#the only way for me to be productive is to work myself to death!!

[mikeru-funzies]

would have rebloghed this if I could find it but

(rant in the tags)

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Begging you for more Caracalla fanfiction pretty please?? Literally no one writes for him ??

I’m so ashamed but can you write Caracalla and fem reader who starts her period, how he’d help her through any pain or discomfort? Also disgustingly good period sex to get rid of cramps if this isn’t too weird?

I just started at work and have no products with me so we die like men in Rome, free bleeding 🩸

Blessed if you do, blessed if you don’t 🙏🏼 ty xx

Bleeding free for love

Emperor Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : +18, smut, hurt/comfort, tiny emotional, kissing, body worship, blood play, period sex, family problems

Summary : When the sun was in the sky at midday, it was the aches and pains that afflicted the goddess of Rome, hot and cold baths hardly seemed to help and hardly any food was right. When her husband has a certain idea to take away her pain and they both could get closer to each other.

info : So finally dear i have finished it i wish you a lot of fun reading and hope you have survived your period well. I had a lot of fun writing this everytime again and wish you lots of fun ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blood had many uses for rituals, animal blood for eating, for painting, blood was something that gave life and could take life it was the most valuable thing known to man because without it you died.

One thing the soldiers in the battles knew as soon as they saw the blood of their opponents they had won, the midwives saw the blood of the mother as a life was born and a dead man would bleed as his head was cut off.

A thing that everyone knew, every child, every man and especially every woman who felt the blood on a day of the month followed by pain and upset.

A natural process that could lead to life according to certain doctors or midwives to whom one went to have herbs and tinctures mixed against the pain, but as death would haunt everyone, so would pain haunt every woman of Rome.

A pain that also commanded the empress in a moment of adversity, from the moment she woke up she had felt on the edge of Olympus.

She loved her husband and her brother-in-law but her smile wanted to smile less and less, everything seemed to interfere and nothing worked her mood was completely controlled by the gods a thing that only disturbed her even more.

At breakfast, her appetite didn't seem to be for anything except for a delicious sweet fruit or honey glazed nuts, but nothing else seemed to appeal to her either, ,,I'm sure it won't be anything bad" she had told Caracalla, who was already giving her a worried look, normally the three of them tasted their way through the whole breakfast and were not so reserved.

At midday in the palace garden she was only in the shade, the sun seemed far too strong, although even Geta and Caracalla were in the sun, ,,Just leave me" she had said more cheekily than necessary when they both wanted to pull her to the table for a game and she had retreated with her servant.

But above all, her stomach pains didn't stop, pains that she feared were something worse and she wanted to turn to a healer after the senate meeting...but the answer came to her with a knowing sigh.

She rose from her seat in the senate to help her brother-in-law's argument, knowing that Caracalla was not fully present in his current state when she felt the first drop and she cursed inwardly.

,,I commend myself, something has come up" she only hastily said to Geta and gave Caracalla a brief smile as she tried to get away from the gazing eyes as quickly as possible.

But while Geta tried to reassure the senate that all was well, it was Caracalla in particular who seemed to snap out of it and looked anxiously after his wife.

Gods must you make me bleed now? she asked the saints and at least the answer was only why her abdomen hurt and why her mood was so different, she had bled once more.

A bleeding that made her go straight to the bathhouse where she washed herself because of course it didn't stop at a drop, she sometimes felt as if she were an animal bleeding to death in its last moments.

It stung and pinched so much, no wine or food seemed to help and the water always seemed too cold, ,,Warm it up once more" she ordered her tone again harsher than she wanted and the servants informed the slaves.

The bath water warmed up again after a few minutes and she sighed as the pain disappeared, at least for a moment, as she tried to concentrate on the rose petals and the scent of avender that came through the flowers floating around her.

A scent that at least helped her with a headache did some good, at least the gods were a little merciful to her because the rest of the day she would be bleeding in her room.

Her feelings were as numerous as the gods and she probably didn't take pleasure in anything, just lying in bed perhaps listening to music to distract her from the pain.

Whatever it was she was going to do it was all better than being around people, she had kept the dinner with Caracalla and Geta as short as possible, ,,I will find a way to take away your pain that is my duty as your husband" her heart tried to cheer her up and gave her a quick kiss.

A kiss that actually made her smile for a moment, it seemed that no matter what situation or how much pain she was in Caracalla always found a way to make her smile, one of the things she appreciated so much about him.

He liked to fight with himself, the madness taking him over more and more from time to time but for her he always tried, ,,And I will accept this as your wife" she replied and gave him a kiss too as Geta only had a pleased look for the two of them, glad that his family didn't stop at madness and blood.

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms to rest, the day had been exhausting enough and she just wanted to try to sleep, a sleep that was not granted to her, but minutes turned into almost hours in which she turned from left to right and knew that as long as she continued to be stabbed in her abdomen, she would find no rest.

Until the moment she heard a knock on her door and smiled, ,,Are the gods not letting you sleep either?" she heard her husband ask and saw that Caracalla had a small tablet with some things on it.

Sitting up in her bed, she tapped the fur next to her, ,,The honourable ones seem to be stabbing me right now," she replied, but immediately saw her husband get a worried look on his face.

In his state, where he was probably at least a little more aware of his surroundings, it was always better than him having a full-blown seizure and hurting someone else.

Setting the tray down on the bed, he scrambled over to her and placed his hand on her stomach, surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so worried but at least it had a little ,,The warmth of love" he grinned as he saw her features relax and her hand rest on his.

Maybe it really was the bond between man and woman that could help them, that could ease their pain as she saw some sweet treats on the tray.

Treats they fed each other, the sweetness and warmth actually helping a little, ,,My caring emperor" she murmured to him before giving him a kiss.

A short kiss really, but one that made the blue-eyed man want more, his hand sliding from her belly to her side, letting her know he wanted her, ,,The healers said...a touch of body might help with your pain," he said as they parted, the smell of sweetness mingling slightly with the tang of metal.

She felt the slight shame burning on her cheeks, she knew it was supposed to help when they slept together it always seemed to make no difference, an agreement, a bond could do so much

,,But the blood" she already knew the skins and pillows needed to be cleaned even without the sex through her blood, but Caracalla just smirked, ,,Has an attractive effect on me" he just giggled before he kissed her again.

A kiss as they lay gently on the pillows, hands carelessly taking the clothes from each other's bodies, the room seemed too warm, too heated by their love that burned as his hand went to her breast.

The gods gave her the pain but also the sensitivity something that also struck her lover who looked at her almost proudly, ,,Never be ashamed of our union no blood will keep me from you" he assured her and began to kiss her neck.

The little bites and marks turned her on more than usual, her mind plagued by lust that surfaced between the pain whenever she thought of her husband, an emperor who continued to take care of her body.

His fingers skilfully massaged her breasts, teasing her nipples as he lightly pinched them and she shuddered as she groaned, ,,Mhhh gods you've made a pack with him" she giggled as she saw the amusement of Caracalla as he continued to take care of her body.

Every piece of her had to be loved by him, everything she needed he gave her, praised her, kissed her, bit her, licked her everything he just wanted to be with his wife.

His goddess who loved him so much it was the only right thing to do that he helped her through everything in their life together.

Blood was what he liked in the Coloseum arena, and her blood seemed to act like an aphrodisiac on him, making him lose himself in lust and slight madness.

He finally kissed her belly before running his hands along her thighs and pushing them slightly apart, ,,Your emperor will take away any pain...as sweet reddish as a cherry you are" he compared them and the couple both smiled at the sweet but apt comparison.

A comparison as his hand held hers as she saw him caress himself a little and yet she opened her legs, his hungry expression meeting her slightly pleading one.

