#ok tumblr fucked up my image order but I fixed it

[the-river-of-light]

"It's just like you told me -- every puzzle has an answer!" // "I think this is it...I suppose I'll have to try again."

so I made the correct animation a couple weeks ago, noticed some immediate flaws but had no desire to correct them...until I made the incorrect frames. Then I decided to go and fix it. new and improved puzzle solving GIFs! I like it better now :)

@layton-npc-appreciation-week day 3: unwound future

individual frames under the cut!

[someidiotwithalaptop]

Hi, hello, I a in desperate need of css help because I'm a beginning trying to do something for my story on a workskin.

I have 3 images: Left(100×100), Center(100×200), and Right(100×100). I would like the Left to be left-aligned, Center to be center-aligned, and Right to be right-aligned all in the same paragraph/sentence so that when it's seen on the screen, they'll be aligned. However what I do this, the images fall out of alignment.

On desktop, the Left and Right images are perfectly placed but the Center is more left-aligned following after the Left image. I checked the html and it's clear that Center is "centered-aligned".

Is there a simple fix? Or is there some hidden rule or easier way that I'm not seeing?

Ok so fair warning that 99% of my CSS dabbling is in tag blocking and urls, so this is the result of a bit of fucking around and trying stuff moreso than actually knowing what I'm doing.

That said, using this tutorial, I did manage to get this result:

The workskin looks like this:

#workskin .column { float: left; width: 33.33%; padding: 50px; }

#workskin .row { display: flex; }

and the html in the fic itself should look something like this, though I had to retype it to not have tumblr auto-format it:

<p>======================================================================================================================================================</p>

<div class="row">

<div class="column">

<p><img src="https://image1.jpg" alt="" /></p>

</div><div class="column">

<p><img src="https://image2.jpg" alt="" /></p>

</div><div class="column">

<p><img src="https://image3.jpg" alt="" /></p>

</div></div>

<p>======================================================================================================================================================</p>

(the paragraphs of equal signs were just so I could see what the width of the actual text space was supposed to be)

Increasing the value under "padding" should make the images smaller and farther apart, and decreasing it will make them closer together.

Also, if you want the center image to be wider (I think it's just taller? idk how the order of height and width goes lmao) then you can make two column classes in the work skin like this:

#workskin .column1 { float: left; width: 25%; padding: 50px; }

#workskin .column2 { float: left; width: 50%; padding: 50px; }

and give the <div> the middle image is in "column2" as a class and the others "column1"

I think that should work for any combination of column size/number, as long as the percentages of all of them add up to 100.

*Fair warning also that from what I read in the tutorial the flex container used here isn't supported in some versions of internet explorer (10 and before I think???), so this might not work in those browsers.

also, hehehe:

[vore-scientist]

Demanding

[FLUFFY Safe, soft, willing, GT, non-romantic non-sexual M/f vore, fantasy setting. No additional warnings]

Proper Title Demanding: Yonah in Terra-Syor

Ok a little explanation is needed for this: IT'S NOT PART OF THE NORMAL MYSTIC WOODS. IT'S AN AU+ CROSSOVER SILLINESS

Been talking with @vixen525 (dA, tumblr) and we’ve been talking about fun crossovers with our worlds/characters and this came out of that! 

To set you up: Yonah, for whatever reason it’s not important for this story, got transported to the dimension/world of TerraSyor (which belongs to @vixen525 ), but in the process suffered memory loss (bc I wanted to be cliche as fuck and it makes things so much fun!!!). Giants in TerraSyor are called Syors or Syorians which are two subspecies. Check their dA for more information. They are a LOT larger than Yonah. But anyways. That’s kinda the set up, other things you need to know are explained in the story. 

---

Like last time we find ourselves in the office of the King of the Giants (who is away on a diplomatic mission) on the giant desk which had a smaller human sized desk on the upper right hand corner. Only this time it is night, or rather early evening. Though in this northern region, the sun had gone down over an hour ago; the Chief Political Advisor is sitting at her desk with mage lights hanging around her.

With King Connor away, Naomi tended to bury herself in her work. Because her best friend, the aforementioned King, is not there and while she misses him she has a lot of work to catch up on! King Connor tends to let it pile up. Often by keeping her from being able to do it thanks to his favorite way to enjoy her company. So while she missed her friend, she was not about to let this opportunity go to waste!

She would stay up for days to finish the paperwork! She had done so before even against the orders of the castle’s human physician for her to maintain a proper sleep schedule. As if she could sleep without Connor! And she was reluctant to ask one of the castle staff for assistance. Once or twice she’d gone to Lana, but the former Queen and interim King wasn’t someone Naomi liked to bother much even if she was available. Always more than happy to help, extremely sweet, but a little overbearing.

Thankfully her new guard was there to get her proper rest every night! Well. He tried. One all nighter he was willing to allow; he would force her to sleep should she try two in a row.

Tonight was such a night, however it would prove to be much more interesting.

Grunting as he glanced at his pocket watch tick into later evening he stood up and feeling a bit playful he reduced himself from 23.5ft to 7.5ft tall. Even at his full size he was more than small enough to sit comfortably on Connor's desk. Naomi didn’t notice him walking up until he was pulling the politician from her chair. She protested and held onto the desk and Yonah pretended to let her be strong enough to hold herself there.

“No! I need to finish reviewing this trade negotiation!” she sounded serious but there was a hint of playfulness.

“You can review it in the morning, you were up all last night! I know you miss Connor, that’s why I’m here!”

“I’m your boss, you’re paid to protect me!”

“I’m not technically paid and apparently I need to protect you from yourself. Also I need to sleep too! How can I protect you if I’m exhausted” He had tried to sleep last night, Naomi in his arms, powered by caffeine and hyper fixation, and armed with her portable desk, she did not waiver.

And he did manage to nap a few times. Not for more than an hour total. He was disinclined to sleep while she worked for several reasons. Mostly her safety even if this was the most secure room in the palace. Assassins had still gotten in before! And because once he woke up buried in paper. He was sure he’d inhaled a page at some point. Such suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Naomi got mad at him for it. And for his snoring.

So no more sleeping on the job!

Finally Yonah yanked her away from her desk, and ripped the paper from her hand. “I’ll give you one chance to change into PJs or you’re going down as is!” He grinned.

She had not changed clothes in almost 36 hours… she sighed and agreed. Plus she needed a shower, even if it would be made pointless soon after. Very soon in fact, as they both put on PJs after drying off but before heading to Connor’s bedroom, which they both lived in. No this is not weird.

Now, with both in their PJs, and teeth brushed, it was time! Yonah had returned to his normal size a while ago and he picked up the human and locked her dark and sleep deprived eyes onto his own. Before he lowered her from eye level and shoved her into his mouth.

Now, Naomi was never enthusiastic to be eaten, at least, not by Yonah. Not by anyone but Connor really. It kinda sucked, a lot. Being swallowed was the worst part. Yonah, being almost five times shorter than Connor, could barely fit a human torso in his mouth and Naomi’s sides sometimes got bruised against his teeth, and even though it was a short trip down it always felt like she might be squeezed to death. But that wasn’t why she was so unhappy.

Yonah noticed her hesitation but didn’t say anything as he swallowed her down as quickly as he could, and then promptly made his way to Connor’s chambers. Maybe the motion of his gate would lull his passenger. It was a fair distance even for Yonah, at 23.5ft, navigating a Castle meant for much larger giants. But the wash chamber was nearby to make it more convenient for Naomi. Soon he was in the bedroom and making his way to his own bed that was tucked into a corner of the room. It was a four poster with a canopy, and curtains, which gave it a feel of a box or a container, or cage… which wasn’t a bad thing, in fact it kinda felt familiar but he was sure he’d never been caged in such a way.

Yet sleep did not come. Specifically Naomi couldn’t sleep. As he climbed into his bed he felt Naomi shift. So much so it was clear she hadn’t woken due to his movements. Normally such little hints of struggle lulled him, but he could sense her restlessness and with him being in charge of her wellbeing, his worry chased away any lulling effect.

“Something wrong Naomi?” He sat at the side of his bed, feet on the ground, and pressed a hand to his belly, pleasantly full with the small human woman. She didn’t seem to appreciate this.

“It’s nothing!” She kicked, knowing it didn’t hurt him but he still grunted for her edification.

“That’s a lie, you need to tell me,” he rubbed at her.

He heard her sniff.

“This is. So different from when Connor eats me… it’s so confining!!” though her tone carried an air of falsehood.

“Do… you want me to spit you up? Will you sleep if I hold you in my arms?” Yonah knew full well that Naomi was from a tropical kingdom, used to warm humid nights, and was so accustomed to sleeping in Connor’s stomach that the cool dry air of the giant’s castle made it hard for her to fall asleep.

“I just miss Connor!” She finally wailed softly. Oh. This wasn’t a problem he could fix, and he was about to suggest he cast a reversal of his reduction so that he was closer to Connor’s size, if only briefly. But The problem wasn’t his size, the problem was he wasn’t Connor, so it was unlikely to help.

Yonah still held his stomach, he could feel her shaking as she cried under his hand. There wasn’t anything he could do.

Then his keen ears picked up a new sound and he stiffened. Naomi was too preoccupied to notice at first. Until he poked at his stomach, and with that poke was able to convey an air of novel concern.

“Wha-”

“I hear something-”

“Surely not an assassin, Connor’s not even-”

Shhhh - he pressed his hand forcefully down, feeling her squish in frustration. The sound was distant and small, he needed her to be silent. As emotional Naomi was, she knew that this took precedence. In fact she was a bit worried. What if it was a an assassin, or a slayer! Technically any slayer after Connor is also an assassin given his status as King.

“Yonah if you eat an assassin without spitting me up-”

“The fuck!? That’s horrid, and please, quiet-” he said at a whisper. It was probably the lack of sleep combined with missing Connor that had her so delirious that she even thought he would make her sit in his stomach if he caught someone. Now that he was thinking about it too and it made him a bit sick to his stomach. But he forced such images away to focus on the sound.

“Oh!” he said as he realized what it was. It wasn’t one he heard very often. “That’s the human door!”

Naomi sat up, curious but not without some concern. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure, and it sounds a bit frantic”

“I doubt it’s trouble... “

They sat there for another minute.

“Still knocking” Yonah reported.

Naomi shifted like she was thinking. Then Yonah heard the door unlock, open, and then the quick steps of bare feet across the stone floor, headed right for him! Him and Naomi! Quickly he put on his glasses, withdrew the curtains, and peered into the darkness.

The figure passed through a section of the floor that had a spot of moonlight shining down from a window and Yonah startled but chuckled as he saw the plump female form.

“It’s Dani!” he said.

He thought that would make Naomi relax but the way she flopped over she wasn’t relieved as much as suspicious.

And her suspicions were confirmed when Dani climbed right into the bed and dropped what a moment ago had been a human sized book, now the correct size for him, into his lap with a THUP. Yonah anticipated the next sentences out of her mouth as, hands on her hips, she glared at him with fierce confidence.

“Eat me! Read to me!”

