his wrist. if possible, it seems even more intimate than before, and yuuri’s heart beats double inside his chest.

“your name first,” he asks, unable to lift his eyes from where the man holds his hand in a grasp that is far gentler than yuuri would imagine. “and, who are you?”

“victor,” the man breathes. “my name is victor. and I’m a hellhound who answers the call of a human soul ready for eternal damnation. but, for you, I will be whoever you wish me to be--”

yuuri shakes his head as he looks up, right into his eyes. “no. you are who you are, and you will be who you decide to be. I have no right to change that, or ask it of you.”

victor’s surprise is clear, surely he hasn’t expected this. something in yuuri softens at the sight and it’s that same something that chooses to rest his trust in this man -- in victor -- whom he only just met, but whom he feels like he was supposed to meet all along.

“I’m yuuri,” yuuri says, and smiles when victor’s eyes meet his again. “yuuri of the katsuki clan. and I’m a vessel of the the squid god of hasetsu bay. my soul has already been claimed, but, with what little of myself there is left, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, victor.”

“oh, I assure you, yuuri,” victor chirps, sweet and playful, “the pleasure is all mine.”

he kisses yuuri’s hand again, yet this time his lips linger on yuuri’s skin just a bit longer while silver eyelashes flutter as victor closes his eyes. he breathes in deep, which makes yuuri flush all over again.

he quickly realizes why victor has done it, though. he’s a hellhound. he must have been familiarizing himself with yuuri’s scent, so that he could recognize it among the many others. and yet, once he figures it out, yuuri’s blush doesn’t go away. it only deepens, and deepens still when victor peers up at him with a gaze that is far more smitten than yuuri could ever hope it to be.

“you... um,” he bites his tongue from how fast he wants to speak, and needs to look away as embarrassment churns in his throat. yet, looking away from victor is harder than anything he’d ever done, and yuuri soon finds himself glancing his way again. “you said,” he tries again, “you said that you’d like to stay here, yes? if you still do, then my parents have an inn not far from here. we all live there, so if you--”

“I’d be honoured,” victor confesses, voice and eyes soft.

and yuuri, as he leads him by the hand which victor refuses to let go of, cannot deny that his heart feels oddly soft as well.

he was meant to die this night, but instead he has found himself with this strange man, who makes him feel strange things, and strangest of all? he has found himself trusting him, caring for him, and... before the cherry blossoms sprout their petals as spring takes her first steps, he finds himself loving him -- a hellhound from hell, who appeared in his life bloody, and who made all the blood in yuuri’s body run that much faster.

a hellhoud, a man, who showed him that even without a soul life has enough to offer to live, to love, and to be loved.

the hellhound, the man, whom yuuri has given what little of his was left to give: his heart.

#yuri on ice #victuuri #viktuuri #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuri #vikturi #my fic #I'm struggling so bad with writing these days #it took me 3 days to write this #ugh #but I think I will be slowly trying to start writing again #even tho it's painful rn #yrdcyvfhbn #enjoy I guess?

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migleefulmoments · 5 years ago

Note

One of my fave Disney Princess stories is how she often implied that one of her 3 male LGBTQ+ actor ROOMMATES in LA is Oliver Stark. She said her roomie was a regular on 9-1-1 (dating back to s1) who was in every episode, was young (25-35), hot and unmarried. Oliver is the only guy that meets her stated criteria. Since she also said 2/3 of her LGBTQ+ roomies are closeted (and the 3rd is out), what's she implying about Oliver? Who outs close friends? It'd be horrifying, if it wasn't ALL LIES.

I’m just looking through some posts and found a bunch referring to her roommates as “L” and “A” -no mention of the 3rd one but I know she has claimed 3 in the past. I found this post about “L” calling her baby and clearly flirting so IDK what she is claiming with this.

She says she is staying in the mansion of the wealthy roommate so here we have mention of the hot gardener (as an aside, how many WalMart and Sam’s club stores are there in 90210-ok I looked the nearest Sam’s club is almost 40 actual miles which in LA is 3000 miles; WalMart is only 10 miles. I used “90210″ so super generic and I’m not sure that is where she claimed she lived- but the rich dude who owns the huge home and drives a BMW SUV he freely let’s random model/actor/influencers use isn’t driving 40 miles to Sam’s Club to save on chicken salad.)

La chronicles: I was tricked.

L: baby, I’m running to the store, wanna go?

Me: nope I’m staying here and salivate over this fan fiction and the gardener…. Whichever goes shirtless first.

A: *barks out a laugh* don’t molest the gardener.

Me: who me?

L: come on baby..

Me: noooooo. Sex and intrigue.

A: *Snorts*

L: I’m going to that little organic place you love…..

Me: chicken salad????? With the sprouts.?????

L: yep yep.

Me: okay!!.

A: have fun

Me: *running out the door shouts back* tell me if he gets nnnneeeeeekkkkkkkkkkkkiiiiidddddddddd

L: BABY!!!

Me: what? He knows he is hot….

………….……….……..

(Thirty minutes later.)

Me: the fuck is this?

L: I said I needed to go to the store….

Me: no oo you said organic grocery…

L: yeah and I’ll get your chicken salad after we stock up.

Me…………..

Me……….

Me: but that’s sams

L: pretty and brains

Me: but but ….. only place worse to be on Saturday is hell mart!!!! I don’t wanna go in there..its gonna take forever

L: suck it up buttercup

Me: I was fucking tricked.

L: lead by the tummy…….

More about “L” who is apparently famous enough to have fanfiction about himself which he can readily find. .

Watching Nomie

Youd be surprised who visits tumble land.

L loves reading fan fiction about himself (he says he gets more game online than he ever does in real life) and tumbler. 😂🤣🤣😂😂😂. He has a ridiculous fascination sharing gifs of himself. he’s a goober. They crack him up.

Below is her post about how she was bearding and had to hide “A” -is he her boyfriend of husband now she is hiding him along with her kids. Her kids were never living in CA that I ever read. They were in South Carolina she occasionally talked about being separated from her teenage kids but that it was her time now and her career was important. She would write about being in LA most of the time-cryptic parties and work posts- and going back and forth to SC though she rarely posted from SC- except during one of the hurricanes.

Anonymous asked:

Hmmm ok I'm slightly intrigued maybe u do get it But most probably you don't Have you ever given up and gave away something you shouldn't have because you thought it was for the best and that guilt just fucking eats away at you every day I have lied to everyone even my family to hide something I didn't even know about The work was more important and I would have sold my soul to get what I wanted I just don't know now if any of it was worth it and tbh I don't think the big guys even think it

answered: Yeah.

I had to hide my kids for two years when I first got back heavily into modeling and switching back to acting. Was also bearding. Because I look so much younger than I am, they were afraid it would show negatively work wise. Also they didnt want questions about A and the minis. (I’m still cast as characters ten years younger than the actress that usually plays my mother. Its the cheeks and the voice).

One day I fucked up and mentioned my kids and it got in print when they were talking about fashion week. A was cool about it. But it resulted in a huge move for the minis and the whole family had to adjust. Mine and his.

There are other times I purposely fuck up. Because you just get sick of juggling. Other times its an honest mistake and then you deal with the shit and move on.

So now she and “A” have minis (kids) and they had to move. I’m not sure what the hell she is trying to spin here but clearly he isn’t the platonic roommate hanging out in LA.

I found posts tonight where she claimed she has two friends in Hollywood who are gay and came out and one friend who slammed the closet door so hard it shook after he got an important role.

I had no idea about Oliver- good sleuthing.

She claims she’s pan and that gives her permission to say rude and misogynistic things

Anonymous asked:

Who is gonna tell Darr/en he looks like M/ia's "best gay" in most of the pictures of them together where they are supposed to look in love? Especially the ones from last night lol

Just ya typical queer (I’m pan so imma say that). With his beardy.

