#literally a CORNERSTONE of birthdays
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I JUST REALIZED AMERICANS DONT DO THE BIRTHDAY CAKE THING WTF
#icarus speaks#literally a CORNERSTONE of birthdays#bc in brasil the tradition is that the first cake cut goes to the person ur closest with/love most#which wasn’t as big of an issue when i was a kid#bc it was largely just me and my cousin so we just gave it to each other#but now that we have younger cousins/siblings it’s a war zone#my goal is to have the oldest of the three one day give it to me. i WILL be that kids favorite
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My kids’ school magazine is celebrating its 35th birthday with facts about the year 1989, which is also my birth year. And can I just say what an awesome year and literal cornerstone in history it was?! I’ve always found it awesome to have been born in a country that was still divided when I was born and a month later was then reunited in a peaceful revolution. What a moment in history.
Compared to that, the other things are relatively small, but I still love that I’m also the same age as the Gameboy and the worldwide web (pretty important development in hindsight). Oh, and the Simpsons 😜
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part 1 (1985-1990): the saga of jeremy brett through the scuttlebutt archives
go here for part two!
since 1971, sherlockian and baker st irregular, peter blau has published a small "gossip" sheet for all sherlock holmes news under publication of the "scuttlebutt from the spermaceti press." after the advent of computers, peter started digitizing all his sheets from 1985 onward.
i went through blau's archives to look for any tidbits on jeremy brett. what i found tells jeremy's saga as granada's sherlock holmes. some of the entries are very straightforward. some of them require reading through the lines. some of them are just fun background bits of granada. but all of them paint jeremy's story through little snippets of news.
March 1985: granada premieres in america! vincent price quoted edgar w. smith, one of the foremost sherlockians in history :)
July 1985: the beginning of the closing chapter of his life
for some reason these are the only pictures i can find of joan and jeremy together, but they are absolutely adorable
August 1985 #1
August 1985 #2: jeremy's flightiness around the role trickles to the press. though he'll never say why.
"'and then i hang my pipes up,'" he said with a smile." his feelings regarding holmes were dangerous before joan's death and only got worse.
to quote producer june wyndham-davies, "when his depression was upon him, and he suffered from depression of the worst kind, he was a different person entirely. i've never known anyone whose personality could change so much. he would become aggressive and not want to continue. i had so many conversations with jeremy about not wanting to continue as sherlock holmes. he felt that sherlock holmes had turned him into a monster. jeremy brett was like that before he ever came to sherlock holmes, but it wasn't his fault and it certainly wasn't sherlock holmes fault."
December 1987: i didn't know he commissioned the play, the secret of sherlock holmes! and helped write it!!
February 1988: damn, that's audacious
May 1988: i can only imagine how much more would've been created and executed if jeremy hadn't gotten sick
okay but, the dog in the hound of the baskervilles is named khan. the movie is literally the wrath of khan.
June 1988: i can't pinpoint the timeline for when jeremy's mental illness became public knowledge and published by the media. however, from this short news clipping, it doesn't seem like they knew the real reason jeremy's hair was cut short. and almost certainly not that he chopped it off himself.
"jeremy just got into one of his manic states—you know, i hate sherlock holmes etc., and one day he cut his hair. in front of the mirror, he lopped bits off. i remember the first time I saw him after he had done it. we were both appearing in an 80th birthday tribute to sir laurence olivier at the national. he turned up at the theatre and i said, 'god, what have you done to your hair?' it was patently obvious it had not been cut by a barber—there were bits sticking up all over." -edward hardwicke
July 1988: the age of jeremy brett! forget the victorian era, this is the jeremerian? brettian? era
October 1988 #1
October 1988 #2: jeremy's insecurities shine through more. high praise for daniel day-lewis. "don't worry you haven't heard or seen the last of him!" congrats to jeremy for introducing lewis to america LOL. yay for play success! (also what does he mean by saying the private life of sherlock holmes is a "damaged film?" robert stephens was one of jeremy's life long best friends--stephens died exactly 2 months after jeremy. coincidentally, jeremy's ex-boyfriend, paul shenar, died exactly one month after jeremy.)
October 1988 #3: L O L
November 1988 #1: jeremy's opinion matters!
November 1988 #2: in my opinion, "bending the willow" is the most important part of jeremy's interpretation of holmes
August 1989: michael cox (the cornerstone of creating and shaping the first half of granada's run) begins to make his (very forced) exit. jeremy's physical health problems are becoming apparent, but they are brushed away by the actor, attributing his breathing issues and weight gain to heavy smoking. and once again, jeremy tries to cast off holmes, without revealing his true reasons.
according to granada's page on the arthur conan doyle encyclopedia, this is what was really happening:
"the performances were probably cathartic for him, but required excessive physical effort from a man with a worsening heart condition who, due to the enormous water retention caused by the lithium, found it difficult to breathe and move. he was forced to leave the theatre and go to hospital, where he stayed for a fortnight and had more than twelve litres of water removed from his body. by 1989 brett and hardwicke, who had supported him with boundless patience, were on their knees. brett took a short holiday but had to be rushed home and hospitalized: the treatments for his bipolar disorder and his heart condition had clashed."
i strongly recommend reading edward's later comments of his difficulties with jeremy during the show: link here
October 1989: two months later, jeremy has yet again changed his mind on continuing as sherlock holmes
November 1989: philip purser how d a r e you say that about my beloved watson. of course, it's from the daily mail, so his opinion doesn't matter.
December 1989: granada undergoes major changes. the conservative government was actively attacking the british media and coming after their budgets. after ousting all of the original leaders of granada's sherlock holmes, the new priorites were based off of ratings and profitability. "you must always remember that your business is to form the market as well as to supply it, [otherwise] your career will have succeeded only in restraining the arts, tarnishing the virtues, and throwing confusion into the manners of your contemporaries." -a granada staffer to the new leaders of the show
January 1990: jeremy finally feels stable in the role, but i think without that dance with "the dark side of the moon" he felt like he lost a key element in his portrayal of holmes. even though he had always been terrified of that instabiity.
end of part 1, so here's part two!
#sherlock holmes#jeremy brett#granada#granada holmes#long post#scuttlebutt from the spermaceti press#peter blau#edward hardwicke#linda pritchard#granada meta#june wyndham-davies#michael cox#part 1#bipolar#mental illness#original post
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House of Leaves: Zampanò & fire
Throughout House of Leaves, details of Zampanò’s life bleed into the text, even when he is writing something completely separated. Johnny attempts to preserve these parts, in order to keep the dead man’s legacy alive in a way. But the parts where he literally bleeds onto his pages are in Chapter XI with the Jacob and Esau passages. It is reported from one of Zampanò’s readers that he attempted to tear apart and destroy weeks worth of writing about the story, resulting in bloody scraps being all we have left of the second half of that chapter.
On page 35, where Zampanò is asked if he had children and he says “not anymore.” This is the cornerstone of my theory. That Zampanó had two sons, represented by Will Navidson and Tom, or Jacob and Esau respectively. Though chapter 11 spends a bit of time discussing which is which, footnote 377 on page 396 all but confirms what I said prior. “Here then Jacob loses Esau and finds he is nothing without him.” (Referring to Tom’s death)
In the book we learn that Navidson served in the war in Vietnam, this is a small point but I think it’s important to suggest that the house itself may be a metaphor for war. Great emphasis is put onto the fact that the house itself becomes an “outpost,” and terms reserved for war are applied to it. Navidson was not expected to return from the house after the rescue but he did. Though what soon follows cannot be described with any word, except for turmoil. Here my metaphor sort of loses its exactness. I’m not really sure what happened to Zampanò’s Tom. My theory is it was a fire.
Fire is a motif used in the Navidson Record, but I can’t exactly put my finger on what it means. Navy literally burning the pages of House of Leaves during the climax seems significant in a way (Page 465). As well as at the end, it is reported that one witness of The Navidson Record in theaters tried to burn the house down but it did not catch flame. (Page 550, Exhibit C) The magnesium flares, the matches, the chemical heat packs, fire being one of the only sources of warmth within the ashen hallways. Ashen. That’s one of the only words used to describe the texture of the walls. That detail seems so deliberate to me. Food for thought. Also, see Appendix 3/Page 660.
To me, Johnny contains bits of both Navidson and Tom. Tom’s humor, drug habits, and wit, and Navy’s obsessiveness, devotion, and compulsion. Do note Zampanó’s diary entry on September 21st, 1970. “Perhaps in the margins of darkness, I could create a son who is not missing; who lives beyond even my own imagination and inventions; whose lusts, stupidities, and strengths carry him farther than even he or I can anticipate; who sees the world for what it is…” (page 543) September 21st is exactly 9 months before June 21st. What is June 21st? Johnny’s birthday. (Page 503)
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Wow what else is new I’m thinking about the a OrangeJuiceVerse again and Not Writing the completely unrelated story I’m working on ANYWAY!!!
OJV Stan is the ACTUAL sweetest boy on the planet and I WANNA TALK ABOUT HIS SOBRIETY!!!
Tw for alcoholism so it’s below the cut
I know I’m annoying abt ojv Stan’s sobriety, but it’s really, really important to me. I may have started the OrangeJuiceVerse because I saw this art of basketball Kyle and mascot Stan, but Broken Bottles From Apartment 2 is what actually solidified that au as an ongoing thing, and Stan’s sobriety is a cornerstone of that story.
As referenced in the aforementioned story, Stan stopped drinking at 25, and why? Because one day, a week or so after Kyle’s birthday, Stan had been off work and had been pulling from his secret bottle all day, and Kyle’s blood sugar hit a low. So Stan went to make him a KMBS (introduced here) BUT he was way drunker than he thought he was, and forgot how many ice cubes go in, and it hit him that if he was forgetting things like that, the drinking was a real problem.
