#god this year has been an acid trip

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

You Left & I Didn't Wait. - LN

Summary: Lando planned his winter break as one long boys' trip. Y/n and Lando weren't official or serious. So she didn't feel she had any right to comment. But when Lando feels jealousy hit him like a punch to the gut, maybe he has some grovelling to do.

Warnings: Some slut-shaming from and to both Lando and y/n. Reckless drinking leading to alcohol poisoning (drink responsibility kids, but also don't drink until your countries legal age bc I don't condone law breaking)

Admittedly it really sort of stung when Lando was telling y/n about his plans for his winter break and he seemed to have planned to not see her at all. But she had to remind herself of the reality.

What her and Lando had was better duped as a "situationship" as much as she despises that entire concept.

God does dating in this age suck. Fuck everyone who moved dating online.

Y/n thankfully had her girls who all supported her through being strong and single through the holidays (aka the worst time to be single because family won't ever shut up about it) and then after New Year, y/n decided to get out on the prowl.

Sure she really let the most eligible young F1 driver slip from her grasp. But it's a new year.

"God you look so gorgeous." Y/f/n states then looking over y/n's shoulder. "And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Get on this counter. We're about to let a man do a body shot off of you."

Now if y/n hadn't consumed the equivalent of near a whole bottle of vodka and could actually see straight, then she might just have said no. But that wasn't the case, there's probably more vodka in her than blood and the room has been a blur in front of her since they flirted their way into the club since the bouncer was telling them to go home.

"Hey! Hey! Can you help my friend up? We're doing body shots." Y/f/n shouts to the guy that has been watching y/n from across the bar.

Y/n wouldn't be surprised if he actually was watching because he has a bet of which one of the women will either pass out or get themselves kicked out first. Body shots could well and true be the final pull of the trigger for either of those outcomes.

Y/n isn't really sure what sequence of events follow other than y/f/n taking a video of a man licking up from dangerous low on her tummy then slurping the tequila from her belly button. Whether it's the sensation of liquid being sucked from her very liquid heavy tummy or the sudden realisation she has no attraction to this man, but her stomach revolts in protest.

Another blur and she's having her hair held back as she kneels in front of the dingy club toilets. Even the high end expensive club toilets aren't fun to have your face close to. But that's where she is with not y/f/n holding her hair back but some random woman, presumably she'd been in the toilets and noticed y/n needed aid.

Y/n is sick till she notices red and forces herself to stop. No doubt just blood from the sheer amount of alcohol, acid and straining.

"Thank you." Y/n pants before she's yanked up, grateful to get up off the floor.

She loses herself wandering around the club till y/f/n appears out of nowhere. Y/n ends up being pulled along with a couple other men, neither of which licked y/n's belly button tonight so she's counting them as a win and actually with some alcohol gone from her system. She does find that one of them is particularly attractive.

Maybe the rebound sex would be great and she's sobered quite a bit.

-

Thudding brings y/n from the realm of dead back to the living and initially y/n lies sprawled out on her floor like a star. Is it even her floor? She's not sure till she finally pries her eyes open and snaps them closed again before making a second attempt.

"Fuck me." Y/n groans rubbing her eyes harshly.

"I did. A few times. I think." A very vaguely familiar voice states making her push up onto her elbows and find there's a man lying on her floor.

At least she knows it's her place.

"You said you wouldn't have sex on fresh sheets so we slept on the floor." the guy states but her face reads easily and he smiles with a small chuckle. "I'm Tom and you're, y/n. Just in case you forgot your own name too."

"Amazing-what the fuck is that noise? What is thudding? Can you hear that?"

"Pretty sure it's a guy at your door. Your phone has been going off for a while now."

Y/n grunts getting up and throwing some clothes at the guy, making it obvious she's throwing him out and he's not invited to stay for breakfast.

"Get dressed." She instructs just to make herself clear.

Her body aches. She somewhat remembers falling down a flight of stairs. Probably the stupid fire escape, y/n always insists on being able to climb the stairs while drunk.

After a minute of stumbling through her apartment, walking into furniture, walls and almost smacking herself in the face when she lets the door swing open.

"Can I help y-Lando?" Y/n chokes out seeing the driver not hiding his emotions as he pushes into her apartment. "Hey, you can't just let yourself in. I have company."

"Yeah, I can tell." Lando scoffs gesturing to her wearing a lace bralet and shorts which she'd managed to find and pull on during her journey from her bedroom floor to the front door. "We need to talk."

"Now's not really a good-fucking hell." Y/n gasps when a hand hits her ass cheek through the thin white shorts. Before she can get another word out, a finger has hooked her chin and turned her face and she's caught in a sloppy kiss before he pulls back.

"Sorry, had to get one last taste." Gross. She's almost certain what ever she tastes of must at least have some sort of hint of vomit.

"Yeah, um bye Tom. Get home safe."

One last wink is shot her way and he seems to not acknowledge Lando at all which while is probably a wise decision, she can't help but think is pretty rude too.

The door closes and she looks to Lando who has a simmering rage behind his eyes.

"So...we're dating other people?" Lando questions and if y/n had the energy such a question would've landed him with the nearest object to her being thrown at his head.

"I'm not dating him. He was a one night stand." Y/n dismisses while moving away from Lando in search of water, painkillers and maybe some left over pizza that she somewhat recalls purchasing last night. So long as she didn't eat it all. "He was the collateral damage of a girls night out gone rogue."

"So you're going around hooking up with every guy and more that sets his sights on you." Lando scoffs as she pops two painkillers and tosses them back with a mouthful of water. But not even her hospital worthy hangover can continue to snuff out the flames of her anger at such a comment.

"You think I haven't heard the rumours of every fucking bitch you've spent the night with in your lads' trip? Not only multiple women, some two at a time. If it didn't currently make me sick to my stomach I'd applaud you for the pull." Y/n laughs dryly, no humour in her tone as she glares at him.

"I-Those rumours are bullshit." Lando declares earning an eye roll. "I kissed a girl and that's it and it was a mistake."

"Honestly, Lando. It doesn't matter what you did. We-" Y/n gesture between themselves. "-are just friends."

"What?" Lando snaps practically seething at the mere suggestion. "-What the fuck makes you think that?"

Would throwing a plate at his head gain an assault charge if she said he entered the property without permission?

They're both in a rage at each other, but y/n has a massive disadvantage but truly she is so unwell physically.

"You left! You left, Lando. And you didn't call, you didn't text. I was a side piece that you tossed away when you had better things to do with people you preferred the company of. Did you think I was going to wait for you to come back and welcome you with open arms after nearly two months of being ignored and forgotten about? Why don't I just have MUG tattooed on my forehead so you and every other person in the world knows exactly how I apparently want to be treated?"

Y/n can feel her stomach disagreeing with the addition of painkillers and water.

"Can you just leave? I'm-I'm not well and you're making it worse."

Y/n wretches before an alarming bright red liquid spills from her mouth as she uses the counter as support.

"Jesus, y/n." Lando gasps before watching her slide down against the cupboard, narrowly avoiding the puddle of red. "What the fuck did you drink? How much?"

"I don't know. The better part of a bottle before we got to the club...there was a lot of guys buying drinks-"

"Just wait there."

Honestly, her consciousness is dipping. She's exhausted, her body feels like a thousand tones are keeping her pinned to the floor and by the time Lando returns from wherever he'd gone. He gets to just short of stopping her head slide quickly down against the cupboard door and land on the ground with a sickening crack.

-

Lando puffs out a breath as the nurse leaves him with a newly conscious y/n. She has been out for 3 hours after hitting her head. As if her brain needed anymore damage since the amount of alcohol in her system even after being sick had given her alcohol poisoning.

"Fucking hell. I'm never letting y/f/n convince me I need a rebound night again." Y/n grimaces while rubbing at the large bump on her head.

"The doctor said you'll be alright. They just want to keep you for a bit for observation." Lando sighs making her nod. "For the record, I'm sorry...everything you said, you were right to be upset and angry."

Lando hates that she's right, because he knows that none of this would've happened if he hadn't been so damn inconsiderate.

"I want to say you should've said something, but I know I didn't really give you much of a chance." Lando murmurs then standing up and moving to kiss her but she turns her head frowning as he cheeks instead landing on her cheek. "I'll be back in a bit."

Y/n knows a lot of people would kill to have Lando Norris grovelling and apologising for his actions. But in reality, a sorry doesn't change the amount of hurt she's felt over the past 2 months and right now her head is the last thing she's thinking about.

She doesn't really know what "I'll be back in a bit" translates to, but she decides to just wallow and fall into a sleep. Even with painkillers, the dull ache of any movement and the throbbing of her head can't go so easily ignored.

"Y/n...wake up."

"Jesus, don't you know how to leave bad enough alone?" Y/n nearly whines as she forces her eyes open then spotting what Lando did, and there's a couple nurses at the doorway. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

A banner saying "I'm the stupidest man alive, but will you be my girlfriend?" with Lando standing with a nervous looking smile and more balloons than y/n has ever seen in her life fill the room.

"I fucked up. I'm sorry, please let me make it up to you."

Y/n looks at him in awe of his actual courage to leave, then come back and pull this off.

"Alright, you're a muppet but I wasn't broken up about losing you for nothing. Not going to slip on that again." Y/n states making him grin and move towards her finally getting a kiss which doesn't last nearly as long as he wanted it to. "You didn't happen to get to to agree to let me go home, did you?"

"You can go home, but you do have to be kept an eye on." The nurse confirms from the doorway.

"So, I'm on full-time boyfriend duty from the get go." Lando grins while she grimace since Lando is a great guy, but trusting him to play nurse is not something y/n is eager to throw herself into.

"Great." She hums looking at the nurses while smile, clearly just happy to have been a part in getting the two together.

After taking a while to clear up the balloons and banner, which y/n does insist on taking home. When they get to her apartment, she grimaces seeing the towel thrown over the that concerns congealed puddle that Lando presumbly made a weak attempt at somewhat cleaning up.

"I got it." Y/n states since it's her who drank herself to such a disastrous state.

"Y/n, you're concuss. Go lie down." Lando instructs making her look at him for a moment before she sighs as she watches him clean up in the most unorthodox way but she doesn't comment since he's trying and she'll give him credit for that. "Done, now...I'm going to run you a bath and we can get you properly cleaned up."

-

Admittedly, Lando has been going above and beyond. Her body is completely healed, and Lando's hands on approach has yet to really ease up. But with the impending F1 season. He does have to actually get to work and leave her.

"You have to go. Go on." Y/n laughs before she hugs him tightly, not actually giving any sign that she's going to loosen her hold. But equally, Lando really isn't fighting her on it, holding her just as tightly.

"Wish I could just shove you in my pocket and bring you with me."

"Now that would be impressive. Ok, I'll let you go. I got my own shit to sort out. Text me that you get there safe."

"I will." Lando murmurs before leaning forward and kissing her several times. "Let me know what you're doing and if you're going out, just I'll pick you up if I'm heading back before you are."

Lando realised how much y/n meant to him when he had to drive her to the hospital for help, he realised that he loved her in the week following that where he spent every second of the day fussing over her. Y/n is honestly his dream girlfriend and while she's been recovering from head trauma and alcohol poisoning, she's made the effort to let Lando know this isn't going to be a one-sided relationship.

Now they just have to see how going into the season goes. But safe to say Lando intends to have her around a lot.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris mclaren #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #mclaren f1 #ln4 #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #ln4 one shot #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren racing

[deepouterspacecandy]

Fallout

What if—and stay with me here—you and Abigail Anderson meet after the nuclear war? Thank you for being here and for all the messages and comments so far. It means the world. Violence and sexual themes, my works are 18+ only. All screenshots on my blog are from my personal gameplay.

For the past twenty years, you’ve watched the same tropical fish, electric blue and fire-engine red, gliding across your computer screen in an agonizingly predictable rhythm. It’s only now that you find yourself longing to experience the texture of the water they inhabit.

You know very well that it would not be wise to go outside.

The blinding flashes of light and the thunderous clap of explosions are an acid burn against the labyrinths of your mind. The horrifying sight of the only landscape you’d ever known reduced to rubble while your family scrambled to get you to the safety of the bunker.

Maybe the loneliness has finally caught up with you, or perhaps it’s the relentless glare of the artificial lights slowly eroding your sanity.

But what if, contrary to their warnings, it’s not a desolate wasteland anymore?

