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#like i expect everything i draw to be PERFECT and logically i KNOW that’s not gonna happen cuz it never happens for anyone
hockey-fics · 11 months
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A Simple Yes - Quinn Hughes
Summary: You truly never believed it would happen, getting pregnant before you were ready. But sometimes the things you don’t expect to happen end up being not so bad after all. 
Word Count: ~1,300
Warnings: Pregnancy
A/N: This was supposed to be way longer. I actually had another 1,500 words written for it but I was struggling to find a logical conclusion at that point so I just shortened it, I’m very sorry if it’s a disappointing ending. 
It wasn’t how you wanted to find out. Alone in the bathroom of your quiet apartment, shaky hands clutching onto a positive pregnancy test. There’s a weight on your chest and you can’t manage to draw a full breath into your lungs. Your staring at the test but it feels like you’re no longer fully there, everything felt distant and fuzzy. With shaking hands you fumble the second test out of the three pack box, taking another test before sitting on the edge of the bathtub. This time after you set the timer on your phone you don’t head to Tik Tok to kill the time. This time you set the phone on the counter, eyes staring at the floor that you realize you should have swept days ago. You couldn’t be pregnant. You couldn’t even manage to sweep the floors in your apartment. How were you supposed to be able to take care of a baby?
Your mind is still racing when the sound of the timer on your phone going off makes you jump. Slamming your hand against your phone you manage to silence the loud ringing, not caring about anything but the lines on the tiny screen of the plastic stick sitting on your counter. Delicately you pick up the test, as if jostling it around would change the results. When your eyes see the double lines your heart starts to beat so hard you begin to worry you might be nearing full on cardiac arrest. 
It’s only a matter of seconds before you toss that test into the sink with the first, ripping the last test of the box like it was your saving grace. You had absolutely no idea how you were able to pee on the third stick in such a short amount of time, but you weren’t upset about it. You go through the now familiar steps, nearly slamming the test on the counter as you set the timer. You repeat the process of spending five minutes worrying about everything and anything that came into your brain before the trilling of your phone breaks you out of it. When you pick up the test you feel your stomach drop, the two pink lines seemed to be taunting you at this point. Normally you were a pretty composed person, but as you throw the test into the sink with the other two all composure leaves your body. 
“Oh, fuck,” you mutter, leaning into the bathroom counter, a wave of dizziness washing over you. “Fuck,” you repeat, slamming your hand onto the cool granite with a loud smack. 
It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about this. You had been with Quinn for over a year and you had definitely thought about the future, about having a family with him. But that wasn’t supposed to happen for many, many years. You were supposed to be living together and married and have a dog and a picture perfect life together way before this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be finding this out together and the tears in your eyes were supposed to be from joy and not fear. 
Picking the tests from the sink you carelessly toss them into the garbage, leaving the bathroom for the first time in the last half hour. But you didn’t know what to do now. You couldn’t just text him and tell him you were pregnant, that wasn’t something you casually send to someone. Truly you just wanted a glass of wine to numb the intensity of the feelings but that was off the table now. So you stand in the hallway, staring at the gallery wall of shitty paintings you had made with your friends, each and every one of them created under the influence of alcohol or drugs. You couldn’t be a parent, not with this type of decor. 
You’re standing there, completely still, till your phone vibrates in your hand. It’s a text from Quinn and you feel an immediate wave of nausea. ‘Can’t wait to see you tomorrow’ 
He had been on the road for the last three days. The same number of days that your period was late by. You don’t even know what to say to him as you stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you hope some sort of response would pop into your brain. ‘Me too’ is all you finally manage to think of. Looking at the time you decide that 9:30 was late enough and that it would simply be easiest to put yourself to bed at this point. 
It’s 1:47pm the next day, something you know precisely because you had been watching the clock on the cable box in Quinn’s apartment for the last half hour. You had told him cable was a waste of money since he didn’t watch it but he seemed to think it was just easier to keep paying for it than cancel it. He had given you a key to his apartment a couple months ago, around the same time you had bought a few plants for him for his apartment. You weren’t convinced he really cared enough about the plants to give you a key to be able to water them when he was away, but you weren’t going to question his excuse either. 
You hear the sound of the door open but you don’t say anything, remaining silent and still till Quinn rounds the corner, jumping when he sees you sitting on the couch. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” Quinn chuckles. 
Nodding, you pull your knees even further to your chest. “We need to talk.”
Quinn is silent for a second and you can almost see the thoughts running through his head as he leans his shoulder against the wall. “Okay,” he mutters, voice cold. You weren’t stupid, you knew what he was thinking. That you wanted to break up or you had cheated on him, those were the logical conclusions after what you had just said. 
Your eyes are filling with tears as you stare at him, not having a clue about how to start this conversation. Sure, you had gone through a million and one ways this conversation could go. Yet here you were, ready to pull out any one of those million options and coming up with none. 
“What?” Quinn snaps, arms crossed over his chest and you’re almost certain your assumption was right about what he was thinking now. 
“Quinn,” you begin, voice breaking as your fingernails dig into the denim of your jeans, arms wrapped around your legs. 
“What?” he repeats, shaking his head. “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”
“No,” you croak, a couple tears dripping from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, letting them fall onto your t-shirt. 
“You cheated on me?” Quinn pushes. 
Shaking your head you dig your fingers in further, till they were turning white and pain was radiating from your legs. “You know I would never do that.”
“Then what’s going on?” Quinn asks and his voice is softer, dropping his arms from their defensive position over his chest to his sides. 
“I-,” you begin, taking a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
Quinn doesn’t say anything for long enough that you’re nearing the point where you wanted to say something for him. But eventually he does and he’s walking over to you as he does. “Pregnant?” Is all he manages to get out, but at least he’s beside you now, arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Shit,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “When, um, when did you find out?”
“Last night,” you whisper, your body relaxing the second he has his arms around you. “I took three tests.”
Quinn rubs his hand along your arm before sliding his arm under your legs and pulling them over his lap, desperately trying to get you as close to him as possible. “Okay,” he whispers. “What do you, you know, want to do?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, arms wrapped around him so tight you’re worried you might be hurting him. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be…how I pictured it.”
Quinn doesn’t comment on how hard you were holding onto him, just rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder with his thumb. “Me neither.”
Pulling back suddenly you look into his eyes with surprise. “What do you mean? You’ve pictured this?”
Quinn nods, looking into your eyes. “What do you mean? Of course I have. I’ve told you that…that I want to spend my life with you.”
“I,” you begin, shaking your head as you try to regain some sense of composure. “I thought you were just joking, or saying that to make me happy or something.”
“That’s a really shitty thing to joke about,” Quinn chuckles, receiving a spluttering, surprised laugh from you. “Come with me,” Quinn states, standing up and taking your hands in his. His apartment isn’t that big and you almost immediately realize he’s pulling you into his bedroom. 
“Quinn, I’m already pregnant,” you joke, though you’re truly not sure if you should be joking about it at this point or not. 
Quinn simply shakes his head with a quiet chuckle, pulling open the top drawer of his dresser he rifles through it till he pulls a little box out. Turning around to face you he opens it, showing you the beautiful ring inside. 
“Is that?” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at the ring. 
“Yeah,” Quinn breathes out. “You said you liked a ring one time when were watching TikTok together and I knew one day I was going to ask you to marry me…so I found something like it...I just don’t know why you’re surprised that I’ve thought about this before.”
You’re reaching for the ring when Quinn slams the box shut, pulling it away from you. “No, I’m not asking you to marry me.”
“What?” you whisper, recoiling away from him, a sinking feeling in your chest. 
“Well I am,” Quinn clarifies. “But not now…not like this. You deserve better, you deserve something romantic, something perfect.”
Your eyes are welling with tears again and you can’t take your eyes off of him. “I love you,” you whisper. 
“I love you too,” he says, setting the ring down before placing his hands on your waist. “Do you want to do this?”
“Marry you?” you ask, tears rolling down your face. 
“Well that,” Quinn whispers, wiping away a couple tears from your cheeks. “But also us having a baby, starting a family right now.”
“Yes,” you breathe out, one simple answer to both questions. 
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jjhhuibhhhj · 2 months
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Unpopular opinion…
It seems as if everyone is annoyed at Bryce for not immediately sharing every detail of her world with the IC. Bryce did not read 5 ACOTAR books or know these people as we do. Her experience with Fae (rightfully) show that they are horrible. These people overthrew her enemy which must mean they are dangerous.
Although they do not physically torture her it is EXTREMELY CLEAR not just by their actions but actual DIALOGUE that they do not trust Bryce
Also, the IC just finished a war and for the first time in most of their lives are experiencing peace. We know from ACOTAR that Rhysand and friends will do all that is necessary to keep their world save even if that includes killing Bryce which could upon a portal for the big bad “Daglan/ Asteri”
Bryce realising she needs to escape and being reckless is understandable she left her mate and family behind and she doesn’t have time to win the IC’s trust. They clearly view her as a prisoner not a guest and have disarmed her. Bryce does not have one reason to trust them or even expect to them to be trustworthy.
