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stillness-in-green · 4 years ago

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Spinaraki Week, Day 3: Emptiness | Harmony

Hope it’s closer, hope it’s somewhere When it’s over, hope we don’t care I’ll be there, too, there when it comes true So take me down with you

A fan soundtrack — with accompanying fanfic shorts, if desired — for Shigaraki and Spinner, from Gigantomachia, to Jaku, and beyond.

(google drive | youtube playlist)

Below the cut, the fanfic shorts and links to the lyrics.

forever or never — cinema bizarre // take me under — man with a mission // so cold — breaking benjamin // silver lining — hurts // all i need is love — sakai mikio // stay alive — may’n // fake wings ~ bitter sweet ver. — kajiura yuki // roads untraveled — linkin park // all of my days — alexi murdoch // shØut — sawano hiroyuki

�� ———–

Track 1 | Forever or Never

They were two weeks into fighting Machia and Spinner right in the middle of another series of complaints about what kind of food Shigaraki was eating—as if he could even make time for anything more complicated than supplements and protein drinks when getting enough sleep was way harder to manage—when Shigaraki made up his mind, leaned forward, and kissed him.

“S’nice that you’re worried about me,” he said to Spinner’s gawping. “But if you’ve got something to say, you should come out and say it.” He was floating on sleep deprivation, the world too many colors, too bright and too fuzzy, and Spinner sitting right in front of him, the most colorful splotch of green on the smudgy brown woods, pink eyes staring—they’d been staring a lot lately.

“Machia could break me in half tomorrow. Tonight, even.” He laughed raggedly. The knowledge felt like his family’s hands—too heavy, nausea-inducing, but still offering an endless freedom. “I don’t want your last words to me to be, ‘Shigaraki, you need more carbs.’”

“…Well, you do!” Spinner sputtered, but he set the latest round of pills and juice packs down roughly in front of Shigaraki and beat a hasty retreat. Shigaraki watched him flee; a lazy grin sat on his face with alien comfort.

Track 2 | Take Me Under

Somehow, even though he looked like he was about to pass out mid-stride, Shigaraki was still pulling away from him. Everything he touched dissolved into flecks of ash, while the zealots on the bad end of Spinner’s blades remained doggedly fleshy, snarling and wrathful, all shouting voices and grasping, tearing hands and maybe Shigaraki had nightmares like this, maybe he was used to them and that was why he cut through it all so easy.

Spinner dragged his arm through another vicious slice, dragged his legs through another step, focusing on Shigaraki’s narrow shoulders. Don’t go without me, he willed. Bring me with you! I wanna see it too!

Track 3 | So Cold

“Not gonna talk about Stain-sama anymore?” Shigaraki asked, an edge of challenge leaking into his voice. Spinner had been weird since Deika, hanging on Shigaraki’s words with a hushed air of attentiveness that made Shigaraki too aware of the sound of his own voice when he’d hardly ever worried about that kind of thing before, and definitely not among allies.

Spinner flushed, the suffusion of red across his scales suggesting he had a bit of chameleon in there somewhere, but not a very cooperative bit. He rubbed his neck, looking away at the common room the League had requisitioned for their private meetings.

“….Maybe now and then?” he hedged. “I mean, he was the reason I got out. I’m grateful to him for that. But it's like I said back at the shack. I joined the League to find a purpose. It wasn’t—it wasn’t ever about Stain himself, exactly.”

“You find something better?” Shigaraki tipped his head on one side. There was a vague itch in his chest, a wiggling little need to hear about this new purpose—it was a leader thing, probably; he got Mr. Compress his sushi, and Toga was never shy about what she wanted, and now here was Spinner ready to spill his big goal. Like getting a 100% complete, taking stock of what it was going to take for his allies to get what they wanted.

Spinner looked back up, expression weird—eyes a little wide, vulnerable, like he’d just been hit or he was bracing for it, but the set of his mouth around his beak firm. He looked at Shigaraki like he was trying to stare a hole through him, but he nodded.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” Shigaraki pressed.

“It’s… You don’t need to worry about what it is.” Cagey asshole. “We just gotta keep going.”

Shigaraki drew his nails down his neck almost idly, a simmer of dissatisfaction in his skin, holding Spinner’s gaze long enough for him to go through both awkward shifting and a stubborn bounce back. His eyes were clear—too clear, Shigaraki thought, and it hit him.

The horizon.

He folded forward, struck to laughter, though the annoying feeling in his chest worsens. Spinner had showed up all enamored with Stain’s ideas about a purge this, a cleansing that. Or course he could see the appeal of emptiness.

“Who’d have thought you were fucked up enough to want that?” he murmured, snorting when Spinner stiffened in offense. “Okay. We’ll keep going, then.”

Track 4 | Silver Lining

Shigaraki after the first stage of the surgery looked pale—even more so than usual—and drained in ways even Gigantomachia hadn’t left him. He didn’t want to talk about how it went. He pressed an unselfconscious kiss to the corner of Spinner’s mouth and leaned against him, listening and nodding to Spinner’s faltering report on how things are going with the Front, chipping in now and again with an opinion or an order. To Spinner’s immense relief, he even managed a few sarcastic comments.

When Ujiko came for him, Spinner almost couldn’t breathe, didn’t even really try until the black gunk welled up in his throat to send him back to the villa. He wiped his mouth after coughing it all up and straightened.

There was work to do.

Track 5 | All I Need Is Love

Endeavor hit him with another blast of fire and the meaninglessness of it all pulled laughter out of Shigaraki like broken teeth. He let himself fall back from the force of it, landed on feet that seemed to know what to do with only minimal guidance from him.

His body hurt—hurt in ways he’d really thought he was past feeling, but then, fire had always been a particular brand of all-over pain—and the feeling in his chest was worse. The awareness floated at the back of his mind, a list of cold facts pinned up in his brain under a spotlight, cognition in the style of lepidopterology.

Heroes had found the lab.

The Doc had kept that lab hidden for longer than Shigaraki’d been alive. The heroes had to have gotten new intel somehow.

All the possible sources for new intel were holed up in the mountain villa.

Flying heroes were rare, but not so rare that there wouldn’t be more fighting him here (Majestic alone would be doing a better job playing keep-away with Eraser Head) if they weren’t occupied elsewhere.

The conclusion sat at the bottom of the list: Machia was on his way, but Shigaraki wouldn’t know who he’d lost until the moment the big gorilla got here.

Still, there was just the barest trace of comfort there—Machia was on the way, and either the others had made it or they hadn’t, and soon he’d find out whether Spinner meant it or not, about wanting to see this horizon.

Track 6 | Stay Alive

Earlier than expected, Toga had said. Spinner clung onto Gigantomachia for all he was worth, eyes on the horizon as the chaos of the battle at the villa finally receded behind them. His heart pounded so hard it hurt, throbbing with the memory of Shigaraki at the bottom of that crater in Deika, his tangled hair and bare shoulders all but glowing, pearl white, in the shafts of pale sunlight filtering back down through the scattering debris. Shigaraki tucked up against him in the cheap bed Ujiko kept in the lab, tracing his fingers along Spinner’s scales with unthinking abstraction, not afraid, not disgusted, not even paying all that much attention.

Spinner had been helpless then and he was no better now, terror thick in his throat as he watched the horizon for anything—the hospital, a telltale cloud of dust, a sign, just—just anything to give him a bit of hope.

Track 7 | Fake Wings ~ bitter sweet ver.

Shigaraki hadn’t regained consciousness yet. His burns had healed, but the deep, dry fissures in his skin wee slower to close. They corkscrewed down his arms and speared out viciously over his chest, cicada shell cracks, and who knew what had been trying to pull itself out of that body when Spinner and the others had finally made it to him?

Two crevices ran up either side of his spine in eerie symmetry, each branching once before continuing up, angling along the inside edges of his shoulder-blades. Spinner tried not to look at them more than he had to—every time he did, he’d get horrible mental images of wings shuddering their way free, sticky and wet with blood and enzymes.

He smiled. Spinner reminded himself of that every time he sat down to reapply hydrocortisone and calamine. When he saw us on Machia, he looked at us and he smiled.

It had looked pretty ghoulish, but a lot of Shigaraki’s smiles did. More importantly, though, he’d looked at them with recognition. Whatever had been brewing in him to make him look like some kind of haggard, slough-skinned revenant, Spinner had watched it recede when Shigaraki’s red eyes fell on them, on him.

He dared to run one hand over Shigaraki’s hair, rinsed painstakingly clean by Spinner and Mr. Compress as soon as they’d gotten settled in the tiny, two-road hamlet Skeptic had directed them to. They were laying low for now, hoping to meet up with stragglers from the villa, Re-Destro and the rest, but Spinner couldn’t make himself think about it with any clarity. Not when Shigaraki was still out and they didn’t have Ujiko around to tell them what was wrong.

Wake up, Shigaraki. Please. Please.

Track 8 | Roads Untraveled

“Did you see it?”

“Shigaraki!” Spinner started violently when Shigaraki whispered the words. “You’re awake!”

“And you’re loud,” Shigaraki grumbled. Pain ran a latticework over his body; he wrestled one arm out from under the sheets someone had tucked him into and examined it. A freshly-healed scar spiraled up his arm, putting him vaguely in mind of narutomaki. Skimming the injury, his eyes caught on the hole in his palm and it struck him, foggily, that he didn’t actually know if Sensei had always had those or if they came with Air Cannon.

Sensei. He thought the name slowly, deliberately, letting the syllables prod at his own mind, seeing if there was any response. Nothing poked back, though he still felt strange, emptied out and scraped back into a new container, all mushed up from the transition. Weird. Nothing he couldn’t get used to, but still.

Spinner was still talking, he realized belatedly, and tuned back in in time to hear, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. It just got so crazy so fast, we—”

“Spinner,” he interrupted, because there was a ring of shame in Spinner’s voice and Shigaraki wasn’t in the mood for it. “What’d you think of it?”

“Of what?” Spinner asked. He’d changed clothes, out of his polka dot vest and dark cargo pants and into a plain cotton button-up that fit him too tight around the shoulders. Not one of his, and not his style, either, so probably a loaner, or stolen, which meant they were in another hideout.

Shigaraki briefly debated whether he was angry about that and immediately decided that anger was much too intense for how empty he was feeling at that moment. He answered Spinner instead.

“You know what.”

It took Spinner a second to put it together. He might have done better if Shigaraki had stopped staring at him for a minute, but Shigaraki didn’t much feel like doing that, either. Spinner’s awkwardness was comfortably familiar.

“It… It was amazing,” he answered finally. “Practically the whole city was gone.”

“Bigger than in Deika?” Shigaraki asked, more for confirmation than reassurance.

“Way bigger.”

“Papers have a death toll yet?”

“They’re still just talking about casualties—a few thousand, ‘expected to rise.’ But Skeptic says they’re way underreporting.”

That’s still too low. They must have figured us out, Shigaraki thought, even as Spinner frowned, somewhere between angry and distraught.

“Hawks got information out somehow,” he went on. “I’m sorry. We should have—”

“We didn’t. That’s all. We’ll just do it better next time.” Shigaraki tried to lever himself up. Immediately, Spinner leaned in next to him—not trying to browbeat him into resting, which was a nice change, but hooking an arm around his back and giving him a good sturdy vertical surface to brace against. Or maybe just rest against. Fuck, he was tired. I’m gonna kill the Doc; super-regeneration is supposed to work better than this.

“How’re you feeling?” Spinner asked anxiously. Spinner was—weirdly comfortable. Warm. Solid. Shigaraki lost whatever his response was going to be, letting himself go lax against Spinner’s side. “Shigaraki?”

“Feel like I’ve been cold since I got out of the tube,” he answered, too tired to bother with anything but the truth, to which Spinner immediately held him closer. Heh. Bonus. “How about you? Find anything to fill you up while I was away?”

“Not that I’ve got to show you. The whole villa was—” Spinner paused, frustration giving way to suspicion. “Was that a dirty joke?”

Shigaraki snickered and leaned back, pulling Spinner down into the bed with him. Spinner fell with a muffled yelp. “Eh.”

“I don’t believe you,” Spinner said, but quietly, and didn’t follow it up. Slowly, his hands found their way up to Shigaraki’s face, those sharp claws of his infinitely careful as he pushed back Shigaraki’s hair. “Gonna sleep some more?”

“Gonna make me?” It didn’t sound like such a bad idea, honestly. Spinner would have told him something by now if wherever they were wasn’t safe.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” Spinner muttered. “You got really ripped.”

The confused, not quite envious tone dissolved Shigaraki into dry cackling. Of all the shit to focus on.

“Guess I did.” He decided to let himself have the moment—no telling how long it’d last, after all—and relaxed with a sigh into the circle of Spinner’s arms.

Track 9 | All of My Days

Shigaraki slept in his arms.

