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delldarling · 3 years

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diving stars | hior

male bog mummy x male reader 3754 words citrus | mild description of death, minor mention of blood, mild description of mummy having stitches (though not getting them), kissing, implied future relationship test match-up: Waaaayyyy back when, I decided I should try my hand at some match-ups. I wanted a unique experience for those coming to me for commissions, and so went through several versions of a 'choose your own adventure' kind of personality questionnaire. Matt, or @severedreamerbeard, was one of the people lovely enough to let me test out my match-up process! Thank you a whole gosh darn bunch Matt, for letting me do so in the first place, and I'm going to heap on extra thanks because I've been such a snail about it! <3

————-　🌠　————-

Much of the bog is a terrible endless black, with nothing to reflect but the cloud covered nighttime sky. Scrubby, dried grass circles the edges of the water, the torchlight making their flickering shadows look like creeping, growing thorns across the opaque surface, ready to snag the unwary and drag them down into the depths. There’ll be no coming back out of that dark water, Hior knows, not once he’s been pushed in.

I’ll close my eyes before I go under, he silently promises, though either way he supposes it shouldn’t matter much. The last thing his body sees will only ever be darkness. He swallows, tucks auburn hair behind his ears, calloused fingers catching at his skin, and pastes on a grim smile, turning to face the gathered people. He can’t linger any longer, no matter how much he would like to, not if he wants the rest of the village to make it through this. Not many of them have gathered, either. Just enough to see the ritual through to the end. Honestly, it’s better this way. If his brother had been allowed to leave the defenses, then Hagan would have interrupted Mother Gree, ritual or not. He would have tried to stop her, tried to stop Hior, even if it meant the loss of the village.

Hagan will be angry.

Hior sweeps his eyes over the surrounding villagers, their frightened faces and trembling hands, their teary eyes reflecting the torches in the misty dark. Hagan will be angry, but the fact of the matter is that he will still be alive to hold onto that anger. Hior can’t find it within himself to regret that.

There’s no time for being maudlin, Hior tells himself, and his smile becomes a bit too wide, stretching painfully at the corners.

This will be the last he ever sees of the village if the Gods deem his offering worthy, but that’s alright. Really. As long as he knows the village will be protected, as long as he knows that his people will do their best to endure, he's willing to fight his way through the Beyond and stay there.

Mother Gree begins to speak in a rough, ragged voice, worn through by years of pipe smoke and leaning over heavily herbed fires. Her words—the spell, the prayer—drape themselves around Hior’s shoulders like a heavy blanket, sweeping away the tension of his worries and the fear of the crowded villagers. Hior’s smile softens.

Mother Gree’s only warning is the icy grasp of her fingers, twisting sharply into the hair at the nape of Hior’s neck. The blade pinches. Wet heat spills down his throat and over his chest, soaking his clothes as he begins to fall backward.

Overhead, the clouds part, and a fierce rumbling fills the air, punctuated by sharp screams. A star, smaller than a pebble, but more brilliant by far than any flickering fire, falls out of the sky. It dives after Hior’s falling body, following him down into the depths of the bog.

The last thing Hior sees is light.

————-　🌠　————-

It’s midday, or just after, and there are odd shapes in the clouds, like reaching hands backlit by the sunshine. The shifting shades of them make it look like they’re trying very hard to break through the atmosphere, a primordial being grabbing for mortals like marbles. The wind picks up, and the flicker of pale warmth and the cloud hands are blown swiftly away, hidden by a tumult of grey and violet. It shouldn’t rain for hours yet, it’s not supposed to, but you’re starting to doubt the truth of the weather forecast. The sky is very clearly telling all watchers that a storm is on the way.

And here you are: distractedly doing your best to carefully skirt the edges of dreary, muddied water, hunting for a folktale. There are weak spots throughout the area, and one wrong step will have the ground turning to mush underfoot. Which, while fitting with the tales, is the last thing you’d ever want. Risk of drowning aside, all the local stories claim that it's your soul you really need to worry about, or you'll be trapped for eternity as 'a ghost given solid form'.

In other words, from what you’ve pieced together, that might mean something like a zombie?

Water sloshes, lapping strangely at the grassy shore and pulling you clean away from your thoughts. You know you shouldn't linger with the storm on the way, but something about the water keeps you from getting more than a few paces past. The noise, rising steadily, almost bubbling, draws you closer even as tension weighs down your steps. Whatever might be down there, you doubt it's anything pleasant, and you’ve had stories of zombies running through your head all afternoon. You edge closer anyway.

The shore grows terribly soft underfoot the closer you get, and it looks like something is struggling just under the surface, wriggling, a bit like—the water fountains. It soaks your shoe and the hem of your pant leg, while icy droplets speckle over your shirt and face. For a moment, a breath, your eyes fall closed as you attempt to wipe the water away. Something smooth and cold grabs hold of your ankle, yanking your foot forward so you slam back into the ground, a quick burst of pain flares in the back of your skull. Fingernails dig into your skin. You can’t remember shouting, can’t remember a loud noise, but your ears are ringing, adrenaline rocketing through your veins as the hand—the literal hand—heaves with all it’s might, pulling you towards the water. You scrabble backwards, you kick, trying to get free, but the arm tenses, fingers curling tighter around your ankle, heavier than iron. You haven’t gotten loose, but you’re starting to pull whatever is in the water out as you struggle.

The water burbles and the haze of panic begins to clear. This isn’t a story. Someone has just grabbed hold of you. They’re not trying to pull you in, they just want you to pull them out. Because they’re trapped. You suck down air, scrabbling at the hand wrapped around your ankle, trying to get them to grab hold of your wrist instead. Their skin is strange under your touch, hard and smooth and fragile, like flowers dipped in paraffin.

A head finally crests the water, a choking, wheezing noise filling the air as liquid cascades off of his body. His breath sounds wrong though, and his cheeks are hollowed, hair and skin stained with peat. He releases the death grip he has on your ankle, bony, wet fingers smacking against your arm so you can grab hold and pull. His other hand twists into the scrubby grass, ripping handfuls of it free as he does his best to work with your desperate bid to get him out of the bog. And then a few startling things happen all at once.