The feeling as he was inside her not unfamiliar but pleasing the sounds of the couple mingling as he kissed her again the brief moment of time to geen hung between them.

But now their shared love seemed to diminish, with every thrust he made, every movement, every lustful sound that escaped them both, their love for each other only blossomed more.

His hands went from her hips to her body every now and then, giving it further attention, knowing that it made her feel good when the pain was taken over by the pleasure.

,,Don't stop" she only breathlessly brought out, wrapping her legs around his hips to feel him deeper after a few minutes.

The healers were right love could banish pain and how love could banish it, rarely had she felt him so intimately and arousing it was something a look at her husband told her they should both do more often.

Her hands shakily detached themselves from the fur and scratched along his torso, his grunts letting her know he was the one enjoying the pain, something she gave him more of.

His thrusts increasing whenever she pulled at his light-coloured hair, scratching along his skin, his back streaked with red.

The couple gave themselves to each other, savouring everything and the sounds that echoed off the stone walls as if they were looking at each other from afar.

She heard him stammer ,,I love you" almost sensing that he was close to his climax, a tingling sensation in her stomach that she could only answer with a nod as she pulled him even tighter against her.

The moments passed and the movements became more hurried and intense until the stifled cry was lost in the kiss as the couple shuddered and clung to each other as the climax came over them both.

A moment in which the pain and the blood didn't matter, his care didn't matter, they held each other and only separated after a short moment.

He lay down next to her with a slight grin and put his hand on hers, ,,The gods should honour us like this more often" and the couple had to laugh again when she turned to him and held his hand.

But no more pain plagued her as she gave him a kiss on the forehead and now knew that love could conquer even the pain of blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cottoncandiescupcakes , @somepallings , @k-yurieee , @qardasngan , @sweeteststing , @songbirdmunson , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @bel0ved-heretic

[chanranghaeys]

📝 here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // Will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Snake Bride

There were pudgy little yellow creatures everywhere, here. As common as squirrels, it seemed. They looked like squishy, somber, ditto-faced Pikachus...sorta? I made a note of it. Stopping to make a few sketches. Not that anyone here would ever get the reference, mind you. And they didn't have the iconic tail. More of a nubby little hamster tail?

I'd have to figure out a better description. For the bestiary. Not to mention a suitably cute name, assuming they weren't deadly, after all...

You never knew, with hidden realms like these.

Throughout my training, the other disciples and I had been beaten over the head with countless tales of "it looked cute/pretty/beautiful/holy/or otherwise harmless AND THEN TRIED TO KILL US. Do NOT make our mistakes! I will pull you from the jaws of death! Just to kill you myself!!" by our Shizun. The man could rant for hours.

He still couldn't let go that a glowing, flower patterned, butterfly tried to rip his throat out. And? Since he technically for them "first"? (As far as anyone can find.) He got to name then poor creatures.

Which is why, there exists a very beautiful species of highly deadly butterfly... called the "flying demon rat bastard spawn".

(God, I love Shizun so much. He is so, SO petty. Hilarious, vengeful, the man's the living manifestation of "target sighted". Man has beef with specific TREES for god sake. I wish I had HALF that kind of energy. Even if it DID get us banned from like... so many places.)

I tried to get a good look at the little guys mouth, seeing one yawn. Hmmm... the teeth suggest venom. Better not startle any of them... but NOT I'm gonna need to catch one to milk it. Great. They seem fast...

A knock out array? No. Need them to want to bite me, so I can get a venom sample...

Crouching, I mulled over the problem. Admiring the little creatures as the clambered up and down the strange flora of this realm. It was fascinating. Humbling, in a way. When, I considered that? No one else had DONE this before. I knew it for a fact. Every single reference to this hidden realm? Was from either the immortal who created it... or four hundred years later, the immortal who sacked the placed.

It was hard to get into, hard to find, didn't boast any supposed ten thousand year treasures or legendary beasts. Just? A humble pocket of life. Started and left to cultivate. Shift and change. Grow!

Who CARES what uses the creatures or plants have?! This place should be STUDIED! All these realms should be studied! They're amazing!!

I spot a moss I haven't collected yet and carefully take a sample. Noting it's location on the map I've started (which is a mess, I fear I definitely have no future there). Of course, as is so often the case? Finding one sample leads to another. Moss leads to "oh hey, a mushroom" to "is that bird or a leaf?" And so on and so on. I nearly forget to make camp.

(It was a bird. It just looked like leaves! Fascinating camouflage!)

Only noticing the light shifting qualities, drags me from my hyperfocus. A nasty (or, I guess, productive? For an immortal.) habit. I had lost days to it, before. Disappearing into the library or some work room, back on the peak, for time blurringly long periods of time. Inedia keeping me from hunger. Younger disciples bringing me tea.

There was a reason, after all, I never made Head Disciple. Even though I got along great with Shizun. I was about as responsible as a goldfish. Entirely too focused on my own studies, to be honest. But to be fair? Let's see YOU focus! When there is so much... I don't know, Xianxia bullshit?

(IS it Xianxia bullshit? Or is it Xuanhuan bullshit? Fuck. It's been a life time. I literally can not not remember. Let's see YOU remember the differences! After literal decades!!)

(God, I miss my books. And the internet. And TV. Honestly? I miss everything.)

Fuck! Side tracked! Again!!

Careful not to step on any of the marshmallow-y not-pikachus, I scramble to collect the last of my samples. Reach out with my Qi, to feel how the ebbs and flows around me shift. I should? Be able to sense any nearby predators. As well as posdibly find a nice qi rich spot to set up camp. Maybe meditate.

Just because I'm exploring hidden realms, doesn't mean I should grow lazy, after all! Whole point of cultivation it to ascend. God hood and all that. And, yeah, I'm still sceptical as fuck. But... count me curious. Why not try?

Oooh! That's a nice ca-! Hmmm?

Something... not-brushes against my senses. As though it should be there. I should sense something. An almost taste and nearly smell of... something? Someone? Kinda like the faintest hint of someone's cologne, lingering in the air, as you move through a crowd that isn't touching you. But... warmer. Like it's still on the skin. Not a lingering remnant from someone who passed through?

It's... weird. I can't sense anybody.

Maybe if I try harder? I pump more qi into my technique. More then is technically polite, honestly. But maybe they are farther out then I think they are? I hadn't exactly expected to be sharing space. This Realm isn't exactly BIG. Just a ring of mountains and the valleys between them. One big, lush valley. Many smaller ones.

Again, it's not a popular realm. Not to mention already looted. And not even particularly Qi rich. So meditating here would be a strange choice. But... maybe they want the relative isolation?

I still can't find them. Dispite knowing they are there. (That technique does not give false positives.) So I risk rudeness. Figure I can always apologize. Maybe they are deep in meditation or something? Pumping more qi, frankly appalling amounts, into the technique, I am damn near half blind as I walk. (For all that I can see better then anyone in this valley at the moment.)

The sensory input is cacophonous. Beautiful. Terrible. Like balancing atop a single hair thin thread. Suspended carefully, above a raging sea, made of wonderous light and churning pains. I use my foot steps to anchor me. Balanced and even. Yet... find nothing. Pull back.

Are they... hiding?

Why?

Up ahead it the qi rich cave (more an over hang, cave is generous) that I sensed. A good, defensible place to set up.

It's only as I'm setting up? That I notice the little Marsh-a-chus? (Is that a good name? I really do need to start thinking of a good name for them.) Have followed along. Crowd the trees and settle thick in various bushes. And... part of me? Wants to go "away, I made friends!" But...

The rest of me? Was drilled in horror story and horror story by my Shizun. And that's so mighty fine "unusual interest" behavior going on there. Might even go so far as to classify it as hunting behavior!