As you ponder the enchantments that lie beyond your impermeable tomb, vibrant hues of coral reef and gently swaying anemones taunt you.

“Stupid sea turtles. You probably have twelve eyes by now,” you mumble, your plight only heard by the dust on your bookshelves and a solitary pair of slippers near the entrance to your sleeping quarters.

It’s time to take your daily dose of vitamins and choke down another prepackaged meal that tastes more like chemicals than actual food, and your stomach doesn’t even have the decency to growl. You reluctantly pry yourself away from the evening’s entertainment, your eyes darting to the digital clock above the whiteboard to count down the minutes to your dinner alarm.

On the menu for tonight are three delicious options: chicken and potatoes, beef mac and cheese, or a warm and comforting bowl of sloppy, insipid oatmeal with apple slices that never quite rehydrate as the package promises.

Truth be told, everything tastes like a monotonous heap of nothingness, and you’re tempted to paint the walls with it instead.

Alas, when the clock chimes at you like an insouciant bird suddenly forgetting it hasn’t seen the sun in over a decade, you begrudgingly get up and continue with your daily routines, trapped in the monotony of it all.

Just as you are about to tear open your lavish foil packet of sustenance, a strange, unrecognizable sound echoes from the desk. At first, your heart skips a beat, mistaking the warbling sound for a warning alert, indicating a potential issue with the air ventilation system or some other critical failure in this sterile foxhole you’re forced to call home.

Despite this, as you plod your way across the frigid floor on your brisk return to the computer, you nearly trip over your own feet at what you discover.

It’s a chat box of some kind, from an interface you’ve never seen before.

A: Is anyone out there?

Your eyes strain as you read the unexpected message, the words blurring together until you’re finally jolted out of your trance by a second one.

A: Please tell me I’m not the only one left...

Gripped by the sudden fear that you might have quietly descended into madness, you blink hard, hoping the mirage might disappear so you can go about your riveting night with at least half your marbles intact.

A: God, it’s been so long since I’ve touched anyone, I forget what it feels like.

The chat box flickers impatiently, awaiting your response. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unable to produce a reply.

This can’t be real.

You spent years curled up by the radio, desperate for human connection, and not a single living creature drifted along those frequencies. The possibility of finding other survivors through the computer disappeared when the population and all its infrastructure vanished into sheets of vapor.

The buzz of florescent bulbs above your head is making it difficult to concentrate. You glance up at the long-abandoned treadmill beckoning you to step aboard to bring some order to your lunacy. You contemplate it until the next message appears and captures your full attention, keeping you firmly planted in your seat.

A: I swear if I have to scarf down another bag of chili mac, I’m going to lose it.

This person knows exactly what you're going through, struck by the same hardships. Finally, your mind and body synchronize, and you regain sensation in your fingertips.

⚡️Does yours come with peppermints? Mine does. They taste like shit, but I’m building a chess set with the ones I can’t bear to eat.

A: Holy fuck.

⚡️I know. I don’t even remember how to play chess.

A: HOLY FUCK!

It’s your first meeting with something other than the lifeless mop tucked away in the cabinet, and you scold yourself for coming across so indifferently. There is still a part of you that remains convinced you are in some sort of dream.

A: I can’t believe it finally worked. Are you for real?

It’s a relevant question, one you’ve battled with for some time now if you’re honest.

⚡️I’ve wondered the same thing lately. Maybe I’m just trapped in a really bad dream, or the air ran out in my bunker and I’m dead as a motherfucker.

A: Seems like a cruel way to spend the afterlife.

⚡️You should try the oatmeal. If there’s a Hell, I’ve got about four hundred packets of it in my pantry.

You take another quick look at the clock, and it's been around five minutes since you last replied. It’s not that you expect this person to read you a bedtime story, but if you're feeling anxious about losing them already, there's no one around to criticize you for it.

A: The one with the apples, right?

Your heart leaps with pure exhilaration. Either your brain is playing tricks on you, reflecting your experience to keep you from bouncing off the walls, or this person is destined to become your closest companion.

⚡️Do they get stuck in your teeth, too?

Your kitchen timer is rattling angrily on the countertop, and you're unable to determine how much time has passed since it started buzzing. The fear inside you grows, convincing you that leaving at this moment would somehow sever the connection. Putting yourself in harm's way is a real possibility when you choose to skip a meal. In response, you decide to sprint there and back, unwilling to take any chances.

A: No, but that’s because I know how to cook them properly.

With a loud clatter, your porcelain bowl lands on the desk, and the sauce immediately oozes onto your mouse pad. An indignant huff escapes your chest as you lick your fingers clean and plop back into your chair, almost losing your balance as it threatens to roll away.

It's possible that you're not as offended as you initially thought, as a slight stinging feeling radiates through your cheeks. How long has it been since you last smiled?

⚡️Hold up, are you saying I don’t know how to cook?

A: Not necessarily. How would you rate your ability to read directions, though?

Giggles slip out of your mouth, catching you off guard. The stark contrast between the gloomy ambiance of the space and the vibrant, hopeful sound is startling. But something warm and playful rises inside you.  

⚡️That’s it. I'm turning off my computer.

A: Please don’t go.

Even though you've never met this person, the desperation in their tone weighs heavily on you.

⚡️Don’t worry, I won’t. I was only kidding.

The response is lightning fast, leaving you no time to acknowledge your meal—steadily cooling and forming an unappetizing skin across the surface.

A: Oh. Okay. Well, good then. I was messing around too... the apples are the fucking worst.

You stare in disbelief at the conversation so far, your mind a chaotic blend of empty thoughts and a flood of words waiting to burst out.

⚡️I knew it. They weren’t any good even before they expired!

A: Do your gardens still work?

It's been forever since you had the chance to look after them. The systems malfunctioned early on and gone were the days of fresh vegetation. You cried yourself to sleep for weeks.

⚡️No gardens.

A: I’m sorry, that blows. Broken, or you never had them to begin with?

⚡️Yeah, the first one. A while ago, now.

Your bowl of goop sits untouched as you reminisce about running your fingers over the lush, waxy leaves.

A: I’ll share my apples with you. Got any books over there?

Regardless of your unwillingness to accept it, your bunker boasts an extensive collection of literature that you have diligently read from cover to cover. Since the universe only gives so much at a time, you jest.

⚡️I hear the postal system is on hiatus. Any chance you were in bumfuck Montana when the world fell apart?

Her answer is so electrifying that it sends shivers racing from your scalp down to your toes and you have to steady your breathing before you can fully absorb the details.

A: Born and raised. I’m Abby, by the way. It’s really nice to meet you.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian #abby anderson #tlou part 2

[the-fiction-witch]

Just To Spite You

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF

Requested: Hi, I would like to request something It's for the jack Dawkins book The reader's father is throwing a party and invites a lot of people including jack , the reader's enemy. They hate each other, the thing is there is such a thick tension between them they can't deny it but it has to be a secret 

I stood at the top of the staircase doing my best to hold my breath and keep out of view. I looked down at myself in my little heeled shoes too tight for my feet, my tight stockings, my endless crinoline, bird cage of wicker, petticoats, my corset on tight enough to strangle me, and my huge uncomfortable gold glittering ballgown around me, the top off my shoulders but tight to my skin so much it would truly mark me, my long sheer glittering butterfly sleeves almost to the floor, A band of teal blue ribbon around my waist, my hem and as a choker around my neck. I had skin-tight white gloves to my elbows already glimmering from the glitter that had fallen from my dress, a ring around my finger with a large blue gem attached to the bottom my dress so I would not have to hold it to move or dance, My hair had taken hours or meticulous combing and curling and now allowed to hang freely down my back. I hated to look at myself. I felt uncomfortable. Out of place. But this is what my father wants for tonight... 

Tonight was my father's Grand ball he holds each year, and this year I was a grand piece of it. 

I had always been a decoration for his grand balls but tonight was different I know my father is desperate to wed me off before I will begin to be labelled as an old maid or thornback, it already brought him such rage that I was even a spinster.  

"If I may announce, formally. My daughter Miss Y/n Y/M/N Y/l/N!" He called out and the party began to applaud. 

I sighed and stepped slowly down the stairs knowing the sort of madness if I were to trip or worse fall down the stairs. I stopped at the landing of the stairs looking out the the party, full of eligible men and a few couples of high local importance. They all looked impressed by me but I just felt awful. As soon as I could I grabbed a drink and hid myself in a corner trying to not be passed or looked at much, not easy in this glitter of a gown. 

Men often came up to me to greet me so I forced a smile and a nod a drank more. 

"Having fun?" A smirking voice spoke up I glanced to my side and saw a familiar sight... admittedly He'd cleaned up. 

Dr Jack Dawkins leant on the wall a pair of well-shined shoes, black trousers, and his usual shirt but it was actually white. Good god I didn't know he still owned any that were still white and not an off-grey from washing blood out, a light cream waistcoat with a slight teardrop pattern to it, a white tie around his neck and a black jacket folded over his arm, his hair well fixed without its usual fluffy frizz and his hands clean... or well as clean as one can get a surgeon's hands without bathing them in acid. 

"Ohh yes, Thrilling." I sighed downing the rest of my drink at the mere idea of the two of us having to... be nice to one another. 

"You're father's gone all out."

"He will. He does. He's a social man."

"And you're a recluse."

"I am not a social recluse Dr Dawkins, I meer wish to spend my time socializing with people with high intellect and important things to say."

"That's why you're talking to me?" he smirked,

"No. You are neither of those things so if you could kindly take your buggery blonde butt elsewhere that would be... Marvellous." I sighed as I saw a drinks tray go past so I quickly took one and so did he, 

"Pompous Old maid" he muttered

"Butcher."

"Whiner"

"Coot"

"Witch"

"Uneducated scoundrel"

"Patronizing Princess"

"irritating malevolent"

"Snobbish toffee nose"

"illiterate Phiilistine"

"exasperating Spinster"

"Crude vagabond" I complained, "will you go away!"

"I would, however, every woman here is married, courting or an utter idiot. And at least you can hold a conversation."

"Even if I'm going to insult you."

"Insult me all you want just please don't talk about bloody flowers. I can't hear anymore." 

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"You're father invited me."

"Why? He knows about my... feelings towards you."

"I believe he mistakes our hatred for sexual tension," he said, 

"Why would he do that?"

"At least he sees you talking to me, even if we are arguing. And let's face it most husbands and wives are like this after five years so... maybe he just thinks we are getting a head start" he said sipping his drink

"You are one of the most insufferable men I have ever met Mr Dawkins."

"Dr Dawkins. You're going to insult me you can do it correctly Sweetheart."

"Do not call me sweetheart!" I glared 

"Why? Are you gonna fight me in your glittery little dress sweetheart?" He smirked moving closer and bending himself to make eye contact like you would with a child given he was a whole head taller than me "Or better yet take it off and we can go upstairs."

My response was to simply throw my drink in his face and march off elsewhere. 

Unfortunately, I was found by my father who forced me to begin the usual nonsense, I now had to dance with any man who asked it of me and of course many did. I found it utterly nauseating being held and dancing with these men only interested in me for my father's money all while on display to everyone meaning if I pulled a face or acted up everyone would know. Luckily it would soon be over as most of the eligible men invited I had now danced with. 

This man finished up with me kissed my gloved hand and returned to his friends, leaving me before him.

Jack stood with a wide smirk his jacket now back on he bowed and offered his hand, I did my best to hide my face but I'm sure I turned red with anger. 

"Don't you dare," I whispered letting him take my hand and giving it a sweet kiss 

"Ohh I will princess. Just to spite you" He smirked holding my hand in his own he grabbed my waist and forced me close enough I could feel the buttons on his jacket, I sighed and moved my hand to his shoulder, 

"I am going to dispice every moment of this."

"I think I'm going to enjoy it," he smirked as we began to dance, he lead of course even if at times I did fight with him luckily many others danced too so we could speak even in hushed tones and I didn't have to be as careful hiding my emotions 

"Do you have to hold me so tight my father will get angry?"

"Ohh that's the plan, I want us to be close."

"Why?"

"well half because I can make your father suspicious, and I can see down your dress."

"You just get more and more insufferable don't you Dr dawkins."

"Ohh I do, it's awfully fun." He chuckled "Christ I can feel the glitter on your dress flaking off in my hand" 

"Perhaps I shall send you home glittery and sparkling,"

"You would wouldn't you."

"I would. Just to spite you."