Your eyes drop to his throat and the wide, old injury spanning the entirety of his throat, stitched shut with a pale cord. His eyes snap open. An eerie light gleams in his eye sockets and you do shout this time, words tripping over themselves as you give up on holding him to try and yank yourself out of his grasp. Lightning quick flashes of the zombie stories and a variety of undead flicker through your mind. He’s too strong for you, you can't push him off, even with the wasted-looking muscles of his arms. He holds on terribly tight, knees and calves and feet splashing in the water and sliding through the slick scrub grass. You continue to try to get his hands off of you, breath coming far too fast, but he lets go as soon as he’s clear of the water. His hands fall away, clutching at your thigh for balance before he finally removes his hands from you entirely. He drops to the grass, retching, and then grabs at his own throat. The tie keeping his hair back crumbles, falling away like drying clay, and though most of his hair is still slick and dark with peat, it looks like it’s normally a bright coppery red underneath the muck.

He wheezes again, hands hovering over the injury, fingers feather soft over the strangely clean stitches. After a moment, he lifts his chin, spotlight eyes roving over your face with awe.

"..you..you answered?" He asks, voice warped by withered musculature. His stained cheeks stretch, a painfully tight smile exposing teeth that don't look altogether human. They're even, and clean, but they gleam with a deep blue patina, as if they’re actually polished stones. “I—I must conf-fess,” he rasps, hands falling to his knees, nails digging into the tattered trousers barely clinging to his body, ��I doubted. I..” He leans forward, gasping once more as he stares at the ground. “He answered,” he whispers, and his eyelashes flutter, the light of his eyes flickering. Despite his apparent frailness, despite his inattention, you can't bring yourself to run away now. You’re caught, the desire for knowledge outweighing the potential danger. “What would you ask of me?” He breathes, and your heart twists painfully in your chest. He sounds wretched, reverent and fearful, both, anxiously waiting for you to strike out.

"What would I ask?" You struggle to murmur, tongue thick and too-dry in your mouth. Slowly, you get up, rubbing awkwardly at your wrist and forearm. His grip had been a shade past 'uncomfortably tight', but you don’t think you’ll get anything more than faint bruising.

"In exchange," the man says, clutching tighter to his knees. He doesn't notice when you flinch, not with his head still bowed.

Your heartbeat nearly drowns out the distant thunder, adrenaline chasing the wariness out of your veins. "For what?" You demand, pleased when his head jerks up. He's acting like you're going to kick him back into the bog with a boot to his chest. "For saving you? Why would I want anything? I was just-" Your mouth snaps shut, brain desperately clamoring for you to acknowledge that there's a mummified man currently speaking to you. He’s talking, not groaning, not calling out for brains or blood or violence. He may as well be straight from the local legends and he’s… Fully conscious of his actions, nothing like the eerie embellishments all the tales carry.

"I was being decent. Helping. I didn't do it so you would owe me." Any further words slip your mind as soon as your eyes catch on the stitches in his neck again. The rest of him is withered and warped by the peat in the bog, permanently stained—but the stitches are still silvery pale. What on earth happened to make him this way?

Hesitant, he raises his head, the inhuman brightness of his eyes more than enough to make you wince. Your gaze darts to the soft glint of metal in his earlobes, trying to keep from squinting.

"For… For saving my village," he finally clarifies. "You accepted my sacrifice and allowed me the chance to speak, but surely I must complete some task to prove my faith? To win a boon and guarantee their survival?"

Thunder rattles your bones and the mummy tenses, looking past you to the sky. Nerves or not, you can’t stay out here in this, not if you want to escape the weather… Or the panic that will spread like wildfire if anyone happens to catch sight of him. You offer him your hand.

"You'll help me?" He asks, hand lifting from his knee, but not yet reaching for yours. Mist dots his cheeks, rain trying desperately to break free of the heavy cloud cover.

"Help? Yes. In the way you’re asking me to?” You can’t stop yourself from cringing, but that doesn’t seem to have deterred the bog mummy still kneeling in front of you. He’s still staring with rapt attention, caught on every word you speak. “I—I don't know if I have any answer you want, but I do know we shouldn’t stay out here in the rain." You take a single step closer, fingers splaying as you reach for him. He slips his hand into yours and the rain falls heavy upon your heads.

————-　🌠　————-

From what you’ve gathered from Hior on the trip back here, he has for all intents and purposes, traveled through time, via his death. You freeze in the doorway of the kitchen, mind whirling as you attempt to puzzle out whether he can eat or drink anything. He hasn’t needed to, not while he’s been in his enchanted… sleep down in the bog. But he’s actually dead, isn’t he? You hadn’t felt a pulse when he’d taken your hand, but you hadn’t been searching for one either, keen as you were on getting him out of the torrential rain and out of sight. He hasn’t asked for any food or drink, but your brain has seized onto hospitality like a lifeline. No matter what age Hior is from, sharing what you have is always appreciated.

Decision made, you fetch the glass, ears straining for any noise, for any hint of where he is in the house. He’s done nothing but stare at modernized gadgetry since you brought him in, taking the towel you’d offered as if he were in a dream, but he’s bound to get curious eventually. You move a little faster, though when you find him back in the living room, sitting straight backed on the edge of the couch, dampened towel around his shoulders, you feel rather silly. He just crawled out of a bog, knowing that he’d given his life for his village. Maybe he’s frightened? This can’t be like any afterlife he’d expected. “Would you like some water?” You ask, still unsure as to whether he can actually drink it or not. He’d been gasping for air when he’d broken free of the bog, but that might only be reflex, seeing as he is very much mummified.

Hior clambers to his feet, lamplight eyes skittering over your face and then down to the floor before he kneels, towel flaring out like a cloak. You pause where you are, fingers tightening around the glass in your hand, but your brain doesn’t catch up to what he’s trying to do until he speaks. “I must thank you for your hospitality. Truly. To be welcomed into the home of a God-”

You nearly spill the water, breath caught fast in your throat as you hurriedly urge him to get back to his feet, fingers brushing over his shoulder. “Ah, no, not—how about some water first?” Hior rises, the fine hairs of his eyebrows catching the light as he furrows them. They’re the same coppery red as the hair on his head and arms, and even on his legs when you take the time to glance down. “Here,” you mutter, slipping the glass into his hand as soon as his fingers uncurl. “If you don’t want it, or, or you can’t, then it’s fine. But, uh, I’m not a deity. Not a God. Just a man.” Like you, weighs down the tip of your tongue, but you clamp your jaws shut. You can’t honestly claim similarity, seeing as you still have blood flowing through your veins and your neck doesn’t have eerily clean stitches from ear to ear.