Mmmmhm! Don't like THAT! No sir! Time for some nice and cozy warding talismans! Shall we? The STRONG ones.

Under far too many beady little eyes, I slap down security talismans. Full three sixty. Against the ground, the stone, the mountain behind me. I am taking no chances. Just as I was taught.

Which... as I am settling in for the night? Dinner done and dishes drying. Sleeping mat, out and reading to go. Light and warmth talismans, positioned just where I need them? Turns out to be for the best.

Because there is something in the dark. Big. Predatory. And coming towards me.

It's not so large as to show above the trees. But that is small comfort. They are fairly large trees. And honestly? I know only too well, massive size does NOT indicate lethality. Sun turtles are mountainous after all, and THEY photosynthesize! The problem is? There wasn't supposed to be a predator that big in this realm.

Did someone fucking shove a spirit beast or monster in here!?

What? Out of sight out of mind?! No longer their problem, right!? Why kill it, when you can put it in a hidden real to LET IT GROW BIGGER! Destroy an ecosystem! MOTHER FUCK-!!!

The night is silent.

It should NOT be.

Gripping a sword I am only kinda decent at wielding, I pray to the gods, I don't have to use it. I am a spiritual cultivator! Not a martial one! This is BULLSHIT. I don't have anything on me for "unknow predatory mega-fauna" because there WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ANY! Oh, this is the LAST time I-!

Foot steps. Crushing through the underbrush.

Into the circle of light my talismans cast, fades a pale young master. Graceful and pale in the moonlight. Very... very pale in the moonlight, actually. No better in the light of my talismans. Near ghostly, in his white silks. Touches of pale gold and stark black. Curls of ink wash grey. Like a painting brought to life.

Just a touch too perfect. A touch too beautiful.

With a grace to his movements that... that is too smooth.

It's not until he all but stands in the light that I am certain. His hair. Too lovely and well kept, for it to be an accident or some sort of shaming. Those are NOT bangs. That is the entirety of it. Nothing held back, in a crown or subtle styling. No... no it is SHORT.

No Human Wears Their Hair SHORT Here.

Entering the light? His eyes reflect. Grey like blades. Like storms and death. No pretty silver things. No, it is far too deep a color. Far too dangerous. Slits, that contract with the light. Half hidden by a heavy expression, that I can not begin to interpret. I desperately try to identify the creature before. Feline? No. Lacks the savage edge. Too cool... serpentine. Snake!

"Like a panicked little mouse, honored cultivator. This one might begin to suspect you weren't happy to see me~" they...? He? Says; his voice a low, honeyed rasp. "But how can that be? When this humble servant has been hunting for so long?"

"Surely, my dear little mouse, has been anticipating this day~! Dreaming of the day when her lord would catch her?"

There is something... mean, in that tone. Vicious and victorious. The silent echo of a madman laugh, as he burns the world to ruin. Seizes and achieves all that he desires. Strangles all that he can not possess. Covetous and ugly. Dancing, dancing, dancing around the edges. Demonic, indeed.

Yet... I do not recognize this creature. This demon. He certainly recognizes me, as horrifying as that is. What past does he speak of? Hunting? What HUNTING?! I try to find something familiar, in this strange form. Unless, of course, he is simple insane? Not impossible... but...

"Ah~ my poor little mouse." The demon coos, mocking in his indulgence. His eyes still dance with laughter. Mad and unable to feast. "You don't recognize this poor servant, do you? How cruel! To be forgotten. A passing fancy, barely held, in my mouse's fickle heart."

He's laughing me. Knows I could not possibly recognize him, yet plans to punish me anyway. Somehow. Fuck! This seems genuine. But how? Why!? When would I have-!?

Then, he shifts.

Gone is the beautiful young man. In his place? Rising, rising, RISING? A behemoth of a bandy-wolf king snake. Black, white, with occasional bare traces of that pale gold on the under belly. Hundreds of thousands the times it ever should have been. But... but? There. A scar. Oh gods.

I recognize him now.

A snake got into the village I was born. Absurdly poisonous, unthinkably venomous, it should have been left alone. Gathered very, VERY carefully and taken far away from people. But... people panic. Get stupid. The adults didn't fucking listen. And over sixteen people died that didn't have too. I was sick at the sight of it. They captured the poor creature and were going to burn it alive.

For the crime of being afraid. Hungry. Getting attacked and then protecting itself.

I couldn't bear it. So... I stole it. Hid it in a cave, half way across the valley. Didn't my best to nurse the poor, injured, creature back to health. At least... I tried. The injuries were too severe. I was able to close the wounds. But sickness, blood loss...

Shit. That cave was incredibly qi rich. It's why I chose it! To make up for what I couldn't do! If he had already started cultivation and then... or just resented enough...

It was entirely possible to become a snake demon. Easily, even.

"Sss Sss Sss, ah, recognition~" the massive creature laughed "Why so fearful? Little mouse~ It's not you I want dead. Kindness for kindness, a debt for a debt. And aren't we be grown? Look how strong we've become!"

The booming, breathy cackle did not fit snake lungs. Silibant and painful. Hissing and near silent. It was more pressure in the air then anything. A madness long coming. As demons born of resentment energy tended to be. All burned villages and the screams of those who wronged them. Hatreds and obsessions made manifest.

I... I could barely breathe. Oh gods. Oh gods! What do I do? I.. I can't-!! Tears threatened to choke me. Fear, shaking my limbs and fogging my mind. W-what do I DO?! I'm scared. No. No, no, NO! Please! I'm SCARED!

"Ah~ so cute, so cute! My little mouse grew so lovely~"

Like the world sighing, as fluid and graceful as his steps, the snake became a man again. His grey tinted lips curled in a fang bearing smile. Hands up and braced against the barrier, his full weight leaning forward as he leered. He loomed. My talismans casting odd shadows across his face, giving the madness in his eyes a terrible glow.

"This husband truely did pick his trap well, didn't he? My sweet little mouse~" he purred, eyes unblinking, above a terrible smile. "My little wife has no where to run~! No where to hide! Her husband has trapped her quite cleverly, hasn't he~? Poor, poor, little mouse. Your husband is so mean!"

My heart felt like it was going to burst. Cold. T-trapped. Can't breathe! Oh gods. Is this a panic attack? I.. I think this is a panic attack! Can't think! Static. Legs, refusing to hold me. Sink. Crawling backwards. Away. G-got to get away! Trapped! TRAPPED!

I horror, I watch as he sinks his nails in to the barrier. Hands no longer resting, but digging into it. He-! He shouldn't be able to DO that! Oh gods! PLEASE gods! Tell me he's not strong enough to BREAK barrier talismans of this level! Please! PLEASE!!

"Ah~ acting this way, you make this husband want to bully you, little wife~♡ And ah, such big, fearful eyes~ Am I being mean? Is husband being cruel? Poor thing~"

CRACK.

In horror, I watch as his nail push through the barrier. Like driving stakes through stone. Cracks shooting from the holes, as he digs and digs. Hands closing around the shards he has created, ignoring the blood that spills from where it cuts into him. As the barrier itself whines and crackles in protect. Tryinging desperately to maintain its integrity. Slowly... cracking... failing...

"Let me kiss it better, hmm? No use in trying to run~"

"So be a good girl~♡ my little Mouse. Come to husband~♡"

[manincaffeine]

Hey, I hope everything’s well with everyone.

After two months of isolation, I realized something about myself, it wasn’t social media, it was my bad time-management skills. Somewhere along the way, I’ve been running from something, some memories, my intrusive thoughts. I kept myself so busy that I forgot I have a personal life to live. And since I had an entrance exam, it was actually good to take a break. But Tumblr became my go-to place for my thoughts.

