#oh also one of the horror blogs I follow already posted about being mad this movies getting made…like I said | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thattimdrakeguy · 4 years

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I am very sorry for what you are going through, think that in adittion to that unpleasant people who attack you, there are also many more who enjoy, respect and follow your content, and want the best for you. I really like your reviews and opinions, and although I do not always agree with you, I respect and validate your opinion as much as anyone's because that is to be respectful with others and have common sense.--

--You should not take into account what people who are unable to respect another human being like them say, that they cannot even separate reality from fiction, all for a simple opinion different from theirs about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER, you cannot even take them seriously. If those people need to insult, despise and make someone feel less for a reason like that, it simply speaks of how miserable they are as humans on and off the internet.--

Please don't take into account what these people say, listen to those who appreciate you and show respect. I hope you feel better and I am sorry for what is happening in your life, but you can always forward with your will and the people around you.(Hugs)

I only read these ones this morning, or afternoon more accurately cause I have a very bad sleep schedule for weeks cause I been playing video games too late into the day, but I’m slowly working on it. I’m just really bad at it.

And all I can really say to accurately give my reaction to it, was that it was something I definitely needed to read first thing in the morning. If it wasn’t for those messages yesterday, and a friend helping me out I may not have even been calmed down enough to go to bed at all. I could’ve easily not gone to sleep literally at all and had been even worse today because of it to the point of having another meltdown of a day.

Like I don’t wanna make myself sound too good, because if I did, I’d feel like I was lying, because my mind feels like a bloody nose filled up with tissue paper, if that even makes a darling lick of comprehension.

I find it so entirely weird, and patronizing, and frustrating how the fandom can be, if not worse. Like I say something unpopular, I do it a lot, probably with literally every freaking character. Even Tim, because I know that quite a few Tim fans don’t like me either.

I don’t read every comic and go “Oh this must just be how it works”, because that’s not how my brain is wired. I’m Autistic, I go in-depth, I do a lot of research, that is how I am wired when I get a hyperfixation, I want to know everything. So I say a lot of unpopular stuff because I don’t just accept things, because I don’t work that way.

But it goes like this when it comes to people just being miserable, they have to make me out to either be a bigot or bias, they either don’t even read what I say, or just don’t acknowledge what I say.

My biggest point they will leave out completely to focus on other things that are either completely irrelevant and just there to make me look bad even though it doesn’t really make sense what it has to do anything once you think about it a lick more, or just make me look straight up like a crappy person.

I got really ranty and rambly after this, and I try not to take up people’s dashboards as much. So I’ll put this here. If it’ll work, cause one time I don’t think it did, and it made me panic once cause I felt really bad. But it just would not show up.

Because trying to make a bad face out of a real life living person isn’t that bad, compared to the horrors of having to acknowledge the arcs and actions that their favorite character been through evidentially.

Sorry to say and everything, but I don’t see how on Earth Tim cheating on Ariana has anything to do with a literal whole other arc of Steph being abusive and doing really horrible things, or all those “teases” that were actually flirts that were making Tim genuinely uncomfortable to the point of sexual harassment, and told her not to do, which she didn’t actually always listen to sometimes, surprisingly to some. I also don’t see why it’s so hard to comprehend that Tim kissing Steph just because he got ahead of himself because he was euphoric he was about to die, yet it was made clear he didn’t do sexually or romantically, isn’t as bad (comparatively because it’s still insanely inappropriate and weird, but I wouldn’t call him a pervert over it) to me as Steph literally pinning Tim down during a gun fight to kiss him against his will, or taking advantage of Tim believing she was dead and giving her CPR to do it again. Like I don’t really see why saying “Just read the comics” has to do with anything, because I don’t have the art skills to just make all those panels up like that. Which by the way, I don’t give a single fuck about what bad thing Steph has done. I don’t like her because a lot of her stories are badly written, and a lot of her fans are straight up assholes. Which they conveniently ignore, because I must be villainized, because they can’t handle me acknowledging something that isn’t their idealized image. But let me also state that there are assholes in literally every fandom, I just have certain ones that decide to be assholes to me. And I don’t remember the part where I said teasing was bullying either. I can’t find that on my list of thoughts in my brain. Almost like they don’t actually know how I think or what I meant.

And I don’t know why on Earth Tim not trusting Damian to the point of being kind of scummy has much to do with Damian doing horrid things in comics they like as well. They’re their own separate people ya know? I’m not comparing characters, because I’m not actually trying to shit on the characters you should realize. Not every negative thing is formed out of toxicity. Toxic positivity where people act like not just enjoying everything is so bad is actually a thing. And I see it quite often in fandoms, and it comes from a good place, but my goodness, just let people express themselves sometimes. It’s not going to hurt anybody as long as they’re not actually an asshole or you just have a fragile ego.

It seems pretty irrelevant to me. Implying that I hate the characters because of these actions is also pretty dumb to me as well, because that’s not the case nor how it works. They keep acting like me not acknowledging the bad thing Tim does in the same posts is some showing of my bias, but no, I just view it as fucking irrelevant, because I do bring up when Tim does something bad when ever it is relevant. It is that simple. I think the only time I’ve ever even could truly come across as trying to baby and defend Tim was me saying Tim cheating on Ari with Steph was out of character, which I still hold that opinion too, but I don’t simply make shit up, I just notice how rushed it was, and how it goes against how Tim is about morals, Steph, and his literal stance on cheating. Stuff that you would actually judge what’s in or out of character on.

I just give everything the same standard. I’ve never denied Tim wasn’t passive aggressive or conscending to anyone, or has violated privacy, or was immature. If I had it was probably me caught up in the moment, and pretty weird, because I’ve actively talked about it before.

And I’m referencing stuff in the past with these oddly specific examples, that hasn’t bugged me truly in a while, but when I find a new example of stuff, I can’t help but have it come back to mind and make me question how people got to just be shivery little jerks over things like made-up characters.

I’ve acknowledged the fact that my blog was too anti-Steph plenty of times, even as it was happening, because it was mostly through anons and not me. Some of which I defended Steph on. I just had too much anxiety not responding to them, because I’d feel a sense of guilt for ignoring someone. Which I’m over and past.

I’m not going to be held down by stuff I already corrected about myself.

It’s been so heavily implied to me before, that groups just talk mad shit about me, and made up this horrendous little reputation for me among themselves, and it is so disheartening, considering I’m just this baby faced geek that read too many comics, simply explaining stuff that had happened in actual comics without actual bias. I don’t run DC Comics. I’m just a blogger that they really really don’t like, and take it as a personal attack of some kind, at least going off of how they act.

Maybe it’s what I get for expecting people to treat fiction as fiction and not a big freaking deal when I say something or don’t say something, because they’d understand the context I’m trying to explain literal events in comics as they are, and other things that happened in other situations have no relevance to what I’m saying, because I’m not making a bashing piece like they seem to think.

I know I take fiction very seriously, because I just really want good content again. But I don’t make real life people’s lives miserable. Do ya think I talk shit about Bendis all the time? Not really. I’ve genuinely probably sang his praises more than otherwise. I think Tynion’s the closest example of when I could’ve, but that was years ago at this point. I’ve made it so much more clearer it’s about the comics than them, because simply I’ve realized how scummy it is to mock an actual person, who’s probably actually a really cool guy to know. Do I fuck that up sometimes, probably. But I’m definitely not telling him to kill himself.

If they can’t acknowledge what I actually say, and continue to just try to make me look bad. I don’t personally view myself as the bad one. That’d be utterly redundant.

It always boils down to that I just acknowledge stuff they refuse to, and they just play ignorant about, and pretend they just can’t possibly understand why anyone would say it. I didn’t pull the stuff out of my ass, I have the panels. I didn’t skip anything out. At most I just don’t find the excuses they have to be freaking relevant or over power the action at hand or sometimes the literal motivation she/he had going into it.

And it’s 100% okay, but even though this is a space on the internet, and I’m practically a loser shut in. I still live in the real world and when I’m not having a bad anxiety attack or whatever else, I try to be as reasonable as possible.

I just look at it, look at the context and past contexts, look at the motivations, judge it for what I see, and move on. And never consider it a big deal until someone else makes a big deal about it.

I don’t even view every person that does it against me to be a bad person, some of them most definitely are because they go too far with it, but some of them literally have no idea proper context anymore, or they’re just very very insecure.

It’s very difficult to outright go ‘THEY’RE ALL EVIL’, but when there’s so many that are just putrid humans that want me to take my own life, it’s a wee bit overwhelming, and understandably so, yeah?

People sometimes just don’t properly process what they’re doing, because they’re so caught up in their insecurity, or possibly even a mild ego, but there’s others that will do it because they’re so quick to anger and hatred over fucking nothing.

Welcome to reality. It’s a lot like taking a train ride through a diseased rectum sometimes. But other times it’s like taking a trolley though a nice field. It’s a mixed bag, but it’s a ride that never stops but once.

An important thing I do wanna say though, is that I have everyone who supports me in my heart. I may lose my sight of that when I’m going through an episode I’m having a heckuva lot of trouble controlling, but I’d be in a much worse spot without them. Some of them are so dang respectful, and some are just so legitimately sweet and kind that it’s a blessing to have ever had an interaction of any kind or level with them.

I don’t take any of you for granted even if sometimes I seem ignorant of it during a terrible depressive episode.

You often don’t agree with me and can make it very clear, but it’s the respect you give me nonetheless that I take as precious, because it’s some of the best stuff to receive when all else seems so bleak and lifeless. It’s not an honor everyone sadly receives, so I treasure that a lot. And when I’m feeling so down and out, it sometimes can be the one thing that keeps me even near level, and that’s such an honor that even if it’s such a small amount, because obviously it’s a Tumblr blog I’m always aware of that, it just does mean a lot to me, because it genuinely is an honor to me.

I love you guys a lot. I hope that’s always obvious even when I’m making a mess out of myself. You guys are some of my favorite people on this planet.

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89tczier · 5 years

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the losers and their tumblr blogs

ik there’s already a billion hcs out there but none coming from my niche hellbrain soooo

richie (tttrashmouth)

his blog is one big ADHD mess, he has a new interest every few weeks and his blog changes accordingly, though there are several common ones

he never seems to lose many followers for it though

his original posts are funny enough that people put up with it

he’s that user that you start following out of genuine interest and then realise that you’ve already rbed a lot of their popular posts and you’re like

oh shit, i know this fool

he has tags dedicated to each of his friends, they’re usually filled with shitposts or one of their Big Interests

eddie has two tags, one he knows about, one he doesn’t, and gets mad at richie for not telling him who the tag is for

the one he doesn’t is full of really gay shit

stan (corvid-company)

stan’s blog started out as a big vent but it was starting to get Unhealthy™ so they switched up their content

stan knows about richie’s secret tag for eddie and constantly gives richie shit for it like they vague posts about it all the time to get under richie’s skin

‘the intricate rituals of creating a seperate LoveCore tag for the best friend ur pining for....... like the richard siken of it all.......’ ‘THIS IS BIPHOBIA STAN’

it’s 70% bird watching stuff, 20% posts for mike, 9% vaguing about richie’s gay shit, 1% abt being nb (because i fucking CAN ok)

they also have a pretty impressive following, some of it is due to being mutuals with richie, but a lot of it is due to the Wholesome Bird Content

its a surprise to them but they get so damn happy when they receive asks and stuff about their favourite bird watching spots or how to distinguish between different subspecies

‘i dont know who this guy is, nor do i have a particular interest in birds, but what kind of fucking person would i be if i DIDN’T follow them?’

their tag for mike is pretty cute too, usually its just FarmCore but Romantic stuff they finds, other times its little thoughts they has about them

bev (marsh-makes)

initially set up to advertise her store and products

she makes things like pins and sew on patches that are really fucking good

she gains a pretty big following from that, people like her stuff and she has a really good quality track record

richie models for her sometimes and everyone kinda loves it

she has a lot of stuff about ethical fashion and makes a lot of posts about the problems with the fashion and clothing industries (eg fast fashion and sizeism)

she also has some quality shitposts

‘i dissociated for like five hours one night and woke up with the best skirt i’ve ever pleated and a top to go with it. my power is unmatched’ ‘op are you ok????’ ‘ye i got a kickass outfit why wouldn’t i be’

eddie (kaprisun)

his blog is pretty simple: things he’s interested in, whatever his friends tag him in, and roasting the shit out of richie

‘tttrashmouth will never be content because he knows im funnier than him’ ‘ur not wrong, eds’

a lot of richie’s popular posts are shittalk between the two of them

he also gets into a lot of discourse because he’s feisty like that, usually about comics or comic book movies

‘imagine thinking marvel is better than dc based on 3 movies’

yes he’s a dc fanboy

he’s not as anti-marvel as he can come across he just really doesn’t get the hype around it

he Also has a secret romance tag for richie and its half stuff of his own, half rbed from Richie’s Secret Eddie Posts unknowingly (and a bit of bens)

he tags them with ‘mood’ and it gives richie a heart attack each time

mike (hearth-and-heart)

farm core!!! original farm core content fresh from the oven!!

he takes photos around his farm and posts them and ohhh everyone loves them

same energy as stan’s blog (he has a lot of photos of them and the two of them together as well)

he also writes important dates down as well as books he likes

a Solid shitpost now and then but it’s mostly Pure and Wholesome content

people love his photography and unfortunately it gets stolen a lot but other aesthetic blogs but he doesn’t mind so much

he also is the only loser other than bev with an actual Impressive theme: it’s sleek and really fits the vibe

though every now and again he’ll rb one of richie or bev’s shitposts just for a little variety

bill (deadbrgh)

he posts horror stuff (both from other people as well as his own art/writing) and little bit of vent/rant stuff

his rants are about tropes in horror he hates (eg: ableism and other general bigotry)

his vents are usually about grief or trauma, and he keeps them properly tagged and under a cut

his horror stuff too, he makes sure to keep everything tagged properly and has a link to the tag list in his description

he sometimes makes a Spicy addition to richie’s posts, and people are like ‘wait why does this Super Serious and Talented creator follow that goblin??’

he also rbs a lot of ben’s stuff, people think they’re the same person for a hot minute because ben also writes and draws, but their styles and aesthetics are totally different

‘people thinking me and eggboy are the same person is really flattering but unfortunately im nowhere near as ripped as he is’ ‘luv u bb’

then people think they’re dating, but also think the one of them is dating bev

they never clear it up

ben (eggboy)

all of his poetry and drawings

he also makes a lot of lovecore posts that are definitely not for beverly at All

his a few of his poems get really popular so he kinda blows up a bit and he is Unsure How To Handle it

his first haiku for bev is his most popular like people go crazy for it

where his drawings are more stylized, bill’s are more realistic and gritty

people always think he’s straight tho and he’s like ‘could a straight person do this??’ *proceeds to capture the Essence of adoration and devotion*

bev rbs every one of his original posts and hypes him tf up, they collab on a few things and bev puts some of his Iconic lines on patches

the january embers line,,,,,,, people lose it

a lot of his stuff ends up in mike, richie, eddie and stan’s respective Love tags which he finds Perfect

he writes a poem about richie and eddie’s obliviousness and they’re both just like ‘god i wish that were me,,,,,, sounds familiar tho,,,,,,’

#the losers club #reddie #stanlon #benverly #kinda #ben/bill/bev #idk their shipname #headcanon #it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #stanley uris #beverly marsh #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #idiot.txt

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saltine-kakyoin · 4 years

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OH SHIT!!!! my clown ass never saw that u rb'd those ask posts, i was Looking at my notifs to see if u would so i could send u some but SOMEHOW I MISSED IT??? clown hours.... ANyways for the emoji one have 🤗💙💘🍀😇 and 👍 (tried to not do repeats from your ask 2 me cause they all apply anyways but, Regardless) and for the questions post, maybe 5, 11, 12, 17, 20, 23 and 25? ;__;/ ily so much and i hope u have a rlly lovely night!!! and that this coming week is kinder 2 u!!!! 💖💖💖💖

ahhh, it’s no worries!!! idk about you but for me, tumblr has been having the Time of Its LIFE lately wrt notifications and most disconcertingly, unfollowing people! D: so i completely get it, it’s no worries!!! ;w;/ i already know for a Fact i’m going to write so so much, so i’m gonna put this under a readmore >w< ruth 🤝 sarah respectful lesbian moments

edit: so I finished writing it and it’s Insanely Long- just in case you don’t make it to the bottom, thank you mein broth-er!!!! ; O; i hope you have a wonderful night too!! writing all of this out made me reminisce on some really nice times, and I’m having an a1 night! ^^ ilysm! it’ll probably be daytime when you read this, so i hope you have a great day! <3

🤗 given the chance I would gladly hug you

on god!!!! ;___; i think i would frfr dissolve if a got a Ruth-Certified hug, things have been so overwhelming lately

💙 you are my closest friend

the feeling is mutual!! <3 we don’t always get to talk often, but fhdhshg when we do we talk about like All of the Madness in Sarah’s Mind^tm, and you are so patient + tolerant of my incoherent ramblings which is something i don’t think i’ve ever fully experienced? anyhow, after a year (more than a year?) of having these kinds of convos and going through the general madness of life together, I totally agree ;w;

💘 I love you so much

i love you too!!! so so much!!! 💃🕺 i don’t think words will ever be able to express how much i love and appreciate you! 💜💛

🍀 i’m lucky to have met you

i know we talk about this often, but seriously i feel the same way! it’s a little crazy that we met, technically, because Joseph Joestar tm deserved more than to be a cheater... there is something hilarious about this wild friendship rooting from him!! of all jojos!! 🤢 but i’m so grateful that we met, it’s been such a wonderful ride ;w; <3

😇 you’re a sweet cinnamon bun

🥺🥺🥺🥺 bro i- fhdhghdhgh thank you!!! ;o;

👍 you are fun to be around

ahhh, thank you!!! i am glad you feel this way bc whoo boy, i think some other people would look at the madness i tell you about and go 👁️👁️ that’s a no for me, luvs. remember last year when i was losing it tryna prepare for ren faire + i cut my palm on that one glass bottle? bc a- i barely do and b- i feel like that moment encapsulates the nicki minaj roman holiday-ness of my life XD i’m really grateful you’ve stuck around through it all 🤗💕💖

now buckle in bro!!!! the essays are incoming!!!