I feel the people who feel let down by this crossover are let down by the fact that the CRESCENT CITY book centers around the CRESCENT CITY characters and isn’t more batboy smut.
There are definitely plot points that could have been dealt with better such as the information from Silene, everything about Ithan. The biggest issue I have with Bryce is her seemingly having this golden hamster wheel in her mind which happens to make perfect conveniently timed plans. Bryce does feel like a moderniser attempt at Aelin’s character. That being said constantly drawing comparisons between the FMC takes away from them so it isn’t something I feel I should do.
Ithan is so annoying to me especially his inability to stay on track or have any logical thought process. I don’t understand his undying loyalty to the wolves who abandoned and betrayed him. Sigrid tried to KILL HIM as well but he still yapped on about her and had no respect for his friend Cormac by not even protesting against the idea of resurrecting Sophie just to use her power to make himself feel better. He should have focused on the friends that are loyal to him which he even called his pack.
Also ENOUGH with the sunball references. Only so much benefits can be drawn from sunball which directly correlates with any real world benefit.
Tharion just feels like one big yap fest (lack of a better explanation to convey the boredom he perpetuates in me). Aidas and Appolion also could have spoken up about EVERYTHING about two books ago or at least in all their little encounters with Hunt.
Jesiba Roga and Fury 🤝 Mor and Amren
(Overhyped and underperforming)
I have religiously read every Sarah J Maas and all things considered I really enjoyed this book it might even be my favorite in the CC universe.
I enjoyed it more than Tower of Dawn, ACOSF and ACOFAS but I will not read the next book if it is about Ithan or Tharion.
I suspect Azriel is linked to Hel but Sarah definitely still has alot of loose threads surrounding him which is starting to feel redundant and an elaborate attempt at making him seem mysterious.
Things I would like so see in the Maasverse: the parasite being removed from the water and the Midgardians tapping into their raw power, better understanding of Bryce and Hunt joint ability. I also think Sarah could become one of the best fantasy writers of all time if she focused more on how the multiverse works (time differences, abilities (technicalities of it all). I would like to know what happened to Erilea because all the evidence points to it being a conquered world which will honestly just be depressing but we see that Prythian and midgard follow the same time sequence so perhaps Erilea is joined in on that time scape and Aelin falling through still happens relatively “recent”.
And I agree on how annoying the term “alphahole” is but lets focus on the real enemy “his luxurious length”. That just reminds me of ms Perky in 10 things I hate about you and Reginalds quivering member.
Let’s move away from the smut which was excellently balanced out in TOG in my opinion. I do think that Sarah amortised her credibility as a fantasy writer between TOG and ACOTAR by focusing more on the smut scenes and not the plot point. I am ready to be hated but I DON’T care about what Lorcan did or Cassian and the stupid headboard. I DO care about how the time differs between the universes, the different gods in all the worlds and how they link, each string on the harp and the different heritages.
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chairwritexv · 11 months
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Can i request platonic rottmnt little sibling chubby with all of the brothers HC?
Reader is same age as Mikey but what makes them different is they're on the plus size, their ninpo were made to be support class (and yes am thinking of rpg games).
This makes reader insecure about themselves; they're not " helping much " and they believe they're fat and not strong or skiny or have toned muscles like the rest of the mad dogs which put them down.
However the 4 brothers think otherwise and they have their own way to show their love & affection to reader/p
yess!! WE LOVE CHUBBY PEOPLE !!! i am such a green bean tho akfsjdns
also, i don’t play rpg games a ton, but after looking it up it appears to be a healer kinda? sorry if i got it wrong !
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r a p h
is actually really surprised to learn youre insecure about your size and ninpo
he’s pretty big but doesn’t really have problems with it ??? of course he doesn’t really realize the difference between ‘beefy af’ and ‘le chubby’ lmao
he wasn’t entirely sure what to do at first bc he’s never seen this before
and with his sibling?.?? afjsjsj
when he realized/you told him he tilted his head in confusion stared at you before bursting out
“you don’t like your body??? why???”
“raph has a big body and he don’t care!”
didn’t understand at first
“you’re the most perfect little sibling raph could want !”
”no matter what yer size!”
kinda felt bad, he felt like he should’ve noticed sooner since he was the Big BrotherTM
made sure not to be accidentally offensive about it just in case
when one of those lose-weight-or-no-one-will-love-you thought inducing ads would come on raph would block the tv
“DONT LISTEN TO IT!! YOU ARE PERFECT NO MATTER WHAT YOUR SIZE!!!”
l e o
ok so. the lil shit probably teased you abt it in the past. but NOT in a rude or offensive way. like affectionate . well he tried to come off affectionate anyways …
he’d like just poke at your chub n stuff y’know?
he wasn’t really trying to be offensive he just found it interesting since all his other brothers were skinny beans, and raph was just super beefy
but oh my god
BOI FELT SO BAD WHEN YOU TOLD HIM YOU WERE INSECURE ABT IT
”…what?”
feels like it’s all his fault
apologizes so much abt it he’s the one the needs reassuring afsjdn
he wasn’t the main reason of your insecurities , but his teasing hadn’t helped it… yknow?
he reassured you there was nothing wrong with your body OR ninpo and no reason to be insecure abt it
tells you his past ‘teasing’ wasn’t meant to be rude in any way and apologizes
he hasn’t teased you abt it for awhile anyways, but still makes sure not to be rude abt it in any ways whatsoever
if one of those lose-weight ads comes on he’ll tell you a stupid joke or something to move your attention away from it
still feels bad abt the teasing tbh
d o n n i e
he’s the second most surprised
i mean, he knows that people feel insecure abt their chub sometimes thanks to the internet but he wasn’t expecting one of those people to be you
i mean, you weren’t even that chubby in his opinion
uses logic to reassure you that your body is fine in every way
same with your ninpo
”your ninpo is very important and crucial to the team, y’know-“
he will not have his little sibling being insecure >:(
if he notices you staring at yourself in the mirror with a less-then-positive-face on, he’ll drag you away from it under the guise of wanting to show you his latest invention
not good with emotions but he’s doing his best ok
if those lose-weight-and-you’ll-finally-be-perfect ads comes on he’ll either distract you somehow or cover your eyes with his battle shell arm
m i k e y
was confused at first, not understanding what you meant
when he finally understood he gasped
his twin?? disliking their body/ninpo???? UNACCEPTABLE
cue the doctor feelings speech
does absolutely everything in his power to make you feel good abt yourself
will draw you SPECIFICALLY highlighting your pudge bc there is nothing wrong with it and will take that to his grave
sends you body-affirming stuff at random times
will paint his nails with you whilst reassuring you you’re absolutely beautiful the way you are ✨
a lose-weight ad?
he will DRAMATICALLY scream at you not to watch it-
”Y/N! DONT WATCH IT!! ITS FULL OF LIES-“
-before hugging you and dramatically putting his hand to his head
”LIES!!!”
it’s such a funny distraction technique you can’t not burst out laughing
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thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed!!!
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aquickstart · 2 months
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You know the b99 episode where the dentist who did the perfect murder ends up confessing in a rage because Jake lays down the theory that he was impulsive and sloppy and simply got lucky at every turn? To me Oliver is lowkey the kind of guy Jake described.
i read your ask wrong the first time and assumed something you didn't imply at all and typed out almost a full response. talk about presumption and literacy my god. anyway. to actually answer this correctly this time.
YES. yes exactly. i don't remember this episode well. but oliver quick is impulsive and hungry and horny and confused by his desires. he is sloppy. he is the kind of guy who thinks that of course no one wants him, ugh, poor him, he deserves a sob story because he might as well have been poor and neglected, he felt like he was, so what of it; insecure but compensating by pride. he is also the kind to think that he is smarter than everyone and understands whatever he set his mind to understand better than anyone ever could (i.e. felix, the cattons, the reality of being actually poor, too). he relies on his own perception. once he establishes what he thinks is the full picture, he sticks by this understanding until he gets hit in the face by the concrete wall of reality (e.g. farleigh who keeps defying his expectation and driving him more and more mad).
in his mind, as evidenced so clearly by his monologue in the end, he calculated everything perfectly because he is so smart and everyone else isn't. the truth of it is that the cattons played with him until it was too late. it just so happened that the cattons were also sloppy with their playing, and unfortunately oliver was too impulsive, and too hungry, and never had to face rejection in a way that mattered to him before oxford (because everyone at school was an idiot, clearly, so they just didn't appreciate his genius, and his family, predominantly women, were clearly also too meek to reach his depth of thinking (i am being sarcastic. this is oliver's logic)). he fumbles everything and everyone and then soliloquizes to convince himself (and us, the audience) that he actually didn't. it wasn't actually just a crush that accidentally drove him to something sinister, because oliver quick is a cold-hearted calculating mastermind. if you implied the contrary to his face he'd flip out, probably.
so that's that. but i'll tell you why i first misread your ask. i will also tell you most of what i typed out at first because it is still relevant because of your comparison of b99, a sitcom, and saltburn, an enigma of genre.