There were a thousand other things to worry about, things Spinner had sworn he’d start thinking about as soon as Shigaraki woke up, but that boat had obviously sailed, seeing as Spinner’s brain had decided that now was the perfect time get stuck on things like, Thank god he’s still him, and, How did it wind up like this? not to mention a repeating chorus of, I’m so glad he’s alright, and a bunch of fragments like, I never thought I— and, Back then, I—

He exhaled, stirring Shigaraki’s hair. Splayed lazily on his chest, Shigaraki snored softly, undisturbed, drawn back from hazy-eyed detachment by that last burst of laughter, which had been cutting and mean and perfect—and, judging by how fast he’d dropped back off, had also tired him right back out. He’d gotten heavier, which Spinner already knew from muscling him around the house for the last two days, but like this, his weight just felt right. Reassuring.

Savior and liberator, those were the words Re-Destro used for Shigaraki, and Spinner had always rolled his eyes about it, because it was too much, flowery and over-exposed. But when he thought back on his life before, just a set of scales stretched thin over a hollow ache, just fitful anger with nowhere to turn but inward…

He sighed again and tightened his grip, just a little. There was a lot ahead of them still, bad news to break, temporary separations and permanent losses. But despite that, just in that moment, Spinner felt—okay. Like things would be all right. Like the moment he was in was enough. And it’d been such a long time since he’d felt that way that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty for it.

Shigaraki slept in his arms, and Spinner let himself breathe.

Track 10 | Shout

The little house they were in—a guest house, the impersonal decor of which had not survived half a week with Toga, Mr. Compress and Skeptic all under one roof—was steadily transforming into their new base of operations. Gigantomachia had been hollowing out a space below ground, dank and shabby compared to the repurposed flood cisterns beneath the villa, but it was slowly filling up with people—stragglers the old MLA smuggled in, because Hawks might have figured out who the Army’s heroes were, but even he was never going to get a full member list; the Army hadn’t even kept one. They’d been doing the hide-in-plain-sight operation for generations, and being back in a scenario where they could get raided again mostly just seemed to fire them up.

Shigaraki was back on his feet again like he’d never been off of them, scars—what was left of them—faded to thin white lines and mostly hidden behind his clothes. He was right back to black, too, courtesy of a fashion expedition Toga and a few local kids had run to the nearest town over.

The news was still going crazy; no matter where Spinner went in town, there was always a boxy little TV or an old radio on with people standing around paying keen attention to the complete meltdown happening across the country—the destruction of Jaku City, Shigaraki’s escape, the discovery and capture of Ujiko, Endeavor’s connection to Dabi (which Shigaraki had apparently figured out half a year ago, in the aftermath of that very first Vanguard Action Squad attack), Hawks’ disfigurement, quirk-erasing bullets, the resurgence of the Meta Liberation Army—a 24-news cycle wasn’t enough to cover everything, and while “vindictive glee” wasn’t quite what Spinner had had in mind back when worried about keeping morale up, well, he still wasn’t going to complain.

They had their feet under them now. Every day, plans were being redrawn, the math being refigured: subtract the element of surprise from the MLA’s operations, but add in the damage done to the Hero Billboard Chart’s precious top ten; take away the Noumu, but wait, actually, maybe don’t, because just how impregnable is Tartarus, exactly? Shigaraki was free, and if he wasn’t quite at 100%, well, Ujiko wasn’t going to be around to finish the job for a while, so there was nothing for it but to move forward, and the way forward stretched before them unobstructed.

Shigaraki still planned to tear it all down, stone from stone—if anything, his fight with the heroes in Jaku and finding out about Twice afterwards had left him even more determined. Somehow, no one seemed to mind. The ordeal had burned their leader clean and sharp, a light burning at the end of the universe, impossible to blot out.

Spinner had never felt more ready to take on the world.

#spinarakiweek2020 #shigaraki tomura #iguchi shuuichi #spinner bnha #fst #bnha fst #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha spoilers #my hero academia #my writing #ficcing

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radioactivepeasant · 5 years ago

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Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

(This is actually a repost of my first "Explain a Story Badly", since that one used to be connected to a Strange Magic Monday. It's an explanation of the first part of the epic poem Beowulf, strictly from memory when I hadn't read the full poem in a year or two. So. You, know. May not be 100% accurate.)

Warning: this very much contains spoilers for the first half of the story of Beowulf

So we have this Danish king, Hrothgar, in give or take 970-something a.d. or so? And he’s built this lovely new hall he calls Heorot. And to celebrate, he’s having big, loud parties in there several nights running.

Well not everyone in the neighborhood is thrilled about the new construction project. We’ve got this nasty piece of work over in the swamps named Grendel. Now, it could be that, grinch-like Grendel grows weary of the noise, noise, noise, noise. In which case, okay, that’s fair. Except his idea of making a noise complaint is to come in and start killing and eating sleeping warriors.

Grendel, no. That is not how we deal with our problems.

[[MORE]]

Well after this happens, Hrothgar and co bail out of Heorot, which is, you know, smarter than a lot of story types you’ll see. Like the mayor from Jaws.

And you don’t just have the neighbor sneak into your house at night and eat your soldiers without people hearing about it, so word spreads. And there’s this young guy named Beowulf, who’s a part of the Geats. (Germanic people group living in roundabouts Southern Sweden at the time). Now, Beowulf just....does things. He’s like the hometown hero and it is entirely possible that this guy once out-swam a sea monster for the sheer heck of it. (If I recall, and mind you it’s been a while since I read the poem, he was making some kind of formal boast at the time this particular anecdote came out so, you know, judge for yourself if he made that up).

So Beowulf hears about the Heorot Incident and his people are like “Hey, Hrothgar is a good guy. He helped out your dad, right, Beowulf? Wish we could help.”

And Beowulf essentially is like “hold my beer”.

So he and his gang sail over and set up camp in Heorot, making friends with Hrothgar and co, and generally making an ungodly racket to flush out the resident troll. So once all the civilians are like “I’m out, dude, hope you all live through the night”, they settle in, ready to throw down with an eldritch party-pooper. Beowulf, mind you, has decided to do this sans weapons (and in at least one version, sans clothes for some reason) because Grendel won’t be armed either and he’s going to make it a fair fight.

Our boy is apparently the Old English Goku.

Grendel shows up because of course he has to make his very obnoxious complaint about the noise, and eats one of Beowulf’s men. Who is not stated to have been awake for this so it was either super quick or he was super drunk. Considering how much mead was going around, either is possible. Then he decides Beowulf is next, except that guy is very much not sleeping.

He basically pops up like “Mblergh! It’s me!” and then tries to grapple the troll.

Evidently he had not been skipping arm day at the gym because he actually wins. Very literally disarms Grendel. Despite the fact that none of his soldiers’ swords could dent Grendel’s hide.

Once his arm’s off, Grendel does not stick around to fight, because it is not “merely a flesh-wound”, and he is losing a heck ton of blood. He goes off back to his ogre-swamp and dies in a cave. Because some human guy ripped his arm off with his bare hands. (Insult to injury if, like the above mention, he's a screaming naked man popping out of the shadows to rip your arm off).

So the next morning everyone is like “We only lost one guy! And we killed the monster!” and they hang Grendel’s arm up on the wall like the world’s tackiest wrestling trophy. Presumably they did something to preserve it or taxidermy it because the alternative is both gross and short-sighted. Also unsanitary, but what can you do.

End of the problem, right?

Apparently not.

So here’s the thing: Grendel was living with his mom. And she was pretty ticked off about Grendel coming home from a murder-outing minus one arm and coming down with a bad case of death. And she was especially displeased to learn that the humans were keeping her son’s arm on the wall. Which, I suppose, is fair. So she sneaks in on night on a little murder-outing of her own. She doesn’t find Beowulf in Heorot, because he’s in another house for the night, so she finds this one guy who was pretty close to Hrothgar and rips his arm off as revenge, and then books it back to the swamp. Don't ask me how she knew which guy to dismember, but apparently she knew some faces.

This does not sit well with the Danes and the Geats. Beowulf swims down to the bottom of the Local Murder-Swamp and finds the cave, where he promptly gets into a brawl with Grendel’s Mother. Only this time he brought weapons. Like his soldiers had already discovered, he quickly realizes that his sword is pretty much useless against Ma Grendel and her Very Tough Hide.

Conveniently, she has a sword hanging on the wall for No Particular Reason.

Even more conveniently, this particular sword is the only thing that can kill her, which begs the question of why she was using it as home decor. Beowulf promptly makes use of it and that puts an end to Ma Grendel’s very brief reign of terror. (Well actually, all the bodies in the cave suggest the reign of terror might’ve been a wee bit longer than originally suspected).

Then Beowulf finds Grendel’s body, but he’s not about to trust that the dude is actually dead (which is probably smart) and goes ahead and beheads him with the Special Sword.

In the most convenient of plot twists, Grendel’s gross toxic blood melts the sword blade so he can’t ever use his awesome OP sword again. Sorry, Beowulf, no power-up for you.

He takes the hilt and the monster heads back to Hrothgar, who rewards him handsomely, and then goes on this long lecture about like, pride? and paying your people well or something? That’s basically all for Younger Beowulf’s adventures, because the next time we see him, there’s been a timeskip of about fifty years and he is having problems in his kingdom.

#folklore friday #radio explains folktales badly #writing prompts #fic prompts #beowulf #grendel #explaining fairytales badly #explaining epic poems badly #beowulf why in the dang heck would you fight a swamp troll sans clothes

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archmage--khadgar · 5 years ago

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Hia! I always feel happy when I see one of your posts pop up on here c: why do you like Khadgar?

*Stares into space* OH GOD THIS IS gonna probably be a long post. HERE WE GO.So uh. I always really like Karazhan and the lore around it, hardcore fell in love with Medivh and pretty much ANYTHING in game that was connected I ate it up. I got the urn, the keys, all the rings, all the rep, you name it. I tried SO HARD to get Atiesh from the old Naxx but that didn’t happen. (I AM STILL SAD ABOUT THAT.) So that was -kind of- the start. In order for the next part to make sense, need to sidestep and backtrack a wee bit for context.Not to be all sob story, but I gotta be honest, I spent most of my childhood alone (either outside or in my room), reading, playing out epic stories with my toys, exploring the outdoors, and most of my social interactions with people I was either being bullied by kids at school or my mother. And y’know, despite all the stories I read or watched on t.v it was a loooong while before there were characters that made me go….”Holy SHIT I know what that’s like!?” Like there was a difference, to me, between characters like Michelangelo and Beetlejuice that I REALLY WANTED to hang out with, and then a character that made me go….”I know exactly how that character feels. What happened to them, happened to me.”Digimon was the show that broke that mold for me when not only were there two characters who had DIVORCED PARENTS!??? Like me, there was a girl who had a REALLY BAD and unhealthy relationship with her mother. (But she was still powered by love, which was awesome.)This kinda started getting me into other stuff because the more characters I found that I could relate to, the easier it was to explain how I felt to strangers and it made friend finding a little bit easier. FAST FORWARDING A LITTLE BIT.

