#my art stuff aside. truly how do u guys sit through That

[b4kuch1n]

thank you so much for sharing your process/lineart/and just in general. i've been watching your vods on youtube and it's rlly inspiring and satisfying to watch...godspeed!

it's no problem at all! and I'm very glad you enjoy the VODs haha, they're really the best way to see how I go about anything! including the pixel-pushing and repeatedly redrawing the same line lol

[chibioniyuri]

So, I wanted to share my current medical status with y’all, but only if you want to actively read it, so I’ll be throwing it behind a cut. Plus it’s pretty long. So there’s that.

So, I have a brain tumor.

Only, technically not. It’s within the skull but outside the dura mater, the protective membrane around your brain itself. So, technically not a brain tumor.

But let’s start from the beginning.

Starting around summer of last year, my grandmother was in and out of the hospital. Falling without being able to get up on her own, leading her to spend the entire night sitting on the floor waiting for someone to visit her because the phone was out of reach. Pneumonia extending her hospital stay. Getting home and refusing the home health care my uncle and aunt set up for her. Falling again. Repeat.

Around August-ish, my aunt was cleaning her apartment for her and found pain killers stashed all over the apartment. In bottles. Free pills on her walker. Next to the phone, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, stashed in both nightstands. Turns out she’d been asking nearly everyone who visited her to bring her bottles “because she was running low.” Including us. We could get large bottles of Excedrin from Sam’s Club for cheaper than were available in her country. We’d bring over two extra large bottles. We didn’t think anything of it; our visits were spaced roughly four years apart. But concurrently, some tests were showing the beginning stages of liver and kidney damage that could be caused by self-medicating in the way my grandmother was.

Cut to me. “Wa-oh,” says I.

For like two and a half years, that I could remember, I’d been having trouble sleeping. Beyond the normal, that is. Taking over an hour to fall asleep, sleeping roughly three hours at a time, eventually needing to take naps on my days off just to function safely on my work days. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was finishing school. Looking for a house. Moving back into my parents’ house so I wouldn’t have to break a lease when I finally found “the one.” Exposing myself back to my dad’s special brand of tough love. I figured it was just stress, and that it would go away when things were less hectic.

They didn’t.

Right around April of last year, my headaches starting spiking. Again, I didn’t think much of it. For most of my life, I’ve dealt with headaches. I’ve become a pro at the art of ignoring the headache away. But suddenly, I was having migraine-level headaches, frequently. I explained it away as lack of sleep. This was about a year and a half into the lack of sleep saga. It seemed reasonable to me. And I was more concerned about the nearly-falling-asleep-while-driving and the crying on the way to work and the endless feeling of “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

But these new headaches were debilitating. So... I started self-medicating. A lot.

I really should have been more aware; I mean, as a medical professional, there were so many red flags. But nothing like that could ever happen to me, right? I was just weak. Attention-grabbing. I just needed to suck it up and get back to work. My dad, after all, had never taken a sick day in twenty years, even if he was sick. He’d had some baaaad headaches, too, and he just powered through. I needed to do the same.

My grandmother was a wake-up call for me.

I finally convinced myself to do something about it September of last year. I thought it was just my thyroid. It controls so many things: your sleep cycle, your metabolism, your temperature regulation. My doctor initially agreed with me, and blood tests corroborated it. My thyroid hormone was low.

Something must have niggled at my doctor though, because she ordered more tests. Then more. First blood tests. I was stuck so many times, it was ridiculous. I counted 9 vials in one sitting, which.... personally, is a record. I can’t speak about the standard levels for anyone else. Then an ultrasound of my thyroid. Nothing too abnormal. Some nodules that were enlarged, but nothing alarming. An MRI of my brain. Just a precaution, she said. Some of my medical history meant that she wanted to fully rule some things out.

I had my MRI on a Wednesday. That Friday, her nurse called me. Said that my doctor wanted to talk to me about my results. That I should just name a time that day and she would make sure it was available.

Oh shit.

I called my mom. I remember thinking that I wasn’t reacting the way I thought someone who received bad news should. I was acting like I had a particularly juicy piece of gossip. Jovial, almost.

“Hey mom,” I said. “That thing I was joking about, back when she first mentioned the MRI? Tumors and cancer? The thing I said wouldn’t happen to me? Pretty sure she found it.”