by comparing it with a sitcom you're picking up on genre conventions and bringing up, i think, indirectly, a great point about the messiness of saltburn as a film, a cinematic work of art, and the difficulty of defining its genre because of the context of its form. i saw a comment on tiktok in a similar vein, about how saltburn defies the concept of genre and is impossible to pin down, and disagreed with it, because saltburn is fundamentally gothic romanticism, which is, however, largely (if not exclusively) a book genre/aesthetic.
yeah! so like, with this comparison, you're kinda drawing attention to the fact, i think, that oliver soliloquizing his genius plan and recounting everything we've already seen is kind of silly on its own, on a surface level. it is kind of silly because it sounds like it does in marvel-esque flicks, because in those types of stories it's a cliché that works to emphasize the villain's villainy, the pride, the presumption of the win. in those stories we know these dudes are evil (there's nuance, but in general, they are anti-heroes). and i need to stress this: saltburn can definitely be watched and read in the exact same way. surface reading can be completely justified (it is a legitimate literary practice! i have a pdf on hand if you want but here's a citation on researchgate). it's liberating not to dig into psycho- and lit-analysis of a piece and could serve some of us well.
your ask is not about that at all, but i fuckin love the comparison. because saltburn is fuckin silly in a huge part. it has a whole bunch of bits and pieces that it strings together and a lot of people are trying to pin down its genre based on individual bits that they recognize the tone of. but this kind of seeing it is a mistake, because what it does is play into the aesthetics of gothic romanticism. and gothic romanticism can be anything at all, it just has to convey certain themes in certain ways. which is what it does. so it's not that much about whether saltburn is a comedy, a drama, a horror or a thriller. it's more about the fact that it's a gothic story. i fuckin love saltburn.
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whumpwillow · 2 years
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Demon’s Haven | one
remembered this old series I used to write last year but then deleted because I didn’t like it so I edited it a bit and I’m gonna re-post it ✌🏻
masterlist 
warnings: past torture, church mention, graphic wound description, demon whumpee, witch caretaker 
Haven made sure to get everything correct. The runes drawn with pristine, painstakingly straight lines, the points in the proper directions, and the offerings in their proper places. She’d never done this level of dark magic before and no matter what anyone else said about it being commonplace to the dark mages of today, she did not want to mess it up. There was quite a bit her mind could conjure up about what could go wrong when summoning a demon.
Haven decided to readjust things, just a little. Just to make sure it was ready. She spread out the flowers more so they filled in the runes better, made sure the gold ring was still there, and stood back to inspect her work.
Contrary to popular belief, especially that of a non-mage perspective, summoning a demon did not require a human sacrifice. Nor a sacrifice of any kind. She was quite glad she didn’t have to find a lamb’s heart or buy pigs blood from some shady back alley; all she had to do was draw an intricate set of lines and symbols that took nearly two hours on her hands and knees. It was hard work, but it had to be perfect. There was no room for error—no smudged runes or wobbly lines. She had no idea what to do if she ended up setting a demon loose in the city, and whatever the church said about witches being unholy, she was pretty sure those folk didn’t have what it took to defend against the worst of it.
She wasn’t going to find out. This were going to work; she had to tell herself that to believe it. She prepped for this, read all the demonica books she could get her hands on, and practiced what she would say when she actually summoned the thing. The demon would try to trick her, to twist her words and logic to its own gain, or at the very least, its amusement at her suffering. She was ready. She wouldn’t fall victim to any sort of deceit, and besides, she had only a simple request. A favor in exchange for a favor. Not a soul.
Another thing the mundanes didn’t know about summoning was that trade with demons was a popular enterprise, dealing with but not exclusively limited to souls. Haven certainly would never sell hers, though she’d heard no one ever had to. Summoning a demon could be for the smallest of things in exchange for a price equal to the request. Erasing a tricky spell, casting a more powerful hex, whatever anyone could wish from the dark magic of a demon. Small favors, in return for something less than one’s immortal soul. The reason it wasn’t all the more common than it was—despite its growing popularity in recent years—was the amount of danger that came along with it. Summoning a demon into this plane of existence meant exactly that: there was a now a demon in the same space as oneself, and it was the mage’s responsibility to make sure it didn’t escape.
Hence the protection runes that took forever to make.
Haven took a deep breath to settle her nerves and began on the candles, one by one tipping the flames into each other to light them. Setting down the last one, she stepped back and admired her handiwork for a moment, hoping it would be enough. She then began the incantation.
The candles flared the moment she began speaking, their quivering plumes of fire rising high into the night air. As Haven called to whatever demons lurked in the depths, she wondered what the creature would look like. Would it be a towering monstrosity? Or a beautiful humanoid, too perfect to be real, ready to seduce her into the darkness?
She certainly had not expected it to look dead.
The demon materialized in the circle just as planned, but it wasn’t smirking or snarling or even standing up. It just lie there, motionless except for the shaky rise and fall of its chest. It moved its hands, tracing its fingers over the ground with trembling motions, just barely touching the rough stone it now lie on, as if it didn’t believe it was really there. Realizing it had been summoned to the human realm, it curled into a ball and continued to shiver.
Haven, too stunned to speak, merely stared, trying to process what she’d just done. She’d braced herself for a fight, or for a battle of wills and wordplay at the very least. She’d expected to be facing a monster.
What she got was a broken thing, huddled on the bare floor.
Haven took a cautious step closer, wondering if this might be a trap. Perhaps the demon was trying to garner her sympathy, to entice her into the summoning circle or lull her into a false sense of security that would cause her to make a mistake. Maybe she’d already made a mistake—this wasn’t what she was expecting at all.
The demon in front of her looked nothing like what she thought one should look like. She thought it would stand tall and proud, and would at least look at her. Here, It appeared as a human male would, albeit one who’d been badly beaten. It had curled in on itself so Haven couldn’t see its face, but its torso was uncovered and a pattern of long scars ran down its back, overlapping one another, layered deep and ruthless. Bruises marked its sides, shoulders, and pretty much everywhere else. A patchwork of purple and brown and blue.
Haven felt a pang in her stomach, then quickly chided herself. There was no room to feel sympathy for the thing. It probably wasn’t even injured—the blood and bruises just a glamour put on with magic.
Haven huffed, crossing her arms. The demon flinched at the slight sound, curling further in on itself, shivering violently.
“I want to make a deal,” Haven said, going into her rehearsed scripts.
The demon could play it’s tricks, but she would never fall for them. No matter how pitiful it seemed, cowering in front of her, she would make sure to have the upper hand.
No response.
Haven waited a beat, but only the sound of waves and distant crickets met her ears. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the demon breathing, a fast-paced and shallow beat. Occasionally its breath hitched, catching, resuming.
Haven swallowed awkwardly. “I said I would like to make a deal.”
No reaction from the demon. Haven observed it, with its knees curled into its chest, head bowed and arms raised as if to protect itself from a blow. From this position, Haven could see its ribs, which must have been broken. The movement of them was decidedly wrong. A bruised portion of its chest drew inwards as the creature breathed in, while the rest expanded as it was supposed to. The effect was disconcerting—lopsided and awkward and definitely not something that should have been happening. Bruises littered its skin, ranging in severity from small brown dots to large patches of blue and purple that stained its side like runny watercolors. Long scars ran down its back from the tops of its shoulders, crisscrossing and overlapping one another. Some looked fresher than others, still bleeding red on top of fleshy pink. Symbols—the meaning of which, Haven could not decipher—marked its body as well, burned into it with a precision that couldn’t have come from fire.
Holy water, Haven’s mind supplied. She knew it burned them, but she hadn’t known it would leave actual burns.
Whatever. Maybe it didn’t.
Haven shook her head to clear away the thoughts. She needed to focus. There was no use getting caught up in the grotesque imagery when it was all a lie anyway. She didn’t know why the demon kept up this act, but she wasn’t going to fall for a trap just because this was her first time summoning.
The demon whimpered softly.
The wounds were awful.
It’s just an illusion, Haven told herself. A magical glamour.
She sighed, trying to ignore the urge to take the figure into her arms and stop his shivering. Because it was not a he. It was a demon.
If she took one step into that summoning circle she was dead—or worse.
“Demon,” she said, more forcefully.
The demon cried out and scrambled backward, hitting the edge of the summoning circle and yelping when the magic zapped it. It curled its legs to its chest and held up its arms to try and protect itself, all the while quivering something fierce. Its breathing grew rattled, short and pitchy. The motion made its ribs look even more unnerving.
Haven could finally see its face.
And it was beautiful.
Beyond all the blood and bruises, Haven knew this was a creature that could seduce unwise summoners into treacherous water, able to lure them in like a shark disguised as a lustrous jellyfish. Both of which were deadly. High, sharp cheekbones, full lips, pointed ears, and the most vivid green eyes Haven had ever seen. A shade of emerald that could only belong to a demon, too lurid to be born to any mortal or mage.
Tears trailed from these gorgeous eyes, the red around them making the color stand out even more in the contrast. Haven really had to admire the work the demon was putting into the act—she could almost believe it.