So I certainly have a character -type- that I relate to the most. And it’s chaotic bookwork with anxiety. Fun fact: I am always dubbed “the twilight sparkle” of friend groups IRL because I was always, ALWAYS the one who was solving friendship problems and I did that looong before the show. OOPH. THE BIG PROBLEM. Was that it was getting to the point where all the chaotic bookworms were either: Evil, female (and I love gals, but that’s not my gender identity ORZ), or like. largely hated by the fandom and were always mocked.Or some combination.SO LIKE. Hey, I get introduced to Medivh and his TOWER OF BOOKS and all that shit and it’s like “Fuck yeah sign me up bro, living alone? Shitty mom? I feel you.” But then, y’know. He was a wee bit possessed and not. Exactly the good guy SO THERE WAS THAT.And then. There was Khadgar.I hadn’t been able to find the last guardian book yet, though I had read about the lore highlights online so I was familiar and stuff.And then WoD came out. And Khadgar! Was doing stuff! Which got me excited because it was more of the Lore that I really liked, and during MoP, I was hardcore going…”THE LEGION IS COMING BAAAACK. I JUST KNOW IT. CAUSE WE DIDN’T KILL KJ. SKREE.” I got called crazy and stupid a few times BUT HEY. Jokes on you fuckers I was *right*.Anyways!That first quest chain into Tannan rolls in. And it’s just. Khadgar. Being Khadgar. “Well, then I guess we owe you one.” scene hit every…“Oh fucking god bless Khadgar for the sarcastic sass”Because I really enjoy sarcasm and it’s more obvious in voice chat or in-person but my sass rhythm and tone, especially if I’m ranting is veeery similar to Khadgar’s sass.And then the PUNS. Listen. *Listen*. I hear an opportunity for a pun and I have to take it. I have to. If I try to hold it in my face starts smiling like the Cheshire cat and I sometimes let out a high pitched “eeeeeee” until given permission. After that quest chain, I quickly noticed that no one had rolled a Khadgar blog. No one! And well, I was all about having a blog where I could be free to make jokes all the time. IIRC, my first post was…”The party has arrived~!” Or something like that. I honestly didn’t expect much to happen cause I didn’t have any friends or anything like that and all the wow blogs all pretty much had their followings already and I was uh…a WEE BIT ALONE. But I was like “well even if this blog doesn’t go off I’ll at least have an outlet where I can just be me where no one will harass me.”Cause gotta be honest, I’ve never been well-liked. There was never a place for bookworms who liked puns and had anxiety in the world I lived in. If I acted like myself I was hated, and in order to fit in, I had to be someone else, which was a ditzy stupid, lazy girl. I wasn’t allowed to be trans, (still not back in Maine), or smart, and….yeah. But hey! On tumblr, I can RP a male character that had my same sense of humor and sass and BE MYSELF and NOT BE A GIRL and all my IRL haters wouldn’t be able to stop me.And then uh, A THING HAPPENED. I no longer have the original blog because of reasons I’ll mention later, so I CAN’T REMEMBER who first started sending me asks but I know @kiyastrasza was one of them (she passed away suddenly a few months ago and I miss her SO MUCH.) But then like, I DON’T KNOW. I know I got a few initial asks because “fuck yeah finally a khadgar blog” and honestly, I thought my blog was rubbish because it was 80% me just being my sassy nerd self and 20% studying his word usage for more serious things and getting my hands on every scrap of Khadgar related lore.”So I fully expected to get called out on being canon divergent or a shitty Khadgar or SOMETHING. Or have people ONCE AGAIN be like….”This character archetype is annoying and stupid and we all fucking hate him and hate you for rping him.”But that didn’t happen. In fact the EXACT OPPOSITE HAPPENED.My ask box kept getting filled with puns to be approved, rhyming his name with stuff became a thing and now even BLIZZ says “Dadgar” like jfc what even.And then like. I don’t even know, a lot of it is a blur because it all happened so fast but the BIGGEST THING.Was that for the first time ever, being myself wasn’t met with bullying and hate and people telling me to shut up and go away or anything like that.People -loved- Khadgar in-game. And people -loved- finding a Khadgar blog that “when I read their posts I can hear Khadgar’s voice”. And better yet? KHADGAR WASN’T A VILLAIN! (Don’t get me wrong, I loooove AU’s but imagine being a kid and you can only ever connect to villains and then people hate you anyways IT DOESN’T FEEL TOO GREAT).And uh. Yeah. I don’t really know where to go with this. But yeah! It was the first time where I felt like nothing was wrong with who I was. That there was nothing wrong with being book smart and having a sense of humor and looking death in the face and just eye-rolling and going “Well aiight.”I mean hell yeah there’s been an epic shit ton of drama with people being jealous and making shit up and who the hell even knows what any of that was about anymore, and there’s still plenty of bullshit in my life keeping me otherwise miserable and I’m getting really frustrated that every goal I try to accomplish gets utterly destroyed in some way and I’m currently an emotional husk and I 100% HAVE NOT been myself lately as I’m a mix of grieving and severely hurt and physically ill and I’ve been broken pretty damn hard and when I pull myself back together it’s probably going to be like. 11th Doctor just turning into cranky 12 and not being pleasant BUT. The muse is still strong, the muse is honestly probably the strongest thing about me. Not because I think that I’m actually, really Khadgar and that’s ME you’re talking to in game and Azeroth is real, etc, etc. But it’s strong because that type of muse was already something that was effortless for me and part of my personality foundation. And before the blog it was withering away and crumbling and I had no self-love to keep it going anymore and then the blog happened, and even though I still have 0 self-love, I genuinely hate myself, the love from others healed it, and my love for the character, I think, is my subconscious finding a weird loophole to get around the self-hate because I CAN’T HATE KHADGAR, and fucking hell whenever I make a pun irl and someone is a shithead about it or calls me annoying over voice chat, my brain is like. “Yeah, but if Khadgar were real. He’d laugh.” And eventually, it’s like….”OKAY FINE. IT WAS FUNNY. THAT PERSON IS JUST A SHITHEAD.” I can’t remember where I was going with that. Uhhhhhh……SOMETHING SOMETHING.I absolutely hate myself and feel as if I’m undeserving of love because I’m a horrible, broken person that makes stupid mistakes and is only good for hurting others and being a bitchB U TI hate myself a little bit less when I RP a character, like Khadgar, that lines up with one of my personality foundations, and the general response to it is people loving it and telling them I make them happy. I’ve still had more hate directed at me in the past (and sadly the present) than I have love. But uh. It doesn’t take much love to get me all sappy and crying and happy. (Hate is a tossup, a lot of hate I can take but certain, specific things will strike me hard and fast).SO LIKE. Uh. I know the majority of my foundation at the moment is either destroyed or heavily damaged, cause I’ve also been heckin angry a lot lately and I don’t know how to deal with that at all since it’s something new so a lot of my foundation wasn’t protected against that, and I’ve certainly died emotionally a few times more this year than my normal rate of it taking a couple years or more to emotionally die and regenerate. BUT THE PART that’s still holding fast and bouncing off all the negative self-destructive shit is because of Khadgar, and all 1,297 of you (give or take) that’ve either stuck with this blog since the beginning and through a blog deletion and change or have come recently. That send in everything from ARCANE MEAT to puns, to AU ideas to random nice things SO UH. This is turning into an awkward unexpected thank you, to all of you. dashjkIt’s more than likely that I will live the rest of my life absolutely hating myself, and it’s possible that the rest of my foundations may never heal or be repaired. Even though I can easily attach some of them to characters like Khadgar for the most part, I just….eh. I dunno. No outlet and it’s not prompted ever and…it hurts still cause they’re broken. Which, eh, whatever, healing can’t be forced or half-assed, cause you can’t expect a broken leg to heal as fast as a papercut, all you can do is wait and let things heal or you’ll make it worse, but then obviously you can’t heal EVERYTHING otherwise no one would ever be disabled, but REGARDLESS.I may always hate myself. But I’ll always love Khadgar. And YOU guys love Khadgar. And you enjoy me rping Khadgar. So then I guess MAAAAYBE.It helps. With making it worth. Sticking around for a little bit longer. :T

#THIS GOT SO LONG I'M SO SORRY #it won't let me put it under a cut SKREEE #long post #lothirielswan

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amplifyingtrace · 6 years ago

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Tag muns you want to know better; repost - don’t reblog.

{I Basically? Draw myself on my Ask Ed so...?? *steals from there??*}

What inspired you to try/create that muse/s: I think I was caught up with the anime (Didn’t find the manga till after I created Leia’s page, I THINK could be wrong.) and as I mentioned before. Leia basically came from a dream I had, don’t remember too much anymore / sure I still forgot cool shit lol.

Just after I sat down and thought about it, sure I rambled to a friend of mine as well about the dream and the type of quirk I decided on. Or rather my muse did as it just instantly came to me.

Once I had everything fleshed out I decided to give it a go and try and hop into the bnha rpc community. I am so fucking glad I did! Everyone I’ve talked to so far has been super nice and supportive (Even calling Leia Canon ;w; ) I’ve made some really awesome friends here so far too! <3

What is inspiration for that muse/s: From a Dream :D I love my dreams to bits, especially if I can remember them.

But um..! what I remember from my dream was being nervous about an upcoming fight or battle? IDK and I bumped hands with Katsuki or had touched him, so later on it jumped too me being caught by villains, I think? And they demanded I use my quirk on them, which I didn’t and pretended sorta that I was a bit out of it. I mean I kinda was?? I was hurt and I feel like was either pinned on the ground by someone or stuck under some rubble, either way! XD

I remember concentrating and thinking something like, ‘please come find me’ / ‘I need help’ Then Katsuki and I think Izuku both showed up? (this was when I realized, oh the quirk has a radius / 1mile before their out of range of her kinda thing)

and the rest is history? I mean, I still get more inspiration as I go with headcanons n etc. But yeah :D

Thread/AU that made you really happy: I honestly have so many favourite threads ;w; I can’t choose just one.

I love each and every interaction with everyone’s muses~<33

Maybe like the plotted ones with my rp partner a wee bit more, but honestly just happy anyone wants to rp / plot with me ;w; Plotted ones usually last longer and 100% of the time I never want them to end, BUT if they do means we can plot another >:3 I do enjoy short ones too like crack shenanigans!

Something really special on your wishlist: I’m honestly not sure??? Hell, just talking to people IC and OOC makes me really fucking happy.

Hmmm... well, one where Leia opens up a bit more about her grandparents, more so her grandfather as he is a bit of a butt. >_>

Her proving to others, but mostly herself, that she is capable to become a pro here and is fucking amazing.

Umm.... sure more things that will come up / I’ll think of but YEAH LOVE MY BEAN ;w;

Something you are looking for in short future for your muse: Might have rambled that above, rofl. Clearly not reading these before I ramble and answer.

Just my bean being more self confident with her abilities ;w;

Share something related to your muse!: Ummm? Not sure what this one means?

Leia is super nice to everyone and is always mindful of other’s personal spaces. If she goes to sit beside someone she always leaves some space between them so they don’t feel uncomfortable. Plus always asking if it is okay to touch them, example is giving them a hug.

What do you think about character’s design/how do you came up with this: I adore Leia’s design! I can’t remember if I had a set look for her in my head before looking for a faceclaim. Or I saw the faceclaim and knew immediately it was her. Either way I love her <3

Designing her hero costume was quite fun too! I have edited it slightly as a more updated version and quite content with that one for the time being. Who knows, could end up editing it again lol.

What your muse taught you: To not give up even if I think I am useless and can’t do anything right. Don’t get me wrong she still has the same self doubts, just she handles them better than I do. I feel I am a mess *lays down* Stand up for yourself and or others. Like someone being bullied Leia will head in to defend the other, either verbally or physically / with her quirk. Me... not so much I honestly hate confrontation and it gives me super high anxiety as I feel like I fucked up or something? IDK anxiety is a fickle beast. Ummm?? not sure what else???

What is roleplay for you: Super fun! I guess it is a hobby like it is a hobby of mine to draw? I just have a lot of fun interacting with other people OOC and IC via IM’s and threads. Things that would never happen int he real word happen here and it is exciting! (That sounds kinda cheesy but??)

Just say something nice about other mun!: I love each and everyone of you here! I am so glad to have made some new amazing friends and just meeting such kind awesome people! I am trying to reach out more to say hi and ask how your day was to start off and then rambles ensue!! Just... everyone is lovely I love you all~<3

Tagged by: @unsuccesscr

Tagging: @floatiisms @watersplxsh uuuuh whoever else hasn’t??

#x;out of character;

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austinpanda · 4 years ago

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Dad Letter 050921

9 May, 2021

Dear Dad--

A bit of excitement this morning, Zach said a ruby-throated hummingbird flew up to our living room window and looked in, as if to say, “You haven’t put the feeders out yet, assholes, and I’m going to have to speak with your supervisor.” Zach later said he was tempted to pelt down the hallway and scream the news at me (the quarantining has left us in a very easily-thrilled state) but for the fact that I was in the bathroom doing my morning glory at the time. But I trust his sighting; it’s not like some other bird is going to fly up, so tiny, and hover at the window, and you’re going to mistake it for a ruby-throated hummingbird. If it’s wee, hovering, and ruby-throated, it’s a ruby-throated hummingbird. I didn’t think they’d be around this early because the mornings are still cold as hell here, and our heat is still kicking on. But we don’t seem to be going below freezing any longer, and I guess that means the hummers are back!

I grabbed my hummingbird feeders (all two of them), rinsed them off and filled them with nectar in about five minutes, and hung them on their hooks outside, and now I’m just waiting. It doesn’t seem to matter that I have a job, I’ve been fully vaccinated, and, in a way, I’m about to get my whole life back; hummingbirds are still cool as fuck. I still haven’t captured a closeup photo of a ruby-throated one yet; that’s my next wildlife photography goal.

So, yeah, not to bury the lede, but I got my second Covid vaccination on Tuesday. Woke up at 5:00, in the car by 5:30, parked at WalMart by 5:45, first in line for them to open the doors, first in line at the pharmacy check-in window. The same pretty black woman with long flowing hair tinted cobalt blue gave me my shot as gave me the first one. I thanked her for giving me my life back, and waited in a chair for a few minutes to make sure I didn’t experience sudden and irreversible death syndrome, then went home to enjoy the day off work. I ended up having a milder reaction to the second shot than I did to the first one. After the first Covid vaccination, it felt like many angry large guys had punched my arm. After the second shot, it felt like just a single large guy had punched my arm.

And that’s...it, then? That’s the whole of my experience with Covid-19? Still have to wear masks in public and at work. Perhaps the Chinese buffet will reopen soon!