"A man," he repeats, but he doesn't sound like he believes you, "of course." Hior sniffs at the water, but he must not need it. He cradles the glass against his chest, water untouched and risks another sly glance at your face, waiting, as if he expects you to change your mind and confess to a different identity. Your brain buzzes, skipping over the hint he’s attempting to fish for.

“Those… It looks like that was a bad injury,” you murmur, gesturing to the neat stitches, a permanent, unsettling necklace. It doesn’t really help change the subject.

“Hmm,” he rumbles, reaching up a single hand. For a moment, he marvels at the sight of his own skin, turning his wrist this way and that before he finally ghosts his touch over the stitches. Hior doesn’t shy away from them, or even appear concerned, fingertip dipping between each rib of cord. “I’ve little idea how I came to possess these,” he confesses. “It wasn’t you?” You grimace, and Hior croaks out a laugh when he notices. Warmth blossoms in your chest, the sound of a real, genuine laugh soothing away some of your nerves. “No. I can see that now. And it wasn’t Mother Gree either,” he says softly, eyes lowering. “No one would have taken me from the water. The… the star?”

“Star?” The God you think I am? You want to ask, but the stiffness is easing from his limbs, memory returning, and you don’t want to interrupt. Frankly, you might be a little shell shocked yourself, but something about his question makes your brows furrow.

“It followed me into the water,” Hior adds, and your heart skips a beat, your own memories a cacophony in the back of your head. You’ve read something about that before, you’re certain of it.

“The star followed you?” You ask, clarifying. “Dove after you?”

For the first time, Hior isn’t staring past you or searching your face for any hint of divinity. A wry smile twists his lips, exposing the polished stones serving as his teeth. “From what I recall, yes. Of course, I was dying at the time,” he says quietly, humor in the arch of his eyebrows. “Perhaps I could not comprehend the visage of our Gods? They often take other shapes, so as not to cause alarm. Such as that of a man,” he says. He’s hinting again, gaze heavy on your face, but all you can think about is the phrase: the star followed me into the water, on repeat.

You lick your lips, darting past Hior for the stacks of books you’d left out this morning. “The Diving Stars,” you explain, pushing two volumes to the side and letting them fall to the floor with a clatter. You seize the elderly green book, whirling so you can brandish it in Hior’s direction. The title glitters, faintly golden but worn away by the passing years. “It’s a folktale, a legend, about… About you, I think.”

————-　🌠　————-

Hior never does drink the water. He sets it aside, fingertips lingering along the rim before you settle down on the floor, book laid open across your knees. He joins you, and as respectful as Hior has been up to this point, he sits close against your side, pressed against you from shoulder to hip so he can better see the pages. It’s intimate, and strange, and he’s… He’s not cold, not exactly, but the lack of human warmth is enough to have the fine hairs along your neck prickling with awareness. It only takes a moment before his attention drifts from the book to your face, staring at your mouth as you read the short tale aloud.

The Diving Stars

For the greater good of a war torn village, a sacrifice was made. A favored son was chosen, one beloved by the village, and kind to all he knew. He was strong, and clever, and though he was leaving behind his family, he knew he must act for the well being of all. When it came time for his sacrifice, he smiled and walked willingly to his ending, hoping that the Gods would accept his service and defend the village from invaders.

A God took notice.

You do your best not to lift your eyes from the text, heat spreading over the back of your neck when you realize how hard Hior is staring at you. You might keep trying to ignore his assumptions, but Hior isn’t going to let you forget about them completely. He still fully believes that you’re the deity from his tale.

Moved by his plight and coveting the favored son’s courage for his own hall, the God left his domain. He dove from the sky as a star, following the favored son into the depths and setting the entire blog ablaze with his magic. When the light faded, when the villagers uncovered their eyes, two men stood by the side of the water, the light of the stars in their eyes. One was the favored son, strange and withered, having sacrificed his vitality to the Gods. The other was the God who had accepted his bargain, and behind them, marching up out of the water, was a brigade of the village ancestors, led back from the underworld to help defend the home of their children.

When the battle was won, and the ancestors had marched back into the water, the favored son wished his people farewell. Lit up from within, the favored son and the God slipped back into the depths, and then two brilliant lights fountained up out of the water, diving back into the sky as stars.

When you lift your gaze away from the book, Hior’s eyes are still on you. They’ve grown even brighter than before, the shine of them sharp enough to make you wince. His hands, resting gently on his knees, are steadily curling into fists, and he’s smiling. Small and sweet and absolutely enchanted. “I knew it,” he whispers, voice tight and low, and then Hior yanks you by the neck of your shirt halfway into his lap, knocking the book completely out of your hands. He kisses you, in want or in gratitude, you’re not sure, the taste of rainwater and the chill of stone heavy on his lips. It’s… It’s not unpleasant at all, the kiss. His lips are smooth, and cool, and tingling, like the sharpness of static in the air, seeping through your skin and racing through your veins. When Hior finally allows you to wrench yourself away, lungs heaving as you attempt to remember how to breathe, all you can think about is the way he’s smiling, arousal pooling heavily in every limb.

“No matter what you might believe,” you mutter, trying to keep your thoughts in order, “I’m not a God. Not of any sort, Hior. I swear I’m not lying.” You lick your lips, the taste of rainwater still lingering on your skin. “Though, even if I don’t know how to help you yet?” You take his hand off of your arm, lacing your fingers with his. “We’re bound to find out together.”

————-　🌠　————-

#exophilia #mummy boyfriend #bog mummy boyfriend #undead x male reader #male mummy x male reader #d.darling writes #d.darling commissions

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horanghoe · 3 years

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SFW SEVENTEEN IMAGINE - DK AKA 'Lee Seokmin' DANCER!AU / IDOL!AU

GOT ME SMITTEN

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Back to ~ SVT Masterlist

A/N: Not me considering writing a DK fic and it's been two days since researching SVT 💀

Just shush and take this quick imagine 🤚🥺 okay, cause apparently, I want to give DK loads of little kithes as of like two minutes ago shh aksnsis

Ok scene:

DK works for Pledis entertainment. He is an IDOL

You are also someone who works with Pledis entertainment. but you're actually a professional dancer and someone who very much does not want to be in the public eye

The two of you met at a company drink event / celebratory evening and he quickly figured out that *you* were in fact the one who trained & worked with back up dancers!!

