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#someone else reblogged the comic onto my dash
unpretty · 5 months ago
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Ari is like that bee orchid. Vaelon is gone. Like two people remember him. But every time someone looks at Ari's face they see a picture.
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charincharge · a year ago
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Cruel Summer, Part 20
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cruel summer masterlist
AN: This was supposed to be ready hours ago. SORRY. Only five chapters to go. Have I mentioned how much I appreciate all of you who read, reblog and review this? It has seriously brightened up a shitty time in my life.
Rowan feels like he’s barely slept when Aelin’s alarm goes off. He grumbles and pulls her closer, so he can bury his face into her shoulder, away from the thick rays of sunshine pouring through her window. “No…” he groans.
“Yes,” Aelin laughs as she turns over to face him. Her finger traces over his lips, and he kisses it softly. Her eyes lock with his, and he can’t help the warmth that blooms in his chest at her staring.
“What?” he asks, kissing her finger again. Her eyes flit across his face, observing him closely.
“You’re pretty in the morning,” she says, and Rowan narrows his eyes at her.
“Pretty?” he asks, incredulous. She nods and giggles quietly as Rowan climbs on top of her, pinning her hands beside her head on the mattress. “I’ll show you pretty…” he growls. His lips dive onto her neck, and he can feel her laughter against his chest.
They both hear her door open and slam at the same time. They freeze, their heads turning in the direction of the noise, praying against all odds that it isn’t one of Aelin’s parents.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”
Dorian stands with his back pressed against Aelin’s door, his hand covering his face again. Rowan sighs a breath of relief and rolls off the bed. He can’t believe how close that came to being a nightmare. They really need to be more careful. He grabs his work uniform, which is crumpled on the floor and pulls his pants on quickly.
“Dor?” Aelin asks from under her covers. “Why are you in my room?”
“I volunteered to wake you up,” he says, eyes still closed. “I had a feeling. Your entire family is downstairs. It’s Saturday, remember?”
“Shit,” Aelin mumbles as she rushes to her closet and throws on shorts and a tank top.
Rowan looks at the clock. Thirty minutes until works starts. And he has no idea how he’s going to escape this house with Aelin’s entire family downstairs. It’s not like he can climb out her window – he’d be spotted in a second.
Dorian finally cracks his eyes open and sees that everyone is fully dressed and relaxes slightly. He nods to Rowan, who nods back uncomfortably.
As they exchange hellos, Aelin heads straight into her bathroom and plugs in her curling iron. Rowan stands in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. He shoves his hands into his pockets and watches as Aelin starts wrapping her hair around the hot metal rod. She examines her bruise in the mirror and dabs some makeup over it with her free hand.
“Dor?” Aelin calls from the bathroom. “Can you tell my family that I am curling my hair, but I will meet them at the park shortly?” She pokes her head out of the bathroom. “Just, get them out of the house quickly. Please,” she implores him with wide eyes, and Dorian salutes her and takes off.
By the time Aelin’s hair is curled, and her family has officially left the premises, Rowan has about five minutes to make it to work. He kisses Aelin and makes a mad dash for the park.
“See you there,” Aelin calls out after him as he takes off into a quick sprint. His cross-country skills are put to the test as his feet sink through the sand with every step. By the time he reaches the park entrance, he’s only one minute late. He’s impressed with himself.
Breathing hard, he slows to a brisk walk, making his way through the throngs of crowds lined up to get in.
Rowan pauses, his brain finally catching up to him, and looks around. The park is packed. Shockingly crowded.
The line of cars to enter the park is so long, it extends past the parking lot and onto the street, and at the front gate, a hefty crowd is gathered, waiting to get in.
“What the fuck?” Rowan mumbles to himself.
Inside the park, a very stressed out Lorcan mans the admissions booth with Fenrys. “Rowan!” he calls out. “You’re here! Come help us.”
Rowan apologizes for being late, but Lorcan just attributes it to the long line of cars and waves Rowan off. He’s just grateful for the help.
As Rowan starts handing out tickets and wristbands, he finally asks Lorcan what the hell is going on. Apparently, the park was featured on some big reality show called Hometown Hotspots earlier in the week, and the park is seeing the after effects. Lorcan has never been more stressed. He’s not exactly a people person, and these people are impatient, entitled, and anxious to get into the park. Rowan feels for him.