“What?”

“Her nurse just called. Told me to name a time I can come in today. Whatever time, and it would be available. That only happens with bad news, right? She found it. Mom, I have a brain tumor.”

My mom told me that I had to hear the actual words from my doctor’s mouth before I could worry. And that if it was real, we would deal with it. And that I should call my dad so he could come with me.

So I did. He told me roughly the same thing, that I couldn’t be sure until the doctor said it herself. And that I should schedule it so my mom could go with me.

“I scheduled it for roughly an hour from now.”

“Oh. I guess your mom can’t go with you, then.”

No mention of him going. I was too afraid to ask.

I found out later that he had already started drinking and was too afraid that someone would figure it out. He’s the type of alcoholic that feels like, since he named himself an alcoholic, that’s it, kumbayah, crack open a cold one, but instinctively lies to medical professionals about his level of intake. He excused it away by saying he wasn’t really an emotionally supportive guy anyway, and he didn’t offer because he didn’t think I wanted him there. Plus, he said, he would’ve started crying and that’s not being emotionally supportive. I agree that he would’ve. I also think he fell into a mild depressive state because his employer declared bankruptcy and he was without the job he’d worked at since being honorably discharged from the military in 1995 and was having an identity crisis because so much of his personal identity is tied up into his work, and without it, he’s nothing. But you’re not here to read about my analysis of my dad.

So I sat alone in that room while my doctor told me I had a tumor on my pituitary gland. That it was pretty large and probably the cause of a lot of the lethargy and difficulty sleeping. That I should let her know if I start having headaches.

“I’ve got those,” I said.

“You didn’t mention it to me?”

“No. I mean, I’ve had them since puberty, really. They were more frequent, recently, but I thought it was the not sleeping thing.”

She made sure I walked out with a referral to the neurosurgeon in my hand and advised me to call him right away. Well, as soon as my insurance cleared.

Since October, I’ve struggled to feel it was real. I’ve sort of stepped aside from it, I guess. I’ve viewed it as one of those interesting case studies from nursing school. “Mary’s MRI results show a 2cm growth on her pituitary gland. Her growth hormone levels are __. She complains of headaches, lethargy, insomnia, and weight gain. What nursing diagnoses would apply to this case? What interventions would you consider implementing?”

I’ve analyzed my reactions and compared them to the stories I’ve read, fictional and anecdotal, about others dealing with serious medical issues and found myself lacking. I’ve thought of how I would write this situation. Definitely dread, I decided. Fear. Worry. A sense that suddenly, the world is crashing down around you. And alternately, a sort of freeing feeling. Suddenly, you can go out into the world and really live like it’s your last day.

And then I looked at my bank account. I looked at my insurance paperwork. I decided that I couldn’t afford the surgery to remove it until next year. Definitely couldn’t take the time off to process it. Gotta make that money, pay those bills.

“You’re so strong,” one of my fellow nurses tells me. I want to tell her I’m not. I’m just incredibly aware that I’m financially precarious and that I can’t afford anything else. And it’s so much easier to fall into routine and focus on caring for someone else. Avoidance at its best.

So why am I sharing this all of a sudden?

My surgery is in less than two weeks: April 4. And it’s definitely real now.

Suddenly, all that stuff that I imagined writing is happening to me. The closer that date crawls, the worse I feel. At first, it was mild concern. It’s approaching absolute terror now, though.

I’m about to let someone send some tools up my nose, poke around in my brain, and remove some bits of myself that have gone renegade. I’ll be in the ICU in case of complications. I’ll need someone with me for a while afterwards, when I finally get discharged. I have absolutely no idea how I’ll pay for it, considering my credit card has wracked up a truly impressive balance due to my car breaking down last year, and then all the lab work, diagnostic tests, and specialist visits, which let me tell you, are a special sort of expensive hell. Add on my mortgage and my student debts, and I squeak by every month. I’ll probably pick up a second job to help out with whatever costs I accrue.

One good thing about this is that my dad has stopped asking me “do you want mine?” when I mention I have a headache. But now he’s joking that I’ll be in the hospital for ages because, “I hate to say it like this, but you don’t do so well with the pain thing.” Fuck you.