Or hag. Whatever term ya wanna use.(X)

She HATED MIa...called her Amelia and wrote incredibly offensive-downright hateful-posts about Mia under the pseudonym The Ghost- who just happened to call her Amelia. Anons would ask Disneyprincess question for The Ghost and Disney would either answer them on The Ghosts behalf or claim she would relay the message/ask The Ghost. Yeah right. She even wrote fanfiction under that pseudonym. It was super bad -sentence structure, plot development, and character development were all grossly missing. It was basically BWP (bullying without plot). The stories are gone now- I have scoured the web looking for them. I could kick myself for not saving some of them...if anyone has one, I'd love to see it. The plot line of one was Mia ordering Darren around her office telling him she had complete control over him while he coward in front of her. Darren meekly declared he would win in the end, but Mia just kept ordering him around.

These are kinds of posts who would make about Hollywood -keep in mind there was nothing before this post that make it understandable- I'm not exaggerating when I say this was typical:

Nomie party

You did????? When? Was I annoyingly perky or in professional mode??

That’s freaking awesome. We must have lunch.

Didn’t post the ask cause that was too many details on that party. 😂😂 already been in trouble thanks.

Glad I’m not the only one that thought he is an ass.

Anonymous asked: (X)

When did you see them out? Details

Can’t really say where I was as it included what I was doing and with whom. But it was here after the first of the year

I already posted this but it bears repeating- she, like Abby, won’t give away all their secrets aka they won’t give specifics (X)

Anonymous asked:

there is evidence of Wll and aash kissing in the clubbbb?!!!!!!!

That I can’t tell you. I know I’ve never taken a picture cause why would I? but I mean folks do snap pictures when folks are out and folks get things in background photos that people prefer not be seen publicly.

However I will say if you do some digging, there are a lot more cuddled up w/a pictures out there. One just needs to have the time and be invested enough to look.

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foxglovesound · 6 years ago

Note

(feel free to mix the questions and the cats btw!) cuckoochirp, nightthroat, rosepaw, otterpaw, chubstream and 14, 18, 28, 50, 66, and legally i have to say 69 cos im gay

“69 cos im gay”

YOU

im doing all bc i AM bastard and love to chatter abt my bastard ocs

14. Do they have someone that they consider to be a family member, even if they’re not related to your character by blood? What was one of your character’s favourite moments with them, and what makes them so special to them?

CUCKOOCHIRP || hmmm let’s see….excluding his family (breamcloud, eveningscale, mintcloud, vervainstripe), then that would have to be Appleleaf, the ShadowClan seer! I’ve mentioned before that hazelnose was suffering from memory loss/degradation towards the mid/end of cuckoothroat’s apprenticeship and appleleaf was the one who stepped up and helped him with his training. Cuckoochirp came to both care about and admire appleleaf and they are always the first cat that cuckoochirp turns to when he needs advice or tips. They’re a very talented medicine cat and clever/crafty, which cuckoochirp also looks up to a lot; the duo developed a mentor-apprentice like relationship from early on and they’re both always excited to see each other. Cuckoochirps favorite moments with appleleaf were probably general training times! Appleleaf naturally couldnt just up and leave shadowclan for days, so theyd come by and visit or cuckoo would scamper on off to shadowclan for seer advice and lessons! Cuckoochirp thinks of the times when they’d both walk around the territories and examine herbs and their uses very fondly!

NIGHTTHROAT || OUGH OBVIOUS ANSWER BUT vervainstripe! Vervainstripe was the first friend nightthroat ever made in riverclan and i just dropped a little fic that touched up on their kind of dynamic just now but!!! Theyre very close and best friends, and nightthroats pretty much been absorbed into vervainstripes family because of how vervain as an apprentice would basically drag/invite night onto every endeavor or task at any opportunity he could!!!! Nightthroats favorite moments with vervainstripe would be their time alone when he and vervain would/do go out on walks. Vervain tends to ramble about a lot of things all at once and night might not believe in everything vervain chatters about he still listens fondly and endearingly bc he just loves it when his little buddy talks!Hes also pretty close with his apprentice shrewpaw! Theyre both rather mellow/logical cats and shrew actually went to night first about his gender issues and once he worked through it with nightthroat he went on to tell his family and the rest of his clan!

ROSEPAW || rosepaws got quite the growing amount of friends HA…besides his blood family in riverclan (hornetflower, beestorm and lightningface, honeystream), rosepaws closest to sootpaw, rookpaw and minkclaw! He used to be really close to swallowfang (his old windclan mentor) but after swallowfang helped orchestrate rosepaws escape from winclan (in secret) she had to drop contact with him in case yellow or gray go too suspicious. Besides that, rookpaw was one of rosepaws only friend in windclan (sycamorepaw/smokepaw/willowpaw were/are his friends but they were usually bustled away from contact with rosepaw bc the adults just. Wanted the kids to stay out of the drama). Rookpaw had been rosepaw’s best friend since their nursery days and when rosepaw was confined to the seer’s den, rookpaw would often worm his way into the den despite the disapproval of others and care for/curl around rosepaw (he’d bring him food and groom him as well). Rookpaw took a lot of care of rosepaw when he was still in windclan and he still keeps a good ear out for him now that rose is in riverclan!Now onto SOOTSY ROLL and MINKSTER….sootpaw was rosepaws first friend when he joined riverclan and as ive mentioned before they hit it off real quick due to their feelings of not having enough ties within riverclan! They quickly became best friends and, thanks to the fact that their mentors are also best friends, the duo practically do everything together in riverclan! Rose often drags soot along for things and soot makes sure that his dumb ass doesnt like, slam face first into a hive of bees (they have a very hornet-mink kind of friendship except soot can also be pretty reckless, but she’s grown a bit more hesitant/careful since the event with ashpaw happened). And mink/rose are obviously close because mink helped with rose’s rescue mission and now, as his mentor, the two spend a lot of time together. Rose has come to view mink in a very comforting position - almost like a better older sister or maybe even a mother figure (though he typically jokingly refers to hornetflower as mom). Theyre very attached to each other and care abt each other a lot!!!

OTTERPAW || once again excluding his blood relatives (lampreyface, shrewpaw, harrierpaw and cricketkit!), otterpaw is closest to hollypaw and chubstream! Ur gonna see a lot of really close-knit mentor/apprentice relationships in this story FHBDSHFD its rare to find a set who didnt like each other (i mean it happens but its just unusual)Hollypaw is otterpaws best friend since the nursery days as well, and although otterpaw is skilled at caring for kits and nursery issues, hollypaw is the one who steps up and takes care of otterpaw. Otter tends to be reckless when paired up with cats his age, and with his history with his father elmfoot, holly is quick to jump to otters defense in any time of need. In fact, it was hollypaw and sootpaw who were the ones who rescued otterpaw from his dad one day and holly literally fought elmfoot for otterpaw while soot ran off to get help. Theyre still super close and because of how close they are gorsefang is also on relatively good terms with otterpaw - they can be rather brunt and emotionally distant but theyve accepted otterpaw into their family as hollypaw’s best friend and gorse will get involved in trouble if it means protecting their son and his best friend from danger!Chubstream is also naturally close to otterpaw because chub is his mentor! Chub was ecstatic when otterpaw came to caretaking and was assigned as his apprentice and chub is a very encouraging and sweet figure in otterpaws life!Also of course rosepaw and otterpaw are growing closer but theyre not like family close lol theyre just good fwiends