Yonah was acutely aware that his hand was STILL over his stomach, and Naomi had gone still, but he wasn’t worried about that. While he loathed to turn Dani down, his stomach was already occupied. This wasn’t really up to him.

Having also gotten little sleep his first emotion was annoyance, then anger. But no. He wouldn't lash out. Instead hesmiled kindly down at Dani, scooping her up in his free hand and kissing her chubby cheek, stroking the back of her head. Then he rubbed at his stomach and looked down, Dani looking as well.

“Only if Naomi says it’s ok”

Even in the dark He could see Dani’s face get red.

“I- didn’t realize-” she flicked her eyes back to Yonah’s which in the darkness glowed softly. “I’m having trouble sleeping, so I thought- even if you don't eat me…”

Naomi sighed with her entire body. Seemed like Yonah’s services were in high demand tonight. Still. The idea of Yonah eating Dani along with her… The chamber that was his stomach was so small that Naomi filled up most of the space already. Yonah said he could do it, eat more than one person, but was now the time for him to prove it? As a test she stretched out the space a bit. With her massaging it graciously gave way, not as much as she would have liked, but better than nothing. Another sigh, and then she deflated.

“Misery loves company, she can’t make it worse!”

Yonah grimaced, he wasn’t so sure about that. But then looked back at Dani who was snuggling into his arm, smiling softly. She hadn’t heard Naomi’s reply. Though now with Naomi’s permission, Yonah couldn’t see himself not eating Dani. One person in his belly was pretty great. But two? Wonderful. Delightful. The ideal amount of stuffed for a perfect and well deserved night’s rest. So he jostled his arm and Dani looked up at him.

“Naomi said it was alright” he kissed her cheek again, this time sticking out the tip of his tongue to get a brief taste, for soon he would get the full experience.

Dani’s eyes lit up, “Really! Then what are you waiting for?”

The light chuckle that came from Yonah shook Naomi who couldn’t help but giggle as Yonah said “Nothing, I’m just not feeling rude enough tonight to not warn Naomi that she’s about to have company.” He pressed fingers into his stomach to make sure she was listening. Since she could hear him speak, his statement to Dani was all the warning she needed.

He held Dani up to his mouth and opened his jaws wide, placing his tongue over his teeth so she could crawl in. There was more flavor on Dani tonight, she must have used some new bath salts. Yonah had recently caught onto Dani’s attempts to find a combination of salts that would be nearly irresistible to him, but since the magic flavors of the salts were designed for Syorians, there hadn’t been much success. He still held her in his mouth for longer than he had done Naomi, enjoying the new and interesting flavor that complimented her natural one.

There wasn't much space with her halfway in his mouth but he could still move his tongue enough to make Dani squirm a bit, laugh a bit. Until he tipped his head back, and he pushed her in a little further as gravity helped slide her to his throat and he took a swallow. While he liked to take his time with this too, as the stretching was painful but in a good way, his airway was completely cut off, he had to continue to swallow. Slowly but steadily. Naomi was also scrambling a bit, probably to make room. That felt nice. When he took a deep breath as her body slipped past his collar and allowed him to breath he could feel the pressure in his chest.

“Hey!” he heard Dani yelp and his own breath caught! As he felt something he hadn’t in a while.

Her hands had only left the esophagus, her head not even breaching into the chamber, when strong hands took her wrists and pulled her in. While their safety charms produced light, they had both set them to be dim in anticipation of sleeping, but not pitch black just yet, they needed to get settled in some semblance of comfort in the confined space.

“Hi Naomi!” Dani said as she tried to get off of the woman of much higher authority. That mostly failed but at least she wasn’t on top of Naomi anymore. More laying across.

This wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but it had only been a once or twice before. So adjusting to being so squished wasn’t very quick. They had to move around a lot to experiment with different positions. Yonah hummed small vibrations as they made their various attempts, and his constant poking and pressing at them did not help, but neither did they tell him to stop.

Oh it was a great day, or night, when he got to eat two people! And two of his favorite people in this world. Friends always tasted better. And every shove was a small burst of joy for him as he sat, completely content.

Finally the movement stopped but yonah didn’t notice until one of them, probably Dani, did her best to kick his insides.

“The book, Yonah? You’re not getting this full belly for free you know!” that was Dani, and Naomi laughed.

“Naomi needs to sleep, Dani!”

He felt the women shift a bit and had a hushed discussion that he couldn’t hear well enough.

“I’ll fall asleep faster if you read! Your voice is very soothing.” That statement was accompanied by stroking against his insides.

Placing all of his pillows behind him so he was sitting up for maximum comfort, he picked up the book. There was a bookmark in it but disregarded it. This was Warrior Mages: Into the Feywild, the first story from a series he’d not read before. Of course being from another world (not to mention his loss of memory from the interdimensional travel), he hadn’t read most book series. This one in particular he’d wanted to read, on Dani’s recommendation. Sneaky little human!

The effect wasn’t immediate but it was much quicker than he’d have bet on, as he could soon hear light snores coming from his midsection. He’d barely made it a second chapter in, and while he’d been hooked he was also on the verge of passing out. Keeping his voice low he told Dani this, laying a hand lightly over his stomach. She only responded with some strokes from the other side of his flesh. Still awake but not about to insist he keep reading.

Very carefully and very slowly he adjusted his position and pillows so that he was laying down. The weight of the humans settling in his gut, he kept his hand over the spot, using his other to pull up a thin blanket.

Apparently the night's adventures were not over however, as only 2 hours later the door burst open with the King’s early, loud, dead of night return. Yonah thanked the gods the didn’t think to shout for his friend. But the crash of the door and the approaching thunderous footsteps were just as infuriating.

Taking note that Naomi was not as her desk, Connor made a beeline for the small bed in the corner, dropped to his knees, leaned down, and drew the curtains without warning, though he was met with the angry, tired gaze of his little, doll sized guard who was sitting up, clearly stuffed with the king’s favorite treat. A little too stuffed if Connor was inclined to notice, but he was not. Yonah’s mane of jet black curly hair was also in the most amusing state, which Connor did notice but didn’t care about.

His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and he had a massive fanged grin on his face like a child looking at both a pet rabbit and a piece of chocolate cake.

“Spit her up!” he said without any more pretense. His voice devoid of consideration for the time of night.

Yonah put his hands defensively over his stomach, “Welcome back, Your Majesty.” The two humans in his belly waking up slower than he, but upon Yonah’s words Naomi called out as well.

“Connor’s back! Let me out!!”

The pointed ears of the king flicked to catch the voice of his friend and favorite snack.

Normally he’d obey a direct order from The King. Without question he would follow identical orders from the King and his second in command. But he was sleep deprived, no mood to deal with a demanding royal, and more so no mood to give up his treats! So delightfully full. He deserved this. The King could fucking wait.

“No.” he growled, making his eyes glow.

Connor blinked in surprise. A bit confused and taken aback at this blatant disrespect for his authority.

“What do you mean, no?” He narrowed his eyes surely his guard wasn’t disobeying him!

“What do you mean, no!!” Naomi’s voice rang out. Dani stayed silent, not really her place to intervene.

Connor’s ears flicked back and forth, switching between showing frustration and staying locked on Naomi’s voice.

“Yonah if you dont spit her up, I’ll-”

Yonah glared “Do what!? Fire me? Punish me? If you do, I hope you Have fun finding another guard, You had such great luck before.”

Connor’s hand had started to reach for him but stopped at Yonah’s threat. He knew Yonah wouldn’t really quit. But he finally noticed the bags under yonah’s eyes as the fire and sleep deprived fueled angry otherworldly half-giant continued to glare at him. Then pulled the curtains closed before the king could respond. The bed chamber was brightly lit now but the curtains, though translucent, were designed to keep most light out.

A smile crept onto Yonah’s face as he heard Connor continue to grumble yet stood up and walked away. He lay back down and fell asleep quickly as Naomi continued to complain while Dani regretted her choice of bed for the night.

[FIN]

if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[lairofsentinel]

During the game promotions I guessed what companions were going to be my faves in bg3 just by knowing how Larian works. It was enough by seeing their design and their “brief backstories”. So far, I only failed with Wyll. So, I want to keep these thoughts here, expecting tumblr not to delete them out of the blue as it usually does with my posts, and to reread them once the game is complete to see how their developments went.

[Baldur’s Gate 3 Early Access Spoilers] [basically talking about companions and what we saw so far in Early Access]

I was not expecting companions to be so antagonised one another. How can you manage to have a cohesive group when 4 out of 5 companions are constantly disapproving you, when your actions are more than reasonable! xD I always hate when companions disapprove you when you accept a quest. Sure, not to accept a reward from a NPC after a job done? Sure, it makes sense. A greedy companion would disapprove such action, it's ok.. but just accepting a random quest of a NPC needing help? Like... “c’mon, it’s a RPG, fucking Astarion, it's not Cazador I'm talking to. Why do you disapprove my need for xp and items? Or what, are you going to give me the XP I need?” xD Damn.

Also... I guessed just by playing many Larian games that Astarion was going to be a bit annoying to me. Simply because I'm accustomed to what Larian tags as “noble”. It's most of the time annoying (not ex-noble, but noble). Astarion has a lot of Red Prince with Sebille's background. I mean, it has layers of DOS2 characters, not that they are a copy-paste of them, which would be an incredibly unfair thing to say.

He has similar characteristics to that unbearable red lizard: noble, power-hungry, thick petulant or flamboyant levels to get to know him, untrustworthy in the beginning, easy-come-easy-go fellow. He differs from Red Prince in the fact that he truly is against any kind of slavery, and his slave past makes him twisted and wicked. Which is something I was also expecting since we know how Larian works with slave background in chars such as Sebille. 

Slavery makes the slave acquire twisted tastes, not because they were meant to be twisted chars by nature, but because they had to learn to enjoy that twisted-ness in order to survive. It's a nice place to explore evilness and neutrality. And I believe they will do a better job with Astarion, so far I see. He doesn’t want to be a “true vampire” to have a coven of slaves by his own... which is a soft relief to me. But he indulges into some other vices that Cazador applied to him in extreme levels. Or he has strange desires if we think that he dreamt with Cazador. We know that the creature we dream of is “what you are attracted for” or as Gale said: “it's a symbol of power and desire”. So, that image being Cazador... is more than disturbing. Preeeetty complex mindset we have with Astarion, I believe. Not my cup of tea, but I would lie if I say he is not an interesting character to see.

In fact, I believe that this time, all 5 companions are extremely interesting, not like in DOS2, where characters like Beast [or in my personal opinion Red Prince] turned out to have a poorer development in comparison with Lohse, Ifan, Fane or Sebille, and they tried to fix it in the Definitive Edition.

But, returning to BG3: Lae’zel is... basically Sebille +2, powered. Straightforward woman, pretty intense, aggressive, dominant, confident. She can kill you if she only wishes to. She differs from Sebille in the fact that she is a soldier, and lacks of  Sebille's slave background. Instead, Lae'zel inherited Red Prince's past (warrior of the prestigious House of War from the Lizard Empire) with most of Sebille's personality. However, she is too aggressive to me, all the time. I don't know.  Not even Fenris with a mage Hawke was this rough xD. Let's see how she evolves during the rest of the story. I'm not too eager to see her if there is not a promise of depth in her.