5. Name a movie that makes you genuinely laugh.

i swear on my life the Mortal Kombat movie from 1995 is a national treasure, it is SUCH a solid movie and has so many funny moments. Robin Shou makes such a 🥺🥺 Liu Kang, and jesus fuck he can be so savage when the script calls for it!! there’s one part where he takes Johnny Cage’s luggage and straight up fucking chucks it into the ocean + then bullies him about it later! honestly the Ballad of Johnny Cage and His Luggage is one of my favorite parts from the movie <3 if you haven’t seen it + you like cheesy, old school movies, i really recommend it!!!

11. Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.

So I can’t remember the last time I did, bc my memory is horrifically terrible + probably getting worse as time goes on?? but i will tell you about one of the more recent times I remember! :D There is one crucial expository note for this memory- my brother-in-law makes THE best chili in the entire world. my brother and I were trying to recreate it because it’s such a simple but delicious + filling meal- I think this was our first time trying to create it? and it was SO chaotic, the tomato sauce and stuff kept popping and burning me and we weren’t 100% certain that we’d gathered the right ratios for the ingredients and it was just. madness lmao. Chance’s chili is one that you leave alone for multiple hours at a time (I think this is the case for all chili but i don’t cook often enough to know ;__;), and we were kinda 👀👀👀 because we weren’t sure it’d turn out right? But it did!!!! I vividly remember when it was finished and we taste-tested it + went oOOH FUCK! it wasn’t quite the same as chance’s but ohhh my god it was so good 🥰🥰🥰 but yeah!! we ate it all up and I think this was around the time I started my playthrough of Esteban for Dragon Age 2? which was one of my favorite playthroughs for the entire franchise... he’s just a simple ig beard model mage ;w; i wanted to show you what he looked like in this post but the formatting went wonky so ig i’ll just post him separately?? it’s 1000% in-character for him to infiltrate my jojo blog 😔

12. Name a song that makes you feel ethereal.

hm...I’d say it’s between Forget About or Feet of Clay! They’re both such light and tenderhearted songs, and when I listen to them I feel like I’m in an apartment kitchen slow-dancing with a love, and it’s so dark except for the slowly rising sun. I don’t know if that feeling could be described as ethereal? but it’s close enough for me

17. What is something you own that is important to you? What makes it so important?

I have a small collection of scripts from the shows I’ve been in, and two of the most important ones are from the plays my high school put on during my sophomore and junior years, The Nit-Wits and The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940, respectively! The Nit-Wits has a ton of sentimental value to me because it was the last show I genuinely acted in, and it was a show we had to pull together in 2 or 3 weeks!! We were originally going to do a murder mystery play for the fall, but none of the cast was feeling it and it just wasn’t going to come to life in time (honestly this speaks volumes for how much we weren’t vibing with it, because all of our shows came together at like.. the final dress rehearsals if not opening night lmao). I vividly remember we took a vote during rehearsals about whether or not to switch the show, and then we did and it was SO fun + chaotic!! My character was one of the only regular characters in the show, but I think everyone else had a lot of fun acting as actors who were hired to be maniacal, and that made acting off of them so fun! I remember there was also a night my friend Adonis almost tore the entire set down because he ran through a door and tripped over a set brace in his haste!! The Nit-Wits is hugely important because it was a really fresh acting experience for me, and again, my last time genuinely on the stage and not behind the scenes!

MCM is important to me because it was the first play I ever stage managed! I’d stage managed our musical the spring prior, but that was a huge undertaking and involved many different people and moving parts. Stage managing a play, at least at my high school, was a calmer and more intimate experience, and one I really enjoyed! Another huge reason I treasure MCM’s script is because it is one of the last shows I had with my friend I told you about- he was a senior. I have little notes and doodles from the cast and crew scattered throughout my book for this show, and I remember being so irritated by this because it meant I was losing space for stage directions, cues, and notes. Now, I’m super grateful to have these scribbles- it’s one of the only things I have left of him.

On that note, relating to him, MCM is also the show which birthed my most horrific theater horror story!! During one of the performances, I guess he forgot his line?? idk. But he ended up jumping six pages ahead of where the current scene was (I knew this bc I was following along in my book backstage + was frantically trying to figure out where he’d gone), which threw the entire cast, who were all tragically onstage, way off-track. This resulted in the most frightening game of script ping-pong I’ve ever seen: he’d skipped six pages ahead, so Adonis ended up saying a line from two pages after the six-page skip, and somehow someone else went!! oh I have a response to that line! And then said something like 9 pages back! I think the lead actress tried to ground everyone back to the lines they were supposed to be saying, but she ended up just saying a lot of their lines? And one of those lines that was supposed to be said by someone else was supposed to cue a black-out that someone got murdered in, but my lighting techie was SO fucking lost (we were both huddled over the script next to the breaker trying to figure out WHERE the hell we were! i think i had a flashlight in my mouth so I could flip through the book with both hands and thus faster??), so ofc the lights stayed up! I remember getting through this scene being the most painstaking endeavor of my entire life, but thankfully intermission was right after it! We actually extended intermission because the cast needed a hot second to fuckign RESET for Act 2 bc sweet jesus that was so bizarre...Needless to say, after that show we never messed that scene up again + everyone who acted in the show became super anal about knowing their lines as the years went on. The Six Page Skip became a legendary part of our hs theater Canon (like biblical canon ;w; although I don’t think anyone’s talked about it since my class graduated) alongside the times one of our ensemble dudes had to break through the roof of the girl’s dressing room to retrieve the keys to the theater + i got stuck on stage!

20. What’s the sweetest thing someone has done for you?

I really had to wrack my brain to answer this one, as I’m generally not the person people do things for, you know? This answer goes wayyy back, to 8th grade :O but so! there is mild exposition for this- when I started middle school, I lived in North Carolina, but we moved to Florida right before 7th grade bc my grandma is ill. We lived with my uncle while we were looking for a house, so I went to the local middle school bc why wouldn’t I? but in November, we finally found a house + my mom was like....So... are you going to switch schools or...I’d struck up some really solid friendships in this time, so i was like Mom I’d Rather Die OAO. So, we struck up a deal that I’d get to stay at that school on a zone waiver + that she’d drive me to school everyday. Sometime closer to the end of eighth grade she was like, yeah so.. I can’t do this for high school, it’s too much gas- which was valid! I was really sad about it, but I sucked it up.

Anyhow, fast forward to the last day of eighth grade, which was perhaps the saddest day I’d lived up until that point, mostly bc I knew I was probably never going to see all my friends again. My best friend, who I was like hardcore v close to + the person I shared all my wacky AUs and OC’s and headcanons with, was waiting with me for my mom to come pick me up, and then!!! When my mom pulled into the school she suddenly whipped out this lengthy letter she’d written to me about how much she enjoyed my friendship and how grateful she was that we were able to have lunch together (lunch was.. tragically ;__; the only time we really saw each other that year), and that she would never forget me! And she’d drawn me a ton of fanart from all the things I was obsessed with back then!! it was so much so fast, but then my mom was yelling at me to get in the car and I had to go :(

We kept in touch through email freshman year + fake-dated bc a senior was stalking me? ;J; and then we went to Megacon together! but I became really heavily involved in choir and theater after that, and we just kind of drifted apart :( we do follow each other on ig tho! It’s insane to think about her and that letter because on GOD ruth, that was a thinly veiled love letter and I never like... wrote her anything back that was as worthy as what she wrote me. But, she’s doing really well in uni now, so I guess it’s all okay? idk! ; o ;

23. What’s your zodiac sign? Do you think you fit the general characteristics of that sign?

I’m a Cancer!! and also a metal dragon by the Chinese Zodiac, which I’ve always thought was pretty sick! :3 I am 10000% your stereotypical Cancer, super emotional and introspective + often prone to tears ;u; My mom always said that dragons are steadfast and loyal people, and I think this also applies to me, to a fault. I checked around some websites to see what characteristics were often applied to metal dragons specifically, and it seems they are pretty strong-willed, ambitious, and generous? I don’t know if you could call me strong-willed or ambitious, but it’s all good ig.

25. What’s a song that gives off good vibes anytime you listen to it?

Ohh man, I went in on this question for Shannon, but bc I was digging around my library for Jules, I actually found an old fave! This song is from one of my all-time favorite musicals, Once on This Island- it’s The Human Heart! This song is so sweet, and god between the writing for the orchestra + the writing for the ensemble, this song is a straight masterpiece <3 I love love love the line, “Through your love you’ll live forever”, and although I am Hardcore Terrified of getting a tattoo, I really want that line tattooed on my body. if you have time, I recommend giving Once on This Island a listen!! I’ve never heard a show that uses its instruments and singers the way OoTI does (and holy FUCK it is so breathtaking live!!! I got to see it on Broadway and bro.... 🥺🥺 it was transcendental..)

#me when i talk to jules- floods her w a wall of songs #me when i talk to ruth- floods her with a wall of incomprehensible thoughts #the lov is stored in the walls of text! ; O ;#thank you again ruth!!!! this was really fun to write out and i may have cried while writing a few bits but it's fiiiine #i loved writing this 🥰#long post #like INCREDIBLY long post!!!!#sriracha ask game #fullmetal-the-last-alchemist

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emmdaenovice · 4 years

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Towards a better future #1

Daminete

So I should probably put a few trigger warnings on this

Ah, suicide, abuse, um… depression, mature readers only?

On a cool night in Pairs Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood alone on the highest spot on the Eiffel tower she could climb to while not being a danger to herself and a potential nasty mess on the sidewalk. She looked at the stars hiding behind a thick layer of cloud, or at least she imagined they were there, silently sparkling looking down on all. thinking that holding onto faith is only easy thing to do when its something physical, like the stars. As you see her faith was slowly wavering, mostly due to her miraculous partner Chat Noir but also Paris’ civilians, and. Herself.

It all began barely a month ago, it’s amazing how Marinette’s world could change this much in a small matter of time. She and her parents traveled to China to visit her Uncle, Wing Cheng, partially to escape from the stress of school life (a holiday) and also because of the grand finale of the D.A.B,’s cooking competition. Which no one was surprised when it was announced that Wing was winning. Marinette was so excited for so many reasons, she would be able to see her extended family again and get some more ideas for this new jacket she’s working on, and new inspiration, all the colours, flora, fauna, people, trends, smells, people, places, things!… She had to remind herself daily that she as Marinette Dupain-Cheng could to do all of those things but, she wasn’t just here as Mari. No, what not many people know is that Ladybug and Chat Noir planned to meet in Beijing for a secret mission to involve more miraculous holders and guardians in their mission to defeat Hawkmoth.

The plan started when Chat Noir informed Ladybug that he would be unavailable due to the psychopathic wishes of his father, forcing him to relocate for a few months.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had become closer and closer with each fight they won together and now found themselves in a sibling like relationship. They knew almost everything about each other, except their identities. Which neither of them really knew why but resorted to the explanation of the danger it would cause if one of them was compromised. To say that they trusted each other with everything was an understatement. Because of this Ladybug knew there was nothing she could do about Chat Noir leaving, the fact that the father managed to be a helicopter parent, an absent parent and a psychopath with trust issuers all in one makes her head spin. So, she decided she would make the best of the situation.

Marinette began to pull stings to make sure everything fell into place perfectly, she encouraged Wing to compete in the D.A.B’s, began letting cracks in her emotions show through to her family more than usual, asked if they were going on any upcoming trips, she researched and planned way into the night for months, this would be the most successful trip Ladybug and Chat Noir took together in the history of miraculous. They would find help, and they will take down Hawkmoth. Chat Noir bid his good buy to ladybug and the semi-permanent team of miraculous holders consisting of Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion and Ryuko. Ladybug then explained that she was also going to be out of area for a while but will always have the miraculous of teleportation on her for Akuma purification and emergencies. She trusted the group with small Akuma’s but didn’t think Alya and Nino really took the job seriously, Marinette blames herself for not giving the Kawami better matching holders.

So, the plans were set, everything was ready, she was ready.

Chat Noir and ladybug often conversed and went through the plan of attack through the days after Ladybugs arrival. To be honest that’s false, they were trying to find the bloody thing, the entrance to Hunan’s miraculous league. They found information on it thanks to the miraculous book and some odd new posts hidden deep within the internet. One might think that this was a long shot and it was, but it was the only shot they had. They needed adults, people with expert knowledge on battle strategies, physical and mental training, detective skills, … someone with a car. Literally anything would help, they both agreed that nothing would get worse in this situation as why they were trying their best to find it. Oh boy how they were wrong.

When they finally found it, they were ecstatic, so excited to learn more and to finally get help, but they were met with unenthusiastic faces. It seems that this ancient place only held artifacts of the past, no trainers, no holders, no guardians not even Miraculous. To say they were heartbroken would be an understatement. Marinette found herself slipping through the superhero façade as a single tear fell as soon as they were out of the temple, which soon was followed by more until they turned in to full on sobs as Chat Noir held his lady tight whispering sweet nothings into her hair. She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, she tries to always expect the worse when it comes to new material on miraculous and hero work, but she couldn’t help herself. Just this one time she hopped things would go her way. After a while she calmed down and realised how she was truly thankful for her partner, the beautiful heart and hair of gold, mischievous little tom cat, her Chat Noir. They conversed and decided to take a deeper look at all of the artefacts the next day to see if they missed something, and to also discover where the mysterious aura within the temple walls was coming from.

They returned to Paris the next day at an alarming pace as they both realised that they haven’t been called over to help in any battles all week let alone purify any Akuma. They both came up with possible scenarios that would explain their absence but most of them were impossible or much in the worse scenario possible category. When they arrived in Paris they found that everything was quite normal, everything seemed to be in place, they located the hero’s and discovered that Hawkmoth hasn’t attacked in quite some time… This freaked the duo even more so. The heroes have been looking after petty crimes for the past 7 days without any suspicious activity at all. Well at least Viperion and Ryuko have. It seems that Rena Rouge and carapace have been keeping up the social experience of the team, to an extent where they were over sharing. Ladybug was furious at this for first not telling her about the suspicious activity (and yes no activity counts as suspicious activity) and secondly for sharing private information about their hero work to the public. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe what she was feeling especially when she found out that Rena Rouge was sharing yet again information, but about the hero’s personal lives, and even identity on Alya’s blog. This time she had gone too far. Chat Noir stood besides his lady silently supporting her as she disciplined his friends, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t mad, he thought he could trust them with more than this, they broke his trust.

It might be because Chat Noir’s and Ladybugs spirits were already broken but they were seriously thinking of the next best step to take as permanent miraculous holder and guardian. Drastic measures such as demoting them to normal civilians was thrown around, but they decided against that, instead they planned to revisit the situation when their civilian identities came back home, and their minds refreshed. They spent the rest of that day checking out potential suspects relating to Hawkmoth. When It came to Gabriel Agreste they weren’t sure how high or low to put him on the list of suspects, but when they visited his mansion to find that he was absent struck a cord with Marinette. She knew something was wrong. Chat Noir didn’t seem too keen on looking around the place determined that his father was a good person.

‘He just doesn’t seem like the type of guy you know?’

‘Chat I don’t think anyone thinks that a fourteen-year-old could ever be Ladybug, suspects are suspects’

When Chat wouldn’t tell her why he was acting weird Ladybug dismissed it as Him just feeling weird being in her old crushes house.