Y’all it was SO bad Stan literally collapsed on the floor crying and Kyle’s like “dude dude WHAT what the fuck is it” meanwhile his dexcom is beeping and he fully forgot to eat at lunch bc work was busy so he’s also not doing well Stan is like “KY I DONT REMEMBER” they’re on the floor beside the fridge and Kyle is yanking it open and they’re sharing a bottle of Gatorade and Stan finally just spills EVERYTHING about how scared he is of his drinking habits, how like “yeah I know I’ll have a couple beers at night but it’s MORE than that” and Kyle is mentally REELING bc he didn’t think it was this bad, Stan is sobbing, Kyle is trying not to, Moose is curling his tiny cat body on Stan’s lap, they are all LITERALLY on the kitchen floor it’s the most heartbreaking scene you’ve ever witnessed.
And that night, Stan swears off alcohol. He dumps his vodka down the sink. He calls out of work and rides out the withdrawals over the next few days. A very freaked out Kyle is also calling out of his job to take care of him and he’s fucking terrified the whole time. But when Stan’s on the other side of the physical part? The self loathing tries to take him.
Kyle is fucking BEGGING him to go see one of his therapist friends, but Stan won’t do that, so Kyle’s like “okay it’s either that or we’re going to AA” and Stan picks AA bc even though he hates the idea of it (he went with his dad once when he was 9 and Randy Jackass Marsh got a dui) it feel less daunting than therapy.
And Stan winds up LOVING AA. Everyone at the local chapter is super chill. Ky goes with him the first few times, someone brought their dog, and this old man came up to him at the end, and they talked long after everyone had left Ye Olde Meetin Hall. Stan found his people in this group, despite being one of the youngest there, and that community is really important in his life. When he found out a few of them did an annual camping trip, that’s what really sold him on the whole thing.
So OrangeJuiceVerse Tweek comes into the picture abt 2 years after Stan stops drinking, and THAT was the thing that made me write BBFA2. Stan is THE support group king in the later OJV, and he just wants to help everyone, he’s Tweek’s sponsor, when they hit meetings it’s so kickass fuck I love them. The old geezers at the group are so fucking funny too, Tweek was terrified but stan told them they gotta chill out before he brought twerk.
Moose regularly comes to meetings and is a huge hit, they do a Birthday Night potluck every month (stan gets made fun of for not eating meat), and there’s not a single actually judgemental person there. Like Stan and Tweek are both in long term relationships with other men, and they’re in assfucknowhere Colorado, but the ONE homophobic asshole got put in his place REAL fast by everyone else there. When Tweek showed some people a pic of his husband the middle aged lady beside him at the table was like DAMN SWEETIE that’s one handsome man! Lmfao I gotta write a snippet of the ojverse aa group.
Stan and his sponsor RULE the group!!! They both have this charismatic energy and the old guy (his name is mark) is actually so cool, Stan may have been skeptical abt aa at first, but later down the line he’s showing up super early to hang with Mark and he’s greeting newcomers
Dude I’m crying abt Support Group King Staniel again
#bruh#this was completely unprompted but#STAN#MY BOY!!!#I fucking love OJV Stan#south park#lmm voice: look at my son#my shit#no one asked#but#headcanon#tw alcohol#THE aa king#OrangeJuiceVerse
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Tagged by @clottedcreamfudge, the bounder, because she knows I have a lot on this year and I’m pretty excited about it.
A fic idea you want to write (or read): So BFF Josefin and I swap fics twice a year for Christmas and birthdays. I’m excited to read my Christmas one (which she swears she has almost finished but her record is two years late, so, you know) because I specifically wanted a fic that was inspired by those dreadful DeviantArt manips of a pale girl with poker-straight black hair and a dark prom dress superimposed onto a picture of a gothic cathedral. I have an idea for a crime novel this year too about a quiz show, so we’ll see how that plays out.
A place you want to go: I’m hopeful I’ll feel safe enough for international travel this year! We’re thinking maybe France. Honeymoon-wise, we want to go to Iceland but maybe not straight after the wedding because that’s November.
A book you want to read: I want to read more Agatha Christie right now, we’ve rediscovered Suchet as Poirot on ITVx and it’s just lovely to sink into hideous murders.
Something fun you want to do: Design my library! We’ve literally just had an offer on a house accepted and there is enough room that I can have a library office. My fiancé bought me one of those green banking lamps for Christmas and that’s going to be the cornerstone of my new desk. And my parents will be so glad I’m finally shifting the thousands of books from their home to mine. Moving from a 2-bed to a 4- or 5-bed is going to mean SO much more storage!
Something you want to make: I am hopefully going to make my bouquet with fake flowers and a lot of help from @clottedcreamfudge, and potentially the wedding favours, but also I love miniatures and maybe I can start building the one I got in 2021.
A habit you want to start: “Resetting”, or tidying up last thing at night so you don’t have to deal with everything in the morning, and also moving more, which leads me onto my next thing…
Something new you want to try: Rollerskating or barre! Before lockdown I started doing adult ballet and loved it. It was really hard but I felt good afterwards. Hopefully covid will have calmed down enough I feel safe to do a class without a mask on.
Something you want to finish from 2022: House purchase and wedding planning! Mostly because although they are fun they are also expensive and draining! (Just need to get the rings, my shoes, the super secret surprise, and figure out what is planned for my hen do)
Something you want to keep doing: Not sleeping at night due to brain business/revenge procrastination/The Anxiety. (Last night I was up til 2.30am and I’m 32, I can’t deal with this like I’m 19 anymore).
Oh shit tags. Okay. I tag @hawkelf and @roxisangel and @combeferret and @frxworker8
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Bestie give me 1 and 5
hi lyn, thanks for the ask <3
i'm late as always lol
this is an ask for this ask game (thank past me for writing things down)
(adding a cut because i got carried away with all the lore)
1 - What are the common theories about the universe? (Fate, free will, what’s out there? Gods?)
i'm going to answer for all my wips because i can and you can't stop me
In Cor Vitae, it's thought that the world was created by their three goddesses (one for each moon they have). At first, everything was infused with magic (vitae, life). Then, one of the goddesses, Ehud, grew power-hungry and started to using life in ways which it shouldn't be used. She created monsters, and was banished for it. Now, monsters roam the sea and whatever is beyond the mountains that split the continent.
project:nemesis is very easy to talk about. no gods, no fate. just science.
in Púlsar, the people of Ila don't think much about how the universe at large began, only how the island turned from a barren place to a place fueled by magic. the general knowledge is that Zaeaf wanted the people of the island dead so he could swallow it, but then Ila came, gave them creators, and blessed the island. There were myths about why the sky turns and things like that too, but most have been lost since the énna came to the island. the only fate khithi believe in is that they know they'll return to the island once they die.
énna, on the other hand, left their religion behind when they arrived at the island (not that they cared much for it to begin with). nowadays, the faith is mostly dead. no one really believes except the khithi at the outskirts (it's literally the only thing they have left.)
in UP, fate rules everything. prophets see into the future and tell the world what will happen. religion is the cornerstone of civilization, the one thing holding humanity together after empires fell when the lost souls starting the war against the living. apart from this, they are not very concerned about the how and why of their universe, even if it defines every single thing that happens to them.
there's fate, of course, and free will, technically. only that whatever you do, your destiny will be fulfilled as the priests and priestesses foresaw. then there's the whole matter of time being circular (which no one's aware of except from Sorrow and Ely).
finally, in tales from beyond, think what it's like today, only that folk tales are taken much more seriously. people are way more superstitious. the veil between the supernatural and ourselves is much thinner, even if people aren't totally aware of it. so yeah, arion learns about the solar system and the big bang in school and then goes off to play with ghosts and his fae brother in the woods
5 - What traditions do they have? Festivals, celebrations, holidays, etc.
in CV, there's festivals just before the floods and after, as well as harvest. every few years the moons synchronize with each other and there's a big holiday to celebrate it. they also celebrate Ehud's banishment (once a year her moon is the only visible one in the sky). each village has their own little festivals in honor of the spirits that inhabit the woods near them, or a river, hill, etcetera.
in p:n they have Ástral Day, in honor of the man that created the project. then there's winter break, summer holidays, and such.
in Púlsar, years before the story begins, there used to be a lot of festivals in honor of the gods: what Ila did for the khithi, countless ceremonies to keep her blessing, celebrations at Zaeaf's defeat. nowadays, nothing remains of that. the only holiday there is is the arrival to the énna to the island, and usually the birthdays of the royal family.
finally, in UP, there's the yearly reading of the messiah's prophecy. discoveries of priests and priestesses are also celebrated when they occur, and also each time a new page gets added to what they see in the future. there's also festivities for the harvest.
all of these are very lowkey, tho, because of the war. Lyric's choosing was the only actual big event that got really celebrated by everyone everywhere.
#ask game#writblr ask game#vsnr cv lore#vsnr púlsar lore#vsnr up lore#vsnr p:n lore#vsnr tfb lore#everyone gets lore
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1. what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?
* My time working as a camp counselor at a place I no longer would feel comfortable showing my face because it was run by conservative Christians (thank god I escaped that, wish I had recognized it sooner). I certainly have mixed feelings now about the Bible portions of that (I don't think I directly peddled the hate at all? But I also was definitely not free of it at the time.)
But the rest really influenced who I am quite strongly. It pretty directly led to a big transition for me from being someone who needed structure to feel comfortable to being happy with winging it as we go (ideally within some known constraints, but still). Huge general improvement in social skills. Made me a much better guitar player. Got me a bit too comfortable with speaking in front of large groups and doing silly things that embarrass myself as long as it's making others happy. And also taught me various skills (archery, canoeing, axe throwing, how to run a ropes course, how to keep 9 year olds from panicking when they're stuck in the bathrooms for an hour straight because that was our tornado shelter).
But the biggest impact was probably the way it made me feel loved and included and truly a member of the community. I have spent the majority of my life being one of those people on the outskirts of groups, a part of it that everybody knows and loves and that's it. They don't actually get to know me or talk to me outside of the group and I never form those deep lasting connections. But the particular combination of relationship of friends/coworkers/sorta trauma bonding over the rough bits and spending literally all the time in this group of 20 people for 2 weeks of training before we started having campers and the way that I would spend a week working very closely with one person in particular, really helped me to feel loved. To a degree that I really haven't seen in many spaces since.
(Now of course that was just a feeling and didn't actually carry into reality for various reasons. Among them the fact that I am awful at staying in touch/communicating and the bonds weren't as deep as they felt and also the whole thing where a majority of the people disapproved of who I have realized myself to be.)