"God even your perfume is infuriating" he whispered in a sly tone as we danced doing a good spin or two, 

"Ohh I live for the moments you spin me away, Dr Dawkins,"

"Ohh why do you get a moment of peace from my arms?"

"No, because for a few brief seconds, I don't have to smell your blood-laden aftershave." 

"Perhaps I smell bloody because I'm a vampire about to bite your neck sweetheart."

"You bite my neck, and I chop your dick off," I said purposely forcing him to spin me out but he quickly spun me back into his chest

"Ooohh feisty" He smirked 

"At least my drink somewhat covers your aftershave."

"Well then I thank you for making me more palatable" 

"Ohh you're far from palatable." 

"You know, you're not a bad dancer."

"Neither are you, surprisingly." I sighed "How did you get this good?"

"So I'm good am I?"

"For a butcher."

"I was in the navy, you'd be surprised how many officer's balls you attend. You pick things up."

"I imagine all the ladies wanted to dance with you,"

"Ohh they did, but I save my skills for the pretty ones."

"so I'm pretty am I?"

"Gorgeous Sweetheart." He whispered 

"Don't call me sweetheart." I glared digging my nails into his hand 

"You are adorable when your are angry, like a little pixie."

"One of these days Dr. Dawkins, you're going to wake up with me over you."

"Ohh I'm betting I will" he smirked 

"And I shall drive your own scalpel into your heart." 

"Ohhh sweetheart, such a violent little thing you are." He smirked, "Just remember you do anything to me, I will haunt your every waking moment, I will be the face you see in your nightmares and trust me you'll be having nothing but."

"Just dance doctor." I sighed 

"Why? Are you enjoying our dance? or do you just like a man having you in his arms."

"I've been dancing in men's arms all night."

"Not boys. A Man sweetheart." 

"Ohh I would love too, shame I don't see any men here tonight."

"One of these days I'm going to have you tied down on my operating table."

"Ohh? Didn't know you were into that sort of thing Dr Dawkins."

"Ohhh you'd be surprised by the sorts of things I'm into."

"Ohh getting rejected by little ladies? even after you saved their lives."

"You know. I'm a doctor."

"As you keep saying."

"One of these days you'll need my help, you'll be laid on my table, and only I will be able to save you."

"Ohh? And you'll let me die I suppose out of pure spite?"

"No." he smirked as we finished our dance he took a step back and brought my hand to his lips giving it a firm kiss never breaking eye contact "I'd ensure you live. Just to spite you." He smiled "Goodnight Miss Y/l/n"

"Goodnight Dr Dawkins."

"It was a pleasure," he smiled wickedly before he headed back into the main mess of the party. 

Ohh, my god... I hate that man. 

why does he have to be so..... Ughhh! there isn't been a word for that man! 

I fixed my dress a little before I noticed.

MY RING! 

It's gone! 

Ohh and I know just the slippery eel who took it. 

"Miss if I may-" A man began trying to dance with me

"Not now." I snapped lifting my dress and marching through the party to find Dr Dawkins, and I spotted him leaving the main room so I rushed after him grabbed his jacket and yanked him into the music room empty for this evening 

"What the hell!" He yelled 

"My ring I know you stole it!"

"I haven't stolen anything." 

"Liar!"

"Ohh you come to admit I've stolen your heart?"

"Give me my ring Jack! it was my mother's give it back." 

He rolled his eyes and handed me my ring back 

"You are... the most unendurable peacockish Lobcock of a man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

"You are the most horrendous upstart of a woman I have ever met!"

Both of us were red in the face from yelling, our blood boiling I wanted to kill him to throw him across the room but I grabbed his shirt and he grabbed my face and we kissed with more passion and heat than I had ever felt in a kiss, his lips soft and gentle as we slowly kissed in utter silence. It was... the most amazing kiss of my life. 

We stopped and moved away from each other both of us gasping and trying to comprehend what just happened between us. 

"What the hell was that..."

"I have no idea."

"Do you wanna fight me or fuck me jack!"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know. you're a ...complicated woman and you make me feel... Complicated"

"Complicated?"

"Some days, I swear to god I could strangle you! but... I also want to hold you and kiss you"

"I...I admit I want to slap you so so badly but... I also really want to kiss you." I answered, "Did you wanna do it again?"

"God yes!" He gasped pulling me back to his lips, I happily kissed him back stroking his neck and tugging on his hair, and he backed me against the closed door "Ummm you evil little witch! all this time all you've done is wind me up, I want you. I need you. I swear to god I will tie you to my bed tonight and have my way with you kicking and screaming if I have to."

"I want you too. I need you too. I want you forced on my bed until you beg me for mercy"

"Ohh I wouldn't beg you for mercy. Just to spite you."

"Then I'd never scream just to spite you." 

"Ohh I'll make you scream sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Ohh I will," he smirked 

"We must stop"

"We must."

"I don't want to."

"Me either."

"But we must." I gasped moving away "We must. We... we must build a wall between us. These emotions they must... never be revealed."

"No... they mustn't" he nods 

I found myself unable to not stare but he also couldn't help it, as we stood five feet from each other wanting nothing more than to be in each other's arms 

"Beleive me... if your father and his party were not on the other side of that door." He said, "I would throw you on this floor and ruin you." 

"As would I you." I answered "But... we cannot. People will hear. people will talk. We can never be together."

"Why not? this is a ball to find you a husband isn't it?"

"why would I ever want to be married to you!"

"Because we can't resist each other. You know it. I know it. Our anger has always been just boiling tension... take my hand. and come with me to see your father. Let me marry you. and I swear our lives will be nothing but enthralled passion and ecstasy." 

"I do not wish to be married."

"And you can't avoid it. you know you can't your father will wed you to the first of those boys who ask... and you know your life could be infuriating if you were married. At least if you marry me you know it will be."

"Passion made fade in time."

"If it does... it will be too late. I will be yours. your will be mine. I do not imagine our passion fading but if it does, I will keep you in my arms, love you endlessly, and make love to you with the passion of tonight. Just to spite you."

"if we were to marry, you must understand that I will have to trust you... and if you break it Dr dawkins. I will see to it that your life is miserable and I will never ever give you peace, just to spite you."

"Understood. marry me. Be my bride. And I swear I will suffer with you all of my days." he said taking my hands 

"....Marry me. Make me your bride... so we can suffer this fate together for the rest of our lives." I stroked across his face 

He pulled me to his lips and we kissed with such hunger, such passion and love.

"I love you sweetheart,"

"Love you too Jack." I smiled laying my head on his chest and he rested his chin on my head 

"Come on then, let's go see your father before some boy tries to snap you up, sweetheart."

"Alright jack" I smiled holding his arm as we returned to the party. 

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins

[magical-girl-coral]

Summarizing Mushishi Episodes Like Onion Articles - Part 2

Banquet at the Forest's Edge - Local business owner finds all those stories of people getting inventive ideas while on acid trips might have a good point after all.

The Warbling Sea Shell - Local dad is forced to admit that maybe isolating his only child from other human interactions might not be what's best for them.

Beneath the Snow - "I have never been better" says man who's terrible mental health has reached a level where it is affecting the weather around him.

The Hand That Caresses the Night - Local teen breaks family curse by admitting his father was actually massive shithead.

Mirror Lake - Local teen so damn annoying about her heartbreak that her own doppelganger had to put a stop to it.

Floral Delusion - Local man with a weird ass library and sketchy medicine is revealed to be a major creep, shocking no one.

Cloudless Rain - Local woman loses the ability to cry and somehow it becomes everyone's problem.

Wind Raiser - Local teenager runs away from home to become a professional whistler.

Valley of the Welling Tides - "Is breast milk secretly trying to kill you" and five other fascinating articles written by nutjobs.

Depths of Winter - Traveling man becomes a god's squeak toy for an entire winter and somehow comes out unscratched.

Cushion of Grass - Local orphan ruins an entire ecosystem by liking an egg too much.

Fragrant Darkness - Local family man finally escaped a time loop only to go straight back in it when the future doesn't turn out well.

Lingering Crimson - Top four fun stories to tell before bed that will make your children afraid of their own shadow.

Hidden Cove - How one codependent relationship between two women nearly turned their village into a hive mind.

Thread of Light - Local kid's anger issues mysteriously disappears after finally being allowed to meet his mother for the first time in ten years and gaining a healthy support network.

Sea of Otherworldly Stars - Local girl accidentally enters the twilight zone to get back at her sister.

Azure Waters - Local woman loses everything thanks to several water filled accidents and still manages not to develop a phobia around it which is a bigger miracle than her son being half fish.

Lightning's End - Local woman so bad at being a mother that the lighting that keeps striking her son seems like a better parent in comparison.

Mud Grass - Feel bad about your own brood? This family can't stop killing each other for five fucking minutes!

Tree of Eternity - Local man gains the ability to see into the past in the price of his legs by trying out this totally legal vegan meal.

Bonus:

Path of Thorns - "I am the most normal person I know" says man after confessing he hasn't had a soul in years.

Bell Droplets - Young girl believed to have autism was actually a forest child all along while still being autistic.

#Mushishi

[cbk1000]

Hey, so kind of a general writing/not been on tumblr much update (because apparently I'm so perpetually online people will ask me if I'm ok after a few days of me not posting as much lmao): I have been having some health issues. I haven’t really mentioned them aside from updating a couple people I talk to daily on why I've been so quiet because a.) I felt too poorly to do anything other than marathon sitcoms I've seen a bazillion times, and b.) I didn't know what was going on.

The tl; dr is that, after getting diagnosed with strep throat a few weeks ago, and feeling mostly normal aside from some minor irritation in my throat, I started feeling horribly weak and overall just fucking terrible, and I was having bad tachycardia. Like a heart rate in the high 130s just standing, and a sitting heart rate of like 110 (my normal resting heart rate is in the low 70s). Three trips to the ER later, a bunch of normal labs and cardiac tests, and my boss (ER nurse for 20 years) pushing for an echo, and I finally got a diagnosis of pericarditis, which is inflammation of the sac around your heart. It's most commonly caused by viruses. The ER doc suspects my strep throat was misdiagnosed and I had a virus that caused the inflammation of my heart, although I think bacterial infections can sometimes cause it as well. I've been put on high dose ibuprofen and some acid reflux meds to protect my stomach while I'm on such a high dose of ibuprofen, and I have to take it easy for at least the next week and then be careful and play it by ear. I have been too weak to even sit up much for the past several days and cannot stand for very long, which is infuriating as someone who does one-armed push-ups for funsies.

Anyway, all this is to say, I'm still alive, the next chapter of Book of Merthur (for any of you following it) was coming along just fine but for obvious reasons is a bit postponed now. I'll probably be off work all next week again and hopefully will feel strong enough to get in a bit of writing. (And for any readers about to say, 'Oh my God, don't worry about that, take care of yourself!!' I am literally gnashing my teeth to go back to writing and am furious that my last week or so has consisted of me being too exhausted even to read. I've been marathoning sitcoms I've seen a bazillion times, I'm not even much of a TV watcher, and I'm going crazy. Yesterday I lifted two books to get to the one I wanted underneath them, and was so exhausted I went straight back to bed. THEY WERE PAPERBACKS. AND NOT WAR AND PEACE PAPERBACKS.)

#personal #also Mr Jenn is a gem just throwing that out there

[sagau-fruit-bowl]

Hello you poor unfortunate souls. I have decided to write part five of What if SAGAU [Name] was the only 'god' actually cared about Teyvat.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

[Name] has kinda gotten sick of starting out chapters with their name, but a lot less sick of that than how sick they currently feel so it's happening anyway.

[Name] wasn't happy. That was a fact.

They wanted a picnic, they wanted rest, they wanted a week long vacation, THEY DID NOT WANT A HEADACHE AND TO BE PUKING THEIR LUNGS OUT ON COLD STONE GROUND!

[Name] didn't even have a chance to orient themselves. That dizzying and nauseating warmth filled their body and caused them to drop faster than Gamestop's market value.

Their vision had gone completely black as their head pounded like a four year old throwing a hissy fit. If this pain didn't stop, [Name] was going to act like a hissy fit throwing four year old.

When their vision slowly returned to them is when they began to throw up.

[Name] shoved the food they hand in hand to the side so it wouldn't be covered the stomach acid that was correctly burning their mouth and covering the stone steps below them.

The backpack on their shoulders shifted up towards their head as they curled up under to steps and as soon as they stopped losing what would have been their lunch, they sat up and winced at the back that slid backwards and slightly knocked them off balance.