The overflow of people is never ending, and Rowan ends up staying at admissions until well into the afternoon. He barely has time to even think about missing Aelin, being kept so busy. Until, finally, he checks his phone during his lunch break and sees he has a slew of texts from her.
WHOA, what’s up with these crowds???
You were so busy this morning, you didn’t even see me come in! Luckily, Fenrys was far more cordial ;)
Rowan glares at Fenrys, who eats his lunch across the table from him. He can’t believe he didn’t’ even see Aelin enter the park.
Lys wants me to tell you that she knows this is not a curler burn. *facepalm*
Gavin heard your name and got excited, and now my family is insisting you join us for dinner.
You’re going to go down in history as being Gavin’s favorite person ever, just for buying him cotton candy that ONE TIME.
Rowan can’t help but smile at this phone screen, despite how tired he already is. He texts back quickly.
I’ll be there.
At the last second, he adds a red heart emoji and sends it. He’s never been an emoji person before, mostly using texting for utilitarian purposes only. But with Aelin, he can’t help himself. It’s silly, he knows. But the red heart sitting in his texts is his silent way of opening up more. Of silently insinuating the three words he’s tried to push to the back of his head and not let overtake his thoughts. He smiles when Aelin immediately returns his text with three kissing face emojis.
He must be smiling like a mad man, because Lorcan chuckles loudly as he takes a seat next to Rowan and asks, “How’s your girlfriend?”
Rowan’s smile disappears as Fenrys perks up from across the table. “You have a girlfriend?”
“Uhh… no… not really…” Rowan fumbles his words.
Lorcan senses his mistake and flashes Rowan and apologetic glance.
But Fenrys is undeterred. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Rowan,” Fenrys pouts, sounding all of his young age. “So… who is she? Townie? Someone who works here? Rich summer home crowd?”
“Someone way out of your league, kiddo,” Lorcan says, slapping his large hand onto Fenrys’s shoulder. His voice is gruff, but Rowan sees the hears the affection in his tone. He weirdly feels like he’s turned a corner with Lorcan. Maybe they could even be friends.
“It’s nothing,” Rowan assures Fenrys, who still looks on with hopeful eyes, begging for scraps of information. “It’s super low key, so we haven’t gone public, or whatever.”
“Then how come Lorcan knew?” His whining would be almost comical if Rowan didn’t want to exit the conversation so badly.
Luckily, Lorcan saves him. “Caught them in the break room the other night.” He pauses. “Which, no one should be doing, by the way.”
“What should we not be doing?” Elide asks, entering with a giant funnel cake in her hands. She’s followed by Connall and Vaughan and Gavriel, which means that Rowan’s lunch break is up. He groans. He’s not ready to deal with those crowds again. And if the group’s faces are any indication, nothing has slowed in the minutes he took off to eat. Elide looks exhausted.
“Making out in the break room,” Rowan laughs.
“Oh please,” Elide scoffs. “What do you think Lorcan and I do every night when you guys leave?” Elide wiggles her eyebrows at Lorcan, who turns bright red. His hands tug at his long hair, unsure what to do with himself. Rowan can tell he wants to be mad at Elide, but he thinks Lorcan is physically incapable of actually getting angry with her.
“Ellie,” he whines, but she just giggles as she stuffs a piece of funnel cake into her mouth. Her lips become coated in powdered sugar, and she purses her lips and motions to Lorcan.
“Come get some sugar.” She winks, and Lorcan looks conflicted as he looks at her lips and everyone else in the room. Ultimately, Elide’s lips win, and Lorcan leans down and gives her a quick kiss as everyone else in the room whoops. His entire body is flushed as he narrows his eyes at the bystanders.
“Not a word,” he warns.
Fenrys sighs loudly. “Man, did everyone get a girlfriend this summer but me?” he asks. Connall and Vaughan sit down next to him, and as the conversation turns to summer gossip, Rowan extracts himself and heads to the kiddie section of the park, where he’ll be on rotation all afternoon.
The rest of the day is even more miserable than the first half. Children are crying, upset with waiting for hours and missing their nap times; Rowan sympathizes – he’d love a nap, too. The crowds become angrier the longer they have to wait, and Rowan realizes the park is not equipped for this many people. They have no idea how to manage the crowds. And he almost witnesses a full on riot when one of the food stands runs out of ice cream bars. It’s a mess.
Somehow, he manages to keep his cool with the angry patrons, and he practically runs back to the Ashryvers’ as soon as the day is finished.