* Being trans. It's influenced .. everything. From the way that I always felt more drawn to the girls in my class to the way that I felt weird and gross and insufficient to actually be friends with them and have left myself in a state where I am very much a hug person and also missed all the learning process for the signs of when someone wants one/is open to it and have an incredibly deep fear of being too forward and seems as weird or creepy so I never initiate and end up completely touch starved. And it's not just hugs, that's just a symptom that's easy to point to. And then the years of drifting through life because I could tell there was something missing but couldn't figure out how to fill it. So I threw myself headfirst into academics which worked for a while (until I flunked out of my PhD program) and then various games and church and books and music and even sports and so on and nothing ever really kept me going. (The undiagnosed ADHD very much did not help this, to be fair.)
But it's definitely not all bad! The fact that I figured out that I'm a girl pretty late in life (started hrt on my 30th birthday, which was <1year since I had admitted to myself even that I was trans) has given me a lot of opportunities in figuring out who I am and what my style is and such that at a younger age I just wouldn't have had the time/resources/awareness of myself/the world to do. Granted I definitely haven't taken full advantage of them... And the way I've been forced to figure myself out has helped me embrace some new things I've been wanting to try, like dancing which has somehow become an absolute cornerstone of my life/stability in the 4 months I've been doing it! And like friends tried to drag me into it in college but I simply did not have the social confidence to enjoy it.
Uhhhh, ya, it's shaped me but I am definitely not one of those girls who embraces it and finds her life better for having been trans. I hope I get there someday.
* Theatre! Joined the tech crew on a whim in high school (tangent: I very nearly did not. I had been interested and then completely missed the message and was barely able to join. And then we had a huge class so I wasn't part of the run crew for my first show which really threw me off as a freshman and so I almost quit forever until my parents talked me into going back for the spring show because I had really enjoyed it up til that point.) It turned into a fantastic group of people to spend time with and really taught me the joys of physical work and of being a cog in a machine to make something greater happen. And the pains of when it goes wrong and someone blames you even though it wasn't your fault. Or if it was.
And then in college the bit I did gave me a great way to meet people outside of my norm. And connections I made through it led to the job I'm at now. And the community theatre I have found myself a part of has a very strange place in my life because it's a bunch of extremely talented people who love me for both who I am and my attitude and my skills, but also we once again hit the "never talk to me beyond it" problem. (Dammit me I hate myself so much for missing the chance to change that by going to the ren faire with a few of them, but such is life. There's always more chances ahead.)
2. show us a picture of your handwriting?
God no. It's awful and embarrassing. (Fine I will but in the morning because I'm sleepy and don't want to find paper.)
8. any reacquiring dreams?
Not particularly lately. There have been a few throughout my life.
When I was very young there was a specific one where I was in a campground gift shop holding my treasured baby teal (like baby blue but green tinted) baby blanket (real blanket) and then something started chasing me and I had to run through the woods and then the slow motion running thing happened and it was awful and I was never actually caught but I would usually drop my blanket and then it would be put into some kind of horrible steampunk crushing abomination that tore it to shreds. No idea if it ever had a real conclusion.
Then of course all the trans ones. Those came in a few main variants:
* primarily in high school was some sort of fantasy in which I was able to swap bodies with a classmate through some mystical mechanism or another. Dream portals that let us try it for a day, random chance, genie granting a wish, god randomly deciding to bless us, god "cursing" us for arrogance and making us prove ourselves in different lives, whatever
* also mostly in high school was the different world sort. Like a VR space where we could just go play board games with friends all night long while bodies are resting, and since the avatar could be whatever why not a girl? (and of course they magically accept me doing that and it's fine.) Or in youth group we have a contest where I lay down and become a sand sculpture and then friends mold me to be the fastest mermaid or whatever and then I unsand and have to race (conveniently of course these are always feminine forms)
* many many dreams about going back to that camp I worked at but as a girl (both counselor and camper)
* in college I had one about how cool it would be if I were a girl and were roommates with another girl (often recurring ones I may have had a crush on) and then for reasons decided to save space by sleeping in the same bed, but because they were bunked and small we better be sure we don't fall off by being in a single pair of athletic shorts together and holding each other close all night. These were surprisingly not explicit for how extremely horny
* and some more weirdly detached dreams in which I was, like, inhabiting a house or whatever and simply watching the lives of people go by. And then I could hop on board to someone and watch their life for a while and then leave and go back to watching wherever they were at the time. Somehow this always seemed like a delightful thing to hope would happen to me, whereas nowadays it sounds like the premise to horror that leaves me scarred
#trans#oh my god how have i rambled for this long#i really hope you enjoy this sabrina because nobody else is going to actually read it#tldr - trauma from being an undersocialized trans girl that I'm slowly starting to fix
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What is Keystone? Exploring KEYSTONE Multifaceted Significance Across Various Domains
In the realm of words and concepts, few carry as much weight and multifaceted significance as "keystone." Traditionally anchored in architecture, its meaning has transcended physical structures, weaving its way into the very fabric of ecology, geography, industry, and even branding. This broad spectrum of applications makes keystone not just a term but a symbol of fundamental importance and interconnectedness in various domains. Welcome to "What is Keystone," your one-stop shop for everything keystone-related. Whether you're an arch enthusiast, a wildlife aficionado, or just someone who enjoys a good beer with a snazzy name, we've got something for you. Think of this as a magical mystery tour through the world of keystones—a journey where we peel back the layers and uncover the hidden gems (and stones) that make the world go 'round. From the arches that define skylines to the species that sustain ecosystems, and from serene mountain resorts to innovative commercial brands, we're diving headfirst into the essence of keystone. Picture us as your quirky tour guides, armed with a treasure trove of meticulous research and engaging stories. We'll take you through the architectural marvels where keystones hold everything together (literally), introduce you to keystone species that keep nature in balance, whisk you away to the picturesque Keystone Resort in Colorado, and even sip on some Keystone Beer while exploring how the term has become a hallmark of quality and innovation in various industries. So, buckle up and get ready to laugh, learn, and maybe even fall in love with keystones. Whether you're a curious soul, a lifelong learner, or an explorer at heart, "What is Keystone" promises to be your go-to resource for understanding the profound impact of keystones across different landscapes. Let's embark on this enlightening journey together, one keystone at a time! What does keystone mean Architecture: The Cornerstone of Ingenuity In the architectural realm, the keystone is celebrated as the crowning piece of an arch, a wedge-shaped stone at the apex that locks all other stones into position. This central element not only bears the weight but also stabilizes the structure, allowing the arch to span open spaces with grace and strength. The architectural keystone symbolizes the ingenious design and engineering principles that have enabled civilizations to build enduring monuments and edifices. Imagine ancient Roman architects scratching their heads, pondering how to create those magnificent arches that could hold up entire aqueducts. Then, someone shouts, "Eureka! We need a keystone!" This clever piece of rock sits at the top of the arch, bearing the weight of the entire structure like a boss. Without the keystone, those grand arches would collapse faster than a Jenga tower at a birthday party. It’s the unsung hero of architecture, proving that sometimes, it’s the little things that hold everything together. Fast forward to the Gothic cathedrals of medieval Europe, where the keystone continued to play a starring role. These architects didn't just use any old stone; they often adorned the keystone with intricate carvings, transforming it into a focal point of artistic beauty. It's like giving your ceiling fan a dazzling chandelier—it supports the room and looks fabulous doing it. The keystone, quite literally, holds the key to some of history's most stunning architectural feats. Biology: Keystone Species and Ecosystem Balance Shifting our focus to biology, the term “keystone species” refers to organisms that play an irreplaceable role in maintaining the structure of an ecological community. These species influence the types and numbers of other species in a habitat, helping to sustain the ecosystem’s balance. Their presence or absence can dramatically alter the ecological landscape, highlighting the intricate web of life and the importance of biodiversity conservation. Picture a sea otter in a kelp forest, munching away on sea urchins. Seems like a simple snack, right? But hold on—this furry little critter is doing more than just having lunch. By keeping sea urchin populations in check, otters prevent these spiky creatures from devouring all the kelp. Without otters, the kelp forests would disappear, and with them, the myriad of species that call these underwater jungles home. It’s like pulling the plug on a bathtub full of biodiversity. Then there are the African elephants, the bulldozers of the savanna. They knock down trees, creating open spaces for grasses to grow. These grassy patches become grazing grounds for a host of herbivores, which in turn attract predators. The whole ecosystem dances to the beat of the elephant's drum. Remove the elephant, and you’ve got a very different, less dynamic landscape. Keystone species are nature's way of keeping the party balanced and lively, ensuring that every guest—from the smallest insect to the largest predator—has a role to play. Geography: Keystone Resort – A Jewel in Colorado’s Crown In the geographic context, Keystone is synonymous with the Keystone Resort in Summit County, Colorado, USA. This community is a haven for nature lovers and adventure enthusiasts, offering breathtaking landscapes and a plethora of outdoor activities. From skiing and snowboarding in the winter to hiking and mountain biking in the summer, Keystone Resort encapsulates the beauty and spirit of the Rocky Mountains, providing a perfect escape into nature’s embrace. Imagine a place where the snow is always powdery, the trails are always pristine, and the mountains beckon you to play. Welcome to Keystone Resort, Colorado's very own slice of outdoor heaven. Winter transforms this landscape into a skier's paradise, with slopes that cater to everyone from the bunny slope beginners to the black diamond daredevils. And let’s not forget the après-ski—because nothing says “I conquered the mountain” like a hot cocoa by the fire. When the snow melts, Keystone doesn't just sit around twiddling its thumbs. The summer months bring a whole new set of adventures. Hiking trails wind through lush forests, offering panoramic views that are worth every step. Mountain bikers zoom down trails that twist and turn like a rollercoaster. It’s a year-round playground for nature enthusiasts, where every season brings a new way to fall in love with the great outdoors. Keystone Resort is not just a destination; it's an experience, a love letter to the Rocky Mountains that keeps on giving. Industry and Branding: Diverse Applications of the Keystone Concept The