He could never see your face fully because of the mask 🥺 but he always thought you were so talented

But tbh let's be honest the masked face ain't the first place a male is gonna be looking with your tight gym wear/dance outfit on looking fly as heck ugm akdjdjdksksk I'm just saying what you're all thinking 😌🤚

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

I can see him honestly being somewhat quiet when around someone he admires, maybe flashing that bright smile and laughing airily, but generally ready to stop the world just to watch you gush about your day helping trainees

and his eyes are so soft stopp I'm akskxjxoxodpw

If you call him beautiful enough times after laughing I'm taking bets on him tearing up

You -"I love you"

him -"Hahaha cute. wait omg are you joking -"

you -"no I like actually love you Seokmin. Like genuinely "

him- "oh...*chokes in beautiful* are- are you sure? I mean, is that okay? 🥺"

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

Anyways akdjxksk

I'm not whipped shh

So imagine you're in the studio for waaaayyyy longer than you had expected

You had only arrived to tidy the prop cupboard and do admin stuff until you walked past a trainee group and saw them dancing so hard, bless their souls they looked so exhausted

You can't help but wonder in and ask them what's going on

Immediately they confess they're struggling with the bridge freestyle and the two main pieces just won't mesh no matter what style they try.... well that's what they think

So you stay oops like an extra 6 hours, having had basically nothing to do anyway

until you see Jeonghan wander past the wide dance hall doors. Starbucks in hand, sipping away as he takes the very obviously over-packed brown Starbucks paper bag up to the boys

They most likely took bets on who would be paying for today's break snacks and Jeonghan seemed to be the chosen one today

You wave him down after quickly saying your goodbyes to the trainees

You say your hellos and eventually, he takes you up to the small group of boys finishing up choreo to surprise them

(Not him distracting the staff on the upper floors with small talk and flattery so you can get past without being bothered & running after you with little giggles, only to whisper a small "You owe me Y/N" exchanged with a little wink and fist bump. You don't owe him he's just playing )

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Seokmin's face when you enter the room -

priceless Ugh oh my d a y s

I'm imagining a little { °▪︎°} expression tbh

I have the impression that he would squeal out of love after his small shock of seeing you run in

He's all like "Ahh!! Y/N! I thought you weren't training today beautiful?? How long have you been waiting?"

His heart rly does pitter-patter as you approach him

It may come off like he doesn't want you to approach - he may not even move, tbh boy is stuck in shock - but in reality, he's just anxious to see you

Your presence to him is something similar to snapping a lightstick after months of storage

because one minute you're at the door smiling

and the next you're running up and giving a quick squeeze of a hug, slapping his thigh (ass) and peppering hundreds of excited kithes all on his face <33

(Woozi is whining and would like you to stop)

Something tells meeeee that lovely Seokmin is nervously giggling, somewhere halfway between kissing you back and awkwardly trying to get out of your arms

hahaha, bless, like that's even a choice

Two thoughts: he's either making a lot of noise -

see: yelling, swinging you around, crying out your name and being giggly, singing loudly

- Hard OR, this man is d a z e d & abashed with love.

do you hear me?

Dazed I say, dizzy like he got some form of sudden heatstroke by being near your energy

also, I think he's just a shy kind of private lover

so maybe he just gives you ~ one small squeeze ~ and lets you go in front of his boys

but in reality, I think he'd be aching just to

Either way, you're out the door as fast as you got in. Lightyears before the backup dancers see you wandering around the level and start snitching to staff in the building

When you get home he'll be more than happy to return the kithes ~

Waking you up at 3am is all so worth it when all he wants is to lie on top of you and give you a tight hug ~ and kiss you right back <3

all over your beautiful lil cheeks, nose and eyelids

😌💕🫂

And hey some images for y'all who are in need of some of your own surprise kithes ~ take one you all deserve it 😌 free of charge bebe's heh heh

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

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moshpitsworld · 2 years

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I need help finding shoes!

Please help!

I'm like 15000% I did this wrong.

TL;DR I need help finding dress shoes for my fall wedding in October. Photo links at the bottom. But I highly recommend reading the entire list, mostly for the shit show that is my stream of consciousness but also for the full picture of what's going on. Budget (I know you all hate it) but cheaper is better $200 usd max

Prior to 2ish years ago being 400+ lbs (181 non freedom units (kgs)/28.5 super confusing measurement using garden decor (stone)) I wore a 13 6E in shoes. All shoes. I was unaware of the whole shoe sizing is kind of just a suggestion and no two shoes from any manufacturer are the same and DEFINITELY not the same across styles or uses.

I have since lost 140+ lbs (63kgs 10 stone) and had my foot professionally measured at new balance with computers and lasers! Come to find out in some new balance I'm actually an 11.5/12 4E.

What should have been like a 2 sentence post and is now way longer than it needed to be, and I'm sure will only be longer, I need help. Im pretty sure I used the Brannock device wrong, the width seems way off. I'm also a mechanic not a shoe salesman so I have no clue what I'm doing. The shoe size seems accurate but the width seems off.

My main concern with this post here is finding a pair of dress shoes that match my suit for my wedding (I made a post about it in the men's fashion subreddit....boy that did NOT go as I thought it would). I'd also like to find a way to reliably get athletic shoes that fit without spend $275 a pair AND boots for work that don't crush my feet. But first things first. Shoes for wedding.

As far as a budget, originally when planning the wedding the budget was one of those "oh yeah we should probably have one of those things", then things spiraled out of control when we went with the "we are only getting married once, instead of getting the top items, let's just go mid tier". Now I was hurt at work (2nd degree burns on my face, arm, chest, and shoulder) and because my employer is a bag of assholes they denied my workers compensation and temporary disability so now who knows where the budget stands (besides waaaayyyy behind). I'd say absolute max is $200 for shoes especially since I'll probably only wear them once. I'm not a fashionable guy and I rarely dress up.

Open to shoe color design and style suggestions. Also open to light criticism about how wrong I used the Brannock device.

https://imgur.com/a/op5KjKj foot size

https://imgur.com/a/aLVNfu2 suit and shoes I had considered before being told I was wrong

Thanks for any help!