There are moments when your heart suddenly feels so heavy, and you can’t even explain why. No loud thoughts, no new pain, just a quiet ache that wraps around your chest like a weight you can’t shake. And the worst part? You don’t have anyone to talk to. Not because you lack people around you, but because you’re tired of explaining your pain, tired of pretending you’re okay, tired of hearing “This too shall pass.” So you just sit there, quiet, with a lump in your throat, with tears you won’t let fall, with emotions buried so deep that even you don’t fully understand them anymore. I’m too exhausted to explain my soul again. But I will be fine soon.

Sometimes you run from everything in search of peace. I did too. But in the end, I discovered that peace lives within you, you just have to learn how to control your mind, stay positive, and devote yourself to God. It was only me, keeping myself so busy that I couldn’t think about anything else. Still, I had many breakdowns and sleepless nights, and slowly it started affecting my productivity. Then I realized: my mind is a death trap. I can be completely fine, on top of the world but one sentence can turn it all upside down. A single thought can send me spiraling into sadness and self-hatred. My mind treats wanting help as wanting attention. It’s an endless maze I can never escape. Every decision has a consequence.

But i’m still here. trying. starting over. working on myself. softly. quietly. i’ll post here again. not because i need to be seen. but because i want to feel something real. and maybe heal. little by little.

i’m not okay. but i will be. and for now, that’s enough.

[angie-long-legs]

hellaverse artwork!

hello! I am a hobby artist looking to raise some funds as I am once again in a tricky financial situation. here is a little explanation, but feel free to skip - includes discussion of pet illness/death, disability, and financial hardship.

vet bills and a reduction to my monthly benefits have left me without money until the 16th, as well as owing £90 to my partner just to be able to pay my rent. the pet in question unfortunately passed away this morning, so I am not in great shape emotionally, and the cut to my benefits is due to my partner getting a new job, which is wonderful but unfortunately means we are entitled to less. I am currently unable to work due to disabling mental health conditions, and although I am very keen to get a part-time job again, and without going into detail, a myriad of circumstances have made it impossible for me to make this a priority at this time. any money earned from art commissions would go towards paying back my girlfriend, buying food for myself, my partner, and our pets; paying for my therapy and the travel costs and upcoming bills.

to avoid this post becoming ridiculously long, my info, rules and prices are under the cut.

prices

$25 - half body sketch, no colour

$30 - full body sketch, no colour

$35 - half body line drawing, no colour

$40 - full body line drawing, no colour

$50 - half body line drawing with colour

$60 - full body line drawing with colour

$60 - a set of 5 roleplay icons fully lined and coloured with expressions entirely of your choosing (see: the three molly icons included in my examples)

these prices are regarding a drawing of one character, but I will do multiple characters in any of these specifications for an additional $5 without colour, or $10 with colour.

I can also take requests not within these specifications, and we can work out a price! especially if you would like to commission something under $25 - I would be more than happy to figure out a way to accommodate this.

rules and information

I draw primarily hellaverse characters (clearly angel is the one I have the most practice with!), but I would be happy to consider characters from other fandoms.

all ships are welcome as long as they don't involve kids or inc*st.

ocs are also welcome, but be prepared for me to ask for a lot of supporting information and references in order to do your character justice, as well as potentially taking a longer time to complete the project.

regarding nsfw content, I won't draw genitals or sex scenes. suggestive content (ie. the sketch of angel in bdsm gear included in my examples) is fine if you are over 18.

please allow me a few weeks to complete your commission, possibly longer for fully lined and coloured pieces. I work slowly! if you would like to see progress during this time, just give me a message, and I will be happy to show you where I'm at.

payment will be via paypal, and I ask for a $10 deposit upfront just to weed out any chancers. the rest of the payment will only be due once I have delivered your completed commission. if, for any reason, I am unable to complete your commission, your deposit will be refunded.

I will also require an email to send the finished pieces to.

I am within my rights to refuse any request for any reason.

I retain the copyright to the art you purchase. what this means is that you are buying is the digital product, which you may display with or without credit (though credit is always appreciated), but not the right to reproduce or distribute that product.

please feel free to dm me if you have any questions!

[taffywabbit]

"why not just make your own website?"

with the announcement of cohost's death and amidst all the other tumultuous shit currently going on with social media as a concept (i am AMAZED twitter has survived this long given the circumstances), one suggestion that i've been hearing a lot is "we should just go back to the good old days of personal websites. let's all just make neocities pages!!"

(this is gonna be a long one sorry)

and like. idk! it's certainly something i've considered, i think it would be a fun thing to have, but it also feels like the equivalent of "capitalism sucks so let's all just run off into the woods and live in a cabin outside of society" to me. like it would be nice, it would be fun, but it doesn't ultimately solve the actual problems that are present with the modern internet, it just evades them. more importantly in my case and many others, it does not really help people who rely on the modern internet and the connections they're able to make there for their income. sure i can make a website and host my art and blog posts there, but who's going to see it? i can't build a consistent audience and make a living off of random passersby who peek at my website once, say "huh, neat!" and MAYBE add it to an RSS feed or whatever if they really like it. there's minimal potential for meeting and impressing new people outside my existing circles if i don't ALSO still have some manner of social media platform to promote the website on.

a lot of the "solutions" i see people proposing for the slow, painful decline of social media as a user experience keep coming back to old-fashioned, more isolated/insular systems. we miss forums, we miss personal webpages, we miss newsletters, etc etc. but like... those things were ideal in the "old web" because the old web was more about sharing hobbies and interests with whoever happened to pass by and check them out, and even just USING the internet was a niche hobby in and of itself for a lot of people. if you wanna be kinda cynical about it (and not unjustifiably so), web 2.0 is much more blatantly business-oriented, and its algorithms and carefully crafted UX's are primarily meant to funnel you towards viewing ads and spending money on products. looking at it that way, it sure does suck and Everything Was Better Before! but the modern web is ALSO more powerful than anything before it for just like. connecting people. spreading information and news. showing your art/music/writing/thoughts/etc to strangers who never knew you existed an hour ago. putting the tools to reach out to someone and tell them you think they're cool right there on the same website where their art is hosted, just a comment or a message away.

if you're able to avoid patterns of engagement-bait and obsessing over follower counts as a measure of self-worth (a big "if", i realize, but i view it like installing an adblocker - it's just kind of a basic prerequisite for modern internet safety and survival), a lot of these systems can genuinely be really positive and life-changing in ways that were simply not possible 20 years ago! almost all of my current closest friends are people I met through sharing our art on platforms like Twitter who were complete strangers at the time. all of the art clients that regularly pay my bills and support my work came from places like that too! the "social" part of "social media" is really what makes it ultimately worth keeping around in any form, and makes the pursuit of a Good social media platform still valuable.

there's a lot to love about the old web - its aesthetics, simplicity and freedom for personal expression - but every time someone says "just delete your socials and make a personal website" i am forced to confront the fact that i could never do what i currently do or be the person i am on the old web. if i was stuck hanging out in my own little space and only ever interacting with people who openly and loudly share my interests, i couldn't support myself with art full-time, i probably would never have met the kind and quiet strangers who are now my best friends and have made me who i am, and i'd just generally get a lot less insight into the vast range of experiences and perspectives that exist outside of my own. my life would be on a fundamentally different trajectory in countless ways without the advent of web 2.0.