versatility of the term “keystone” extends into the commercial sphere, where it names various companies and brands across industries. Keystone RV stands as a leading manufacturer of recreational vehicles, offering freedom and adventure to those eager to explore the open road. In the realm of beverages, Keystone Beer represents a popular brand known for its quality and refreshment. Additionally, the vaping industry has embraced the term Keystone Vape, signifying innovation and pleasure in the vaping experience. Think of Keystone RVs as the Swiss Army knives of the travel world. These rolling homes come packed with everything you need to explore the open road in style and comfort. Whether you're a weekend warrior or a full-time nomad, Keystone RVs provide the perfect blend of convenience and adventure. It’s like having your cake and eating it too—except your cake has wheels and a really comfy bed. Now, let's talk about Keystone Beer. This brew is more than just a beverage; it’s a staple at tailgates, BBQs, and weekend get-togethers. Known for its smooth taste and refreshing quality, Keystone Beer has earned its place in the hearts (and fridges) of beer lovers everywhere. It’s the trusty friend you can always count on to turn a good time into a great one. And in the ever-evolving world of vaping, Keystone Vape has carved out a niche for itself. Founded by a team of designers, engineers, and artists, Keystone Vape emphasizes product details and user experience. Their meticulous approach ensures that each puff delivers not just satisfaction but a statement of style and quality. It’s vaping elevated to an art form, proving that sometimes, the smallest details can make the biggest impact. “What is Keystone”—The Purpose and Vision "What is Keystone" stands as a beacon for those seeking to understand the multifaceted nature of the term that permeates diverse fields and contexts. It's a platform where the curious mind can dive deep into the essence of Keystone, exploring its pivotal role in architecture, its critical presence in ecology, its scenic embodiment in geography, and its versatile application in industry and branding. This dedicated space is designed to kindle curiosity, drawing in readers with a thirst for knowledge and an appetite for discovery. As a comprehensive resource, it offers a wellspring of information, bringing to light the intricate ways in which Keystone influences our world, from the structural integrity of ancient arches to the ecological balance maintained by certain species. The vision behind "What is Keystone" is to weave a detailed and engaging narrative that captivates and educates its audience. By presenting a rich collection of stories, analyses, and insights, the platform aims to illuminate the profound impact of Keystone across various domains. Whether it's through the detailed examination of architectural marvels, the exploration of ecological dynamics, the showcasing of breathtaking landscapes, or the insight into brand identities, "What is Keystone" endeavors to provide a holistic understanding of the term's significance. In doing so, it not only enriches the knowledge of its readers but also fosters a deeper appreciation for the interconnectedness and complexity of the world we inhabit. Think of "What is Keystone" as your personal guide on a quest to uncover the hidden treasures of the world. We’re not just here to drop some knowledge bombs—we’re here to make the journey fun and engaging. Picture us as a mix between your favorite teacher and a witty travel guide, always ready with an interesting fact or a humorous anecdote to keep you entertained. So, why does keystone matter? Imagine a world where arches collapse, ecosystems crumble, and your favorite mountain resort doesn’t exist. Sounds pretty bleak, right? That’s because keystones, in their various forms, play a vital role in holding everything together. Our mission is to highlight these crucial elements, making the complex seem simple and the mundane appear magical. At "What is Keystone," we believe that learning should be an adventure. Whether you’re marveling at the engineering genius of ancient architects, discovering the delicate balance maintained by keystone species, or exploring the latest trends in industry and branding, we’re here to guide you every step of the way. Our goal is to create a space where knowledge meets curiosity, where each visit feels like a new chapter in an exciting book. Join us on this journey as we explore the many faces of keystone, and prepare to see the world in a whole new light. Because at the end of the day, understanding the keystones of our world helps us appreciate the bigger picture—and that’s a story worth telling. Meet the Dynamic Team Behind "What is Keystone" The success and depth of "What is Keystone" can be traced back to the dynamic synergy of a dedicated team, each member bringing unique skills and passion to the table. Allen – The Researcher Extraordinaire Allen, the intrepid researcher, dives deep into the reservoirs of information, drawing from a variety of sources to gather comprehensive data about Keystone in all its forms. His meticulous approach to research lays the foundation for the platform, ensuring that the content not only covers a wide spectrum but is also grounded in accuracy and relevance. Picture Allen as an information spelunker, exploring the vast caves of knowledge to bring you the most valuable gems. Roisin – The Master Storyteller Roisin, our talented editor, plays a critical role in shaping the narrative of "What is Keystone." With a keen sense of storytelling, she weaves Allen's extensive research into compelling stories that captivate and educate the audience. Her ability to distill complex information into engaging and digestible content makes the journey through the Keystone landscape not just an educational endeavor but a delightful exploration. Roisin’s editorial finesse ensures that the essence of Keystone is communicated with clarity and creativity, inviting readers to delve deeper into the subject. Think of Roisin as the wordsmith who turns dry data into enchanting tales. Lori – The Tech Whiz Behind the scenes, Lori, our tech whiz, is the technological anchor of the platform, ensuring that "What is Keystone" is accessible and user-friendly. Her expertise in managing the digital infrastructure allows for a seamless experience for visitors, from navigating through the site to accessing the rich content curated by her colleagues. Lori's dedication to operational excellence ensures that the valuable insights about Keystone are available to a global audience. Imagine Lori as the digital wizard, casting spells to keep everything running smoothly. Together, Allen, Roisin, and Lori form a cohesive team that brings the intricate world of Keystone to life, offering a comprehensive and engaging portal for enthusiasts and curious minds alike. Each member’s unique contributions create a dynamic and effective team, dedicated to unraveling the multifaceted concept of Keystone for a global audience. Conclusion "What is Keystone" is an insightful platform dedicated to exploring the multifaceted significance of the term "keystone" across various domains. The platform delves into its pivotal role in architecture as the central stone of an arch, its critical presence in ecology through keystone species that maintain ecosystem balance, its scenic embodiment in geography with Keystone Resort in Colorado, and its versatile application in industry and branding. The team behind "What is Keystone" consists of Allen, the meticulous researcher; Roisin, the master storyteller; and Lori, the tech whiz. Together, they weave detailed and engaging narratives, providing a comprehensive resource that captivates and educates readers about the profound impact of keystones across different landscapes. Through meticulous research and engaging storytelling, "What is Keystone" aims to kindle curiosity and foster a deeper appreciation for the interconnectedness and complexity of the world we inhabit. Read the full article
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Politics and Voting Graphic 37 Visit https://www.billkochman.com/Graphics-Library/ to see more. "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. … Let it simply be asked: Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation deserts the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice." -- George Washington, 1st US President, 1789 to 1797, Founding Father "The general principles on which the Fathers achieved independence were the general principles of Christianity." -- John Adams, 2nd US President, 1797-1801 "Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are of the gift of God, [and] that they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed, I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just: that his justice cannot sleep forever." -- Thomas Jefferson, 3rd US President, 1801-1805, author of the Declaration of Independence "The only true basis of all government [are] the laws of God and nature. For government is an ordinance of Heaven, designed by the all-benevolent Creator" -- Samuel Adams, Statesman, political philosopher, Founding Father "The birthday of the nation is indissolubly linked with the birthday of the Savior. The Declaration of Independence laid the cornerstone of human government upon the first precepts of Christianity." -- John Quincy Adams, 6th US President, 1825 to 1829 "In regard to this Great Book, I have but to say, it is the best gift God has given to man. All the good the Savior gave to the world was communicated through this book. But for it, we could not know right from wrong. All things most desirable for man’s welfare, here and hereafter, are to be found portrayed in it." -- Abraham Lincoln, 16th US President, 1861 to 1865 "Now, the best religion the world has ever had is the religion of Christ. A man or a community adopting it is virtuous, prosperous, and happy. … What a great mistake is made by him who does not support the religion of the Bible!" -- Rutherford B. Hayes, 19th US President, 1877-1881 "I assume the arduous and responsible duties of president of the United States, relying upon the support of my countrymen and invoking the guidance of Almighty God. Our faith teaches that there is no safer reliance than upon the God of our fathers, who has so singularly favored the American people in every national trial and who will not forsake us so long as we obey his commandments and walk humbly in his footsteps." -- William McKinley, 25th US President, 1897 to 1901 "The teachings of the Bible are so interwoven and entwined with our whole civic and social life that it would be literally -- I do not mean figuratively, I mean literally -- impossible for us to figure to ourselves what that life would be if these teachings were removed. We would lose almost all the standards by which we now judge both public and private morals; all the standards toward which we, with more or less of resolution, strive to raise ourselves." -- Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President, 1901 to 1909 "The same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe -- the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state but from the hand of God." -- John F. Kennedy, 35th US President, 1961 to 1963 https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/politics-and-voting-graphic-37/?feed_id=144220&Politics%20and%20Voting%20Graphic%2037
#All_Posts#Bills_Graphics#america#articles#bible#bible_study#bill_kochman#bills_bible_basics#campaign#christian#election#foundation#kjv#political#politician#politics#scriptures#verses#vote#voting
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OMG ALINE BIRTH!!!! happy birthday literal icon cornerstone of the community etc etc i hope u have the best day MWAH 💕💞💖💘
thank u ilyyy 🤭💓🤭💓🤭
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rubs my hands together. marcy facetiming anne and sasha to show them their new room post amphibia. 500+ go
The telltale intro to a popular donghua rings its beginning notes on Anne’s nightstand, and she lunges for the phone with an easy, practiced motion.
“Marbles!” she’s yelling, not even one second after picking up the call. “Hi! How are you doing? Are you settling in? How’s the new room? Is the traffic less intense over there?”
“Anna Banana!” Marcy’s shouting back, giggling. “Slow down! Sash isn’t even on the call yet! I’ll tell you guys everything, I promise, but you gotta relax!”
“You haven’t called in sooo long, Mar-Mar, ‘course I’m not gonna relax!” Anne retorts, sticking out her tongue at the camera. “Plus, you know Sasha likes hearing your ringtone music as much as he pretends not to know where it’s from, so he’s probably just letting it ring. I caught him watching an episode yesterday at lunch and he practically leaped off of the picnic bench to hide the evidence.”