CHUBSTREAM || CHUBBY BUBBY… i mentioned earlier that otterpaw/chubstream are close of course so besides that and his blood relatives (briarflower, minkclaw), chubstream is particularly tight with craneheart and even gorsefang, surprisingly! I mentioned earlier (again audhfusidf) that gorsefang had good terms with otterpaw, and as both chub + gorse are caretakers they found themselves hanging out more and more as otterpaws training went on. Chub however has always been pretty close with craneheart, and he was particularly involved in sootkit’s (and ashkit’s) nursery days when they were brought to riverclan. The three are good friends and although gorsefang comes off a little distant, they all care abt each other nonetheless

18. Does your character believe the ends justify the means? No matter who they have to step on to reach their goals?

CUCKOOCHIRP || nnnnnnnnno honestly. Cuckoo is very empathetic and the idea of hurting others or stepping on others reaaaally doesnt sit right with him. He doesnt agree that the ends justify the means especially if youre hurting, damaging or even killing someone in the process and this is one of the few things that can land you in permanent hot water with mr cuckoochirp

NIGHTTHROAT || hmm this one i gotta think about. I think nightthroat would agree with this but there’d have to be a limit? Of course he doesnt agree with getting others hurt bc huoy but he also doesn’t like the idea of being stagnant just because ur afraid of confrontation. Hes good at speech and talking and if theres something that needs to get done he’d rather talk it out or talk out a way that doesn’t end up hurting anyone emotionally/mentally or physically - but he does understand the idea in the most extreme circumstances.

ROSEPAW || another toughy! Rose doesnt agree with hurting others but hes okay with playing with peoples feelings and hes known to flirt and be cutesy/pretty when he wants something (hornetflower has given a lecture or too bc sometimes rose will try to flirt with an apprentice in another clan to will them to give him their most recent fresh catch lmao) but he doesnt agree with it if its like. Physically or extremely damaging, you know? In minor cases hes okay with it and even does it but in the grand scheme hes not fond of it lol

OTTERPAW || also a BIG no like cuckoochirp! Otter dealt with a lot of horrible shit from his father that could be boiled down to “the end (making otterpaw stronger for survival) justified the means (abusing him)” so he doesnt agree with it at all. However hes not exactly the most caring of others? He cares a lot about kits in the nursery and works well with them, but cats his age and older he can come off as kinda stand-offish and when it comes to drama like someone getting hurt by another persons path, he tends to stay out of it

CHUBSTREAM || another no! Chubs empathetic like cuckoo and he actively will get pissed at you if you hurt someone just because they were in the way of what you wanted. Hes not easy to anger but this will be something that really pisses him off

28. When your character was younger, how did they picture themselves growing up? Does it differ from how they really turned out?Leaving otter and rose outta this one bc they are still….relatively young lol theyre only about 10 - 11 moons currently

CUCKOOCHIRP || cuckoo had a lot of self esteem issues growing up. He wasnt bad at training as a warrior, but he wasnt happy and it wasnt sitting with him so around them he probably pictured his grown up self as just. Another face in the crowd? Nothing special or important - when he went into seer training, his mood brightened a lot but his moods take major dips after losses, especially after the loss of robinstream and hazelnose. then , his future self would switch based on his mood: sometimes he pictured himself as well liked and a crafty seer who went down in history with a positive note, or on bad days he imagined he’d end up as a disaster seer that ran riverclan into the ground. Nowadays hes a good seer - he’s good at his job and he’s great at making friends and alliances, and pretty popular amongst the population of the season change setting!

NIGHTTHROAT || nightthroat when he was a kid probably didnt see his future self as..even existing. His mother constantly told him how hard life was and he trained under her strictly learning how to survive - his mother had lost litters before due to inexperience and by the time she had night, her biggest focus was making sure he had learned enough to survive. Any idea of his future self that night had wouldve boiled down to either being dead due to external forces or a hardened rogue living on his own, and rather lonely. However he joined riverclan and now he’s got friends that he loves and cares for deeply and his life isnt nearly as hardened or lonely as he initially imagined it would be

CHUBSTREAM || pretty cut and dry! He imagined he’d live a long happy life with his mother and sister in riverclan, and he’s growing up that path right now! He’s very content in life and with the place he’s at right now

50. What’s their earliest memory?

CUCKOOCHIRP || goofing off with his siblings in the nursery den as his mothers watched on fondly

NIGHTTHROAT || hiding out with his mom underneath a man-made object from the rain, seeking shelter until the storm passed and his mom would take him out onto a hunting trip

ROSEPAW || wrestling or playing a game with rook while his older siblings campionfang and thriftfoot watched on, occasionally dipping in with their own game for the two kits - he’d rarely see his father or yellowtail, but at least he had those three.

OTTERPAW || squashed beneath harrierkit as he tried to get away from a bath session lampreyface demanded, before wriggling out from underneath his older brother and shuffling next to shrewkit, safely wrapped up in lampreyface’s thick-furred, warm tail

CHUBSTREAM || minkkit nibbling on his ear in the middle of the night, only to get shushed in frustration by his very-tired mother because dammit minkkit stop trying to wrestle chubkit and go to sleep!

66. If they were free to do anything, be it cruel, kind, or otherwise, without fear of repercussions, what is it that your character would do?

CUCKOOCHIRP || wander freely between other clan territory! He may be allowed to venture into shadowclan’s territory since shadowclan and riverclan are on good terms (and b/c apple and cuckoo are close), but windclan and thunderclan warriors wouldnt take kindly to cuckoochirp stepping over their border boundaries willy-nilly

NIGHTTHROAT || talk about his own emotions without fear of how others would reject or react to him - maybe even ask someone specific out on a date. He’s a good mediator and he’s great at debating + speech but he rarely opens up about his own feelings

ROSEPAW || meet up with his friends whenever he pleased. He doesnt really care about borders as much, and he’d love to be able to cross and visit his friends in their camps whenever he wanted to!

OTTERPAW || word………………..probably just have a night to himself away from the camp? Or maybe just him and the cats close to him? Sometimes being in a large group gets overwhelming and he just wants to take it slow for a day

CHUBSTREAM || this isnt really a whole “fear of repercussions” thing but chub would love to raise a kitten/litter of kittens who viewed him as his dad one day but the opportunity hasn’t showed up yet. He wants 2 be a dad yo

69. Do they enjoy facing their fears? CAN they face their fears? If not, what do they do in a situation where they’re forced to face them?

CUCKOOCHIRP || huoy……cuckoo definitely doesn’t enjoy facing his fears but he can do it. He can even stand up to someone who’s terrified him - and he will which you guys will see happen in action eventually on. He has his own ways of standing up for himself/for others and being defiant against what he’s scared of

NIGHTTHROAT || :)………………he deals with a great big fear in the comic and you’ll just have to wait and see how he handles that huh ;)))

ROSEPAW || nooOOOoooo he won’t even go near windclan territory because he’s scared of it. He’d rather chase his own thrills or what he’s comfortable with rather than deal with whatever petrifies him the most. He’d probably lash out and grow aggressive if placed into a situation where he had to face those kind of fears/trauma

OTTERPAW || another great big no to both! Otter has developed a severe fear of water/being in water due to his father, so he stays away from venturing into water. He grows sick/queasy when he’s so much as paw deep in water and often crosses the territory via dry spots. He relies on hollypaw heavily when he’s scared and he would panic and flounder if dropped into the water randomly

CHUBSTREAM || i think chub could face his fears - he’s deeply worried about losing those he loves, especially with how close he came to losing minkclaw when she was injured by that fox as an apprentice. However if he ever did lose someone he was close to, he’d grieve but he would move on, eventually. Life goes on

#cuckoochirp #nightthroat #rosepaw #roseface #otterpaw #otterflower #chubstream

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owakoblack-portspa · 6 years ago