Shadowheart is hard to read. Oh, god, they made her pretty hardcore follower of Shar indeed. She is a walking mystery. That weird power in her hands that frightened her, the gith'yanki artefact. So many mysteries, and she is all the time pushing you away. It would be a sin to link her to any char from DOS2, since Early Access doesn't give us much of her past beyond the things we can assume by reading her tags: Urchin, Evil Cleric, Half-elf. With the little bits we got from her, we can assume she became a cleric of Shar because she was a street girl, and a cult of Shar raised her or something along those lines. But she has the hell of a potential. I love her a lot.

Wyll is also mysterious. I thought he was going to be evil. I was wrong. If I force myself to relate him with previous chars in DOS2, maybe it could be Beast. Wyll is an ex-noble, he seems to be trapped in a big mistake done in his past (Mizora), and he is desperate to fix it somehow. Beast had an infamous legend on his shoulders, and Wyll wants to be a hero and a legend in this world (which aligns a lot with Beast's goal: to give to the people a good peaceful world where to live). We don't know much to say more. Or at least, he didn't talk to me enough in my two super bugged playthroughs,

Now, this brings us to the last companion: Gale. In my opinion, Gale is Ifan +2. Wizard Ifan, without Ifan's contempt for books and scholarly stuff. Gale has an easy-going personality, even kind when you tell him rude things (at some degree, of course) and with a big mistake in his past that has the potential to kill an entire city with a bomb (pretty close to Ifan, his bomb, and his relationship with “god” Lucian which ended up in a massacre of elves... Gale is a step behind that situation, basically.) So, Ifan and Gale share many things: their problems with genocide bombs, the extreme admiration/love towards God-like entities, the guilt and maturity that comes when mistakes are acknowledged, and their determination to fix their own mistakes. I need to write a post aside for him, because... reasons.[[here]]

[diarybutablog]

Yesterday I had an amazing day!

I’m sorry I didn’t post anything since May but I really felt like I didn't had time to post anything and many things happened and I'll try to write the most important things in the other posts and now I'll try to say what happened yesterday.

The day before yesterday my father told me and my brother to got to sleep before midnight so we could wake up early. He wanted to go with us on a trip to Brighton because i wanted a comic from a Graphic Novel Shop that was there near the train station and also go somewhere to eat. Yesterday I woke up at 11 AM and he wanted to go with us on 10 AM… ALRIGHT. He opened our door to our room (i live with my younger brother in the same room in UK) and just said "So we're not going to Brighton?". To which i responded "Hello :>"… I guess he didn't like that because he just closed the doors. I waited in my room scrolling through Reddit on my laptop and seeing the same jokes reused with different images. I saw a meme where someone said the if you add Mr Bean to anything it will automatically become funny. It was so stupid that I felt weird because I wanted to chuckle for a moment when I saw this stupid picture.

Suddenly 12 AM came on a clock and I decided to dress up. After I did that I went and washed my hair. I think I was washing it for really long because I came out of the bathroom an hour later. I decided to go to the main room.

It’s not living room because it’s too small.

My dad was as always on his phone on Facebook when I came out of bathroom and I told him that I am hungry so I made myself two toasts, one with butter and pate, and the second with pepper cream. I ate them and drank some soda. My stomach hurt because I don’t usually drink sodas. Anyways, my dad told me that we could go together without my younger brother because he's asleep, so we did. My dad bought 4 tickets for us. Each one of us had one for return and one for going onward. My dad was telling me to keep the tickets somewhere like my right back pocket so i won't lose it heh. When we were riding we discussed Poland and UK as well. After the gossip about horror and thriller movies we arrived. First we went on an expedition to find the Graphic Novel Shop to buy me a comic book but so we were walking and walking and… we found it.

(Kinda i did it because my dad was totally lost)

I was broke but my dad had some to buy me a gift up to 20 pounds. I was searching around and found some cool comic books like the ones about Scott Pilgrim and based on D&D. Also i saw the 13th volume of a series called Giant Days which chapters are called troubles.

(I don't know why they call them troubles heh)

After searching for a while i noticed the comic section called LGBT and i wanted to check if something interesting was there AND THERE WAS! I really liked She-Ra and the Princesses Of Power and I noticed a book written by it’s creator Noelle Stevenson which is called The Fire Never Goes Out: A Memoir in Pictures.

It’s basically her diary but she adds her doodles and thoughts to it. I highly recommend it to anyone and I think I might do a Twitter thread describing my day but that’s not important now and probably won’t happen. I also saw a little comic book that was about tweets from our lovely Donald J. Trump but ilustrated as satirical pictures.

Basically boomer humor.

I showed it to my dad and he told me kindly that he wasn't interested in buying that for himself or for anyone. After that me and my dad came out of the store and we went to get something to eat for dinner but… my dad wanted to buy a bag and something to put a gift in. We were walking around the stores and he was stopping like every 5 SECONDS to check the next store and see if they sell something to put a gift in. We entered the Pride Shop or something like that and I wanted to buy the mug that was on the exhibition which presented Batman and Superman kissing. Also I was looking at the pride flags and pride pins but I didn’t give any signs about them to my dad because I don’t want him yet to know that I’m trans, or I think I am. When my dad was coming to these shops, I was coming with him to some of them, but if I wasn’t I was just standing outside waiting for for. In one of them there was a Moomins Handbag which I really wanted but my dad told me that he only would buy it if it costed up to 3 pounds but it was worth 8 so I didn’t get it… When I left the Moomins Handbag store I heard and saw two goth kids coming right beside me and I only heard them say that the girl in this conversation had a Moomin faze and collected everything related to Moomins… 

Does that mean that I’ll become a goth kid as well?

We were looking for a place to eat for a couple of minutes and I noticed a place where last year I saw a dude that was playing drums very nicely and it was cool to listen to him. We didn’t stay there for long because we still went to the restaurant to eat something but before we went there a random lady gave FREE COOKIE ICE CREAM to us! While I was walking I held my book without it’s cover because it’s pink and I don’t really wanna go out with pink stuff because I feel like I am showing too much of my secret side with this color. Me and my dad ate these ice creams before we went inside the restaurant but my dad got angry because instead of physical menu to pick up we had to scan the QR code but he was too much NOT FRIENDS WITH TECHNOLOGY that he just came out of the restaurant and I went after him. We were walking and found a pizzeria that we went to last year and ordered two pizzas. Before we got our pizzas we got plates filled with olives, potatoes with onions and cream, eggplant parts and some weird green vegetable.

(Probably a zucchini slices)

Also I got apple juice with 4 ice cubes in it and my dad got one beer like a dad. We were eating our pizzas peacefully and suddenly something amazing happened. A obese young adult lady with red dyed hair FUCKIN’ stole my pizza and tried to run away… and she did, but one of the stuff workers chased her and saw her coming into another pizzeria and… did the same thing, but the whole thing wasn’t only STEALING MY PIECES but also taking someones pizza slice and throwing it at them, scratching one of the stuff ladies arm and when leaving this pizzeria blocking the exit doors and not letting the stuff member that was chasing her leave the restaurant. Instead of being sad because someone took my pizza I started to laugh under my nose quietly so others wouldn’t notice. My dad only saw my smirk and asked me if I feel alright and I said „I think it’s the most entertainment I had in UK so far”. I think I kinda understand why this woman took MY piece of pizza. It was probably because me and my dad sat on the seats next to the exit so it was easier for the crazy lady to take something that was near exit than at the back of the restaurant. One of the stuff members came and told us „I’m sorry but these FUCKING… I mean stupid people will not bother you anymore”. After that she left with the rest of my pizza and gave me a new one FOR FREE! I ate the one piece and we asked the stuff to help us pack the pizza to take it outside so they gave us a pizza box to take with us. My dad before coming out of the store with me asked the Scratched Girl if everything is fine and she said that it’s just a scratch and also asked where were we from, so my dad said „We’re from Poland” and she said „Well… I’m from Russia”. I have no idea what was the rest of their conversation but my dad made a joke that the EASTERN EUROPE was being attacked. If I was good from history I would make a historical joke or a meme now, but I’m not… so not joke for today. Before we left police came to check if everything was ok, but they weren’t stopping us from leaving so we… left. On the way back we were looking at the city of Brighton and right at the train station my dad checked if he had his train ticket and… IT WAS GONE! My dad started to panic but had an idea how to fix this problem. He took his ticket receipt and tried to show it to the woman that was standing next to the ticket receiver. Surprisingly it worked and we waited for our train. When our train came my dad wasn’t sure if it was the right one so he asked me to ask the conductor if we’re in the right one and he said that we were in a right one.

TONGUE TWISTER

When we were heading back to Hastings I decided to start reading Noelle’s book. It was very touching and nice to read. When we arrived to Hastings I was on the 132nd page and I had to close it for a moment and when we came back home I needed to use a toilet and also I used this situation so I could continue reading this amazing book. I finished the entire 194 paged book in a day but everyone probably would do that. After finishing reading it I wanted to tell my friends about my day because I think it was great. After telling some of my friends how was my day I decided to eat my supper and watch with my dad the second episode of Beastars. My dad did like this episode and the whole show. We watched it because we made a small tradition while I am in UK. One day I read one chapter of one of my Warrior Cats books, and the other day we watch a singe episode of Beastars. After all of that I decided to sit and write my day down as a Tumblr Blog post.

Thank you for reading my summery of my day. 08.08 was an amazing day I probably won’t forget because of this post and maybe because I told my friends about this. As I said I'll try to post tomorrow how my other days have been because there’s so much stuff I wanna get off my chest.

[simstationdance]

@jeebie-sims​ asked: for the headcanon meme: Daniel Pleasant, Johnny Smith, and Mortimer Goth

ok so i apparently had a lot to say about these three, especially johnny and mortimer because they are favorites of mine. i was also inspired by the pictures u put in your answers to the shipping asks, so i decided to pair a few pictures with my answers.

i would’ve answered this as a regular ask, but for some reason, applying a read more to an ask applies it to the ‘question’ part of the post and not the actual body of the post where it should be, and not actually truncating the post at all. i couldn’t fix it no matter what i tried and eventually i gave up. tumblr is a Functional Website.

answers under the cut because i’m a turbo nerd who wrote way too much. i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

(headcanon ask meme)

Daniel Pleasant

Sexuality Headcanon: straight

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: daniel x marriage counseling. no, really.

ok but in all seriousness, it’s obvious that dan and mary sue really really need to work their shit out and i don’t think they could do it easily, if at all. if nothing else, they’d stay together for their public image I MEAN their kids whom they clearly love sooo muuuch 

(meanwhile i’m certain angela and lilith - especially lilith - would rather their parents divorced because the tension in the house is so fucking thick you could cut it with a knife, and that’s not a healthy environment to grow up in)

i don’t really ship him with anybody, to be honest. i know he’s with kaylynn on the side but i don’t personally see her sticking around, especially in the aftermath of a destroyed marriage.

unless he actually gets his shit together, i can’t imagine him being able to fully commit to a relationship, as evidenced by his abysmal relationship with his own wife.