Marcy giggles again and props their phone up on their desk so that their friends will have a better view of their room. “I just called you two last Friday, Annie. And it’s a good show, I don’t know what he’s so afraid of.”
Before Anne can reply, a noise sounds from both of their screens, and the split screen splits once more to fit Sasha into the frame. His face is lightly sweated out from his fencing class, but he’s smiling, making a kissy face at the camera.
“Hey nerds!” he greets, blowing kisses. Both of them blow some back. “Talking about me?”
“Oh yeah, just you and your hidden adoration for the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation franchise,” Anne teases, watching his face flush red.
“Well,” he sputters, “You’d like it too if you watched! Marce has great recommendations!”
“It’s on my watchlist,” Anne grins. “And they really do.”
“Aw, you guys,” Marcy swoons, placing a hand over their heart. “You’re too sweet to me! If you’re all free next week, what would you say to having a little watch party after our finals?”
“We’d love that,” Anne nods vehemently, and Sasha joins her in agreement.
“Marcy, you got me hooked on this franchise, I’m serious,” he says. “Literally what did they put in these characters? The soundtrack? The plot? The love story between the main leads? Oh my frog.”
“Right?! I could write essays on— Hey, you guys are distracting me!” Marcy whines. “We’ve got a room tour on the agenda today, remember? You’re the ones who wanted to see it!”
Sasha sits up on his bed, placing his phone on his pillow and clapping his hands in enthusiasm. “Ooh, yeah! Show us, Mar-Mar! Please tell me you kept the duckling plush me and Anne got you for your 10th birthday, Mr. Quack is a childhood cornerstone.”
“He really put a dent in our shared allowances,” Anne snorts. “Totally worth it, though.”
“Who do you guys think I am?” Marcy says, swiveling the camera around so they can see the other side now. Smack in the middle of their green and ivory sheets and assortment of other stuffed animals sits Mr. Quack, far less fluffy than he used to be, but well-loved all the same. “Sometimes I think he takes up more space on this bed than I do.”
“And so the king reigns!” Sasha crows, setting the three of them off into another bout of laughter. “Long live Mr. Quack and his legacy!”
Marcy gasps, then: “Oh my frog, speaking of legacies—”
They turn the camera quickly to the other corner of their room, showing off the somehow perfectly organized mess on their desk, with multicoloured pens and open sketchbooks, as well as a drawing tablet hooked up to their computer. Tucked safely in the corner is a little model of Newtopia, with two statues propped outside.
“No way,” Anne gapes, squinting at the screen to get a better look. “You made mini models of Lady Olivia and General Yunan? They’re so tiny! How?!”
“Mars has the talent for it,” Sasha chimes in, also awestruck by the attention to detail. Everything is carved neatly into the clay, and both statuettes are adorned with matching necklaces, which Marcy had explained to them previously were their version of human wedding rings.
“Yeah,” Marcy smiles shyly, blushing. “I just wanted to honour them, y’know? They were so kind to me in Amphibia, and I didn’t really get to spend as much time with them as I wanted to, so I thought why not dedicate something to them here?”
“They’d love it,” Anne says. “They loved you, Marbles.”
“And so do we,” Sasha adds warmly. Suddenly, his eyes go wide, noticing something else in their room, and Anne shifts her attention to look too. “Hold up, is that your redecorated fandom merchandise shelf?”
Marcy grins, bouncing on their heels in excitement. “Oh, you two have a big storm coming.”
#my writing#juicing our brains 😱#amphibia#marcy wu#anne boonchuy#sasha waybright#calamity trio#me when i post this past midnight. oops#also for people unfamiliar with the term: donghua basically is chinese animated shows!#dong = moving hua = picture donghua= moving picture#this was actually just an excuse for me to promote mdzs. hope this helps
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THE HOOKER W/ A HEART OF GOLD
INSPO | PLAYLIST
{ Kristine Froseth, 20, cisgender female, she/her } Is that RHIANNON FALLA ? A SOPHOMORE originally from BAR HARBOR, MAINE, they decided to come to Ogden College to study MUSIC on a FINANCIAL SCHOLARSHIP. They’re THE HOOKER WITH A HEART OF GOLD on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.
the basics
name: rhiannon indigo falla.
age: twenty.
birthday & zodiac: february 27th. pisces sun. libra moon. sagittarius rising. pisces mercury. pisces venus. aries mars.
gender: cisgender woman.
sexuality: bisexual.
the surface
faceclaim: kristine froseth.
height: 5′9 ft.
weight:115 lbs.
style: ridiculously short crop tops. oversized hoodies & sweatshirts. ripped stockings and fishnets. fitted cardigans. flowy dresses and maxi skirts. shoes ranging from mules to wedges to doc martens. think grunge lil shirt big pants girl, but also with delicate, cottagecore elegance sprinkled in. lots of bright red. white, blacks, greys. natural spring colored for her more dainty pieces. blush pink, olive, baby blue.
distinguishing features: dreamy eyes, faint horizontal cheekbone scar, lotsa tattoos, messy & unruly hair.
tropes: THE HOOKER WITH A HEART OF GOLD, the idealist, the naïve everygirl, the love freak, the pollyanna, the true pacifist, the stupid good, the fool, the cute clumsy girl, the rebellious spirit, the ethical slut, the girl in the tower.
occupation: student. escort.
status: help me im poor.
the depths
personality: cheerful, excitable, giving, affectionate, worrisome, manipulative, ditzy, needy, fickle, flighty, elusive, insincere, pushy, moody, loving, romantic, dreamy, inspired, passionate, dishonest, irresponsible, reckless, bubbly, self-absorbed, insecure choosing to live amongst the clouds, rhiannon coasts on her natural charisma and easygoing nature. she is a fun-loving, thrill-seeking type that strongly values her independence. she has deeply instilled morals which she abides by, although her beliefs are considered quite radical. rhiannon is an active pacifist, practicing vegetarian, and meditation guru. while she may seem unbothered on the surface, rhia struggles to find adequate balance in her life. when it comes to what she’s interested in, she may become obsessive and overly idealistic. she suffers from issues with codependency, often tying her self worth too heavily into the opinions of those she values. rhiannon has passion and a magnanimous vision for her projects, but she lacks the discipline and confidence to follow through with her plans. often times, her crippling periods of self doubt are cast off as her peaceful demeanor. she is inauthentic, hiding imperfect sides of herself to appeal to whomever she is attempting to impress. however, her imagination and spontaneity are cornerstones for her character. the base of what she shows the public is inauthentic, a face fabricated to appeal to the nature of the other’s attraction. rhia is more keen than she more let on, strategically highlighting admirable traits while concealing the negative. she is observant in matters that she’s curious in, though most of her interest is spontaneous and emotion-driven. she suffers from an internalized inferiority complex, one that she doesn’t readily make noticeable or concerning, but it is ultimately a driving motivation in most of her actions. she is self-critical and undisciplined, a lethal combo for such a fragile soul. rhiannon is secretive, never forthcoming with her desires or her intentions, though she has a tendency to be overly trusting in untrustworthy individuals. rhia is self-centered and indulgent, though she would never dare admit so, nor allow for herself to be viewed in such a light.
mbti: enfp. extraverted. intuitive. feeling. prospecting.
alingment: chaotic good.
hogwarts house: hufflepuff.
hobbies: playing literally almost every instrument including, but not limited to: piano, guitar, bass, drums, violin, flute, tambourine, ukulele. gardening, yoga/meditation, writing, dance, tarot, modelling.
history: kristoffer and acacia gaia met on the weekend of a drug-fueled musical festival on the west coast of the united states. kristoffer was immediately swept back the irreverent, fierce spirit of acacia, a well-bred but notoriously irresponsible socialite with a chip on her shoulder. she let the younger gentlemen dote and treat her for the duration of the festival, though she hadn’t expected him to ask her to leave for an impulsive roadtrip getaway in his clunky van. considering she was on poor terms with the rest of her immediate family, acacia agreed and the two disappeared on a month-long romantic getaway across northern europe. eventually, kristoffer invited acacia to join his van life on the road. a few years later, the two married, despite acacia's hesitation to give into the societal expectations of women of her status. she grew up with an abundance of privilege and acclaim, though her fierce energy was never efficiently utilized anywhere. acacia constantly cut ties with people and places she grew bored of, yet it was the humble and passive, tortured artist that won her faithfulness and affection. she was content with her simple life with kristoffer off the grid, free from her social and familial responsibilities, while still being revered and idolized. acacia never wanted children, claiming the contemporary woman's desire for one simply stemmed from her submission to biological and sexist standards. she had taken many preventive measures to ensure she would never have children, all of which were hidden under kristoffer's nose. when rhia was conceived, acacia went two and a half months before realizing her afflictions were morning sickness and hormonal changes. she fell into a deep depression, convinced this was the world's punishment for her occasional adultery and drinking problem. kristoffer was ecstatic, on the other hand, as he always envisioned having a large, thriving family, but he had stuck by acacia's side regardless of her "infertility". acacia struggled to stop drinking after the discovery, though she was largely unconcerned, as she was already planning an appointment to prevent the pregnancy from continuing. however, her new lifestyle did not bring in much income, and thus she was forced to confide in her younger sister for help (and a loan). acacia formulated some grandiose story about kristoffer's desperate need for rehab, and while her sister, ingrid, met and disapproved of kristoffer, she held enough attachment for her sister to agree to give her the money. however, ingrid made an unannounced visit to acacia's residence a few weeks later, and became belligerent upon being greeted by her sister's gentle-natured - and mostly sober - husband. it was only after being caught in the lie that acacia was forthright with her plan, though she had already spent the bulk of the money before scheduling a doctor's appointment. ingrid vowed to cut off all ties with acacia from then on, fed up with her manipulation and guilt tactics. the revelation caused a strain between acacia and kristoffer, both of whom had invested too much to simply walk away from their relationship. so, they compromised, they would continue their life like normal, but kristoffer made his wife swear to let her pregnancy carry to full term. thus, rhia has born seven months later, and was instantly adored and coddled by her father. around rhia's fifth birthday, kristoffer reached out to his wife's sister and her new husband, inviting them both over to meet rhia. the two would drop by infrequently, leaving gifts and knick-knacks for their kind-eyed niece. on her eigthth birthday, she received her first instrument, a small, maple violin. rhia excelled in the music program in her community, though most of the other studying was left neglected. she was raised in a van for the early years of her life, accompanying acacia and kristoffer cross-country as they vowed to sight-see every state and collect a unique souvenir from each and every one. as she came of the age to attend school, kristoffer insisted they trade in their rusty van for a trailer, and the happy, little family settled down into bar habor to try to build a semblance of a normal family life. she grew in the close-knit community, often frequenting the piers of bar harbor, though much too flighty of a child to ever venture into the waters. she developed a fondness for nature, living in the middle of a prairie that would burst with life come the summer solstice and wind down for the summer. she adopted her father’s gentleness and her mother’s lust for life, though her soft spirit and peculiar interests led her to be outcast by the small community she lived in. as a social pariah, she was only motivated to become likable and as a result began seeking things she knew would earn her approval. she quickly became wrapped up with the wrong crowds, resorting to partying and molding and pampering herself to get where she wanted. at the age of sixteen, rhia was scouted by an older woman named ava. the other proposed rhia weaponize her beauty, she offered rhia an easy money-maker. the young girl had been naive enough to see this as an authentic act, and while she recognized the dangers of her decision, the payoff was far too significant for her to pass up. a few days later, rhia was accompanying the older girl on her nights out, flaunting her fake i.d. and flirting with men completely out of her age range. eventually, rhia began to establish a loyal, but demanding clientele. she saved the bulk of the money from her night job, keeping it a secret from her parents as she prepared for college acceptances. at the end of her senior year, after having been awarded a scholarship to ogden, rhia packed her bag and booked it to the other side of the country. she has only reached out to her family a handful of times since then, against her better judgement.