and that's not to say "well twitter and facebook and tumblr all suck but you kinda still have to hand it to them" cuz you don't, obviously. they're corporations, and their job is to take the personalities and thoughts and art of the people who use their products and try to scrunch it all into something uninform and marketable that generates profit and pleases their shareholders. but like, you CAN still make a good thing out of them! these websites are tools just as much as geocities or myspace or IRC used to be. and the one thing these newer tools are pretty much all REALLY good at is discoverability. if you're just a hobbyist at the things you wanna share on the internet, then you likely don't have a lot of use for those tools, and perhaps you WOULD genuinely be happier just keeping a personal blog site or hanging out in private groupchats or sticking to specialized federated Mastodon instances or whatever. it just isn't feasible for me, and there are a LOT of people in my same situation. my entire industry of online freelance artists barely existed 20 years ago, and the web culture of that era is largely incompatible with my continued survival in the mid-2020s. i would LOVE to run off and live in the woods in concept, but all my survival skills are adapted for city living and i would just eat the wrong berry and die out there. i want- i NEED people to try and improve the spaces we're in, and support better forms of social media (like what cohost was trying and largely succeeding to do!) instead of just complaining that it all sucks, everything was better when we were kids, and digging ourselves little holes to hide in. much like all the other problems and frustrations and systemic issues of the world we live in, the modern web isn't going to go away if you just ignore it, so we may as well try to make it better for everyone.

anyways tl;dr i probably WILL make a neocities at some point. it could be fun, even if it doesn't help my career stability or whatever. but i do also need ALL THE SOCIAL PLATFORMS I USE FOR MY JOB TO STOP EXPLODING PRETTY PLEASE, and failing that, some actual half-decent alternatives that aren't going to fizzle out in a month would also be great thanks ✌

[your-unfriendlyghost]

dally studies

Was doing some studies for a comic, and I like how these turned out- pretty simple but kinda cool I think. Nothing fancy, but figured I’d post them anyhow

idk, Dally’s such an interesting character to me. I hated him the first time I read this book, but then the second time I nearly teared up at his inevitable death.

He’s an ass, and if I met him in real life I’d despise him- but then he’s got so many traits that I genuinely do admire and sorta envy. (Hell, I even kind of envy some of his bad traits due to my own social conditioning. I’m working on that.) He’s a product of circumstances and in some ways I see myself in him, but he also consistently chose to continue being a bad person. But he wasn’t all bad, either, which I guess is the point…and idk, I wish he could’ve seen a sunset, but then I don’t see them all the time either so who the hell am I to talk.

I dunno, I could talk about him and really ALL the characters in this book for hours and still only scratch the surface, so I’ll leave it at that for now.

still do think he deserves to be shoved a few times though

[poledancingghostson]

To put it into perspective, the same number of people texted me asking if I was okay when William Finn died as they did when I was a single mile away from the evacuation zone of the worst fires in LA history.

I found out while I was at work. I work in service, and I managed to stay professional, to swallow my emotions, for a grand total of ten minutes before a customer was slightly mean to me, and I immediately broke down crying. It’s embarrassing to explain to all the kind people who tried to comfort me that, actually, it wasn’t really the angry, unforgiving customer that had caused this reaction, but the death of a man in his seventies who I had never met.

The thing is, I can’t totally explain why this struck such a blow to my foundations. I knew he wasn’t young. I knew, to some extent, that his health was failing. And, once again, I didn’t know him. But I think he’s the reason I know myself.

As a lonely high school student with no real sense of my own identity, I found myself and the community I desperately needed in the very queer and very Jewish online fandom that formed around the 2016 Lincoln Center revival of Falsettos. My connection to Judaism, my gender and sexual identities, they all trace back to what I learned from that community.

As a lost college student slipping into deeper and deeper depression, my joy revolved around an obsession with the New York theatre scene that had its roots firmly embedded in the deep dives I had taken into William Finn’s works and the history that surrounded them.

As an aimless college dropout, I remembered the musical theatre class I had taken with In Trousers’ own Alison Fraser, the lifetime of musical theatre that I had done with the person who had introduced me to Falsettos in the first place, the way it felt to perform, and especially the way it felt to perform a work of genius like Finn’s songs. I auditioned for musical theatre school with “Love Me For What I Am,” from the original 1979 version of In Trousers.

As a frustrated musical theatre student, whenever I felt my love for the artform slipping away, as it can when a passion becomes an obligation–when your favorite songs become graded assignments, and your excited analysis becomes an essay with a deadline–it was Finn’s work that reignited that fire.

No other body of work has embedded itself so deeply in my life and my soul as William Finn’s. None have felt so intertwined with my being, and with the trajectory of my life.

I have, over the years, met most of the 2016 Broadway cast, flown cross-country to see a production of A New Brain, and of course made everyone in my university class groan over and over again by bringing up Falsettos for the thousandth time (I swear it was just relevant a lot). I could tell a hundred stories of friendships and accomplishments and survival that only happened because of the inspiration brought by the songs and stories of William Finn. They are a part of me. Irreversibly so. What breaks my heart, what will never stop breaking my heart, is that I never got to tell him any of those stories. That I never got to thank him for altering my brain chemistry–for changing my life.

I hope he knew anyway. I hope today, and will always hope, that he knew how much his art meant to so many people. People who felt seen, maybe for the first time–-people who found community when they thought they had none–-people who found themselves and found their way–-because of his shows, his music, his characters. I hope he knew that his bravery and boldness, the stories he chose to spotlight, changed Broadway, and by extension the entire media landscape, forever. I don’t think he gets enough credit for that. But I hope he knew how true it was, and how true it remains.

The grief I feel today is bigger than it has any right to be. As I sit here writing this eulogy for someone who never knew I existed, trying to put into words everything these shows have meant to me over the years–-as Mr. Bungee rides around my TV screen on a Razor scooter, courtesy of the bootleg recording of the Encores! Production of A New Brain–-as I try to come up with a way to feel okay-–to create something that can somehow honor his tremendous legacy-–the one thing I keep coming back to is the most cliched conclusion possible. That the source of this grief is a wellspring of immense gratitude that I will never be able to fully express. But I’ll try my best. In whatever ways I can.

And I’ll start here. Sharing these stupid, complicated, unexplainable feelings with whoever is willing to read it. I’ll start here. With a deep, emphatic thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Finn. For getting me here. For making me who I am. Thank you.

[just-null]

YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.

I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.

Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.

[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]

Vampire!

I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out

Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!

The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.

Witch!

my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...

Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!

Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.

Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.

Idol!

i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...

[Idol]

Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

ON THE FLIP SIDE....

[Not an Idol]

An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.

[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.

Doctor!

THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.

Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.

COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.

Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!

Pirate!

my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.

Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.

Corpse Bride!

my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.

Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.

Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..

Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 

[frazzledrazzled]

Thing's I'd put in the Australian version of Ghosts if I was making it

If you haven't heard, an Australian version of the BBC's popular show Ghosts has been confirmed! So far, there is a finished UK version, and ongoing (I believe?) USA version, German and French versions in production, and now the upcoming Australian version. (Now I know there's a bit of information out there already about the setup of the show but I haven't been able to access that so I know nothing about it aside from it exists.) So, as an Australian, here's what I'd love to see in it:

An Aboriginal ghost from thousands of years ago as well as an Aboriginal ghost from the last 30ish years - remind people that Aboriginal Australians are the oldest ongoing culture in the world

The mansion to have not always been a family home. Maybe like a boarding school or something, with some ghosts who were students there (or maybe teachers, as actors playing students would age much more noticeably. Actually a headmaster could be a good Fanny/ Hetty counterpart)

If not that, then maybe it's on a big bit of farmland - very Australian. Could let the livings discover news ghosts throughout the show as they explore all the nooks and crannies of the vast place

A different take on the main pair of livings would be cool. Maybe best friends, or house mates, or a sapphic couple?