Text

A Dream of Bethlehem

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Pairings: Knights Hospitaller x Knights Templar; Prussia x South Italy

Characters: Teutonic Knights/Prussia (Gilbert), Knights Templar (Chris), Knights Hospitaller (Giovanni), Kingdom of Sicily/South Italy (Lovino)

It is not a very good day to go to Acre, not a very good day at all, people warn little Gilbert. The deeper you go into the city, the more dangerous it becomes, people say. But I am a knight, I am not afraid, Gilbert braces himself. He has seen blood flowing like a river, he has seen corpses piling up a mountain, but he has never seen a hell like this, right in the heart of the capital of the Holy Land. In the streets of Acre, where Christians fight Christians, where brothers kill brothers, homicide and fratricide become natural, even though themselves are not natural at all--it is not a holy land, it is a wild world inhabited by evils. To Gilbert’s utter disgust, after the fall of the Genoese flag, advance the crimson Hospitaller banner and a group of knights in black uniforms into the burning street. ‘Wait, can’t you spare the citizens’ houses?’ Gilbert stands in front of the charging army, but he is unwilling to draw up his sword. ‘And can’t you see the Venetians are our enemies? Step aside, child!’ a tall Hospitaller waves his naked sword towards the little albino. A heavy sound of two clashing swords--a white knight shields Gilbert from the gigantic man, and a string of blood instantly spills onto the red petit cross embroidered on the chest. Even though his left palm is pierced by the sword, and an ugly, bloody hole appears as his enemy’s sword is swiftly and cruelly drawn away, the knight does not show any sign of fear, and quite on the contrary, his angelic face still keeps on smiling. ‘Brother Chris!’ ‘Christien!’

Two boys cry out at the same time. As Gilbert is lying on the ground and Chris is standing in front of him to protect, Giovanni appears just in time, his handsome face furious and sweaty. ‘Stop! The little one is the Teutonic Knights! Our ward!’ Giovanni shouts angrily to the tall Hospitaller. The anonymous Hospitaller sheathes his sword immediately, despite Giovanni the teenager looks much younger than him. ‘I’m sorry, Your Eminence,’ the Hospitaller now looks pallid and trembles like a leaf, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt His Eminence the Order of the Temple, but...’ ‘It’s nothing.’ Chris waves his injured palm impatiently to everyone, smiling as usual, ‘I love playing the role of a martyr. I am so glad that I protected little Gil, in spite of the fact that YOU are his guardian, Gio.’ Giovanni can tell the satire in Chris’ words, but he is not going to argue with a wounded person--after all, his another profession is doctor. ‘Let me see your wound, Christien.’ Giovanni’s voice becomes softer, but firm. ‘I’ve told you it’s nothing.’ Chris’ face becomes paler as he draws his sword in a position of defence, his flaming purple eyes threatening, ‘If you dare to touch me, I’ll revenge myself on you now!’ Giovanni stops short, staring at the blond with sudden coldness, ‘I won’t if I can.’ Then he turns to Gilbert, and raises up the little boy, ‘Are you alright, Gilbert? I’ve promised the Kingdom of Sicily to take care of you. I hope you’re not hurt.’ ‘Don’t treat me like a child!’ Gilbert’s reddened eyes make him look more like a rabbit, and he jumps high to protest. Giovanni does not take his protest seriously. He simply holds up Gilbert’s clenching hand, and retreats with his army, without casting another look at Chris, who remains standing in silence .

‘Brother Gio, can’t you treat Brother Chris a little better? He has saved me! And of all things, why do you two fight each other? You both are christian military orders!’ At the Hospitaller headquarters, Gilbert enquires. ‘The Knights Templar are stronger than us. If we don’t fight to protect ourselves, we’ll be destroyed by them.’ Giovanni replies calmly. ‘Why do the Knights Templar want to destroy you? Brother Chris in fact is very kind-hearted. Even though he knows I am on your side, he teaches me combat skills...hoops!’ Gilbert just realises that he has leaked the secret between Chris and himself. ‘Gilbert, you know I’m not happy to hear this. I hope you won’t betray me as you’ve developed a good relationship with my archrival.’

It has been a week since Chris was injured, and since that day, Gilbert has been bringing medicine to the Templar castle on Giovanni’s command as a punishment of his ‘betrayal’. What Giovanni requires Gilbert to keep in mind, is that Gilbert must not let Chris know who is actually prescribing medications. However, in the end, Gilbert cannot help telling the truth to Chris, ‘Brother Chris, I really hope you can stop fighting with Brother Gio. You see, he regrets what he’s done to you, and sends...’ ‘I hope Gio is not behind this, otherwise I will not accept medicine from you any more.’ Chris interrupts quickly. ‘Why do you hate Brother Gio so much, Brother Chris?’ ‘I hate him for not sending me medicine, and I will hate him more if he asks you to send me medicine. In sum, I just hate him.’ Chris strokes his bandaged left palm with tender passion, but Gilbert is too young to observe this detail or understand these words.

After this street fight, the two gangs seem to have ceased fire for a while, not only because one of their leaders is injured, but also because the festive spirit is approaching. In the Cathedral of Acre, people busy themselves with the preparation of the biggest event of the year--Christmas. The interior of the church is semi-decorated, and still more flowers and plants are coming. ‘Gilbert, have you understood the ceremony process that I’ve just told you?’ Giovanni bends down to speak in the ear of the absent-minded little knight. Both of them stand beside the alter. Gilbert jumps, and finally turns his attention from revery to the taller knight, ‘Sorry, what did you just say?’ ‘Could you tell me why you can’t take your eyes off the audience seats in the church? Are you expecting someone?’ Giovanni frowns. ‘Brother Gio, do you know if Frater will visit Acre for Christmas?’ Gilbert asks carefully. ‘Yes, the Kingdom of Sicily told so me in a letter. And he will attend the Christmas mass as well.’ On hearing the news, Gilbert reacts dramatically: firstly his jaw drops, then his grin broadens, and finally he raises his hands high up in the air, ‘Hallelujah! What a good tiding!’ ‘Calm down yourself, Gilbert! Shouting is forbidden in the church. And if you don’t want Sicily to be disappointed with you, you have to work hard in preparation, understood? It’s your first time to celebrate Christmas, there’re many things for you to learn.’ ‘I know, I know! I’ll work hard for Frater, and on Christmas I’m going to pay my homage to Frater, and then I’ll become a real knight! I’m so awesome! Everything’s going to be perfect! Kesesese!’ Gilbert laughs happily. ‘Don’t be too proud, Gilbert. You have to work hard to achieve your goal. Remember: no pain, no gain.’ ‘But there’s someone lazier than me! Even though Brother Chris’ wound is getting much better, he never comes to the rehearsal, and he’s going to sing in the choir!’ ‘Christien’s done the mass many times so he doesn’t need much rehearsing, and in fact, I don’t think he wants to see me.’ Giovanni looks at the choir practicing singing in a corner of the church, which is consisted of young boys in white dresses. The most beautiful one is missing, just as he has expected.