The truly good thing: my brother got leave from the Air Force to come home for a week. We haven’t seen him since last July, when he came home for our it’s-been-four-years-time-to-go-to-Germany trip. I’m so happy about that, I could cry. I probably will before this whole thing is over.

So, there you go. The full update.

I’ll probably be typing more things up to work through this. Typing all this out has been oddly cathartic.

[runningwitches]

The Girl Who Cried Fanfic (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: When your family is desensitized to your screams, because they usually just meant you were reading a fluffy fanfiction, the hero you’ve been reading about is the one who saves you in a time of actual danger.

 Word Count: 3228 

Requested: Nope 

A/N: Second fic on tumblr ever, first ever Peter Parker. I had this idea when my friend told me that she screamed at the fluff in one of my other fics, but that nobody in her house came to check on her. Jokingly, I called her “the girl who cried fanfic” and well, the rest is history.

You lay in your bed late at night, the only one awake in your small New York apartment. As you scrolled through your Tumblr, you saw a new post from your favorite account, a superhero fan account that loved hearing about the shenanigans the Avengers got into. Clicking on it, you saw this one was about Spider-Man.

Weird, you thought. Spider-Man isn’t really well known outside of Queens. Maybe you knew the owner of this account.

Pushing your thoughts of confusion aside, you began to read the authors note. “Hey guys! Normally I don’t write about this kind of stuff, but there’s this cool new hero in my neighborhood called Spider-Man, and I thought I’d try to write something about him, instead of the usual Avengers stuff.”

You began to think of who it could be. A fellow super-fan in your very neighborhood. Maybe even in attendance of your school. Well, no use worrying about it right now, is there? I’ll see if I can find out more about her later. For now, I’ll visit my my favorite hero.

As you read the story, you noticed a lot of familiarities. I mean, obviously the author is going to write in generic terms, they never know who’s going to end up reading it, but it seemed more familiar than most of the fics you read. The way the school description fit yours, and the neighborhood seemed eerily similar to your own. You really must’ve at least seen this girl around.

But you swept the awkwardness of the familiarity aside and continued to enjoy the story, allowing the odd details to make it more believable for yourself. When it got to a cute part, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp of joy. Spider-Man just took his mask off because he loved you! It was so exciting that even though it was simply a story on your phone, you let out a scream. An. Actual. Scream.

Your parents came running in, thinking you were hurt or that someone had broken in, but that wasn’t the case. When they saw your sheepish smile, and the apologetic look in your eyes, they sighed and closed your door, walking away, annoyed.

Returning to your story you made a mental note to not do that again. You typically could hold your fangirling inside, whisper-screaming into your pillow, or kicking your legs around to hide the fact that you were dying inside, but for some reason the thought of Spider-Man, your local hero, and your personal crush, revealing himself to you made you lose all control of your reasoning, and you screamed anyways.

After finishing the story, you debated messaging the girl behind the account to see if you knew her, or if she had seen Spider-Man in person before. You sure had.

I mean, you didn’t mean to, I don’t think anybody really does when they first meet him. You were just lucky, I suppose.

You were sat on the roof of your building, trying to get away from it all. The stress of school eating at you day in and day out. Yeah, you went to a school for science and technology, Midtown School of Science and Technology to be exact, but you weren’t gifted in these subjects. STEM just wasn’t your thing. You were a history, English, art, and dance kinda girl, and those classes seemed almost completely neglected at this school for geniuses (because for some reason you’re only a genius if you’re smart in a STEM field). Anyways, the stress of the world was coming down around you, school and personal life issues keeping you constantly on edge. As you sat on the edge, hoping for a relaxing escape, you heard a thud behind you.

Turning around you saw a man, nay, a boy in a red and blue spandex suit. An instant blush spread across your face as you realized that you were in the presence of a real life superhero, one of the people you had been longing to meet since you knew he existed. Staying sat where you were, you stared at the hero as he made his way over to you.

“Are you alright miss?” he asked, his voice full of concern, but with a certain familiarity to it.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but why are you here?” you asked, wondering what brought you two together.

“I saw someone sitting at the edge of the building, and I had to make sure you’re okay. I wouldn’t want anything happening to a beautiful girl like you, would I?” he told you, walking on eggshells, still unsure if you were truly alright. The real reason is because he was scared you were going to jump. He’s stopped multiple people from jumping recently, it seemed that a lot of people have been losing hope as of late.