Ben

submitted by /u/Obecny75 [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/Shoes/comments/v82lx8/i_need_help_finding_shoes/

#shoes

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musicislife1396 · 7 years

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So, I was planning to do a review post today. But I just really didn’t feel like being thoughtful and critical and all that. So as I was watching some Booktube in procrastination, I came across this tag. I saw Sam from Thoughts on Tomes do it, and I believe the original creator is Kirstin @ Kirstin Reads. Even though people sometimes OTPs from film and TV, I will only use book couples because otherwise, this will turn into a full blown dissertation on my ships.

Alright, here we go. Prepare for a lot of fangirling, ranting and so forth. This is going to be a long post. Grab some popcorn.

1. Pick an unpopular OTP that you ship

Hmm… I’m not sure how unpopular this is because it’s the Harry Potter fandom. I don’t think there is any ship that is unpopular in the Harry Potter fandom, but Snape and Lily Potter. I love Snape and I wanted him to be happy. And I understand that it wasn’t going to be a good relationship and I absolutely think that Lily did the right thing getting away because it was toxic. Although, I personally feel like she made a mistake giving up on him, not necessarily as a romantic interest, but as a friend. I strongly believe in not giving up on your friends. I will go to hell just to drag a friend out of there and I think that’s one of the most powerful kinds of love that is or should be the foundation of romantic relationships as well. And for all his faults, Snape had that loyalty, that unconditional love that cannot be explained by infatuation or attraction or fluffy romantic butterflies. That’s why some of my favourite OTPs are based on friendship.

I didn’t necessarily want them to be canon, but my heart still ships them together in a “What if” sort of way. And I also personally believe that, at least as far as we are shown, which might be biased because we only see Snape’s memories, but I don’t think James Potter was a good choice either. He was immature and an ass and we don’t see him growing out of that. So I really don’t care at all about that relationship.

Okay, that derailed. I feel very passionately about this. I have written longer essays than this on obscure, background Harry Potter stuff. But let’s move on now.

2. Pick an OTP that you didn’t ship at first but do now

I don’t really know what to say for this. I usually either ship a couple or I don’t. Well, sometimes I’m just indifferent. But I don’t think I’ve ever not shipped a couple and then shipped them. Actually, I have just not from books, so for this question I will pick a TV couple and that is Willow and Tara from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I did not like Tara at first at all. And I was a hardcore Willow/Oz shipper and I wanted them to get back together and I just did not like this ship at all. But then Tara really grew on me. And especially after re-watching the show. I still don’t really like her as a character in season 4. But I do like her in later seasons. My favourite Willow OTP is still her and Oz, but her and Tara are my second. I really, really hate everyone else that Willow is ever with. I can’t… just no.

3. Pick your most hated NOTP

BUFFY AND RILEY! Okay, I said I’m not doing TV shows, but I needed that out there. My most hated book NOTP… there are different ways I could look at this. I could tell you just an OTP that I hate because I hate the book and the characters. Or I could tell you an OTP that that I just don’t like them together. I’m going to do both, because I can’t decide.

An OTP that I just hate because I hate the book and the characters is Mare and prince whatever his name is. Cal, Cat, Cam. I don’t even remember. I absolutely hate Mare with a passion, if you’ve read my review of Glass Sword, you know how much I hate that book and Mare in particular. I don’t really have a problem with Cal. I just don’t care about him because he’s so one-dimensional and tropey and boring that I just don’t care.

And one OTP that I just don’t ship them together is Celaena Sardothien and Chaol from the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas.

Art by Linneart

I never particularly liked Chaol. I don’t hate him, but he’s a little bit too boring and self-righteous for my taste. But I really did not like him with Celaena. I literally ship her with anyone else more than I ship her with Chaol. Anyone. I got a really sibling-y vibe from them for some reason and I don’t… that’s just wrong. I can’t ship that. It doesn’t work for me. And I really think that their relationship was completely ruined by them being together. I think there was potential for a good friendship there, but it was completely ruined and that kind of annoys me.

4. Pick an OTP that took waaaayyyy too long to get together

I don’t have any such OTP. I quite enjoy slow-burn romances. I hate, hate, hate insta love and I actually really like relationships where the two partners grow together, grow to know and love each other. So I don’t have an answer for this.

5. Pick your favourite non-canon OTP

I don’t know… maybe Ruby and Clancy from The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken. I mean, not really. I like Clancy because he’s so clever and scheming. I don’t particularly care about Ruby though. I don’t know. I can’t think of any other answer though, so I’ll go with Ruby and Clancy.

6. Pick Your favourite BROTP

Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs from The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare. Forever. I just love them, they’re my babies. I love their friendship so much, I don’t even know how to explain my love for them, I just ugh! I love them. That scene in Clockwork Princess. If you’ve read the book, you know which one I’m talking about. When Will is on his way to… wherever he was going. It broke my heart. I cried so much just… I cried.

7. Pick an OTP you adored in the books but not as much in the movie or tv adaptation

Jace and Clary from The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare.

Art by Firelordwael

I love Clace. I am a very hardcore Clace shipper, but I did not really feel the relationship in either of the adaptations. I did not like Jace at all in the film, even though I loved Lily Collins as Clary. And in the show… I’ve yet to see season 2 of it. But I had a lot of problems with the first season of the show and the relationship between Clary and Jace was one of them. I didn’t feel it at all.

8. Pick a popular OTP that no matter how hard you tried you just can’t ship it

Dorian and Sorscha or whatever her name is from Heir of Fire by Sarah J. Mass. I can’t even find any nice fanart of them.

I’m always picking the same series, but I just really didn’t like this relationship. I know a lot of people did and were really upset by what happened, but I just didn’t really care. I was even a bit relieved, because it just rubbed me the wrong way. It felt like that relationship was used as a crutch and I don’t like that kind of relationship. I like relationships where the two partners make each other better. And that just wasn’t it.

It wasn’t a good, healthy relationship. They had nothing in common. Her crush on him felt like a celebrity crush and I felt like he was only with her because he was broken and lost and needed a crutch. And I think that a lover is never a good crutch. At least, not a new lover. Like, getting into a new relationship as a crutch… I don’t like that. I don’t agree with it, I cannot get behind it no matter how much I try.

9. Pick your favourite LGBT+ OTP

Hmmm… I’m gonna go with Alucard and Rhy from the Shades of Magic series by V. E. Schwab.