Remember that ghost pigeon from the UK version? I want ghosts of extinct animals. Give me a megafauna kangaroo ghost PLEASE

If it's set in Victoria, some gold miners! There were a lot of Chinese gold miners too, so a Chinese ghost could be a chance to remind the audience that Australia is a multicultural society, and has been for a few hundred years

If in Victoria, and if there are gold miner ghosts, them finding out about Sovereign Hill would be a delight. (I say this even as my best friend's family are higher-ups at Sov Hill) the ghosts pointing out historical inaccuracies would be funny

A ghost who says he was part of the Kelly Gang (Ned Kelly's crew) a la how Black Pete from Our Flag Means Death talks about working with Blackbeard. Our claimed Kelly Gang member really only met Ned Kelly once, or was in the gang for only a week before dying in an embarrassing, unrelated way - Humphrey Bone core

A Kiwi ghost that they all ignore and shut down. Maybe they all talk about him like he's a lameass and a prick and all, then the livings finally meet him (he's been banished to a far corner of the property) and he's a decorated, brave ANZAC soldier who's very kind of heart and wants nothing but peace with the other ghosts. But the ghosts all hate him for being Kiwi (uniting the variety of ghosts in the show with a common "enemy"). Not to make fun of ANZACs or our war history, but more to poke fun at the way we hate Kiwis

Obligatory arrow-through-the-neck ghost was a camp counsellor who was shot by a kid who was on school camp with his primary school. Everyone has horrific injuries from school camp stories, so it could be a recent ghost and the living woman saying like "yeah and I once got a fishing hook in my hand on camp" "I once burnt myself trying to cook damper" and the counsellor saying "yeah well i once got shot and killed on a school camp, so."

FOOTY. Even as a Norflag truther, a ghost of a North Melbourne player from the early 1900s (when they were doing well) watching how badly they're going now would be a bit of fun

A ghost who died in the Great Emu War. The ghost: "I was in a war once" The living: "Oh my god are you an ANZAC? I had no idea" The ghost: "... not quite."

We have a great history of taking the piss out of our politicians, and also just not caring about them at all, so a Julian (from the UK version) counterpart would be very well received

KYLIE MINOGUE CAMEO (she was mentioned and cameod in the UK version)

And obviously, some cheeky references to the other versions

But whatever the show ends up to be, I'm really looking forward to it!

[an-indecisive-nerd]

Introduction 2.0 (now with extra... something!)

I decided to make it a whole new post instead of editing the old one (yay new beginnings) partially because it's easier and partially so I could still have the old one so I remember what I said.

Anywhosies, let's get right into it shall we?

About Me!

Deadass forgot to introduce myself in my old intro, so let's do that this time.

My name is Madelyn, but most people on here call me Ain. I answer to either, so take your pick.

As my blog name suggests, I am a huge nerd. I've been writing since I was a youngster, and I assume/hope I'll be writing till the day I die. (When I say writing I do mean fantasizing about my characters and procrastinating doing any actual work.)

I mainly write fantasy or fantasy-esque stuff, usually with a splash of sci-fi and sometimes other stuff.

I have way too many ideas and 0 finished products, so without further ado, let's introduce the gang (wips) shall we?

What's Your Story

What's Your Story is the project I'm currently working on. It's a fantasy/sci-fi series that explores how people's stories are interconnected, how actions have consequences, and how everyone's lives weave together to create the history of the universe.

The first book primarily follows Melantha Tollemache, a sickly young girl who cheats death with the help of a mysterious entity, and now has to learn not only how to use these powers, but why she's been given them. The story watches her grow and her world expand as she tries to find her place in it. All while the threat of cosmic war looms...

Appearances Are Deceiving

Appearances Are Deceiving is a high fantasy/political intrigue adventure, here's the introduction to it:

Kairna and Taren are twin siblings, and the top students of the prestigious Hornfel Academy, the best school in the world. However, with a new and rather strange Director recently being put in charge, the school's reputation may well be on the line. Without the protection of the school, things will go south for the twins fast, but something about the new director seems... off. Whose side are they on?

We All Lie Amongst The Thorns

We All Lie Amongst The Thorns is a dark fairy tale retelling.

The story centres around Rosalie, a young woman who lives in the woods with her adopted mother. She knows she was abandoned by her parents, but her mother won't tell her why or who they are. She eventually decides to try and find out what happened for herself, leading her to be on her own for the first time, putting her at the mercy of the world her mother once protected her from.

Nearly Parallel Lives

Nearly Parallel Lives is a eclectic mix of genres blending together into a self indulgent fever dream.

Strange occurrences have been happening all over the world. Odd, seemingly unconnected events centred around people who have never met. But invisible threads are pulling these people together, as they struggle to figure out why they've been chosen for this unexpected adventure. Or were they chosen at all? Maybe it's all a coincidence. FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON- (shut up)

The Enchanted Forests

Fun little fantasy project inspired by Howl's Moving Castle and a weird dream I had.

The population is expanding, and the cities are expanding with it. They're beginning to encroach on the Enchanted Forests, sacred forests that previously humans never dared touch, and the forests protector, the sorceress Arcana is not having it. But when the media paints her as the villain and all the other sorcerers have long since gone into hiding, fighting against human expansion is becoming an increasingly daunting task, and at this rate the forests are going to be cut down despite her best efforts. Arcana needs allies, more sorcerers to join her cause. And with everyone else in hiding, it looks like she's just going to have to train them herself.

Survival is a Team Sport

Apocalytic sci-fi thing!

It started out as any normal day. Then the world ended. Okay not really, but if apocalypses exist, this is one. Survival Is A Team Sport follows high schooler Camryn Bird and his group of friends as they try to survive the chaos that has descended upon the world. Things like murderous bunny rabbits (Jasper and Zac, the only ones who watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, were terrified), fog that makes you forget your name, and the sky randomly falling are all things these kids have to contend with as they try to find their families if they're still alive, and find out what caused this apocalypse.

Like A Movie

This is a romantic tragedy, also this is the only story I've introduced that doesn't have any fantasy elements in it.

The truth is, Lucian would love to "find someone", as everyone tells him he's supposed to someday. These girls seem very nice, but none of them really interest him, no matter how much they seem to like him. Does that mean he's a bad person? He's not sure, but one night after a particularly awkward date, he wanders into his favourite bar and encounters someone he's never met before. Usually Lucian's not one for socializing, but his name is Caspian and he's got the brightest smile, the most infectious laugh, and no one's ever prepared Lucian for this.

Twisted Inspirations

Woo! This one's new and different. I have no idea what genre you'd call it, but oh well.

The thoughts of a strange and reclusive young woman are written down for all to see. Follow her through her journey as she desperately searches for inspiration and keep her company. Something about this story is odd though. Different versions seem to be happening at once. Which one is real?

This story is actively being posted on my sideblog @the-muse-of-chaos so if you're interested, check it out! It's pretty dark, so tw for mentions of sh and drug abuse and the like.

And I think that's all for now! I'm putting the tag list under here, sorry if you've already seen my old one, but this is just where I keep my tag list for convenience.

@pheonix358 @unforgettable-sensations @littleladymab @megamijadeheart @my-bright-legacy

@ominous-faechild @thecomfywriter @wyked-ao3 @anamelessfacelessnerd @differentnighttale

@mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives @leahnardo-da-veggie @paeliae-occasionally @tr4sh-p4nd4-404

@oliolioxenfreewrites @aalinaaaaaa @sm-writes-chaos @seastarblue @corinneglass

[chaifootsteps]

It frustrates me so much that Viv got the one in a billion opportunity to make her show a reality, and she chose to waste it on horrible jokes involving SA, calling a victim a loser and a whiny b****, ruining a character she's had since middle school by abandoning everything people liked about him, ignoring her female characters in favor of the men (again), and then having the gall to throw a tantrum when people just wanted to purchase merch of the characters they actually like instead of a rapist. It frustrates me because myself and so many other people will never get the opportunities that she's had. And not only did she throw her more talented writers and promoters off the ship the second she didn't need them anymore, she continues to spread horrible lies about them and downplaying the extent of their contributions. For me, the only parts of Hazbin I actually liked were the pilot (which we already know was largely carried by Dave and Ken), the comics, the Addict MV and the episodes of s1 mostly not written by Viv (eps 2, parts of 5 + 7). The rest? Rushed, poorly thought out, inconsistent, and at times genuinely upsetting content so bad I can't even recommend it to my friends who are into adult animation. I was rooting for this show to make it to series for years. Now, seeing the final product, I wish they had picked up someone else's pilot instead.

