thoughts-of-a-trying-tree - Tumblr blog

[thoughts-of-a-trying-tree]

HEY EVERYPONY COPPER TULAN IS ON SPOTIFY FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT<33333333

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so i know i said my waltz was done but i was the guard who lies. heres the ACTUAL complete waltz as it will appear on all music streaming platforms

enjoy :]

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I FINISHED THE WALTZ

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sometimes a song is just some words and noises bound by panic and sheer nerve :]

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PLEASE IM A STAR

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yall kinda suck fr. everyone on this site has said already that likes to nothing in some way shape or form so its not that you dont know, but that youre just ignoring it? like i cant think of any way that youve NEVER seen a post like that, given most of yall are not new. if you havent heard LIKES DO NOTHING!

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Love this post by @microsff

You went to a garage sale to see what you could find. You had been working on so many projects that you were hoping to get parts for cheap, when you saw an Andrew the Android. He was sitting on a table, swinging his feel that barely scraped the ground. He was an early version. It was easy to tell by his stocky build, and the way he barely looked humanoid. Newer ones looked more human.

“How much is he?” you asked the man sitting by a lock box, pointing to Andrew.

“You don’t want that one,” the man grinned, showing off all his teeth in a way that made you frown. “It’s a weird one. Sent it up to clean my gutters in a storm, you know, testing out that ‘waterproof’ feature.”

“Uh-huh,” you said unsurely, shifting on your feet slightly.

“And it got struck by lightening. Been odd ever since. Telling me to call it ‘Andy’ and asking me questions. Didn’t think these ones of them were meant to be so annoyingly human.”

“I still want him. How much?” you insisted.

You and the man go back and forth for a bit before you finally handed him a small wad of cash. A giddy feeling fluttered in your chest as you approached him. He looked up at you, a blank look on his expressionless face.

“Hi there. I’m Y/N. I just bought you,” you explained as you offered him your hand. “I’m so excited that I found an early Andrew. You’re one of my favorite androids of all time.”

“Andy, please,” was his response. He held up his hands, no, claws, as if to apologize for not shaking yours. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You brought him home, and he settled in quickly. One day, he greeted you at the door.

“Can you make me hands?” he asked.

“Why? Your claws work better, and you can swap them out with other attachments,” you asked back as you started gathering things for the project you were working on.

“I want to pet your cat.”

“You can’t even feel her fur though.”

“But she can. And I want her to like me petting her.”

You paused, thinking for a moment. “Alright. I can build you hands.”

“I also want to learn guitar. Can you make sure I have good fingers?”

That made a grin crack your face. “Yes, I’ll make you good fingers.”

You two lived in good harmony for awhile, until one day, he showed you a book. “Why is one character being called ‘they’?”

“Oh, because they’re non-binary.”

He nodded as he went back to the book. “I think that fits me better than he.”

You nodded back at them, scrolling through your phone. “Okay.”

Another day, they come to you, holding a book with a picture of a flute. “Can you build me a mouth? And move my port?”

“You want to learn to play the flute?” you asked curiously, looking at the book, their fingers curling around the pages.

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

They took to the flute much better than the guitar, but you don’t say anything. Even when they wake you up in the middle of the night. They’re still not very good, but you enjoy hearing their progress.

Yet again, they come to you, showing you a magazine with synthetic skin and hair on an android. They don’t say anything as they hand it to you, looking down.

“Okay. I’ll take you in and let you pick everything out,” you say as you hand them back the magazine.

“Do you think I’ll really be able to feel?” they asked nervously, rolling the magazine up into a tube.

“Maybe. Why?”

They looked away, and you thought if they were human, they would have blushed. “I want to pet your cat.”

“You pet her all the time.”

“I want to be able to feel it too.”

As always, you nodded. “It’s worth a shot at least then, right?”

Andy went in many times for many more modifications on top of the ones they asked you to make for them. Over the span of months, but in a way that hit you all at once, you fell in love with them. The way they laughed. How excited they were to learn. How excited they were to just be.