Oh, because Zach also got his second vaccination on Friday, we felt it was time to have a social event again. A plan formed between us and plant scientist guy and his husband, and we agreed to meet inside their place for a lasagna that Zach would make. We hung out several times last year, but we always stayed out of their house because of quarantine, and just enjoyed the use of their nice patio and back deck. This time, though, for the first time, Zach and I were to come over and go inside their house for a meal without anyone wearing masks. (They’ve both been vaccinated for a little while now.) Zach prepared the lasagna, and because of his anxieties about screwing it up and making everyone hate him, he started making it that morning, and worked on it all day. He puts so much love, and so much thought, and so much effort into his culinary projects! The lasagna ended up being very good, and everybody ate more than was good for them. (Except me, I ate exactly the proper amount.)

We ended up being there for well over three hours, and for some reason, despite it being fun, it feels like an accomplishment, too. I suppose we were worried whether, after a year of quarantine, our ability to engage in persiflage and small talk would have atrophied to the point of withering away completely. It did not! And the reason we clicked with these fellows and took such delight in their company last year became the same reason why we clicked with them and took such delight in their company yesterday. They’re ridiculously fun to be around. I shall try not to sound too snotty here, but dangit, Zach and I are smart, and the hilarious sarcasms and lovely, twisted, bitter observations that we use to entertain ourselves, as we travel through life, are entertaining to the plant scientist guy and his husband, just as theirs are to us. I feel more at ease when I can use my whole vocabulary, and whenever I use a word with plant scientist guy (His name is Bryan.) that he doesn’t know, it bugs him, and he’ll look it up, and he’ll tell me that he did so. (In the life of an English major, there are few confections that taste as sweet.) The last time it happened was when I used the culinary term “mise en place” to describe Zach’s lasagna preparations.

Bryan and Andrew have a nice house, and they have some lovely cats, and they just got a bargain on a new TV that’s larger than the state of Rhode Island. I think Andrew said it was 75 inches across, or some such. I’d really like to see what Close Encounters looks like on a TV that big. They assured me I could play it if I brought it over. I think they said they got it for half price, and that’s good, because otherwise it would have cost more than a squadron of F-35s from Lockheed Martin.

And holy shit, almost forgot, they’re giving us their dining table. I’m not sure how it came up, but they mentioned they wanted to get rid of it, and I happen to want a nice dining table, and this one is much, much nicer than anything I could afford. (This would be their table that we ate the lasagna off of yesterday.) And there’s a reason why I want a nice dining table! Actually a few reasons. Firstly, they’re good for eating off of, and I don’t have one yet. Second, when I got hired by the casino, they said they were going to give me a $500 bonus for signing on. (It would have been $1,000 if I’d been hired full time, but for the moment, I’m doing this job part time.) Now. Let us get in the Way Back Machine and set course for Chicago, about 1997 or so. I had been living in Austin and working for Progressive for about a year at that point. Stacy and I decided to fly up to Chicago to visit our high school friend Karen. And while we visited Karen, she took us to the Chicago Art Institute. And while we were at the Chicago Art Institute, we ate at their McDonald’s. And when we ate at the McDonald’s, we sat on ...these chairs.

These chairs! They were shaped like a standard-issue chair, just like one you’d describe if an alien asked you what humans sit on. Four legs, square seat with a comfortable groove for your fat American ass, straight back with a few vertical slats, only these were made entirely of brushed aluminum. The whole thing was very sturdy, and kind of gorgeous to look at--as chairs go--and I loved how easy it was to move around because it weighed almost nothing, because it’s aluminum! I’ve always wanted some chairs like that. Well, you can get those shits on Amazon.com for $200 a pair. I’ve never spent the money on them because I want four of them, which would be $400, and technically, I don’t need them, or a table, to be able to eat food. But when I found out I was getting the $500 signup bonus at work, I thought I might use it to get four of those brushed aluminum dining chairs and a table. You can see my problem: If I only have $100 left over for the table, the table will be cheap, and shoddily constructed, and made from dried pasta, and it won’t last very long. Gotta spend at least $250 if you want a decent, grownup sized table.

But not any more, now Bryan of the Plant Sciences and Andrew of the Soil Sciences (they were obviously made to go together) are going to give us their dining table. It’s a big heavy wooden affair, and it’s circular, about 48” across, which is a good size, and the circle splits down the center and pulls out so you can add a leaf that makes the table EVEN BIGGER, enough for 6 people if needed. And Bryan is such a fucking Rasputin that he’s only going to give it to me on the condition that I NOT give him any money for it, just because that makes my bourgeois skin crawl. I had to plead, “Shit, let me at least give you the hundred for it!” Nope, he practically promised to poop on it and set it on fire before he’d accept money for it. Oh, and he wants to refinish the top so it looks newer. Oh, and he wants to volunteer his SUV to transport it to our house. Needless to say, in front of a table full of guys, I almost cried yesterday. I regret that they’re trying to eat healthy, because now I want to bring them a different thank you pie every day.

So, when the casino gives me the $500, I’ll order the chairs. (This is adulthood, isn’t it? Getting excited about furniture.) And whenever the table appears, I’ll have a great dining room setup. And we can keep the table round most of the time, and make it large and ovular for special occasions, like Thanksgiving, to make extra room for the food. Needless to say, this is a watershed moment in my personal journey.

In short, everything is going mostly okay! More details next week, all my love to you both!

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sassysweetstories · 7 years ago

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Empress Part 3

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, a wee bit of smut, etc.

Tagging: @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw @anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19

Your P.O.V

When I came back from Dimitri’s, I felt different, more relaxed; happy. There was some sort of giddiness bubbling up from inside of me. A feeling I wasn’t accustomed to. Not only was there an inner change but there was an outer. Clarke eyed me as we finished stacking supplies. “What’s got you so happy?” I look at her with a innocent expression, shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why?” She smirked, sitting on the operating table, her legs swinging from below. “Liar. Who do you have the hots for?” I scoff, rolling my eyes. That might be one of the weirdest ways of wording attraction towards another individual. “I do not have the ‘hots’ for anyone.” She takes a bottle from me, tauntingly. “Tell me.” Because of my height, I tower over her, grabbing the bottle before smiling back down at her.

“There is no one.” All of a sudden, a small voice called from behind us. “Excuse me, Miss.” Trevor, a boy about a year or two younger than me walked in, not making eye contact with either one of us, hides in the corner. I glance down at his bloody hand, rolling my eyes. Trevor had been in a few times throughout this week. “Go sit on the chair.” I say, and he practically runs over to it, almost falling over on the way. Clark nudges me with a smirk. “Looks like you’ve got a admirer.” I glare and internally groan. After patching him up, I grip his hand, not painfully tight but hard enough that there was pressure in that area. “I’m switching your job. We can’t have you in here if you’re gonna get hurt all the time. Come back tomorrow so we can re-bandage it.”

Trevor nods, shyly before shuffling down the conveyor belt and out of the drop-ship. I shake my head, washing my hands before I pulled out the liquor bottle and two shot glasses, motioning for Clarke to sit. She does, smiling. “Seems as though he’s been finding reasons to come here.” Clarke says as she drinks. I shake my head again, propping my legs up and onto the table. “I figured. That’s a horribly dark way of grabbing someone’s attention.” She smiles again. “(Y/n) and Trevor, sitting in a tree-” I take the rest of the liquor form her, laughing as she pouted. “Shut up, and I’ll give you the bottle.”

Almost immediately, she’s quiet. I pour her another shot, grinning. I was the only one who saw this playful side of her. She didn’t open up to anyone, I being the lucky few that saw her this way. All of a sudden, a large bumbling mass tore open the tarp and came in. Bellamy. I was about to roll my eyes at his presence but didn’t when I noticed the look of pure desperation on his face. “Have either of you seen Octavia?” I was about to say that I had but in all honesty, I hadn’t. “No.” Clarke muttered, glancing back at me curiously as I shook my head. He sighed, voice shakey, almost scared. I stand up, giving him a determined expression. “We’ll find her.”

He nodded, looking between the two of us with hope in his eyes. “Thank you.” Bellamy manages to spew out some sort of gratitude. He both grateful and oddly uncomfortable. We search the camp and found no traces of Octavia. I persuaded Clarke stay and watch over the camp. She was one of the few that I could trust. Jasper and Finn follow Bellamy and I into the forest. I rested my hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, making sure we are far enough away from the other two before saying. “We’ll find her. I’m gonna go this way. I’ll meet you all back here-” Blake opened his mouth to detest but I spoke first. “I’ll be fine. Not that you care but I know where I’m going.”

And with that, I stalked off towards the one person who would know what was happening. Dimitri. He must know something about this. I wonder if he knew or possibly did this? No, he wouldn’t do that. At least, I don’t think he would. I turn over my shoulder to make sure nobody is following me. All clear. However, as I got closer to Dimitri’s and I secret hide-out, my mind started to second guess everything. What if he was using me? What if it was all a lie? What if, the first time I open up to someone, they fuck me over? It wouldn’t be the first time.. It’s been a long time since I got to truly open up to anyone about anything. The thought of crawling back into my shell cared me.

I creep into the small cave, quieter than a mouse. Dimitri sits at his desk, his body hunched over in concentration. I lean against the wall, observing him for a minute. Though, at this angle of him, he didn’t look like a killer. He didn’t look like the grounders we continue to be petrified of. He looked like a small boy withholding more stress than he can bare. Dimitri didn’t sport his usual long wool, instead, he wore more simple attire. Similar to what I first saw him in. His hair had grown a little longer than before, the blonde toughs in a disarray. It was very sexy. A few seconds passed by before I realized I was staring too longer. I coughed, clearing my throat to grab his attention.

He grabs the nearest weapon towards him, pushing me against the wall. When Dimitri finally recognizes me, he puts the weapon away, his body relaxing. I could have sworn he flushed in embarrassment. I continue to lean against the cold wall, smirking up at him. “What are you working on?” Acknowledging the booklet that he was quite focused on prior to my entrance. The table was in a disarray, books and paper all over the table. He rushes over to it, putting his jacket on them to cover them up from my gaze before leaning against it, awkwardly. “Nothing- it’s not- nope- nothing at all-”

I smirk at his adorableness. All of a sudden, I remember why I came here in the first place and my smile left almost immediately. There were many things I liked about Dimitri. One of which, was the fact that he could read me so well. He noticed my drastic mood change, wrapping his hands around my face. “What is bothering you, princessa?” I can’t help but smile at the nickname before explaining warily. “A friend of mine, Octavia, is missing. I believe she was taken.” His eyes went wide in shock as I continued. “Tell me you hadn’t anything too do with this?” Dimitri shook his head, his golden blond hair tousling as he does. “No, princessa. I had nothing to do with this-” He paused before continuing. “There are other factions, clans. I different clan member must have taken you friend.”

I nod, understandingly. He wrapped his long calloused hands around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. When he lets go of me, Dimitri takes his hand in my face. “We will find your friend. I’ll see whom I can talk to, to help.” I place my hands over his, smiling. “Thank you, Dimitri.” I didn’t realize the closeness of our faces until now. He brought my face closer to his, our foreheads touching. As our lips were about a touch, when a voice shouted from outside the cave. “(Y/N)?” Finn. Oh shit. I pull away from Dimitri at lightning speed, pushing him behind me as I left the cave. Finn stood outside, eyeing me suspiciously. “You okay, (Y/n)?” I nodded, bringing back my demeanor. “I looked in that cave, nothing. Just a bunch of dirt. How ‘bout you? What’d you find?” He looks back at me and then the cave with unease.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Don’t trust me? Go on, then. I would love to see your face when you see that I’m not lying.” Immediately, he stops being warily, shrugging at my previous question. “Nothing so far. Let’s go find Bellamy and Jasper. They shouldn’t be far.” I nod, reluctant to leave Dimitri after what was about to happen. So, in that moment, I take a risk. I go back and finish what we both started.

Dimitri’s P.O.V

I lean against the cold rocks, sighing in relief as (Y/n) distracts her friend. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in and out. Apart of me was sadden that I couldn’t kiss her. Though I know I shouldn’t be, I was beginning to crush on her. I let out a defeated frustrated sigh as I listened to their conversation. I could have sworn I heard (Y/n)’s steps as she left my place; our place. “Dammit.” I mutter angrily. And then, in that moment, it was as if the wish in my head was granted. (Y/n) came swooping in from around the corner. Before I could ask her what she was doing back here, the risk she was taking, she grabbed the collar of my neck and slammed her moist lips into mine, needy.

Almost immediately, I kissed back with just as much passion, grabbing her waist to pull her closer into me. Our lips seemed to blend and mold together in perfect harmony. When she pulls away, I’m breathless and flustered with swollen lips. As was she, and before I could say anything, she seemed to vanished into the night, leaving me there in the cold cave alone. “Wow..” I caught myself grinning from ear to ear. Running my finger-tips against my lips, I press them together, my lips tasting like hers. After waiting for a little while, I head back to my village, a smile on my face. God, the things that woman did to me.