The demon held up its hands, trying to shield its face as if Haven would spontaneously leap forward into the summoning circle. As if she was that stupid.
“P-ple-please,” it croaked with a voice that was rough and hitching. “P-please—I—”
More tears fell from its eyes and it brought its hands up to cover its face, bowing its head to rest upon its knees. Haven stood there, not sure what else to do. Everything she’d used to prepare had said that all she needed to do was summon the demon, ask to make a deal, negotiate the price, try not to die, and that was it.
Nothing about what to do when the demon refused to make the deal in the first place. Maybe she’d summoned a low-level one that was too powerless to do anything? Or was it a high-level demon she’d somehow acquired and it recognized her newness and decided to mock her for it? Using this pitiful, injured guise. She thought demons would have more self-respect.
Either way, she wasn’t getting her deal tonight.
Oh well.
The summoning circle lasted for three days—she’d come back tomorrow and try again. Hopefully the demon would be back to normal by then. She didn’t think it would want to stay a sobbing mess forever.
spoiler alert: the injuries are not a lie :) 
next
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blueburningcup · 1 year
Text
Coconut Pineapple
And the Valentine’s day one shot that y’all voted for! Gonna try to work on the Ruby/Regina one.
Summary: Seicho takes Azula to the beach to do some chocolate tasting. Azula tries to shake away doubts that Ozai and Fire Nation high class society have instilled within her.
The sun is still high. It casts vivid rays through the windows of Seicho’s bedroom. It is a small dwelling, but it is very cozy. As fate would have it, she owns the same seashell bedspread that Lo and Li do.
She also owns a lot of clutter. Ships in bottles and bottled sand are scattered throughout the room amid piles of seashells and dried starfish. The ceiling is home to many replica sea animals that hang on strings. Seicho had mentioned that she is terribly uncomfortable with people drying out real sea critters for decoration and Azula supposes that she can see how the other woman would find the practice unsettling. Her floor is covered in mis-matching and colorful rugs that would make Mai hurl. And her wall is covered in paintings and wooden masks that just don’t go together. 
Admittedly, the first time that she’d set foot in this room it had made her head ache trying put the disjointed pieces together. 
She has long since given that up. Seicho seems to acquire new treasures at a rate much faster than she could ever hope to organize things. 
As much as she hates to admit it, she has grown used to the clutter. Frankly, she thinks that she would be more uncomfortable if she stepped into this room to find it suddenly spotless. Not that she isn’t uncomfortable right now.
“You know that it’s not like it was a few years ago. Honestly, Ember Island was never really shy about this kind of thing. And you shouldn’t be either.”
“I’m not shy. I just…I know what’s expected of me.” She pauses. “And what isn’t.” She takes another glance in the mirror. Her hair falls over her shoulders in waves. She had let Seicho fix small seashells into the stands. Really, the swimsuit isn’t all that showy. More so than the one she had worn on her last trip to Ember Island but nothing as brave as what Ty-Lee had worn. 
But then, father hadn’t approved of her first swimsuit either. 
“What are you trying to do?” He had asked. “Do you want people to think that we’re a nation full of harlots?”
“Mai and TyLee…”
She remembers the look on his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 
“TyLee, that girl was always floozy, her parents should have raised her better. She’s going to end up pregnant and disgrace her family like Chan’s sister. Is that what you want to do?” 
“We were on the beach…”
It was a logical enough thing to say but father had made it seem senseless and stupid. Like she was a lost cause for doing what? Chancing a quick swim? But spirits it was effective because she feels so very exposed.  
“You look great.” Seicho promises. 
And that’s exactly the problem. She will draw looks, the kind that father has always warned her about. The kind that he would get angry with her for even if she had done everything she could to avoid getting those looks. The ones that make her feel queasy.
“I’d like to put my armor back on.”
Seicho quirks a brow. “You want to wear armor to a chocolate tasting?” She pauses. “On the beach?”
Azula bites the inside of her lip.
“I thought that you were a fan of being practical.”
“I am.”
“Well then, let’s be practical. Beach, sunny. Sun, hot. Armor? Sweltering. I don’t want to have to carry you home because you passed out. I especially don’t want to have to carry you if you’re wearing like fifty pounds of armor.” 
“It’s not that heavy.” She mumbles. 
“My point is, no one wears armor to the beach and you know it.” 
Azula shrugs. 
“This is perfect.” She insists. “You do like it don’t you?” 
Azula nods. The fabric feels very comfortable. The skirt is quite long but so is the v slit. Long enough to show off her whole leg. She likes the gold belt that sits on her hips with its seashell charms and its gold coins. The top suits her nicely, it is sleeveless–held up by a zipper in the back and a chain to match the one at her hips. Embroidered along the bottom of the bikini top are golden flames and one small dragon. There is another chain fixed to the bottom of that bikini top is one more chain. One that dangles down to her belly with a collection of rubies and sunstones. 
It is flashy.
Eye catching. 
She doesn’t want eyes to be caught.
She adores how it looks but she doesn’t love the idea of wearing it in public. She is perfectly content having captured only one pair of eyes. 
“You’re dad was wrong, you know that don’t you?” She pauses.
“He’s not the only one who thinks like that.”
“He’s not the only person with wrong opinions. The Fire Nation always talks about being so brave and amazing. And yet they’re all so scared of a little skin.”
“They’re afraid of change.” Azula mumbles. “Which is strange. I’ve read about Fire Nation fashion as part of cultural and historical research, of course.”
“Of course.” Seicho rolls her eyes. 
Azula opts to ignore the doubt in her voice. “Fire Nation culture has roots in Sun Warrior culture and their clothing style much more closely resembles modern Ember Island fashion trends.” She pauses. “The shift happened during the war.” 
“Yeah, because they want to stifle creativity…or something. Come on.” Seicho hooks Azula by the elbow and begins leading her to the door. “You’re putting so much thought into this, all we’re going to do is go down to the beach and have some chocolate. And a good time, we are going to have a good time.”
Azula certainly hopes so.
She is, afterall, the princess. Now that father isn’t here to demean her she supposes that there isn’t much anyone can do to stop her from having a nice time, from feeling comfortable. 
She can stop herself though.
She is very good at that.
.oOo.
“Well, which do you prefer?”
Azula hums, “I’m not sure, they both taste good enough.” 
Seicho pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth and then a second sample of chocolate type four. 
Both truly are amazing. Type three is a touch bitter, it is rich in the same way that dark silks and woodsy colognes are. Type three is rich like warm blankets, cream, and the glow of a beach bonfire.
“The caramel one.” Azula decides. 
“Yeah, I think that I prefer that one too.” Seicho agrees. “It kind of just melts on your tongue.” 
Seicho links their hands and leads her along to the next stall. The beach is so lively and crowded. For once, Azula is comforted by the massive gathering. Everyone just breezes by her, each person–individual or couple–is invested in their own doings. Their own romances or personal delights. 
Whether that thing is the chocolate sampling breaking away from the crowd to watch the twinkle of lantern lights reflecting in the water. The fireworks will begin soon. 
“Oh! Try this one!” Seicho offers her another chocolate. This one of the white variety. It has been carefully molded and dyed to bare likeness to a firelily. It certainly looks appetizing. 
She plucks it from Seicho’s hand. “It’s got a touch of…peach?”
“I think that it might be mango, or orange?”
“Those are two completely different flavors!” She exclaims. “And they’re both incorrect guesses. It is definitely a hint of peach.” 
“No way, taste it again!” She insists. 
“Seicho, I don’t know how much more chocolate I can handle.” Regardless she lets Seicho give her another piece. “Last one and then I’d like to walk by the water.” 
Seicho exhales through her nose. “Fine, I guess. But I would like to taste Mikahara’s chocolate first. I heard that she’s got some kind of coconut-pineapple chocolate that sounds tasty.”
“Alright, Mikahara’s chocolate and then some quiet time.” Away from people, away from the occasional glances. The ones that linger too long for her comfort. 
She lets Seicho lead her along. They weave through a lively crowd. Everyone looks so comfortable and at ease with hibiscus in their hair and drinks in their hands. No one seems troubled in the slightest. Azula inhales and drinks in the smell of chocolate and fruity drinks. 
“Hey, it’s alright.” Sheicho squeezes her hand. “You’re doing great. We can pass on the Mikahara’s…”
She shakes her head. “No! We can go get it.” She has to get herself comfortable. Has to take back what father and years of ridiculous expectations have taken from her. “I’m fine, I always finish things that I start.” 
“Technically I started it.” 
“I want to enjoy tonight, all of tonight.” Every list scent, taste, and sight. Every emotion that she had, in the past, tried to keep herself from. She wants to be alive. Truly alive.
And tonight is the perfect night to do that. 
To reclaim parts of herself.
To make new parts of herself.
Parts that she can cherish the way Seicho cherishes her. The way she cherishes Seicho. 
“Hello!” Greets a woman with shaved hair and a pearl in one ear. 
“You must be Mikahara.” Azula guesses. 