The entire family, plus Dorian, sits outside on their back patio as Emrys brings out platters of food, which smell absolutely delicious. Fleetfoot waits happily under the table, tail wagging, ready for scraps to fall. Rowan’s stomach rumbles as he approaches, seeing the spread of salads, biscuits and corn on the cobb.
“Wine?” Aelin offers him a large glass, and Rowan accepts it happily.
Gavin runs straight for his legs and wraps his tiny arms around them. He pats the top of the small boy’s head, unable to interact much more than that in his current state of exhaustion.
“Oh, sweetie, I can get you a beer, if you prefer,” Evalin says, but Rowan shakes his head and takes a large sip of the cold wine. “You look utterly exhausted.” She holds out a chair, and Rowan slinks into it without a second thought.
“The park was…” Rowan begins, but he stops himself short, not wanting to insult his bosses. Aelin sees it in his face.
“A nightmare?” Rhoe laughs. “We know.” He fills his own glass again. “We left early in the afternoon. We were not ready for those crowds.”
Evalin sighs. “The board is meeting about it tomorrow. We need to come up with some kind of solution other than hiring people to help with the parking lot. Luckily, this summer is almost over. But if this is how it is next summer… We need to get organized.”
Rowan thought the same thing throughout the day, but he’s unsure if he should bring up his suggestion. He knows his opinion likely holds no weight with this family, despite how outwardly friendly they are to him.
“Have you ever been to Disneyland?” Rowan asks, deciding to speak up after all.
“The competition?” Evalin raises an eyebrow, and Rowan becomes slightly self-conscious. He takes another sip of his wine. But Evalin cracks a smile, clearly teasing him, and Rowan relaxes. “I’m kidding. Yes, we’ve been there. But not since Aelin was nearly a baby.” Evalin smiles wider, staring at her daughter. “All Aelin wanted to do was to meet Mickey. It’s all she talked about the entire trip. We waited for over two hours to meet him, and when we got to the front, she screamed bloody murder. Just cried and cried…”
Aedion laughs loudly. “Oh my god, I remember that. She was terrified of him.”
Aelin frowns. “Okay, when you’re a toddler and you love Mickey, you expect him to be the size of a mouse, not a GIANT.” She shudders. “I still don’t like the characters.”
Rowan laughs and rubs her arm reflexively. He only realizes what he’s done when Dorian catches his eye. He pulls his hand away quickly, and prays no one noticed. Aelin seems unfazed as she sips more of her wine.
“A-anyway,” Rowan continues, “I know Disney is very different from Playland, but… the one thing they’re great at is crowd control.”
Rhoe and Evalin nod in agreement, so Rowan continues.
“Besides hiring people to direct car traffic and foot traffic, which, is definitely an important part of it – I think they really got a handle on things when they created their app,” he explains. “It’s an interactive map of the park where you can check ride wait times, see the daily schedule, preorder food, make reservations…” Rowan looks around the table and notices all eyes are on him, listening with rapt attention. “Playland isn’t big enough to need all of that, but it couldn’t hurt to have some of it. Everyone loves an app.”
“That’s not a terrible idea.” Evalin looks to Rhoe.
Lysandra turns toward Rowan and narrows her eyes. “Rowan, weren’t you telling us you used to work as a programmer for a start up?” she asks, and Rowan nods uncomfortably. He doesn’t like this many eyes on him. Especially when he’s talking about himself.
“You did?” Rhoe asks.
“Yeah. Not for very long,” Rowan admits. “The start up went under pretty quickly. Bad investors.” He pauses, then continues. “But I did computer engineering for the Army before then. I could make you a mock up, if you wanted?”
“That is very sweet to offer,” Evalin says, her voice sounding too saccharine to Rowan’s ears. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere near that step yet.”
Rowan smiles, but he can’t help but feel like he’s been blown off. He should have known they only see him as park staff. He does appreciate Lysandra taking him seriously, though.
The conversation dies down as Emrys brings out a large plate of brightly colored lobsters. Rowan can count the amount of times he’s had lobster on one hand. It’s a delicious luxury, one that Rowan absolutely loves, but is completely inexperienced with. He watches Aelin pull the claws with a slight twist away from the body and crack the shell, pulling the meat out. He mimics her actions, but somehow ends up crushing the shell into multiple pieces with his clumsy fingers.