Art by Victoria Ying

I love this series. I love all the characters. I just, I love them. Nothing more to say.

10. Pick your al time favourite OTP/s

I mean, there are so many! I would say maybe Feyre and Rhys. My babies.

Art by Charlie Bowater

Some other ships I absolutely love are Kaz and Inej from Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo.

Art by projectnelm

Will and Tessa from The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare

Art by Taratjah

To name a few. I could go on and on naming OTPs and showing you pretty fanart, but this post is long enough as it is, so I will stop here.

Feel free to do this tag if you want to. Let me know some of your ships, let me know if you agree or disagree with some of the things I said.

OTP Book Tag So, I was planning to do a review post today. But I just really didn't feel like being thoughtful and critical and all that.

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borledtodeath · 8 years

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thoughts on recent developments

so, if anyone reads my tags at all, you'll notice that i haven't been a huge fan of the "mendel eats dirt" meme. personally, i didn't find it terribly funny, but i just left it alone, because who am i to shit on other people's fun, right?

well.

let me preface this by saying that i am not trying to tell anyone to stop making jokes or memes. i'm not telling you what to think is funny. these are thoughts that i have been having for a few days now, but recent events have made me decide to put in my two cents on the matter.

tumblr is a truly wild place. you can find others that share the same interests as you, no matter how bizarre or niche they may be. that being said, tumblr is also a strange place. people come up with their own jokes, headcanons, and ideas that can seem a little crazy to people unfamiliar with tumblr culture. i've been in this website for nearly five years- i can guarantee you i've seen some odd shit. the fact of the matter is this: not everyone understands tumblr jokes. not everyone gets how tumblr memes come to be, and not everyone finds them funny. if i were to share some of the things i've found funny on this website with my real life friends, i'd get some pretty strange looks. tumblr humor is often only understood by people familiar with this website in the first place.

"but why, sydney, is this important now?" you may ask. "surely everyone already know this!" ah, but this is where you may be mistaken.

today, while scrolling my twitter feed, i came across a tweet that genuinely shocked me. never had i thought that i would see sweet, 12-year old anthony rosenthal tweeting about this dirt joke that has taken the fandom by storm. how did he even know about it? to my knowledge, neither he nor the rest of the falsettos cast have a presence on tumblr! now, i've posted about when things in this fandom have gotten a bit out of hand before- what i saw today blew all those other times out of the fucking water.

what's my point, you may ask? yes, anthony rosenthal is a kid. yes, he probably find random shit like this hilarious. yes, he is an accessible broadway star who is more likely to actually see and reply to your post than many others. but here's the catch: he's not a tumblr user. he may be a kid, but we have no way of knowing whether or not he uses this god forsaken website, and therefore, we had no idea if he would think the joke was funny or not. and judging by his response to the multitudes of tweets regarding this meme, he didn't. stating that he was "clearly missing something" didn't really seem like he was shitting his pants from laughing so hard at the mental image of not only a character that no doubt means a lot to him, but also a coworker who he probably misses quite a bit, eating dirt. eating. dirt. why on earth would he think that that was funny? he has no reason to think it is! he has no context of the joke and hasn't been around for all the other weird shit the falsettos fandom has produced these past few months- did people really expect him to agree that it's hilarious?

i'm gonna reiterate something that was brought up a few weeks ago with the arrival of the bootleg: ACTORS ARE PEOPLE TOO. the cast of falsettos did not ask to be invited into our weird jokes. they don't have any clue that any of this has been going on. and i guarantee you they are feeling the loss of this show harder than any of us are- can you imagine performing such an intense musical over a hundred times? they are adjusting, like us all, to the fact that this show is no longer an active presence in their lives. however, i don't think they're doing it by discussing whether or not mendel eats dirt.

this has gotten waaaayyyy too long, and most of you probably disagree with me anyways, but let me just say this: actors are real people, with real lives, thoughts, everything. they are not untouchable entities for us to place on a pedestal and yell shit at: they can be made uncomfortable. they can get weirded out. judging from some things i've seen across the run of the show, they likely already have. but here's the point: keep your odd, niche jokes amongst yourselves. post about them in tumblr, start a group chat with your friends about them, fucking eat dirt if you feel so inclined- just don't bring actors into this. let them grieve the loss of the show without having to wonder if mendel eats dirt or whatever the next weird thing is gonna be. don't use the excuse of "we miss the show and are trying to keep it alive!"- i guarantee you these people are missing it more than you.

this is long, overdramatic (for effect), and wordy, but this has been stewing for a while and i needed to say something about it. i'm not gonna answer any asks about this, i won't respond to any replies or messages about it either- i've said what i want to say and i'm leaving it at that. for now, i'm gonna avoid the falsettos tag indefinitely, hopefully until this all blows over. i would still love to talk about the show, the actors, the cube, your headcanons, anything you want- but i wanted to make sure my stance on this was known. if you don't agree with me, unfollow me. i'm done talking about this.

#falsettos #sorry if you don't like this but w/e #long post

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thunderoad · 8 years

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Congrats on the tickets! I recently got into U2 (a few decades late but anyway hahaha) but I mostly know the singles, do you mind recommending me more songs by them? I trust your music taste! ;)

thank u so much!! sorry this is so late, i was gonna just rattle off a few of my favs but then it was like i can’t NOT talk about this song or that, so here we are.

the earliest of their albums i really jam with is war. that’s the album where i feel like bono’s songwriting skills evolved from “bongolese” into good, punchy stuff, like ‘sunday bloody sunday’ and ‘new year’s day.’ ‘seconds,’ ‘surrender,’ and ‘two hearts beat as one’ are also some of my top top fav u2 songs. big, echoey stuff, sort of visceral and very much from the heart.

the unforgettable fire is such a great album and such a good bridge between their first three albums and the joshua tree and everything that came after. they got really personal again on this one. ‘a sort of homecoming’ carries a lot of the same tonal stuff as ‘i still haven’t found,’ ‘pride (in the name of love)’, and ‘mlk’ are both obviously very politically-minded, and the titular track just shows off edge’s shimmery guitar so, so good. and of course ‘bad,’ i love the way that one reaches back to war and their early stuff and then breaks out with this shattering cry of ‘i’m wide awake!’ it’s a song about heroin addiction in dublin, but i think you can make the argument that it’s also about waking up to the political horrors all too prevalent in our society. it doesn’t really outline what steps to take, but it signifies this big moment to me of waking up and not self-anesthetizing yourself anymore: ‘i’m not sleeping.’ it’s another one of those songs i feel like belongs in a series across several albums.