“I am.” She confirms. 
“From the sound of it, you’ve made quite an impression tonight.” 
Mikahara smiles. “See for yourself, princess.” She hands Azula a box of chocolates. “I heard that you might be here so I saved a little something special for the both of you.”
Seicho’s eyes twinkle. “Oh this is a treasure trove of chocolate!” The woman’s mouth is practically watering. 
“Thank you.” Azula replies.
“Of course, princess. I wouldn’t have had this opportunity if not for tonight’s festivities. And we would be having them if not for you.” 
Azula nods and slips her a gold coin or two. “We can share this by the water.”
“That sounds great, Azula.” Seicho smiles. 
.oOo.
It is quiet here at the shoreline. She has led Seicho a good distance from the jubilant energy of the chocolate tasting stalls and the couples straggling on the sand that is still relatively close to the festivities. 
This portion of the beach is, until the sunrises, desolate. Charmingly so. The music and chatter are close enough to be heard but distant enough to be little more than pleasant white noise. 
“Tell me the truth, how was it?”
“It was…it was really wonderful, Seicho.” It was nerve-wracking but sublime in its own right. There is a certain charm, a sense of exhilaration and freedom in stepping out of her comfort zone and into something new. Something that is probably better.
Something liberating. 
All in all, father had been completely off.
Most people hadn’t even noticed her at all.
And if they had, they opted to give her, her space. 
She certainly doesn’t feel like a harlot. Neither does she feel like she has had herself a scandalous evening. She had simply had an evening. Had put on an outfit sewn, very lovingly, by her girlfriend’s mother, and went to a party. 
“It is going to be nice to go back to the palace and not get a lecture about carelessness and wasting time.” 
“Would he really tell you that today?” 
Azula nods. “He would.” She looks out at the open ocean, at those rolling, twinkling waves and clears her throat. “Can we talk about something else or eat some of that chocolate.”
Seicho quirks a brow. “I thought that you said you were full.”
“Mikahara did make that special for me though, it would be a shame to not try it.”
Seicho chuckles. 
“It would also make father really unhappy if I were to go visit him in prison and tell him that I spent a whole night eating chocolate and wearing sleeveless outfits…”
“Chocolates and no sleeves? On the beach!? Oh we’re getting really wild and daring now!” 
Azula gives a humored sniff and holds a piece of chocolate out to Seicho.
“Very good.” The woman gives a thumbs up. “Try it for yourself.”
Azula cups the woman’s face and brings their lips together. She can indeed taste the lingering chocolate on them. And indeed there is a hint of coconut and pineapple. She holds her face a few inches from Seicho’s, their lips still nearly touch. 
“Oh this is an adventurous night.” 
“It ought to be.” Azula replies quietly. She needs that so badly. She has needed it for a long time. And she promises herself that this will be only the beginning. That her life is going to be hers from now on. Starting with the way she views herself and her body.
Ending with discovering and following her own hopes and dreams.
“Happy birthday, by the way.” Seicho nudges her. 
“I suppose it is.” Azula smiles.
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leorawright · 7 months
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oh my gosh how did i miss that u have overwatch matchups available???(it's a very easy answer. i am never on tumblr)
If you would be so kind as to do romantic one for me:
I am a genderfluid afab person and the only thing shorter than me is my patience. I am demisexual/demiromantic, poly, and like all genders.
I get angry really easily but hate showing it so i just end up going around in a bad mood acting like everything is ok
i have pretty bad anxiety and appreciate having someone confident enough around to help me with simple tasks(ex ordering food or speaking on the phone) but who won't make fun of me. I can also send myself into a spiral by thinking of things that stress me out. So someone who is a steady presence i always appreciate.
I enjoy all things creative. I mostly write and draw but am willing to try new things all the time.
I look at things in a very logical way. I don't like using my emotions to make decisions and i enjoy learning new things all the time. I am a naturally curious person who is always looking to expand my knowledge.
I have a mix of so many things wrong with my brain. ADHD, autism, anxiety, depression. I work really hard on them but sometimes i have days where i just struggle.
Mixed and can speak a lil bit of spanish. It isn't perfect but i can struggle my way thru most conversations.
I really like someone who is open with what i do wrong. Just tell me what i need to fix and don't make it into a whole thing. Open communication is very important to me. I don't want to feel like im walking on eggshells around them if they are too sensitive
I am a VERY determined person, once i set my mind on something i won't give up easily. I can almost be stubborn in my pursuit of goals.
I enjoy gaming, reading, watching anime/cartoons(i don't rlly like live action shows), drawing, and learning new things.
I LOVE cooking. Giving food to others and sharing a meal/snacks is a way of showing love to me. I honestly take it a bit like an insult if someone i care about isn't willing to give me a bite of food off their plate. I know it's silly so i never say anything about it or hold it against them. But to me sharing food and wanting others to experience the same good food as you is the same as saying "i love you" a million times.
I like toys and stuffed animals and cartoons and other stereotypically "childish" things. I'm not ashamed of it.. (well... usually...)
I love joking around and a good pun can get me wheezing from laughter.
I'm not much of a social person, and prefer to spend my time indoors and alone with only one or two other people. I enjoy parallel play and comfortable silences.
I hope this wasn't too much... i just can be really wordy and ramble a lot.. sorry!
I've picked out....
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Zenyatta!
Definitely the calm presence you need and never ever considers making fun of you for your social anxiety.
He enjoys seeing the things you write and draw and offers genuine compliments about everything
He also encourages having direct conversations and if he ever needs to talk to you he'll get straight to the point
He thinks your determination is admirable. Just make sure you eat and drink and take breaks or else he'll get super concerned
He can't really eat any of the food you make but he wishes he could (if only to see you smile)
Expect to receive a couple stuffed animals that he saw and got because he thought of you
If you enjoy a bit of sarcastic or sassy humor then Zenyatta will definitely make you laugh (he still doesn't really understand normal jokes tho...)
Zenyatta also enjoys comfortable silence especially if he's meditating you're just doing your usual things
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titanicfreija · 7 months
Text
"Freija."
"You wanted me to come with you?"
"... Yeah."
"That's fine, I didn't think you'd trust her right off. I don't really expect her to trust you for a little bit, too."
"Huh?"
"You said it-- we're Guardians. She's scared of us and she's right to be."
"Heh."
~
Upon landing, the Exo looked over her roommate and scowled. "Couldn't be bothered to brush off the ashes of the bodies you leave in your wake?" she grunted unhappily. "You've been tithing with the rest of them."
"You asked me along, the fuck are you getting mad at me for?" The Titan crossed her arms and stuck her nose over Three's protruding brow. "I believe in Eris."
"And you're as stupid as the rest! Thanks for the escort, I think I'm good for now."
"I'm bridging for both of you. You said yourself, you're two inches from the Sword Logic. It's not like I'm gonna proselytize at her."
"T'Ree! Reya!"
The Acolyte appeared nearby, smattered with blood, Hive and human alike. She pointed at the stains and chattered excitedly, still agitated from whatever event.
Jinx took a few seconds to start her translation, apparently not wanting to put in her own words, yet. "I didn't mean to get involved and I didn't kill any Ghosts," Jinx said first. Freija stepped forward and Three stepped back, and Yol stepped sideways to get away. Freija stepped toward again with her hands up.
"Are you hurt?"
"Jinx healed me--" The Ghost's voice changed when she spoke for herself. "First it was Hive that attacked us, because of course they did, but then four Guardians came by and attacked us, too. I had to hide."
Freija breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you learned to do that."
Three fixed a questioning brow at Freija and she gestured with a palm up. "First time I showed up here, the little dumbass flew at me to defend her Guardian's corpse."
Jinx wheeled awkwardly and dropped to shoulder level. "I'm learning."
Yol grunted. "I don't know a direct translation for this word, but it's a swear," Jinx said.
"Everything okay?" Freija asked, looking around.
Jinx wheeled and clacked her chitin together excitedly as Yol cried out. "We wanted to brag! We got our smoke bombs to work perfect and we killed a few and hid until the Guardians sniffed us out, and we sent the Ghosts away." Jinx dropped again and mumbled, "They... Really didn't like talking to me."
"You just sent them away? And they went?" Three asked skeptically.
"Don't be like that," Freija objected, but Yol nodded fiercely.
Jinx translated as Yol yammered as she mimed throwing, then picking up and throwing with effort. "I was fighting the Hive and winning but the Guardians attacked and I stunned them all and killed them with my grenade! Then I threw their bodies off the ledge and into the Miasma and the Ghosts went after them."
Three nodded with an appraising frown. "You got the grenade to work?"
Yol bounced her head and held her hand out to summon the ball of Void, only to collapse.
"That's fine," Three promised. "Just shows she spent the energy already."
"You're so weird," muttered Freija.
"I'm right, too. Was right about you from the start. Hard working, good at heart, young, and stupid. And that's with your half ass attempt to look skeevy."
Freija frowned at her with a rude gesture. "Wasn't skeevy. Rise said to come straight from a strike, so that's what I did."
"Shut up."