As Aelin dips her piece into butter and drops it into her mouth, she sees Rowan’s struggle and leans over to help.
“Here,” she whispers as she takes her knife and cracks open the knuckles for him. He feels like a child. In fact, he notices Lysandra doing the same thing for Gavin and Evie.
“I can do it,” he protests, but Aelin has already finished cracking it for him. He sighs as she moves to twist off the tail, hoping his cheeks aren’t red with the embarrassment he feels.
His embarrassment fades quickly, though, when he sees Evalin reaching over to do the same thing to Rhoe’s lobster. Rowan looks at Aelin, who doesn’t seem to realize she’s completely mirroring her parents’ behavior and smiles behind the rim of his wine glass, which has been magically refilled.
Dinner is just as delicious as Rowan hoped it’d be, and by the end of the night he’s feeling sated and sleepy and buzzed on wine. Evalin tells him he should spend the night, since he’s not safe to drive yet, but Rowan can’t actually justify wearing his gross uniform again tomorrow. And as loathe as he is to spend a night away from Aelin, he knows he needs to go home.
“I can stay for another hour or so and sober up and then head home,” Rowan says, but his large yawn gives away his current state of fatigue.
“We can give you a ride if you want?” Lysandra offers, and Aedion readily agrees, but Rowan isn’t sure how he’d get to work the next morning without his truck.
“Fireheart, are you sober?” Rhoe asks, and Aelin nods. Rowan did notice she stopped drinking after her first glass of wine. He should have, too, but she just kept refilling it. It barely takes Rowan a second to realize that Aelin was trying to get him drunk, trying to get him to stay over. He shakes his head, sorry for her failed efforts.
“Why don’t you drive Rowan home, and then you can take an Uber back home?”
Aelin agrees, and says she’ll be quiet coming back in, in case her parents are asleep. After a round of goodbyes, Aelin and Rowan walk back to his truck where it’s still in the far corner of the Playland parking lot.
He tosses her the keys and watches as she moves her hand over the gears. As they drive, Rowan realizes he’s never seen Aelin behind the wheel before, and there’s something incredibly sexy about watching her maneuver his giant truck. By the time they reach Rowan’s street, Rowan can’t wait any longer. As soon as Aelin parks, he pulls her over to his lap and kisses her.
She squeals as he plants sloppy kisses on her face. Their kisses become more heated as it continues, so much that the windows start to steam up. His hands roam across her back and slide up her tank top, relishing in her bare skin. He just wants her all the time. Always.
Aelin pulls away and smiles. “I thought you were tired.”
“I am,” Rowan admits through another yawn. “That’s why if you come up, you’re going to have to do all the work.”
Aelin snorts, making Rowan laugh. It’s the cutest thing in the world. When she snorts. No other girl could make snorting cute, but Aelin somehow manages to.
“This is what you get for getting me drunk,” he says, letting her know he was well aware of her plan.
Aelin snickers as she opens the door and slides off his lap. She pulls on his arms, and Rowan stumbles out of the cab. And when they get upstairs, Aelin shows Rowan she’s more than happy to do all the work, and then some.
Rowan’s drunk heart feels like it’s going to explode as she moves on top of him, and he has to physically stop himself from saying the three words he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about all day. I love you, he thinks to himself. I never want you to leave. I want to be with you forever.
His resistance snaps. He’s too tired, too ready to put his entire heart into this thing. The lid he’s tried so carefully to keep on his feelings, explodes. The dam bursts, crumbling and cracking under the weight of his emotions, and he lets them tumble out, spilling everywhere, coating his skin where she touches him. He is lost to her, and he’s ready to burn.