Ladybug found herself feeling off in the house, an especially when it came to Gabrielle’s study, a feeling in the pit of her stomach like a void sending sparks down her legs. They let Kaalki explore the room as they had her on handy, exited to be in a famous person’s study she eagerly obliged to snooping around the room. She zoomed quickly around the room knocking over books and papers, which Chat Noir quickly put back into place, as she finally took a plunge into the floor. They both stood there for a minute conversing in whether a Kawami can get stuck in the ground or not, but didn’t have to act as Kaalki soon flew out beneath the floorboards slower than before with a grim look on her face.

‘Well, what did you see?’ Chat said eagerly wondering what the Kawami found. Forgetting to drop a pun in the process. The Kawami only looked solemnly at the guardian.

‘I advise you to never go down their” she said, almost afraid of the words she spoke

‘Kaalki, why? What’s down there?’ Ladybug spoke, the Kawami squirmed and Chats face paled. What could be down there? What could be down there that a Kawami that has been around for thousands of years is afraid of?

‘I do not wish to speak the horrors. But I can confirm that Gabriel Agreste is in fact Hawkmoth’ her words hung beneath them like a dead man swinging side to side by a noose.

‘What.’ Was all Chat Noir could say. His mind a mess filled with memories and arguments. Finding there was two sides of himself, one that always knew and one who knows he’s innocent.

‘Are you sure’ Ladybug said grimly. meanwhile Chat Noir sat down on his father’s desk staring at the painting of his mother, his emotions running astray within his heart.

“my guardian I am sure as the sky is blue.’ Kaalki looked up at the duo both with horror and sorrow in their eyes, ‘There is refinance of the torcher of Kawami down there as well as a room filled with butterfly’s and Akuma alike. Not to mention a motive for his wish’ she continued.

‘We need to get down their’ Chat Noir decided.

‘You can’t access the tunnels from here there all been sealed off mechanically.’ She thinks for a moment ‘We can open it with Hawkmoth present’

Ladybug thought for a minute, she doesn’t want to attack a man without seeing the proof herself… But she trusts the words of her Kawami ‘Ok’ Ladybug decides ‘lets go find Gabriel Agreste’.

‘I’m glad you decided on this, It is the best to have a clear head while defeating Hawkmoth and this room will do quite the opposite’ Ladybug feeling true terror within her for a moment then turned to Chat Noir.

‘We have to find Gabriel Agreste’ she said with a determining tone ‘if I was an evil mastermind, where would I be if I weren’t at my house?’ Ladybug thought out loud. Finally coming to her senses she sees Chat Noir on the floor.

‘Hey, you ok?’ she sits down next to him and pulls him into a hug ‘Perhaps Hawkmoth has gone to catch butterfly’s’ she laughs trying to make light of the mood, trying to put a smile on his face. But Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste has never felt more conflicted in his life, his emotions were tearing him up inside, all he felt like doing was crying. He would be safe in his lady’s lap, within the embrace of his partner, his best friend, she would listen to him. ‘heck maybe he’s taken a vacation to Hawaii.’ Chat Noir jolts out of Ladybugs arms, quickly remembering where his father is and why he might be there.

“He’s in China.’ he spoke as if there was a hair ball in his mouth.

‘What.’ Ladybugs eyes wide as he has ever seen them ‘Chat what do you mean?’

‘Ladybug. Gabriel Agreste is in China.’

The statement dropped out of the cat’s mouth and rolled around the floor. This is bad. It couldn’t be, that he was also looking for the hidden miraculous association in Hunan like they were… right? No, of course not. Probably, because everything that can go wrong must.

The pair teleported to the temple once again fighting large tree branches in the way, they had no time to care for the nature in the way of their path. They had to get to the association as soon as possible, they had to make sure that everyone was ok, sure they were unhelpful but that doesn’t mean they deserve to suffer at the hands of Hawkmoth. Questions like these and more flowed through their head faster than a cat jumping out of water like; what was Kaalki so afraid of, is Gabriel really Hawkmoth, where do my parents think I am now, what am I going to do now, will we win? After all these years of fighting finally will we win.

They ran towards the temple stopping halfway to catch their breath, understanding that if Hawkmoth was there that he would feel the presence of the portal but still silently cursing Kaalki for not bringing them closer. A scream was taken out of their lungs as large boom thundered across the forest accompanied by a large dust storm and the deepest colour of orange licking the tips of the sky. Someone had blown up the temple. Who were they kidding hawkmoth had blown up the temple. All that ancient memorabilia, the history, the connection to the miraculous, even the old farts that occasionally dust the entrance. All gone. All obliterated by the hands of one man, and for what?

‘Milady theirs something I need-‘

‘There he is’ Ladybug points at a shadow emerging from the debris ‘let’s go Chat’ she extends her hand to him, he pauses for a second then grasps her hand tight.

‘I would go anywhere with you my lady’ Kaalki quickly teleports the duo directly behind their villain of four consistent years. He turns noticing the presence, but Ladybug quickly wrapped her yo-yo around him. She pulled on the strong fiber forcing him onto the ground.

‘Gabriel Agreste’ Ladybug yelled in the most fearsome Guardian like tone Chat Noir has ever heard. To both heroes surprise Hawkmoth lifted his head off the ground looking them both in the eye

‘Ah beetlebug and kittycat, I would say I’m surprised but honestly, it took you long enough’ he spat, quite confident for a trapped man. ‘I suppose that’s what I get for fighting a bunch of children’ he huffed.

‘Well these children kept you busy for four years now didn’t we!’ Chat Noir yelled. ‘fuck you’ he said less confidently his voice breaking, both unable to move an inch towards their captive, like a moment in time that froze completely

‘I had certain obstacles in my way preventing me from defeating you, if I had a powerful miraculous this little game of cat and mouse would be over a lot quicker’

‘So, you got angry when you didn’t find any here and blew up a sacred miraculous temple?!’ she yelled her arms shaking a little from the adrenaline, unable to explain this monsters thought process

‘No, no, no little girl, I’m afraid you aren’t quite right’

‘Don’t belittle us, you’re the one trapped’ Chat Noir said growling, like a hungry beast in front of its prey.

Hawkmoth began to laugh manically ‘That’s where your wrong foolish boy, I’m right where I want to be. Don’t you know what happens if you back a wild animal into a corner?’ Chat shakes in fury as this grown man, his father laughs at him. All of those years of looking up to him, trying to get him to be proud of him, acting as the best child one could have, … all those years fighting for his life, dying again and again for the sake of his lady for the sake of taking him down. All for what. Chat controlled by rage silently walked towards the man, looked at him in the eyes, those deep dark eyes holding horrors he never wants to see. This man has tortured him for years mentally, physically and emotionally in all meanings of the word, he wanted him to pay. It was time for Adrien Agreste to finally get his revenge. With all the force he could muster he kicked his father in the ribs, feeling or maybe imagining the satisfying crack of ribs underneath his boot. One part of him thought he should be sad, but all he felt was empty. Hawkmoth coughed and wined in pain looking up at Chat smiling.

‘Is that all you got? Pussy’ his laugh this time was cut off by chats fist finding its place on garbles cheek.

‘Chat that’s enough’ Ladybug said a solemn look on her face. He looked at her and stood back.

‘Oh, I see, the little stray has an owner.’ he laughs ‘Come on ladybug give it a go! Hit me! Though I doubt you could hurt me with that tiny whore body of yours‘ he laughs one again and ladybug turns away, she knows that Hawkmoth wants to rile them up, no matter what he throws at her she won’t give in to what he wants, she will not give control to him. Chat Noir however couldn’t say the same, he wanted to follow the rules of his lady but Hawkmoth was laying in front of him completely defenseless asking for a beating ‘Oh oh I’ve got it the bitch owns the bitch’ that was the last straw for chat Noir he tackled his father the one that helped bring him into existence and started beating him unable and unwilling to hold back.

Ladybug was frozen in time afraid of her partner, afraid of how violent he had become, though she didn’t blame him. The sheer force of his attacks and the emotion behind them, such raw hatred, she’d never seen her best friend like this before. That small moment in time was all it took. Both heroes distracted one hitting the terrorist which forced the entirety of Paris under extreme pain, and the other afraid of her most trusted friend, her partner of four years. Kaalki’s glasses were slid off ladybugs head and placed into the hand of Myura. The ladybug yelped in terror as she realised a plant like looking Amok had stolen the miraculous from atop her head with its long wipe like vines. Chat also looked up from his pray in time for him to be thrown off Hawkmoths body like a sack of potatoes. Before chat could get up off the ground, he was hold tight by the forest monster as he found his lady was as well. Hawkmoth was slowly picked up off the ground by the vines and placed on his feet. His bloody face dripping with crimson and slight black bruises starting to form where Chat punched him repeatedly. How could they forget about Myura, how could they forget? They should have just transported Hawkmoth to Paris then and there, they should have tied him up, they should have checked their surroundings, they’re ladybug and Chat Noir for miraculous sake they heroes. Heroes don’t make stupid mistakes like this, freezing up when things are finally going their way. No. real heroes would have done better. They’re not heroes they failed Paris they failed the guardians before them they failed themselves. The only thing that they are is children. Scared children trying to save the day in feeling like adults dressing up in their parents clothing. How could this have happened?

‘You won’t get away with this Hawkmoth” ladybug yelled ‘Our miraculous don’t belong in the hands of evil. Good will always find a way, and it will punish you for you evil doings, the terror you have spread across Paris and now the world, if not us then the next.’ She spoke proudly as if she had won the battle, her words spoken like a true hero like a true guardian. Hawkmoth was steadied by Myura, as she gave him Kaalki’s miraculous, looking at them like she had said something strange

‘If you kill us now you will regret it, the weight of two innocent, in your word’s children, weighing on your soul for eternity. Don’t you have a kid? Adrien?’ This got Hawkmoths attention ‘He’s about the same age as us, what will you see when you look at him. Will it all be worth it? all this death and tragedy for a wish? A wish that will blow up in your face?’ Chat finished wanting to back up what Ladybug said in his own way. Hawkmoth laughed once again as if Chat had said something funny, for a moment Adrien wondered what type of face Hawkmoth would make when her realises he had killed his own child, would he laugh, just as he is now? Would he be happy that the burden of his perfect son would be gone?

Ha sorry to end it like that

I’m sorry but we wont see the romantic side for a couple of chapters but it’s coming soon I promise!

Tell me if you hate it ~

#miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #miraculous marinette #mlb #mlb x dc #angst #maridami #maribat #daminette #xoxo

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rabbitindisguise · 5 years

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oh my GOD what the FUCK

Carry On was so fucking good

SPOILERS

the bit about the dancing as fighting and then mutual surrender? how baz just flat out says “I’m hopelessly in love” and just smacks you with it at the end of a chapter? I had to stop. I had to BREATH DEEPLY because WHAT THE FUUUUCK. Simons just out there with a whole set of wings. I mean, goals, and I know there’s follow up books, but hooooly fuuuuck. And magic working like language! Wait no I don’t really give a shit about that even though it’s cool. VAMPIRES. The fucking truce. The mage was his dad? LUCY WAS HIS MOM? SIMON WILL NEVER DOES NOT CURRENTLY KNOW WHO HIS DAD IS? “LUCY GOT OUT,” BUT SHE’S BIG DEAD??? BAZ DOES A MAGIC THING WHERE HE HAS TO BE IN LOVE FOR IT TO WORK? I’M???

I feel ready to throw a book but like, in the most aggressively delighted way possible. Baz was also really fucking funny as a character. I’m pissed I can’t reasonably stay up for the second one. Christ. Simon going back to Baz’s house. Simon just booking it Baz’s house without even thinking. Sleeping on Baz’s couch. Simon!!! KISSING. BAZ. BAZ WHO HAD A CRUSH ON HIM. BAZ WHO HAD A CRUSH ON HIM A LONG TIME. BAZ WHO WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM A LONG TIME. THAT BAZ. God, I can’t even imagine. I love pining but it usually resolves with the pining character making the move- if this becomes more common I’ll just die I can’t handle it. I need to slip this shit into my writing. Feel like such an ass for not even rewarding myself with the height of unrealistic daydreams, MUTUAL AFFECTION. The way Baz talks about Simon in the books is just absolutely disgustingly dripping with affection. I was actually kind of appalled. Zero restraint! Absolutely none! “I’d kill HEAD MAGE for SIMON but not my whole family and anyone else in the universe or even myself.” TEARING OFF THE CROSS WITH HIS BARE HANDS. Showing him his FANGS. MORE THAN ONCE. EATING IN FRONT OF HIM. This book makes me feral. I can’t stand it. Every instance of being confused if he wants to punch Simon or kiss him. Every fight they get into AFTER they’re ALREADY TOGETHER. HOW THEY KEEP FLIRTING EVEN AFTER THAT. Deciding not to live together full well knowing they’ll be spending their time together anyway. THE LACK OF LOVE CONFESSION YET THEY JUST KEEP CASUALLY SAYING IT. I wouldn’t be surprised if the institution of marriage itself rolled up like “sorry boys, I’m afraid you’re lawfully wed. File your taxes.”

I also feel like I just had the emotional rollercoster equivalent of when you first find out adults sometimes are stupid but also thank christ because the mage was a fucking disaster and I don’t want him to be right about anything. BAZ. Anyway.

I’m gently vibrating with love.

I picked up fairly early on that the mage was his dad and that junk but I was still like “NO no- no? No, no” because I SIMPLY didn’t want that. I kept flipping through chapters with big reveals with such dawning horror it was like watching a crash in slow motion. The plotting was so SMOOTH. THE HUMDRUM. I CAN TALK A LONG TIME ABOUT MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE HUMDRUM. “Sometimes a hole just wants to be filled” HUH BAZ HUH YOU WOULDN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT WANTING SOMETHING YOU CAN’T HAVE JUST LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND. Your BOY FRIEND OF THE ROMANTIC NATURE?? SIMON??? SIMON SNOW???

(like I said: feral)

Simon Snow who was also like “obviously my ex girlfriend wants to date him, I want to date him, I mean except he’s a vampire” and then when he finds out he’s actually is a vampire is like “oh cool” and tries to convince his boyfrIEND to love himself at every available opportunity

what am I even supposed to do now. I don’t even have a book hangover I’m just razzed. I don’t even know if that’s a word. Tumblr really undersold this book to me. I was expecting to grit my teeth through it, but I mean. It’s not my favorite thing in the universe, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s perfectly itself in every way?? Like a really well stylized anime from the early 2010′s? It takes up its own space, it murdered me twelve times, and I’m not even mad, there’s nothing I feel dissatisfied with. Sometimes a book siphons energy out of a person but I feel like I just lip locked with a live battery for a couple hours, and not in the inspiration sense- however I definitely want to get back to my fic and drag that fucker out even longer because the primal urge for Pining Resolutions has be stated. For now. It’s still nuts to me that they got together. Nothing bad happened! Like, okay, his dad’s a homophobe. No one had any panic attacks about it though. It was weirdly refreshing considering that’s usually my favorite part. But GOD. THE CERTAINTY. HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH SIMON SNOW. That’s. That’s fucking narrative poetry. But there was no conflict BETWEEN THEM. I mean, obviously, there was conflict, and they didn’t just smoothly transition from one thing to another, but like. HOPELESSLY IN LOVE. Meanwhile Simon in the background: IDK seemed like a good idea to kiss him? He’s only my enemy and a vampire and whatnot? I’ve never actually fallen in love slowly so I don’t know if it was an accurate depiction, but it was cute as fuck and I guess that’s all that matters.

SIMON GAVE UP HIS MAGIC FOR HIS BOYFRIEND (and the world) (that his boyfriend lives in) (I’m also stealing this linguistic quirk from the author because I fucking can and no one can stop me)

*squees into hands* I need to end this. I guess I’m following blogs. If you know of anything that regularly posts about the series, please, put me out of my misery. I need content. Simon and Baz Say Stupid Shit Daily quote spam or something. I don’t even know. I do know that, probably, this tops the list. It’s not naruto, but it’s some of the best canon I’ve ever fooled around in. The only thing I was thinking of ficcing was Simon actually staying over for the holidays and then! he fucking did that sO I guess my fic writing ass needs to finish my fic in other waters. This book is like . . . an important gay milestone or something. It has everything I want, and nothing I don’t. It even ace reads really well, which makes my heart hurt. God. Anyway. Good fucking night people of various genders. I need to like, chill. Deep breaths lavender. Don’t die flipping out about wizards and vampires.

#personal #carry on by rainbow rowell #caps

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saaranghaeyo · 6 years

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Get to Know Me

Thanks for the tag, @xpastelgrungeheartx

Rules: answer 30 questions then tag some people you’d like to get to know better.

Gender: ♀

Nickname: “Miss” because I’m a teacher

Zodiac: Gemini

Height: 152cm (if I round up I’m 5’0 but technically... 4’11.8 feet)

Time: 20:59

Favorite bands/soloists: Blackpink and Little Mix are my true loves right now. I also love EXID and Red Velvet.