Your P.O.V

I follow Finn, a smile working its way up onto my face. Hiding it was become more and more difficult. “Are you okay? I could have sworn I saw you smile?” I scoff, hiding my feelings with a scowl. “Me? Smile? Finn, you have a better chance at finding a unicorn play checkers with a leprechaun while they eat four-leaf clovers than seeing me smile.” He laughs, shaking his head back and forth. Before I know it, we run directly into them. Bellamy eyes me up and down with suspicion before looking back at Finn. “Come on, we found a cave around the corner.” I nod respectfully to Jasper before walking into the cave after Bellamy.

He continued to look back at me, from my lips to my eyes. And, for some odd reason, I felt a sense of guilt wash over me. But why? I didn’t like Bellamy, nor did he like me? I liked Dimitri. Holy shit! I like Dimitri! I shake my head, trying to focus. As we turned the corner of the cave, we saw Octavia cowered with a pipe in the corner. Immediately, Bellamy ran and embraced his sister. Jasper pushed past us to hug her too. Before I could move or do anything, I was thrown to the ground. I yelped in surprise, bringing my hands up to protect my face. My attacker threw Jasper and Bellamy to the floor as well, chocking the Blake boy. I push myself up and kick him, Finn punches his face, knocking him out. I hover over Bellamy and Octavia, protecting them, weapons at the ready.

Octavia cries out. “He was protecting me! Don’t hurt him!” Bellamy turns back to his sister, gawking. But before he could protest, the only sound that entered the room was a cry of pain. And it came from Finn. The attacker stabbed his side, crouching in pain, however, before I could do anything though, Jasper hit the back of his head with such force, I have no doubt in my mind that he was knocked out. I grab Finn, lifting him up on my own. Jasper reaches to remove the blade that’s wedge in his side but Bellamy and I yell at him not to. We hurry back to the camp, heart in my throat. Though Finn was not on my good side right now, he was a good person. I couldn’t let him die. The second we get back to the camp, I yell. “Someone get Clarke! NOW!” This day couldn’t have gone worse.

(I hope you liked it!)

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years ago

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Tombow Recycled Colored Pencil Review

Look! I finally got some more colored pencils to try out! This time we're looking at the Tombow Recycled Colored Pencils. Tombow is probably best known for their water-based dual brush pens, which I have a few of, but these and their other line, the Irojiten colored pencils (which are a bit fancier and noticeably more expensive than these), are more intriguing to me. These pencils specifically are called "recycled" pencils because if you look closely at the pencils in person, each one has a couple of zigzag lines dotted along the barrel/wood casing. These are "finger joints" where partial pieces of wood have been joined together to make a piece the proper length for making colored pencils, whereas most normal colored pencils just use whole pieces of wood and, apparently, thus generate a lot of wood-waste. But what really caught my attention about the recycled colored pencils, and why I ended up getting them before getting the Irojitens even though the packaging and idea behind those are ridiculously attractive to me, is because the word on the internet is that the core of these pencils used the exact same formula as the Irojitens. This is important because the 24 set of Recycled Pencils goes for about $14 on Amazon, and anywhere from $13-$30 depending on where else you look. But any of the three sets of 30 Irojiten pencils can go anywhere from $25-$50 depending on where you look, and while there are only 24 Recycled pencil colors, there are 90 Irojiten colors (the full set going for about $80-$100, again depending on where you look), so you'll end up paying a lot more to get the full set of those. What that means then, if they are indeed the same core--I couldn't find confirmation on Tombow's website or the Amazon listing, so it could very well just be a very strong rumor--that these are a cheaper way to try out the formula for the Irojiten pencils to see if you even want to invest in them. Hoping this was one of the times the internet is right, that's what I did. I'll get my big complaints out of the way first: I wish there were more colors, the pencils are a bit of the harder side (but not to the point they're painful to work with), and the white and metallics fell a little short for me. But, even so, I think the pencils are pretty nice for their price point. So let's take a bit of a deep dive and I'll address those things as they come up. The first thing I noticed once I actually had the pencils in my hand is that they're designed similarly to the Caran D'ache Luminance and Faber Castell PITT Pastel pencils, both of which are considered high/artist quality pencils and their price points reflect that very strongly. (Translation: Those pencils are hecka expensive). Most of the pencil is the naked wood casing, but the very ends, about 1/4 of an inch, are dipped in what's supposed to be the color of the pencil. The pencils, as well as the hinged tin they come in, have a lot of either Japanese or Vietnamese printed on them. (I've heard multiple times that Tombow is a Japanese company but these pencils both on the packaging and on the pencils themselves say there were made in Vietnam, and as uncultured American swine my untrained eyes can't tell the difference between the two written languages) This makes figuring out which color you have a wee bit tricky, but the color names are printed inside the lid of the tin and each pencil is numbered and they're laid out in the correct order, so if you can remember which color is which number, you should be okay. This problem could also be eased by some washi tape either on the tin with the number or one the pencils with the names (or both), but I got used to the numbers/placement to figure out which ones I wanted pretty quickly. This would be a much bigger problem if this was a larger set, though. Speaking of which, about those colors... For a 24 set, I do feel like you get a pretty good range; There's a white, black, pink, peachy/light skin tone color, even a gray and two metallics: silver and gold. Comparing this color range to both the Prismacolor 24 set and the Crayola Artist/Blend & Shade 24 set, I do wish they'd swapped one of the yellowish colors for a light turquoise/blue-green color like the other two sets have, and if I'm really splitting hairs then swapping the metallics for another lighter skin tone/peachy/tan color and/or light purple/lavender would've been really nice. But this set has a nice gray, which neither of the other sets do, and otherwise is pretty well-rounded for a small set, in my humble opinion. There is one thing that bugs me about this color selection though; there's one pencil, 16 Ultramarine, that from the paint on the pencil looks like the typical darker warm blue color you'd expect Ultramarine to be, but when you swatch it out, the color is noticeably lighter. So, in reality, it's about the same darkness/value as the regular 15 Blue. This is disappointing because that means unless you use black there's not a good darker blue in the set to shade with. The irony is that another color, 23 Magenta, is a lot more saturated/vibrant on the pencil than it is swatched. This is less disappointing because the slightly darker, more muted hot pink color is arguably more useful that the brighter, more fuchsia-ish color would've been. Otherwise, the colors on the pencils match the swatches fairly well. But I think the disparity is largely because there's no white base layer between the wood of the pencil and the color dips, and so the colors on the pencils are all slightly tainted by the color of the wood. Even with a layer of white pencil, with these or any other pencils, my tan and gray papers always affect the final colors, so it does matter. Anyway. As for performance, for the price point--which I'm garnering as the $13-$14 range because that's what I paid, even though it can be higher--they do really well. They're not as soft as Prismacolor, but from my pre-purchase research, I had already expected that for both these and the Irojitens. And I mean, if we're being realistic as this point there's only like two pencil brands I will ever expect to be as soft as good ol' Prismacolor--the Caran D'ache Luminance and the Holbein pencils from Japan--but those are ludicrously expensive and so it will probably be quite a while before I can see how true that impression holds. Unless the pencils are so hard/unpigmented that it hurts my hand to use them when coloring for long amounts of time (20 minutes or more sessions), I typically don't count that super harshly against the pencils. But I digress. It is a little queer though because these pencils--it's like they're somewhat soft at the same time that they're noticeably rigid, which reminded me somewhat of the Faber Castell Polychromos, which are an oil-based pencil. I couldn't find a definitive answer--on the Tombow website or the Amazon listing--on if these pencils or the Irojitens are supposed to be oil or wax-based (though I could have missed it somewhere), but this combined with the more creamy feel on the paper makes me think they're actually a strong wax/oil hybrid. When they go down on the paper, the amount of friction and general feel is nearly identical to wax-based pencils (creamy feel as opposed to oil pencils having a silky/gliding feel), but the more rigid nature and the fact that these prefer to be layered up slowly rather than trying to go right for a heavy pressure layer to get the best color pay-off is definitely more in the family of oil-based pencils. And they don't have as much a of a "waxy" sheen when you move them in the light, again like oil-based pencils. I'd almost say they are oil-based, but there's just enough feel of a wax-based pencil, and the way they look on the paper, I don't feel comfortable sticking them squarely in that category. As for layering and blending, my research had also pre-cautioned me that these do better to layer them up slowly instead of trying to burnish them in right away. And that does indeed seem to be the case, just like with the aforementioned Polychromos. You can get decent color pay-off from going in heavy straight away, but it's easier on the hand and I would say looks and feels better to use layers instead. They do blend better than I expected from the way they felt; it's not super-duper smooth like Prismacolor or like I've had with Schpirerr Farben sometimes, but it is pretty smooth and as you can see here is very workable. It helps that they do appear to have the layering power you'd expect from other oil or oil-hybrid pencils, meaning while the first couple of layers look a little rough and concerning, once you've built them up they smooth out and you can keep going to build them up for noticeably longer than your typical wax-based pencil. All this in mind and backing up a little bit, the white was disappointing to me because it's not that strong/pigmented on its own. It's not the worst I've ever seen, but unless you put the white down first and pre-plan where you're going to want that strong white highlight and avoid going over it with other colors, it's not very good for adding strong white color back into a drawing over other color layers. But it is pretty good for blending, which I find tends to be the give and take on white-colored pencils: if they can't stand strongly on their own they usually work better as blenders. You'll also notice that despite my earlier comment on not having a proper darker blue/Ultramarine color, I was able to fake it pretty well here by layering up purples, blues, and a bit of black. And overall I'd say they do mix pretty well to make new colors, so the smaller set size is a little less of a problem than I initially expected. I also have to mention that in testing they have some of the best erasing I've ever seen for colored pencils that aren't specifically marketed as being erasable. Naturally, they don't erase 100% completely just like no colored pencil does, but it did really surprise me. Also, my white gel pens were a little fussy over top of these pencils. Not as bad as some other pencils I've tried, but they responded very similarly to how my other wax-based pencils do. But obviously, I was able to get them to work without too much headache. Overall, I give the pencils a 3.5 out of 5, which is pretty good as far as my standards for colored pencils go. I did take into account that I'm not crazy about the hinged lid on the tin them come in, but that's not a huge dealbreaker as it doesn't make the tin annoying or outright unusual to me, unlike other packaging issues have in the past. Also, of course, I took into account the other issues I mentioned, along with even my beloved Prismacolors only get a 4.5 out of 5 for minor issues and there always being room for improvement, even for favorites or "the best." Like I said earlier, the pencils really did surprise me for the price that I paid. That said, this does make me want to get the Irojitens to compare and see the proof in the pudding as to whether they really are the same core or not, as well as if they are to just have many more colors at my disposal to pick from, as in the end, I think that really was my biggest problem with these; 24 is just not a huge range of color to pick from. And, like I said at the very beginning, the packaging gimmick for the Irojitens constantly calls my name, but I'll save talking about that for the day that I actually have them in my hands, whenever that ends up being. I'd say if you want an experience that manages to hit somewhere between Polychromos/oil-based colored pencils and Prismacolor/wax-based colored pencils, that are still pretty nice quality and won't totally break the bank, these are very much worth a try. And now if you'll excuse me, I have some other supplies and some backlogged art on my to-do list that demand my attention. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

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witch-of-the-west-country · 8 years ago

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Yet more Lucas Fiction

This file is a bit of a beast, so I’ve had to split it before it gets to the juicy bits. Many apologies for that, but I’ll hopefully be able to upload part 3 tomorrow.

Switch Part 2

If she’d been able to kick her own ass for stupidity, she would have done so. What the fuck had she gotten herself into?

She’d apparently had no idea what he’d meant when he talked about “playing” or having a playmate, but it had been safe to assume he’d referred to sex, she reasoned. That’s what men wanted from women, wasn’t it?

She sighed as she followed Lucas down the slimy corridor. Whatever he’d originally intended, it was too late to take it back now. She’d sucked his skinny cock and firmly cemented herself into the role of sex toy.

Lucas stopped at the end of the corridor. There was a lumpy old, stained backpack by the door and he picked it up, slipping an arm through one of the straps before turning to her.

“Pay attention now, cos I ain’t gonna repeat myself and this stuff is important,” he said. “Now, I know that your interest in me, flatterin’ though it may be, ain’t 100% genuine. I may be ugly but I ain’t dumb. That bein’ said, believe me when I tell you I do not give one single shit whether it’s real or not. You volunteered to take one for the team, for whatever reason you felt necessary, and that is good enough for me. Plus you give good head. That helps.

“Anyways, bearin’ that in mind, as we leave here you might get it into your head that it would be a good idea to run away. If that thought occurs to you, you jest go ahead and cast that notion aside. I cannot stress that enough. You see, you will be caught. If my mother or father catch you, you will either end up dead or you will become somethin’ even worse, and neither of those things will be pleasant while they’re happenin’. Trust me on that. Also, once we go through this door, you are gonna see some shit that will leave you questionin’ the very nature of existence. So whatever happens, you stay close to me and do as you are told. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Now. Is there anything you wanna say before we go?”