the connections
relationship to greer: frenemy? bully? aspiration? rhia and greer existed on opposite ends of the social food chain, with rhia kicking it with the local delinquents and class potheads and greer leading the beautiful yet lethal head of ogden’s most elite. she existed mostly under the radar, her social circles never crossed greer’s unless they were at the quad or some random frat party. still, rhia admired the queen of ogden from afar, equal parts envious as she was in awe of the blonde girl. she lived the life rhia had always dreamed of, a life of pure admiration and power... it was all the brunette really sought after. however, after the school gossip exposed rhia’s night life as a call girl, she caught the wrong sort of attention from greer. the other girl went out of her way to poke fun at rhia, being cruel and condescending almost as a form of stress relief, though rhia had never been taught to stick up for herself. in fact, the harsh treatment was strangely reminiscent of the affection her mother showed her, and thus rhia found herself not only accepting it, but encouraging it. there was one similarity the girls’ shared; their incessant need for partying. happy to people please, rhia eagerly offered her party goods to greer and found praise in the quality of the products she provided. one day, upon an especially wild night accompanying greer on her night out, the other turned to her and held her face close, examining her features as if it was rhia’s own scrutinizing reflection staring back at her. “you know if you learned to put makeup on properly, you could possibly pass as pretty....” so, rhia pleaded with greer to teach her, to mentor her into being one of the pretty, popular girls she’d watched in all her 90s rom-coms. she never truly understood greer’s motivation in saying yes, but in the last few months leading up to greer’s disappearance, rhia had found herself under the girl’s extensive wing, slowly transforming from punk chic to pop princess. the question is: what did greer truly provide rhia? consensual degradation or unconventional empowerment?
friends: nate shaw - best friend, aurora grady, leo taylor, valentin howe.
enemies: tbd
romantic interests: nate shaw - skinny love. jesse hart - the toxic entanglement. alex ross - the ex who was lead on.
wanted connections: toxic entanglement/ex, BESTIES, ex-flings, exes on good terms, ex-friends, drifted apart, fake friends.
the education
school year: sophomore
major: music
minor: dance
extracurricular: cheerleading tumbler, ballet company, dance club, animal rights coalition, orchestra (violin).
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Object Permanence prompt idea: literally anything involving Mingjue + the baby
this has been in my mind rent-free for months
***
A photo sits framed on the mantelpiece. A little boy with a great, dimpling smile, blowing out the sparkling number four candle of his astronaut birthday cake.
“Was that the doorbell?”
“Yes-- I’ll get it.”
A photo sits framed on the mantelpiece. It’s smaller than the other, the size of a polaroid. A father looks down at the top of his seven month old son’s head, in the middle of telling him a quiet story. He hadn’t noticed the camera. They share the same dimples.
“Baba-- can I get it? Can I get it?”
“On this occasion, yes.”
A photo sits framed on the mantelpiece. The boy’s other father carries him on his shoulders at Disney world. Their smiles are different, but the affection for the person taking the photo is clear in both of their eyes.
“I’ll get it!”
“Can I get it with him, shufu?”
“Can I answer the door?” “Let’s answer it together!”
“This isn’t your house, dummy!”
“OK-- baby, don’t run down the stairs--”
“I’ve got it-- oh, hi shufu!”
Meng Yao is in the middle of an excruciating conversation with Wei Wuxian (most of them are) when the doorbell rings. He’s really rather relieved to move from the kitchen to the hall, cradling a glass of homemade lemonade and ignoring Wei Wuxian’s muted complaints.
“I don’t want to talk to Lan Zhan about it. What if he isn’t ready? I mean, one kid is tiring enough and...”
“Communication is the cornerstone of any relationship,” Meng Yao returns with a smile.
“Oh, as if you can lecture me on that-- hi, da-ge.”
Three little boys open the door to reveal Nie Mingjue. The first little boy clings onto him in an enormous hug. The second one whoops and starts dancing and striking rock-star poses. The third starts running circles around him.
A-Xing, A-Ling, and A-Yuan. They make quite a trio. Meng Yao supposes that being friends practically from birth will do quite a lot to solidify a friendship.
“Da-ge.”
“We’re done,” Nie Mingjue says gruffly.
“You knew the door was unlocked,” Meng Yao replies. “You could have come straight in.”
Nie Mingjue allows the boys to poke him and clamber over him. Jin Ling is trying to push him into the house, hands against his back and sneakers scuffing on the front doorstep uselessly. “Xichen is just finishing up. And I didn’t want to tread in sawdust and mud. You nearly lobotomized me for that last week.”
“Wait-- finishing up what? What’s shufu finishing up?”
“I told you! The dads are trying to organise a surprise party for A-Xing.”
“LingLing, you probably shouldn’t have…”
“It’s ok, A-Yuan, I’d figured it out already. Uncle Wei Wuxian was all awkward and weird about it today.”
Meng Yao observes this conversation. The three boys crane their necks to view the two parents. Meng Yao then turns his cool gaze to Wei Wuxian, who’s rubbing the back of his neck.
“Aha… what was I supposed to do? He’s inherited your puppy dog eyes and he was asking me all these questions and I-- didn’t know what to do. I didn’t tell him anything! Just, yeah. Was weird and awkward. Stop glaring, what was I meant to do?”
“Lie,” Meng Yao replies easily. “You lie to children.”
“Hey!”
“He doesn’t mean it.”
“No. He does. Baba says white-lies are the cornerstones of relationships.”
Looking at Meng Yao with mock horror. “Oh does he now?”
Meng Yao clears his throat and clicks his fingernails against his glass. “I believe you said Lan Xichen was ready for us?”
Nie Mingjue purses his lips and quirks his brows: yep.
“Uncle Mingjue! Shufu-- why are you so dusty?” Nie Mingjue is uncle to everyone despite bearing no family relation to any of the children. Jin Ling continues to push him by the back as they walk outside to the front lawn. “What’s this dusty stuff?”
“Sawdust.” Lan Yuan skips ahead. “Sawdust. From saws.”
“Is sawdust wood?” Cheng Xing asks contemplatively. “Can you have sawdust if it isn’t wood?”
A very good question, as most of A-Xing’s questions are. Meng Yao walks behind the boys, Wei Wuxian slinking sheepishly by his side. “Perhaps that’s something we can look up later when we go back inside.”
“Wait--”
A-Xing stops. He looks at Nie Mingjue with a gently baffled look that is absolutely inherited from Lan Xichen, regardless of the lack of Lan genetics. “Why are we going through the gate to the back garden?”
Nie Mingjue folds his arms and hums conspiratorially. (Jin Ling pokes his bicep with a furrowed brow.) “Well. Your dads have worked very hard to keep that a surprise.”
Meng Yao clears his throat politely-- a slight intended for Wei Wuxian, who covers his face in shame.
“I didn’t tell him, I promise,” he says behind his hands. “It’ll still be a surprise.”
At this moment, Meng Yao measures the confusion on his son’s face turning to amusement. A-Xing has inherited all the good traits from Lan Xichen. (Then again, does he have any bad ones?) He is handling this air of mystery without any concern or anxiety. Whilst Meng Yao abhors surprises, A-Xing adores them. He trusts his parents, Meng Yao realises.
Stepping over to his son, Meng Yao offers his hand. It’s getting a bit embarrassing for A-Xing to be holding his fathers’ hands, but neither of them care right now, in front of family. “Let’s go take a look together. Maybe Nie Mingjue’s just playing a particularly cruel prank on you.”
A-Xing beams up at him and laughs. “This is so weird. You’re so weird.”
“I am so weird,” Meng Yao agrees.
They step through the little private alleyway beside the house and into the back garden. So far, there is nothing new to see; the monkey puzzle tree that the boys like to climb, which A-Xing fell from last year and fractured his wrist in the process; the peony bed at the end of the lawn; the little, carved wooden sign for the pet hamster who passed away last year; the Frisbee that’s been collecting water for about two weeks now, and that Meng Yao hasn’t moved because it’s turned into a bird-bath and Lan Xichen likes has gone mushy over this.
“Where’s dad?” A-Xing asks, swinging their arms between them.
“Ah, well--” Wei Wuxian adds mystical hand gestures, “perhaps we should explore a little further and solve that particular mystery?”
A-Yuan beams. He runs over to his father and hugs him. Lan Yuan is a very affectionate child, far more than A-Xing of A-Ling. The other boys have known him long enough that they don’t find it unusual. Wei Wuxian, to this day, still appears a little tearful whenever he receives an impromptu hug.