Song stuck in my head: Boombayah by Blackpink (specifically - ‘click clack botta bing botta boom’. Also this one line from Forever Young: 오늘이 가도 후회 없게

Last movie I saw: I don’t remember, it’s been a crazy busy week. I watched a couple of horror movies recently to pass the time. I watch TV more often, the last TV I watched was the season 2 finale of Westworld.

Any other blogs: No

Do I get asks: Very rarely but feel free to throw them at me.

Why my username: I’m a huge fan of the character Daisy Johnson and I think she deserves better - DaisyCampbell-Johnson references her former love interest, Lincoln Campbell, who was the only one who gave a shit about her autonomy and wellbeing.

Last thing I google: Bohemian Rhapsody (the song, not the movie)

Following: I’m following 49 and I have 322 followers

How many hours of sleep: Hahahahahahahahahaha. Whatever I can get between work. Usually closer to 5 hours (like yesterday) hence me living on four-packs of Red Bull.

What am I wearing: Pyjamas!

Do I play any instruments: No. I used to play the violin but gave it up because I wasn’t allowed to play songs that interested me.

Learning any languages: I’m learning Korean.

Favorite show/s: Agents of SHIELD (for Daisy), Mr. Robot (FOR EVERYTHING, MY FEELS, CAN TYRELLIOT HAVE A SCENE NOW?) Gotham (for EVERYTHING), Westworld (but mainly for everything around Maeve and her gang of kids/disciples), The 3% (a Brazilian show), Black (a Korean show), Jessica Jones, The Defenders, The Walking Dead (occasionally - it’s pissing me off), all of Tom Pelphrey’s scenes in Iron Fist but only his scenes, Wynonna Earp (especially for Wayhaught), Game of Thrones, Santa Clarita Diet (this should be earlier in my list, I can’t believe I forgot it), Daredevil (especially for Elektra), Glitch (it’s Australian). I also enjoy iZombie, Riverdale and Shadowhunters, although not as much as the others I just mentioned. I watch too much TV. Oh, and The Gifted. I also really love The Tunnel (French/British), although I am MAD BEYOND BELIEF about what happened in season 2.

Dream job: My dream job used to be to be a writer but now I want to do something that really helps people. I would love to work for Stonewall or something similar but I don’t think I could live on charity wages.

Favorite color: Bright colours. I wear a lot of mustard for work. I love bright, flamboyant, nearly-flourescent pink.

Favorite song: Secret Love Song - Little Mix (for the emotion). Boombayah - Blackpink (for the dance party)

How many animals: None!

Do I play any video games: Yeah! PC

Favorite video game: Mass Effect 2 & Skyrim

What color hair do I have: Bright red

What grade am I in: I’m actually a high school teacher

Am I morning person: HAHAHAHA no

Where would I like to travel: Tokyo & Seoul - I have plans for around the next Olympics!

Siblings: One half sister and one half brother, I don’t really know/see them though

Favorite food: Tandoori

I am tagging mutuals (I think) who I don’t know and have never talked to. Eep. @eliseswassermann for bi pride reasons & being the only person I’ve ever seen who actually watched The Tunnel @thelegendarydragonwarrior because your posts always entertain me (at least the ones in English) @thesillybus for Daisy reasons

If you (don’t) want to be tagged or you’ve already done it, please let me know.

#me #tag

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hotsterfield · 7 years

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200 followers - Spider-Man

Word count: 1695

A/N: To celebrate hitting 200 followers, i stayed up kinda late, writing this! It’s really bad, but i really wanted to get something out tonight! Hopefully i can make it up to you in the weekend, but so far this is better than nothing. But again, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

It was just a normal Friday morning, but you could hardly get out of bed. Last night you had been so busy with your writing, that you completely forgot the time. You managed to get your story posted, and you had thought about going to bed, but then you started texting some of your friends overseas. To say the least, you didn’t get enough sleep, maybe about 5 hours.

You looked at your phone, to hit the snooze button, and as soon as the alarm was gone from the screen, you could see all the notifications from the night. Your Tumblr had completely blown up overnight. You suddenly felt much more awake, and you quickly checked the app, to see that you now had over 200 followers.

You couldn’t help but smile. 200 people! 200 people liked your writing! You didn’t even wait for the next alarm to go off, because right now you were more than awake. You simply could not wipe the smile of your face. You went through your daily morning routine, and for the first time every you were actually in good time. You didn’t see much of your parents that morning, but you never did in the morning.

As you walked into the school, you realized you were still in good time. This was new for you, since you almost always were late. You couldn’t help it, your bed was just too comfortable! As you walked towards your locker, your eyes spotted Ned and Peter. As you neared them, you saw their confused eyes.

“You’re early. And in a good mood” Ned said suspiciously. “Either you killed someone, or you didn’t go to bed yet” He continued, and you glared at him jokingly. “I’m just in a good mood, that’s all!” You smiled. Part of you wanted to tell them, because you were really excited about reaching 200 followers, but you also liked having the secret. You felt like you were living a secret life on Tumblr. Well that, and you had an idea that they wouldn’t exactly understand why you were spending your time writing about Spider-Man.

“Are you planning on killing someone? Because I’ve never seen you smile before noon. Well once, but you were eating. You’re not eating, it’s not even 8 yet, you have math now, a subject you hate. There’s something really strange going on, if you’re smiling before a math class” Peter continued, and you sighed.

“If you guys keep going like this, I might end up killing someone” The bell went off before they had a chance to answer, and you went into the class you hated, math.

***

“Y/n, spill it. Why are you so happy? Did you finally meet Spider-Man?” Michelle asked after math. She had noticed too. Michelle was one of your old friends. She was the reason you had transferred to Midtown a couple of years ago. You had known her for as long as you could remember.

“You know that tumblr blog I made a little while ago?” You asked her shyly. You were always shy when it came to these things. “Oh, the one you’ve been so busy for, that you haven’t done your math homework in the last few weeks? I remember” She smiled at you, rolling her eyes.

“Well. This morning, I kinda reached 200 followers” You said proudly as you neared the table, where the boys were already sitting. “Damn girl. You’re about to become a real author!” Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at her.

“You told Michelle? Why can Michelle know, when we can’t? That’s not fair! I want to know too!” Peter whined, and you laughed. “She had a blog where she writes stories, and she just got 200 followers” Michelle spilled, and playfully hit her. She wasn’t supposed to tell them that. You didn’t mind them knowing that part of it, but knowing Ned and especially Peter, you know that they would want to read it, and you were definitely not ready for that.

“That’s a lot!” Ned exclaimed. “Can I read it?” Peter quickly asked. “No! You can’t” You answered. “So, you post it online, but me. Your friend, can’t read it?” He challenged.

“I sent you guys a link to her blog. Sorry y/n, but it’s actually really good! I don’t get why you’re so shy about it” Michelle interrupted before you could answer Peter. You wanted to hide, this was so embarrassing.

“You write about Spider-Man?” Peter asked with a smirk on his face. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “y-yeah. Why not write about a hero, when we actually got one?” You stuttered, and you bit your lip nervously.

“These are love stories! Dude! You totally got a crush on him!” Ned said, a little too loud for your liking. “No I don’t! I just. No. No… He’s just interesting, that’s all. There’s nothing else to write about” You looked down, trying to hide your red cheeks.

“Peter know Spider-Man!” Ned continued, making you look up at Peter. “Though the Stark internship!” Peter hurried to say.

“Don’t you dare show him this! I warn you Peter, I will kill you!” Your eyes were wide, but you were still half-heartedly joking. “Maybe he’ll find it by himself. I can’t promise he don’t know about this” Peter tried to send you a smirk, but he ended up blushing a bit too.

***

“Have you even looked into law school?” Your mom asked with a raised voice. You had vaguely mentioned something about wanted to be a writer, and both of your parents had gotten a bit mad. It was always like this. They said they would support you, no matter what, but they really just wanted you to go to law school, and then work for your father.

“Yes, and I don’t want that! You want that! That’s your dream, but this is my life! Shouldn’t I be the one choosing?!” You asked frustrated. You just wanted someone to actually support you in your dreams. Every time you hoped your parents would finally do it, but every time it ended in a fight.

“Not when we’re paying! I just don’t believe you would be able to get by being an author. If you become a lawyer, you’ll be sure of having a job!” It was always the same argument. The same reason to go to law school.

“But I want to be happy! I’m not going to be happy working in law!” This was always your response. This whole argument was getting kind of old to you. “You won’t know that, till you try! Why can’t you just give it a chance?!”

“Because I want to give writing a chance! Why can’t you let me do that?!” You were now yelling. This had destroyed your day completely. “Because you need to stop dreaming, and get realistic! You need to grow up, and take responsibility for your life!” Your mother slammed her hand against the table, and you knew you were both too angry to even speak for the rest of the night.

“Just forget it!” You yelled, as you walked towards your bedroom, and slammed the door. You took your sketch book and your pencil case, and climbed out the window, onto the fire escape. You leaned your back against the cold wall, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“You okay, there?” You heard a voice say next to you, and you let a little shriek as you looked to your left, to see the one and only Spider-Man. “I-i-i-i. eh. I-I’m fine” You stuttered, still not understanding that he was next to you.

“You don’t sound okay. I can take care of emotional problems too, you know? So what’s the matter?” He asked, as he sat down next to you, almost touching you.

“I. Well. I” You took a deep breath, and tried to calm down a little. “My parents want me to law school, and I don’t want to. I want to be a writer, but my mother don’t believe I can make it” You confessed, looking away from him. You felt foolish, he had better things to do, than listen to you.

“Of course you can! You’re good! I think you can do it!” You looked up at him in horror. Did he know? How could he possibly know who you were? “Yes, I know about you’re tumblr, and I’m really flattered. Especially the, what did you call it, smut?” You could feel you cheeks turning red. This was the most embarrassing thing to ever happen in your life.

“I’m going to kill Peter” You mumbled. You didn’t have time to react, before you felt your hands stick against the wall. You looked at the spandex wearing superhero, who were now in front of you.

“I can’t let you kill anyone” He said, as he slowly pulled his masked up slightly, reviling his mouth. “besides. There’s something else I really wanted to do. It’s kinda the reason I’m here” He said, as he slowly moved his head closer to yours. He lifted the mask completely off, and you stared right into the familiar brown eyes. “If it’s okay with you?” He spoke slowly, as you felt his breath on your skin.

You gave a little nod, before he put his lips on yours. You were hit by shock, and took some time to respond the kiss, but when you finally did, you could feel Peter smile. As he pulled away, the smile was still on your lips.

“I. How? You, Spider-Man? What?” You couldn’t form a complete sentence, and you felt more confused than ever. You had just kissed Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. Your secret crush, who somehow turned out to already be your friend, and who have read the stuff you wrote about him? You could might as well just jump of the fire escape right now, because thing’s couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.

“It’s a long story. And being honest, I kind of enjoyed us not talking” He smiled, as he moved closer to you once more, and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks once again.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spider man #spider man imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Swamp Thing Annual #7: The Children’s Crusade

Tefé meets Jimmy Savile.

I don't know why this comic book isn't with all of the other Children's Crusade comic books. I guess I'm terrible at organizing my comic books (I say as if it's a debatable opinion while two stacks of random comic books sit on the book shelf next to a comic book short box empty of all but envelopes and bills to be shredded). So now this comic book won't make much sense and when I finally find the box with my other Children's Crusade comic books, I'll have forgotten this story and will become confused by the missing chapter. I'm a little bit upset about this. But I won't be upset for long because earlier I noticed I have some Kid Eternity comic books in this stack and guess who wrote Kid Eternity? Ann Nocenti! Holy shit, I can't wait to read that oubliette full of earnest confusion. This is the exact middle chapter of the story. But I don't think I'll be too confused because I remember how the Dead Boy Detectives were searching for the Free Country where all the endangered and abused children wind up. It was easy to remember that once I read "The Story So Far..." bit at the beginning. Tefé has found herself alone in the swamp because Swamp Thing and Lady Jane and Abby Arcane are all on adventures. Unless they're dead. I wasn't reading Swamp Thing back then. I don't think I ever read Swamp Thing. I know! I'm like the greatest comic book reviewer on the Internet and I've never read Alan Moore's "The Anatomy Lesson." It's possible that in another blog post somewhere in my thousands of blog posts I pretended that I read it. But that would probably have been early on when I was worried that people wouldn't take me seriously if I started announcing having not read a bunch of the landmark comic book series. I also never read that Green Arrow where Speedy was caught sucking dick for heroin. And I never read Miller's Daredevil or Batman: Year One. Also I never read any major Marvel moment prior to the late 90s. Unless Wolverine and Kitty Pryde was one of those titles. My friend Philip Newby had the limited series scattered all over his living room floor and I scrounged them all up and read them. It should go without saying that I don't remember them. I'm like that. Why should I remember the genius things I read when I can't even remember all of the genius things I write?! Puck arrives to take Tefé to the Free Country because he's a nice guy who only wants the best for all the children of the world. Roland and Paine, the Dead Boy Detectives, arrive moments too late to follow them. Looks like they'll have to try following Dorothy Spinner over in the Doom Patrol annual. Speaking of Dorothy Spinner, I can't wait until the second season of DC Universe's Doom Patrol! Bring on the Candlemaker!

Seems like a decent place, housing kids from the Holocaust, kids working out of coal mines, kids being sexually abused. Why then am I so suspicious of it?!

Like most annuals and stories about children, this tale has bored the ever-living joy out of me. Hopefully nobody is reading this and just thought, "Oh yeah? Cry me a river! I just got diagnosed with cancer!" Because then I'd have to admit that I care more about my level of boredom than somebody else's life and death situation. The washed-out kid with Mark Buckingham face explains how Free Country began during the Crusades which isn't surprising because the entire idea of the Crusades should have been enough to cancel Catholicism. I tend to get annoyed with people who infantilize homo sapiens from hundreds or thousands of years in the past, as if our ability to understand the world around us only kicked off some time around the Industrial Revolution. But then I think about some of the atrocious things people did in the name of religion and I think maybe those people should be seen as less formed than modern people. But then I also think about how beautiful works of Gothic architecture were created by these people and I reach this conclusion: homo sapiens have always had the potential to create great and beautiful works while simultaneously having the potential for great cruelty fueled by greed, selfishness, and paranoia. It is only the coming together of those two things that could have built Notre-Dame. At least the cruelty toward "lesser" men was focused to create something beautiful in the cases of cathedrals whereas sometimes the cruelty was as simply front facing as sending as many people as possible to die in a foreign land for nearly no other reason than to kill as many different people as they could who already lived there. And then I remember that modern homo sapiens aren't really any different but when is the last time we built a fucking magnificent cathedral?! Oh, sure, we sent people to the moon! But I can't visit the moon while simultaneously being scolded by a German or French priest to remove my Goddamned hat.

This spoon sent me down a YouTube rabbit hole beginning at the opening theme to Vegetable Soup (because it had a funky cartoon spoon as host) and ended at The Banana Splits credits where I learned in the comment section that in 2019 there was a Banana Splits horror movie. Now I'm mad at everybody I know for not telling me about this.

Tefé and Maxine go on some mini-Lord of the Rings journey to destroy some goblin and save Free Country. They use their powers over vegetables and animals to save the day and everybody cheers. I don't know why Free Country, a safe haven for children, also includes an evil land full of evil Gobble-You-Ups. I guess you need some sort of conflict to distract the child populace from whatever true evil is going on in this place. The leaders of Free Country probably drink children's blood to survive. It turns out it was all a game and then Tefé almost dies because she's been away from the Green too long. The kids reluctantly send her back home so that she doesn't die but Maxine decides to stay so she can have an adventure with Dorothy Spinner. Swamp Thing Annual #7: The Children's Crusade Rating: I don't rate annuals. If I have rated an annual in the past, it was a mistake and/or a hallucination. Also there's a second story after the first one that I haven't read yet because I forgot about it. And since I've already stopped this review with the ratings paragraph, I will not be discussing it even if it has street walking flowers in pumps and bell bottom jeans wearing flower Johns and ends with Flower Superbaby being sent into space. Also there is a third story that I didn't forget about because I just realized it exists. It's a retelling of The Beauty and the Beast. Speaking of The Beauty and the Beast, I was recently told that Gaston in the live action Beauty and the Beast was gay and my reaction was, "So he wanted Belle as a beard?" And the answer was, "Yes. That is the plot." And now I can't bare to watch it because if that isn't true, I will be devastated.

#Swamp Thing #DC Comics #DC #Vertigo #The Children's Crusade

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hidden-giggles · 7 years

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Story Time! A large compilation of IRL stories

So that “True Tickling Story Asks racked up a fair few requests, a great many of them repeats. The only people I can tag for this response are @crispysoultimemachine, @undermyfeather, and @lettheworldtickleyou. For all y’all anons, I hope you see these! Some overlap, so I may double up, don’t hate me?