then of course there’s joshua tree. i love this album although i don’t quite think it’s my favorite. in a thematic sense, it’s all the stuff i love: americana, folk rock, and springsteen; it also attempts to confront some of the issues springsteen writes about. chiefly the album considers the chasm between the idealized america as the promised land, and the real america, which is not so different from the streets of dublin. it’s got a lot of the imagery that i love most from u2, though: barren places, empty spaces, widen open skies, a horizon spread out farther than the eye can see, and cloudless sunny days. it also opens up full throttle this idea of the quest, or a search, as with ‘i still haven’t found what i’m looking for,’ ‘where the streets have no name,’ ‘in god’s country,’ and ‘running to stand still’ all signify to some extent or another the search for spiritual or religious satisfaction. that’s one of my favorite things about u2; somewhere in that book they wrote they talk about this album, and i think it’s bono who says, ‘it’s not so much about being lost and suddenly, one day, being found, as it is about being lost, and then a little less so, and a little less so, and a little less so.’ it just seems a much more realistic goal.

(the only thing i really liked from rattle and hum was ‘all i want is you’ tbh.)

achtung baby came after u2 ‘going away to dream it all up again,’ and i loved ‘one,’ ‘who’s gonna ride your wild horses,’ and ‘even better than the real thing.’ this record modifies edge’s guitar a lot more than in the past, so it’s not my fave in that sense, but you have to appreciate how absolutely over-the-top they went with the reality tv/commercialistic aspects of their stage production after the hard-fought earnestness of the joshua tree. i think they thought they couldn’t be that earnest and write songs that were just as incisive, so they came at it from the opposite point of view and instead wrote songs that went over the top just to show how insane sensationalized media coverage and the total immersion of pop culture is in our lives. that said, ‘one,’ the song about how much they as a band need each other, is still my fav.

bruce springsteen has this great bit in his autobiography about u2, that they were one of the few rock acts left who would go all-in, every time. that’s what zooropa feels like to me, and having come to that end, realizing they were going to turn it all around again someday. ‘zooropa,’ ‘stay (faraway, so close),’ and ‘some days are better than others’ are my favorites from this one. tongue in cheek, outright mocking the bad days and quietly (even unstatedly) assuring us that better days are coming. i love these songs. at the tail end of this part of their careers, pop had ‘if god will send his angels,’ ‘staring at the sun,’ and ‘wake up dead man,’ which feel - strangely enough - like hyped-up versions of war songs.

my personal favorite u2 album, all that you can’t leave behind, has ‘beautiful day,’ ‘stuck in a moment you can’t get out of,’ ‘walk on,’ ‘kite,’ and ‘when i look at the world.’ larry mullen jr talks about this one and how he prefers it to their next album by commenting that how to dismantle an atomic bomb just doesn’t have the single, strong emotional thread running through it that this album does, and i 100% feel that’s true. these are all songs about growing up and letting go, whether that’s in order to feel happiness (beautiful day), freedom (stuck in a moment), love returned (walk on and kite), or hope (when i look at the world). i love, love this album.

how to dismantle has a TON of great tunes, too. ‘vertigo,’ ‘miracle drug,’ ‘sometimes you can’t make it on your own,’ ‘city of blinding lights’, ‘all because of you,’ ‘one step closer,’ and ‘original of the species’ all have their roots in very personal u2 stories, chiefly involving sickness, medicine, and wellness. bono’s dad died - that’s ‘sometimes you can’t make it’; edge’s daughter got sick - that’s ‘original of the species’; ‘miracle drug’ was about someone bono heard of. he’d been paralyzed, i think, his whole life, and his mother took care of him, and one day they brought out those screens that let people type out messages by moving their eyes, and poetry started pouring out of this guy after all those years of being pent up in his own mind. ‘one step closer’ is about how death takes you one step closer to knowing God, if that’s what you believe in, or maybe just the mysteries of the universe. it’s a big deep sprawling album but i get what larry means that it’s not quite as emotionally cohesive; it explores without quite mapping out the edges of the territory. (still great, though.)

and...to be honest, i haven’t liked anything very much from their last two albums. it feels a little like they’re going far off book again, like they did with the albums after the joshua tree before they reined it back in. experimentation is one of u2′s calling cards but to be honest, i hope they go back to their roots soon, sound-wise if nothing else. i miss edge’s jangling guitar and adam’s bass.

ANYWAY, i realize this is probably waaaayyyy longer than anyone wanted, but thank u for letting me talk about u2!!! i love this band so much

#u2 #about me #lol #anon

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fandomshatelgbtqpeople · 6 years

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(1) I'm sorry for this long ask but I'm looking for advice and I really love your blog. I grew up with parents with conservative views and I would uncomfortably agree with everything they say. They would both always pressure me to be “feminine”. So much so, that I just give in. My mom would even give me future marriage/motherhood advice even though I was still a teen. I just sit there silently and wait for her to finish. Now that I'm away from home, I'm learning more about the LGBTQ+ community.

2) I’ve learned that being queer is not as simple as being gay or transsexual. It’s a lot more complex than that and that there are more orientations that people still need to be educated about. Lately I’ve been a little braver with my parents talking about LGBTQ+ rights. It hurt that they would give me the “well you have your opinion and I have mine” defense. But in time, their viewpoints start to change. They would read posts and letters from the LGBTQ+ community and are now in support of

(3) their rights. They even went so far to apologize for how they raised me. It’s been easier to talk to them now. But as I learned more about LGBTQ+ rights, I’ve also been learning more about myself. I would think back at certain situations as a kid and thought “is it because I’m ____ that I thought that way” or “is it because I’m ____ that I was interested or not interested in this person”. There’s actually a show I love where I would replay scenes of a character having revelations of their

(4) orientation over and over again and still give them my undivided attention. I guess what I’m asking is, am I thinking too hard and too much? I believe I know my orientation, but I still want to learn more. Is it because that I didn’t grow up learning all these info about LGBTQ+ that I’m not sure about my own orientation? That I refused to learn about them as a kid because I was afraid what my parents would think of me? That it didn’t take until the beginnings of my adulthood to come to grips

(5) about myself? It seems that even people who came out knew who they were even when they were in the closet. Should I just finally accept it, in my mind, if though I don’t feel comfortable to say it out loud? I mean, I can’t even admit it anonymously. Is it weird that I’m projecting myself on one single fictional character? I’m sorry if I’m bugging you. What I love most about your blog is how intersectional you guys are. I hear that there’s discrimination even among different orientations. The

(6) racism sadly isn’t surprising. It’s hard enough being Asian, but to also be queer. Also, I want my parents to be the first people that I come out to. But at the same time, I’m scared, even if they are getting better. I’m an adult, and yet my parents still frightens me. Should I just stop caring what they would think of me?