They clenched their eyes shut, waiting for the pain to dissipate and once it faded, they opened their eyes to look around.

The first thing they saw was the stone stairs that they had made a mess up and they felt nauseous again at the idea of cleaning it up so they decided to ignore it for the time being. 

The second thing that caught their attention was the wide expanse of greenery in front of them.

Rocks and boulders decorated what seemed like a path but behind it was a field. A handful of trees were scattered around and the grass came to an end at what seemed like small cliffs. 

[Name] struggled to their feet, looking around and smiling slightly upon seeing their food hadn't been ruined. They'd eat today after all.

A brief thought passed through their head at the irony of worrying about food what they should be worried about finding out where they are.

… Right. Finding out where they are. They don't know where they are, [Name] realized with panic finally setting in.

What had happened? Were they kidnapped or something twisted of the like?

[Name] turned around to get a view of what was behind them and fill in the gaps of knowledge regarding their surroundings. 

When they turned and faced what was behind them, they took a moment to attempt to form coherent thought but all that left their mouth was 

"What the actual fuck?!"

Really awful last words if something went wrong if they do say so themselves but Oh well. It was really all they could think before they started rambling to themselves.

"Oh of all the acid trips to have, this is what I get. Teyvat. Staring at a statue of the bard bitch! Of course. Couldn't be Dawn Winery, couldn't be the Knights of Favonius headquarters, couldn't even be inside Mondstadt, no! I come to the middle of a dangerous field! Fuck my life! Fuck my life! The gods have no mercy because they are rat bastards!"

As they fumed in rage, they kicked the base of the statue, resulting in a yelp of pain when their foot hit the rock. 'Of course' they thought to themselves. 'Couldn't even get protagonist powers. Never gonna have a Y/N moment.' [Name] snickered at the fanfiction thought.

"Well, time to get moving." [Name] said to empty air, grabbing their food and being thankful that it was securely packaged so that they could put it into their bag, except for the mug cake, which they grabbed a fork for and took a bite from.

Name tried to decide on the best course of action as they stepped down the stairs, ignoring the mess they left from when they threw up. 'It's nature, I'm sure it'll rain and be gone in no time.'

After thinking it through, traveling to Mondstadt seemed like the best option, provided they weren't attacked on the way there.

Unfortunately, [Name] didn't have the best luck. As evidenced by the situation they're in but only becomes more and more obvious as what was supposed to be a simple walk becomes a lot more.

Let's start with the fact that the ground below them felt like quick sand, their feet sinking into what should be solid stone or well trodden dirt. 

Next, the number of animals that seemed desperate to get on [Name]'s nerves. Squirrels throwing acorns at them was not something [Name] ever thought they'd experience and birds purposely getting under foot wasn't helping them keep their balance.

[Name]'s mind momentarily related the situation of birds spreading out their feathers and squirrels tossing their food as being similar to padding the ground that royalty or holy figures would walk on… at least until their brain simply settled on them simply being an Disney anti-princess, driving the animals insane rather than calming them.

Squirrels chattered, birds squawked and cawed, even the boars grunted and tore up the ground with their tusks but [Name] had no interest in paying those unsettling sounds even an ounce of attention. 

Just get to Mondstadt, they repeated in their mind as their thoughts continued to sour.

Eventually they had enough when they tripped on another nut and nearly broke a bird's wing, scraping up their arms and shattering the mug they had held in their hands.

[Name] clenched their eyes closed at the pain of glass and dirt in their arms and inhaled in an attempt not to throw a fit as the animals began to creep closer.

They had finally had enough at the sound of a loud squawk from a bird and let out a blood curdling scream that was a mix of rage and pain… but the animals didn't flee, quieting down and calmly curling up next to their legs, smaller ones nuzzling their skin and larger ones gently coming in contact with their shoulders and face. 

After a moment, [Name] let out a shaky breath and opened their eyes, they knew they had to get the glass out of the wounds, but [Name] paused once more as they looked down at their arms.

There was no blood, there should have been blood, there was nothing… no, wrong, there was something, a shimmering silver liquid following from their arms and allowing a clear view of the damage.

If asked, [Name] couldn't explain why they pulled such a stupid move, but they reached up a hand to touch the damage. The muscle and flesh underneath was red but all that flowed out was clear, with a metallic sheen.

[Name]'s hand seemed to work against their better judgment, nails carefully grabbing hold of every shard of glass they could see.

They were brought out of this haze by a quiet caw from their left, looking over they spotted a crow, holding what seemed to be a sunsettia in its mouth.

It hopped over to [Name]'s side and dropped it in their lap.

It took everything in them not to try to pet the creature as they took the food and began to eat, eyes widening in shock as when they finished, gren text flashed in their vision.

+300 hp

The skin began to reshape itself, growing to cover the flesh and pull dust and dirt from the wound and leaving on the fully developed out layer of skin.

Oh.. Oh right, game mechanics. Does that make them a playable character? They passively mused before shaking off that thought, that should not be their main concern.

[Name] carefully placed a hand on the top of the nearest squirrel and gave it a soft smile and spoke with a gentle tone. 

"Thank you very much, little ones, but please, give travelers some space."

There was no purpose being cruel when the critters didn't understand their actions.

They would have likely said more if a gasp from their right didn't draw them out of their stupor.

A white and gold scarf was the first thing that caught their attention but the rest of the clothes were soon also noticed and their eyes locked onto honey colored hues that caused them to realize how much of a mess they likely truly looked like, surrounded by animals, likely sweating, probably has some cake stains or crumbs on their shirt, carrying a heavy bag and most definitely red faced from dissipating anger and exhaustion.

Well, [Name] told to themselves, if there was ever a bad time to make a bad impression, it was then and that was the best worst impression they could make, it couldn't get any worse from there on out.

So [Name] gave Aether a smile that looked a bit more like a grimace and focused back in on the animals. They could speak with the Traveler at any time, cuddling with animals was an appreciated rarity, at least until they were yanked away from their newfound fluffy friends and pulled to meet Aether's eyes.

In panic they attempted to pull away but his grip tightened and he spoke quietly "Say something again."

It wasn't a request, it was a demand. One [Name] wasn't stupid enough to disobey and simply let their mind flow.

"Really not worried about your reputation, huh alien boy?"

Okay, so, on second thought, maybe not answering would have been the better idea but hey! They didn't end up skewered on his sword so first impressions could have gone worse.

At least they thought so until he dropped to his knees, Paimon who had merely been floating around following suit, seemingly whispering to the Traveler.

Aether kept his eyes trained on the ground after his body dropped but he spoke just loud enough to be heard.

"Your Grace, our dearest Guide, thank you for allowing me the honor of being the first to meet you in person."

Well, [Name] told themselves, he might be clinically insane but at least that first impression wasn't as bad as they thought.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Part six

Well hey! I actually posted it! Way to go me!

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It's fun to write and seeing feedback makes me really really happy.

Feel free to like, comment, reblog, send in an ask or send in a request, or just DM me if my inbox doesn't work (I'm still figuring out this writing blog thing.)

Tag list! (Please ask if you want to be tagged in future chapters, also if you want to be tagged in headcanons and other The Guide related posts.)

@chihawari

@samuelftm

@mizuistrying

#genshin x reader #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin self aware au #sagau cult au #genshin impact x you #The Guide

[dilatorywriting]

A concept- a brainrot, if you will- I wish to present to you on a silver platter, respectfully, as your Monster Mayhem series (and D&D talk eeeee) has inspired me:

Jack Howl as both the "huntsman" and the "wolf" in a Little Red Ridinghood scenario. The forest is very dangerous, but the dangers are unseen- think spells that delude the victim into hallucinations, guiding them into acid pits and other dangers. The forest wasn't always like this, which is why people don't take the warnings seriously and wander in. Humans always so foolishly challenge fate, after all.

So Jack decides to give these people a "seen" danger to be wary of- the big bad wolf stalking the outskirts. They live afraid, but they live safe. And the town's warden (sheriff? Something of the kind?)- Jack himself, in human form- assures them that he's leading an investigation and kindly stops people who want to attempt entry.

This is a pain in the ass for you- a young adventurer who is very aware that the forest has "gone evil" because your warlock grandmother is getting too old to tend to her patron's shrine, which kept the sleeping evil of the ancient forest (which is definitely either the grave of a dead diety or the bed of a great sleeping evil) locked away. You know it is a dangerous trip, but you aren't completely helpless, having some magic under your belt yourself.

If only this damn town warden would let you peacefully wander into this absolute nightmare forest. If only a large, snow-white wolf didn't keep blocking your path- oh, sorry, didn't keep "trying to kill you," though you're pretty sure he isn't, as he always stops just short of harm.

Bonus points if:

- The thing keeping your grandma from doing her shrine maiden very suspicious, definitely spooky warlock duties is something silly, but realistic as an old people problem (like 'i can't reach that high anymore, my back hurts too much' or 'the arthritis is getting to me and I can't draw the sigils')

- Literally any "Into the Woods" reference... "into the woods and down the del, the path is straight I know it well~" *five minutes later* "fuck, this ain't my forest anymore, why didn't grandma send me a letter sooner??? By the great gods I TOLD her to get a familiar to help out around here-"

- Jack personally knows your granny and panics when you, finally, tell him (in wolf form) that you're trying to get to her. (Jack helped clear her name in a "witch hunt," which is a little ironic considering the circumstances)

-You are very done with stumbling into another life-or-death evil forest situation after the 15th time. You grew up here! You took care of the forest with grandma! Could these damn human-eating trees be any less grateful?! (To be fair, they didn't have a taste for humans when you were little.)

-Rook appears. Yes, there are two huntsman now. Of COURSE Rook is enamored by the thrill of ancient evil and a mysterious wolf. Now Jack has to keep an eye out for his own hide, too...

-Smh, the idea of rook being involved just made me think of Vil as the "ancient evil" sleeping. A little drama queen who is angry that his ritual has not been performed to preserve his 10,000-year beauty sleep. Yeah, I've decided that "sleeping evil" is actually "sleeping eVil." The horrifying forest is a result of his anger from seeing ONE (1) adorable forest boy that was prettier than himself. The stress gave him a wrinkle. The wrinkle has caused this immense horror nightmare. Vil has decided to take an angry beauty-coma until the wrinkle has faded away. This is some petty god shit.

Lord I meant for this to be more Jack-focused but then I brainrotted really hard. He's just so.... nice? Stable? Sane? It's a lot more fun to brainrot over the absolute chaotic mess that is our boys with big egos and issues with pettiness.

Anyways, I will bow and make my exit! I'm a huge fan of dark fantasy genre stuff and, as a result, adore your interpretation of the Twst cast and the environments/scenarios you create for your stories! So I wanted to offer a dose of my inspired rambles, flavored by the sheer excitement reading your fics and posts has given me. Just in case it isn't clear this isn't a request I'm just HYPE rn.

*me intently scribbling all of this down as fast as possible and having an aneurism over the awesome and AHHHHH*

But holy fuck YES, I LOVE this idea. And then the Vil shit at the end, especially seeing that he and Jack are friends in canon! So like! More overlap! But also just! All of it!! AHHHH!!! My brain is on fire.

But holy shit I am just so in love with this idea. It's giving me so much fire-in-the-brain inspiration, and I do like Jack a lot, but I don't Love love him normally (I have my two undying favs, and they can never be displaced), but goddamn now you've got me wanting to write this so badly!!!!

#Asks #Monster Mayhem #💜💜

[marine-indie-gal]

I have recently watched the Most Messiest Fairy Tale Crossover Adaptation in all of its Existence made by the Same Company who did their Adaptation of My Recent Favorite German Franchise called "The Magic Riddle" and despite the film's huge wasted potential of going back and forth every single time, all of its Characters are the Only Ones that I liked about the Movie (even some of them can be a bit Annoying) but my god, was this film such an Interesting Acid Trip.

So while this Film's Target comparison has always been "Shrek" because of the idea of Fairy Tale crossovers, though one thing's for sure is how that this Movie came out 1 Year after the Original Shrek book (which in the Original Story behind one of the Most Successful franchises that we all know as of Today, the Real Shrek was never really a Fairy Tale crossover in the First Place as The Magic Riddle had its own Fairy Tale story despite mostly being its own Cinderella adaptation within a Crossover before "Happily N'Ever After" did it).