A BROTP I have with said character: hmmm. maybe dan and don would be friends? i mean, they’re both cheaters, and they’d become social pariahs for it, but they’d be in it together, at least. meanwhile, their respective marital exes can get together to actually have a happy relationship.

for all i know, don might’ve actually convinced dan to take the plunge into debauchery in the first place. like he was like “don’t you miss when you were a carefree bachelor, dan?” and dan’s like “yeah man i miss that life” because its obvious he’s going thru a mid life crisis, so don basically encourages him - wittingly or not - to cheat on his wife. and they’re probably unaware that they’re both dating the maid.

oh fuck. now that i think about it this makes perfect sense.

A NOTP I have with said character: i guess daniel and mary sue? like, it’s an obvious answer but i literally almost always expose him as a cheater to her when i play the pleasants lmao their relationship really does not stand a chance.

A random headcanon: daniel usually prefers peace and quiet, so the constant arguing between his daughters - mixed with his poor relationship with his wife and the secret he keeps from her at the start of the game - makes it very hard for him to want to be around his own family.

instead of taking more initiative to take control of his domestic life, daniel instead opts to run from his problems. because he’s a Bastard. he envies his sister for having a healthier marriage than he does, unaware (or unwilling to entertain the thought) that perhaps jennifer and john have their own problems too.

General Opinion over said character: daniel is an absolute wet moldy rag of a man and his soap-opera-esque suffering amuses me.

Mortimer Goth

Sexuality Headcanon: pansexual.

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: i mean, the obvious answer would be mortimer x bella 5evr. they really are, or... were, a lovely couple. back in the sims 1 days, they were the ‘adorably eccentric’ goth family.

his wife had her strange magic, and he had his weird science, and together they were a power couple to end all power couples. but the thing is, i don’t imagine their relationship was built to last.  mortimer had far more ‘energy’ than bella did, and although they were a match, it was often difficult for her to keep up with him and his... mortimerisms. obviously bella had her quirks, but mortimer was something else. people often wondered how they managed to work together.

and as for his relationship with dina in the sims 2... well, the way i see it is, after bella’s disappearance, mortimer was utterly distraught. dina came to introduce herself and perhaps comfort him, since she was bella’s former sister in law, and in his weakness, things slowly escalated.

but even in his old age, mortimer is a highly intelligent and intuitive man who, i think, could read just about anyone like a book. if dina was just a run of the mill gold digger, he would’ve dropped her like a rock because he’s smarter than that. therefore, i’m almost certain that their relationship goes deeper than dina being interested in his wealth.

A BROTP I have with said character: this might seem odd, but mortimer and bonehilda in both the sims 1 and the sims 2. listen, i know she doesn’t appear in the sims 2... officially. but that doesn’t stop me from modding her into the game. and i have done exactly that.

the best part about acquiring the skeleton maid was that mortimer finally had somebody to ramble endlessly to about his latest ideas, the things that kept him up at night, but he didn’t want to bother bella while she was trying to sleep.

previously, he’d get an idea and would enthusiastically slams the door open like “BELLA I JUST HAD AN AMAZING IDEA!!!” and bella, laying in bed, would say “it’s the middle of the night and i have a golf tournament in the morning, dear.” and at that, mortimer would back out and slowly and quietly close the door.

so while bonehilda was tidying up the house, he would be essentially pacing around and talking to himself. thinking aloud helped him keep his thoughts in order - he has so many of them - and she would dutifully listen to his every word.

unfortunately he eventually had to retire the maid, she would frequently emerge from her coffin at inopportune times while bella was entertaining guests and they’d run out screaming.

bella also got tired of her drinking her cocktails and leaving puddles everywhere.

A NOTP I have with said character: i’d make jokes about it but i probably wouldn’t ship him with his skeleton maid. other than that i can’t think of any.

A random headcanon: mortimer is the very definition of mad scientist. open the page in the dictionary and you will find his picture.

being a knowledge sim, i feel like mortimer would do anything in the pursuit of knowledge, because he’s perpetually overwhelmed with curiosity and a desire to understand everything about the world, even if that often drives him to doing strange and, perhaps, unethical things in the name of science...

his curiosity led him to his chosen field in the first place. he was a bit of an amateur scientist even before then. as he rose through the ranks in his career and gained more notoriety for his scientific pursuits, he also took quite a lot of heat - some of his more bizarre experiments caused a great deal of scandals in his younger years.

he always managed to get back in the public’s favor, and he eventually got the last laugh against the press because he retired with a huge fortune.

General Opinion over said character: i’ve never been able to put my finger on it, but something about mortimer has always, ALWAYS felt extremely shady to me... and that’s what makes him interesting.

Johnny Smith

Sexuality Headcanon: bi

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: johnny x ophelia is cute, but johnny x ripp is also cute. you know what’s even cuter? all three of them together. they are so wholesome and good.

in my experience with strangetown (both in my current project and in an abandoned uberhood i did a while back), ripp usually has no romantic interest in ophelia and 100% interest in johnny, just on his own. their lack of feelings for each other, however, doesn’t stop them from both being with johnny, if they ever decided to do so. the only thing stopping them is their own personal convictions and... fear. as is the standard for these kinds of relationships, it would take a A Lot Of Work.

i’m sure johnny really loves them both, just in different ways. i see him as being the very physically affectionate friend who gives hugs out like candy and they both love him for it because they’re both touch starved as fuck. (that’s what you get when you have olive specter and buzz grunt as parental figures)

even tho it’s his first, the progression of his relationship with ophelia feels very natural to him. meanwhile, the idea of him and ripp together has never crossed his mind, not because he wouldn’t be interested, but because... um, well, he has a girlfriend, so... imagining himself with people other than his girlfriend would be weeeeird, you know? yeah...

he might also be a little oblivious, so that’s probably why he hasn’t picked up on ripp being weird around him yet. so ripp’s watching johnny be affectionate with ophelia like “god i wish that were me” and then johnny’s like “ripp are you ok” and ripp is like “haha yeah bro i’m great!!! :’)”

he’s always there for ophelia, and if ripp were willing to open up to johnny more often, he’d do the same for him.

A BROTP I have with said character: johnny!!! and!!! ripp!!!

whenever ripp is at johnny’s house, Which Is Often, they usually play SSX 3 together. johnny is better at it than ripp is, but at least ripp can beat him at darts on the dartboard on the back porch. they’re equally matched when it comes to playing pool, however.

they also really like to make dumb jokes at each other, including dumb puns and other such groan-inducing jokes read from vintage joke books and candy wrappers.

A NOTP I have with said character: hm... i can’t think of any because i don’t really ship him with anyone other than his two friends.

i could say johnny and tank but honestly that would be a total lie because i can imagine plenty of reasons to ship them, oddly enough. i don’t, but i can see why some do.

A random headcanon: johnny has basically spent his entire life surrounded by people - family, friends, etc. - to the point where being totally alone actually scares him quite a lot. he’s a popularity sim after all.

and, as unhealthy as it is, he really feels like its’ his responsibility to bring balance to ripp and ophelia’s lives by being the fun cheerful affectionate buddy, who always tries to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on. he’s a little scared that if he didn’t hold them together at their worst, then they’d fall apart.

it’s a lot of work and he loses sleep from it sometimes because holding other people together is Actually! Very! Stressful! but he dreams of being a hero on a white horse and all, so if he has to, he will be the hero they need. he doesn’t want them to worry about him, he doesn’t want them to feel like they’re burdening him, so he never tells them that.

General Opinion over said character: 

[mimir-anoshe]

💧&🔥

Just a bit of Cursed/Nimulot analysis… Cause I’m bored. And I might have found some interesting parallels/imagery watching it through for the 7 billionth time that I would love to share. If anyone enjoys writing meta… Which I mean I know some of y’all need your fix… Feel free to use anything/expand upon it. I would, but I’m a new fur-mumma and she’s taking up all my waking hours, so this little shit-post about this new hell hole of a ship I’ve dove headfirst into will have to do. The images are from a video and show produced by Netflix, I own nothing, so pls don’t be a bitch about it Tumblr.

***SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW!!! WATCH IT AND COME BACK!! OR DON’T? ANYHOO YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!*** ⚠️  

- beware Tumblr app users, it may be your doom -

Where to begin, with the teaser? Or with…

THE SHOW! Here be just a wee few times the writers/director(s) through the writing/cinematography have mirrored these two ‘protect the kid - warriors till the end’ idiots. I’m sure others have picked up on them… Not in any particular order, here ya go anyway.

1x02 - 1x10

*Insert spiderman pointing at spiderman meme*

One scar made by an actual dark god tricking her when she was a child, the others by a very human evil tricking him when he was a child and the consequences for both lasting into adulthood.

1x02 - 1x10

Look at the years of trauma Anakin, look at it! They even use the same damn word! The phonetic tones of disgust! The outcast syndrome! Oof. (And it’s not like Nimue being called demon has to do with a general racial-slur from a human, that is a fey calling her that from her own village!) They both grew up viewing themselves as “demons”, the “abominations”. Even their expressions are the same, fear and sorrow and self-hatred. All they both want is to be accepted! (By their fathers especially). To be loved.

The two who are “cursed.”

1x02 - 1x01

*says nothing*

1x04 - 1x01

“Where to begin? With water or with fire?”

Where to begin? WHERE TO BEGIN??? *dies*

Water ☯ Fire

Sword up  ☯ Sword down

Light/Day  ☯  Dark/Shadow

Life & Death (Life around her, death in the water) ☯ Death & Life (forest fires make way for new growth)

Long bit: Both characters are associated to the elements of water and fire individually through the environment/cinematography/colour pallet/colour symbolism, and then water and fire is mirrored between them. She is overall water, he is overall fire; but they also have a bit of the other in each other.

For Nimue this symbolism is often done through her environment, showing her connection to nature as the fey queen and that she does not hide who she is if she can help it. She does not hide externally, so her elemental symbolism becomes EXTERNAL.

Whilst for Lancelot though he is often surrounded by fire, the idea of water/tears is either symbolised through the fairy tale style of the artwork or referenced for him through his name as “the weeping monk.” Hinted at in his characterisation of guilt and self-loathing, the way other characters respond to him (”the one who cries”/”you see it all through those weeping eyes”). His main conflict is an Internal fight between who he is and who he needs to become, so a lot of his main symbolism surrounding water (and even fire as pertaining to magic - ashfolk - and not killing fey) is INTERNALISED, hidden, cut off from the Hidden themselves. Symbolic of him hiding his connection to the fey and that other side of himself, the “human” (morally speaking) side, and therefore hiding who he truly is… Lancelot.

For Nimue, fire means life. Being chosen and her magic saving people. For Lancelot fire means Death, his deeds, “the fires of hell” and the destruction of the “ash” folk and his heritage. He believes hell fire is his fate, going by the “even if I am damned.”