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head, “I’m quite alright. Nothing to worry about here.”

“Okay, but can I ask you to step away from the edge there? It’s a bit concerning to see someone without amazing spider abilities that close to a long drop,” he confessed, with a little wiggle of his fingers when he said ‘amazing’.

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry to worry you Spider-Man, I know you’re busy. Didn’t mean to waste your time,” you told him, mumbling the last part.

“Hey now, you’re not wasting my time here! If anything, I’m wasting your time. You were just trying to enjoy the view, and I’m the one that interrupted you.”

“You? Wasting my time? That’s insane! You’re the hero here, I’m just some girl stressing about high school. You’re out here saving people’s lives everyday.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m just a kid under this mask too. Schools not everything, don’t work yourself up so much over it. And hey, if you really need help, maybe I could tutor you.” Despite the mask covering his face, you knew he was smirking.

That was two weeks ago, and now your crush on the superhero was even worse than before. I’m just a kid under this mask. The words kept repeating in your mind as you decided to send a message to the author.

“Hey! I’m a huge fan of your writing and I just read your story about Spider-Man! It’s so good! I’m actually from Queens too, so it’s pretty cool to see someone writing something about the guy. I’ve only run into him once, but I thought the way he was portrayed was perfect! I mean, really, spot-on, so great job! Hope to see more about him in the future!” You sent it, not expecting a response. That’s what usually happened when you messaged one of your favorite writers anyways.

You set your phone down, and prepared to fall asleep, but as you were laying there, you got a notification. She had messaged you back!

“hey! omg, im so glad u liked it, i was really proud of that one but i thought nobody would like it bc it’s not an avenger one. but you’ve met him! that’s insane! like so cool. i mean, im from queens but he probably doesn’t know i exist. o well haha”

As you figured out what to respond, you found yourself getting sleepier, so you put down your phone, resolving to respond tomorrow.

The next morning, you woke up late, rushing to get ready, and heading out of the house and off to school within 10 minutes. A new record, you were sure. As you got to chemistry, your first period class, you opened up your school issued laptop, and pulled up Tumblr. You really didn’t know why they hadn’t blocked it yet, but you weren’t complaining. You opened up your messages and started typing out your response.

“Oh boy, sorry I didn’t respond last night, I fell asleep. School stressing me out, you know? Anyways, here I am in my chemistry class, messaging you instead of doing my work. It’s really not a smart idea, but whatever.”

When you sent the message, you weren’t expecting an immediate response, but you got one.

“what?! no way! im in chem right now too! what a coincidence!”

Your first thought was, wow, this girl uses a lot of exclamation points, immediately followed by the thought that if this girl attended your school, which there was a high likelihood, she would be in the same class as you right now. You looked around for people either on their phone or laptop and only found two. Peter Parker, and (Y/F/N). There was no way it was Peter, that kid was an interesting guy, but you were positive that it was a girl on the other side of the screen. Then you looked at (Y/F/N), scrolling through tumblr, with a little box in the corner, probably your conversation. You smiled, and turned back to your computer, noticing that Peter was watching a video of Spider-Man fighting with the Avengers. Stifling a giggle, you went back to the chat box.

“Do you happen to go to Midtown? I know that’s a random question, but I’m sitting in my chemistry class and, well if you go here, then you’re probably sitting in the same room as me lol.”

As soon as you sent it, you saw (Y/F/N) looking around the room. You made eye contact and both smiled, before turning back to your laptops.

“(Y/N)! i didn’t know you were a hero fan! i mean, ik we don’t talk all that much, but that’s super cool! wait up for me after class i have to hear about your meeting with Spider-Man!!”

“Okay, sounds good!”

You both simultaneously closed your laptops, leaving the only one open Peter’s, still watching the video of Spider-Man. As the bell rang, you walked up to (Y/F/N) and started talking.

“Okay, (Y/N)!” She said, her cheery voice matching all of the exclamation points she used in text, “Tell me all about this spider guy, I need it for my writing!” As she said that, you saw Peter look at you guys, but thought nothing of it, he was a fan too, after all.

As you told her the story of how you met Spider-Man, Peter was behind you the whole time. The three of you shared the next class as well, so it wasn’t weird that he was walking in your same direction, it was weird, however, that he was significantly closer in proximity to the two of you, and clearly listening to you conversation. Once again you wrote it off as not being a big deal.