Technically, I don't blatantly understand why this Film gets compared to Shrek a whole lot, when there had already been Fairy Tale Crossovers or Ones that took place in a Modern setting, way long before Shrek was even born (I mean, "Into The Woods" or the 70s Donkeyskin Adaptation, anyone?). Still doesn't help the fact that a whole lot of people seem to keep forgetting Into The Woods' existence that the DreamWorks' Shrek actually took the inspiration from (Not putting my own Hate towards the DreamWorks Franchise nor the Book, I'm just showing my own personal stance).

So yeah, because despite this Film's Gigantic Clusterfuck of a Messy Plot that feels so much like Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" but with Fairy Tales, I will admit that this film could've had a much better plot convenience if it wasn't so confusing with its Beautiful Foreign Traditional Animation coming from the same Company behind Famous Australian Kids shows based off of Old Children's Books, this Movie did try its own best but at least it's still a cult classic much of its own.

But I gotta admit one thing, despite this Mashup Adaptation of the Cinderella Fairy Tale being a Confusing Mess, this version of their Cinderella character is really Pretty (both Her Design and her Style is Really Adorable) & since I just couldn’t get enough of her Gorgeous style, I’ve decided to create my own personal re-interpretation of her Ballroom dress from the Movie because I didn’t like on how so cheap and lazy it was all for a simple *Insert Fairy Tale Joke Reference Here*, despite Cindy and her Prince’s Romance being Bland, I really really WISH the Movie could've handled their own Relationship much better and not have them fall in love quick.

So I’ve decided to make her own Ballroom dress a Flower themed while also making it close to how I would view the Real Cinderella’s ballroom dress from the Fairy Tale. Had to do a lot of Changing but it was kinda hard to interpret this but then I finally managed to get it over with as I liked how it turned out to be. Especially for a Pretty Interesting Lead Character in a Bad/Neutral Fairy Tale Movie.

But also of note, I feel like this Movie kinda deserves a Huge Fanbase with Big Rewrites like with Disney’s Wish.

Cindy © Flying Bark Productions (since it’s former title was “Yoram Gross Film Studios”)

#the magic riddle #the magic riddle 1991 #cindy #cindy the magic riddle #the magic riddle cindy #non disney #yoram gross #yoram gross film studios #cinderella #character redesign #ballroom dress

[voskhozhdeniye]

Musical Obsessions 2023

100 gecs: 10,000 gecs*

Aesop Rock: Integrated Tech Solutions

Alice Coltrane, I listen to her more than John now.

ANOHNI and The Johnsons' It Must Change, Rest and Why Am I Alive Now?

bdrmm's Pulling Stitches

Black Belt Eagle Scout: The Land, The Water, The Sky

Bowery Electric, lots of Bowery Electric

Chelsea Wolfe, lots of Chelsea Wolfe

Coil, lots of Coil

The Decemberists' The Rake's Song

Editors' Munich*

Emeralds, lots of Emeralds

Eric Dolphy, lots of Eric Dolphy

Fever Ray: Radical Romantics

Fiddlehead: Death Is Nothing to Us*

Flying Saucer Attack, lots of Flying Saucer Attack

God Body Disconnect: The Weight of Regression

HEALTH: RAT WARS*

The Inevitable Minor Fires: How Do I Miss You At This Remove? Let Me Count The Ways

Interpol's All the Rage Back Home and My Desire*

James Blake's Fall Back and Big Hammer

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: SCARING THE HOES*

Kara Jackson: Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?*

Katie Gately's Bracer

Kelela: Raven

Lovesliescrushing, LOTS of Lovesliescrushing

Mandy, Indiana: i've seen a way*

Matana Roberts: Coin Coin Chapter Five: In the garden…*

Meat Beat Manifesto's Acid Again

My Wet Calvin's XS Underwear

The Orb: The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld

Pan Sonic, lots of Pan Sonic*

Ross Fish: Stasis*

Slowdive: everything is alive

Sudan Archives' Freakalizer (The Egyptian Lover Remix)

SUNN O))), lots of SUNN O)))

Surfer Blood's Gravity

Sweet Trip: Velocity: Design: Comfort.

Thom Nguyên: The Summer Passed in Monotone

Tim Hecker: No Highs

Tod Dockstader: Aerial #1

TYGAPAW: love has never been a popular movement.

Tzusing: 绿帽 Green Hat

Yellow Swans, LOTS of Yellow Swans

Youth Valley: Lullabies For Adults

Zimpel / Ziołek: Zimpel / Ziołek

Zoon: Bekka Ma'iingan

Bold and italicized indicates a favorite released this year.

Matana's is my favorite. I really, really like the Fever Ray album. I forced myself to listen to less music this year than last year. This time last year I was completely fatigued. I broke a lot of habits this year. I have a notebook I've updated yearly since 2011 that lists my first album picked up each year, which albums I had in the car for each month, and every album I've listened to throughout the year that was released that year. Yes, I can tell you what album I had in my car in December 2012. It was Kate Bush's 50 Words For Snow. I didn't keep track of which albums I put in the car this year. I've had various Yellow Swans records in there since October. I also didn't keep track of which 2023 albums I listened to. Last.fm can tell me, but I'm not worried about it.

I have completely stopped listening to the radio, and use Spotify sparsely. My best friends are my external hard drives. I keep identical backups. I don't have THAT much music.

Last year was my jazz year. The goal was to expand beyond the artists I was familiar with. This year was my '90s and early '00s electronic music year. I think I dug a lot more vigorously last year. In fact I said, "Next year I want to start digging through all of the electronic albums the synth bros swear are the most important albums ever made." Some of them I liked, and some of them..... There was a point around June, where I actively recognized my digging around this year wasn't returning as much joy as last year. Autechre, Biosphere, Muslimgauze, and Pan Sonic are the finds whose discographies I've started devouring.

I truly listen to everything, because everything has the potential to be inspiring in someway. The flip side to that is that sometimes I subject myself to stuff I don't like. One of the MTV channels still mainly plays music videos, so sometimes I'll mindlessly watch the latest and greatest music videos to see what's "cool." Most of it is trash. That's how I heard all of these lazy samples people are getting away with.

@knightofleo Andy Stott, sometimes it takes me years to get to recommendations. Yes, you were right. I am taking notes.

I've decided next year I'm going to start with Japanese noise bands and see where they lead me. @the-inevitable-minor-fires and @anarchist-caravan I'm starting with Boris. I've heard very little from them. I'll probably start with Akuma no Uta. I really like Naki Kyoku. Any recommendations from them and other bands to check out? @zombimanos I'm not sure if you go here too, but if so, your input is also welcomed. I am a blank canvas on the subject. It doesn't have to be strictly Japanese noise bands, that's just an area I know has deep veins to mine.

As for my music, I'm drifting between noise and dance. I want my dance tracks to have less structure. If I could describe the sound I'm looking for it's Heart of Aeonia dub. Look up Slowdive's Moussaka Chaos if you haven't heard it. That drunken sound, but more rotted. There's an early Yellow Swans track the eventually evolves into something that sounds like a '90s Busta Ryhmes track. Shackleton also comes to mind. I want to sound murkier, waterlogged. Doom Ambient Techno. This has become a year long project now. I'll make tracks and they feel too far to one side or the other. I planned to do field recordings this year, but never did any away from the house. I might next year.

100 gecs: A now deleted user once said they have no business going so hard. I listen to this a lot at work. Also, hearing a trans woman tell people to suck her dick multiple times puts a smile on my face for some reason.

Editors: I've known this song for years. I have no clue why I suddenly became obsessed with it.

Fiddlehead: I really love the back half of that album.

Interpol: I don't talk about Interpol on here much. Certain Interpol songs make me lose my mind. I intentionally do not listen to them very much.

HEALTH: As a music fan, I like new HEALTH. But goddamn I miss Get Color HEALTH. As a music maker, I listen to new HEALTH and take notes.

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: I hate them. I also wish they mixed their vocals cleaner. I got auditory issues.

Kara Jackson: I am typing this on December 23rd. In December, I relisten to albums released throughout the year in preparation for this list. I listened to Kara's album and Hannah Jadagu's album back to back last week. I've spoken about this many times before, but as a preteen, I wanted to become an artist because I felt like the emotional palette Black people were allowed to express was extremely constricted. As a child I felt that way, 20 plus years later, and now I know you have to scratch beyond the mainstream surface. It's something I still think about a lot, and not just with music. I was much more interested in film when I was younger. Earlier this year, I heard Joe Budden complain about going to a fashion show and all they played was EDM. (I hate that term) He said, there are niggas here, play some Black music. I know that's just who Joe is, but how does he know it wasn't? What does Black music sound like? Kara's Black, is her music not Black? I'm Black, is my music not Black? Are y'all aware there are people who stopped listening to Kanye after Yeezus because it was too White? Like shout out to you for dropping Kanye before the implosion, but what the fuck? I know where these invisible limits on what Black art and even Black people should look like come from, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating to be constantly feeling pressed up against it. As for the album, I love how it starts out simple and slowly adds more complex layers and arrangements. And then you have the title track, which is breathtaking every time. Put down the controller during Elden Ring down every time breathtaking.

Mandy, Indiana: I wish this album went harder. Every time I listen to it there are moments where I'm like MORE! If I can't get Get Color 2 from HEALTH, these guys are a good candidate for it.

Matana Roberts: I feel like Matana deserves a completely separate post for an essay exclusively about her. I'm so glad she's doing this. Her and Aesop occupy a very strange space for me. I actually get nervous when they announce new music. I always have such high hopes. They always deliver, but there's always that thought of how have they evolved since their last release? Yes, I'm aware of how pretentious this sounds. I don't care. I've had many favorite artists evolve to places it's hard to follow, 1980's Miles Davis for example. Hearing her evolution has been a joy, Aesop's too. I listen to Coin Coin Three the most. That's a taking notes album, but I think this is probably her best one. This one feels more intimate to me than the others. Whenever I listen to the album I think about the very ugly fight for abortion and bodily autonomy that's happening here right now, and the gender gap that men know exists, but like racism, must be confronted if acknowledged. So society ignores it, even though it shapes everything about our lives. Throughout the album she repeats the line, "We remember, they forget." The rapes, the abortions, the morning sickness, the second class status, and so on. The women remember what was done to their bodies. The men casually forget.

Pan Sonic: My favorite find going through '90s electronic. I am retooling the modulars to incorporate ideas I've gotten from listening to them. 2024 is violence.

Ross Fish: He created those two noise synths I grabbed this year. I posted the music video for Drugs and Sex on here over the summer. This is a whole fucking mood. His Youtube channel is one of those he's just like me frfr moments. I'm worried about his mental health.

Last year's list

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

The Ritual - Darth Maul x Reader

Pairing: Darth Maul x Reader (AFAB Cis), Fanged God as Maul/Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,914 words Warnings: Edgeplay, Knife/Talon Play, Blood Play/Kink, Choking/Asphyxiation, Bondage, Degradation, D/s overtones, Sacred Sex/Heiros Gamos, P in V, Nightsister Magic, Revival of Ancient Dathomiri Culture/Customs, Alien Biology, Cybernetics in full effect (Robo Cock), Early Crimson Dawn Era, Deity Possession, no use of y/n Notes: For @grinningnexu 🖤❤️🖤

Summary:

The new Lord of Dathomir is set on reviving and bastardizing ancient traditions, and you, a Priestess, are intent on doing your job — no matter how off-putting he is.

There is only one rule you need to remember: the Gods must be appeased.

Excerpt below or Read the full fic at Ao3 >

Foreword —

Etched into the walls of the Red Grotto, stoic beneath the dripping walls and calcified creeper that drape the ancient parts of the cave system beneath the mountain, markings made by nimble Nightbrother fingers tell a story in pictures:

A zabrak descended from the cliffside, a crown of horns on his head, to be bathed in the springs by careful hands of his consorts, reborn and renewed after the hunt.  

The drawings, etched in hydraatis acid, have withstood three millennia of change above, from witches to the Nightsisters to their Brothers’ reclaiming, and yet remain:

This is Dathomir, at its deepest heart.

And like the darkness that gathers here, where the whispers of ancient voices can still be heard when the waters are stirred, some things endure:

The ritual has never changed.

But the King will reign once more.

The Red Grotto, Dathomir —

There’s no one here. 