Also shoutout to my FAVORITE Halloween film of all time Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh the filth it involves. If you haven’t been to a live showing, go. I just went to another one and it just doesn’t get old. Pop that Rocky Cherry!

And so it begins! Click to see my adventures below the cut. Featured below, thought perhaps combined will be: 7. A time tickling went on longer than you wanted it to 8. A time someone held down your feet and tickled them 11. The most intense unintentional tickling you’ve ever endured 12. The most embarrassing tickling experience you’ve ever had 13. A time you were tickled in front of people 17. A time you tried to get yourself tickled 20. Your most ticklish pedicure 22. A time you were tickled in a public setting 24. A time you were asked to take off your shoes and it made you legitimately nervous 30. A time someone pulled your shoes off and tickled your feet 32. A time you tickled someone only to bait them into tickling you back

You’ve decided to brave this novel of a post? Well bless your heart. A portion of this will be out of order and covering parts of an 8 hour adventure with this asshole Josh I’m embarrassingly fond of. If you’re reading this, and I’m sure you are, try not to read into this too much or get too pleased. I’ll find a way to achieve revenge and you know it.

And so, starting this saga are numbers 7, 8, 12, 13, 22, and 30.

This summer in Paris, I had the pleasure of hanging out with Josh and showing him some of the sights around the 1st, 4th, and 12th arrondissements (sections of the city) and ordering the stuff we wanted in French. Bless his American heart 😛 But my foyer (dorm I guess?) was women only, and we weren’t about to bug his roommate, so for some 8 hours, we wandered some of my favorite and familiar parts of the city! Which also involved a lot, and I mean a lot of public play that flustered the hell out of me the entire time. And it was fun! But sometimes super duper embarrassing. For the first 45 minutes or so, we were chilling on the banks of the Seine in the 4th arr., just across the way from the islands in the center. We had some prosecco (Italian version of champagne), we relaxed, we chatted, totally surrounded by the dozens of other people doing the same on the grass and in the bars behind us. That did not, however, stop him from making me giggle like mad from head to toe, and I mean that literally. In a number of positions too, the worst of which involved me between his legs and leaning back, his thighs pinning my hands completely. He could reach everything, and I just about reached peak pitch in giggles. And then the ass made it worse. You see, my mouth ran rampant in France. I could say whatever I wanted in English because the kids didn’t know enough to be corrupted and only a portion of the adults knew enough English to understand. Even fewer cared. So when I begged calmly requested he cease fire, I was told to ask in French. The language people actually understood across the board. If people weren’t staring before (they were and it was so much worse knowing that), they were much more aware when I was, 1, begging en francais and 2, not getting my promised pause until a bit longer afterwards because he claimed he couldn’t understand me. I thought I might die, either from overheating with my massive blush or lack of breath for giggling and squealing myself to death. Oh god was I embarrassed, more than ever before, and more thoroughly played like a gosh darn fiddle. So I suppose the beginning of the evening covers numbers 7, 12, 13, and 22. Time skip like 4 hours. Apparently humans require food to function. I must have forgotten to read the “How to be Normal” manual because I had some bread at maybe 8 a.m. and then I didn’t really eat. But I had tea so I was totally hydrated! This is kind of common, my tum just doesn’t hold too much. But Josh, bless him, was less than pleased upon discovering that at midnight. And what’s open in Paris at midnight? Well, in the 1st arr. by the Hotel de Ville, it’s McDo, or McDonald’s. Bet y’all didn’t expect a cultural lesson with a tickling story, did you? And so, at midnight in the center of Paris in early August, we sat in a mostly empty McDonald’s munching on fries. And suddenly, my leg isn’t sitting still but rather being lifted, and shifted, and settled in his lap under the table. And my flip flop is coming off. And my heart stops. Oh god no no no no no, we are in an eating establishment, however casual it may be, being kicked out for disrupting the peace and being less than totally sanitary was not on my to-do list of rules I wanted to break while abroad (don’t follow my lead, learn from my example guys). I tried to pull my foot away, to put it back on the floor even without my shoe, but no such luck. I ankle was held tightly in place, I was stuck, even as his fingers started wiggling over my arches. I was biting my tongue, squeezing my eyes shut, shaking my leg and curling my toes, and I was still a squealing little mess. I begged, desperately, and after a short period of time I secured out exit from the restaurant and got my shoe back for the moment. But oh was I a nervous, flustered little thing. And that’s 8 and 30 for you! This doesn’t cover the entirety of the evening, and I don’t intend to, but those are some snippets to cover my bases!

On 24, I’m thankful to say I don’t recall being explicitly instructed to remove my shoes for any purpose that gave me reason to fear. If my shoes come off, it’s usually of my own volition and conception both.

Numbers 17 and 32 are another combination because I both attempted and succeeded, naturally. I have this nasty tendency to get what I want. Oops 😘🤗 It was a casual day last year in my dorm, and I was in a lounge watching a movie with a couple friends. One was a sister/good friend, the other a a good guy friend. Both knew I was sensitive, but my sister totally isn't when she doesn't want to be (like WTF I still don't know how she controls it?!). However, my dear friend totally is. It's super adorable. I didn't start it, but I totally didn't stop her when she starting poking at his stomach and he started squirming and trying to catch her hands. I was initially staying out of it because I didn't have a death wish, but he was between the two of us and it was just too easy because he couldn't fight the both of us, at least not well. Eventually I got the threat: "You're way worse than me! Keep doing that and you WILL get it back ten times as bad." It was effective for a bit, getting me to stop. And then a little poke. And then a couple more. Casual, spaced out, sneaky. No repercussions. I thought I had escaped, which felt like both victory and defeat. My sister had to go to some meeting, so it was just me and my friend. There was about 30 seconds of silence, just watching whatever movie was on - I couldn't tell you for the life of me what it was. And then: "Okay this has been a long time coming." I've never seen him move that quickly, but his arms shot out and his hands were tickling my stomach and sides before I had time to move or block. And oh was he right, I did get it ten times worse than I gave. For like 15 minutes. Of course he was terribly pleased the entire time I was writhing and squealing - apparently I make entertaining noises and he continues to point that out. It was the worst great kind of thing to happen on a lazy Saturday.

I know I'm totally and completely out of order on these, but hey, why not go with number 11 now? It was a girl's night, with PJs and cookie dough and pizza and I may or may not have been a little tipsy. It was just a little teeny tiny bit of a floaty feeling, I swear! But now I must regrettably inform you, darling reader, how sensitive I can be. Not always! But sometimes it's really bad. So picture this: I'm lounging on the couch, surrounded by my three or four friends, and one casually comments she likes my toenail polish color. Which would be fine and dandy—I was pretty fond of my signature OPI Big Apple Red too—if she didn't touch it. She didn't touch my skin, or even near it. She rubbed the polish on my big toe nail. And I still squeaked, my eyes wide as saucers, my toes curled, and biting my lip hard. Everyone in the room stopped and looked at me, most surprised and a little quizzical. "Are you really that ticklish? Oh my god." And so she did it again, and I jumped. And again, repeatedly, and I started squirming and trying to hold back giggles. And then she touched my toes and arches and I lost any sense of what was going on except for the fact that my friends were figuring out, some for the first time, how outrageously ticklish I am and having fun with it. I squirmed so much, desperate for an end to my embarrassed and unavoidable giggling, that I didn't realize it stopped until my feet were very warm. I opened my eyes. I had literally shoved my feet underneath my friend while she was sitting because her as was protecting them. It was shocking and hilarious enough that she did stop, but the damage had been done. All too many people know about how sensitive I am.

And finally, number 20 is about a pedicure. Which I've already written about. Fairly extensively throughout my blog. No offense, but if you want it you’re welcome to go searching because I’ve written a ton here already. Cool beans?

Thanks for tuning in! If you're interested in me verbalizing any of these experiences, feel free to check out my commission guidelines as they currently stand and pop onto my Ko-Fi with your request! Or just message me your business proposal, direct and upfront about your intentions in my DMs or inbox.

#about me #irl #irl story #sfw #rip rosie #ask me meme #anon #ask #answer #crispysoultimemachine #undermyfeather #lettheworldtickleyou

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licieoic · 8 years

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Deleted Scenes

I decided to post the deleted scenes from A Marriage of Convenience here! After all, why not, it’s my blog, it’s my story. ^_^ No idea how many people will be interested in reading these, but here they are anyway. :P

The following scenes under the cut - Harold Saxon, Viscount Oakdown, persuades Lady Rose Tyler that he intends to mend his friendship with Baron John Smith, called ‘the Doctor’ by his friends and ‘Theta’ by the Viscount. But his motives are far from friendly. (This is what happened in the three days that the Doctor and Donna were traveling to and from London.)

Warnings - kidnapping, firearms, threats of torture, violence, some blood, non-con touching. Basically lots of whump and angst, all the stuff I just skipped over in the fic. The Master is NOT a fun guy in this story.

It was nearing the dinner hour when Wilf came to Rose, announcing that a caller had arrived to see her. Perplexed as to who could be calling so late, she brushed off her simple green-sprigged day dress to make certain she was presentable and went to the sitting room where the unexpected guest was waiting.

She recognized him immediately. “Viscount Oakdown,” she said in surprise. “Whatever are you doing here?”

He bowed over her hand. “Lady Tyler, I apologize,” he said, the picture of contrition. “For coming here unannounced and uninvited at such a late hour. And also for my rudeness the last time we met. I’m afraid I was not in a right mind, blinded by my grief and anger that I’ve held onto for so long.”

Rose blinked a few times, unsure how to accept his apology when it was the Doctor who should really be hearing it. “Well, I… Your arrival is unexpected, but not unwelcome as long as I may trust you have something of significance to say.”

“Indeed I do.”

She indicated the sofa and sat down in an armchair herself, prepared to hear him out.

He settled himself and leaned forward. “Seeing Theta again unleashed a number of emotions in me,” he confessed. “Most of them lodged in old hurts, but many of them fond. Nostalgic. As he told you, he and I were once like brothers and if he can see fit to forgive my past behavior, perhaps we may find that relationship again. Will you help me plead my case, Lady Tyler? I know he will listen to you.”

Rose smiled, pleased that the Doctor might regain his lost friendship. “I would be more than happy to speak on your behalf, my lord, but I’m afraid it will have to wait. The Doctor just left for London today.”

His forehead creased. “Oh, dear.”

She tilted her head. “What is it?”

“I saw an accident up the road on my way here,” he said. “It looked like a wheel had broken and the carriage had tumbled off the road and halfway into the river. You don’t suppose that could have been Theta?”

Rose’s heart slammed against her ribcage. No. This couldn’t happen. Not so soon after the Doctor had spoken of his love for her. She couldn’t even think about what this meant for Tardis Manor, all she could focus on was the Doctor and Donna, potentially lost to her forever.

She surged to her feet, pulse hammering rapidly in her throat. “You don’t really think so?”

He lifted his brows, indicating he wasn’t sure. “It looked an awful lot like the carriage you took to my estate…”

She was already running for the door. Oakdown quickly followed her, keeping stride at her heels as she ran down the hall for the main foyer.

“Allow me to help you, my lady,” he said. “My carriage is right outside.”

“Yes! Thank you, yes!”

She didn’t even bother stopping to pull on a cloak, she ran right outside to the waiting carriage, completely ignoring Wilf who called out, asking her to wait.

Oakdown followed her into the coach, advising his driver, the same swarthy man that Rose had seen at the viscount’s gatehouse, “Drive on. Fast as you can.”

Once they were clear of Tardis Manor’s grounds, Rose had her face in the window, looking out as far as she could, searching for the accident he’d mentioned. “How far is it?”

He reached into his jacket. “Farther than you think.”

She turned to look at him and her eyes widened as she saw the pistol he was pointing at her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting back in her seat, her eyes never leaving the firearm.

“There was no accident,” he said. “This was all just a ruse to get you to come with me.”

“Yes, I guessed that.” She swallowed, trying to think of a way out that wouldn’t end in her getting shot.

“Don’t bother trying to entreat my coachman for help,” he advised. “He’s paid very well to do whatever I say.”

“I don’t understand, we were both at your estate the other day. Why didn’t you try anything then? Why all the cloak and dagger?”

“Because you ruined my initial plan,” he said. “You were supposed to leave him once you’d heard what he did.” He made it sound like she’d been in on it and hadn’t followed through.

“But why are you doing this now? To make him think I’ve run off?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Oh, no, no. Collecting you was just a means to an end, my dear. The next stage of my plan, if you will.”

“Why not just shoot the Doctor and be done with it?” It was the last thing she wanted, of course, but she had to know his reasons behind kidnapping her.

His gray eyes betrayed a fiendish light. “I don’t just want Theta dead, Lady Tyler. I want him destroyed.”

Rose was suddenly aware that this man was completely mad. To have gone to such extreme lengths to manipulate her, to concoct such a convoluted scheme to enact his revenge, he was utterly around the bend.

He sat back with a little smile. “I really ought to thank you. I’ve been trying to hunt down where Theta disappeared to for years. It wasn’t until I saw your engagement notice that I located him again.”

Oh, God, she thought in horror. This is my fault. If she hadn’t needed the Doctor, he could have remained in obscurity. She took a breath, knowing one had to be very careful around mad people.

“I see.” She knew she wouldn’t be able to predict his behavior, but she thought if she could just maintain a facade of politeness, he wouldn’t feel inclined to get violent with her. “So, the end justifies the means, then, my lord?” she asked, striving to tamp down her inner panic and remain calm.

“Exactly,” he said with a twisted smile, as if happy that she understood him. “I will take everything from him that he loves and skewer him right through the heart.” As he spoke, he leaned forward, pressing the tip of the pistol to Rose’s chest, the gunmetal cold against her breastbone. “It just happens that you are where he keeps it.”

---

Oakdown kept one hand on the pistol and the other on the door handle of the coach the entire way, to ensure Rose wouldn’t jump out. Not that she would. She’d considered it, but even if he managed not to shoot her, the carriage was traveling so fast, she wasn’t certain that she would survive a jump. For the time being, she waited and watched for an opening.

Once they reached the estate, he descended first and reached in to drag her out, holding her arm in a vice-like grip. She attempted to struggle, but stopped once he had the pistol trained on her again. As he pulled her up the steps to the main entrance, she heard the carriage drive off behind them. She twisted her head to watch it go, taking note of the direction in case she managed to get away. There was still a chance that she could escape and just take a horse.

The viscount marched Rose into the manor and through the first door they came to, which happened to be a sitting room. He turned the key in the lock and threw Rose toward a sofa while he pocketed the key. She fell against the red-striped couch and glared at him as she turned to take her seat. With the door locked, that left a single window on the opposite wall as her only potential exit, and it was currently shut.

“Now,” he said, moving across the room to the lit fireplace. “We are going to have a little talk.”

She squirmed uncomfortably as he banked the flames with a pointed poker, stirring them up to a brighter blaze, but he never fully turned his back to her. Leaving the poker in the fire, he grabbed a straight backed chair standing nearby. He dragged it over in front of Rose and sat down so quickly, she shot back in her seat with a gasp, shocked by his sudden nearness.

“You are going to tell me when dear Johnny is returning from London.”

“No, I’m not,” she said immediately. He truly had to be insane if he really thought she would co-operate with him. She would never willingly subject the Doctor to whatever torment his former friend had in mind.

He gave her a condescending smile. “I thought you might say that, but trust me when I say, you really don’t want to make this more difficult for yourself.”

He waited, but Rose still maintained her silence and instead, squared her jaw in defiance. Oakdown heaved a great, put-upon sigh, pushing his chair back as he stood. He ambled back toward the fireplace as though each step was exhausting.

“I had you looked into,” he said. “I studied you.” Leaning down, he picked up the poker he’d left in the flames and looked at the hot tip of it meaningfully. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He stabbed the poker back in the fire and Rose couldn’t help a flinch. “How interesting to find out what became of your family, but even more so was what came after.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Slowly, she crept toward the edge of her seat, trying to keep her eyes on him and not toward the window.

“Is it really true that you went months before being able to light a single match?” he asked. “Do you remember the heat and smoke? The fear?” He grabbed the poker and brandished it toward her, the pointed end just beginning to glow red. “Let’s find out.”

Rose lunged over the low table in front of her, knocking over the straight-backed chair as she went, hoping to put it in his way. Oakdown leapt over the small hindrance, whipping the poker over his head, he slammed it down on the windowsill a mere moment before she would have touched the sash. The pane of glass gave an angry rattle and the gash he left in the wood smoldered faintly.

She backed away from the hot metal, hardly able to breathe. The edges of her vision were darkening, narrowing her focus to the weapon in his hand. She knocked into an armchair and fell over one of the arms into an awkward position on her back. Oakdown was on her before she could right herself, pinning her down with his hand on her throat, the other hand holding the poker aloft.

“Alright, enough. When is your sweet fiance going to return?” he asked again, his voice roughened from the chase.