~*~*~*~*~
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cannibal-wings · 9 months ago
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I have a lot of thoughts, and I’m going to try not to ramble too much. (But lets be real I will) Now that the consistent Ao3 donation drive drama is starting to die down, I just want to say something. Every year this happens, it’s not new. People get really, really, mad about other people donating to a website instead of personally funding every gofundme that exists and somehow ending nation/world wide wealth inequality, racism, and health care disparity. For the record, if we round up their donations it was 280K, if we assume everyone donated just 20$ that’s only like about 13K people. The site has 3.5 MILLION registered users and many more unregistered users. For some more references, quite a few kickstarters I backed recently made pretty hefty sums, 160K with only around 1K backers, 75K with about 1K backers, 85K with just 700 backers. Like, come the fuck on. A really, really, REALLY, small percentage of total registered users kicked some cash their way and people lose their goddamn minds. Twice, every year. I really do wonder if these people get this angry at others for renewing their streaming services, or buying comic books, or video games. Those industries rake in the cash every year and yet people still give them money??? How could they??? It also assumes that every person who donates a couple bucks to Ao3 doesn’t also donate to people’s fundraisers, or donate to local organizations, or volunteer their time. It’s so needlessly judgemental, but again, this happens every year. People decide for one or two weeks to hyper police what some people did with some spending money. People tell each other to die over this. Ridiculous. Get some perspective. But this year, this year the posts I saw either thrown on my dash or by checking through the tag, were unusually mean spirited, and not at the website, but the people who use it. In particular, what really rubbed me the wrong way, was how casually insulting they were to authors and readers both.
Like, ones that say “Writing fanfiction isn’t a personality trait”. Ok, I’ll put myself in the spotlight here. I write. I don’t distinguish my writing fanfiction from my novel work, they both require about the same amount of time, effort, and care. To me, it’s just writing. At work or school during those “get to know you” games when asked what my hobbies are, or what is important to me, I usually answer, “Writing, reading, riding my horse, plants, and animal studies with a focus on birds and salamanders.” I don’t think anyone reading this is going to argue with me that those are pretty tame aspects of my life. But if I somehow replaced “write” with “write fanfiction” now suddenly I’m cringe extraordinaire. Look, fandom shouldn’t be your only personality trait, but writing fanfiction can absolutely be one of them. Writing is writing, and writing is something that can be deeply personal and important to you. What you write isn’t as important as how it makes you feel. I’m an adult. I can handle someone taking the piss and insulting what I do as not important, and I can handle people telling me that what I do isn’t really worth anything and isn’t enough to be a part of my life. It’s fine. They’re an asshole. I can deal. But sometimes I think about the young writers, who already think that what they’re doing isn’t important and meaningless and cringe. And when they hear something like “Writing fanfiction isn’t a part of you” and just... stop writing. And I think that’s an incredible loss. The other types of posts that I saw this year, and a bit last year if I’m being honest, that also ruffle my feathers, are the whole, “fanfiction didn’t get you through COVID!” And like, sure. Ok. Technically you’re right. Me, writing fanfic, didn’t get me through COVID. I got myself through it by calling my electric company to discuss payments while I was unemployed. I got through it by rationing my remaining food and eating like shit until I got a new job. I got through it by applying to places and putting myself on the front line for money so I could keep a roof over my head. I did that. No one else did it for me. BUT. This is so fucking mean spirited I can’t even begin to describe my disgust. This casual dismissal of other peoples thoughts and feelings. Like, writing did get me through COVID, just not in a monetary way. Just because it didn’t pay the damn bills doesn’t mean it didn’t help my anxiety over the future and my seasonal depression that turned into a year’s worth of depression. And how dare you tell other people that the little joys fanfiction brought them over the past year don’t matter. How fucking dare you? We saw people flock to video games like Animal Crossing and Among Us, we saw people gravitate towards streamed shows like the Mandalorian, people listened to music, sometimes just the same album over and over again, people drew, and read books and comics, and supported webcomics and held onto some podcasts like a lifeline. Media is vitally important to the mental well being of a lot of people. As stress relief, as a distraction from reality, to make them happy. These are all really fucking valid and good things. People turn to art all the time when things sucks. Just because it’s “fanfiction” doesn’t make it suddenly less important to a person. If these posts had been more like, “Remember, you’re stronger than you think you are, your media consumption didn’t solely get you through tough times, you did too. Take some pride in your own strength.” I wouldn’t have been at all upset. Because that’s true. You are all so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, and it’s important to not attribute getting through dark times solely to media consumption. But that’s not the tone these posts took. They were all pretty mocking of authors and readers for even daring to suggest that reading and writing fanfiction could help them.
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Image Description: An Archive of Our Own comment reading, “I find myself coming back to this fic over and over again, spending a day or so reading through it every couple of months. It's just so incredible how you've made such a compelling story so far, and even when I come back and see that it hasn't updated, I'm not upset in the slightest. This fic brought me a lot of comfort during the worst days of the virus, and I can't wait (That's a lie, I can and have been waiting) for the next update, whether it be in a few days or a few years.” End Image Description.