(Side note: it's such a breath of fresh air every time I watch a show that is better than Hazbin (which is a lot of shows) and see them actually take topics like SA seriously, give their characters good dialogue, and convey their message in a sophisticated way without rushing through it all. It reminds me of what this show could have been.)

People in the fandom are shocked every time Hazbin fails to win any awards. Personally? I'm shocked they even got nominated in the first place. There's really nothing particularly exceptional about the show, except for the fact it managed to garner a dedicated and talented fanbase, largely through the hard work and contributions of people other than Viv. Not getting into spoilers here, but I've seen where this show is headed, and it's in for a crash similar to that of Helluva season 2. It's only a matter of time.

- radio anon

Just think of how many beautiful stories could have took the world by storm, but instead they're languishing out there because their creators didn't have reasonably wealthy families and a rabid fanbase willing to cover up the death of a human being on their behalf.

[seraphicsage]

Lady Atredies

A/N That's right guys she's actually written a second chapter to a fic!! This has been beta read (again, since when do I do that??) so I hope you'll love it!! I'm really enjoying writing this and I would love for you guys to let me know what you like about it or if you just enjoy it!!

Chapter 2

My maids are waiting for me on the other side of the door and we walk together to my room. There is food waiting for me to my relief, and I sit myself down on the small desk in the corner of my room to eat. It isn’t long until Feyd is walking into my room but I find that I've nearly finished already. He stands firmly, with his arms held behind his back, waiting for something. I dismiss Becca and Nyla for the night and assure them that I will call for them if I need anything, letting them take my plate away with them. “Did he believe me?” I ask when they leave the room, turning so I can face him fully.  

“He seemed,” he pauses for a split moment, “satisfied. He will not trust you yet, you are still an Atreides and he won’t believe that you are severed from your family loyalties until he can see it himself. But he is allowing the union to move forward.”  

I nod in response, he clearly does not immediately believe I am lying if that is all he said to Feyd, so we have made a good start. Feyd still seems unsure despite it going well, all things considered at least. “What’s wrong?” I stand to walk closer to him, watching his face carefully.  

“Your family is dead,” he states. It seems an odd thing to say considering that was the first thing I was told when I was brought here, by him no less.  

“Yes,” I hesitate, “you told me that this morning Feyd. It’s beneficial, what’s upsetting you?” 

“It doesn’t bother you? I understand you had your difficulties with them, but most people still care for family, do they not?” The concept of a close family is something that has often confused Feyd in my years of knowing him. If there is anyone who understands the complicated feelings surrounding my family, it is him. Considering his history with his own family I’m surprised he has to ask, though I understand the question he is asking.  

“I am not upset by their deaths, only disappointed I could not see it myself. My own mother died years ago, as you know, she is the only one who I would have cared about. My father is pathetic and has always cared more for his son than I. And Jessica was most certainly not my family. You know this.” When Jessica gave birth to a boy rather than a girl, against what the Bene Gesserit had commanded, I knew that she had stolen my own purpose. During my own training in the Bene Gesserit ways, I had been told of what I had been expected to do, and of their disapproval of Jessica’s actions. She always thought she was better than me. 

“And of your brother? I recall he followed you around like a lost puppy as children. You never grew attached?”  

“He was fun to play with. I need him dead for our plans to work, and he remains to be a product of Jessica’s inflamed ego. I’m glad he’s dead.” I bring my hand up to hold his face as he takes in my words. He nods once and brings his hand against mine gently.  

“I must train now, will you be okay?” He asks, swiftly moving on from the previous subject.  

“I will rest now, I think, it has been a long day. Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“My training has increased in the lead up to my coming of age event, so it will not be for long, but I will ensure that I do.” I thank him and allow him to leave, getting myself ready for bed before climbing in and allowing myself to sleep.  

Over the following months, I establish a routine and grow close with Becca and Nyla, they quietly introduce me to some of the guards and I make sure to be polite and respectful. I believe that they trust me as I assure them that I would protect them if Feyd ever went to direct his anger towards them. I pay particular attention to the guards that stand outside of my room just in case someone tries to plot against me. I occasionally meet with the Baron for what seems like mundane conversations, but I’m aware of how closely all my actions are being watched in every interaction I have. He speaks to me of the upcoming arena fight, of the Atreides prisoners that will be killed. I ask if I will be allowed to watch it and he seems sickeningly pleased by the question. I suspect he has something more planned for the event, but I don’t risk prying. Feyd and I see each other daily, often at mealtimes when he’ll seat with me in my room and provide me with company. Sometimes we talk and other times we sit silently, but there is always a comfortable atmosphere when we’re together.  

On the day of the event I visit Feyd as he is prepared for the arena. The women and his harpies that surround him watch me as I walk in but quickly avert their eyes as I meet them. “I am to sit with your uncle for the event.” I start, standing in front of him and watching the paint being applied to him.  

“He claims to be looking forward to it.” His voice is filled with disgust at the idea of it, though I am intrigued on how it will play out. I hum in response. As the women finish painting him, a man steps forward with daggers on a cushion in his hands. I step to the side to allow Feyd to step forward.  

The man looks terrified to approach as he speaks, “Your new blades, for this very special day, na-baron Feyd-Rautha.” I watch with fascination as Feyd drags the tip of the blade down his tongue, watching the man intensely. He swiftly swipes the blade to his side, not drawing his eyes away for a moment, slicing the throat of the woman to his right, before turning away to stab the other woman who had been painting him. 

“A notch off balance,” he approaches the shaking man again, pointing the bloody blade at him, “in the tip.” He discards the blade onto the cushion again before turning his attention back to me, he looks as though he’s assessing me. “You should join him now, before my ‘performance’.”  

I nod, watching him just as carefully before stepping an inch closer to him, “Make a show of it but do not allow them any grace. I want them dead with no mercy. Don’t fail me.” He lets out a shallow breath before I turn to leave.  

I feel him grab my wrist, with very little force behind it, “I won’t.” He says firm, though I can hear the slight hitch in his throat. He lets go of my arm and I leave the room.  

My maids are waiting for me on the other side of the door and lead me to the arena, where I am to sit with the baron. As we’re walking through a corridor though, I can feel myself being watched from the darkness. I stop in my tracks and encourage Nyla and Becca to walk ahead of me, and though they’re clearly confused they do as I ask.  

A hooded figure approaches me, I recognise her as Lady Margot Fenring. “So, the rumours are true,” she mutters as she steps next to me and we begin a slow walk forward.  

“Why are you here Lady Fenring? I have things under control.” I mutter back, trying to ensure no one can hear our conversation.  

“Reverend Mother sent me of course. We had heard you were still alive; however did you manage that?” I can hear the condescension in her voice, I know she will be disappointed that I’m still here. I stop and face her.  

“The na-baron convinced the baron to spare me. He made sure they brought me here himself,” I lean in close to her, sneering, “Ask me how I managed that.” Her face is as still and calm as ever. “Why did she send you? If she knows I am alive then she knows the line will be secured. Unless the plans have changed?” I step back and begin my walk again.  