For one moment, she held. Hoping she would pass out. When he made a move to stab her with the poker, however, she squeezed her eyes shut and blurted out, “Day after next!”

Smiling, he straightened and went to toss the poker back in the fire. “There. Not so hard.”

He retrieved the pistol from the mantle where he’d left it and returned to her in the time it took for her to catch her breath and sit up. She gasped as he dropped a knee on the chair between her legs and leaned all his weight on her skirt, keeping her in place.

“Thank you for being so accommodating, Lady Tyler,” he said in a mockery of gentility while pressing the nose of the pistol against her jaw. “I think you’ll find I can be quite genial to a lady who co-operates.”

He roughly cupped her breast with his free hand, making her feel the imprint of each finger, even through her corset. She clutched his arm and shook her torso, a minute struggle, trying to push him off and escape his touch, but it was useless while he was effectively standing on her skirt.

“Don’t you touch me,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Struggle if you like,” he said, squeezing harder, “it might make things more interesting. Can’t promise I won’t shoot you in the leg.”

He observed her trembling and smiled, lifting his hand to touch her face. The tenderness in the gesture made her stomach turn and she hoped she might be sick all over him.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he crooned. I won’t do anything too horrible. Not til Theta arrives anyway. There’s no real point if he’s not here to see it.”

---

Oakdown hadn’t done anything more than paw at her that first night, before locking her in a cellar. It had been so dark, all she’d been able to do was grope her way to the bottom of the stairs, curl up on the floor, and attempt to rest. She thought she’d drifted off a handful of times, but she’d been too cold, too uncomfortable, and too afraid to really sleep.

At dawn, the morning light came through the tiny windows near the ceiling, allowing her to see. The cellar was largely empty, but for a few things. There were two large steel cages at the far end that she eyed warily, wondering what they were for. The trampled straw at the bottom of the cages led her to believe animals had once been kept inside, perhaps a couple of large hunting dogs like she’d seen outside the stable the other day. There was also a large barrel full of rainwater underneath a drainage pipe to the side of the large room, so she was at least able to slake her thirst. It was still up for speculation if he planned to feed her.

It was nearing midday when the door at the top of the cellar opened.

“Sleep well, Lady Tyler?”

She glared up at him from her position on the floor and refused to dignify him with an answer.

“I don’t suppose you’re hungry?” he went on, as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation. “You’ll have to come upstairs.”

He opened the door wide and gestured that she might step past him. It was a trick, a fruitless temptation. He wanted to taunt her with the idea of freedom. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She didn’t want anything from him, despite the fact that she was hungry. She wasn’t foolish enough to trust that this offer was only about food. This was about power. When she turned her head away and maintained her silence, he sighed and closed the door, locking her in once again. Her stomach protested and she drank more water to quiet it down.

With a burning face, even though no one could see her, she relieved herself in a corner of the cellar. She wanted to remove her corset very much; actually, she wanted a bath, a proper bed, and to never see these clothes again. The fear of Oakdown violating her further made her stay fully dressed. Every layer was a piece of armor to hinder him.

When it began to get dark again, the door opened and he tossed half a loaf of bread down the stairs. The hard crust bounced once, then rolled the rest of the way.

“Big day tomorrow,” he said with false enthusiasm. “Can’t have you fainting on me.”

She didn’t move until he’d locked her in again, then fell on the bread loaf and began pulling it apart. He hadn’t been too far from the truth, as she’d been feeling faint for some time. If she was going to find a way to escape, she couldn’t be weak from not eating. Even so, she was glad she hadn’t given in. She’d made him bring the food to her and not the other way round. It felt like a tiny victory.

Before it was completely dark, she’d crawled into a pile of straw in the corner that hadn’t been used, as far as she could tell. It looked dingy from age, but at least it wasn’t soiled. The straw helped to keep her warmer and eventually, exhaustion claimed her.

The following day, however, Oakdown wasn’t content to let Rose remain a stoic prisoner. He came down and fetched her, prodding her forward and upstairs at the end of his pistol.

He led her to a second-story conservatory full of dead plants with lots of filthy windows to allow the thin, overcast light to fill the room. “Here we are!” he declared, forcibly sitting her down in a straight-backed chair.

Rose eyed the numerous windows. Perhaps he thought she wouldn’t attempt to jump out of one of the windows if they were higher up. Though there wasn’t any snow to dampen her fall this time, she held it as an option. She already knew she could survive such a fall if it was her last choice.

Oakdown tied her arms behind her with a length of rope, then sat down before her in an overstuffed armchair, crossing one leg at the knee. He hummed thoughtfully, then reached out and pulled a couple of pieces of straw from her hair, while looking critically at her face. “I think the right side is your best.”

With that bizarre statement, he turned to a small table at his elbow and picked up a charcoal pencil, beginning to sketch on a sheaf of drawing paper.

Rose watched him for a moment, utterly perplexed by his behavior. “What are you doing?” she asked at last.

“I should think that would be obvious,” he said, glancing up at her.

“You’re… drawing me?”

He nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Why?” She didn’t expect much rationality from a madman, but she was hardly a pretty picture at the moment. Even without a mirror, she knew a lot of her hair had fallen out of her topknot and the rest of it was only loosely coiled in a lopsided bun. It probably looked like an actual bird’s nest and she felt horribly grimy from her stay in the cellar.

“How else am I going to entice Theta to dash to your side?” he asked with a fiendish smile. He frowned down at his drawing. “I really want to capture you faithfully, he needs to be able to tell who it is!” He laughed.

He was going to send her portrait to the Doctor. Her stomach gave a lurch and she tasted bile at the back of her throat. The thought was horrifying because of how calculated it was. Oakdown might have been insane, but he wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t going to send a letter demanding the Doctor’s presence, he was going to send an image of his love in captivity, the better to make him panic. Panic would make an otherwise sensible man make mistakes.

She had to get out. She had to escape. She couldn’t let the Doctor run right into this trap. Rose flexed her hands, twisting her wrists to test the rope he’d bound her with. The knots held firm, absolutely no give.

“Please hold still,” he said, as if she were sitting for a real portrait. “Your nose is not easy to draw, has anyone ever told you that?”

She huffed. He hadn’t tied her feet. She could still run. Both of his hands were occupied with sketching. She eyed the pistol lying across his lap. How fast could she run from the room before he had a chance to pick it up and shoot? Without knowing how good a shot he was, she didn’t know if odds were in her favor that he might miss.

What if she could get him to use the shot? Then she could run while he attempted to reload. Maybe she could charge him and knock over his chair with her bodyweight. It was a big risk and she might fall down or he might grab her. That wouldn’t work.

She resisted the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. She had to get out of there, but it seemed impossible.

Oakdown sighed at his drawing and looked up at Rose. “Something’s not quite right,” he said. “Could you try to look less angry and more… I don’t know, despairing?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure this is just what your sister would have wanted you to make of your life,” she spat.

Slowly, he set down his charcoal. “Be very careful, Lady Tyler,” he said. His hand was shaking.

“Elise would be ashamed,” she shot back.

He was on his feet in a flash, paper scattering everywhere. The firearm clattered to the floor, but didn’t go off. “YOU DON’T SAY HER NAME!” he shouted, backhanding her across the face so hard that the chair toppled.

Rose fell to the floor, landing on her side, her ear ringing, her face an explosion of pain. Blood dripped hot from her nose. Oakdown was on top of her in the next moment, pressing her down, straddling her stomach, her arms pinned underneath her.

“No!” she screamed when he gripped her bodice in both hands and ripped it down to her waist.

When he growled in frustration at the sight of her corset, she knew she’d made the right choice in keeping it on, but he squeezed her breasts cruelly all the same, making sure it hurt, even through her underwear. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and streaked back into her hair. Even so, she wouldn’t stop fighting.

“This is how you honor her death,” she rasped. “By raping a helpless woman.”

He grabbed her by the throat and Rose feared this might be the end as the edges of her vision began sparking with white lights, but then, as suddenly as this had started, he let go. He was panting heavily and the wild light hadn’t left his eyes, but he stood up, laughing horribly.

“That was clever, Lady Tyler,” he said, stooping to pick up the pistol and a few of the pieces of paper. “But you won’t deprive me of my revenge. There will be plenty of time to punish you later.”

He reset the chair and picked her up in his arms to set her back in it, completely ignoring her struggles. He looked at her chest, her gown gaping open, and grabbed the fabric again, tearing off a large piece. The shoulder on that side fell halfway down her arm, exposing her further.

“Like I said before,” he said, knotting the length of fabric in the middle. “There’s no point in torturing you before Theta arrives.”

He forced the knot into her mouth and tied the fabric behind her head. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a silver watch and checked the time. His smile was terrible as he settled back down with his charcoal and paper.

“This is for real,” he said. “So, let’s make it a good one. Smile.”

Rose closed her eyes on more tears, her cries muffled through the gag. She’d thought if she made him angry, he might have done something foolish, or barring that, at least delay him. She’d tried, but it hadn’t done any good. She sagged in the chair, her scraggly hair sticking to the blood that had dripped from her nose. In her mind’s eye, she saw the Doctor and that special look he’d given her ever since that first day. She could almost hear him breathlessly telling her he loved her. She was so afraid.

#a marriage of convenience #deleted scenes #ficandchips #this is all going away #in the manuscript #but I thought maybe some of you #might want to read #what would have gone with the fic's story #mind the warnings #this is not a happy moment in the story #which is why I initially didn't write it #getting inside the master's head wasn't easy

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scenarios-on-ice · 7 years

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Roses are red

Violets are blue

This ‘poem’ sucks but

Happy Birthday to you

(Note: there was originally like eight more cynical lines about how birthdays mean you’re that much closer to the end, but I scrapped it because when I try to use dark humor it usually just ends up kinda gruesome.

There’s probably something wrong with me and someday we’ll find out what that is, but today is not that day)

Congratulations! @(^-^)@ You were only sixteen but your mind was older- now you’re seventeen, but I’m sure the latter part of that quote still applies and the blog will blow us all away even more than before! Hope you have a wonderful, satisfying birthday despite how non-stop you are (don’t forget to take a break when you can) and one last time, congratulations!

(also depending on how the timezone difference between Croatia and Korea works, we’re only a day or two apart- my birthday is March 30th, which is tomorrow over here! :D so cool)

“Whatever you say ma'am, Furuta will pay for his behavior! I’ll use tumblr, I’ll write under a pseudonym(Evans)- you’ll see what I can do to him!

But at least since he’s dead, you can finally speak your mind?”

I know, I still like the idea of trans Mutsuki better but other than any hints dropped in canon, I just think it’s very unlikely that TG as a Japanese manga will add a 100%, conmpletely confirmed LGBTQ character. I believe Ishida himself is pretty open towards the LGBTQ community (Nico’s portrayal is a bit questionable but in an omake Yomo is shown thinking that anyone he dates could become Touka’s aunt OR uncle (though of course that could be a translation error), Shuu is a subversion of manga stereotypes regarding gay men and TG in general has a lot of interesting themes regarding sexuality and gender), but idk, the idea of a mainstream seinen manga like TG adding LGBTQ themes that go beyond heavy implication seems unlikely (though who knows, it could happen).

Mutsuki just makes me bitter. FIrst all the arguments about their gender and now I don’t even like them anymore (they used to be an adorable cinnamon roll but after recent chapters, while I still feel for them they’ve become a lot less sympathetic).

(Also this just makes me sound salty but I recently came across a very aggressive blog dedicated to reminding everybody that MUTSKI IS MALE AND YOU ARE ALL WRONG and reading through it just made me kinda mad and irritated all at once. Once a trans person made a post saying that despite being trans themself they didn’t think Mutsuki was, offering several manga moments as decent evidence and being quite polite, and the mod of this blog answered them with what basically boils down to 'lol no it’s possible to be transphobic even if you’re part of the LGBTQ community and you are clearly one of these people’.)

Don’t worry, cinnamon roll Hinami isn’t being forgotten! :) I’m really looking forward to her meeting Akira. I’ve always liked Hina but these recent chapters pushed her up on my ‘favorite characters’ list- she’s just way too sweet.

Reading the manga: wth Ishida you are officially my least favorite person like even Isayama is better than you

Reading Ishida’s translated tweets/the comments he makes in TG extras: why are you so nice

Yeah, I kinda hated Urie at first (I understood his goals and motivations but did he really have to be such a jerk? I honestly thought he was going to get somebody killed in the auction arc) but after the auction arc I started to like him better (I think the official moment I decided ‘I like Urie Kuki as a character’ was when Shirazu died) and I kinda freaked out when I realized what happened to him…

He would make a great Burr though. I think he’s way more willing to act than Burr and is not a ‘talk less, smile more’ kind of person (more like a ‘talk less and don’t smile at all’ type) but they’re still really similar. I could also see Urie singing Wait for It…with Kaneki as Hamilton. Not because Kaneki particularly fits Hamilton but because of how Burr is clearly somewhat jealous about Hamilton’s progress despite not approving of his methods in Wait For It (in an interview about the song I think LMM said something about it describing the feeling of watching your friends and acquaintances getting so far ahead in life and thinking 'Wait for it; someday I’ll get there too’).

Am I the only one who headcanons that despite acting super classy and not knowing much about rap/hip-hop before someone (maybe Hori?) gets him to listen to it, Tsukiyama actually turns out to be a really good rapper?

Speaking of Tsukiyama though, I want to see more of his interactions with Naki

Hmm, since Mado died after he was already an adult couldn’t Akira technically count? We know from omakes that Mado was a doting father and made her childhood as happy as possible, so while her life might not have been 100% perfect it was still really good in TG terms. Takizawa before he entered the academy also counts.

but even those two had so much tragedy happen to them as adults…

(also, have you started reading the manga again? :D)

ok, that sounds creepy. Not going to be watching that.

Thank you so much for the recommendations though! Not sure if I’ll get the time to watch those but I think I saw some Magi volumes in a bookstore here so maybe I’ll check that out when I have the time!

And yeah, if you have any good animes/mangas to recommend, please do! And genre doesn’t matter- though I usually prefer dark, psychological stories I’m willing to make exceptions when the series in question is really good (that’s what I did with YoI after all :) the only genres I’m really reluctant to read are horror and high school romances).

I’m glad you liked them! And nope, don’t mind at all :D fangirling

I am back! Again, happy birthday ^^ I hope the day went well for you :) How old are you now, if you don’t mind me asking? I’m guessing it’s either 14 or 15.

And thank you very much for the poem, it’s very cute! I wouldn’t have minded the extra verses. They might’ve ruined the mood a bit, tho ^^;; The theme sounds like something baroque poems would write about... Don’t mind me, I just had an exam dealing with baroque, so I’m probably prone to making bad references to it.

I will never manage to reach your level of puns... I’ll just say that I’m very satisfied with the amount of them.

“Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he won’t come back. He died so another villain can take his place.

No matter how much I support trans Mu, I’d be very, very surprised if it actually become canon. I mean, as you’ve said, Japan and lgbt don’t quite go together that well... I guess we’ll just have to see... And nope, I still haven’t started to read the manga again. No time ^^;;

I’ve started to dislike Mu after the chapter in which his past was revealed. I just don’t have the will to stomach stories like that, honestly... Good horror/psychology manga/anime might interest me once in a while, but there’s a border I don’t like crossing. TG is waaay over it (which is probably a part of the reason why I dropped it, after all)

Gaah, it’s people like that that make dislike the lgbts... Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against people in that community and I won’t discriminate (though stuff like fictionkin and made-up pronouns do make me roll my eyes), but it’s these people that give people the wrong image about the whole community. Unfortunately, I’ve had quite a few encounters with those... aggressive people. I could go on and on about the things I saw as a part of this site, mostly concerning those ridiculous people who are probably in it because they think it’s ‘cool’ or ‘trendy’ to be bi or genderfluid. I get waaay too worked up over this theme, don’t I?

Oh, I’m so happy about her not being forgotten! She is a precious cinnamon roll and doesn’t deserve the life she has, she deserves so much better.

Boy, that sounds fun. Well, Ive had experience with the ‘reading manga’ part, but I don’t particularly follow tweets ^^;; I hope things work out in the manga!

Idk, I mean, I disliked him at first, but I got to like him very quickly. I just seem to like silent types like him (I say that, and yet I also like Phichit, Viktor, Haise and so on, who are nothing like him.... WHOOPS).

Signs that I’m slowly forgetting TG: *reading the message* ‘who... are these characters?’ I mean, I know the most important ones, like Haise, Urie, Akira and so on, but the other ones... This makes me very sad ;-;

Yeah, I guess that would make Kaneki a good Hamilton. STILL DON’T WANT BURR (COOKIE) TO KILL HIM, BECAUSE KANEKI IS A CINNAMON ROLL WHO DOESN’T DESERVE TO DIE! The dynamics between Kaneki and Urie don’t make a good Ham-Burr, but their positions in their job, so I guess they really are the best pair for Hamilton. Why did Ham have to die ;-; That makes casting so much harder for me.