The Cathedral of Acre has already been enunciated with devout Christians hours before the bells announce the approach of Christmas and the beginning of the Christmas Midnight Mass. The interior of the cathedral is full of the festive spirit, decorated with myriads of flowers, draperies, hangings, ribbons, and candles, making this spacious sacred place shine with all colours of the solar spectrum. Now the congregation is holding its breath to hear the steps of the approaching holy moment, that is to say, waiting for the mass procession enter into the nave. After the bells strike twelve times, silence remains as if time stood still, so everybody turns their head to the church entrance to look for the priests and professed knights. After several seconds pass, finally, to everyone’s relief, the door opens, and a group of people in surplice solemnly walk in. At the head of them is little Gilbert with silver hair and red-pupiled eyes, swinging from side to side a golden, smoking censer in his hands. The little albino holds his chin high and looks straight ahead, so even the distant audience can tell from his rigid movements and his slightly reddened physiognomy that he is at the moment very nervous. Many in the congregation do know that for this new-born German military order, it must be his first time to perform holy services in such a big event, and accordingly they understand his nervousness and cross their fingers to pray for his success in the debut. Among the understanding, kind-hearted people, is Lovino, the Kingdom of Sicily, who comes all the way from Palermo for this special occasion, and who now sticks his little brown head out from the crowd into the aisle covered with red carpets, which makes him so distinct that even Gilbert’s sweat-filmed eyes cannot prevent the little knight from noticing this great kingdom from afar. Consequently, Gilbert starts short, as if petrified, but Lovino is no malicious Medusa--quite on the contrary, he is the most amiable personage here, so he tries to unlock the magic spell by waving his little hand and smiling sweetly to his little knight, to salute, and to encourage him. However, for Gilbert, this is more like an ignition before an explosion than a mere encouragement, for in response, stuffed of energy, he sets himself off high in the air like a rocket, the censer in his hands swinging like a mad turning wheel, spilling hot incense everywhere. All at once a commotion is caused--people sitting nearby the aisle stand up to run, only to find that within such a dense crowd running is almost impossible, thus some panic is caused as well. At this critical moment, Giovanni, who walks beside the bishop in the middle of the procession, dashes out to catch the censer which now is flying out of Gilbert’s hands, and fortunately, after the catch, he is agile enough to regain his balance in time, and stands upright with the golden censer safely contained in his hands. He makes some effort to restrain himself from panting heavily, and immediately resumes his solemn, imperturbable look to hide his shock of this unexpected episode. Realising what has just happened, Gilbert becomes the most panicked person in the cathedral. He dare not look at Lovino’s face to see his disappointment, so he looks down onto the floor, feeling too shameful for himself to move. Seeing this, Giovanni pats Gilbert’s shoulder from behind to urge him to proceed, otherwise the procession would be blocked even though Gilbert is short and tiny. Accordingly Gilbert moves on, and from now on, he becomes half absent-minded for his sense of guilt, head drooping. Despite this, the following process goes on smoothly, the episode is soon forgotten, the audience watch the performance of the servers quietly, listen to the priests’ sermons attentively, and respond by saying ‘amen’ when their heart is quite touched. However, Gilbert’s tribulations are not yet finished. As a novice, he is to give a speech in front of the holy altar, in the face of the public. It is a narration of the nativity, which should have been already familiar to any christian, so before the mass, Gilbert was so confident that he did not bring the script with him. Now, it is high time for Gilbert’s speech, and for the sake of the sense of guilt he is still sweating heavily as if he had just been fished out from the sea: ‘It was...it was in the year of four before Christ, before Christ was born. (A pause.) On the day when Christ was born, Mary found no place to lie down herself and give birth to her child, so she just...she just lied down on the floor, (some hiss from the audience) and she saw stars shining bright in the sky. Oh, I forget to say, (laugh from the audience) there was an angel coming from the sky to tell her that the child is the savior of mankind. So back to the night when Jesus was born, there were three magicians...(somebody hoots)’ Finally Gilbert’s frustrated voice seems to fade away, and people can hardly hear what the little knight is saying, and neither can they see his mouth moving, for he persists in hanging his head down. Lovino, who sits in the front row for the prerogatives possessed by such a great kingdom like him, clasps his hands all the time to pray for Gilbert, and he even dare not bat his big, radiant eyes lest they would distract his knight, but it seems all his prayers are in vain. Giovanni, who stands righteously and solemnly among the priests and servers, is as anxious as Lovino from the bottom of his heart. ‘Can anyone please do something?’ he asked without producing a sound.

‘--Long time ago in Bethlehem So the Holy Bible say Mary’s boy child, Jesus Christ Was born on Christmas day.’

Suddenly, people hear someone singing. At first, people think it is the ringing sound of a crystal stream, for it is so limpid, so pure; and then, when they realise that it is from above, they take it as the voice of an angel, for it is so beautiful and so unearthly, like a beam of light piercing through thick clouds to warm the earth, to fill everyone’s heart with bliss. While the confused audience are looking about themselves, only Giovanni immediately finds out whence the voice is from--he has heard this voice on every Christmas, and yet he still can hardly believe it--as soon as he hears the singing, he raises his head and looks up to the carved balcony facing the altar where he is standing by, and sure enough, he sees a thin, pale figure stand out of the choir boys, beneath the enormous silver organ. It is Chris who is singing. He is clad in white, laced surplice, his pale countenance becomes more tender in the radiance from the white texture, and his soft, curly blond hair makes him shine like a midnight sun. He is not yet grown up, his delicate human form hardly tells his gender, and therefore he looks more beautiful than any man or woman, and so clinks his sweet, heavenly singing voice. Here he stands, so pure he looks, so angelically he sings, even Giovanni has to admit that on this particular occasion, if Chris were not the messenger from God, he cannot tell who this sweet creature could be. ‘It’s the Knights Templar!’ a little girl cries out happily, and her mother quickly quiets her. Even Gilbert looks up from the floor to the balcony gratefully as if he has found his savior, so continues Chris:

‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night Them see a bright new shining star Them hear a choir sing The music seemed to come from afar.

Now, Joseph and his wife, Mary Come to Bethlehem that night Them find no place to born she child Not a single room was in sight.

By and by, they find a little nook In a stable all forlorn And in a manger cold and dark Mary’s little Boy was born.’

The choir boys standing behind Chris, who are also sweet-looking, though not as beautiful as he, begin to sing harmoniously, and all the people in the cathedral sing along:

‘Hark, now hear the angels sing A new king born today And man will live forevermore Because of Christmas day.’

Now everyone rejoices again, because they take part in such a beautiful choir led by an angel, and has never felt so close to God before.