She thought for a moment. She had so many questions it would take a year to ask them all and he was already looking impatient. But one thing in his little pep talk had struck her.

“You ain’t ugly,” she said.

He stared at her, his mouth falling open.

“What?”

“I said you ain’t ugly,” she repeated. She shrugged. She’d been called a lot of things in her time, ugly being one of them, and she knew how certain words could stain your soul. Whoever had come up with that saying about sticks and stones had been full of shit as far as she was concerned.

Lucas shook his head.

“Out of everything I said, that’s the one thing you pick up on. Girl, I don’t know if you’re sassy or just plain retarded, but I guess it don’t matter right now. We gotta get out o’ here.”

He grabbed her wrist.

“Keep up,” he warned, and opened the door.

If Lucas had been vague about what horrors lay beyond the door, it soon became apparent that he hadn’t been lying. After her first glimpse of one of those….things….his caveat about keeping close was no longer necessary. She stuck so close to his side that they could have been mistaken for conjoined twins.

They moved through the murk swiftly but stealthily. Lucas didn’t appear to be concerned about the squelchy monsters but he was certainly worried about something else. After what he’d said, it had to be his parents, but she couldn’t imagine how they could be worse than the lumbering monstrosities that slurped in and out of the walls.

After an interminable amount of time they came to a door that appeared to have a crow nailed to it. Unphased, Lucas unshouldered his backpack and rooted around in it. She watched curiously as, after a certain amount of clanking, he produced a large metal rod with feathers stuck to it.

He turned and spoke to her for the first time since they’d left the cells.

“You did real good. Didn’t even scream when the Molded came out. I was very nearly impressed. We’re nearly outta the woods now, but there’s a coupla areas we have to get through that might be a little tricky. So if I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to run, you run. Got it?”

She nodded. He didn’t have to tell her twice.

“Good.”

He slotted the end of the metal bar into a depression in the door and twisted. She heard the grate of a mechanism and then the door was open. Lucas poked his head through the gap cautiously.

“Coast’s clear. Come on.”

She huddled close to his back as they slipped into the new area. For some reason she was more terrified than she had been down below and she found herself clinging to the filthy fabric of his hoodie as if it would protect her as she looked around.

They were in a large dusty room with a table in the middle of it. Off to the left, two sweeping staircases arched up to the next floor. A large double door stood under one of them and she could hear voices coming from the other side, raised in argument.

“You’re the one who let that cock-guzzling shit-heel escape!” screeched a woman’s voice suddenly. “I told you not to leave the dog heads in the door. Now I gotta find that whoremaster and make the fucking dinner!”

She felt Lucas’s body tense.

“Shit,” he murmured. “Momma’s mad. We better hurry.”

He pulled her off to the right where a door stood open. Fresh air breezed through it.

“The second we get outside, we run. OK?” he whispered.

She nodded, any words she might have spoken choked down by fear.

Treading softly, they crossed the room and slipped through the door.

Lucas didn’t miss a beat as they exited onto the veranda, breaking into a run as soon as they’d crossed the threshold. His dirty sneakers pounding the boards, he took the short flight of stairs ahead of them at a leap, launching himself from the top step and landing on the grass below.

Nearly overwhelmed by panic, she followed his lead. It didn’t occur to her at any point to try to escape, her only thought as they raced across the overgrown lawn to stay as close behind Lucas as possible, which was easier said than done as the man moved like a fucking greyhound.

Lucas dug in his pocket as they ran, pulling out two flat objects, one red and one blue. As they reached their destination, a secure looking door with an old toilet next to it, she saw they were some kind of key cards that he slotted into holders.

The door popped open and Lucas yanked her inside, slamming it shut behind them.

“Whoo-wee! What a rush!” howled Lucas as she paused to catch her breath, staggering beneath the weight of her terror. She could see his manic grin even in the gloom.

She didn’t respond, bending over with her hands braced on her knees, panting. She was a wreck of nervous, spent energy, the adrenaline making her body shake, but that bastard hadn’t even broken into a sweat.

He watched her for a while, waiting for her to recover. The fact that he wasn’t hurrying her indicated that they were in a safe area, so she allowed herself to relax slightly. It was only when he began to tap his foot impatiently that she straightened.

“You done now? Ready to move on?”

She wasn’t fooled by his questions. They were moving on whether she was ready or not. She nodded anyway.

“Great. Well – ladies first!”

He gestured to the narrow flight of stairs next to her.

She began to climb them, Lucas following. He was uncomfortably close and she wondered whether he was using the opportunity to study her ass. Her suspicions were confirmed when they reached the top and she turned to see him leering at her.

“Not bad,” he commented, reaching around her. She thought he was going to give her ass a swat but instead he grabbed her through her jeans, squeezing almost to the point of pain. “Not bad at all….”

She forced herself to smile up at him and he smirked back, using the handful of ass-flesh he held to pull her closer. Her belly bumped up against his, her breast squashing against his chest. He moved his face nearer, studying her reaction. She could feel his breath against her lips and she expected him to kiss her, but he seemed more interested in what was behind her.

She felt his other hand join the first, kneading her ass as if it were PlayDoh. His cock was stiff again, nudging intrusively against her thigh. She wondered if she was going to be fucked right there in that bare room on the dusty floorboards.

Splinters! Her mind interjected, far more practical than afraid.

“Baby, you’re turning me on,” he murmured, his lips almost touching hers. His eyes had taken on that glazed look again, stupid with lust. Fuck-drunk, she’d always called it. She steeled herself, ready to cope with what was to come, but to her relief he suddenly released his hold on her, pushing her gently away with a look of real regret.

“Much as I’d like to do you right here and now, this probably ain’t the time or the place. Not exactly romantic, is it?” He laughed before turning away. “Come on now. We’re nearly there.”

She trailed him through a series of rooms and corridors. She got the sense that this was his personal territory, and though he clearly favoured practicality over aesthetics, most of the place was the cleanest she’d seen yet. There were some poorly lit areas where indistinct figures stirred wetly in the shadows, but mostly there were bright lights and white painted walls. There were a puzzling amount of armless mannequins scattered throughout the rooms and she tried not to let them creep her out too much, knowing it was silly to be troubled by them after what she’d already been through.

They reach a final door, armoured, with a keypad next to it. Lucas stood in front of it, shielding it from her view as he tapped in a 4-digit code. There was a buzz and the door clicked open. Lucas stepped back and waved her through. He looked relaxed and unconcerned, so she assumed she was about to enter a safe area.

Relatively safe, anyhow. There might not be mould monsters, but there was a possibly human one right behind her.

The door slammed shut behind them with a clang. Lucas brushed past her, dumping his backpack on a threadbare but clean couch.

“Welcome to my centre of operations,” he said. “Ain’t too shabby, huh?”

She had to agree. Compared to what she’d seen so far this was almost cosy. There was the couch, a large TV wired up to an old VCR with a stack of VHS tapes beside it, a bookcase loaded with luridly coloured paperbacks, and a table, scattered with bits of wire and tools.

“Got everythin’ I need here,” he bragged. “Got a kitchen, a bathroom, a laundry room – and o’ course, a bedroom.” He winked at her. “But before I invite you to make yourself at home, we got some business to take care of. Take them jeans off.”

#lucas baker #resident evil 7 #fanfic

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kbaldwin0609 · 8 years ago

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‘The Bachelor’ Recap: Cold Comfort

Warning: This recap contains spoilers for Episode 9, part 2 of The Bachelor.

And we’ve reached the endurance test portion of the season, rose lovers! For sanity’s sake (mine and yours), I’m dividing my recap of this week’s “three-hour Bachelor event” into two parts. First up: Raven’s Quest For an Orgasm. Let’s get to it!

When last we saw Raven and Nick, they were settling down for a night of potential passion in secluded, glass-roofed cabin. The action picks up about 8-12 hours later, as the bed-headed duo smooch and say their goodbyes. “I had a really nice time with you last night,” murmurs Nick. “I had a nice time with you too,” responds Raven, not very enthusiastically I might add. But maybe she’s just being coy, because when pressed for some clarity by producers, Raven has this to say:

What follows is a 500 Days of Summer-esque montage of a sexually liberated Raven skipping her way down the snowy streets of Lapland, high-fiving strangers and kissing reindeer, as one does.

Nope, she’s totally not going to regret this at all.

Now that we can all rest easy in the knowledge that ABC hired a Bachelor with sex skills, let’s move on to Nick’s next date. Rachel, you’re up! She’s “so excited” to be in this “Narnia” like “winter wonderland,” but it’s hard to feel the same way… as this has to be the week she gets booted, right? Rather than focusing on that sadness, let us instead turn our attention to the fact that Rachel has never heard of cross-country skiing before. How is that possible? Yes, she lives in Texas, but that didn’t stop her from knowing what snow is. I just don’t get it.

Anyhow, she and Nick hit the trails — slowly, as Rachel keeps wiping out. They make their way to a little establishment called Lapland Safaris, where they feed some reindeer and then get cozy by the fire for smooches and steaming hot beverages in rustic tin cups. Rachel admits that she’s “scared” of the feelings she has for Nick, and the Bachelor assures her that he gets it. He urges her to stay focused on their ability to talk through the myriad stressful situations they’ve faced (think, beach volleyball), because it means they have a good relationship. “You’re rare and refreshing,” marvels a smitten Rachel. Nick’s comeback — “I might be white but I’m still a minority” — is both delightful and cringeworthy.

That night over drinks, Rachel is clearly trying to work up the courage to give Nick the “verbal affirmation of love” that he needs. “It’s very hard for me sometimes to verbalize things,” she admits to him. But Nick has a retort at the ready: “Be willing to have the strength to be a bit of a mess sometimes.” Huh? Look, you don’t have to get it — the most important thing is that these Words of Wisdom finally push Rachel over the edge. (In a good way.)

Nice work, honey! Though Rachel tries to hide her face in her sweater, Nick pulls her in for a smooch and some encouragement. “Rachel, I am falling for you, 100 percent.” Dammit, I believe him. Why are we going to be denied this happy ending, universe? And yes, I realize that I am tragically overinvested in this whole situation.

Team Bachelor adds insult to injury by choosing to overlay this soundbite from Rachel over footage of Nick making out with her in the Fantasy Suite: “I know we’re going to so much deeper than we’ve gone before.” We are not here for your tawdry double entendres about Rachel, gentlemen!

I am absolutely here for Rachel’s adorable penguin jammies, though.

“I’m looking to seal the deal,” gushes Rachel, who is already thinking ahead to meeting Nick’s family. “I’m good with families. Families like me.” Oh, the humanity! Can we please just move on to the last date now?

Vanessa meets Nick at Lapland Safaris (again? Man, those interns are getting lazy), where she learns that their date will involve… an ice bath. Her response, “No f***ing way!”, is certainly a lot less vomit-inducing than Nick’s shamelessly-produced sound bite: “Falling in love is a big leap of faith, and certainly so is jumping in freezing cold water.” (You didn’t think Team Bachelor could go a full season without dusting off that Leap of Faith™ simile, did you?)

We interrupt this recap to bring you an extremely unfortunate frame grab.

Okay, now that that’s taken care of, time to get into the ice pool you crazy kids!

“It hurts!” moans Nick, as he and Vanessa bolt out of the torture bath and into the warming hut. To their credit, the second time the last a wee bit longer, and pretty soon Vanessa’s completely on board.

Naturally, the whole exercise becomes a metaphor for overcoming “obstacles” and getting through “things” as a couple. Because if you can count to Ten Mississippi in an ice bath, surely you can handle anything the real world throws at you — like financial worries, health scares, child-rearing challenges — right?

Everything’s going great, until Nick notes that Vanessa’s family is very traditional, adding, “I’m not traditional at all.” What he’s really trying to get at, though, is that his first serious relationship was with a woman whose family was “very present” — meaning they were always up in Nick and his GF’s business. “Over time, that complicated our relationship,” he explains. (Clearly, his lunch with Vanessa and 193 members of her extended family gave the Bachelor a little romantic PTSD.)

Vanessa’s all, Too bad, pal — if you choose me you’d better block out three hours every Sunday for our big family meal. A reminder: As far as we know, they still haven’t talked about where they’re going to live after their Bachelor “journey” is over. Chop chop, you two! Time’s a wastin’!

Will they finally get around to it at dinner? Thank the Lord, yes.

“I’ve never imagined living in Canada,” says Nick. “And I’ll be honest, that’s not easy for me to picture. I hope that’s not a non-negotiable.” Seriously, Vanessa — you can’t expect a self-described “proud American” like Nick to just up and relocate to the Great White North, can you? (And now he literally can’t go, given his commitment to a certain ABC ballroom dance competition.) If we could read Vanessa’s mind right now, I think it would look something like this:

Nick’s seeing some red flags of his own — namely how “similar” he and Vanessa are. They’re both “impulsive” and stubborn, and he worries that could “complicate” things down the road. “We’re passionate people,” he notes. “We want what we want.”