“You’re weird, too,” A-Yuan mutters into Wei Wuxian’s stomach.
They venture to the end of the garden. Wei Wuxian makes a show of peering over the fence with a hand shielding his eyes.
Nie Mingjue climbs over the style. “Are you following or not?” he demands of Wei Wuxian.
“Ooooo! What could possibly be in there? Hmm? What could possibly be in the little patch of woods between A-Xing and A-Yuan’s houses?”
“The little patch of woods that A-Yao spent an awful lot of money and time blackmailing the estate agents into selling to me for half price,” Meng Yao mutters to himself.
“Oh look. Could I possibly see your dad in the near distance, A-Xing?”
A-Xing is already climbing over the style. A-Yuan is clambering over the fence, offering a hand to A-Ling who swats it away with a scowl. Meng Yao watches the three children gambol into the woods. Nie Mingjue follows at a slow saunter, brushing his hands on his jeans.
“This is going to blow their tiny minds,” Meng Yao says.
Wei Wuxian whistles. “It really is.”
Cheng Xing is a little shorter than both Jin Ling and Lan Yuan. Nonetheless, he sprints ahead, and his two friends flank him. And there-- Meng Yao spots his partner crouched in the leaves, packing away the toolbox and stretching his shoulders. He’s been working all afternoon with da-ge, tanned and limber in a white tshirt.
“WOAH!”
“Is that--?”
“TREEHOUSE! TREEHOUSE! IS IT OUR TREEHOUSE? IS IT MY TREEHOUSE? CAN WE GO IN?”
“DID YOU MAKE THIS?”
“HOW DO WE GET UP? LOOK, A LADDER!”
“THIS IS SO COOL--”
Jin Ling is clambering up the ladder. A-Yuan tugs him gently by the t-shirt and tells him to get down since it’s technically a birthday present for A-Xing, not him, and he should be the one to go up first. But A-Xing is hugging his dad with ferociously tight little arms, and Lan Xichen is laughing quietly to himself, stroking the top of his head.
“You should thank shufu, too. He built most of it.” He gives Meng Yao a small smile, the smile that still melts him even now, eight years later. “I held up lots of heavy planks of wood.”
“So impressive,” Meng Yao grins. He kisses his boyfriend on the cheek. “Very impressive. Isn’t baba impressive?”
“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank youthankyouthankyouthank--” A-Xing hugs Nie Mingjue, who smirks. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthank--”
“Why don’t you go and try it out,” Lan Xichen says.
The boys scrabble up the ladder. A-Yuan is a little older than the other two, and whilst he never abuses this authority, A-Xing and A-Ling treat him with the respect of a wise elder. They therefore listen to A-Yuan’s words of caution climbing the tree, advice about watching their footing and not going too quickly.
The four men at the bottom of the tree peer up at the platform three metres above. It’s shrouded in leaves, branches, a lovingly carved roof (trademark Nie Designs) and fairylights. The boys are babbling in hushed, awed tones, interspersed with laughter and childish squeals.
“I think this was a good choice,” Lan Xichen remarks a little dreamily. Meng Yao lays his head on his shoulder and feels it rise and fall with his sigh. “This is going to make them happy for years.”
“You know when they’re teenagers they’re going to use it as their sordid den,” Wei Wuxian says. “Like, they’re going to go there to like, talk about girls or boys or both or neither and like, make low, grunting caveman noises about how much they hate us.”
“Well. They’ll need a safe place to do such a thing,” Meng Yao admits.
Nie Mingjue grumbles. “Without you running into A-Xing’s room, swatting him with a broom or your shoe at the slightest hint of hormones.”
Lan Xichen laughs.
Meng Yao stares at them all. They’re all laughing.
“I would never,” he argues. Peering up at Lan Xichen with wide, imploring eyes. “You know I would never.”
“Of course not, love.” Lan Xichen plants a consolatory kiss on his forehead. “We just know that you’re very protective of our son.”
“Of course I am. Of course I’m protective. Gege, why are you laughing? Do you think I’m such a bad father, gege?”
Nie Mingjue pinches his nose. Wei Wuxian is cackling.
“No, A-Yao. You’re the best father in the world, and A-Xing knows it.”
“He’s referring to the fact that you tried to get a child expelled for kicking over his mud-pie in nursery.”
“And if they’d let me on the board of governors, justice would have been served.” There’s also the fact that he admitted to Lan Xichen, face buried in his chest, that he doesn’t want A-Xing to be a smelly teenager. He’d wept. Proper, sobbing cries. Is it awful that Meng Yao wants him to be wide-eyed and adorable forever and ever, and if Meng Yao knows that no one will ever be good enough for their son and-- and how is he meant to let some snotty-nosed teenager take him to the cinema or a terrible fast-food restaurant on a first date?
Lan Xichen had said his distress was both understandable and endearing. Thing is, Meng Yao is only partially putting it on. He really is heartbroken by how fast A-Xing is growing.
The three boys erupt into laughter from the treehouse.
“I want another baby.”
Meng Yao says it before any coherent thoughts go through his head and have a chance to wrangle the sentence back into its box. Wei Wuxian gasps. Nie Mingjue looks genuinely shocked.
Lan Xichen shifts beside Meng Yao and looks at him with parted lips.
“I’m sorry?” he croaks.
This time, he knows exactly what he’s saying. He looks Lan Xichen dead on and says in his most business-like, I’m-putting-my-foot-down voice: “I want another baby.”
The birds sing overhead. The boys laugh in the treehouse, out of sight. Meng Yao’s friends stare, open-mouthed. He looks at Lan Xichen and waits.
Lan Xichen smiles.
#my writing#xiyao#jgy#lxc#lan xichen#jin guangyao#meng yao#Object Permanence Prompts#mdzs#the untamed
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last call
mugen x reader
for my darling leese, who holds a special place in my heart. the mugen to my jin, the prawns to my shrimp, the weese to my gorge, the cornerstone of the ot3 - happy birthday. you deserve everything in the world and more.
p.s. pls watch sam champ if you haven’t already
for weese’s birthday bash discord collab: masterlist here!
cw: this fic is 18+, smut, swearing, violence, drinking
tagging: @rat-suki, @bakatenshii, @mindninjax, @yukiimanic, @theygottheircages, @blahkugo, @sanguinekeigo
He’s come through your village twice now, actually.
He always brings pointless violence. And his barbaric personality.
And his unending stupidity.
He’s never been here this late, though. You were about to close up when he came through the door - with a slight limp, maybe?
“Can I get a drink?” he asks you, sitting in the same barstool he always does, stretching over the back of the chair lazily. You hear his spine pop - once, twice.
You suck at your teeth, roll your eyes. “Pay me for the last time you were here and maybe I’ll pour you some sake.”
He brings his body forward again, slams his hands down on the bartop. His head and neck follow last and he faces you, eyes dark under his thick mane of hair, chin jutted out in almost child-like defiance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he coos, but the toothy grin plastered on his face says otherwise.
You groan, gripping the wood on your side of the bar, knuckles white with frustration. Your eyes flick over to the sword strapped across his back. He’s watching you, watching your movements, tracing the path of your gaze. When you settle back on his face, you notice the cuts and bruises.
You admit to yourself that perhaps his violence wasn’t actually pointless, and perhaps he wasn’t so barbaric. This tornado of a man only comes through your village when he’s needed - when violent crimes are on the rise and he can make some quick money by snuffing out the perpetrators.
Maybe he doesn’t live a completely moral life, but you can’t deny that you feel like you owe him some gratitude for the ways in which he’s helped your people.
You know that he knows he’s already won, and you let out a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine, Mugen, but just one or two drinks and then I’m closing up.”
“Hey, that’s my girl.” He winks, and you don’t know if it’s the flirting or the deep rasp of his voice that sets your cheeks on fire.
You pour two glasses of sake and hold yours up to him. “Cheers,” you mumble. He clinks his glass with your and you both sip in silence. You run a cleaning rag over the bartop and count the day’s profits.
He finishes his first drink and you pour him another. “That’s the last one,” you tell him. “I have to wake up early tomorrow so I need you to get out.”
“You can just lock me in here for the night, baby.” He holds his arms out, eyebrows raised.
You scoff, shaking your head, but you smile. “No, Mugen.” You jut your chin out at him, just the way he’d done to you before. “Finish up. I wanna go home.”
“I wanna go home,” he mocks your tone, sticks out his tongue, but reaches into his pocket to pull out a few silver pieces. He holds them in the palm of his hand, open for you to take.
You eye him suspiciously, and then take the pieces out of his hand. Your fingers graze against his palm. It’s warm, calloused. You pause when you see the blue tattoos lining his wrists. You want to reach out with your fingers and trace the lines, wondering if the inked skin feels different.
But you don’t; instead, you take the money and put it away with the rest of the day’s cash.
Mugen downs the rest of his drink in one go, and when you’re finished cleaning the glass, he stands up and yawns, scratching at his neck. You grab your bag and shawl and you walk out of the bar together.
“Let me walk you home,” Mugen mumbles as you’re locking the door.
You shake your head, wave him off. “It’s a short walk, I’ll be fine.”
Despite your protests, he follows you anyways, and you eventually (begrudgingly) allow him to walk alongside you.
“Where are you going to go next?” you ask, glancing up at him. He towers over you, at least a foot and half taller. You feel small next to him, and for some reason that pleases you.
Mugen shrugs. “Heard there’s some pirates a few towns over. Might go check that out.”
“Don’t you ever get scared?” You know you’re just inflating his ego now, but you like to see him smile.
“‘Course not, babe.” He grins, drapes an arm around your shoulder. “I’m the best there is.” Then he stops walking.
Abruptly, he swings you into a nearby alley. Your back hits the wall and you’re about to scream in alarm when his large hand comes to cover your mouth, the other cradling the back of your head so it doesn’t slam against the wood behind you.
You should be scared, but being so close to him sends a wave of heat rippling through your body. Your back arches away from the wall and you grip his arms, digging your fingernails into his skin and groaning.