That’s your first thought after tripping down the last set of spiralling stone stairs and nearly upending the tray of salts and oils and soaps you were tasked to bring into the bathing chambers, expecting his return from the westernmost swamps from a rancor hunt. As if anyone did that anymore. More ritual and pomp, you thought. Something to appease the halls full of guests from the syndicates because some traditions kept the kitchens staffed and everyone else fed, but —

No one expected he’d actually go through with that ancient Dathomiri custom: a rancor hunt to feed a full hall of people but also to demonstrate a Nightbrother’s prowess; his virility.

The thing is… you’ve heard rumours about him:

How he was split in half from the waist down years ago by an adversary in a battle that ended with his supposed death. He came back, didn’t he? Just like he came back to Dathomir after so many years. 

You let out a breath, taking in the dripping walls overtaken by vines and leaves that appear to breathe and shiver in the dim brazier light; the enormous bathing pools of various temperatures fed by the springs, some steaming and murky, others cool and wafting mist. Only the patter of the waterfall on stone on the grottos edges settle your nerves. The sound is unending; a constant rainfall under the phosphor of glowworms clinging to the foliage draping from the ceilings.

It’s beautiful. Too quiet, almost, because you know the ichor has been restless since he got here. Too serene for its new owner.

Now here you are and here he isn’t.

The ‘him’ in question isn’t so much a man as he is a monster, or so his renown would suggest: the new leader and face of the Dawn who’d set up operations on his homeworld, along with a retinue who’d attend him, and all his little syndicate minions.

You took your occupation and the handsome pay that came with it with the understanding that your service required a combination of discretion, secrecy, and decorum. You’ve never met him. You’ve only heard the stories:

The Son of Dathomir is indifferent to the pleasures of the consorts the Black Sun brought with them, and he has no mind for leisurely decadence like dining or drinking or even bathing in the ceremonial waters below the mountain. 

A King is still a king if only in name, you remind yourself. Even if he is a bloodthirsty monster.

You set down your tray. The bottles tink together, and you scrunch your nose at the luxury. You’re familiar with all of them: mixtures with various potencies to ease aching muscles and render someone euphoric, to cool the skin and to warm it, and a special salve made especially for legs built from durasteel: a mixture to ensure fluidity in the joints and protect it from the humidity. 

You blended it yourself on the twelfth moon, with ingredients fresh from the apothecary in the Night Market. It’s perfect. It’s precious. Picking it up, the ointment coats the inside of the transparisteel, as thick and potent as the night you prepared it. 

A little gift meant for someone half-cybernetic. 

A token. A thank you. Not to curry favour, but…

Dathomir hasn’t been the same since he returned, you think.

In many ways, with so many new faces — laughter in the hallways and revels waking the daylight on so many evenings — it’s better. Different, but alive again.

Sighing, you replace the jar, thinking about wasted ingredients and wasted time. 

Silly tokens.

Silly girl, you think. 

This is stupid — this fear, this nervousness. 

You were assigned a task for which you were prepared to do whatever necessary to appease the man, and were given leave for it, and he’s not here. You’ve hours at your disposal, and glaring up into the cavernous space of the grotto with your hands on your hips, you arrive at a decision as the damp seeps beneath your dress:

The grotto is ancient, and sacred, and private.

No one will disturb you here.

You might as well enjoy it...

Read the rest at Ao3 >

#Darth Maul #Maul #Darth Maul Smut #Darth Maul Fanfic #Darth Maul x Reader #Darth Maul x You #Maul x Reader #Maul x You #Star Wars Smut #Star Wars Fanfic #dathomir #Dathomirian #Crimson Dawn #Crime Daddy #AFAB Reader #AFAB Cis Reader #Zabrak #D/s #Heiros Gamos #Fanged God #Mortis Gods #Son of Dathomir #Maul Fanfic #Maul Smut

[fumblingmusings]

okay so I have a lot more to say about the whole fic (I just have very little free time at the moment) but Evelyn asking "May I go?" is so baby girl little sister of her, if I was Alasdair, I would have folded

You got me in my sibling feels. Those two are the best truly. Inextricably tied up together and flip flopping between extreme kindness and extreme cruelty. Baby sister cries very good crocodile tears but big brother has a permanent chip on his shoulder and they do love each other they do but by God those above do not make it easy. Oh gosh I wrote a wee fic. Have a post Norman Conquest Fem!England and Scotland - or whatever they were known as - in 1070. The North is starving, Scotland has the last Anglo-Saxon royals to himself, and the new king wants his nation back.

*****

“Ali?”

“Aye?”

“Are they really going to marry?”

“Think so. Your old King promised, remember?”

“Did he? He didn’t tell me. Edward promised a lot of people a lot of things and look where that has led me… But will he be nice to her? Your King?”

“‘Course he will. And we get a Queen descended from Gods.”

“So they say. Margaret is my last princess. Cristina wants to join an abbey. Edgar will never be allowed to marry. Margaret - ”

“I know. We’ll look after her. I promise.”

“Malcolm better treat her well or I will be very angry.”

“I believe you.”

Despite there being a perfectly suitable mule for England to sit on for this journey south to York, she had instead elected to be carried on her brother’s back. She was nuzzled into his neck, voice muffled against the thick wool of his cloak. She clung tightly, but her eyes were drooping from exhaustion. The road was barely maintained. A foul smell of burning, of acid, of burning peat and manure, had seemingly followed the pair since they had crossed the border into Northumbria. They were still a day's walk from York, and the smell had not yet abated. 

Eva used to insist that Yorkshire was beautiful - full of heather and gorse and sweeping greenery. Alasdair knew she was right, he had seen it himself many times. 

It was almost impressive, if Scotland did not have the weak after-effects straddling his back, noting how destructive this new King could be. Would others imitate such tactics?

They had met very few people on the journey south. Those that remained did not have the strength to trip and rob a pair of children on a long road to York.

Eva shifted against her brother’s back.

“Ali?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any food?”

“You still hungry?”

Her tiny head moved against his shoulder. As if by magic, her stomach gave off a terrible rumble.

Alasdair stopped in his walk, bending down at the knees so the eight year old could slide off. He himself was not much older in appearance, a thirteen year old at best. His little sister took his hand, reluctant to let go. She would have to eventually. It had been a deal struck in recent months. The marriage between Margaret and Malcolm was to be accepted by the Norman King. He just wanted to finally see the little nation that he was now King of. No longer just a Duke loyal to a French King, but a King too in his own right. He was owed her.

Scotland did not have the will to fight for her. None of the siblings did. Wales was splintered once more, having cut his first and only King’s head off. Ireland was a sea away, watching and accepting those that came her way, but otherwise taking no action. Only Scotland, with some feeble attempts at pillaging an already broken land, had made an attempt to restore the Anglo-Saxons to the throne. It was not enough, so Eva had stared at her brother, watching as his King agreed, and simply asked that, if she were to return to her people, that Alasdair walk her halfway, to York. 

He had agreed. Those big green eyes were a mirror of mother, and mother could have made him promise anything, if he thought it would have made her proud. Not the case with this wee one, who had the appearance of a small drowned rat. Pitiful, a little dirty, shining eyes. 

In comparison to her brother, who was tall, strong, and with a King who retook the throne from usurpers with such comparable ease. Malcolm had done what Edgar could not. And now Malcolm was taking England's last princess, the others married off to Kyiv or Scandanavia, in his efforts to put Scotland firmly on the map of Europe. It was pragmatic and rather ruthless, but Alasdair could tell he meant well. A strong king was a good king, even if it meant sometimes things got a little bloody.

Looking around the wasteland however, bloody and slaughter seemed as far apart as chalk and cheese. Alasdair could not shake the feeling that he was handing his sister over to her doom, but it was not for him to fight. A threat of invasion from Norman knights was not something he could face alone. One person in exchange for his own safety was something the siblings had all learned to accept. Mama told them: their people come first. Always.

“They burned it all. Everything. Poured salt on the earth and we cannot grow anything anymore,” Eva whispered, clinging tightly to his hand and peering upwards as he rummaged through the bags of supplies the mule was carrying. 

“You’ll still be hungry even after this,” he explained, ignoring her statements, pulling out dried pears. When she tried to snatch one, utterly ravenous, Alasdair held his arm up high, far out of reach. She cried out, hopping from foot to foot.

“Gremlin!” she complained, headbutting him repeatedly.

“You need to ask kindly.”

She pressed her head deep into his gut. “Oh! Alasdair, please may I have some food.”

“Ah, there we are,” he tossed the pear slices up in the air, and she caught them with a squeak, stuffing her face with them and chewing loudly. Her brother was right however, and her stomach continued to cramp. She moaned, forever hungry and forever unsatiated.

Growling in frustration, she went to look through the bags herself. Effortlessly, Alasdair simply picked her up and tossed her back a few steps. She cried out, then ran straight at Scotland, once again ramming her blonde head into his stomach. He puffed out a breath, then grappled with her to stop the tantrum.

“Listen, listen to me.”

She paused her attack, and Alasdair urged, “Look around, alright? Dinnae forget what they did. When we get to York and I leave, promise me. Promise me that you will spit in his eye.”

“That is easy for you to say, you have lost nothing in this mess.”

Eva stared at the muddy road. Her blue dress was ruined at its hem, splatters all the way up to her waist. William would be disappointed, when she would finally reach York, at what his nation was. A little rat.

(A little robin bird, Æthelflæd had called her)

“They say he is a giant. A giant bastard,” England changed the subject with a hiss.

“Did you see him at Hastings?”

“No. I saw Harold’s eye be pierced, from atop the hill. I hid in the trees. They tossed his body out to sea. His mother had asked for it so he could be buried, and they just threw him into the water. I never saw the bastard.”

The bastard. That was all he ever was. Not the English William or the French Guillaume or the Norman Willelm. Just the bastard.

Smirking, Scotland said, “I heard he beat his wife to make her agree to marry him.”

“Ali!” she cried out, snatching another piece of pear away as he held out his arm. “I know he is a monster, you need not remind me.”

“Naw, listen. A man like that will hurt even the ones he loves, you cannae trust him. Okay? So there is nae point in appeasing him. He’ll treat you like nothing regardless. So make not a single effort to even try to be good for him, alright?”

Eva paused, chewing around the pear, then threw her arms around Ali’s waist. He knelt down, picking her up and placing her on the mule. She refused to let go, keeping her iron grip around his neck.

“What if they,” she sobbed, “what if they make me something awful? And everyone says I’m not like you or Rhys anymore but I… I cannot abide the thought of being French.”

Alasdair laughed.

“Come on hen, it’s nae that bad.”

“Look around! Everyone starved! He did not just kill on the battlefield, he did not execute traitors, he burnt and poisoned the land and left my people to rot. There is no honour in this… Ali I haven’t been this frightened since Mama…”

“Dinnae…” he moaned, extricating himself from her grip. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” Huge green eyes blinked at the rejection, fat wet tears falling down her cheeks. 

Unsure of what to do, he had never been very good at comfort, that was Rhys’ job.

“You remember, how dogs and cats get when cornered? They’re frightened but they still fight back.”

“I’m not a dog,” she whimpered.

“Naw. Too ugly for that.”

Eva sniffed, unamused. Alasdair tugged on the mule’s reins, and the two set off once more. England continued crying to herself. Quietly, pitifully, she sobbed, and Alasdair fought the urge to turn the mule around and go back from where they came. 

It would fix nothing. There was nothing that they could fix. 

“You gotta learn to fight back Eva,” he declared, listening to the squelch of mud as they walked along. “That is the only way. Didn’t Alfred teach you that?”

Her cries quietened, and Alasdair heard, rather than saw, her nod. He dared to smile.

“So be sure to spit in his face.”

“...Promise,” she whispered.

*****

Assorted Turn of the 11th Century British History Ramblings Below:

So, in 1070, King Malcolm of Scotland, after a couple of failed attempts to get the last Anglo-Saxon prince - Edgar - back on the throne of England following the Norman invasion, married Edgar's sister Margaret. Malcolm's father, you may be interested to know, was Duncan, i.e. the King that Macbeth axes in Shakespeare's play. Indeed, Macbeth was King before Malcolm killed him and Malcolm was also responsible for axing Macbeth's stepson (you kill my dad I'll kill you etc., etc...). The English, prior to the invasion of the Normans, had helped put Malcolm and his family back on the throne, so the relationship between the Anglo-Saxons and Scottish royal families at this time was quite close. The Normans saw an end to that, when a couple of years later they invaded Scotland and got Malcolm to swear allegiance to Willian and expel Edgar. This oath is the basis for future invasions by English Kings like Edward I and II. In some real cultural fuckery, Malcolm and Margaret's daughter later married William's grandson in a deliberate attempt to pacify the English. Look! Alfred the Great's blood is still on the throne. Please chill.