In many aspects, the midnight mass is as successful as last year, so afterwards everybody goes home happily. However, in a dark corner of the sacristy, Gilbert is found sobbing quietly. Because others are gone, only Giovanni and Chris see him. Chris bends down over Gilbert, beaming innocently as ever, and says cheerfully, ‘Gil, don’t cry, it’s Christmas!’ ‘I’m so stupid, I know nothing of Christmas! I’m not fit for being a knight!’ Gilbert tries to conceal his tearful face by burying it between his crouching knees. Even though Giovanni was unhappy for Gilbert’s failures of performance at tonight’s mass, which he believes are the results of Gilbert’s arrogance and ignorance of his persuasion, his benign heart is touched by the little one’s sadness and frustration, so he attempts to comfort Gilbert: ‘To err is human. If you learn from experience, you’ll be forgiven.’ Nevertheless, Giovanni’s austere tone makes Gilbert feel more miserable, ‘Forgiven? Will I be forgiven by Frater? Perhaps I can’t never become his knight!’ ‘Gio, you frightened little Gil!’ Chris criticises his big rival, and continues to console Gilbert by an even more tender voice, ‘come on, Gil, I’ll show you something. I’m sure you’ll learn Christmas by heart. Don’t worry.’ He winks, stands up, and leads Gilbert to the courtyard of the cathedral. Giovanni does not trust Chris, so he follows them into the cool midnight air. Standing under the purple starry sky, Chris brings out from his pocket a plain stone cup. ‘I’m going to use this to bring us to the night when our Lord Jesus Christ was born. You can come with us if you want, Gio.’ ‘Wait, is this...the Holy Grail?’ Giovanni is astonished. ‘Exactly.’ Chris replies matter-of-factly. ‘I didn’t know you possess it.’ Giovanni says darkly, and quickly makes the sign of the cross. In secret, he feels his stomach aching--how come his rival obtains the most sacred relic in the christian world? ‘You don’t have to know everything,’ smiles Chris. It happens very fast. After a flash of blinding light, the three knights are altogether brought to another time and place. The time is still night, but the environment is changed into a dry, rocky wild land. ‘Look! There’s the bright shining star!’ Chris points to the enormous brilliant star hanging in the eastern sky. ‘What does this mean?’ Gilbert is bewildered by this strange environment. ‘Gilbert, how many times have I told you to read the Bible more carefully?’ Giovanni’s austere look makes Gilbert wince. ‘Relax, Gio. It’s the Holy Night, let’s behold the miracle!’ Chris leads the group to walk in the direction of the bright star. After a while, they see a manger at the top of a hill. ‘Is it...?’ Gilbert is shushed abruptly by Giovanni. The three of them carefully approach the manger on tiptoe. The manger basks in the bright shining star right above, so they can see the scene clearly: Mary has just now given birth to baby Jesus, who is sleeping comfortably in his mother’s arms, and Joseph stands by them, watching the baby with great interest and affection. Noticing people approaching, Mary is alert, but as soon as she sees these people are three good-looking young boys in some kind of cassocks, she smiles and gestures them to come closer. ‘Our Lord Jesus, we’ve come to worship you.’ Both Giovanni and Chris kneel down before the little baby who opens his beautiful eyes to look upon them curiously. After realising who the baby is, Gilbert imitates his brothers to fall on kneels, not without clumsiness. Seeing this, Mary smiles affectionately to the timid little knight, and says, ‘thank you for visiting us in such a bleak winter night. Don’t be anxious, little knight, baby Jesus is very happy to see you.’ Gilbert looks up to see Mary’s smiling face, and sees a mother in her, a mother he has never had, or met, in his life. Suddenly, the albino bursts into tears, ‘oh Mother, Mother!’ Mary pats Gilbert’s silver head, speaks to him in a voice so gentle as if singing a lullaby, ‘little child, you have such beautiful hair. Don’t cry, you’ll be loved.’ It is Gilbert’s first time to be praised by someone for his hair--being an albino, he has been jeered and teased all his life. It is not necessary to describe how happy Gilbert is in seeing the Holy Virgin, and he lays his head upon her knees. Meanwhile, Giovanni finds Chris’ pale face full of tears too. Before the little Lord, the beautiful knight clasps his hands tightly while on his knees--he looks so pious, so humble that he makes this moment divine. Unconsciously, Giovanni wears a smile on his face-- O Silent Night! O Holy Night!

On the next morning, Gilbert is woken up by a familiar voice: ‘Gil, wake up! Are you alright?’ When he opens his eyes, he sees Lovino shaking his shoulder anxiously. Thus he sits up abruptly, ‘Frater! Why are you here?’ ‘Dear Gil! I was worried about you so I came to the morning mass early to see if you’re alright, but I didn’t know you slept in the courtyard over night!’ Lovino exclaims, ‘it is not good! You’ll catch cold!’ His puffing face is on the brink of tears. It is Gilbert’s turn to feel worried too, for his heart will break if he sees Lovino cry. ‘Dear Frater, I’m totally fine, so please don’t cry!’ he holds Lovino’s little hand, faking a smile to comfort him, ‘I spent a whole night with Brother Gio and Brother Chris to worship little Lord Jesus in Bethlehem, you have to know how happy I am! Please don’t worry about me!’ ‘Really?’ Lovino’s watery emerald eyes look into Gilbert’s rubies, and he sees truthfulness in them, ‘good, then. But where are Gio and Chris?’ Both of them look around. Beside the wall of the cathedral, they see Giovanni and Chris lying down there, holding each other’s body closely as if to keep warm and sleep more comfortably. Hearing noises, the two sleepy knights are awakened--it is not difficult to imagine the surprised look on their faces. However, instead of letting out a shriek or kicking each other away, in peace, they exchange morning greetings: ‘Morning, Gio.’ Chris smiles like an angel waking up from his sweetest dream. ‘Good morning, Christien.’ Giovanni blushes. He will never admit that it is Chris’ crystal purple eyes that make his heart beat fast, and he feels a little reluctant to let Chris’ warm body leave his arms when both of them get back to their feet. ‘Christien, wait!’ ‘What?’ Chris quickly turns back to face Giovanni, his huge eyes sparkling. ‘I want to apologise for the wound in your palm. I should have stopped my people hurting you.’ Giovanni smites his handsome brow. ‘It’s not your fault,’ Chris smiles mildly, ‘and I want to thank you for healing me.’ ‘You know the medicine was sent by me?’ ‘Of course, do you forget how long we’ve known each other? And as I’m your archrival, who do you think could know you better than me?’ Smiling mysteriously, Chris briskly wheels around. Without knowing why, Giovanni suddenly feels a special attachment to his rival and comrade, so he instinctively follows Chris’ white robe, which is billowing in the wind like an angel’s enormous wings. Later on, in the Christmas morning mass, people are surprised to see the two long-term rivals stand side by side in the procession, and even exchange friendly looks at intervals during the liturgy. ‘It happens once a year that the two great military orders make a truce. After all, it’s Christmas, it’s time for peace, for forgiveness, and for love.’ Among the audience, some Venetians whisper quietly, and then they shake hands with their Genoese neighbours. As for Gilbert, this time, he has done much better especially in the narration of the nativity. When the mass is done and the cathedral becomes empty, he cautiously kneels down before Lovino, ‘dear Frater, I want to be your knight, but I’m not yet perfect--could you wait until I’m fit?’ ‘I don’t need you to be perfect. Whenever you feel yourself is ready, I’ll be ready to take you as my knight.’ Lovino blushes. ‘I promise it won’t be too long, Frater.’ Gilbert tenderly kisses Lovino’s hand.

(End)

#hetalia #APH #prussia x south italy #prussia x romano #APH Prussia #aph south italy #aph teutonic knights #aph knights templar #aph knights hospitaller #prumano

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zehypocriticaloath · 6 years ago

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Birds of a feather

Flicking his cigarette to the snow covered ground, he watched as the dying embers, glowing weakly at the end of the stick, sizzled against the cold, wet substance.

The snow was coming down heavy today. Reports were saying that it’d develop into a blizzard. There would be no scheduled skirmishes today. There would be no scheduled spars. There would be the guarantee that the machinations and machinery that comprised of the Respawn system would be far too cold and, potentially, be iced over. Engineers would be needed in order to chip away at the frostbitten gears, getting it back to snuff before it could be functional again. Which, in all likelihood, would be the next day.

If the blizzard stopped by then.

Coldfront was known for its snowy days. After all, there wouldn’t be a Coldfront with a bitter, cold front constantly threatening to assault it. But, based on the doctor’s recollection of weather and its patterns, a front was a change of air (in this case, cold), that clashed with air of the opposite temperature. In this case, cold against warm. The front was a rare skip in mother nature’s plans, abruptly changing the weather from one extreme to another, but only for a temporary amount of time.

So why the hell was Coldfront so cold, all the time?

The medical madman sat where he was on a snow dusted, overturned crate. He watched the poetically beautiful black forms, high up in the sky, dart and drift on chilly updrafts. They were dancers, drifting here and there between curtains of thickly falling snow. They were his companions, his friends; the wild, untamed corvids that he had befriended on his many walks and smoke breaks. They were his outside guardians, watching over him whenever he was outside.