“Shut up,” he whispers in your ear, which earns him a look of incredulity from you. “We’re being followed,” he continues, and you stop moving immediately. “Looks like I missed one of those bastards.” He finally removes his hands from your face. “Stay here,” he instructs you, “and don’t make a sound.”
He reaches behind him, gripping the hilt of his sword, and runs back into the street, silent as the night. You clap your hands over your mouth and screw your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing. Your heart thunders in your chest and you try to listen for any sign of Mugen or the man who was following you.
When your breathing slows, you brush your fingertips against your lips, where his hands had just been. Thinking about the pressure of his hand on your mouth makes you squirm, rubbing your legs together and you don’t know why, this is ridiculous, you’re literally being followed by a psychopath and all you can think about is wanting to-
Footsteps come closer and you recognize the sound of wooden sandals on dirt. You breathe a sigh of relief and crane your head towards the street, waiting for Mugen to give you an all clear.
But it’s not Mugen who rounds the corner - it’s a man you don’t recognize. Your blood runs cold and you back up a few steps, looking around frantically for an out, but the alley is a dead end and oh fuck he’s got a knife.
“Don’t come closer,” you stammer, hands balling into fists.
The man doesn’t reply, just continues advancing, and you keep backing up until you hit the back wall of the alley. He grins and you whimper, shutting your eyes, and wait for the blade to come down.
The sound of the blade moving through skin makes you grit your teeth, but you don’t feel any pain. Am I dying? You carefully open one eye and the man is still standing before you, arm raised.
His knife falls out of his hand and clatters on the ground. Only then do you see the end of Mugen’s sword sticking through his chest. You let out a sound that’s something between a laugh and a groan, and the man finally falls over.
“My bad, didn’t mean for you to have to see that,” Mugen says nonchalantly, pulling his sword ungracefully out of the man’s body. “So, where’s your-”
“You shut up.” You grab him by his shirt and pull him towards you, your lips crashing clumsily on his.
He’s struck dumb for a moment, and then remembers himself and kisses you back earnestly, hands roaming over your body and coming to rest at the small of your back. You reach up, weaving your fingers through his hair, and then you give a light tug.
Mugen breaks away from away, letting out a small moan. “Took you long enough to-”
“I said shut up,” you cut him off, annoyed, “don’t ruin it.”
He smirks, and then his hands ghost over your ass before picking you up by your thighs and lifting you up, resting your back against the wall. Your legs wrap around his torso, and he pushes himself against you. You can feel the bulge in his pants brushing against your core.
“You liked this earlier, didn’t you?” he whispers devilishly in your ear. You swallow hard and let out a shaky breath, eyes rolling back. “You like it when I’m rough with you?” he leaves sloppy kisses and bites on your throat.
You focus your vision again, see the dead man in the corner of your eye, and it jolts you back to your senses. Something dark in you takes over and you pull Mugen away from your neck by his hair.
“I like it when you kill for me.” you purr.
And then something comes alive in both of you, like a switch had been flipped.
His hand grips your throat and he thrusts against you again and you whine. “I would kill anyone for you,” he says gruffly, almost feral.
You grab the fabric of his shirt and ball it in your fists as he pulls down your shirt to expose your breasts and then buries his face in them, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin near your nipples.
Slowly you lower your feet to the ground and regain your balance. Then your hand reaches down to cup his dick, now straining against the fabric of his pants. He groans into your chest.
You bite your lip. “Let me repay you,” you whisper, words coated with lust, “for saving my life.” You run your fingers along his arms, his chest, as you bring yourself down to your knees. You pull down his pants enough just to expose his cock, and lick one long stripe from the base all the way up to his head.
“Shit.” Mugen inhales sharply and uses one hand to brace himself against the wall. The other is tangled in your hair.
You look up at him through your lashes before taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. Your head bobs along his length rhythmically and every now and then he thrusts into you, causing you to gag.
You can tell he likes that part the best.
When he’s near his limit, he pulls himself out of your mouth and hoists you up. “Wanna cum inside you,” he mumbles.
“My house is only a few doors down,” you reply, adjusting your kimono.
You leave the dead man lying in the alley.
-
You’re already halfway undressed when Mugen throws you down on your bed and crawls over you, trapping your head between his arms. The bright blue tattoos on his wrists catch your eye again, and this time you do trace the ink on his skin. With your tongue. He watches you carefully, then dips one, two fingers in your mouth and you suck obediently. He tastes salty and earthy, not as bad as you would have thought.
"Little whore," he mumbles, and you bite down on his fingers in retaliation, which makes him laugh.
Mugen undresses himself and then helps you take off the rest of your clothing, exposing your entire body to him. He kisses your lips, your breasts, before moving down your stomach and settling between your thighs. Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of yourself spread out before him.
“You seem like you’ve had some experience,” he jokes, and your cheeks burn hotter. “I have, too.”
You bite on the fleshy part of your palm to muffle yourself when he lays his tongue flat against your cunt, and then starts lapping against your clit. You can feel the mixture of your wetness and his juices running down your slit before he gathers some up and adds a few fingers pumping in and out of your hole.
Your hand does little to quiet your moans as you get closer to your climax, and Mugen can tell - his finger fucking gets faster and he groans against your cunt. “Gonna cum for me?” he takes his mouth of your pussy for a moment to ask you the question.
“Don’t stop-” you nearly shriek, crying out in frustration. You’re so close; Mugen grins and finally continues to lap at your clit, and you pull at your own hair, run your hands over your body, ghost your fingers over your nipples and pinch -
In seconds, your orgasm crashes over you, and you’re delirious, mumbling yes, Mugen, yesyesyes, Mugen, incoherently. He takes such delight in the way your legs shake, and he laughs while he overstimulates your clit, watching you squirm to get away from the intense sensation.
“Did that feel good?” he teases you as he crawls on top of you again, pumping himself a few times. You nod weakly and then he’s at your entrance, gently gliding his dick along your slick folds.
Then he sheathes himself inside you.
The stretching pain subsides and then he’s ramming into you while you desperately try to regain your senses. You feel like an animal, pinned underneath him, and yet you want to get closer, you want him to consume you completely.
“More,” you choke out, “harder.”
He flips you over and fucks you from behind, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours is absolutely delicious. He grabs your hair and pulls, and the pain makes your eyes roll into the back of your skull in ecstasy. He hits your sweet spot over and over, and your legs start to shake again as you get close to your second orgasm. Mugen holds on tightly to your hips, using them as leverage to bury himself deeper inside you.
"You gonna cum on my cock, baby?"
You whimper and reach your hand back, finding his wrist and grasping it tightly in response.
"Good girl.” His voice is dark, laced with lust, and you think about how strong he is, how many people he’s killed, that he could end you in a second if he wanted to.
And that's it for you.
You shove your face into your pillow and grip at your sheets when you cum, Mugen’s pace unrelenting throughout your high. When you come down, the emotions of the night hit you and suddenly you’re crying and it bewilders you.
Mugen pulls you all the way up so that your back is flush against his chest, and he catches a glimpse of your tear-stained face in a mirror placed in the corner of your room. “Fuck,” he hisses; the sight of your perfect face ruined by him is going straight to his dick.
He sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck and you feel him shudder. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finishes inside you, and you both collapse on the bed.
“So,” he says while you both lay there panting, “I don't really have anywhere to go… can I stay here for the night?”
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Update on TTB’s obsession with me and a quick explainer of why I’m so... exhausted tonight.
It started with this dude (I originally wrote a different word but then I remembered what really gets under her skin) sending me the above email on Christmas Day. Now I don’t celebrate it but for why? Did she have nothing better to do? Literally nothing better to do than send me my government’s brochures from 2014 on Jesus’s birthday? Poor Jesus. That’s so disrespectful to him. And also it’s sad for her. Btw it’s actually a very helpful brochure it taught me two important things: 1) sexting is bad and 2) TTB is cyberbullying me. These were useful facts I guess. Don’t sext, kids. It’s bad. My government told me so it’s true. (It actually is true if you’re literal kids, again, read the brochure it’s v helpful). Thanks TTB for educating us this way! Now we know! KWEEN SHIT.
Having learned these two valuable pieces of information from the government brochure, and having imbibed, I - despite being confused as to why she chose to continue speaking in the third person - decided to respond. And what did I say? Well, I was recently aware of how bad sexting and cyberbullying are so I said:
And what did she say in response?
Now let’s deal with the final claim first and then we’ll go back to how she plans on proving IN COURT that a Harry Potter reference on the internet is a legitimate death threat.
Publishing these emails is not breaching copyright. This falls under fair use. I am reporting on her, on this blog, because she is a menace and tbh a public figure (and also an anonymous entity like she’s not a person so her case is really tricky). She has no solid legal case against me. But, as my lawyer pointed out to me, if she does sue civilly she will go off anon and we look forward to going to court to discuss my Harry Potter references about an anonymous entity on Tumbles like that sounds iconic af and we’re now both looking forward to that. I’m sure a bunch of you nutcases will attend in the gallery for the sheer lulz that situation promises. It’ll be great.
I would also like to say I do not believe I am manipulating young people - I have never asked anything from young people except for asking for many many hot takes on Josh’s playlist from @agronshizzie. If that’s manipulation, sure, I guess I’m a manipulative bitch but that girl likes it. However, I have explicitly said I am not reporting her blog because it’s a lot of effort and don’t encourage anyone else to, and having said this in chats I’m now FORMALLY saying to anyone reading not to engage with her. She is dangerous and a proper bitch so I would advise to laugh, sure and mock, sure, but I wouldn’t advise engaging. If you choose to do anything that’s on you. And if you’re a minor you shouldn’t.
Finally I think it’s funny that even here she is bad at math. She says she sent me only one email but - prior to my response - I count two. The first one which I gave to @karliesbuzzcut to work her magic on and the second one which sits atop this post.
She’s right on one thing: I probably do need a healthier hobby but lowkey TTB it takes one to know one and I think you’re a cowboy like me because your hobby was literally making up wild ass shit about two blonde ladies and sending yourself riddles lol like mine is at least more diverse and interesting and not the cornerstone of my identity. Like if this blog gets taken from me I’m not going to respond by doxxing people I’ll just start being marginally more productive.
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