That night you returned home to a new post from your favorite account. Knowing that it was following the storyline you had come up with in English today, instead of reading, had you anticipating what was to come.

The author’s note read “Hey guys! So today I’m writing another Spider-Man one. I know those of you not from Queens (so most of you) probably don’t want to be reading these, so I’ll get back to my regular scheduled programming as soon as possible, but today I met @(your url) and we had some amazing ideas! Anyways, enjoy!”

You told yourself you were only allowed to read it once you had finished your homework, so you finished your homework as fast as you could, finishing by 11pm, another record, and set to reading. By that time, everybody else in your apartment had gone to sleep, so when you began to read and saw another fluffy part coming up, you resolved to not scream.

That didn’t happen.

Spider-Man had just saved you from yourself, and the demons in your head, sealing the deal with a kiss through the mask and people expected you not to scream? Impossible. So when your parents came running into your room again to make sure you were okay, and were once again met with a sheepish smile, they sighed at you and returned to bed.

As the days went on, you and (Y/F/N) became even closer, coming up with more ideas for stories and working together to find clues as to who your masked hero really was. As the days went on, you also noticed Peter getting more antsy, especially around you. The two of you weren’t friends per se, but you had talked before, and typically said the usual hellos and goodbyes, so when ‘hello’s were traded for shady glances, and ‘have a good day’s were swapped with concerned yet prying eyes, you became concerned too.

Two weeks later you went home and saw (Y/F/N)’s newest post. The fluffiest shit you have ever seen. I mean really. You couldn’t help but scream. After the incidents two weeks prior, your parents decided that your screams weren’t important, and laid there in bed, wondering what the fuck they did wrong (I’m just kidding that’s so mean omg).

One week after that you had resolved that Peter was Spider-Man. You hadn’t told (Y/F/N) the theory yet, because you wanted to gather more evidence, and if it really was Peter, he probably wouldn’t appreciate you going around and telling his secret.

You didn’t realize that that day was the second time you were to meet Spider-Man. You were laying in bed, no new fic today, and ready to sleep when you heard a rustling. Not thinking much of it, you laid there, until you heard someone climb in your opened window. You lived on the 5th floor of the building, nobody would really put that much effort into climbing the fire escape just to rob your shitty apartment, would they?

And then you realized that they weren’t there for money. They wanted something else. Something much worse, and so you let out a scream.

Of course, your parents didn’t come. They had been trained that your screams were a product of joy and not fear, so when they heard it, the both returned to sleep, not thinking of what could possibly be going on. Not thinking that someone unwanted was in the room with their daughter.

The man walked up to you and placed his hand over your mouth, preventing you from screaming again. “I’ve been watching you for a while now,” he said, his voice raspy and his breath vile, “wondering what a pretty girl like you was doing living in this part of the neighborhood. I guess I’ll have to find out.” Before you could even react (and you were going to react, you weren’t someone to just sit there and comply), you heard a familiar voice from right inside the window.

“Well, that’s no way to treat a lady, is it?” It was Spider-Man, your imaginary hero coming to save you in real life, again.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asked.

“You’re clearly not the brightest,” quipped Spider-Man, before he shot a web at the guy and pulled him towards the window, and away from you. Quickly tying him up in webs, he looked at you, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” and swung out the window. Coming back, his hands now free of the man he asked you “Are you alright, miss?” in the same way he did the first day you met.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Thank you though. If I had gone with my plan, it would have been a lot messier honestly. He probably would have ended up being shoved out the window,” you admitted with a laugh, still shaken from the events.

“Well hey, it still would have gotten the job done,” he offered, and you could hear the smile in his voice, even if you couldn’t see it.

“So how’d you know he’d be here?” you asked, curious. “I mean, I screamed and all, but I do that a lot, that’s why my parents didn’t come.”

“Wait? Your parents are here and they didn’t come running when they heard their daughter scream? That’s crazy!”

“I mean, I did say I scream a lot. Please don’t question it, it’s a long and embarrassing story.”

“Well now I’ve gotta question it. Sorry, but I don’t make the rules.”

“Ugh, fine, you win. I read a lot online. Like fluffy fanfiction and-stop judging me, I can see the judgment-”

“You can’t even see my face.”