Truth. So, where do Nick and Vanessa go from here? To the Fantasy Suite, silly! Those Big Questions About the Future can wait — especially now that Vanessa has officially declared her love.

Oh God, you know what that means, rose lovers — it’s almost time for Rachel to be sent packing.

It’s almost too much for Nick to bear. “This decision very difficult,” he stammers in broken English, his voice breaking. “I just want you to know how much I care about all of you.” After wiping away his tears, Nick hands out his two roses — first to Raven, and then, of course, to Vanessa. The good news is, Rachel still looks stunning, even mid-rejection.

Our future Bachelorette gives Raven a warm embrace, and then offers Vanessa a polite, one-armed hug. Nick leads her too the Reject Couch — it’s too cold for the traditional Bye-Bye Bench outside — and tearfully apologizes for not loving her, in so many words. After an excruciatingly long hug, Rachel and Nick say goodbye forever — or at least until the After the Final Rose taping.

“It’s like, back to square one,” laments Rachel in the Reject SUV. Never mind, girl. Soon enough you’re going to have so many men beating down your door (so to speak), you won’t even remember that scruffy-faced white boy.

And thus concludes part one of tonight’s The Bachelor extravaganza. Let me know your thoughts about Nick’s choice in the comments below. And let’s meet back here later tonight to discuss the Women Tell All.

The Bachelor airs Mondays at 8 p.m. on ABC. Watch clips and full episodes of The Bachelor for free on Yahoo View.

#_revsp:wp.yahoo.tv.us #the bachelor #_uuid:5af555d7-9ebd-395c-b38b-2c71edfaf6d1 #_author:Kristen Baldwin #_lmsid:a0Vd000000AE7lXEAT

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filosofablogger · 7 years ago

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Welcome and a Jolly Monday morning to you all! I’ve looked forward to your arrival, and while I waited for you, I baked … COOKIES!!! Come in, grab some coffee, pull up a chair! So, how was your weekend? Mine was fine … nothing too spectacular, except that on Saturday morning I did not get awake and out of bed until … well, until it was no longer Saturday morning! So, I have been running behind schedule all weekend, did not get a second post out on Saturday, and did not keep my promise to Miss Goose to dig through the boxes of Christmas decorations. I did buy some Christmas candy for the jars … whenever I come across the jars. And, I got up early on Sunday morning, thinking to get my grocery shopping done before the crowds came, but that plan was foiled too, for when I arrived at just after 10:00 a.m., the parking lot was already packed! I forgot … there was a six-hour power outage the night before that had Kroger shut down, so everybody and their brother (not to mention their little kids pushing their carts into other shoppers) were there first thing! But alas, I kept my head down, got only what was on the list for the week, and was out within 45 minutes and for under $100, so … mission accompli!

What say we start the week out with some laughs, or at least head-shakers? I’ve gathered an assortment today that I hope will get your week off to a good start. Oh, by the way, do you realize that it is only exactly three weeks ‘til Christmas? Why didn’t somebody tell me sooner? When did they move the date up?

O’ Christmas Tree …

Somebody in Sudbury, Massachusetts bought their Christmas tree last week, and transported it home, as most of us who do not own pick-up trucks do, on the top of their car. A picture is worth a thousand words …

“Sudbury PD would like to remind you to transport your holiday trees responsibly.” No word on whether the driver was stopped, ticketed, or warned.

There are better ways to treat depression …

The rickshaw driver went to the hospital in India complaining of stomach pain. According to Dr. Priyank Sharma …

“The patient was complaining of stomach pain, so we thought of getting an endoscopy done. We were shocked to discover that coins, nails and nut-bolts in his stomach. We come across such a case for the first in our career.”

Dr. Priyank Sharma

The team of doctors, led by Dr. Priyank, found 263 coins and 100 nails in the patient’s stomach. Apparently, he was suffering from depression and this had caused him to start the munching of the metal. According to Dr. APS Geharwar, “Usually, people start eating abnormal things under certain psychological conditions. He had been eating metal for a year but did not tell anyone. Normally, there is no problem until these particles start obstructing the intestines. In this case, the problems had started.”

The metal has been removed from the patient’s stomach, and he is stable, though not considered to be out of the woods yet. People, don’t try this one at home, okay?

Her heart was bigger than her wallet …

I like people who give when they can, whether to a humane society, children’s hospital, homeless shelter, or any of a number of other worthy charities. Danni Messina, 19, a student at Washington State University, may have gotten just a wee bit carried away … easy enough to do around this time of year, when there’s so much good cheer.

Danni wanted to help St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, a highly worthy cause. But she didn’t quite think this one through. She posted on Twitter that she would donate to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital — 50 cents for every retweet and 25 cents for every like. There were an awful lot of people out there who were willing to contribute to the cause, especially since it wasn’t hitting their own wallet!

“I was originally planning on donating personally $1,000.” But the tweet quickly amassed $210,000 worth of retweets and likes before she posted that she was cutting off the challenge!

Messina said the $210,000 total is a bit out of her budget, so she started a GoFundMe to help raise the money she promised to St. Jude’s.

“I am still in shock. I think it’s so incredible that people are donating because they saw my tweet. I love the awareness part of it, and it’s been awesome talking to St. Jude more.”

I imagine she learned a lesson that will stay with her throughout her lifetime!

What’s in a name?

Choosing a baby’s name isn’t rocket science, right? Hmmmm … maybe not, but it can certainly be angst-inducing. Donnie and I fought bitterly over the name for our first, and he finally gave in to me when we were told that I could not leave the hospital until I named the baby. To this day, daughter Chris still has no middle name, for that would have led to murder for sure! The second wasn’t a huge problem, but the third led to yet more fighting. So, it really is a big deal sometimes.

Imagine when she starts school …

Justin and Jordan Garton of Fort Smith, Arkansas, love Olive Garden restaurants. In 2015, they bought a “never ending pasta pass”, and committed to eating there every single day for 6-7 weeks to ensure they got their money’s worth. The love Olive Garden so much, in fact, that they have decided to name their baby, due this month, after the eatery, only with a bit of adaptation: Olivia Garton.

According to a spokesperson for Olive Garden, “We couldn’t have been more thrilled upon hearing about the Garton’s growing family. We always love hearing the unique ways our guests have been able to connect with Olive Garden, and we can’t wait to meet baby Olivia.”

The Gartons said they hid one other Easter egg in baby Olivia’s name: Her middle name will be Michelle, making her initials “O.M.G.” “I guess we just have to be those hashtag millennial parents,” Jordan Garton said.

Um … okay … I guess …

Life in the fast lane …

You know those carpool lanes some cities have on their expressways? The ones that are only for cars with more than one occupant, and you can be ticketed if you violate that rule? Well, a Texas driver thought she was being pretty smart in figuring a way around the rules. Her ‘passenger’ …

… was actually a mannequin, decked out in sunglasses, lipstick, a blond wig and a zip-up sweater while sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Ted Heap, Harris County Constable for Precinct 5, has been cracking down on violators of this rule of late, and in reviewing the video from November 30th, they spotted this fake right away. Frankly, from the picture, I’m not sure I would have noticed, but then my eyes aren’t all that sharp! Anyway, the woman who saved a bit of time and a $3.20 toll that day, will now miss a day’s work to go to court, and faces a possible $150 fine! Goes to show what my grandpa always said, “Crime doesn’t pay”.

Well, my dear friends, we need to get a move on, for you don’t want to start the week out being late to work! And this week, as I have my new dryer, I am once again happily going to gather a load of towels to wash! I would remind you that even though it is the ‘Holly Jolly’ season, the season of ho ho ho, mistletoe, and lots of brightly-coloured lights, many suffer a bit of depression, some loneliness, during this time. Give people an extra smile, stop a moment and say, “Hi, how are you today?”, check on your elderly neighbors. These things are more in the spirit of giving than buying a gift. Keep warm, keep safe, and have a happy week! I love you all!

🎵 Holly Jolly Monday 🎵 Welcome and a Jolly Monday morning to you all! I’ve looked forward to your arrival, and while I waited for you, I baked … …

#a dummy in the fast lane #christmas cookies #Don&039;t eat the money!#Giving run amok #Maxine #Olive Garden #one huge Christmas tree #St. Jude Research Hospital

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arbitor420-blog · 7 years ago

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School

I want to start a privatized school that encourages everyone to think and act properly but also put them through rigorous tests while giving them constructive criticism and feeding their soul so that they may prosper indefinitely, if you think that’s a good idea please spread this around, it wouldn’t be anything huge to start with just a small kind of school for everyone of all ages to come and learn for basically the price of rent, and it’d have its own economy with jobs and positions for everyone to fill. I imagine it sort of like a school with wings, but for the more intelligent and adaptive of people, but it’d have a thin line of what is acceptable and what isn’t, it would be a prestigious honorary military school, with sub areas that focus on art and music but are also graded very strictly and must pass a certain standard of different, because I need new art, music now a days is trash, I want classical ideas and smart poets, business men, leaders of every brain working to sustain a brighter future than the present we currently live in, it’s that or we live in a world of people who just throw around swear words and insult people every time they’re mad instead of hitting them or breaking something

Because calling kids stupid and sending them to a stupid school was easier than working out their depression, so now I’m saying screw the system, I oppose the American government, I am a terrorist by definition.

I mean that’s what musicians and artists are, hell im almost sure 90% of the population is against Satan by now, let’s get him out of the office and focus on more important pursuits like can I get my fucking medicine so I can think again, or am I gonna have to crawl up the ass the beast and put my opinion inside of it.

So just pass around the idea, words hurt more than you think, but words also heal, and organized words with a structed setting to build something brighter than living on this planet the rest of my life is the only hope I need.

Because no one actually beleives there’s a conspiracy theory that Donald Trump is Satan himself, I mean only religious butt faces could beleive that.

I’m a 100% atheist American maniac depressive with brain that’s constantly dead, so how then am I supposed to be creative and build shit, when you tell me I’m supposed to sit here and obey orders.

And it’s like well we were just trained better than you.

Well fuck you son of a bitch with your orange skin, not everyone can just sit in his daddy’s office and make millions of dollars in one day.

This is just a headspin if emotions guys just hear me out for a wee bit longer okay

I’m saying if the apocalypse is real, and if I’m not death even tho I feel like I’m dead, emotionally, mentally, drained, but I never get drained physically, because I’m absolutely numb to that feeling, however if you put me in a boxy, room thing, and you tell me what to do I’m going to assume you’re a worthless teacher who doesn’t fucking know anything.

But wait if I can learn it on my own much quicker oh well gee it’s a good thing we have online classes too incase you still want to learn about how to be responsible and learn your history of music because it’s all based around music even my theory of everything just has some big mysterious person in the background watching the whole thing go on, and then once we’re done with that part of corse we’ll still be here we’ll just have to get past all the religious people of course because they wouldn’t read anything honestly here on tumblr so I said hey good place to start,

Now everyone thinks that we should just do it and stick to the script with this, however I had a better idea I was going to explain the whole thing out so people can understand it better as it gets going good okay still here

Satan, God, Jesus, Holy Ghost, all sounds ominously like pegan religions, were being controlled by fear, they’re brain washing kids to be scared, everything is about being scared, and when you’re not scared your like oh none of its real, but music is real, and so is the brain, and art, and the human body and it all has to be built properly on proper nutrition and with proper diets for everyone because if you aren’t doing what you need to do it’s pointless so please share just anything you want about this

But if you want religion gone you have to start at the kids, but if you want to build your own religion you just start throwing the idea out there and hope people find it and go with it. Until then good luck everyone best of life to you, were all energy.

Doomsday is nearing or something, conspiracies and shit, i conspired against the government, I’m going to hell, oops, fbi please notice me already I want to know if Area 51 is real.

Like, reblog, donate if you want! Who cares the worlds still gonna spin! M out.

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deathgripesgla-blog · 8 years ago

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Creeper, in review Eternity, these songs go on for eternity.

This album opens with a single piano, arpegiated, followed by a rather English sounding female vocal with backing harmonies.

Suddenly you are hit by a rather flat sounding drum kit which makes it hard for me to tell the difference between snare hits and the kick drum.

I suspect that over compression is the problem here, I myself have been enjoying uncompressed kick sounds and only slight snare compression which allows for the grit and voice to shine. Over compression is something that comes up repeatedly for me during my time listening to this album, as it feels to me that everything that isn’t a vocal is flat, giving the album a very 2D feeling.

The second song reminds me of bands like The Wonder Years and Four Years Strong, a mixture of, once again heavily compressed drums (which are boring to listen to as well kick-snare with occasional rolls and fills that leave much to be desired). Finally halfway through the song some width seems added to the mix, with splash of ride and crash added to my ears, but are slowly worked out and squeezed back into the middle by harmonies and a crescendo that leads back into a rather repetitive and boring sounding.