Margaret is one of the most important Queens in Scottish history, and certainly pre-1500 she is the most important. She was eventually canonised as a saint, and several towns and sites are named after her (if you know much Scottish history you may recognise North and South Queensferry as places of note, and she is deified in my hometown). The royal house Margaret came from held a lot of weight in its name - the family had ties to Scandinavia, Kyiv, Hungary, France and the Holy Roman Empire - marrying her gave the Scottish Crown a lot of symbolic legitimacy. They were the real inheritors of Britain, not the Normans. Margaret named her sons after her male (and English - Edgar, Edward, Edmund etc.,) relatives or biblical names (Alexander and David). Not a Gàidhlig name in sight. Malcolm was apparently smitten by his wife and gave her free reign of the place, at the expense of Scottish culture. Everyone thought she was the bees knees.

Wales at this time had splintered into smaller kingdoms following the death of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn. His incursions into England had resulted in his own men turning on him, cutting of his head and posting it to Edward the Confessor. When Edward died and the Normans arrived, they found themselves with a disunited Wales, and in the following decades the invasions into Wales began in earnest. Many of the fleeing Anglo-Saxon or Welsh lords went to Ireland - this would contribute to later invasions by the Normans of Ireland.

The Normans, by the by, had done the grim action in the winter of 1069/70 of burning and salting the land of northern England following months of rebellions up and down the country. From the River Humber to the River Tees, the Harrying of the North resulted in three quarters of the population either starving to death or being forced to flee north to Scotland or south to the Midlands. There's records of people selling family members into slavery in order to survive, and when the Domesday book was compiled nearly twenty years later to calculate the taxable worth of William the Conqueror's new kingdom, up to two thirds of Yorkshire (England's biggest county by far) was noted as still being wasteland. Even at the time, on the continent we know that within Germany they spoke of a great famine in England resulting in cannibalism, and in Bohemia there was talk of the barbarity committed by the Normans in England, and finally the Pope received flack for signing off on the invasion in the first place, so even for the time people thought it was 'too much'. Back home a chronicler at Evesham Abbey in the Midlands wrote of refugees arriving after travelling hundreds of miles, only to die after eating too much too quickly:

“Every day five or six people, sometime more, perished miserably and were buried by the prior of this place.”

So. Grim. Also yes William did beat up his future wife and threaten her into marrying him, or at the very least yanked her by the hair into the mud then rode off like a dick. Apparently they were very happy together so. No comment.

#hetalia #hws england #hws scotland #historical hetalia #fem!england #fanfic #op #q&a #i wrote this in three hours excuse typos pls

[madamspeaker]

Bob Weir was cold.

It was a partly cloudy July night and temperatures were falling as Dead & Co. played before tens of thousands of fans in San Francisco, ancestral home of the band’s legendary forebear, the Grateful Dead.

Typical summer weather in the city, and Nancy Pelosi knew what to do.

Socks, she told the Birkenstock-shod guitarist on a visit backstage. And a hat.

It may be easier to picture the former speaker, still one of America’s most influential women, surrounded by suits and wingtips than beads and sandals. But Pelosi, who grew up listening to opera waft through the streets of Baltimore’s Little Italy, is a genuine tie-dyed in the wool Deadhead, as cultists and aficionados of the group are known.

She’s friends with Weir and drummer Mickey Hart, having seen the Dead and assorted iterations more times than she remembers. On several occasions, the elegantly styled lawmaker has been seen dancing in the wings, 4-inch heels and all.

It wasn’t certain she’d make the band’s valedictory performance that night, one of the last of Dead & Co.’s recently concluded farewell tour. The House of Representatives was pitching another fit, with balky Republicans acting up, must-pass legislation stalled and restless lawmakers anxiously eyeing the exits.

But in the end, the House approved the necessary defense spending bill with time to spare and Pelosi easily made it home for the Friday night show, mingling with the band and scoring the evening’s set list as a souvenir.

When Weir returned for the second half he was still sockless.

But he had on a hat.

Going through a closet not long ago, Pelosi came across a “Deadheads for Dukakis” purse from the 1988 presidential campaign; she was a freshman lawmaker at the time.

Nearly 20 years later, several of the band’s alumni played at a Washington gala celebrating Pelosi’s path-breaking election as speaker. (A review describes an uptight audience mostly sitting on its hands, though “Iko Iko,” the New Orleans standard, finally got some of the Beltway slugs moving.)

Hart was in the House gallery watching as Pelosi claimed the speakers’ gavel for a second time in 2019.

How and when did they meet? “I haven’t the faintest idea,” she says. Over the decades, San Francisco’s yeasty music and political scenes have blurred together, though, no, it’s not because of some bad acid.

It’s been a long, historic trip.

“They’re wonderful musicians,” Pelosi said of the Dead and company, putting a lie to the notion — propounded mostly by haters — that the group’s kaleidoscopic catalog can only be enjoyed in a drunken stupor or chemically induced haze. (Pelosi doesn’t drink and has never used drugs.) “It’s great music.”

Maybe it’s a congressional Democrat thing.

The late Harry Reid, another teetotaler and a Senate leader when Pelosi was speaker, had a Dead poster signed by the entire band hanging in his home in Searchlight, Nev. He called it his “prize possession.”

Perusing the menu at San Francisco’s Delancey Street Restaurant — a favorite of local politicians, staffed by ex-convicts and recovering addicts — Pelosi savors the freedom of life as just another member of the House.

“You have to remember,” she says, “that for 20 years, either as speaker or [minority] leader, I was responsible for everything that happened on the floor ... in terms of what happened with the Democrats ... and I didn’t even realize that it was a burden until it was gone and I was like, ‘Oh, my God. What a relief.’ ”

She continues studying the menu.

“I still, obviously, take an interest in the legislation,” Pelosi goes on, “and I still raise money for the Democrats,” though not the $1 million a day she pulled in as speaker. “It’s a completely different story.”

Other diners crane to see the celebrity in their midst, seated in a booth slightly away from the main dining area.

Orders are placed. Soon lunch arrives, an international smorgasbord of latkes, kale salad, a chicken quesadilla and matzo ball soup.

“Liberated” and “emancipated” are words Pelosi often uses in her new incarnation. She’s started on a book — not a memoir, but an account of certain decisions. Her husband, Paul, continues healing from the ghastly hammer attack by a QAnon crazy who broke into their San Francisco home last fall, looking to take the ex-speaker hostage.

Will she run again next year for a 19th term, something many in this politically hyperactive city are panting to find out? “I have to make up my mind,” Pelosi responds, purposely opaque, “and then see what I want to do.”

Back to music.

She ran a finger along the crumpled set list pointing to several favorites — “Fire On The Mountain,” “Ramble On Rose,” the trippy sound-collage “Drums/Space” and “Standing On The Moon,” with its indigenous lyric:

Somewhere in San Francisco/ On a back porch in July/ Just looking up to heaven/ At this crescent in the sky.

So beautiful, Pelosi rhapsodized, “I could listen to it forever.”

When it comes to music, Pelosi says, she’s something of an omnivore, with an appetite for “everything from rap to opera.” Drake, Taylor Swift, U2, Keith Urban, Elton John, Metallica, Stevie Wonder.

The Democrat is on a first-name basis with Bono and Cyndi Lauper as well as the other Paul and Nancy. (That would be McCartney and his wife Nancy Shevall.)

She’s hard-pressed to pick a favorite show of all time, but recounts seeing Bob Dylan with the Rolling Stones in Argentina — the “Bridges to Babylon Tour,” Pelosi specifies. She brought along a fellow Democrat, former New York Rep. Nita Lowey, who was seeing her first rock concert. (Naturally the performance included “Like A Rolling Stone.”)

At one point during the show there was an announcement, Pelosi says, seeking donations to fight HIV and AIDS. A young man circulated through the crowd and after receiving a contribution from Lowey, handed her a thank-you gift. “She’s like, ‘I don’t know what this is,’” Pelosi recalls, “‘it’s all in Spanish.’”

A pause.

“Condoms!” Pelosi exclaims.

The dishes are cleared. Time for dessert.

Pelosi considers the profiteroles, but abstains. She had three peppermint patties on the way to lunch, she confesses, and ice cream for breakfast.

These are fraught times. She turns serious.

“I’m a strong believer that the arts are the secret, our best hope for the future,” Pelosi says.

She describes the warm reception she received years ago when she was introduced at a Barbra Streisand concert.

“In that audience ... they’re not there because they’re Democrats. You’ve got a very mixed group of people. And it just completely drove home the point ... which is that [music] is a unifier. People forget their differences, they don’t even think of it. They laugh together, cry together, are inspired together, find common ground together and I do think that’s our hope.”

“That’s our hope,” she repeats.

#nancy pelosi #madam speaker

[frozen-fountain]

*rubs hands together in delight*

Book you think about at 3am, great book with a terrible cover, book that made you trip on literary acid, favourite book of 2020 (or just lately if easier)

9. Your favourite book of 2020

I thiiiink it was 2020 that I read The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, which henceforth became probably my favourite novel. I'm not sure if I read anything actually released in that year.

14. A book that made you trip on literary acid

Anything by Jorge Luis Borges. I don't think any brief, pithy description here can do him justice.

60. A book you think about at 3am

Lately it's been Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, which was my last long-form non-fiction read. A lot of mycelial and poetically drawn connection to dwell on, for a long time. One I highly recommend to the Braiding Sweetgrass enjoyers who follow this blog.

73. A great book with a terrible cover

This is timely, because I was shilling this series in a Discord conversation the other day and mourning how horribly under-recognised it is. I'm talking about one of my favourite fantasies that hardly anyone seems to have read, Carol Berg's Rai-Kirah trilogy. If you like dark, character-driven fantasy that features unique and memorable worldbuilding, blends politicking with magic and adventure seamlessly, keeps you guessing, and actually has a cohesive ending, this might be for you.

As for why it might have flown under the radar so badly:

Look at this absolute state of this. I wouldn't want to be seen reading this cheesy Christian fantasy CGI nightmare either. Most egregiously of all, the series' lead character is described explicitly and repeatedly as copper-skinned, which you'll never see reflected on any of the generic white fantasy stock images they've slapped on these books. If I had a lot of money, I'd buy the rights and rerelease them to a hopefully receptive audience with the glorious covers they deserve.

#hrh-spinach #thank you!

[betweenthetimeandsound]

""Angel"", he calls me Does he know that I'm falling? From a precipice that I tripped off long ago?" -- the fruits, Paris Paloma

I drink sweet wine from your hands, grown out of grapes from a secret garden, one not guarded by gods, but overgrowing like dandelions in a derelict desert. You rock me in your arms as I close my eyes, letting my soul leave on a trip while I relish in gentle touches, which leave nail marks and plum-like sploches across my skin.

You stroke my temple, your thumb tangled in my hair. You mastered tenderness in a way an angel would not know, for their golden eyes can pierce arteries and snap bones like olive branches. You lick your lips, marveling at how mine glow like poisoned apples, oozing like a ripe pomegranate after a crisp autumn.

Like a vampire, you find you way into my blood. Like a wild deer, I leap and retreat from the distant clearing,

finding an escape route through my own hind legs, hoping the end of the world isn't too far away.

What will happen if you find your way between my legs? Will you find a garden of ravishing, scarlet treats, or will you only be left in burning tears, lamenting in your naivete?

Candied sweetness is the currency needed to attract wayward travelers; eyes of a sparkling sea, hair drifting like a cloud. A wavering silence which lets the sparrows sing their own symphonies, or a possible requiem, for what has been conceived under a winding spire.

"Three Leahs for one Rachel"-- but I'm myself, in a willow's trunk. I never saw myself dying for someone else's birth; I knew it when a rock hovered over my face, and an offering was made for all lovers. Years will pass, but I still remember that bergamot kiss--acidic and bitter, lingering in my mouth as I take others in, where not even vinegar and salt can heal. --Elda Mengisto

#poetry #my poetry #poets on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #affair #trauma #poetry inspired by music #napowrimo #i suddenly thought of tess of the d'urbervilles #i don't know why #the juxtaposition of innocence and sin is curious #poeticstories #lust #trust #writingthestorm

[aberfaeth]

top five fics (ever. for a fandom/pairing. by people you know. by strangers. whatever u want go crazy) ORRRR top five fob songs bc I know u and ilu and I wanna hear ur thoughts

hi sav. hope you know what you've unleashed here.