“I know, but I can still feel the judgement, so stop.” He let out a chuckle. “Anyways, I read a lot of that, and sometimes it just overcomes my emotions and I scream. The first few times my parents came running in. They don’t anymore, obviously. But you never answered my question.”

“What do you read the fics about?” He sounded slightly mocking, as if he knew what the answer was, and if you were right about Peter being the man under the mask, he would know.

You tried to hide the blush on your face as you changed the subject. “You answer mine first, and I’ll think about telling you.”

“Well, I saw that guy coming out of an alley. He seemed really shady, so I followed him back. I’ve seen a few conflicts with him-nothing I’d ever had to get involved with-and so I knew he was trouble. He started climbing the fire escape and I didn’t do anything because I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. For all I knew he lost the key to his house and this was his only way in. Obviously my instincts were correct though, so when I heard a scream, I came in to save you.”

“Well, thank you. It really means a lot to me that you’d do that for me. Thank you.” The heat rushing to your face caused the redness to become even more prominent, and Spider-Man raised his eyebrow at that. Obviously you couldn’t see it, but it was happening.

When he sat on the edge of your bed, you were surprised. Weren’t heroes suppose to save you and run off. This wasn’t one of your dumb fanfictions, this was real life. What he was doing didn’t make any sense. You shook your head and pulled yourself back to reality, looking up at the spandex clad hero sat in front of you.

“How’re you doing? I know the last time we met, you were stressing out over school. Ever find a tutor?” he asked. He was serious, but ended it with a joke, trying to make sure you were comfortable.

“Oh, I’m doing okay, school is still my number one priority-”

“As it should be.”

“But I’m not overworking myself. I’ve been taking breaks, helping my friend brainstorm and writing some stuff instead of just wallowing in my own self pity.”

“That’s good,” he said, smiling at you from beneath the mask.

“You’re probably busy, you should head out.”

“Not much crime today,” he said with a shrug.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have stuff to do. You said it yourself, there’s just a kid under that mask. Go home, rest, talk with your family, finish your homework, sleep. There’s things to busy yourself with other than crime. You’re still just a kid, go live your life.”

He stood up and pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

As he let go and climbed out the window, swinging away, you didn’t even notice that he had never asked for your name.

[feysandrowlien21-blog]

ABC Tag

To start this off, thank you to @squaddreamcourt for tagging me. I absolutely love your fanfictions. They’re so well written! I especially love the Nessian ones. Anyone that hasn’t read them definitely should.

A // Age: I’m 14. Probably a little young for all this stuff (especially chapter 55) but I’ve always been a little more mature than most my age. (Also really lucky my parents trust me and hate fantasy so that I can ramble enough they know I like it but they won’t actually read the books. Thank goodness for that. 

B // Biggest Fear: Either that my judgment is going to be awful and I will somehow end up with an abusive husband, or, the classic, heights. Men, I love them, they can be so fun to talk to and be around, but they are also sooo terrifying. I had this boyfriend (I know, I know, too young but whatever) he was sort of sexually abusive. Not really enough that I feel can truly be called an abuse case because I walked into it when I originally agreed... That aside, heights suck. My dad used to pretend to through me out of those huge hospital windows when I was little, like the ones on the 20+ stories of the building. Never really liked heights since then. 

C // Current Time: 9:47 pm

D // Drink You had last:  I had me a nice little sip of water. 

E // Every day starts with: Waking up, latched on to my super warm snuggle partner (my pillow) and wishing the sun would just take a day off and my siblings would just whine a little quieter ( I swear a buzz saw is quieter). 

F// Favorite song: Devil Down in Georgia by The Charlie Daniels Band. The violin parts are so fun to dance to. 

G// Ghosts: I don’t really but into the ghost thing. I try to logic it all out, more likely that the cat is inside. More likely someone came home. I don’t want to even try to find logic behind ghosts. That would be so annoying. 

H// Hometown:  This smallish community in Northwest Arkansas called Pea Ridge. It

I// In Love With: I’m in love with music. Not so much pop, but classical and oldies, also stuff like Green Day, My Chemical Romance. I am in love with the sky. Just everything about it. Especially at night when the stars are extra shiny or when the colors of dawn or dusk are at their peak. Also books, books are my best friend and my worst enemy. I love them so much. 