The Hunter approached her fellow and clapped her hand on the chitinous back, ready for the noise this time, and Yol glanced back at her with a crooked "smile", an open mouth with a slanted bottom jaw. "Good?" She gestured at the Hive and held her other hand out with her thumb sideways and wobbling.
Yol held her own thumb sideways, bounced it down twice then back up. Three clapped her back again and sat down next to her, doing her best to ignore the size difference, and passing her an Acolyte leg.
Yol blinked at it, then at Three, and pointed at it with a confused grunt.
"Shit, I eat 'em, too," Three said with a shrug, drawing out its arm. Singe marks from where she clearly cooked it on a fire at some point marked the red exoskeleton, but not on Yol's. Three bit into the hard shell and broke it to loosen the green-black flesh.
Yol cheerfully picked the leg up and bit similarly, but used the chitin to cut up and hold the meat while she ate both in a bite.
"They taste like shellfish," Three told Freija, not bothering to see if she had anything to think about it.
"I don't eat shellfish either," replied the Titan.
"Why not? It's like fish-fish except you get to play with it and with a smoother texture and there's this taste that isn't... Seriously?" Three turned back to find Freija lying on her back along a tower turret, idly juggling a hammer.
"Maybe there's a species of shellfish I haven't tried, but the ones I have, I didn't like. Didn't think you'd get over the cannibalism thing so fast." The Awoken lifted her head to reveal the perpetually furrowed brow.
Three shrugged wide and turned to sit right. "I eat 'em, too. They probably evolved cannibalism after long enough, the Hive have been rampaging across the universe for longer than we've been a species."
"Our offshoots of humanity are both new but I get your point," Freija conceded. "I don't eat 'em, so I guess I can see why we have different opinions on 'em."
~~
@annieruok94
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martianbugsbunny · 1 year
Text
OUAT Thoughts Pt.29--Episodes 16-17
I have watched through S3E17; spoilers DNI. Also, spoilers warning for anyone further behind than I am.
—Bae’s death was a knife wound. Bae’s funeral was twisting the knife, adding salt, and dunking me in a vat of lemon juice. Everyone who knew him put dirt on his grave—including his son and Hook. Hook is what really gets me.
—Oh, wait. Not everyone. Rumple didn’t even get to be there. That destroyed me. Rumple did everything to find Bae, and still Bae died and Rumple didn’t get to be at his funeral. That’s so fricking unfair.
—My feelings on Regina and the Wicked Witch are b*tch (affectionate) vs. b*tch (derogatory). Regina shows up for their magic duel wearing black, red gloves, and perfect lipstick, and I’m all, “Yes, Queen, look fabulous while you duel 🫶🙌💅.” Zelena spends time getting dressed up for the duel, and I’m like, “Girl, stop being so petty and dramatic, what’s your problem.”
—The last thing Regina needed was a bratty older sister. When it comes to parents, neither of them really got a great draw. Each of them got one decent parent and one really crappy parent. And it’s not like Regina asked for or wanted the life that Zelena is so jealous of—but Zelena is so self-centered, she would never even consider that. I get the feeling Zelena would be an enthusiastic participant in the Trauma Olympics.
—But she got hers. Turning green because she’s jelly of Regina is a hilarious twist.
—Oz is a gorgeous set piece. I don’t know, or care, if it’s actual decor or CGI, it’s absolutely stunning. Gold and vibrant green are just mean to be together.
—While Oz itself is beautiful, I’ve actually found the Oz characters to be disappointing. So far, all we’ve got is the Wicked Witch, the flying monkeys (who barely even count), and a rather fleeting, meaningless encounter with the Wizard. While I do usually love the intertwining of multiple stories with each other, it feels like Oz needs more structure and world-building on its own. Having more of the characters present as their own entities (the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion, Glinda, and that’s just off the top of my head) would have been more rewarding after the long buildup for Oz.
—I’m quite pleased to see the silver slippers. Yeah, the red shoes are iconic, but using the OG silver is splendid.
—I love how Hook gives zero hecks and wears his pirate clothes in Storybrooke. Everyone else wears clothes appropriate to the environment, but Hook is still 99% pirate. (The other 1% is the fake hand he attaches instead of his hook.)
—That one time he wore a knight-like disguise in the Enchanted Forest was a very good moment for him. And for me. That outfit was gorgeous on him.
—Blackbeard was a rather generic pirate. Now, I don’t expect he’s ever going to come up again, at least in any significant capacity, so that’s fine, but he could’ve looked more intimidating. If even Hook is going to be somewhat afraid of him, he should look like the beefiest, wickedest, meanest pirate on the high seas.
—I adore Ariel for preferring swimming to walking. One of the things I hate most about OG!Ariel is that she acts like walking is for some reason superior, even though she’s never frickin tried walking in her life. OUAT Ariel has done both, and now she’s made an informed decision. Not to mention, mermaids having realm-crossing superpowers makes her preference logical (although preferences aren’t always, and don’t have to be).
—Eric’s cloak with the Ursula clasp is dope.
—Just when I thought Hook couldn’t get any angstier, now he has extra drama with Emma. And the word “yearning” has canonically been used to describe his feelings for her, so….
—Rumple being reduced to a slave to Zelena’s whims is killing me. Regardless of which side he fights for, he’s always been a beautiful, lively, crafty, witty man. He’s easy to root for because he’s almost larger than life, because he has complexity and intelligence and vitality. And now he’s been brought so low, and that eternally-entrancing spark in his eyes is gone. While his posture usually reflects his self-confidence, now his back is bent and his shoulders are hunched. Zelena has taken an uncannily bright man and destroyed him. I need somebody, anybody, to rescue him, because the worst part is, nobody can even be there for him because Zelena makes him dangerous. It’s all or nothing, and the nothing he has right now scares me.
—His powers of future sight are terribly inconsistent. Which is easily explained by the difficulty of interpreting the future, but still—how did he not see this coming?
—Regina’s method of training Emma is rather amusing. Also the fact that Emma just had to be extra in her use of magic.
—Poor Snow. She has not only a stubborn husband, but also a stubborn daughter, teaming up to try and build a crib. That baby will be safer sleeping on a table *jk* *don’t leave babies on tables*
—This entire town needs to schedule family therapy sessions with Archie. Sister-to-sister, couples, stepdaughter-to-stepmom, and Henry can have a great-uncle to great-nephew chat with himself. Really, though, these people might consider having conversations instead of internalizing everything and becoming evil. Just a thought.
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chierafied · 2 years
Text
The Silence - Part 6 (SKW2022D6)
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SessKag Week 2022, Day 6
I'm hopelessly pretending that I know the answer [...] And all you are is all I need to know
- Not Broken by Goo Goo Dolls
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Speechless
Time crawled, while Sesshoumaru stayed away from Kagome and waited. While he spent many sleepless nights imagining one disaster after the next. He tried to anticipate how things would turn out and what his mother’s decision would be but it was a wasted effort. There was no way to predict what his mother might do. There was no logic to the demoness, only chaos.
After a while, he tried to push aside the images of doom and disaster. It was better to focus on Kagome instead. Sesshoumaru looked up at the night sky and at the moon, steadily shrinking day by day. He willed it to wane faster, counting the hours until he could have Kagome in his arms again. He sat on the engawa, sipping sake, bathed in the wan moonlight and waited. He’d always been good at waiting, but now impatience jumped around in his blood and had him cursing at the moon.
Until, at last, even the slimmest waning crescent vanished from the sky.
He took flight at sunset, travelling to Edo in all due haste. Usually, he took his time. He let the night fall and waited for the village to quiet down so that it would be safe. So that no one saw, so no one could spread any rumours about Kagome. Tonight, he couldn’t stand any more waiting. Sesshoumaru stole into the village in the shadows between lantern lights, walking on quiet feet past the buildings where he could hear the villagers starting to settle down. One or two humans were up and about, still, but Sesshoumaru took care to avoid them.
Since he was early, her door was not open in welcome as usual. He ignored the pang in his chest as he silently slipped into the hut. 
The pillow thumped to the floor as Kagome jumped at his intrusion. She flopped onto the tatami and clutched at the front of her yukata. 
“Sesshoumaru!” she hissed, her blue eyes wide, her face pale. “You startled me.”
He stood still and stared at her. Drawing her scent into her lungs, it felt like he was able to breathe for the first time in the past two weeks. 
“I wasn’t expecting you for hours yet.” Kagome was frowning now. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes,” he replied. Everything was perfect, now that he was here with her again.
She wrung her hands, her cheeks flushing. “I haven’t even started preparing the tea yet.”
“That does not matter,” he said. Only she did. He had not come for the tea, after all. 
“Come in. Please.”
He inclined his head and walked further into the hut, taking a seat in his usual spot.
Silence settled over them as Kagome hurried over and started to get the tea tray together and lit up the hearth. He watched her, his eyes tracking each move as he drank in the warmth of her like a flower turning towards the sun. Happiness pierced his soul, so deep and potent he couldn’t move a single muscle. It was enough to sit there, all he needed was here and now, in front of his eyes.