Oh yeah, Tsukiyama would be an amazing rappers, I don’t doubt it at all. In fact, I’m sure that he’d be able to do Guns and Ships perfectly.

Fun fact: You made a typo saying ‘Mado died after SHE became an adult’ (I changed it) and you gave me the biggest heart attack. Pls, my phone wasn’t used to the speed with which I typed ‘TOKYO GHOUL WIKI AKIRA MADO’ to check if what you said is true. Yeah, Akira could count, I guess. That makes a total of ONE character... Not much, eh?

I don’t know if I count Takizawa... I think that the way his life is now, it very much makes up the lack of angst in his childhood.

Oh yeah, one last concern about The World Is Still Beautiful!

WHY IS THERE A CHARACTER NAMED LUNA WHO ACTS LIKE AN INSUFFERABLE BRAT DURING HER WHOLE SCREEN TIME, I DEMAND JUSTICE!

I’m done.

One last recommendation:

LOVE LIVE AKA CUTE IDOLS. I invite you to join me in the pits of idol hell :) It(s not a romance, don’t worry. Also, there’s a mobile rhythm tapping game if you’re interested :))

Ooh, I’d be so happy if you’d start reading Magi! During the later volumes, it gets reeally psychological, so I think you might like it! I’d say something, but spoilers!

Well, I’ll go add the text to the post, then ^^

#evans #tokyo ghoul anon #submission

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kyetalksshit · 7 years

Text

Update for the first time in SO LONG

Hey guys!

So it’s the 4th of july and I’m tipsy. Happy shitty ass holiday to all of u who care about it. I don’t. Fireworks are boring and sound like gunshots and loud ass cis white republican christian people get louder than usual about how “great” this country “used to be,” and get to celebrate the day this country was founded on native american genocide and rape and began an era of slavery and racism and a bunch of other motherfucking goddamn bullshit.

Anyway.

I told a storytime on my youtube channel about my ex who I called Gregg (bc he looks like Gregg Sulkin, or at least I thought he did back then. It’s actually a two parter so far. I have yet to get to the part where he dumped me over text and then tried to be friends with benefits with me, I refused, I tried, he refused, we fought a lot, repeat cycle. Wow that was a fucking shitstorm. Finally unfriended him a couple of months ago because of a shitty ass facebook post and I just didn’t have the energy anymore. Plus, he has a girlfriend now, and at this point any desire to communicate with him was based on a pure physical attraction and/or wanting to have some sort of intellectual conversation with him because, as much as I honestly still kind of resent him, I do admire his brain. Anyway.)

So when I told the storytime, I spent a good hour going through my tumblr for posts about him (and his, for posts about me, which I remember desperately hoping for back when I was still with him or right after we broke up) and it kind of made me miss blogging.

This has been the longest intro in the fucking world. Oh my god. Ugh.

Anyway.

I just kind of wanted to get on here and talk a little bit.

I don’t remember what my original pushing thought was, since again, I’m tipsy, and I got so sidetracked talking about “gregg” (though let’s be real, if any of you watch that storytime and have followed me for long enough, you know exactly who I’m talking about. He doesn’t even follow me on tumblr anymore. He unfollowed me a long time ago, actually. And now that I’m talking so much about him I’m kind of tempted to text him, which would obviously be a fucking bad idea, but you know. I’m a masochist. We’ll see what I do later I guess. I don’t know.)

I’m kind of miffed today. And by that, I mean I’m actually hurt but too prideful to say I’m hurt. My family is very clearly celebrating for this shit holiday, which they don’t know that I don’t care about, by the way, and no one even invited me. Yeah I was working most of the day but I got off at 8, and anyway I hadn’t told them I was working. My mother probably just “assumed I had to work and couldn’t make it” again. Even though she promised to make more of an effort to invite me to things. My heart hurts.

Yeah I don’t care about fireworks, but I love my family and I miss my niece and my sister isn’t talking to me because apparently I’ve changed and she misses “Amber,” not “Kye.” (Oh yeah, I go by Kye now. Just, btw.)

What she doesn’t seem to realize no matter how many times I tell her, is that Amber, that girl she grew up with that she apparently misses so goddamn much, she doesn’t exist anymore. She was a fucked up piece of shit too, if I’m being honest. I call my past self Amber instead of “past Kye” because I don’t know her anymore. You know why?

Because I’ve been through so much motherfucking goddamn bullshit since then. I was raped. I left my family for a goddamn year over some slightly shitty but WAY overexaggerated bullshit (that, let’s be real, I’ll never fully forgive myself for) that was twisted into a horror story by the evil ex whose name I can’t even fucking SAY because it makes me feel fucking nauseous. I almost killed myself a couple of times. I cut over and over and motherfucking over again because I was so goddamn depressed, I got kicked out of TWO apartments (once because my roommate was just a bitch and wanted any made up excuse she could find, the other because my alcoholic roommate who sexually assaulted me MY FIRST NIGHT THERE and who is STILL my dm for one of my dnd games and tries to pretend he fucking cares about me, hallucinated our neighbors trying to kill us and made me take him to the hospital and file a police report when it was just his goddamn mind). I’ve been so broke for the past couple years I was a camgirl for awhile. I did live camshows for money. I also sold photos and videos of me naked, sometimes taking requests. It made me fucking miserable and gave me flashbacks but I was jobless and had to pay rent. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been considering starting again because I’m broke as fuck and I want to cry from how stressed I am most of the time, but I haven’t yet. You know why?

Again, I was raped. And sexually assaulted, not just by that roommate, but also by two family members (like when I was a kid) who will remain unnamed (who never even said I’m sorry, by the way, even when I brought it up. I still hang out with one. How fucking sick do I have to be to still hang out with a family member who sexually assaulted me and apologized to my sister for touching her, but not me?). But also because I’ve been in this deep disgusting ass pit of self fucking loathing recently. I feel fat and ugly and nasty more often than not, every time I get a crush or a lust-crush on someone I start to feel guilty about it because how dare I burden someone with the weight of having to deal with my affection? I feel lonely and also selfish for feeling lonely, I miss my family but I also avoid them. And then I get upset when they don’t invite me to things.

This is the last holiday I’m ever going to spend living in North Carolina. Connor and I are leaving for Los Angeles on August fucking 5th. I’ll be around for my brother’s and my cat’s birthday (incidentally they’re both on August 2nd), but then I’m gone. I won’t be able to make it to Christmas this year because let’s face it, I won’t have the money. The soonest they’re going to see me after I leave is MAYBE Christmas 2018, and I’m not even sure that’s going to happen. Hell, I’m not even christian anymore, celebrating it feels weird.

Also, going back to this whole name shit and “I’ve changed” bullshit, Amber was an asshole. She made racist comments and used to say the “n” word back in high school. She literally laughed in boys’ faces when they asked her out if she wasn’t attracted to them, not even just because they were “out of her league” because she (rightfully) didn’t believe in “leagues,” but just because if she was going to say no, she was going to be a bitch about it. I remember one of my best friends’ little brothers asking me out in 9th grade, and he was in like 7th. He was OBVIOUSLY too young for me but I should have been fucking nice about it. Instead, I laughed at him, literally fucking laughed at him, and just said “omg bye.”

She also didn’t know how to stand up for herself. She was mousy and depressed and anxious and small and hated herself and so who gave a fuck if people used her because what good was she herself anyway? Like yeah, Kye is fatter and her mental health has gone down the fucking drain (no really, my counselor thinks I’m borderline and I really need to be medicated honestly because it’s so hard to function I’m scared I’m going to fail at trying to be alive) but at least she can mostly say no, and she can cut people out her life when she wants to. At least Kye can pinpoint when people are trying to manipulate her (though if we’re being honest here, and holy fuck we really are, since the fucking evil ex aka my rapist, my mind is warped as fucking hell and I don’t know what’s real anymore. The amount of manipulation I have imagined and overreacted to is insane. My uncle wallace won’t talk to me because I overreacted when he had a shitty opinion and posted it on a status of mine, and I took it as him attacking me. I want to cry every time I think about it but I already sent him one long message explaining why, and then the next day I sent a really long apology message. I don’t know why I keep fucking things up with everyone I care about. It feels like Connor and my cat are the only ones I have anymore, and even Connor can drive me crazy sometimes because obviously, that’s how people are who live together and have known each other for 8 fucking years, and I’m so hard to live with and deal with because of the bpd and the fact that my anxiety shows itself in irritability and the amount of times I’ve snapped at them for fucking nothing is absolutely ridiculous. I’m mad that they still haven’t learned how to drive and we’re moving in a month and it’s looking like I’m going to have to drive by myself from one coast to another while they blissfully chill in the passenger seat and doze off or play on their phone or whatever, but in reality they’re probably really anxious about it too and they probably feel bad but can’t make theirself do it and it’s just I feel so shitty all the time oh my god).

I don’t even know what the point of this post is, I just think I needed to vent somewhere that I don’t have to be careful what I say because no one reads this shit anyway. The second I vent where ANYONE in my family can see it, they’ll all jump down my throat for being “disrespectful to my parents” or some other bullshit. They fucking love bandwagons. One of their favorite phrases is “my army is bigger” and honestly that shit scares me because yeah, it is. And that goddamn army is too fucking prideful (like me) to accept when they maybe should hear someone out, and they will literally cyberbully you if they can. It may sound whiny, but I really do feel like I was cyberbullied that day with uncle wallace. I’m not even kidding (and again, no one reads this so I don’t feel bad saying this because it’s tru) I legitimately wanted to kill myself that day. Everyone was jumping down my throat AGAIN over something I said that hurt my mom when I didn’t even know it hurt her. If I had, I would have taken it down and apologized. They were also attacking me for an immature snapchat saying “fuck you and your shitty ass opinions” which was about my uncle, and yeah I deserved a little of that bullshit but I admitted that was wrong very shortly after. He wouldn’t even hear me out, but I was the bad guy, the disrespectful, ignorant black sheep who treated everyone like shit. I keep trying to pretend I’m over the whole thing but I’m so not. I won’t forget who said shit to me and who didn’t. Because that shit fucking hurt.

I don’t want to tell Connor how mad I am over something they may not be able to control, I don’t want to fucking rub my sister’s face in how ‘not’ Amber I am (also, just, sidenote, the main reason I changed my is really because I hated Amber and wanted some control over my life and it really has made me happier, but also honestly it was partly because my fucking rapist has never called me “Kye” and so when I’m having fucking rape flashbacks I can separate myself from it so when she insists that Kye is horrible and she hates me now (she didn’t say that but she said I wouldn’t be in her life if I weren’t family and let’s face it, I’m not in her life rn anyway and I may as well not be family with how I’ve been treated recently, not that it’s not partly my fault, but still) and that she misses Amber, who she grew up with, who is the one she misses, not me, not who I am now. Honestly, when we were fighting it felt like she only said that because she needed a concrete reason to be mad at me so she grasped onto the fact that I’ve changed, which my whole family complains about, but

Look at all the motherfucking goddamn fucked up shit I’ve been through in the past few years. OF FUCKING COURSE I’VE CHANGED. It hurts like hell that my ENTIRE family is mad that I’m not the same girl who left them for an abusive fiance. Like yes, I’m kind of a bitch now when I need to be, and yes I overreact to things BECAUSE I’VE BEEN THROUGH TRAUMA U DON’T JUST FUCKING GET OVER THAT, and yes I changed my name and I’m not the motherfucking goddamn same but how dare you want me to be?

I WANTED TO DIE. EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. I HAVE NEVER HATED MYSELF AS MUCH AS I DID THEN. I HAD TWO EATING DISORDERS, AN ADDICTION TO CUTTING (for which I’m now getting urges so I’m going to end this soon), I HATED EVERYONE I KNEW, I WAS FUCKING SO DEPRESSED I COULDN’T EVEN, UGH, I WAS ONLY SLEEPING ONCE EVERY TWO NIGHTS SO I WAS HALLUCINATING, I PUSHED AWAY EVERYONE WHO EVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME, I SNAPPED AT EVERYONE WHO WAS NEAR ME WHEN I WAS ANXIOUS AND I DIDN’T KNOW MY TRIGGERS. NOW I CAN AT LEAST SEPARATE MYSELF FROM THE SITUATION SO I DON’T HURT PEOPLE AS MUCH. I DON’T TALK ABOUT THE VIEWS I HAVE THAT CONFLICT WITH EVERYONE ELSE’S SO I DON’T HAVE TO ARGUE WITH ANYONE. I HAVE MADE MYSELF SMALL, THEN MADE MYSELF BIG, AND REVERT TO SMALL WHEN I’M AROUND THEM, BUT IT’S STILL NOT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR THEM.

WHEN, please fucking tell me WHEN, when will I be enough for them?

#angst #family #drama #blogging #update #happy fourth #fourth of july #independence day #trauma #survivor #venting

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livingdarwinaward · 6 years

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Finding the lost

This is based off of this prompt by @writing-prompt-s and this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Anything spoken in another language is underlined

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“A spell to find what was lost,” the stone said in elegant cursive. My parents had always warned me against any magic beyond the gifts they said were passed down through the family (that I’d never even noticed), but I was already at the lake and so was already breaking that rule. Besides, I didn’t live with them anymore, and also, I couldn’t find my favorite necklace. A little spell couldn’t hurt. I stuck the rock in my pocket and kept walking. I read a few more stones, all the words on them short and cryptic to fit. There were a lot of traumatic memories, as could be expected from a place like this, but the occasional memory caught my eye. “The lake,” “That one dream,” and the most worrying: “hopes & dreams.”

“I’ll write ‘the lake’ and ‘that one dream’,” I muttered to myself, then left. As soon as I left the wall around the lake, the rock in my hand evaporated, and I remembered the spell someone else had forgotten. I muttered the spell under my breath as I made my way home and wondered what it would bring back, if it worked at all. When I got home, I half heartedly searched the house for anything I’d lost, not really surprised when I didn’t. “No wonder they threw that spell away, it doesn’t work. Like, at all. Not that I expected differently.”

I started on my stories, and a few days later had finished ‘The Lake.’ I edited it, then sent it off to be published in the magazine I sent all of my stories to. All the while, I couldn’t help but think about the similarities between the lake I’d written and the one I knew. I couldn’t help but put them in the author’s notes I posted on my blog.

...The real lake was said to have a lost temple at the bottom that guarded the memories of primordial beings, the intensity (or horrors, depending on who told you) of which could drive anyone mad the way the dreams the dreams in the story had to the girl. The dreams had been triggered by the girl touching the water of the lake, like how the water of the real lake has been said to give anyone touching it vague impressions and half memories from the center of the lake…

Comments on that part of the post were mostly asking about the tales locals told about the lake, or expressing disbelief in those same tales. I figured that talking about one of my major sources of inspiration was what made me want to go back.

Because I wanted to go back. Now. I usually went about once a month, but I sometimes went more if I needed the extra inspiration, but I hadn’t even finished the second story. I told myself, and kept telling myself that I didn’t need to go for the next couple of days, and even as I drove there and walked along the shore, scanning the rocks for something I couldn’t name. One rock caught my eye, a smooth, flat, dark-grey rock. When I picked it up, I almost dropped it when I saw the words written in my childhood handwriting, then again when I registered what the words said.

There were two: “My brother.”

I bolted to the exit, wanting to drop the rock, but the want to know was just too strong. I stopped outside the gate as years’-- nearly a decade’s worth-- of memories flooded my head. Many I recognized, but were changed because of the presence of my brother, but there were many more that I didn’t, just of my brother or simply lost to time. All of them leading up to one, the worst of all.

“Come on, Emma!” he yelled, chasing me. “You know I’m gonna get you, just give up!”

“Never!” I ran through the trees, nimbler than my older, bigger brother. I saw a climbable tree up ahead, and sped up even more to launch myself into the lower branches and scramble further up, just avoiding being tagged.

“Aw, come on, that’s not fair!” James waved his broken arm, still in a cast for a few weeks. Until it came off, he couldn’t climb, or do much of anything with that arm.

I just laughed. We stayed there for a few minutes as I giggled steadily. “Come on James, you know it’s not-- what’s that?” James turned at my suddenly worried tone.

“I don’t see-- oohh…” He backed toward my tree as the crack in the other widened. Suddenly, roots shot up from the ground and dragged James screaming into the, now very wide, split in the tree.

I was crying, sobbing, screaming at the tree to ‘give him back,’ ‘let him go,’ pelting the tree with pinecones when one struck a figure that had suddenly appeared. He glared at me, inhuman features sharp and cold.

“Your brother belongs to us now, and you will not get him back. I should destroy you now for your gifts, but I’ll wait until we meet again, if we do. You’d best hope it does not for your own sake.” He waved his hand and I found myself, still crying, in my own room as Mother knocked on my door.