For Nimue, water means death. In the water she takes revenge, where that Paladin almost drowned her. Into the water she falls, where they think her shot dead by arrows. The water is her fate as the Lady of the Lake. For Lancelot, water means life. Tears, emotions, taking responsibility, feeling the weight of his guilt and mourning for the things he has done/lost. For him, water - not ash -means a second chance to be better. To put out the fires and heal.

Though in the end, for both of them, water & fire most of all represent death and rebirth.

1x03

^If you don’t understand I can’t help you. ☯

1x01 - 1x07

Now this one I found quite interesting. Remember that even if Nimue directed the second one, it is still the Power/will of the Hidden at play. (Or should I say the will of the Writers/director) Chosen? Mirrors? Night and Day? Fire… Embers to Ashes? We shall see, but I think it was definitely on purpose.

^I’ll just leave that here, the fuckers kept missing each other for an entire season (WHICH WAS ON PURPOSE THE WRITERS DID THAT ON PURPOSE just as an fyi). The fact that there is this much sexual tension, anticipation, mirroring, fate, destiny and chemistry between two characters who have never even mET should be ILLEGAL! They affect each other immeasurably without ever even meeting, so imagine what will happen when they do...? *pterodactyl screech*

Whelp there ye go. Under the next gif I also did a bit on the Teaser trailer, as that just fucked me up a bit I have to tell you! Up to you whether you want to continue digesting my mad ramblings or not. *Shrug* Thanks for coming to my TED talk guys– 😂 Somebody fucking smite me down like the eldritch horror of writing I am dear god think of the children…

THE OFFICIAL TEASER TRAILER:

Arthur running for the Sword of Power, because you know, King Arthur.

“The Legend says…” The Legend of King Arthur and his Sword Excalibur/Caliburnus? The line is very meta, a reference to the in world legend that this story will create, but it’s also expecting the audience to be savvy of the actual legend of King Arthur and his knights. Both these ideas intertwined into one. Aka, the trailer expects us to have pre-decided expectations for the story we’re now being told, because we’ve already been told it before; this fairy tale of celtic myth/history. All the “spoilers” about Arthur, his lineage, Morgana, Guinevere, the Knights, even the lady of the Lake herself come with that knowledge. However…

Surprise surprise, the Weeping Monk (killer of fae)/ Lancelot (eventually Arthur’s most trusted KNIGHT) instead picks up the fae sword from it being embedded in the ground, subverting our expectation, it definitely fucking subverted mine, but not in a GOT way, in a ~good~ way. I was like, “Whosoever be this fine hooded fellow hath stole away both sword and my good sense!!! 👀”

Also harkening back to the legend of the sword in the stone (another expectation), which the action itself signifies that person be - as Merlin so eloquently puts - “The one true king.”

Ok… Symbolic wink wink nudge nudge towards his true nature (inside and out), saving Percival, potentially becoming the greatest warrior and protector of his people and eventually a Knight of the Round Table; and perhaps King of our Hearts??? Ok, sure thing “concept” trailer. I’ll bite.

Ok… *deep breath*

WHOMSt the fUCK decided to frame (fae “ashman”) ?Lancelot? with the ~SWORD OF KINGS~ (also of fae origin) A N D the line…‘the one true king’ ALL IN ONE… instead of Arthur?

‘BELONGS to the one true King?’ Belongs, hmm interesting word choice… This done in a worms eye view shot meant to make the viewer feel like the character is above/superior/basically we’re kneeling before them? (Which I mean sure? but…) Hmm??? HMMM??? I don’t understand CONCEPT Trailer what is the CONCEPT you’re trying to get across? One hand on his paladin sword and the other on “fae hope” Excalibur I get, he has to make an important decision, one that will either save his humanity (and his people) or destroy it (them), yeah yeah sure that’s F I N E…

…but what about the “KING” SHIT HMMM?? Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class? *sips tea whilst staring straight into the camera*

it may mean nothing don’t quote me

…Anwaaaay… We all know in a fight Lancelot can kick Arthur’s ass so that’s not whats going on here. Arthur is P I S S E D. They’re not just bog standard enemies here. I mean WPM kicking him in the ribs was pretty “fuck you” and they were just enemies there. In this instance the sword is in play, Weeping Monk has taken something from Arthur that he feels “BELONGS” to him - in this case symbolised by WPM taking “his” sword - and that’s making it personal.

“You stole my sword ya bitch!” And what is the sword linked to? Power? Sure. The right of being a King? Yep. And also a certain Queen…  No no no, this is the Concept of rivalry. It shows that whatever relationship Arthur and his “Knight” will have in the future after all the “die die die” starts to sizzle down will - in its genesis - be a rivalry. Probably mirroring Gawain and Arthur when they first met to an extent. A rivalry for power? For something else? Who Knows!

*whistles innocently*

And down down down he goes. He’s FALLING. There are many metaphorical concepts associated to FALLING… Falling from “grace” (in the eyes of the Church)… Falling because he has a sky full of guilt crashing down upon him… falling for h… falling in Lo… into the Water!!!! Until he is completely submerged. Water, the idea of cleansing, of washing away who you once were/trauma/sins of the past so you may be reborn a better version of yourself. His old ideals are defeated, he submits to his true heritage and allows it to wash around him so he may begin to heal.

Though if we’re talking metaphors, water is - for obvious reasons - always associated with the LADY OF THE LAKE… Nimue. He has fallen into her world. (pss he’s gonna fall for the Chick in the Lake - I think - there ye go). Water is associated to memory/reflections and mirrors. And he is CRASHING through this mirror… This idea of reflections/mirror images is even more ironic when you’ve watched the show.  

And as he falls beneath the water with the sword of a King, she rises out of it, with the sword of a Queen… Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s in the biggest shipping hell of them all? Either these two are going to be really good at relay, or there’s some conceptual significance here. The specifics? No fecking clue, will need to wait for a season 2! There is also some interesting use of Z~oo~m in this last bit, but I’m sure it’s pretty obvious to you all. Summary: just visually in a concept “teaser” trailer, the zoom in on them both, the reverse mirroring, the literal and symbolic visual of water and the Sword (of rulers) connecting them frames these two characters together, that’s just in the concept trailer. Links their legend together. TBH IT LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE LANCELOT FELL INTO THE WATER AND TURNED INTO NIMUE  WHAT IS THIS GREEK SOULMATE SHIT I’M–

*calms down* This trailer and the show also definitely said to the original Arthurian Legend “RIP but I’m different.” I mean, Nimue is definitely not Lancelot’s mother figure in this one, that’s all I’m saying.

I think this legend might be a wee bit different 😉*cackles*

[irwingiggling]

westbrook | pt. 6

gang!ashton; gang!5sos

[pt. 1] [pt. 2] [pt. 3] [pt. 4] [pt. 5]

[Image credit: @not-grey-enough]

A/N: Wowww it’s been such a long time since I updated this story (yikes!). Some of my breaks from tumblr last longer than others, but I always find myself coming back here eventually. University has been a wild ride for me, but I honestly fell in love with this story and I feel like it deserves to be completed. I hope to finish it for you guys. This chapter has been sitting on my laptop for ages in draft form, and this weekend I finally added some scenes and finished it up for you guys.  No promises on when the next chapter will be coming, but I do have some scenes drafted for that.

Summary: In which Ashton is one of the leaders of the Westbrook Dragons, a gang who often feuds with the Vipers for control of the streets. After hearing of her estranged father’s death, Marina comes to Westbrook to fix up his house and sell it. Coming from a privileged neighborhood, the last thing Marina expects is to move in next door to a gang’s hideout.

Word Count: 4,100+ 

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language, drug references)

The next few weeks after the Dragons meeting were fairly uneventful. Marina and Ashton were still taking things slow, for the most part. Ashton had been busier than usual with the Dragons (some kind of territory issues, that he didn't care to elaborate on when Marina asked). In the meantime, Marina had continued to plunge her time into the house. Of course some things had been delayed, and what was originally a week's worth of work had turned into a month, but the house was now essentially completed. In fact her realtor, Steve, had scheduled an appointment to meet with her one last time before the final round of showings with the most serious prospective buyers.

Marina had an oddly bittersweet feeling about the entire thing. The house was what was keeping her here, with Ashton, but how would things change once it was sold? Would the two of them stay together in this fledgling relationship? Would she move back home? She got a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about the possibility of moving back to the life she'd once lived, with her mother's flower shop. The only world she'd ever known, the place that had once given her so much safety and purpose, had now been completely flipped on its head. Her mother felt like a fraud, a sham. Just another everyday flower shop making a modest income, falsely elevated to the level of luxury through the use of her father's drug money. And confronting her mother would only lead to more questions, especially ones pertaining to how Marina had found out the information in the first place.

She felt a sense of security and familiarity with Westbrook that was growing stronger every day. But sometimes she still felt like a stranger in her father's old house.

It was some time in the wee hours of the morning, and Marina was currently sleeping soundly in her bed. In just a few hours she would have her final meeting with Steve, and Marina was getting some well-deserved rest after a busy day of putting up the final touches around the house. That is, until everything changed, and unfamiliar footsteps and voices outside her open window caused her to bolt upright in bed.

She'd had Ashton's number saved in her phone for a while, now - he told her she needed it just in case. This was around the same time he practically accosted her about Steve, when she was getting into her car. Back when she was still desperately trying to convince herself that Ashton was a terrible person.

"Ash?" she whispered. It came out so quiet, she wasn't sure that he even heard her, but she didn't want the sound to travel. She was shaking so violently that she was sure the sound on the other end was all rustled and unclear.

"Yeah?" he grumbled, sounding like he'd just woken up. He probably had, it was 3am after all.

"I think- I think someone's trying to break in."

"What?" he asked, louder and more coherently this time. She could almost picture him bolting upright in his bed, thoughts of sleep instantly vanishing from his brain.

"Ash what do I do?" she asked in a hysterical whisper, flinching so hard she nearly dropped the phone when she heard someone fiddling with the lock to the back door. It was across the house from her bedroom, but in the dead silence of the night, she could clearly hear the lock being jiggled and pried apart.

"Shit, where are you?" he asked, breathing heavily into the phone, sounding like he was running. She heard the slight jingle of keys on the line, and knew he was on the way out of his apartment.

"I'm- I'm under my bed," she said, silent tears now running down her face. She was frozen and absolutely petrified.

"You stay right there, ok babygirl? Don't make a sound. I'm coming, I'll be right there, ok? I promise."

"Ok," she whispered, voice breaking as a lump built in her throat.

She didn't hear any noise for a couple minutes, waiting with bated breath, laying on her side to fit under her bed, knees tucked to her chin, in the fetal position. She desperately hoped the intruder had decided to leave, but she knew the thought was too good to be true even as she tried to convince herself. Soon enough she heard slow, steady footfalls against the floor, making their way from one end of the house to the other. Her throat tightened in terror so much that she could barely breathe. Every breath she took felt like she was silently choking, hands shaking as they pressed into her knees, face itchy and raw as salty tear tracks ran down her cheeks.

"I know you're in here," a deep voice said. A pair of black leather boots came into view of the doorway. The voice chuckled quietly. "You tell your little boyfriend that-"

He couldn't finish the rest of his sentence because another figure came flying in behind him, sending the first man to the ground. The two immediately started trading punches, both fighting to get the upper hand. All Marina could see was a sliver of floor from her position underneath the bed, but she could hear the punches and the grunts as items were thrown around and knocked over. She knew it was Ashton. She saw a flash of his curls one time he got knocked to the ground.