There were all these emotions swelling inside him and for the first time ever he wished he could tell her about them. But there were no words big enough to convey all this meaning. Every phrase he could think of sounded poor and pale and they kept getting stuck in his throat. A lifetime spent doing his best to bottle up his feelings did not leave him with the ability to now suddenly express them when they were bursting free.
He let the silence fill his ears and his mouth as he stared at the woman he loved.
Kagome stole a glance at him and then turned away again, busy in her little tasks. He saw the slight twist of her lips and caught a wisp of sadness in the air. Was she melancholy again? Missing her family?
Sesshoumaru reached out, letting his thumb brush against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Tell me what is on your mind,” he prompted her gently.
Her hands paused mid-action. Her eyes turned to him, so big and blue and brimming with silent pain.
Kagome drew in a shaking breath and averted her gaze. “Sango is pregnant again.”
Sesshoumaru leaned to her and let his forehead fall to rest against hers. He reached to take her hand in his, her pretty fingers so cold against his.
“I am sorry,” he breathed, his heart aching for her.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s fine. I’m happy for her.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said, “but it is not fine.”
She gasped and for a moment tears were glimmering in her eyes. 
“No,” she said in a small, choked voice. “I guess it’s not.”
“You are allowed to grieve.”
That earned him a broken laugh from her. “I’ve grieved so much I’ve grown sick of it.”
His eyes searched hers while he squeezed her hands. “Is there any way I can help?”
Kagome’s hands broke free of his grip. Her arms wound around his neck, lashing him like vines. Her lips crashed against his in a desperate fury that tasted like the salt of her tears. His hand found the small of her back and pulled her against him as he deepened the kiss spinning between them. 
All his life he’s kept his distance from everyone. Had not wanted to be involved, not until her. She trembled in his arms now, even as her fierce fingers dug into his skin. His treasure, his miko, his warrior, his beloved. The words were there now as her soft mouth made his blood sing but he couldn’t lend voice to them. All these things he wanted to tell her but he didn’t know how. So he spoke with his fingers, untying the belt of her yukata to get to her skin. He let his lips scream the terms of endearment as his tongue slicked against hers and their passion built. He whispered his love for her with every gesture until the air around them was close to humming.
He crushed her to him. Her legs wound around his waist. Hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth they clung to one another, so entwined he didn’t even know where she ended and he began. It didn’t matter anyway, she was all the answer he needed. 
Sesshoumaru held Kagome to his heart and loved.
--
Part Seven
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schulhz-chen · 1 month
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DESCULPA PELA MINHA IMCOPETENCIA
Yeag now we call champions fables ,nice
I'm SORRY I don't post pages, it's giving a lot of work this joke, now I have to learn how to animate gif in ibis paint, so decide to show how things are, it's the least I do because I'm so bad at what I do
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I write in the one note the plot, each world or sequence in specific is separated by page, I usually write from midnight to 3 am, but the note can be used in more than one device so sometimes I write throughout the day, the sketches I do throughout the day at milder times. The drawings are painted at dawn at the same time I write.
I've also been looking for a consistent style, because I still want everything to be colorful, haste is the enemy of perfection. I've been basing myself on the style of Eizouken, DIY, Azumanga Daioh and Bomberman B-daman Bakugaden himself and fumos from touhou project, the idea is that most of the time the characters are simple as chibis, but at certain times they will be "normal"
fact that the only thing (besides that hackroom situation with the name Coco from earthbound) that gave me the courage to follow this AU more deeply was eizouken, if I need gas I watch eizouken
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I've been working on the Advertence Notice, I sketch it on paper, I paint it in Paint, and fix it in Ibispaint, the idea was for it to only happen after the tutorial, but following the logic it makes more sense to be him, after that I'll paint the sequence of the title.
we will still have the openings, in GIF it would be better, but don't expect a lot of quality, it will be Soramimi cake by Azumanga daioh, I found it more dynamic and easier to do than Saiki.K's, all the script is ready and all that remains is to paint and cheer up, but I'm only going to do that after finishing world 1, which by the way, the writing is already done, the ending will be the first of little with academia Hoshi wo tadoreba (search the translation of the lyrics, beautiful) it happens at the end of season 1, so I'll leave it until we get to recorded world part 2
I'm currently in Magic school, and I've been trying to imitate the side missions and phases too, I've been having trouble finding a parallel story for Laura. which probably won't happen in the same place as the magic school, maybe, I don't know, it's difficult to think of exchanges that make sense in such complex and unfinished stories, help.
And speaking of shivering, as this is a comic, I don't have to worry about maps (although I might draw them) so I decided to make the first part of shivering separate from the second, the first after magic school and the second after dungeon .
I'll be honest, if it's too much work I'll remove a lot of the content from the side missions.
The fact is, I still need to adjust the nightmare mode and then make do with the inferno mode
In the end, the Twitter poll will make me choose whether to focus more on the main story
I have more writing lore than drawing, sorry, but things like the title, the warning sign and the anime opening will probably be released out of date, when it is released on Twitter they will follow the schedule.
Love you guys
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crypticcodexcreations · 2 months
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So uh. Hi? Where have I been? Oh, you know. I feel like I should make a post about it, but I really don't know if I'm gonna actually post this. We'll see. Gonna put it under the cut because I know I'm going to get rambly and maybe a little personal.
I guess first things first: I haven't written in months now. Not a damn thing. So that's part of why I haven't been posting. I just. Haven't had it in me to do it. Doesn't cross my mind most days, and the days it does, I fall into the trap of overthinking, just not really wanting to work on anything I've already started, etc. Part of it might just be that I don't do well in winter mentally.
Another thing on my mind has been falling into the problem of discouraging myself for not finishing things. I planned originally to use NaNo as a chance to see if I could actually do it. And then I fell down the stairs and while I wasn't seriously hurt, I was too sore to sit in my chair and write for long enough that all desire to even try was out the window. I get thinking about how a big part of what makes me happy writing is sharing it, and then think about how disappointing it is for some people to encounter a story that never gets finished, and I sit there, and as much as I try, I can't help but tell myself I suck for not being able to finish stories, how I'm never going to get anywhere with actually making these sorts of things a Real Public Thing if I can't just fucking FINISH something. And then I don't want to do it anymore.
So. That's where I'm at. In all honesty, I probably have a lot of things going on in my head, but none of it is diagnosed, and I'm just constantly guessing at what will help, what will work. And... I'm tired of guessing all the time only for things to either not work, or only work sometimes, or randomly stop working. And I think what I need most is to figure out how to just let that fucking frustration out, figure out how to just have fun with being a writer again. And I have no idea how. It might draw me back to Reapers at some point as... Well, Emily is just a younger me. But for now though, I just don't know what the fuck I need, or want, or what will help and I just want to scream. I've never been good at letting these kinds of thoughts out of my head, especially directly to others. I grew up feeling like I had to be perfect, had to have everything together, and it's hard to unlearn that shit alone. It's also hard because I have people around me who I logically KNOW want to help. But my stupid brain refuses to believe it, says I can't afford to not be perfect. No matter how many times people tell me they don't want me to be perfect and handle everything myself and that they want to help me, it just won't go away.
This got kind of personal and raw... I should probably end it here and stop oversharing on the internet... I don't know in all honesty what's going on with me. As bleak as all this probably sounds, it doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. For me, not writing ever again would be like taking a fish completely out of water for the rest of their life and expecting them to be fine. But I also don't know what I need to do next and how to get there. I'm around, even if not posting. Just been too fucked up to do anything, I'll be back. Just don't really know when or how.
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aglimpseofthings · 5 months
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To be an adult
So here what I feel when I know I have been entering the real adult life
I am my own map maker
Life as an adult is totally different with the time when I was in school. During the school life, my life was just following the general map, to have a class, a week of exam days, or the day when I received a report, and a new season to step into next grade. When I hit my adult life, I realise that life does not provide me a general map anymore. it is the time that I have to draw my own map and it has always been the hardest thing to do. When I draw my own map, it looks like it is not as exciting as what others make. But then I perceive that comparing my map with others will never make my map perfect, it will just make myself forget about enjoying the life I create. So instead of looking others' map, now I am learning to improve my own.
I don't know where to go and that's okay
Several times in my life, I faced the days when I was so clueless and did not know what to do next. There was one time in life, the only thing I knew was I had to make 10,000 steps a day because i was jobless. But then, suddenly my dad sent me a scholarship brochure and I did register for it with intention "at least I know what to do besides having 10,000 steps a day" and everything just fell into places, I got the scholarship and finished my study. After having those clueless time, I come into this perception that life is just like hiking a mountain, it's okay to have a break during the journey, just to sit down, see the surrounding, and do nothing but to be mindful with every breath i take, later when I feel just right, I will always back on the track and continue the journey.
Be ready to be alone
Living far from home and relying everything on myself are never easy things. There are moments that I feel I am so lonely and I do not have a person to reason with. My friends are busy to build their lives, my siblings are busy with their things, my parents are in their deep sleep when I try to call them after work. Then I learn that being adult must be ready to be alone and be common with it.