This is an actual comment I’ve gotten on one of my fics.Do you honestly want me to tell this person that that their feelings of comfort my writing gave them during the pandemic were bullshit? Fuck all the way off. You fucking assholes. This is a goddamn honor, I’m honored that I was able to give someone a small bit of comfort through writing a story for them to read.
Look, it’s fine to hate Ao3. You can despise the website and everything it stands for. You can hate every single user, every member. That’s your right. But for fucks sake stop taking potshots at the people writing stories for others for free on the internet. Trivializing writing fanfic as worthless also isn’t a revolutionary take, but there’s a reason even published author defend it as legitimate writing. This is already far too long, but just... At the end of the day can we all just be a little more kind to each other? Honestly? It’s hard to be kind. It’s way easier to spew hate and put others down. It’s far easier to make someone feel stupid or silly for having an attachment to an online story. If you found yourself reblogging these types of posts, the ones who instead of shitting on Ao3 as a site, instead turned their anger towards people telling and reading stories. Maybe just stop for a moment, and think about why you’re so eager to spread vitriol instead of support.
If you’re a person who found themselves reblogging these types of things, think about the friends you have who write, or the authors you yourself might read stories from. Do you think they’d appreciate knowing how little you view what they’ve given you? Do you think they’d feel good reading frankly toxic posts about how none of this matters and we should all die? Just, something to think about, is all. Be kind, on and offline.
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robbiedaymonds · 5 months ago
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tagged by @tennant & @hvitserkk & @bayekofsiwas to talk about myself so ofc i will 💖💖 thanks!
tagging just a few people here + anyone who sees this and wants to do it! @dreadwollf @challengerblue @actuallylorelaigilmore @padmeschildren @monae & @perfectopposite
1: Why did you choose your url? okay long story! so 3 or 4 years ago i was on my old blog and i was dying for a canon (enough) ahsoka tano url and i found this one. i decided to throw caution to the wind and messaged the saved url and they were so gracious to give it to me! i had this url for 2 years on my other blog then got antsy and changed it 3x before i made this new blog. i was trying out old urls for a while now and then i just wanted something comfortable and familiar so i brought this one back! it also reminds me of how much i love ahsoka tano. 
2: Any side blogs? kinda! i have @jamiemadrox for comic book edits and then i’m a part of (but don’t own or admin) tvcentric and starwarsblr
3: How long have you been on tumblr? ya’ll really gonna ask me this? lol um....i think it was mid or late 2008 because i got onto tumblr for bbc merlin lol
4: Do you have a queue tag? i just use “queue”
5: Why did you start your blog in the first place? well originally eons ago was for merlin and to post the livejournal-esque graphics i made for my original stories. i took a break for a year or two and when i came back on the original mastertano i was brought back by “the gifted” on fx and here i’ve stayed (well, with a blog move lol).
6: Why did you choose your icon/pfp? i love sylvie more than life itself and @perfectopposite is one of my favorite icon makers so it was a no brainer to use one of her icons!
7: Why did you choose your header? it’s probably one of my favorite shots in 12 monkeys, especially when i think of jennifer/deacon and it just makes me really happy. i love hugs 🥺
8: What’s your post with the most notes? from this account? i think it’s the one i made of jango fett hehe ummmmm okay i lied it’s technically this one of castiel apparently???
9: How many mutuals do you have? i have no idea since it’s not easy to search for them but i’m thankful to all of them who have followed me through all my fandom changes and also blog move! 🥰🥰🥰🥰
10: How many followers do you have? 500+~~~~
11: How many people do you follow? 391
12: Have you ever made a shitposts? not in a while lol
13: How often do you use tumblr each day? i usually try to just check once or twice a day for maybe 10 minutes to an hour depending on if i wanna scroll my dash and i try not to spend my whole day on here like i used to back in the day
14: Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? nope. i don’t like confrontation and if i have a problem with someone i just block them.
15: How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? i don’t like them! my anxiety  hates it.
16: Do you like tag games? i do! they’re fun and it’s nice to think that someone else was thinking of you to tag you in them 😊😊
17: Do you like ask games? yeah! though my inbox is usually a desert haha
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? i think tom is pretty dang popular! they’re amazing. and i think taylor is like a gold star blog i still am flabbergasted we’re mutuals.
19: Do you have a crush on a mutual? i don’t get crushes anymore lmao but i do get friend crushes...but all my mutuals are my friends so i don’t need crushes on them if we’re already friends!