She heard Ashton hiss and her heart leapt to her throat. Was he ok? Shortly afterwards, another pair of boots came into the room, and then another.

A hand reached under the bed and she immediately recognized it as Ashton's.

"C'mon!" he said urgently, and she grabbed ahold, allowing herself to be dragged out from under the bed. Ashton shielded her from the others in the room - she caught a sliver of two figures, black curls and golden curls, standing over another figure, before Ashton pulled her down the hallway, and out into the cool night.

He hopped on his motorcycle and she climbed in behind him, shaking hands fumbling to wrap themselves around his stomach as quickly as possible. As soon as she was secured, the motorcycle roared to life, and Ashton set off at a breakneck speed down the otherwise quiet country road.

---

Ashton helped her into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind them. He guided her onto the couch and sat down beside her. She was still shaking a little bit, but partly that was due to the thin pajama set she was wearing, just pale pink silk shorts and a matching spaghetti strap top. Ashton noticed this and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it securely around her.

"You're ok," he soothed gently, right hand smoothing her hair. "You're safe here, no one can get you now."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. Finally she looked up, looking at Ashton fully for the first time since the break in.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, fingers flying up to inspect his cheek. The gash was shallow, but a couple inches long. Smeared, dried blood surrounded the area. The skin underneath his right eye was red and puffy - she was sure it would be bruised and blackened by tomorrow.

"It's fine," he said, brushing her fingers away. "What about you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no," she shook her head quickly. "Just shook me up, that's all." She was still shaking, and she put her arms around herself to try and stop it. Ashton noticed and immediately engulfed her in his embrace, pulling her closer so she was sitting on his lap, facing him.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. "I should've thought-" he cut himself off, in annoyance.

"It's not your fault, Ash."

---

Neither of them could sleep fully, instead they drifted in and out of consciousness as they held each other tightly on the couch. Hours later, when the first rays of sunlight began to seep in through the partly closed blinds, there was a knock on the door.

Calum came in, dark curls bouncing on his head. "We got him to talk." The sleeves of his leather jacket were pulled up slightly, exposing his tanned, tattooed arms. His face looked sullen, lips pursed into a straight line. He continued walking, and Ashton and Marina followed him to the far back of the apartment, into the study.

As Ashton closed the door behind them, Marina's stomach twisted - she didn't even want to think about what they did in order to get him to talk.

Ashton gave a curt nod towards Calum and raised his eyebrows, silently willing his partner to continue.

"He's linked to Parsons."

"Fuck," Ashton cursed lowly.

"Steve?" Marina asked, eyebrows raising. "Steve, my realtor?"

Calum nodded, biting down hard on his lower lip.

"Fuck!" Ashton said louder, making his right hand into a fist. "I knew it!"

"You told me about him, how'd you know?" Marina asked.

Ashton shook his head. "Something about him just seemed... off."

"Ok but what was he trying to do?"

"They trashed the house. He's trying to threaten us. I knew he had ties to the Vipers," he spat.

"But what does that have to do with the house?" Marina asked.

"They know.. about us," Ashton sighed, running a hand through his curls while reaching out to thread Marina's fingers in his own. Marina caught his eye, and stared at him, prompting him for more.

"They're trying to send a message. They're trying to scare you, trying to scare me, it's.... bullshit," he finished, looking away and shaking his head angrily.

"Cal, can you get the guys to clean everything up?" Ashton asked, looking over at Calum who had temporarily been forgotten.

"Yeah, course mate," Calum nodded, leaving the room.

"So..." Ashton began, taking Marina's hands in his own. She was sitting on the chair behind the study desk, while Ashton was sitting on top of the desk, facing towards her so their legs were jumbled together. "I think it might be safest if I stayed at the house, for a little while at least, just to make sure you're protected in case they try anything else. What do you think about that?" he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on her hands which he was holding between his own.

"Yeah," she nodded. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "That's probably safest," she said, getting caught up in the honey brown of his eyes. "And... I would like that," she smiled gently, moving her fingertips underneath his leather jacket, hugging him close.

Ashton smiled back. He pressed his lips against hers gently, then moved up to kiss her forehead.

---

Marina woke up the next night in a cold sweat, bolting upright as her eyes shot open. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the complete darkness of the room. As her breathing slowed down, her posture relaxed slightly - if she hadn't been stabbed yet, she figured it was probably just a dream.

Just then, warm fingertips touched her skin, as Ashton shifted beside her.

"Shh it's ok Mar, I got you," he mumbled, rubbing soothing circles into her skin with the pads of his fingertips. "Lay down babygirl, it was just a dream. You're safe."

Marina instantly relaxed, sinking into Ashton's grip. She huddled up close to him, pressing her back firmly against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her there. He leaned over to press gentle butterfly kisses to her exposed shoulder. She held his forearms as they wrapped around her, shutting her eyes before drifting back to sleep, this time to peaceful dreams.

When she woke up the next morning, she was still in Ashton's grip.

"Ash," she whispered, trying to move his arms away. He just mumbled something incoherent and pulled her even closer, nuzzling his face into her neck. "Ash," she repeated, giggling softly as she pressed herself against his arms. "I gotta pee."

He sighed overdramatically, still not even bothering to open his eyes, but he did loosen his grip, allowing her to climb out of bed. Marina was starting to love the mornings - it was the one time in the whole day where Ash was soft and sleepy, the one time where he didn't need to be closed off and hardened by the world around him.

---

"What are you up to today?" Marina asked, stirring her coffee, watching the amber liquid swirling in her ceramic mug, creating a vortex.

Ashton gave a small smirk. "I'm gonna make Parsons pay for what he did," he said casually, eating a bite of toast.

Marina's gaze flicked up to his eyes, the easy nature in her voice immediately dropping. "Ashton do you really think that's the best idea?" she asked in a tone that told him it wasn't.

Ashton looked over at her, studying her. "Yes, Marina I do. He needs to know he's messing with the wrong people. I won't let him walk all over you or me."

Marina sighed, placing her mug down on the table. "I know what he did was wrong, but is violence really the answer? I was exploring some legal routes, in fact I drafted an email to my mother's lawyer already to set up a meeting. Maybe I could get a restraining order, or have him pay some kind of restitution fee or something."

Ashton shook his head. "A fee? Marina he needs to pay for what he did, and I don't mean through money or a piece of paper. That's never going to stop him, he'll just come back."

"Okay but I'm not sure that's the best way to fix this," she replied, sighing quietly in frustration that Ashton wasn't understanding her point of view.

"Well it's not really your decision to make, Marina-"

"What are you talking about, this happened in my house!" she fired back.

"Yeah but it happened because of me! He's trying to get to me by going through you."

"Ashton I don't think you understand-"

"I don't think you understand!" he exclaimed, cutting her off. "This isn't the world of private schools and cheques, Marina. This is the cold, hard, real world. And in the real world, you pay with your body."

"And I'm telling you I don't want you to do that Ashton, just listen to me!"

He got up abruptly, chair scraping across the newly polished floors. "Don't tell me what to do," he retorted coldly, quickly pacing the length of the living room.

"Where are you going?" she yelled, as she watched him make his way over to the door.

"Out," he replied curtly, the door shutting heavily behind him.

---

Ashton had been in fights before, but he'd never lost it like this. Once he saw Parsons he kept punching and punching until he couldn't see or feel anything anymore. A few minutes past the point at which Parsons had been knocked unconscious, Luke and Calum finally had to pull Ashton off of him, dragging him back into the car as he fought against them the whole way, trying to escape from their grasp and run back. At this point he couldn't tell whether Parsons was alive or not and he came to the realization that either way, he didn't care. As the four comrades drove down the streets of Westbrook in a blacked-out car, Michael dialled 911 from a burner phone. Ashton's hands were still locked into fists, steadily dripping blood onto the grey carpet of the vehicle.

---

"I've never... felt like that," Ashton said quietly, 20 minutes later with his right hand in a pail of ice cubes and his left hand holding a glass of stiff bourbon. He stared at the drink as he swirled it, as if it would give him answers as it caught the dim light of the room, glittering gold. When they got back to the apartment he had quickly showered off and changed, but some of his cuts had started bleeding again. He couldn't be bothered to care.

"Because this wasn't really about the house, or the drugs," Calum said, leaning against the faded wallpapered room, taking a long drag from his cigarette and exhaling, the smoke floating around the room.

Ashton didn't reply. He just sat there, letting the deafening silence consume him. The quiet sound of Calum puffing the smoke in then letting it out again was the only sound either of them heard for a while.

After a few more drags, Cal examined his cigarette, then squinted at Ashton. "You love her." He didn't even ask it as a question, it was a statement.

Ashton gulped back the last of the burnt orange liquid, setting the glass down on the table with a sharp clink. He reached over for the bottle but Cal swiped it from him before he could get a grip on it.

"Don't fuck it up with her because of this," Calum said. Ashton just stared at him, eyes tired, one limp curl hanging against his forehead. He held his hand out for the bottle, wordlessly. Calum studied him for a few seconds, before handing the bottle back. But instead of pouring another glass, Ashton set the bottle back on the table. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely even noticed his one hand was dripping wet from the ice water. He sniffed, setting his hands in his lap to examine his right hand. He splayed his fingers out, then made them into a fist. His knuckles were swollen, a slow trickle of blood still coming from the far left one. Then he brought his gaze up, staring hard at the door, jaw set. After a few moments, he got up and grabbed his keys from the table, wordlessly shutting the door behind him as he left.

---

Marina answered the door wordlessly, surveying him. She stood aside to let him in, and shut and locked the door behind him. He bent down to take his shoes off and she took this opportunity to leave, heading down the hallway to the bathroom. He took a seat at the kitchen table while she came back with the first aid kit, setting it down and taking a seat next to him.

She couldn't hold back the sigh when she surveyed his hand up close and personal. She set his hand down on the table and opened a bottle of disinfectant, dipping a cotton pad into it and spreading it over any open wounds. He hissed as the liquid made contact with his cuts, but didn't move. She added some antibiotic cream to speed the healing and prevent infection, and added a few bandaids here and there where they were needed. One of the larger gashes required a butterfly bandage. There was nothing she could do about the black eye that had nearly healed from the first fight, now red and purple again from this new one.

She was quiet, too quiet.

She handed him a coffee, wordlessly, hands shaking slightly as she put it on the table.

"What's wrong?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nothing," she said too quickly, in a voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows drew together. "Hey," he said gently, putting his arm around her wrist.

"Please don't touch me," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, wincing at his touch.

He immediately let go, sinking back as if he'd been stung.

"Babygirl," he said, a pained expression on his face. "Are you... scared of me?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.

She kept her gaze fixed to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Her silence was enough of an answer for him.

"Fuck," he whispered, the breath wheezing out of him as the word left his mouth.