“Hey, Y/N! Andy! Welcome in yous guys. I got the room set up. Andy’s got a surprise for you, Y/N. You’re gonna let Andy pick out everything as always, yeah?” the mechanic greeted the two of you as you stepped inside.

You thought it was a little odd she just kept saying “Andy” instead of “they” but you brushed it off. “Yeah Sal. It’s Andy’s body. They can do what they want.”

Andy and Sal shared a grin before you were ushered into the waiting room. A couple hours later, a dark haired woman came out, her hair styled into a neat bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were green, your favorite color. There was a softness to her face and features, as well as a stockiness to her build. She reminded you of Andy, in a way, so you returned her smile.

Sal came up behind you, gesturing to the woman. “What do you think?”

“Oh she’s lovely, perfectly stunning, but you know I’m just waiting on Andy,” you said with a frown and furrow of your brows.

“Hi Y/N,” the woman said shyly, looking down at her feet.

“Andy?”

“I mean, I guess, but I want a new name.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

You tilted your head, looking at her curiously. “But you already know every name that there is to know.”

A sweet smile touched her lips as she walked over to you, taking your hands in hers. “I don’t know how they sound when you say them yet.”

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alright, you can have the opening to my current novel. as a treat for all of us

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Call for Beta Readers!! Please boost this post!

💕 Queer contemporary romance 💕

I have a novel (where the romance happens) and a prequel novella (where they're kids and the romance doesn't quite happen) and I'm seeking beta readers for both. I'm planning to publish the novel first, but wrote them with the intent that they could be read in either order so it's up to the beta which order they'd like to read them in, or if they only want to beta one.

Red, like my bleeding heart in your hand - 25k - Nash has enough to worry about with an abusive father at home and a little sister to keep out of harm's way, but when a boy his age, Teddy, moves in next door he finds it impossible to stay away even though he really, really should.

Warning for child abuse - mostly referenced

Blue, like don't forget about me - 60k - Twenty years later, Nash reconnects with Teddy at a funeral of all places. With grief, hurt feelings, and broken promises on both sides--they've got no business trying this thing again... and yet...

Warnings for: references to past child abuse, one (1) sexy scene, several references and innuendoes to sex that happens between scenes, and funerals (there are like,,,,an improbable number of funerals for this fluffy little romance idk man)

INTERESTING STUFF:

Ambulatory cane user, undiagnosed autistic MC

Jewish, POC, asthmatic, dietary nightmare love interest

Small town Appalachian setting

Aro/Ace side character

MC works at a nursing home and is besties with all the old folks

I'm thinking two months turnaround if you're reading both, but am super flexible on timing. Mostly I'm looking for reactions to what you're reading: what hits right, what doesn't, what's missing. I'm especially interested in perspectives from anyone who can relate to one or more of the traits listed above!

If you're interested, let me know how you'd like to connect and share files (email, discord, etc.) and thanks for reading this far!

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hahaaa. ah.

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here is my song 🤲🏻 this is just a taste of what’s to come. it’s basically a demo bc i do not have professional recording skills or equipment but that’s ok bc it is about the feeling.

this is the song that inspired me to make an album (it is the title track). it basically works to introduce me as a songwriter and a person. it is the first song on the album, and the first song i have ever released. it’s the beginning, the opener, the introduction. this is me on display. i hope you enjoy, thanks for listening <3

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your mom freaked out

@the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see of course I don't mind! You do have to share with some folks though lol

If you're familiar with my Freak Out Verse then you can tell by the title alone that this is part of it lmao And you would also know Harley has basically the best life ever. Everything he wants and everything he could ever want is stretched out in front of him. And that’s why it’s complete dog shit that he’s the one that gets blasted with unstable temporal waves in Peter and Tony’s morally ambiguous lab experiment gone very very wrong.

This is my Harley-centric time travel fic! Where Harley gets to go back in time and meet Uncle Ben!!! Isn't that so fun and not sad at all?

I've shared excerpts here and here.

honestly I should just post the whole 6.4k that I have on ao3 to give me the kick in the pants I need to keep going with it...