He found comfort in those birds. They were cunning and intelligent. They got what they wanted, in any way necessary. They were adaptable. They survived. And while most of society considered them to be of ill omen, he found them to be nothing but good luck. During most of his life he had been drawn to the sleek black birds that society all but shunned. He found them worthy to be in this world. More worthy, perhaps, than some humans that walked the earth, both in past and present tenses.

But that was just his opinion.

As he fished around for another cigarette, he felt a strange heaviness in his lungs. A momentary pause to assess the situation, he just sat there, his chilled breath smothered up partially by the thick, warm scarf he wore. Was he getting sick? Was this just the cold, clear air of the alpines, stinging at his lungs with its purity? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be sure.

In this world, he was hardly sure of anything.

Except... for the unwanted intruders, locked in the prison of his mind.

His mind was rambling today, as it usually did whenever he was waiting for his medication to take effect. The little pink pills that Dr. Hollow (that mouse of a man!) made did the trick to keep some of his symptoms at bay, but it wasn’t a cure. Nothing was a cure. Nothing could ever be a cure for his state of illness. His medication wasn’t a cure. The security of friends wasn’t a cure. The love given to him by others wasn’t a cure. All of these things... they could help in giving him a sense of security, a pillar to cling to, but that’s all it was: a barricade to temporarily hold back his plight and allow him a moment or two to refocus on what was around him.

The medication did wonders in dulling his symptoms. The world wasn’t as loud. The colors didn’t pierce his skull. The world stayed still. He could breathe a little without delving into a fit of panic.

Rubbing his temples in agitation, he waited for the numbing of his mind, the quieting of the cacophonous shrieking and insults. He longed for a day when the world didn’t spin and the walls didn’t creep, like some writhing, loathsome thing living beneath the surface of his room. He desperately wanted the creeping clutches of paranoia to release him for just a moment-- just one moment -- so he could finally lower his guard and allow his battered mind and body to relax. But he was always on edge... and always tense. He was always expecting the worst and seeing the worst in everything around him. He was constantly fighting a war with his own mind, even when he was merely doing his paperwork (begrudgingly so, adding insult to injury).

Lately his mental illness hadn’t bothered him. Not as much as it had in the past, at least. His forced regime of taking his medication was, mostly, to be credited for this. That and the gentle nagging of his brother, Abelärd. The annoying dove was always checking up on him and, while Aldous did not enjoy such visits, he had to outright admit that his brother’s near constant presence in his life helped.

Not that he’d ever admit that to his brother. Over his dead body.

As his mind raced and rambled on, amidst the shuttering whispers and hisses in his head, he noticed that one of the wild corvids had approached him. This one... he had seen it before. Fumbling with something in his pocket, he took out a miniature reference book. Flipping frantically past pages lined with bird drawings and notes (penned in Deutsche), he landed on the well thumbed through corvid page.

“...You are... a ... chough.”

The subspecies of a crow looked up at him with curious, beady eyes. It stood apart from the snow all around it, its sleek, black body brilliant in the weak light of the mid-morning.

“An alpine chough. ...Fascinating.” Fishing around for his pen, he found it and, after scribbling down the date next to the bird, pocketed both items once more. “What it must be like to be a bird. I envy you.”

He spoke in his native tongue, knowing full well the bird more than likely did not understand Deutsche, let alone English. Didn’t matter to him. Company was nice to have. Someone, or something, to talk to. Something to break up the monotony of this world.

The chough hopped a little closer, and the tiny bird peered up inquisitively at the scarred man. It was a brave little cuss. It showed no fear or trepidation in approaching the human.

Aldous dipped his gloved hand into the bag next to him, and he brought out a handful of food. Seeds, dried berries and dried insects; a mix he had come to learn most corvidae enjoyed.

The food was scattered. The chough daintily picked through most, focusing, instead, on the dried berries. Vegetation. It preferred vegetation. Interesting.

More of the corvidae class approached him following the scattering of the food. They were lured in by the offer of lunch. Crows, and rooks; ravens and choughs. They all dined amongst one another, some carrying food over to the more elderly of the group.

Family. Corvidae looked after their own. They took care of their sick, their elderly, and kept a tight knit community. Even those who were a bit more of an outcast than most were welcomed in and accepted.

Aldous knew he was the outcast. He was the odd little crow or raven, old and bedraggled, in the mix of all these flashy, colorful types. His wings were a bit dull, and they weren’t exactly glossy anymore. And his feathers? More than frayed a bit on the edges. He couldn’t fly anymore, and he was scarred. But there were people, like his brother, and his friends... who looked after him.

Just like the ravens who were pushing food towards their elderly parents, the people in his life cared.

So what if he was an ill-omened bird. And so what if he was scary, or had an illness. There were members of his unkindness that helped look after him. They did so out of the goodness of their own hearts. No obligations other than the one formed by a tightly knit bond.

...He admired those people. And he secretly thanked them for caring. Caring enough to reach out to him; to get to know him instead of just believing the rumors, or stopping when he put up his defensive front.

He wondered, one day, if he could properly thank them for their kindness. Until then, he’d continue to watch over them, protecting their backs when they were looking away.

After all, he may be scarred and damaged, but he was still strong. He was a crow, or a raven. He was intelligent. He was cunning. He was adaptable...

And he was surviving.

#writing featuring Aldous #ic

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yeoldontknow · 6 years ago

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Hey! I really enjoy your work and I’ve always wanted to write a story myself but I don’t know where to start! How do you plan out a story and come up with an ide for one?

hi anon

but before i start - please know that outlining, planning, or developing a story is a very subjective and personal experience. my method might not be the one you like, it might not work for you, it might even be confusing or too loose. many people on here like to use the JK rowling method (which you can find on google) but that, in my opinion, makes me feel like i dont give my characters room to breathe or have control of minor plot points.

putting the rest under a cut because it can get lengthy ~~

heres how the process goes for me:

COMING UP WITH AN IDEAtruly, and i mean this with so much emphasis i cannot stress it enough, my ideas for stories come from literally everywhere. im inspired by books, shows, music - mostly music. i find engaging with creative media inspires my overactive imagination and makes me start building worlds. here are some examples of where my story ideas came from:

HERO - down in china town in NYC, theres this complex of abandoned buildings that have antiques scattered around the front. no one touches them, and the entry to the buildings is gated off. between the two buildings is a courtyard that looks like a seating area. when i walked by it last year, there were empty crates, food wrappers, wetness that looked a bit like blood (might not have been, but in NYC mystery liquid could be anything). i walked by and immediately started imagining gang activity (specifically the triad), horror, etc. the setting came first, then came the plot.

AS STILL AS SOUND - i was listening to music on my computer while writing hero and there was a brief moment of fuzz or static that sounded like breathing. i was reminded of land line phones that had cords when i was a kid, and every now and then there would be transistor interference and youd hear other people talking. this happened a lot with dial up too. i had a brief moment of, what if this was someone listening to the same song as me?

IT WAS THE NIGHT - its based on phantom of the opera, which is a book from the 1800s and later adapted into a musical, but its my spin on the story without Stockholm Syndrome and facial burns.