TOP FIVE FICS.....EVER

tell me about the big bang (star wars sequel trilogy, Finn/Poe, 37.8k.) i made my mom read this fic and that's not a bit i literally had her read this. and she isn't even a star wars fan. like she's seen tfa but she wasn't even that into it i just made her read this because it's one of humanity's greatest literary achievements and she still brings it up to me in conversation that's how much she enjoyed it. sorry this turned into more of tmatbb being one of my mom's top five fics but yknow. context. anyways i don't want to say too much about it because i don't want to spoil it for anyone who might check it out which Please Do That but suffice to say. it is a work of fucking art and i can only hope to someday write with half the talent nina varela possesses in her pinky finger

darling i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to (the great pretender season 1, Laurent/Makoto, 11k.) swear to god this isn't me sucking up it is still the best gift i have ever received in my life. hey you reading this have you ever conceptualized a fic and went "boy i wish i could feed this into a machine and it would execute the idea perfectly in a way that managed to surprise and delight me as i read it" well you simply must get yourself a sav. because she will do that for you. anyways watch tgp season one literally just to read this fic.

Be Gay; Solve Crime (american vandal, Peter/Sam, 9.2k.) this fic has everything--outsider POV! perfectly in character banter! angie and michael who are real and canon to me! mr fernandez did you eat shit! gay lou carter! do your string thing man! MING, EVEN!!!!!! consider this a rotating spot for the work of my lovely lovely friends in the hanover high AV club, who have churned out some of the bangers of all fucking time which i talked about some of those in a top five ask four calendar years ago

Over & Through (dimension 20 fantasy high, gen, 62.7k.) also made my mom read this. she got the riz chapter first and said it gave her horrifying acid trip dreams. which is honestly so fair. if you are a dimension 20 fan and you haven't read this fic what are you doing. the form is inventive the prose is stunning the characterization is painfully sharp. if you've been watching neverafter going hey i wish this was actually horror READ THIS RIGHT NOW THE HORROR IS IMMACULATE

If You Could Let Me Inside Your Heart (leverage, ot3, 2.5k.) remains my favorite leverage fic of all time and also my favorite group character study. what a lovely premise and executed with such grace and perfect understanding of character and pacing like so much work is done for its length and GOD IS IT ALL GORGEOUS

okay haha onto the fall out boy--JUST KIDDING. I HOPE YOU HAD YOUR WEAPON READY TO TAKE ME OUT BECAUSE ONE TIME I SAID IF I EVER MADE A RECLIST WITHOUT I HATE TO LOOK INTO THOSE EYES AND SEE AN OUNCE OF PAIN YOU WOULD HAVE TO SHOOT ME BECAUSE I'D BE A POD PERSON. SO HERE'S ME DOING THAT, PLEASE READ IT, READ IT NOW. WHAT FANDOM OR PAIRING OR LENGTH? YOU GET TO FIND OUT WHEN YOU CLICK! THAT! LINK!

okay haha onto the fall out boy. so i earnestly did try to come up with my top five fob songs on my own. then i had a breakdown and filled out the whole damn fob song sorter yes all 500 battles. heres my top 25. note the repetition of numbers indicating my inability to make decisions

elaborations on the medal winners:

THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT: when this song came out i was thirteen years old (in middle school) (did not have my own itunes account) (did not have spotify) and as all songs do it was released at midnight (i was thirteen) (supposed to be asleep) (it was a school night) i hid under the covers with my ipod touch on the lowest brightness setting (supposed to be asleep on a school night) midnight arrived and i could not buy the song on itunes because then my parents would get an email about the purchase and know i had stayed up (i was supposed to be asleep) so i just listened to the 30 second preview on itunes for like an hour straight (i cried) (a lot)

THE (SHIPPED) GOLD STANDARD: me for real bc im literally no good at math

(COFFEE'S FOR CLOSERS): also in middle school i used to doodle song lyrics to keep myself focused during class and my history professor was taking a walk around the classroom and spotted my doodle of a little coffee cup with the lyrics "i will never believe in anything again" and went "aw why not," clearly concerned for my mental health and wellbeing. and despite that horribly traumatizing experience, coffee's for closers remains one of my favorite songs in the world. so thats proof that its really very good

OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS IN THE WORLD: you only hold me up like thiiiiis cause you don't know who i really aAAaaAAAaam

PAVLOVE: sorry its the quirky girl tendencies again. when will they put this on spotify so i can scream my little heart out to I WANT TO MAKE YOU AS LONELY AS MEEEE SO YOU CAN GET GET ADDICTED TO THIS YOU CAN GET GET ADDICTED TO THIS! anyways folie >

now, a disclaimer: this sorter is obviously older than two weeks and thus does not include the songs off SMFS. i feel like recency bias means i can't accurately fit them into the list but i will say that there is no universe in which hold me like a grudge doesn't make top fifteen

if you've reached the end of this post, thanks for going on this journey with me. i meant to be asleep an hour ago. but i did this instead. was it worth it. well whos to say. if you ended up reading IHTLITEASAOOP then yes it was.

#hi sav youre my favorite person on the planet hi everyone else i am. sorry #c.ask

[fall-of-enselia]

Hi, I’m Bleu, and welcome to my other blog! This one’s simply to keep track of all my FoE stuff, as well as allow suggestions from outsiders as to how I should continue the story. Here’s a basic description and some rules (Please read the full post, if you have the time)

General Summary

15 year old Emberlyn Sharp has just lived through the worst year of her life. Her parents just got a divorce, her sister went off to college on the other side of the country, her best friend moved away, she has to spend every day in English literature sitting shoulder to shoulder with her god awful excuse of an “ex girlfriend,” and worst of all, strange, almost paranormal events have been happening all around town. People are waking up to their mailboxes dissolved into acidic black sludge. Completely unidentifiable plants are showing up everywhere. But worst of all, a mysterious crystal she found in the woods when she was little starts making these god-awful screeching noises every time she opens its case.

Conveniently, suspiciously, around this time, a rumor starts spreading around the school that hidden within the restricted section of the library, there rests an old book containing a spell that will send anyone unfortunate enough to read its pages to hell. Now, under normal circumstances, Emberlyn would pass these rumors as a load of bullcrap, but with all the weird, paranormal events going on around her, her curiosity can’t help but be sparked. So, with a fully-packed suitcase, her mysterious screaming rock, and some help from the other school designated weird girl, she brakes into the school, and makes her trip to the library at 10:00 o’clock at night.

Little did she know, all those rumors would turn out to be true. Well, minus the portal to hell part.

Instead of hell, the floor gives way to a completely new world. One that is undeniably beautiful, but torn to shreds by war, disease, and natural disasters. She is thrust headfirst into a wasteland of warring nations, a plague that causes people to grow poisonous flowers out of their bodies, shadow demons falling from the sun, colonialism, and a crooked world history built upon lies. All tracing back to a god amongst gods who calls herself Enselia, hell-bent on tearing this world to shreds. But why, if Enselia is the high celestial, a creature whose duty is to be the all-seeing-eye and protector of this place, be trying to destroy it? Why does she hate this place so much? And is she even supposed to be the high celestial all along? Well, this angry little lesbian and five other cool people wanted dead by god are about to find out!

Oh yeah, and that screaming rock of hers? Turns out it’s a sentient dagger with enough energy to cause the highest of high celestials to spontaneously combust! How fun :D

Planning

So, my plans for this absolute mess of a series is to make it into a webcomic series, and a rather expansive one at that! Yes, I did say series. I intend to make Fall of Enselia into a multi-volume series with a planned 6-7 books (not including side material.) I doubt it’ll ever go into print, but it still feels more natural to me to structure each page and book like a physical comic book, so sadly, you’re not getting any infinite scrolls from me. If you’re wondering where you’ll be able to find it, I’ll be posting each chapter on Webtoon under the username Im_Tired1124. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep a consistent update schedule, but my current plan is to try and post one chapter every two months once I get the storyboards, script, and plot nailed down. As of writing this, I’m still working on the storyboard and script for the prologue of book one. Though I’ve had this story slowly forming in my head for about 2-4 years now, I kind of did the thing where you write down nothing about your story, while planning out every book, character beat, villain motivation, animated spin-off, and anime opening for your story lol. It’s definitely not going to be out for a while, but my current plan is to, hopefully, get the prologue and first three chapters published in the timeframe of July-December of 2024. In the meantime, I’ll be using this account to publish concept art, reference sheets, work in progress, and lore notes while working on the main event. It should also come with the expectation that I probably won’t be posting on my main account as much.(granted, I tend to be slow as hell with drawing, and posting things on there anyway) So, as much as it may pain me, I’m going to have to go on hiatus with my Omori fanart. And also probably my fanfiction, but hey, don’t tell anyone I said that!

Granted, I will let little bits of FoE content slip through on my main account, but most of them are probably gonna be more on the unofficial content/shitposty side (maybe even a spoiler here and there :)). This is where all the juicy story stuff goes!

Do’s and Do Not’s

Alright, here’s where all my rules for the series go!

You have my full permission to:

Make fanart

Form headcanons

Cosplay my characters

Make OC’s

Write fanfictions (so long as they are appropriate)

Order commissions of my characters (I don’t have a PayPal rn, so everything is free for now, yay!)

Draw them with other characters/your own OC’s

Take inspiration from my OC’s and comics

Give me advice on writing, send me sources on how to accurately represent different cultures, and tell me if I’ve accidentally done anything wrong or offensive. This story revolves heavily around different cultures and marginalized people trying to resist oppression and forced hegemony. However, I am fully aware that as a moderately culturally detatched half-Jamaican who hasn’t had to face too much racism or scrutiny for my appearance and cultural background, I can very easily screw things up. So, constructive criticism is always welcome ^•^

Ship my characters, I couldn’t give less of a shit! Just don’t turn anyone’s family tree into a family wreath, or get any of my OC’s arrested.

Genuinely, I have no problem with fan works, and I’d be absolutely overjoyed to see people engaging in my work in these ways! However I do still have standards within my ToS, so…

Things you may NOT do with my creative works (and just general stuff you shouldn’t do):

Trace or steal my art or OC’s

Use my characters in insensitive, harmful, bigoted, or political material.

“Reference” my works to the point you’ve just made the Wish.com knockoff of my OC’s.

Stalk, harass, or send death threats to people who disagree with you, or myself. Y’all should know better than that.

Spread misinformation about myself, my motives, the story, or other people I associate with just because you don’t like them. You have better things to do with your life, so stop making shit up and go outside. Don’t like, don’t engage.

For the love of Mangoes, under no circumstances is anyone allowed to make NSFW of my characters. Nope, not even the adults. Not only are most of the lead characters in FoE teenagers, but I also based there personalities and life experiences of of my own, as well as the experiences of friends and family of mine. Look, I hate to use the, “As a minor, this makes me uncomfortable,” card, but god damnit, as a minor this makes me real uncomfortable! Now, this ban may lift (AT LEAST ON ADULT CHARACTERS) once I get older, and am more comfortable with people interpreting my works that way, but right now, no. Don’t do it. Keep those ideas in the rough draft bin of your brain. That’s nasty. Don’t do it. Granted, I don’t have a problem with sexual humor in fan works, my sense of humor irl is already pretty… let’s just say, risqué, anyways, but as has already been established, don’t write or draw any of my characters getting it on.

Lastly, A few content warnings for the story to come.

Content warnings for Fall of Enselia will include

Violence

Horror

Gore

Disturbing imagery

Emetophobia

Racism

Potential unreality

Eating disorders

Mild religious themes

Bullying

Kidnapping

Child abuse

Unhealthy/Abusive relationships

Implied substances abuse

Murder

War

Death

Swearing

Generalized bigotry

Though all of these subjects are included if FoE, that doesn’t mean I condone them in any way. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. These things are included to show just how god-awful they are, and hopefully to encourage them to stop. Granted, most of the heavier themes in FoE aren’t anything worse than what you find in the average WoF book, but they’re still pretty heavy things, and I would advise all readers to see with caution if these subjects could trigger you.

Anyways, that’s all I have to say for now. Have a good day or night, take your vitamins, eat a good breakfast, stay hydrated, and make sure to wash your hands! 💙