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we were gods (we were kids)

@arionawrites @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see

OKAY SO

This one has been on a convoluted journey. This was my original parkner fic idea that I tried to file the serial numbers off of and turn it into an original work (Blue like don't forget about me) which went terribly bc I hung onto a few plot elements that make NO SENSE outside of marvel's batshit mcu.

SO

We Were Gods (we were kids) is back to being a parkner fic. And I have like 100k written for it but the character names are wrong and slightly to the left of in-character and the beginning and end need to be rewritten. It's my Childhood friends to estranged almost-lovers to rivals to Best Friends (remix edition) to lovers but for real this time epic.

You'll get the gooey heart-eyes best friendship that toes the line of something more in the beginning (childhood friends), and then Peter moves away from Rose Hill to NYC and we jump to the teen years where Plot™ happens (estranged almost-lovers). Peter gets his spidey powers and flubs them so hard he causes the blip which vanishes Abbie out of Harley's life and leaves him alone. Alone Harley™ makes Bad Desperate Choices™ which leads to him getting entrenched with Hydra which means when the blip gets unblipped, he's on Spider-Man's shit list (rivals).

it's all very fun for me and very not fun for the boys ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Have some character notes!

Harley was born with the burden of responsibility on his shoulders—or rather he was handed it in a swathe of pink blanket when he was two. He stopped trying to buck it off when he realized his baby sister wasn’t going anywhere and having a new baby in the house made Daddy worse, not better. He resigned himself to living with it, protecting it. Soon enough, he can’t remember a time before the burden, he can hardly tell where he ends and the burden begins. Couldn’t put it down even if he wanted. Peter had responsibility dropped in his lap as a teenager—unrequested and unexpected. He tries to carry it with grace and dignity but it’s too big. He stumbles doggedly onward with buckled knees until it overwhelms him and he falls. Fails. Fails the entire planet. When he comes back that failure sticks with him as he fights not to squander his second chance to put an end to this mess.

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yo sara i gotta know more baout we were gods fic and also robot apocalypse dream sounds very much intriguing and i would also like to formally request info about that if u would like to share o7

@the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see WEEE thank you both!!

I got some duplicates so I'll respond to robot apocalypse dream here and then talk about We Were Gods (we were kids) in a different answer and tag both of you (∩^o^)⊃━☆

Robot Apocalypse Dream was an actual dream I had lol I don't usually have story-like dreams so it was pretty cool just to have it and then I couldn't stop thinking about what a cool story it would make.

In-dream me was part of a family where dad was dead, mom was adrift, very lonely, and super into following fads and trends. My in-dream sister was a scientist. No people skills. Envious of machines. All about that “no maintenance” lifestyle. Eating, bathing, sleeping—who has the time??? And she sees how badly mom is hurting after losing dad. Wouldn’t it be nice to just… cut out that little bit of gray matter that makes it hurt so much?

Here is a rough snippet!

There’s a robot in the center of the room. Hovering. It has four arms--harsh steel, with pincers at the ends corrugated for griping. It speaks with my mother’s voice. It says things I've heard her say before. I can’t tell if it is quoting her--an imitation of the real thing--or if my sister has done something horrible. “Where's mom?” “I’m right here, silly,” says the robot. It flits around the space like it’s comfortable here. Like it belongs here, surrounded by my mother’s things. “What did you do?” She killed our mother. She explains it to me as though it was not murder. As though it was not a heinous thing to generate a code based on our mother’s consciousness and transfer it into this dithering contraption. When I ask after the body she tells me it was disposed of, no longer necessary, as though a human being must be “necessary” to be allowed life. As though this thing paraphrasing my mother is a desirable replacement. It’s not my mother. When I hug it in a desperate attempt to leach comfort from its motor-warmed metal, it asks why I'm restraining it. The more I converse with the thing that is not my mother, the more I learn of what my sister did. It thinks machines are a new fad. It assures me it's at the front of the trend for now, but sister promised before long the entire city will be following it's example. I ask if it remembers that time, years ago, when my mother fell down the stairs. It was an ordeal. She broke her leg and spent four months on a scooter. It remembers… at first. It recalls the incident, but quickly grows confused. How could it fall when it has stability thrusters and hover tech? There must be a malfunction with its recall ability because it doesn’t even have lower appendages to break! It logs the incident with some central computer program before I can say anything to stop it and the memory is wiped entirely within seconds. My sister thanks me for spotting the error and asks if I would keep the thing that is not my mother company and identify any further oversights. She admits most of her attention was on erasing my father so small things like having legs were missed in the conversion process. “You ship of theseus-ed our fucking mother.” “I don’t know what that means.” “If you did we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