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lazy8blog · 7 months ago
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1,4,6,8,9
1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?
While I absolutely love Zuko and Katara as besties, battle buddies, platonic life partners, you name it, I have never understood the appeal of shipping them. I just think their dynamics are all wrong for a romance.
4. Have you ever unfollowed someone? Why?
I’ve unfollowed a few people, and it’s rarely been anything personal. Almost always it just comes down to they’re no longer putting out enough content that I’m interested in seeing. There was one fan artist who, whenever she drew something, would reblog it over and over again, and I get it: you’ve gotta promote yourself, but at the same time, I found it fucking annoying to keep seeing a notification come across my dash only for it to be the exact same post I’d already seen three times that day. The one time I unfollowed someone over a personal opinion, it was for saying “Azula isn’t abusive, she’s just poorly socialized!”
6. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?
Well, “ruined” is a strong word, because most of the time I dislike popular pairings well before the fandom latches onto them. But I’ll definitely say that fandom has cooled my heels on Zukka, which I used to like as just a lighthearted lowkey ship with a lot of banter and fun dynamics, but I just read one too many fanfics that butchered characterization and completely infantilized Zuko.
8. Unpopular opinion about [insert fandom here]?
Ooooooooh, do I have unpopular opinions. And since you have not specified a fandom, I’m going to go ahead and answer this question for all of the fandoms I’m currently active in.
Unpopular opinion about A:tLA:
No, the comics are not the second coming of Satan. Sure, they’re not perfect, but if perfection is a requirement for you to enjoy a piece of media, then you’re going to be waiting a very long time.
Unpopular opinion about Gargoyles:
I really dislike how telling Matt about the gargoyles was handled, and thought he was being super entitled (not to mention a massive hypocrite, given that he never told her anything about his membership in the Illuminati). Yeah, Elisa kept information from him that she knew he would have been interested in hearing, but that was in no way, shape or form an actual breach of trust. For one thing, it wasn’t her secret to tell; for another, he didn’t actually need to know, he just wanted to know. However strong his burning desire to uncover the supernatural, his curiosity in no way justifies threatening to crash her car with her in it.
Unpopular opinion about Inuyasha:
Kikyo gets way more hate than she deserves. While there are plenty of legitimate criticisms to be made of her and her actions, there are multiple male characters in this series (Sesshoumaru and Koga immediately come to mind) who do shit that’s far worse than anything she ever did yet don’t get subjected to even half the vitriol that she does. I see a lot of misogyny in fandom attitudes toward Kikyo, especially given that nobody wants to admit it’s more about the fucking love triangle than it is about any real critique of her character.
9. Have you ever received anon hate? What about?
Well, not anon hate in the form of personal attacks, no. (I’m still new to Tumblr, give it a few years.) But when I first started writing fic, back in my Harry Potter days, I received a fair number of nasty anon reviews. While some of them were legitimate if rude critiques (I was a new writer, I made mistakes, and there are definitely things I’d do differently if I were to write that fic now), a lot of them were just getting mad at me for not doing enough to punish the characters they personally hated. Even if giving them what they wanted would have been completely out of character for everyone else. Even though, if they’d just been patient and fucking waited, natural character development would have brought things to the point where the characters started standing up for themselves and questioning the infallibility of the people they’d formerly hero worshiped. It actually got so bad near the end that I would see a review in my inbox and immediately think ‘Damn it! Not another one!’, and it wasn’t until I moved on to my next fandom (Dragon Ball Z) and started writing fic for that, and abruptly realized that I was actually looking forward to getting reviews again, that I fully processed how fucked up that was. I decided to discontinue that story, and haven’t returned to Harry Potter fandom since.
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siren1song · 2 years ago
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In Which Jo Loves Content Creators
I’m in a mushy mood. This means it’s time to snipe people with my love for their work and affection for them as people. (People I don’t know that well/talk to regularly won’t be as personal as people as I’ve made good friends with! All to avoid making anyone uncomfortable <3)
I’m going to start with @sleepless-in-starbucks, because of course I’m starting with Lia. I know I’ve made a literal collaboration post with Max about how much I love them and their work, but Also how can I not mention once again how sweet and funny they are? I vowed that one day, I would rick roll them, they don’t believe I can, but I will, one day. Also they’re really good at comforting people??? And let me scream about some of my favorite fics/tropes to them. I also really enjoy talking to them about stuff I’m working. Listen. Lia is great, okay?