Hey there, Nonny. How are you doing today? Thank you for coming to us with how you feel. It mustn’t have been easy, but I want you know that we’ve got your back! There seems to be a lot on your mind, so I hope you don’t mind if my reply’s a lengthy one.

Firstly, I’m very touched reading through your messages, because as a fellow queer Asian person living in a strict, conservative household myself, a lot of the things you mentioned really hit home for me. I hope what I have to say will be able to help you out, or at the very least comfort you, one way or another.

Am I thinking too hard and too much? I believe I know my orientation, but I still want to learn more. Is it because that I didn’t grow up learning all these info about LGBTQ+ that I’m not sure about my own orientation? That I refused to learn about them as a kid because I was afraid what my parents would think of me? That it didn’t take until the beginnings of my adulthood to come to grips about myself?

I think the thing about identities is that it’s a personal journey for everyone. How one feel about themselves and their identities can vary between people, as well as the ways of figuring out the details. Some have very deep thoughts and researches to how they identify, even if they’ve spent years learning about themselves or not, others consider them to be something natural to who they are from the get-go, and so on.

It’s not your fault for not having everything figured out, nor is it something wrong. Plenty of queer adults only know that they’re queer when they’re much older, some didn’t even know until they’re senior citizens. “Knowing you’re queer” tends to be trivialized as this thing known from ages as young as early teenage years, when in fact, learning about the LGBTQ+ community is probably a luxury to many of us out there, especially among communities of color (due to the awful stigmas they have regarding non-cishet people). Many aren’t even allowed to think about the possibilities of them being anything more than Cisgender Heterosexual. While it’s sad, it’s the reality. Late beginnings of self-discovery are worth acknowledging and sympathizing, and they’re completely okay. Confusions and doubts are a natural part of everyone’s journey. They’re a telling that you need to have more patience with yourself. Don’t pressure things too much.

I’m happy for you, Nonny, that you’re making an attempt to know more about who you are. There’s never a thing called “thinking too hard and too much” when it comes to it (along with how you ID, your comfort with labels and self-presentations, etc.), because understanding helps you to connect with yourself better, and love yourself. I don’t think anyone ever really “stops” learning about themselves, even when they’re already sure of how they ID from early on. Identities have a lot of personal layers to them that only you can figure out for yourself, so it doesn’t matter if your own journey is longer, more elaborated, more complicated. Your experience is your own uniqueness. There’s no need for comparisons or set standards.

It seems that even people who came out knew who they were even when they were in the closet. Should I just finally accept it, in my mind, if though I don’t feel comfortable to say it out loud?

This one, I’d say, is up to you. Self-acceptance is a difficult thing, I can empathize, so whether you end up accepting yourself or not, no one can police you on that. It’s all up to how YOUR comfort, YOUR safety, and that’s more important than anything.It’s okay if you don’t want to say who you are out loud. If you’re queer, you always belong to the LGBTQ+ community, no matter if you’re open or reserved about it. Give yourself more time, and relax. It’s going to be okay.

I mean, I can’t even admit it anonymously. Is it weird that I’m projecting myself on one single fictional character?

The interesting thing about fictional characters is how much we’d connect to them, even if our initial idea is just to enjoy a fictional person in a fictional story. This is why good representations of marginalized groups are so important! It’s a natural thing to deeply relate to s fictional character, especially when you’re in a place where you feel like you don’t belong. Heck, it’s even how a lot of people started to feel that maybe they might not be as Cishet as they thought. Fiction reflects reality to certain levels, ergo it affects reality. Many takes comfort in the characters they love. If that makes you happy, then go for it!

Also, I want my parents to be the first people that I come out to. But at the same time, I’m scared, even if they are getting better. I’m an adult, and yet my parents still frightens me. Should I just stop caring what they would think of me?

It’s nothing strange to be afraid of how your parents/family would react to you coming out, not to mention when they’re the people who had made such a tough environment for you to truly embrace yourself without fear. The Asian community has never been all that swell with the idea of queer people. Among us there are still so many conservatives, traditionalists and just overall bigots.You’re an adult and you’re still frightened of your parents, that’s honestly understandable. Our parents are the people we’ve always been relying on so much, and they’re the ones determining what we should and shouldn’t do, even how we should and shouldn’t feel about things. It’s suffocating. It’s exactly the reason why we’re so afraid of them in the first place - because they didn’t allow us to be who we are, or feel about certain things for ourselves, we’ve come to fear that the slightest difference in our own agency which doesn’t align to theirs are wrong, and should be shamed, even when it’s completely normal, hell, even when it’s the right mindset to have.

Saying this might sound a bit confusing, but I think whether you should stop caring about your parents’ opinions or not is also up to you. This includes the magnitude of impact your family has on your life, and whether or not you’ll be safe. Safety is always the most important thing. If you’re in a place where you can take care of yourself (even in the worst case scenario), then if you want to come out, you can always help them to open up to that idea more before you make the announcement. If your situation is that you can’t separate yourself from your family during the worst case scenario, then it’s better to not go for it, or if the situation is allowed to get better, you can always wait some more. There’s really no rush. You can’t imagine just how much time can make a difference in people’s thoughts.

It’s important to know that coming out is NOT a necessity. You don’t owe it to anyone. Your IDs are your own, and whether you want to share them is your own rights to do. Don’t feel guilty if you can’t come out right now, or even end up not coming out. Your well-being always comes first.

I hope things will work out well for you, Nonny, no matter what you choose to do. Take care of yourself, and take heart. We always have your back

~Mod H(ave waaaayyyy too many thoughts about this)

#ask #anonymous #mod h #queer topics #pqoc #long text

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