There were a few more memories after that: telling my parents what had happened, them saying I needed to go to the lake, and on the way explaining why. They said I needed to forget James’ disappearance to lose the Sight I’d gained to throw off the enemy I’d gained with it, forget his existence so I wouldn’t look for him. I remembered trying to see through the tears as I wrote on the rock, and the three splashes I had thought to be mirroring my own in my warped vision, now realizing--

“Shit!” I got up and ran to my car, diving in and speeding to my parents’ house. “No wonder there were no hints, they forgot too.” I rambled on, thinking aloud all the reasons I wouldn’t get hints from others who knew him. “Mother and Dad never brought James and I into town before actually put us in school, and apparently all those kids we played with moved. Wait. No they didn’t-- I lost the Sight with my memories and never got it back, but I’d had it before James was taken, so they must have been fae. Or something. Shit.” I pulled up into my parents’ driveway, then tried to get my keys out of the car, but they stuck in the ignition. “Fuck it.” I left the keys and went in, knocking on the door before opening it. “Mother, Dad!”

“Emma, is that you?” I heard my mother call back.

“Yes! Come down, I have something to say to both of you,” I yelled.

“Come up, he’s getting worse; he can’t get up at all. Didn’t you get my call?”

“No I didn’t, I’m coming up!” I took the stairs two at a time and burst into my parents’ room, stopping suddenly when I saw Dad. Pale and thin, he lay on the bed with Mother beside him. “How do you feel, Dad?”

“I feel fine--” he stopped for one heart-stopping moment to take a breath “--it’s my time, no point fighting it. Don’t feel too bad, Emmie, I’ll be fine. Now what do you have to say?”

I took a deep breath. “Well, here goes.” I took the rock from my pocket and fiddled with it for a second before I started. “So I was just at the Lake--”

“Of Memories?” Mother interrupted.

“Yes. And I found this.” I held up the rock, then put it down, writing facing up, onto Dad’s lap. Then I waited.

Mother’s brow furrowed. “Is this…” she trailed off.

“Yes. It’s my writing. There’s two more, one from each of you, that I didn’t find.”

“This is hard to believe,” Mother said.

“I have no reason to fake this, and I’m shit at imitating handwriting, as you know. Even my own. I remember throwing the rock, but there was three splashes.”

Father cut in, eyes shining. “Ell, it’s true,” he said. “I had a dream of our son. James, he was, no is, older than Emma. It had to be our son.”

“Yes, James is my older brother. What was the dream like?”

“Honey, are you sure?” Mother asked. “There’s no way you’d dream of him if we threw our memories in the Lake, it could just be a random boy.”

“It was a boon, Ell,” he said. “I know it.” His voice was weaker now, and he was fading fast, breath wheezing faintly in and out. Mother was crying. “I want you to find him for me, Emma. Ell, you help her. I want to know all about him…” he trailed off, a smile on his face as his eyes dulled and his breathing stopped.

“Dad.” I couldn’t say more than that. Mother was sobbing, stroking his hand. I sat down next to Mother, hugged her, and cried.

A few days later, after the funeral, Mother came to me. “I’m still not sure whether I can believe that I have a son, but finding him is your father’s last wish, so I’ll help. Where… where do we start?”

“Probably with getting you memories back. We have to find your rock.” I’d driven her there, so now I gestured for her to follow me back to my car. Once we were driving, Mother continued.

“That won’t be easy--”

“I think it will. I have a spell--”

“Naturally, after all the time I spent warning you away from spells…”

“Hey, I was curious. Don’t judge.”

“Just give me the spell.” I sighed, then rattled it off. Mother stared. “You expect me to be able to say that?”

“What do you mean? It’s perfectly comprehensible. Just kinda long.”

“The length is not the issue Emma. What is is that I cannot speak… whatever language that was.”

“I was able to read it just fine, it’s not just that I remember it now.”

“Get the rock, would you?”

“We have to get to my house first, Mother. I don’t just keep rocks in my car.” Mother nodded, and we spent the rest of the drive in silence.

When we got to my house, I unlocked the door, but it wouldn’t open. I sighed, then slammed my whole body into it. That worked. “Yeah, the door swells up in humid weather, so… yeah. Anyways, the rock. It’s in my office.”

When I got the rock, Mother looked at it and said, “Emma, hon, This is a fae tongue. I can’t read it. Or speak it.” I looked at the rock, but I didn’t see anything I couldn’t read. I squinted, and then saw it. “Oh.” I looked at my computer. “I have a database login. Might have a pronunciation guide.”

“Or you could teach me yourself,” Mother said with a meaningful look. “Your gift is languages. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I’ll try, but it’ll probably take a while.” I took a deep breath, then said the first line of the spell. Mother tried to copy me, but messed up in several places. Some was just gibberish, but a few mistakes… “Yeah, that’s just. Okay. It’s sword and stream, not thorn and piss. Just thought that might help.”

An hour (and a few dozen similar mistakes) later, Mother was able to actually say the spell. “Now what?”

“Now we wait. If you want to go to the lake, go. That’s when the spell will work.”

While we waited for a few days, I did research on which Fae may have taken James, and we still grieved. It took two days, but Mother showed up at my door, looking somewhat shell-shocked. “I went to the lake,” she said, an expression of (Wonder? Horror? Fear? I really couldn’t tell.) on her face. “I know where to look, but it won’t be easy.”

“Finding him, or--”

“Getting him back, if that was the plan.”

“That was the general idea, yes,” I said. “Why will it be hard?”

“I’ll explain on the way. I have a plan, not that I like it, but it’s the only way.”

A cloudy sunrise months later found Mother and I veering off a nice, paved road onto a bumpy dirt path through the woods. I looked back at the massive boulder in the back of the truck, making sure it hadn’t fallen out. Mother hadn’t told me what it was for, just that we’d need it to get James back. What she had told me was why James had been taken.

“The Fae need people to protect their strongholds,” Mother told me. “They’re spread too thin even with the added help, so that they need to pull humans-- Fae-kin specifically-- to defend them while they try to survive. Our family has always been touched by magic, but James had the most potential. That’s why he was chosen.”

“Why are they spread too thin?” I had asked.

“Their gods became dormant, so they weakened and began to die. It was made worse when boons their gods granted to humans became curses, and created monsters that would wage war on the Fae, and as the wars went on, more Fae secrets were forgotten, and they kept losing power.”

Mother yanked the wheel, whipping the truck off the path just as rain splattered through the leaves, onto the truck, and through the open windows. “Mother, can I shut the window?”

“No. I need to hear the wind.”

I was about to ask why when the truck shot into the air, then slammed back down whatever had shoved it up. Mother opened the door and climbed out, dropping to the ground and whistling like a bird. An actual bird seemed to reply, and Mother hummed, then whistled again. A different bird screamed an alarm (I guessed) and a bush rustled, then parted to reveal-- “James?” I whispered.

Mother pulled something out of her pocket, then spoke to James. “Summon an Elder. I have an exchange.”

James stared for a second, then put his hand on a tree. A second later, it rippled, and a man-- no, Fae-- stepped out. Just before he spoke, I realized he was the one to take James. “You willingly brought one I would kill right to me? You would trade one child’s life for the other’s freedom?”

“No,” Mother said. “You had no right to take my son, and I have a different exchange for you.” The words sounded odd, but I realized she was speaking a Fae tongue.

How? I wondered, then saw what she was holding. Raven’s feather.

“You will need two, to keep both children. Magic belongs to the Fae. we give humans boons, we can call upon our favors. You yourself are Fae-kin. You owe us.”

“You know as well as I do that boons are given for favors from humans, as a way to not be in debt to the human. Even if we owed someone, mine and Emma’s gifts were given from the Winds, and the boon to my husband’s family and James was granted by the Mountains, so we would owe them, not the Forests. Not you.”

The Fae spoke again. “You speak the language of nature, not a dangerous gift, unless you listen to the wrong things, but your daughter knows all other languages. Her gift is dangerous to us, so I promised death should she not give her Sight. What could you do to free your son and cause me to go back on my word and risk what few secrets we still keep?”

“Memories,” Mother said, “Lost secrets.” She indicated the boulder in the back of the truck. “I have a cornerstone of one of the lost Temples. There are old secrets written all over it.”

Stunned, the Fae leaped to the back of the truck, before turning angry again. “And what use is this? This language was lost with the Temple. No one, even Fae, knows this language anymore. We can’t read it, the secrets are still lost.”

“I can read it,” Mother said. “The stone was in the Lake of Memories. I pulled it out, I can read it.”

I wondered what use Mother’s ability to read it did the Fae, but then then the man spoke. “You offer yourself as well?”

The words sank in. “Mother, no!” I yelled.

“Emma, it’s the only way.” She and I both watched as the Fae pulled a leaf from a tree and fashioned it into a cup, then held it to collect the rain flowing from the stone we’d brought.

“Humans will not survive in a Fae court. And with this, you will not need that feather to communicate with us.” He offered the water.

“Free my son first,” Mother demanded. The Fae sighed, waved his hand, and James spoke.

“Mother? What are you-- NO!” he yelled as Mother drank. She doubled over, clearly in pain. Then she stood back up, and I could see that she was no longer human. Not Fae, but not human either.

“I’m sorry, children.” Tears blurred my eyes, and Mother and the Fae wavered. Then they vanished, along with the forest and the boulder, and James and I were in the truck, back on the road. The tears fell, and James wasn’t any better off.

“She, she just--”

“She did it to protect us, Em. But I understand. I’m sorry.” He hugged me. “Now what’d I miss?”

#original #fantasy #writing #my writing #givethispromptatry #writing-prompt-s #this is the longest single chapter thing ive written #its just under 3000 words #and took me literal MONTHS

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gravetells · 7 years

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Author Amy Lane on what makes Green’s Hill so special #Quickening #LittleGoddess #UrbanFantasy

If you’re a fan of urban fantasy and you haven’t read Amy Lane’s Little Goddess series, you MUST check it out. The series has a lot of similarities to Laurell K. Hamilton’s Merry Gentry series, but without the retina-burning horror elements and the out-of-control menage. Little Goddess is what Merry Gentry could have been. Don’t let that fool you into thinking this series is “safe”. Vulnerable (the first book in the series) will break your heart, and each new book after it will shock you in ways you can’t predict. But that’s what makes this series dynamite. Author Amy Lane is here today with some personal perspective into what makes Green’s Hill (the series’ home base) so very addicting.

Welcome, Amy Lane!

Why Green’s Hill

I’ve heard it from a lot of people over the years—they wish there was a place like Green’s hill. I mean it’s not perfect—privacy is an illusion, monogamy has all sorts of drawbacks and somebody is literally trying to kill you at every turn.

But the pros are also easy to spot: beautiful people, sexual freedom, guaranteed job security doing whatever you like that helps the collective, and let’s not forget immortality or at least a generously increased lifespan.

Who wouldn’t want to live there?

But people who stop at eternal sex and excellent job training are missing the point.

Mental health problems and drug addictions are sort of my milieu. Not mine personally—in fact, a lot of people I hang out with would be hard pressed to remember seeing me drink more than a glass of wine or a single mojito, and there’s a reason for that. But I’ve seen up close the damage done to lives and promising futures and families when self-medicating one problem with another gets wildly out of hand.

When I was teaching, there were a lot of times I saw the signs of kids who were about ready to fall through those same cracks. There wasn’t much I could do for them—helping them pass English, telling them they had a future, helping them find someone to talk to—in the end, I spent less than 4 ½ hours a week with a kid, and much of that was in the company of 35 other people. (California public schools, where class size is no joke.)

And I had a fondness for kids that nobody else seemed to see. The natural smartass—that was my kid. I didn’t care much if they were always on time—what I liked was a kid who knew how to be late. If a kid got to school late every day, entered the room, sat down, and started the warmup so silently that I didn’t see her, seriously? Why get mad? My personal rule of thumb was that if it didn’t disrupt the learning, I didn’t give a rat’s ass, and the kids who bought into that idea were the kids I showed up for every damned day.

So one day, I was driving to work, and got stuck behind a giant hulking land yacht, rumbling at the U-turn where most of the late-ish teachers were idling. As I was staring into space, pondering the latest urban fantasy novel I’d read, I saw a hand with a cigarette hanging out of the window—the sort of bored smoking that a veteran nicotine addict indulges in.

Then I recognized that kid.

I loved that kid.

She was one of my favorites—she’d already submitted to nursing school, and while she wasn’t top of her class, she was definitely going somewhere.

But the nicotine addiction made me so sad.

Because she wasn’t even eighteen, and that was a thing that would follow her through her entire life. I wanted a do over for her—a chance to re-negotiate that part of her life, to come out with the promising future she’d earned and the zero addictions she deserved.

And then (because seriously, this was a frickin’ long light) I thought about fantasy stories. Why did they only serve the introvert, the super smart kid, the exiled nerd? That always seemed sort of self-aggrandizing to me. I mean, yeah, I was that kid, but I didn’t see any of my favorite kids in my books. The disenfranchised. The ones who didn’t test well, or whose hostility got in the way of their brains sometimes. Remember—this was 2000/2001. There was an entire market of YA books of kids who got addicted to meth and then raped by their dealers (no, I’m not kidding!) but there wasn’t much hope in the way of redemption for those kids.

And not only that, but those books… they always made sex seem like such an awful thing. If you have sex, you’ll break up and you won’t be a virgin for your next boyfriend and that’s BAD! Don’t have sex or do drugs because you’ll become perfectly irredeemable as a person and nobody will ever want you again EVER. OH MY GOD, EVERY MISTAKE YOU MAKE WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU AND YOU WILL BE JUDGED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

That’s not the way life works!

Or it shouldn’t be.

One kid doing X at a party shouldn’t get him put in jail for years. One kid who gets high and laid shouldn’t be given up on—ever. And once the addiction started, what then? What happened to that kid whose self-destructive spiral just can’t seem to end?

Because we all know where it does end, don’t we? We’ve seen the commercials and read the literature often enough.

I didn’t make a conscious decision to write Green’s hill that day—but I was writing. When I wrote Cory and Adrian—and then added Green to the mix, I needed Green and Adrian to have a bigger purpose than themselves. They needed to be doing something important, otherwise if Cory ended up with them, she was just trading in one small town dream for another.

And then I realized what job Adrian would be perfect for. What purpose Green’s skill at sex and healing seemed to lend itself to.

If your number one tenet is no shame, and your creed is sensual and consensual, you are the perfect beings to help unfuck the young and the lost, the addicted and the despondent

These two characters—they were agents of redemption. If your number one tenet is no shame, and your creed is sensual and consensual, you are the perfect beings to help unfuck the young and the lost, the addicted and the despondent, those who have been told that their mistakes have rendered them worthless, when the human being who made those mistakes is, in fact, shining and pure and good.

This idea of the found family has become the cornerstone of my writing since then. The theme of forgiveness and empathy being stronger than hatred and shame has crystalized as one of my most dearly held beliefs.

And when I write about Green and Cory, Bracken and Nicky, and dear, darling, beloved Adrian, I am drawn again to the magic of Green’s hill, and reminded that the true magic—forgiveness and unconditional love—are the most human of enchantments.

Forgiveness and unconditional love are the most human of enchantments @AmyMacLane #GreensHill Click To Tweet

New to the Little Goddess series?

Start with Vulnerable. This is a series you definitely need to read in order! Grab your copy on Amazon below*:

Buy or reserve your copy online at*: Amazon (Kindle) | Dreamspinner Press

Quickening by Amy Lane Published by DSP Publications on May 2nd 2017 Genres: LGBT, Gay, Fantasy, Paranormal, Urban Pages: 316 Add it to your To Read shelf: Goodreads

Find the Author: Website, Blog, Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, Amazon

Little Goddess: Book Five, Volume One Cory thought she’d found balance on Green’s Hill—sorceress, student, queen of the vampires, wife to three men—she had it down! But establishing her right to risk herself with Green and Bracken had more than one consequence, and now she’s facing the world’s scariest job title: mother. But getting the news that she’s knocked up takes a back seat when a half-elf hunts them down for help. Her arrival brings news that the werewolf threat, which has been haunting them for over a year, has finally arrived on their doorstep—and it’s bigger and more frightening than they’d ever imagined. Cory throws herself into this new battle with everything she’s got—and her men let her do it. Because they all know that whether they defeat this enemy now or later, the thing she’s most afraid of is arriving on a set schedule, and not even Cory can avoid it. The trick is getting her to acknowledge she’s pregnant before she gives birth—or kills herself in denial.

About Amy Lane

Amy Lane has two kids in college, two gradeschoolers in soccer, two cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with most of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and gay romance–and if you accidentally make eye contact, she’ll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.

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from Author Amy Lane on what makes Green’s Hill so special #Quickening #LittleGoddess #UrbanFantasy

#Book Tour #The Feed #Urban Fantasy Cat #Amy Lane #faeries #featured #LGBT #Little Goddess series #pa

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