J// Jealous of: I am super jealous of anyone who can play games or have fun doing normal stuff. Like, it is so hard to sit down and play a video game or go outside and play a game with people. I am also jealous of anyone with art skills. I can do so many cool things, but I can’t draw.... ugh. It is sooo frustrating because I’ll be like here let me sketch you a visual. So this blob here is a bowl, this thing is a zoom bubble... It’s pretty bad. Artists are so freaking amazing. I could never do what they and their lucky selves can accomplish. 

K// Killed Someone: Oh man I wish. Damn, there are some days when I wish I could kill a bitch. Trying to tell me I don’t know what I’m doing? Back off. I got this. Damn. Pisses me off so much. 

L// Last Time You Cried: Honestly, yesterday evening. I was settling down ready for bed reading a fanfic... the feels!! 

M// Middle Name: Elizabeth. Same as @squaddreamcourt probably the most common middle name that I know. *sigh* at least there are some pretty cool Elizabeths out there.

N// Number of Siblings: 2 one sister and one brother. Both younger than me. It is such a pain being the eldest. Awesome, but a pain. You have to set the example. 

O// One Wish: To just be able to be able to connect with more people. Not be the weird smart girl that you talk to because she knows most everything or because I respond to common things strange or don’t know sports at all or because I talk weird (I have a southern accent and nobody else in my school does). I’m so weird. 

P// Person You Last Texted: Well, normal text, my boyfriend, Joseph. He always wimps out and goes to bed at like 8:30 pm... So we got to talking about heater systems and he out of the blue said I gotta go to bed. I’m sleepy. Buuut on this lovely app, I have been texting my buddies (I think I can call them that, I feel like they are my friends) One is from Brazil her name is Milly @sussurrosliterarios, the other person on this group chat was Anna ( I think ) from the UK (I don’t know your tumblr so sorry). We had an amazing chat about how Rhys might die that morphed into OMG what if someone dies???

Q// Questions You’re Always Asked: Oh God, I hate this one, “ Your accent is so cool, are you from the south?” I cringe every time. Then I also get asked “Hey Morgan, can you help me with (insert academic problem) ?” 

R// Reasons to Smile: Rhys,Rowan, my cat, my dog (you would think he hasn’t seen you in years), by kind boyfriend, books, my flute, cooking, the sky, my dent in the bed, and lastly fanfiction. Because I would be lost without something to read to ride out this massive book hangover.

S// Song Last Sung: Strangely this song called Dead Skunk by Loudon Wainwright III. It came on XM and OMG one of the most funny songs I have ever heard “ You shoulda looked left and you shoulda looked right” and freaking “techincolored” best song ever. This guy must’ve been so high. 

T// Time You Woke Up: 8:30... it’s the weekend. I’m so lazy. Any other day I’d be up with the sun because “The sun’s awake, so I’m awake!” 

U// Underwear Color: Ummmm, okay, navy blue. 

V// Vacation Destination: Ireland. They have the coolest rocks there. I am a huge rock hound. I love how the rocks form there. Plus maybe I would run into a mom and pop cheese making business. It would be cool to try some hand made cheeses. 

W// Worst Habit: Probably moving my leg. It annoys everyone but I am incessantly moving my leg if I am not in a formal situation or fidgeting with stuff in class. Annoys everyone. 

X// X-rays You’ve Had: Arm when I was an infant (fell off a bed), collar bone when I was threeish because I ran in tap shoes with a huge trophy (bet you can guess where that went), stomach /intestine area because my dad was dead convinced that I had pancreatitis, and lastly I got to have an ultrasound because my doctor wanted to put me on birth control since I had so many problems with cysts and cramps. 

Y// Your Favorite Food: Now this is going to sound nuts, but, my favorite food is fried squirrel legs in chicken broth gravy (legs previously soaked in buttermilk). It is the best thing ever. I promise. 

Z// Zodiac Sign: I’m a Sagittarius. I always look at the pictures and think, whoa, he looks so fast, he has horse hooves. Then I look at me. The slowest person ever... so inaccurate...

Well that’s it for me... I would like to tag @sussurrosliterarios, @bookswithcupcakes, @aelin-feyre-males, @dreamerscourt, and @demifaequeen