When she finally gathered up the courage to look up, he was staring at the wall, eyes glassy. "I would never, in a million years, ever even think about hurting you. You are everything to me. You know that right?" he asked.

She nodded gently.

"But in my line of work, sometimes words aren't enough. Sometimes legalities don't help. And I have to protect the people I care about, if they're ever threatened. He's not dead, Mar. I know you didn't want that. I just made sure that he wouldn't ever come after you again."

She nodded once, in acknowledgement.

"But I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you, I'm sorry I just left. That was wrong of me," he finished quietly.

She simply nodded again, biting her fingernail absentmindedly. She was wearing a thick cardigan, and her other arm was wrapped tightly around herself, holding the fabric close.

Ashton held out his hand towards her - slowly, gently. After a few seconds, she took it. "C'mere," he whispered. He removed his other hand from his lap and held it outwards, making space on his lap for her. She took the couple steps forward and sat down. He gently wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest, taking a deep breath. She focused on his heartbeat, clear and strong in her ears, and on the fabric of his soft flannel, the jacket he always wore over top smelling of worn leather and cigars. She felt him kiss the top of her forehead.

"I don't want you to die," she said, in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"Shhh," he soothed into her ear, running his hand through her hair over and over again, watching the rings on his fingers glinting in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. "That's never going to happen. I promise you."

She shook her head. "I can't do this, Ashton. I can't let you go every day wondering if I'll ever see you again, if you're ok, if one of your deals has gone bad. Every time I hug you I feel the gun on your hip. And I know you said you've never used it, but what if one day you do?"

"Hey," he said, cupping her chin, bringing it up to be level with his. "Don't think like that." He kissed her gently, her bottom lip slotting between his own. He pulled her close again, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I know I've never said anything like this before but it's been eating me up. I wanna raise a family with you one day, Ash. I wanna have a dog and a fucking sandbox in the backyard. I wanna see you dress up in a pink tutu with our little girl. But I don't wanna worry about holding our kids tighter every time someone passes by, or seeing their chalk hopscotch squares destroyed by graffiti the next morning."

He smiled, eyes getting teary again but this time for a different reason. He was happy, so happy around her. She made him see a life outside of the gang. They would always be his brothers, but he wanted to invite them over for a barbeque, not a break in. She inspired him to be a better person every single day. There was no other way to say it. He knew that Marina's father had started up the business, but one day the time would be right to end it, or at least pass it on.

"I love you," he murmured, staring into her eyes.

She smiled. It was her turn to tear up now. "I love you too." She laughed gently, pressing their foreheads together.

"I promise you we'll get out of here. I'll help you sell this damn house that's nothing but trouble," he chuckled lightly, "and we'll move far away. What do you think about Oregon? I heard it's nice there."

"Mmm," she mumbled, closing her eyes and just listening to his voice. She reached up to cover a yawn with her left hand. After all of this, her eyelids were starting to get heavy.

He chuckled. "Are you getting sleepy, babygirl? Let's get you to bed."

He carried her up the stairs and laid her gently down on the bed. He got in beside her and pulled the covers up around them. She fell asleep less than a minute later, head against his chest. He fell asleep soon after to the sound of her steady breathing.

[thiah-2]

~~ 10/5/20: I removed the image of my outline; I felt like it was WAY too spoilery. Have a random dollmaker sorta picture of Cass instead bc Tumblr says ‘This is a picture post and therefore must have a picture. ~~

AO3 link

I’ve been thinking about posting my outline for a few weeks now; I’ve seen people do it in the past, on rare occasion. (I’m ok showing this to give readers a better understanding of how much I have written, my writing process, and RD's future.) I have been writing, just not the fucking next chapter (far left tab). Its about two gawdamn weeks late. Shit. 

9: Normal′s posting date is about mid-June, and that chapter isn’t written either. 10: Attraction has snippets and 11: Coast has been finished since *checks* late February. (I made minor tweaks and additions since then.) [I should have waited a year and started posting in 2021. But I didn’t fucking wanna.] Lessee. 13: What? is about 1/4 done. 14: Development is about 3/4 done. (14 and 17 mental note: Fix 17′s “R’s never been to C’s apartment on his own” ... but I have him there by himself in 14... This is what happens when you write out of order and don’t pay attention to the facts. XD) 15: Wheels is basically done. I think 15: TTotM is about half done? Idk I added to my outline. For normal chapter length, it’s close to done. But it has about 1/3 of the content.

18: Birthday is SO FUCKING DONE. Nailed it. Has been done since early November 2019 (some minor tweaks/edits). NaNo 2019 is when I picked RD back up after ten fucking years. Also, 72 is a year later (2021) and this chapter has content. XDDDDD I LOVE 18. I wrote almost all of it in one day. It has an alternate, very explicit ending. Which yes, will be posted. 😈 Currently this is my favorite chapter.

Sooo... ffr, for future reference, if I ever say a chapter is done, there’s always minor tweaks or editing that takes place. I reread my chapters all the time and go “Oh, lookit that mistake!” or add in some teeny little tweak. If you ever find a typo, or even a timeline/reality mistake, PLEASE don’t hesitate to shoot me an Ask or leave a comment and nicely go “Hey, I found this typo here.” Or “Hey, it’s winter but they’re at the beach?” (For example. Because. Um, hopefully I’m paying attention and won’t do that.) (Also, if anyone is up to beta/editing for meeeeeee.......)

I’ll post the rest of next part of Warm’s outline in a few days. (Weeks, lol.)

Arc 2: Between (11 mini arcs/stories) Arc 3: ------ (HEAVILY REDACTED FOR SPOILERSSS) [Like, you will never see a screenshot of this arc.] Arc 4: Cool (Leo and Donnie’s romances) Arc 5: Gold (Weddingssssss) [Too obvious for screenshots. And short. The fucking shortest arc.] Arc 6: Next Generation (Tin) Arc 7: Next Mutation (Tin) Arc 8: The End (Saaaaaad; all the major characters’ deaths)

[ask-de-writer]

ONE WAY? (Part 2 of2)  a Bizarre Border fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the BIZARRE BORDER

ONE WAY?

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

4845 words

© 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Written 2008

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, Fiction, Art, Misic, Cosplay  or other things are actively encouraged!

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PART 1 is HERE

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Alarmed, I asked, “What's wrong? Isn't it healing?”

“Yes, Mr. Marks, it is.  It's just the fastest healing surgical wound that I've ever seen!”

Deputy Redd was giving me a sideways look, a bit of a smile playing about his features.  “You sure that you don't want to tell me a bit more, Josh?”

Sarcastically, I retorted, “He blasted me through the middle from behind with both barrels, just off to the left of the spine.  I was too pissed off to die, in spite of a hole the size of the Holland Tunnel through me back to front.  I hauled out my gun and shot him down.  Then I fixed up my carcass best I could and called in.  Faked the spleen injury to make it look good.  

“While you were outside the door here, after we talked, Al came back to haunt me but I ripped off his ghost's arm and slugged him upside the head with it.  Then I shoved both his head and arm up his ass and stomped him back to Hell, OK?”

To my surprise, the nurse said, “That makes better sense than your other story.  I was in the surgery team that put you back together. We took out six stray pellets along a path between your front and back wounds.  Your Aorta was under tension like after an aneurysm surgery, as if about an inch and a half had been taken out.  It and a lot of the rest of the mess that we found all looked like new healed tissue.  Now, you are almost ready for discharge after less than twenty four hours.”

Deputy Redd nodded, “Fits what I found out at your place and what I've seen here, too.  All except for that haunt bit.”

Deputy Colsun stuck his head in the door and announced, “Redd, I need you out here.  Both of the surviving Rankin brothers are out here, trying to get in.”

I closed my eyes and crawled out of the ol' carcass to look over my guests.  Neither one had so much as a pocket knife.  I opened my eyes and said, “Thanks, Deputy Colsun.  Go ahead and let them in. Deputy Redd, have your gun ready, just in case.”

The Rankin brothers entered, full of anger, but sensibly not doing anything.  I greeted them, “Will, Sandler.  How you doing?  Aside from that idiocy about trying to kill a man in the hospital, I mean.”

Sandler snapped, “You fuckin' murdered my brother!  Al was unarmed.”

“Oh, really? How do you figure that, Sandler?  I seem to recall a double barrel load of shot blasting through my abdomen.”

“Exactly!  Al had a double gun and both barrels were empty when you shot him!”

“Still self defense, Sandler.  He had four more cartridges in his shirt pocket and six in his right pants pocket.  I just didn't give him time to reload.  Fair didn't seem to be the order of the day, since he'd just shot me in the back at about two or three feet.”

Will snarled, “You lost all your rights when you got killed, damn you!”

I turned to the nurse, “You've been doing my vitals since I got here.  Am I dead?  Did I even code out?”

The nurse saw where that was going and grinned.  “You've been alive the whole time.  Too much so for my taste on occasion.  Never even coded once, which, with a wound like yours, is almost a miracle.”

“Sorry, Will.  Just didn't die, that's all.  Al wasn't as lucky. Besides, I had that protective restraint order out on him because of that vandalism I caught him at.  I know that it was served and so do you.  You signed the witness to delivery line, just under Al's signature.  Lawfully I was legal to kill him armed or no, just for being within a hundred fifty feet of my property line.”

I could feel relevant info trickling into my consciousness.  It tickled just a bit, going in.  I told them, “Of course you boys know all about how I was shot.  You were on top of my south hill, watching Al ambush me.  When it went sour, you two didn't hang about, did you?  Didn't call for help or the Sheriff, either.  

“Al's old truck is still at his place.  Will's is in the shop after that stupid wreck.  Not  even your fault, Will.  Sandler, you're famous for not letting anybody drive your rig and it left some beautiful tire tracks in that soft patch just shy of where you parked it.  Your right rear has a big slash in the tread caused by that mesquite branch that you ran over last week.  That tire track puts you there, Sandler.

“Will, you were in such a hurry to get out of there that you left the lens caps for your binoculars.  They have several nice fingerprints on them.  You are toast, too.  Put at the scene by evidence left there and already found by the cops.

“Since you boys were with Al when he tried to murder me, you are accomplices before, and during the fact of attempted murder.  Enjoy the State's hospitality for the next few years.”

Deputy Colsun simply put cuffs on the stunned pair.  As he led them away, Sandler yelled, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

A few hours later, I was released by a very puzzled doctor as fit to go home.   I was riding with Deputy Redd back out to my place. Softly, he asked me, “Josh, are you a witch-man?”

“Tell me what one is and I'll tell you.  Short answer, I don't know.  Weird stuff has been happening since Al shot me.  That, I agree.”

We pulled up to my gate and Deputy Redd was considerate enough to open it up with my keys and drive me on up to the house.  As we parted company on my porch, he asked softly, “You know some things that you got no way to know.  I saw that happen.  We have two files that are still open.  One is an unidentified woman from a couple years ago.  Body was found after scavengers got it.  We never found her skull and there are a couple of odd things connected to the case.

“The other is our county's only unsolved murder.  Poor sap was just a wetback.  We'd have sent him home if we caught him.  Thing is, somebody else got him first and lynched him.  Maybe  some places they'd just say hell with it, but it pisses us off to have a killer loose even if the only guy he's killed is a wetback.”