PLANNING A STORYfor me, developing a story goes two ways. its based on the following:

- is it a one shot- is it a mini/series

if its a one shot, planning tends to be pretty brief. depending on what inspires me first, i dont actually make a google doc for the plot. i make a sticky note on my computer where i bullet point the major things i want to happen from start to finish. i stick that as the top floating window and i write everything out in google docs. even long one shots like currents (16K words) or my smut pieces (troque = 9K; body through time = 10K) are plotted this way - just using bullet points. this isnt to say one shots dont have depth or action - a lot of them do. its just that the action in the one shot isnt being carried forward far enough that id need to outline it deeply. also, doing it with bullet points means my dialogue is open to shift and change small things as needed without interfering with major events.

if its a series, thats a whole other ball game. i dont even know how to explain my outlining method. usually, i start with characters and their descriptions, facts about them i want to move forward in various chapters or bring up through dialogue. the character outlines for wyrm tamer are a good example:

once i have characters, i will usually draft some of the first inspirational things i want to include in the story. going back above to ‘where do you get ideas,’ sometimes im inspired by sentences that emerge in my head. ill write those down, and then ill get quotes from other sources that inspire me. in hero, that meant bible verses.

as you can see in the above, i plot out sentences at random. theyre disjointed and i dont know when or if ill use them, but if i do i highlight them in green so i know not to repeat them. you can see, with a small spoiler, i havent used the black line yet. when or if i do, it will be highlighted.

once i have those things, i plot out major events i want happening in the chapters in bullet points. almost exactly how i do the one shot plotting, except more in depth. i break out every chapter, fill in characters, create minor plots and develop the action that way - but in a very drafty style. this is because for a series, i take giving my characters room to breathe seriously. a good example of change is hero. hero OC says A LOT of shit i never planned on her saying, which changes the directions of many chapters and makes me move stuff around. the major events never change. i wont let them, but how we get there has to be up to the characters.

as you can see in the above, the whole length of this draft was meant to be in chapter 11 a or b. both a and b became wayyyy too long to include them, and by the end, the conversation didnt fit. so i moved it to 12.

lastly, i go to pinterest or google and i look up pictures that inspire me lmao i put them in the bottom of the doc and look back at them when im tired of being in the world lmao they remind me how great the space is and im inspired again.

i hope all this helped!

#writing advice #plus a hero spoiler lmao #Anonymous

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therealestatesparkblog · 6 years ago

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Q & A With Real Estate Attorney: Structuring JVs, Newbie Closing Mistakes, and How to Build Your Team

Whether youre on your way to your first deal or your 50th, one thing you cant escape is the paperworkyouve got to get your deals signed, sealed, delivered. For that reason, one of the most important pieces of your team is your legal representation. You need lawyers for real estate, contracts, andeventually, as you graduate to developmentand use and zoning regulations. The Importance of Legal Representation in Real Estate In my case, one particular land use and zoning attorney single-handedly, overnight, took my business from two- and three-family properties to high rise developments. Because of thisI kid you notI ended up on the cover on my home countrys version of The Wall Street Journal, with words like glorious and tycoon used to describe me. What?!

Imagine that. Only in America. I started my real estate company in 2016, basically just picking up smaller duplexes and triplexes. In late 2017, my father, my nephew and I set up a development subsidiary. We started with $850,000 in seed capital to pursue more aggressive opportunities. Since then, weve exploded, inching close to $80MM in the development pipeline. One of the key components to that growth strategy has been how we structure our acquisitions legally. (And not legally as in not illegal, but legally like the legal composition of the transactions paperwork.) Structuring Deals as Joint Ventures My favorite method is through joint ventures (JV). In Q1 alone, weve gone under contract for over 200,000 square feet of buildable real estate. Altogether, when built, those properties have an estimated $56MM aggregate valueall through the JV. Dmitriy Ishimbayev runs his law firm from the 85th floor of the World Trade Center. This is us here, actually discussing the structure of one particular simple JV we thought we had in the books.

Since the deal isnt happening, Ill spill the beans. Hopefully the person who reneged will read this and feel embarrassed (since well most likely do business in the future). A piece of shovel-ready land (i.e., no approvals needed) on a corner lot by Temple University was for sale at $175,000owned free and clear. It was a decent corner lot. It didnt work as a straight buy at that price point. But it could work as a JV.

Gist of This Deal Sellers bring the land. I bring the capital. A third partner builds. We earn an even 33 percent for each. For this specific deal, we were looking at an ARV of $1 million at $600K to build. Usually you structure these a bit differently, but in this case, it turned out everyone actually knew each other. Happy days. Lets just keep it simple, I said. And well roll over the proceeds to a larger deal. Seller agreed. All agreed.We sent the contract and were just waiting for the signature. All of a sudden, the seller wants money. The third partner texts me with the news, asking, What price point would you consider it at for a straight buy? Im not interested, I responded. It doesnt work as an acquisition, only as a JV. I didnt care what discount the would offer me, a deal is a deal. So the deal was off. It is what it is. It happens. To be honest, I was doing the deal to let my 20-year-old rockstar associate KT build his own portfolio and earn his first promote. Lesson? A deal isnt done until the ink is dry. I mentor many young investors, either through advice or smaller co-investments. And they often ask, How do you talk landowners into giving you their land?! Well, its a little more complex than that. (Im going to write about this particular growth strategyand how I do itin detail in another piece.) At the end of the day, your paperwork has to be airtight. So I figured we should get the answers straight from the horses mouth: the attorney behind the activity. Q & A With Real Estate and Business Attorney Dmitriy Ishimbayev I went back to World Trade to sit down with Dmitriy. And boy, do I have some gems to share with you. In this question and answer session, we discussed mistakes newbie investors make, how to avoid them, and what every new investor should look for before, during, and after closing.

Whats up, D! Dmitriy Ishimbayev: Hello, Philip. Lets do this. You see a million deals on a daily basis, from single family to high rises. Whats the number one mistake you see real estate investors make contractually? I think the number one mistake real estate investors make is that they do not include the right contingencies. Or, even worse, they dont put contingencies at all. A lot of real estate dealsfrom tiny deals to complex transactionshave skeletons. And you, as an investor, should have an option to get out of the deal if the deal turns out not to be what you signed up for. When youre new to something, you really dont know what you dont know. Whats the best advice you can give young real estate investorsentrepreneurs evenas they get ready for their first deal, investment, or even business? I always tell my clients, be it entrepreneurs, real estate investors, or business owners, start building your team earlyand dont do it alone. Find people with experience in your fieldand that applies to mentors, lawyers, accountants, and other advisors. Does that mean find someone with decades of experience? Do not hire a lawyer just because he or she has 30 years of experience. Find a lawyer who has experience in what you plan to do. If youre an entrepreneur, find one who understands the fast-paced world of a startup. If youre a real estate investor, one who understands the complexity of a real estate transaction. But most importantlyas cliche as it soundsfind people who care about the success of your venture and who are interested in building a long-lasting relationship with you. What are the main issues you see come up during a closing period? In most of the deals, things come up the last minute, and you need to make sure that you have an experienced attorney who knows how to navigate the deal toward closing. Most delays happen because one party relies on the other party to do something (thinking, Well, it is not my responsibility) and loses sight of the end goal of everyonethe closing. So make sure your attorney stays on top of all the parties involved, the attorney representing the other party, lender, title company, brokers, etc. One of the issues that comes up quite often is people underestimate how long it takes to accomplish certain tasks, especially when you deal with lenders, coop boards, or municipalities. For example, to order a collateral for a simple co-op sale can take four to six weeks; getting an inspection done by the city officials can take weeks. The lesson: start early with all the paperwork and dont leave anything until the last moment. Some readers may be thinking, How do I do a JV? Whats the benefit of a real estate joint venture? JV is a great tool that allows you to be creative in how you structure a transaction. For example, in the Temple triplex deal [you mentioned earlier], each party had a unique asset or skill: one party was to contribute the land, another was to bring financing, and the third was to develop the project. Is this common and can other investors do this also? This type of JV is somewhat common for real estate transactions. The main benefits of a JV from a legal perspective are that it is very flexible and it allows to share the risks between the parties. Once you decide, however, to go the JV route, make sure you have a written JV agreement, outlining all the duties and responsibilities of all parties involved.

What other questions do you have about joint ventures? Let me know in a comment below! https://www.biggerpockets.com/blog/real-estate-attorney-jvs-mistakes-team

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