Less expect!
The most annoying thing I must confront as an adult is expectation. Round and round, I have always been trying to arrange my life to meet what is inside my mind, like i will do A,B,C to get X,Y,Z. However, life doesn't always adhere to this logic. Despite my best efforts at A, B, and C, it often surprises me with outcomes like O, M, and N instead. I still have not had the best way to deal with it. But yeah, to be friend with less expectation has always been a good idea.
Heuhh....adult life is so hard...
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stop-him · 5 months
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Be Honest, Art is Worthless to You
I remain - well, I don't know - surprised? baffled? dismayed? - at the number of takes that cross my path that complain about AI art, and how it's stealing from artists. That itself isn't the issue so much as then those same people turn around and almost in their very next breath justify some form of art piracy - music, movies, and so on.
I submit to you: this is the world you built, and you have no standing upon which to express outrage over AI now, because this is simply the logical extension of how we treat art. One poster put it like this: "companies need to learn that they're competing with free". That right there is brilliantly accurate and at the same time the very symptom of the problem. Why go see a movie or buy a DVD when you can sign up to a streaming service with hundreds of shows for the price of one each month? Why sign up for a streaming service when you can bum a password off a friend or relative? And then you loudly complain about how some new season's special effects are crap or the animation's all janky, and my dudes, that shit costs money, money which you are dead set against spending.
I get it: times are tough, the economy sucks, sure. And you are fortunate enough to live in a time where technology enables the taking of art without paying money. Let me tell you (cue someone with the Man Yells At Cloud meme), when I was young and I couldn't afford all the albums I wanted, I had to budget and make hard choices and set priorities, because stealing a vinyl LP was not nearly as easy as freeloading off the Internet. Nowadays, people can get anything they want all the time, so they come to believe they are entitled to everything, all the time. At least as far as media goes.
And in the graphic arts, like drawing and such, it's not like the signs haven't long been painted in bright day-glo colors, warning of exactly this fate. Anyone who's an artist or follows artists has heard horror stories of the entitled would-be commissioner who demands high-quality work and then is outraged to the point of abusiveness when expected to pay more than a couple bucks for it. We hold these people up as assholes of the highest order but then expect a band to let us have their music for free. "Go on tour! Sell merch!" we say. A person spends their youth practicing guitar or the drums so they can become a glorified t-shirt salesman.
So how could it be any shock or surprise that AI developers would treat the entire visual library of the Internet as their own personal reservoir of data? Why not? What ethical rule do we use for media that would stand in their way? Why should graphic artists and illustrators be treated any differently than musicians or filmmakers?
No, this is the life people asked for, only some people didn't expect that system to turn around and bite them.
Frankly, I've lost the will to argue with people about piracy itself - the rationalizations are too entrenched and cross-pollinated. Cue another meme, of the two muscular men clasping hands: one is a Communist who thinks all art should be free and the other is an Anarcho-Capitalist who's certain that free is the perfect market value as long as you can get it.
So you do you, kids - but admit it, to yourselves if not out loud, that you don't actually value art that much, if you can't give an artist so much as the price of a value meal at McDonald's in exchange for their work. And then, when the crowd clamoring for free art eternally and always turns and begins to chew at your own art and industry, don't be surprised when you encounter a certain lack of sympathy.
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denimbex1986 · 7 months
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'Picture the scene, if you will: It’s sometime in the Before Time, in the blissful ignorance of the late 2010s, and I tell you about two new summer movies that are about to premiere. One is a superhero flick featuring the long-awaited return of an iconic actor in the role that made his career. The other is a prestige, 3-hour-long biopic that consists almost entirely of a bunch of guys sitting in rooms talking. Which one would you expect to flop, and which one would you bet on to bring in almost a billion dollars worldwide? Yes, that’s purely rhetorical.
It’s a funny thing to think about, though, because earlier this year I was excited about two summer releases that fit those exact descriptions. But it seems that in our topsy-turvy, post-pandemic world, the box office really has been turned upside down because Oppenheimer became a worldwide sensation just about a month after The Flash crashed and burned. (Yes, this is me admitting I was excited for The Flash. Just roll with it.) What the heck happened?
As a movie lover generally and a champion of the theatrical experience more specifically, I will admit to being particularly anxious about the fate of the cinema as an institution after the pandemic. We all spent the better part of two years cooped up in our apartments, avoiding any semblance of crowded public spaces, and learned to just stream the latest blockbusters from the comfort of our living rooms. It’s only logical that after getting so comfortable with couch viewing, it would take more than a little coaxing to get us all back in line for the popcorn. My fear is that, when push comes to shove, not enough of us will be lured back to keep the cinema as we know it alive. And there’s good reason for me to feel that way, as the aggregate box office numbers are still significantly below where they were in 2019.
Do the shocking financial performances of The Flash and Oppenheimer offer us some clues as to the secrets of the weird post-COVID box office? Maybe, but first and foremost they tell us a great deal about those two movies. Context is everything, after all. The Flash is a long-delayed movie starring an actor who is more famous for assaulting people than for their filmography, all set in a cinematic universe that was announced by the studio (itself suffering the growing pains of a recent merger) to be defunct about 6 months before the film’s release. Oppenheimer, on the other hand, is the passion project of one of the most recognizable big-movie directors of our time—himself a significant box office draw—starring a murderer’s row of A-list actors that benefitted from a viral social media association with Barbie, the summer’s biggest movie in the lead up to its release. So yeah, there’s that.
But I do think these two movies tell us a little more than that. They are the perfect illustration of the truth of the current box office, which is that people won’t just go to the movies reflexively anymore. Gone are the days of paying to see absolute schlock because you’re at least out of the house. Indoor activities simply aren’t anyone’s first idea of a good time these days. (As a side note, I’ll point out that there’s evidence, at least in places like my home base of Richmond, that people are turning to outdoor entertainment like minor league baseball instead.) If people are going to leave the cushy, inviting embrace of their couches, you’re going to have to show them something new and enticing.
And as The Flash can attest, we’ve all seen plenty of superhero movies already. But it’s been a while since we all had a chance to see something directed by Christopher Nolan (Tenet doesn’t count because, you know, COVID), and even longer since we’ve seen anything with Josh Hartnett in it. That probably has something to do with why Oppenheimer is likely to outgross four of the last six MCU releases by the end of its run...
I do strongly believe that the movie theater business will have to adapt to our post-COVID environment, where people won’t show up to the cinema quite like they used to. That could be a good thing too, as lower attendance will likely force filmmakers to lower their budgets. I’d love nothing more than to see the demise of the bloated, behemothic, in favor of more mid-budget and independent films. You heard me right: Give me less Fast X. Bring on the Cocaine Bear.'
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We are human, what do we know about the future.
Here im writing another paragraph for you that I thought i would never do.
Life is full of mystery. Hours ago, i could still feel your skin against mine, now were miles away, Im on the sky.
We shared ourtime together today, but tonight when you recieve this message, were already in different timezone.
If i look back at myself 2 month ago before i came to bali, i was a different person. Day by day passed, i did enjoy every single day in bali whether or not it exhilarates.
Yes, i forced my self to enjoy and forget how messed up i was, trying to escape from my life, brought me there floating in the middle of nescience, loosing my direction surrounded by ignorances. Looking for something i didnt even know.
My second month of my stay was different.
June, 28th.
I met him.
I would never forget our first conversation that he was asking me 3 times if i wanted to learn how to play chess. And i replied with 3 words “i love chess”
I thought from the beginning it was clear enough how weird we could be.
I know i was impressed. By his chess.
But i didnt realize at first how my heart, mind, and body were impressed more than only by his chess.
Anita, she wasnt looking for someone to fall for. She thought love was not for her. So that it is hard for her to get attracted by a guy but it seems so easy the way you did.
I know that i had never given you compliments bcs this feeling is strange for me and i wasnt sure. Imagine getting an extreme levels of comfort from someone who you shared weird experience with before when your brain couldnt even process the logic.
For sure it doesnt mean i didnt see anything good in him.
If i have to say everything that i like about him, i promise he gotta fly so high, even higher then where i am right now.
He is more than what I have ever expected how a perfect guy could be. I thought my definition of a gentle man was too high and that kind of person doesnt exist. But now i know it wasnt true.
Days spent with you.
Slowly my lifestyle fixed, my mind relaxed, and my eyes opened. I didnt have to force to enjoy every moment anymore. I enjoyed anyway.
Youve changed my monochromatic days into pink, blue, yellow, and red. Now it is as beautiful as a kids drawing with limitless imagination. You impact my life in many good ways.
Most of my best experiences in bali was when me and him were becoming us.
I love the way he does me, i couldnt ask for more. I love the way i do him. I wouldnt get sick of it.
I felt his warm touching my cold eyes and now its melting into tears. I cant define if it is sorrow or pleasure, perhaps both but i need that.
With all of my heart i am saying thank-you for taking some parts on my life, i am glad.
im proud of you.
Promise me you will always keep being yourself.
With Love
-Random crazy girl
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