I pretended to think it over first but it wasn't even a close call. “Can't guarantee a thing, Deputy, but I'll be glad to look.  If you have a bit of physical evidence directly connected to either victim, it might help.  Might not, too.  This is all new to me, OK?”

“Can't ask for better.  I'll bring the things by tomorrow, Josh. See you then.”  He was halfway to his truck when Deputy Redd turned and asked, “Ripped off Al's arm and slugged him across the head with it?  Shoved his head up his ass and stomped him back to Hell? That was a true story, wasn't it?”

“Actually. Deputy, yes it was.  Didn't think that anyone would believe it is all.  Why?”

He grinned a big wide smirk and replied, as he got into his county truck, “Colsun overheard the tale.  When he took the Rankin brothers in, he told the whole station.  Everybody except the Rankin Brothers was laughing their heads off.”  He drove off in a cloud of desert dust.

I went around to my chicken run.  Al's rattlesnake was still there, curled up in a corner.  It buzzed nervously when it saw me.  This time I had a non-lethal answer for it.  I used my ectoplasmic hand to pick it up and carry it safely far from the chickens.  I found it a nice hole leading to a rat den and let it go.

I went back to the chicken run and used the same technique to gather the eggs and check feed and water.  All well, I went back to the house.  Where I found Al waiting for me.

He tried for another “ghostly wail” but I shoved an ectoplasmic fist down his throat.  Setting my eggs down in a bowl by the sink, I started to rinse them.  Next to Al, a large dog-like shape began to fade into existence.  A Hell-Hound.  

Al began to crow triumphantly, “Might mess with me, Marks, but there's no way that you can fuck with this monster!”

Mildly I replied, “For once in your whole existence, Al, you are right.”  I turned to the Hell-Hound and said, “It is my understanding that you can speak.  Is this so?”

A blacker than midnight head turned to gaze at me with eyes that, though also black, gave the impression of flames.  It spoke, revealing far more and larger fangs than any earthly hound, “That is true.  Why do you not flee or show terror?”

“I am a bit afraid, I'll admit freely.  The rest is obvious. There's no point to it.  Why run from what cannot be escaped?  As for terror, courage, or what we sometimes call guts, consists of facing fear and dealing with it.

“If I must, I'll go with you freely and with no resistance.  First, though, I'd like to do something to entertain us both.  Let me deal with Al and then let us do whatever is necessary.  Did you see what I did to him last time?”

The Hell-Hound grinned, displaying a canine-shaming degree of mouth armaments.  It gave a very canine bark as it said, “I did.  Many had laughter after the form allowed us.”

The ghostly Al purpled and tried to grow “Nightmare on Elm St.” type razor claws.  His first swipe with them was his last.  Dumb roundhouse swing.  I ducked under it, grabbed his ectoplasmic arm and heaved.  The arm and hand ripped off.  My return cut was a low line rising swing just fractionally following a poke at his eyes with my free hand.  Al's own Freddy Kruger kit carved right up through his prominent gut.

I followed my slash by a grab and scoop that spilled Al's ghostly intestines on the deck.  It looked like he could still feel what was happening to him because he doubled up in agony.  I pulled out his large intestine and cut it free at the inside of his anus and shoved the end of his gut down his own throat.  I tied his hands and feet together with the rest of his intestines.

“You are so full of your own shit, Al, that you might as well get it direct from the source,” I told him as I stomped him down through the floor.  It looked like it was going to be a really long fall.

I turned to the Hell-Hound and said, “Was that as much fun for you as it was for me?”

Thumping its tail, the Hell-Hound replied, “Very nearly, I expect. Shall we go?”

“Since I agreed to, yes.  Is there a particular hurry?”

“Not really.  It will only delay the inevitable, though.”

“If it helps, I agree about that, too.  What were you sent here to do, exactly?”

“I was sent to bring your soul to Judgment before the Three.”

“Don't I have to be dead for that to happen?”

Wagging his tail hesitantly, the Hell-Hound said, “That is so.  You must be dead or alive by an unlawful resurrection.”

“Got a question for you then.  Can you tell if I fit your rules or do you just grab and say, 'OOPS!' if you're wrong?”

Almost testily the Hell-Hound replied, “Of course I can tell.  I just need to smell and taste your blood to know.”

I held out my hand, saying, “I hope that you don't have to do me an injury to find out.  I'm fond of that hand.”

Incredulously, the creature asked, “You will trust me not to injure you?”

I shrugged, “Same as above.  I couldn't stop you if I tried, so there's no point in trying.  Besides, unlike Al, you have behaved with both honor and restraint, so far.”

“You are very different from the usual among the Damned.  I will not harm you.”  He sank the point of one of his canines into the back of my hand almost to bone and pulled it back.  As blood began to well up, he ran his tongue across my hand.  It left a trace of first degree burn redness but healed the hole without a trace.

The Hell-beast looked almost disappointed.  He pronounced, “You are not my prey.  To kill in self defense is lawful.  You used no sorcery to live through the mortal wound.  You simply refused to fully leave your body and found a way to repair the damage before the death of the body.  I must go back.”

I sat and put a hand on his back.  “I wish that you wouldn't. Think.  You were sent to get me.  Was there a time limit set?”

“No.  You want a Hell-Hound to stay with you?”

“Sure.  I like you.  You have been absolutely fair with me and that says a lot.  Since no time limit was set, I'd like you to accompany me to my proper place of Judgment when my time comes.  Be it Hell or Heaven, I said I'd go with you, and I will.  In the meantime, stay here with me.  You'll still do your duty but get a bit of a vacation, if you want it.”

The creature simply sat down next to me and said, “We might be together for a long time.  The things that you have learned can be used to keep you young, you know.”

I patted his back and replied, “I sorta figured that out.  So, you staying, then?”

“For so long as I am welcome, I shall be your friend, Josh Marks.”

“You need a name while you're here.  How do you like Hellfang?”

“That is a good name for me.  I never had a name before.”

“Say, Hellfang, if Al really is going to haunt me, we could have a lot of fun.  You must have some purely delightful ideas.”

Tail thumping on the floor, Hellfang said, “You are right.  I do.”

---The End---              

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the BIZARRE BORDER

[soberbobmonthly-blog]

Neurotypical Body Positivity

TW: Discussion of dysphoria, body hate, disabilities and medical stuff

Without trying to make claims as to the state of mind of the artists I mention, I must simply say that this is not necessarily about the artists themselves, so much as the people who rampantly espouse body positivity without giving clear thought as to what goals it tries to achieve beyond feeling good in the moment.

Through both Tumblr and Instagram, I have been exposed to great body positive artists, whom are often incredibly inclusive and thoughtful. An example is Francis Cannon with their depictions of trans folk, PoC, and disabilities, in beautiful and often realistic ways. Pimples on the butts, fat folds… they are not considered things to be edited out, but as parts of the art to accentuate the beauty.

However, through seeing these pieces and the ardent followers of them, who use these images at the very base value they have of making a person temporarily feel better as opposed to throwing down the systems that make unrealistic bodies the norm, I’ve encountered a hive mind that reacts badly the moment you say you don’t identify with these images.

One piece of work, by Francis Cannon, I’ll concentrate on as it accentuates my point as a whole, and is the piece I find the most problematic when it comes to the body positive movement. The ‘This is My Body” piece, depicting a lovely nude woman, with natural hair and normal body features in a graceful pose, comes adorned with the phrase “This is my body and I love it. Why are you afraid of loving your body too? All your body bits are worth love and care and attention!”

The depiction of the nude woman is not problematic at all. Cannon consistently depicts bodies that, although stylised, accentuate points many mainstream outlets seem to ignore, such as body hair, tummies, rolls, moles, and scars. In this, she begins to deconstruct the aspects of art that seek to ignore these very normal parts of humans, and choses to place them as the centre decorative pieces of the art, drawing attention to them.

The words next to it, however, are where my problem began to lie. Upon seeing this picture on instagram, the only thing I felt was this dread in my heart, that maybe I am not loving myself that much… WHY am I not loving myself that much? She clearly was, she was depicting other people doing so, and the people commenting all seemed to feel the same way. But no matter what I felt, that one piece of art has stuck with me in my mind, making me wonder why on earth I must constantly feel good about myself in such a way.

While I in no way choose to identify with the mainstream idea of constantly needing to fight my body in order to fit into the norm of being a clean skinned, straight toothed, tall, white, cis woman, I in no way am every entirely ok with my body just the way it is. And this is where the body positivity crowd begins to show their weakness; in rejecting the idea that those who have suffered bodily or mental trauma are allowed to manifest their issues in their own way.

“Why are you afraid of loving your body?”

Coming from the experience of having a disability that causes my body to kill itself upon consumption of certain foods or inhalation of spores (or fuck it, for no reason sometimes), in order to give something love, I must feel safe within it. I must feel as though I have acted gracefully towards it and it helped me back. And as much as I can bitch and moan about the issues I must suffer through, the final nail in the coffin of keeping me away from body positive art is to demand that I wholly and truely love something which has caused me so much grief and suffering. I will reach out to any medical claim that might fix my issues over all, no matter how much pain it may cause. I will physically change my body, exercise it, train it, cut it to pieces, just to feel as though I can do something to it that matters, that will fix it.

Why should someone whose lungs fill with fluid every day, drowning them, suddenly fall in love with every aspect of their bodies? Why should a trans guy feel ok with the mammory glands that provoke severe dysphoria and cause distress?

There are so many examples I could rattle on about, but I’ll try and keep these things within my own experiences. I have long since struggled with trauma done to my body due to disabling medical issues, physical violence in institutional settings, and the resulting drug abuse to mentally handle the trauma. I do think that the movement towards bodily love will prevent others from suffering some of the things I did, but there are many issues many people can not suddenly prevent. Scaring from an operation or accident, being born the wrong gender, abuses instigated against us by others… are we not allowed the bodily autonomy to be dissatisfied with the results of what was done to us?

“Why are you afraid of loving your body?”

Because I am afraid of my body. I’m afraid of its reaction anytime I eat. I’m afraid of every rash that it brings up that might get infected. I’m afraid of the moles that mutate into potential cancers… I can love my aesthetic, my “cute” little double chin and the armpit hairs that tumblr and other places keep telling me to love. But I am gaslighted by not only my own body, through half or psychosomatic reactions, but also by other people who either ignore my medical issues altogether, or who tell me they are a part of me. That its a part of me to want to kill myself. That its me that causes pain and trauma.

So to all those whom have sent me messages or feel as though I am unappreciative of “progressive” art that does, all in all, try and break down walls, remember that you’re not on the right side here. Rampant body positivity and love simply serves as an easy way to get people to feel better for a short period of time, like a feel good headline. It grabs your attention, while you leave all the small detail of what the art is actually about in the background, out of your focus. The rest of Cannon’s art does not make me feel the same way. It is very clearly there to break down the barriers that cause people to fall into the trap of hurt and hate. But when someone who has suffered trauma tells you “This isn’t something I can identify with”, you don’t get to tell them that they are wrong.