“Does he know of your training?”  

I hesitate, “No.” 

“She needs assurances. And personally, I needed to see this myself,” she answers my first question, moving on.  

“What assurances?” I choose to ignore her last comment.  

“She needs to know if we can control him. Your survival suggests that we can, but that is not enough. Do you know that we can control him?” Her voice rises slightly, emphasising the importance of it.  

“I can control him. He would not respond well to many others trying, but I have established a secure relationship with him, and he will follow me.”  

“How can you be sure of this? He is unpredictable and psychotic, you need proof. How far would he go?” 

“The na-baron is vulnerable. He craves praise and pain. He knows that I will provide that, so yes, I am sure that I can control him and he will go where I tell him to. I know what motivates him and I know how to get him to do what I want him to do, don’t insult my knowledge of my betrothed. I have had one purpose all these years and I would not risk failing Reverend Mother,” I pause, “You said assurances, what else does she need an assurance on?”  

“She needs to know the bloodline is secured.” 

“Now? The baron has us in separate rooms and is watching our every move. He-” 

“Then find a way around it. If you do not secure the bloodline tonight, then Reverend Mother will send me again and I will do it myself.” I hear the threat that it is. I still my face, ensuring she cannot figure out my reaction. 

“Understood. I will send a message to Reverend Mother to inform her when it is done. You will not be required to return. A daughter?” I know the answer but with the changes with my family I must ensure this doesn’t go against any plans; she nods in response.  

“You will have to complete the test yourself if you succeed.” 

“I understand.” 

Nyla and Becca have stopped up ahead and I can see that I will be stepping out to join the baron any moment. Before I step too far away from her, she speaks again, her voice raised, “You do know what he did to his mother, don’t you? How he killed her in cold blood?” I hear the mocking in her voice, like she thinks she’ll scare me.  

“Of course I do,” I stop my steps but don’t face her again, “I’m the one who told him to do it.” I walk away from her, stepping past my maids, out onto the balcony to join the Baron. I lift my hood, not dissimilar to the cloak that Lady Fenring was wearing, to shield me from the sun.  There is a chair placed next to the baron, placing me lower than him but with a perfect view of the arena. “My Lord Baron.” I greet him with a bow.  

“Lady Atreides.” He indicates towards the chair, and I take my seat. “This is your first time seeing him perform, is it not?”  

“It is. I am… intrigued,” I have heard many stories of his brutality in the arena but I’m certain none of them will compare to the real thing.  

“Does it not bother you that the soldiers are members of your own house?” He asks, sounding as though he wants to scare me.  

“On the contrary, my lord baron, all the more reason to look forward to it. The last ties to the Atreides House, severed.” I hear a loud voice calling Feyd’s name as a set of doors on the other side of the arena open to reveal him in his armour. Cheers erupt from the audience as the crowd chants his name.  

taglist: @avidreader73 @aoi-targaryen

[balkanradfem]

As you might have figured out, I don't like buying stuff. I despise the store, the supermarket, the mall, to hell with them. I will make whatever I need from stuff I have at home, or I will find it outside, or get it from someone who doesn't need it anymore, my last ditch effort will be the second hand market.

But, it also happens that I had a need to buy.. a specific thing. And I couldn't get it from the second hand market, and I didn't know anyone who had an extra one. This of course, caused me pain and anguish, because it meant I would have to walk into a store, grab a product that wasn't strictly necessary for human survival, and then pay for it, and walk out. Like a consumer.

And it's not like my life depended on it, I just, really wanted one, okay.

I needed a silicone spatula.

One thing I hate even more than buying things, is throwing food away, and sometimes,,, I could not get the last drop of the soup from the big soup pot, I couldn't wrangle out the last few drops of salsa sauce I canned, I couldn't get every last bit of pancake mix to drip outside the bowl. That is another torment which I tried to resolve by excessive spoon scraping, shoving my tongue inside jars, trying to dilute it with water and getting it out that way. But deep inside I knew there was a better way. That this could be dealt with in an easy, efficient, satisfying way with a single valuable object. A spatula.

I didn't do it impulsively; I had gotten some excellent news and I decided, as a celebration, that I would buy myself a spatula. It would be one thing I do out of my ordinary life, because it was an extraordinary day and I had just so much happiness and courage I could just manage to buy an object.

I have examined multiple stores to see what they were offering, and in the end found the cheapest, but the most beautiful looking spatula (it had a transparent handle with little bubbles inside, so fun!) and I grabbed it in awe, thinking how it will be the most beautiful object in the kitchen. But then. My environment-loving brain warned me that I'm about to buy an object made out of silicone. And I didn't know if silicone was environmentally friendly!

So I grabbed my phone, typed in 'environmental impact of silicone production' and read articles obsessively, standing in the store in the spatula isle. I found out it is better than plastic, but not ideal; it's not actively damaging the environment, it comes from natural materials, it's very resistant to heat and unlikely to damage anyone's health, it doesn't shed microplastic, but it's energy-consuming to produce it and it doesn't degrade or compost once it's made.

It wasn't a good environmental choice for me to buy the spatula. I was staring at it longingly, thinking of all of the food I could save with it. All the jars I could scrape clean, all soup that would be eaten. And I came to the conclusion that if this is the only spatula I ever buy, if I never throw it away, if I find someone to give it to at the moment of my death, who would also use it – then it doesn't matter as much that it's non compostable. It will be a lifetime object that I will cherish. And the rush and excitement I had built up, I couldn't give it up. So filled with existential guilt and shame for single handledly ruining the environment, I purchased my 2 euro spatula.

And it was glorious. Every single day I would be filled with happiness and satisfaction from this object, which would clean bowls and jars and pots from food so efficiently I actually had less work washing them later! I was getting more food, nothing was getting thrown away, my food-efficient brain was with me; this was an excellent idea. I am powerful, I am not wasting any food anymore, I can clean my pots and bowls with ease, all of the pancake mix is out, the joy could not be greater.

And just then – my new roommate moved in. And I love my roommate, and I noticed she didn't have any dishes or cutlery, so I told her with open heart, she could use mine as much as she likes, and I'd lend her pots and pans too if she needed them. Of course I would, she's a hard-working woman from Nepal who is so kind and works so much every day.

But this lovely, wonderful, awe-inspiring woman, decided to... she decided to cook her food exclusively using the spatula. We have so many wooden spoons meant for cooking and stirring, without even looking I can tell you we have 8. An excessive amount. They are all displayed in a big jar where I keep my spoons, wooden spoons and spatula. But the woman decided, no, I will use the spatula to cook every meal. Maybe it's because it's new and shiny? Maybe it's what she uses at home? I don't know.

And after cooking, she simply discards the spatula at the bottom of the sink.. and leaves it there.

And then I come to the kitchen, and look for spatula, and realize it's dirty, and I'm unwilling to do other people's dishes because that has never gone well in the past, so I just. Leave it there. And then make pancakes and weep. Because what have I done. I don't have the heart to tell this kind, warm, hardworking woman to not use my spatula, because she has enough trouble already in life, and she must like the spatula if she uses it! I can't tell her to wash it every time immediately because I know she has to rush for work and I also fail to do my dishes consistently and just wash them on Saturdays. I would look like a hypocrite. I can't tell her I'm a weirdo obsessed with scraping food from everything I cook in because I don't want to freak her out. And ultimately, does it really matter that much? It's just a spatula. It's just a spatula.

So I am writing to merely share my pain, caused by odd tendencies, enhanced by intense struggle with consumerism, and finding out in the end, it didn't even matter. My beloved spatula is currently in the sink, drenched and sullied from not even scraping food, but from stirring it instead. I was so happy to use it for a little bit. May she rest in peace.