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could you write a ditzy!reader with tasm peter parker -- i have a vision of them bickering and reader just saying incredibly wrong things (ala getting things confused with each other, not flat out lies) while effortlessly beating whoever theyre fighting

“You always make this look much more difficult than it is, Spider-Man!” you call.

Peter is a little busy getting his head smashed into a wall to answer you. “Fuck! Hey, man, are you trying to graduate from robber to murderer? ‘Cos you’re getting there,” he says, shooting the front of a web into the robber’s face before ducking under his arm and quickly climbing up the opposite wall. He smacks the end of the web into the buildings  and lets the guy hand there two feet off the ground, dropping down to poke at his dangling feet. “Or you could be a life-sized Christmas decoration. This is way cooler.” 

“He’s not a robber, Spider-Man,” you say. He’s surprised you don’t call him Peter, honestly. “He’s a cat burglar. They’re different.” 

“He’s not a cat burglar, he didn’t go into anyone’s house. What are you doing?” 

You’ve strung the robber’s accomplice up like a fly in a spider's web. You’re giggling as you drop down beside him, the sound only so slightly muffled by your spandex mask. “He looks tasty.” 

A honk echoes from the mouth of the alley, then a screech of tires. Peter heard a cry of, “Hey, my purse!” and then, predictably, the approach of hurried footsteps. 

“Good day for robbers,” you say conversationally. 

“Bad day for old ladies. Do you have the purse?” 

You turn to him to show the purse already slung over your shoulder, the body bumping against your hip. “It suits me, right? Hey, did you know purses keep getting bigger because women have to carry more stuff? Soon, my purse will be the size of my car.” 

“You don’t have a car. And that’s not true, purses come in a hundred different sizes.” Peter gently pushed your chest back to get a clean shot at the approaching robber. He webs him at the feet, and smirks to himself as the newcomer immediately topples forward, the stolen purse flying from his hands. “Watch your step.” 

“Delivery!” you laugh, grabbing the bag off of the ground. “Hey, we should make these guys pay for the bags, considering they’re all scuffed up and broken now. What do you think?” you ask the robber stuck to the floor, who’s now lamenting a potentially broken nose. “Aw, Spider-Man, look what you did.”

“Walk it off,” Peter advises, taking you by the shoulders to lead you out of the alleyway. He’s too tired to deal with these idiots today. “It was in the name of justice.” 

“I heard that a broken nose takes up to five months to heal. What justice is that?” 

“That’s not true.” 

“It is. I saw it on the history channel.” 

“The same channel that thinks aliens built the pyramids?” 

“Everyone’s wrong about something.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ll keep it in mind. Now where did that old lady go?” 

“There’s a Pilates studio down the street. Old people love that stuff.” 

“No, they don’t.” Peter looks at you with concern. You keep on walking, unaware of his looking nor his judgement as you emerge from the alley into the New York City hub. Peter jogs to catch up, slipping an arm between yours to anchor you to him as he says, “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.” 

“That’s mildly insulting. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” 

Peter can’t kiss you with the masks. He would, though. A smacker of a kiss pressed unabashed into your cheek. “You really think old people like Pilates?”

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Please forgive my absolutely lazy photography but I did it!!

ole girl's got some capital Q quirks but she's ready to be shelved!

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everyone talks about "real or not real" no one talks about prim telling peeta "what youre saying isnt real" and peeta immediately latching onto that and thinking katniss sent prim to trick him and trying to protect her from katniss