3 Stodzies out of 5

Track three resonated with me at it’s start and occasional breaks. It seems like Creeper are at their best when they are imitating other bands, or taking inspiration at least to me it seems this way. The intro once again harkens back to earlier hardcore/pop-punk bands like FYS and mixes in a few tinges of AK3 and a vocal delivery that vaguely reminds me of The Holy Mess (?), however the production once again lets me down, as well as the rhythm section’s lack of imagination.

3 Stodzies out of 5

Hiding with the boys, dear lord. What a name. Like seriously, did they just listen to FYS and THM before writing this ? I do actually like this song a bit, mainly because it seems to not have as many shouted choruses as the other songs on the album, I like the verses quite a bit, however the middle 8 and choruses are boring. STOP COMPRESSING THE DRUMS AND GUITARS!!! And what is that Beach Slang sounding lyric delivary at 2:20 ?

4 Stodzies out of 5

Track Five, Misery, starts rather standard, arppegiated chords over breathy vocals about girls and growing up. I would’ve enjoyed this as a small break between louder songs but it goes on for an impressive 4 minutes. An other complaint I have of this album is that I feel most of the songs could be about a minute shorter, which to me makes them more enjoyable. All the song nears it’s end the crescendo begins, along with comparisons between the singer and the eye of his affections belongings ? Just cut it at 90s and leave with a good wee tune.

3 Stodzies out of 5

Track Six, six songs of mostly cliche, in production (I am really upset by the production), it is clear who this album is appealing to at this point. That being the post-emo crowd, painting images of vulnerable girls and protective guys, sadness mixed with compassion (Gerrard Way called and he wants his song writing cheque in the mail asap pls). This song leaves much to be desired, so many harmonic choruses that are clearly designed to have 18 year old girls and 20 year old guys with their hands up in the air singing unaccompanied.

Also what the hell is that cadence at the end all about ? Are you the dropkick murphy’s now ?

2 Stodzles out of 5

I’m not even gonna bother repeating myself on this song.

I like the small amount of bass I can hear that isn’t drowned out by the narrow mix.

3 Stodzles out of 5

Here we reach my favourite song on this album, solely because it’s different. Cliched start with the cricket ambience. The vocals on this track and the instrumentation give me a small relief in the middle of this dense compression riddled, and flat sounding album. Personally I would say this song gives me a very Paramorish feeling, with a tinge of gravel on the lovely English voice that assaults my ears with her complaints. Someone give this woman a big hug, and then tell her to end the song about a minute earlier than they did.

4 Stodzles out of 5

Darling, oh darling. Like. I mean. Just listen to this. This band have that sound, minus the more premium production available to a band signed to a major label. And although this album is less intrinsic in it’s instrumentation, each instrument has it’s place. Which is what I desperatly wish Creeper had on this album. Simply looking at the personnel on this album gives me an anxiety attack.

3 Stodzles out of 5

This next song is by The Holy Mess and is called The Saddest Girl to Ever Hold a Martini, it’s good. I just needed to listen to something less asaulting on my senses as the album that Neil Kennedy and co. seem to have sat on.

5 Stodlzes out of 5

Okay after listening to 2 Holy Mess Albums I find myself required by a sense of admiration for someone to finish my review of this Creeper album, which is coined as being horror punk, the only thing horrorific about it being how Danzig and co. must feel about that term being used on their band, the Misfits, and this band. AND the production.

Winonna Forever, once again is just so akin to other bands that I find it hard to seperate this band from bands I already like, who do a better job. This song however does something else for me, possibly in the arangement or the compostion of the rhytmn section which is a bit different from other songs I feel. But as I type this the song launches back into that Snare-Hat-Kick combo that riddles this album like right wing trolls riddle a message board on equality. The highlight of this song are the hooks, the parts where the the vocalist sings about Winona and the heart tattoo. This section could have led into a great ending but it is pested by an extended outro that seems to add nothing but a bit of heaviness to the song ? Be my winona though, cause that hook is great.

4.5 Stodzles out of 5

I Choose To Live is a precusionary tale about how you will feel as you reach the end of this gloomy over produced album, filled with musical references and catchy cliches.

Or at least that's what I think it's about. This song brings the 11 track album to a close and could easily be a minute shorter, or 5 minutes longer if it did something cool.

3 Stodzles out of 5

Overall, I can see the appeal of this album, who it is aimed at, however I feel like this band desperatly need a different direction, a new producer, a new idea of how to mix their music. To call this horror punk makes me rather ill as it is more 00s emo than anything else.

This is certainly an album I could bare to listen to, although it would not be the forefront of my attention, and it is something I could bare with watching live, although I wouldn't dare dance. Just cut a minute off your songs and make them less dense for gods sake, you’re punks.

I give this album 68 Craigzies out of 100

Here are some songs that I feel nail the vibe and feel that this band should aim for, between production and composition, and the general instrumentation of songs.

Neat Neat Neat

The Damned - Neat Neat Neat for driving gothy words

Masked Intruder - Wish You Were Mine for harmonies and production, and for lovely words about love mixed with punk.

The Misfits - Skulls for the horror aspects, it's literally a song about murder and aliens and weird shit, real horror. Any self respecting Horror-insert genre band should follow these guys' example a little bit.

xox

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mrszubes-blog · 8 years ago

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Hobbies & All That Weirdness

To my darling husband,

Since we met almost 4 years ago, we have traded back and forth so many habits, hobbies, and interests. I think that’s part of meeting someone new, developing a relationship with this person, and deciding to spend the rest of your life with this person. You pick up on the things that interest them, and you learn more about those things so that you can share in your significant other’s hobbies and interests.

When I sat down and thought about it, I actually came up with a few significant things that I’ve picked up from you.

- Whiskey: Where to begin! I think it was our third date; you bought me a very expensive shot of Macallan whiskey and insisted you were going to teach me ALL about scotch. You even had the Scottish accent to go with the talk. I was still getting used to your accents and quirks, so I must admit it took me a while to take you seriously. To be completely honest, that first $26 shot of Macallan tasted like burning. I had zero experience with drinking scotch straight or on the rocks. Before that, the strongest drink I’d ever had with a double Jack Daniels and Coke. So I was super confused on how this was a GOOD thing. Fast forward three years, and we were on our honeymoon in Scotland, visiting 14 distilleries and trying over 40 different whiskeys. We even picked up the last bottle of Macallan Ruby the distillery had (not a cheap investment!) and decided that instead of saving it, we’d drink a wee dram each anniversary. And it is, without a doubt, one of the best things I have ever tasted. (:

- Phonetics: When we first met, I was a bit confused by your fascination with different ways of pronouncing words and sounds. Rhyming and accents went hand in hand. I’ve long since lost count of the different accents you’ll slip into, but I do know that you reserve the Scottish accent for when you’re picking out a Scotch to drink, and you reserve the Jamaican accent for when you’re drunk off your ass (which is SO much fun for sober me!). These days, we flip back and forth on rhyming off words and sounds while making faces without even realizing 100% that we’re doing it. I think we scare other people sometimes.

- Working out/See-It-Eat-It: This one wasn’t one you intended to pass on, I think, but somehow it happened. When we first met, we were both a lot skinnier. You were on a hardcore 3x/wk, 2.5 hour work out schedule. And you got me to join in. I learned so much from you about strength training. I also learned that the reason your gym sessions were so long sometimes was because of the amount of cardio you did to burn off excess calories. Excess calories that came from seeing something delicious and just eating it all! Something we both lack is self-control around sweets, and while I tend to nibble at something periodically… you just inhale it whole. Hence the longer workouts. I must confess it’s really hard when you sit there with half a cake to not sit down beside you and eat the other half. For breakfast. And I know I’m no help either: I just love to bake, and we both love to eat it. Thankfully, I know that working together to track our food intake and get back to exercising more means that we’ll get on top of this weight thing soon. (:

That said, when I thought about it some more, there are some of ‘your things’ that I tried to understand and just completely failed, the main one being…

- Music: Try as I do, I’m just incompetent with music. I can’t carry pitch, I can’t keep a beat, and I still don’t know which string is which on a guitar. I couldn’t tell you the difference between an overdrive pedal and a fuzz pedal. Humbuckers and P90s all sound the same to me. Telecaster vs. Les Paul? No. Freaking. Clue. I just don’t have the ability to understand the difference between these things or how to use them myself. My music capability started and ended with high school band playing the alto saxophone, barely passing that before dropping it. While I do care that you are happy with your music gear choices, I know that my opinion will mean zip. So feel free to talk out your choices and thoughts, but please don’t look to me for final decisions! And also don’t ask me to tell you which pedal or pick up sounds better. As the expression goes, it’s all Greek to me!

- King Games/Other Phone Games: I’ve tried all of the games you play at some point or another. Honest, I have! And they just don’t hold my attention in the same way that they hold your attention. For you, they’re a way of unwinding, distracting you from a long day at work. For me, they’re a passing fancy. I’ll play up to level 20 and then delete it. Or I’ll play to level 5 and then forget about it for 6 months, before coming back and going to level 10. And then deleting it. I’ve got no problem with you playing them (except when I’m trying to tell you something), but I doubt I’ll ever really share that interest with you fully. I will periodically steal your phone and try level 1254 that you’re on, just to marvel that they don’t run out of ideas for these things. But that’s the extent of my understanding/interest.

I think the same can be said for you picking up things from me…

- Phonetics – Again: On the same lines, you’ve picked up some of my favourite phrases and phonetics too. The popular one that you love/hate is ‘Its dee-fferent’. I don’t know why I started saying it that way on occasion. Most likely to show that I’m mocking something as being different when it may not be all that different.

Example- Husband: “Let’s by chocolate mint cup ice cream.” Me: “No, that stuff sucks. Let’s buy candy cane chocolate crackle ice cream.” H: “They’re the same thing! Chocolate mint!” Me: “No they’re not. It’s dee-fferent.”

And the other day you quoted me and said ‘cold as balls out’. I’m not sure how I started using those sayings and spellings, but you’ve jumped right into using them. I’m so proud! (;

- Meal Planning: You’re starting to get into food prep and cooking, though very reluctantly. We’ve only recently taken steps to get you more involved in this process, and so far I think we’re both excited about how well that is working. You know how this works: I pull into the grocery store parking lot with a game plan. I have a grocery list, coupons, PC points list, and a route through the store. I’m in and out in 20 minutes. In the same time I can buy $100 of groceries and loop the store once to hit the check out, you’re still in the produce section admiring the hot peppers. You also see something super cool in every aisle and put in the cart to use sometime. Problem is, “sometime” doesn’t always fall before it expires or rots. But we’re both learning on how to make this work for both of us. We pick meals to make and compile a grocery list in advance. I slow down so you can look at all the cool stuff you didn’t know grocery stores had, and you show amazing self restraint to not to splurge and buy Aisle 6. Our first attempt at this last week went really well. We only went $25 over budget. I’m so proud of us! (:

Likewise, there are some of ‘my things’ that you just can’t get into. Namely…

- Harry Potter: I know you’ve tried. I know I’ve pushed you on it. But I’ve totally accepted that this is my thing. Well, it’s my obsession, as you say. I really can’t help myself. It’s only been in the last year that it’s really reached the point of obsession. I do read the books regularly. I watch the movies after I’ve read the books. I follow fan pages on Tumblr and Facebook. I joined Pottermore (FYI I’m in Gryffindor!) and I keep up to date on the spin offs and expansions of the series. I know you don’t understand, but please understand that for me, it’s the perfect escape. When life is just full of work and responsibilities, I can lose myself in a book about a young boy that faces battles and problems different from mine. I can focus on someone else’s fate, rather than my own. Next time you see me reading one of the books or watching one of the movies, please don’t give me a hard time. Instead, ask if I’m doing okay. Because I’m probably reading/watching again to avoid some bigger evil in my life. FYI the greatest gift you could give me would be to read the books with me or on your own. I can’t begin to tell you how much better the books are, how much more thorough and satisfying it is to read the deeper details of an intricate web of a story.

- Knitting/Looming: I think you just see any time I spend working on crafting projects such as knitting and looming or cross-stitching in front of the TV as time that could be better spent cuddling with you. Which I understand. And I promise to split my evenings between you and the craft projects. But another way I unwind is to do something with my hands while watching TV. I get twitchy and fidgeting otherwise. So do you, by the way. You fidget with the games on your phone. I think it would pain you to go through a whole TV show or movie without ONCE picking up your phone to flick through Facebook, check email, or play a game. It’s just how our weirdly similar brains work. I don’t fault it in you, so please don’t fault it in me.

I don’t worry about how different or similar we are. I like that we can share in some similar interests, and I like that we still retain our own independent activities and interests. But I do love how many memories we have while bonding over these now shared interests and activities. I love seeing you learn the titles of the Harry Potter movies, and I love seeing your enthusiasm as you attempt (in vain) to teach me the difference between a G cord and a D cord. We may giggle, roll our eyes, or sigh in exasperation. But we do it together. Forever and always.

All my love,

Your Wife

#love #marriage #husband #wife #weareforalways

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