Speaking of @max-is-tired did you know they’re an incredibly sweet datemate who’s super considerate and easy to talk to and gosh I love them a whole lot? Not to mention their writing and ideas are phenomenal!!!! Max is so big brained!!!!! I will never stop expressing my love for them ever.
Oh, oh, oh!!!! @thechildoflightning is also really super sweet!! I became a huge fan of their writing through their daemon prinxiety au!! And my love of their work just kept expanding as I read the jksf verse they’ve worked so hard on! Their research is expansive!! And did you know they’re really cute when they info dump? I asked them to tell me about the bird facts the other day because I wanted to hear their info dumping and it was really cool information!!! I learned a lot about a really cool bird!!
(This is going to get long... time for a cut!)
Another segue! You know who else I’ve learned a lot from? @lilfellasblog who is so cool? And kind???? And smart? Sometimes, I’ll ask them questions in a joking way and then I’ll end up learning something and wow! That’s so cool! And they don’t mind simplifying things for me when I ask! And their fic, Healing Broken Wings? An actual masterpiece, though if you check it out I recommend reading tags thoroughly. And if you have questions about a tag, ask them! They’re so willing to elaborate to make sure you’re able to stay safe!!! They care more about your safety than your readership!!!!! And that’s so awesome! I love Lil so much! A great friend and an amazing writer!
A friend I don’t really talk to nearly as much as the others but who I still care about a whole lot is @illogicallyinclined. They say they can’t write, but bullet fics are a Valid Form of Writing, and also their art? Stunning? They’re the reason I started appreciating Logan a whole lot more than I used to, and their hockey au  is really good (and Jam Packed with Logan Angst if you’re into that.) They’re also hilarious to talk to. I have chatted about Virgil and Logan being huge ass meme’s with them on multiple occasions.
Someone I’ve only recently started talking to is @sign-from-god-complex who’s actually really cool? I was talking to him about my love for fandom content creators before I decided to make this post and of course I had to include him? I’m literally going to be bingeing his writing as soon as I finish this Love and Appreciation post because it’s amazing! I can’t believe I haven’t read more of his work before! A travesty, honestly!!! And oh my God his music is good? Literally the whole reason I joined his server and started talking to Lo in the first place was because he was really nice when I asked him how downloading music worked because I’ve only ever done that onto an MP3 (I know, I’m old) and even then I had to have help because I’m not adept with technology. A great singer and writer!
Now for people I’ve never talked to personally but really want to show my appreciation for... Goodness, there’s so many?
I’m gonna start this section with @princeanxious who’s writing, art, and ideas in general are amazing? Have you seen his coma au? Heart wrenching. His Lost Guardian au? Beautiful world building! His punk lo/pastel dee au? Adorable oh my goodness I can’t get enough!! I tried to talk to him once, but I kind of got scared I was bothering him, but he seems really nice!!!!
Did I mention soulmate au’s earlier? I did. You know who writes really cool and great soulmate aus? @not-so-innocent-bi-sander and MAN is their writing great! Have you read their vampire soulmate au? That was so cute??? I loved Logan’s internal conflict with changing Patton and Roman, gosh? And they have such interesting au ideas too? Like I have actually never heard the concept of Lockets before, and it was such a fascinating idea for a soulmate au? I mean, obviously they have other fics that aren’t soulmate aus, like their prinxiety fic Overcoming a Legacy? Stunning, I am pretty sure I stayed up really late reading that one.
Speaking of fics that made me stay up late (so many segue’s) @impatentpending ‘s fic Powerless had me up from 5:30 pm when I started reading it to 2:30 am when Max finally woke up and distracted me long enough to make me shower and go to bed cause I had work in the morning. Do I regret it? No. Powerless is a stunning fic with an amazing concept. I can’t tell you how excited I was to read a fic where Virgil willingly took on a villain role to protect his loved ones. And also I’m going to physically fight Missy, she can catch these hands. I can’t really give much else on the rest of her fics, because I tend to avoid anything that might not end happy (I’m five chapters away from finishing Powerless, and I’m only just now getting skeptical they might not get their happy ending so count me scared) but I have no doubt everything she’s written is just as good, if not better since this fic was finished in 2018? Wow.
Another fic that had me up super late was @lovelylogans gilmore girls au where you lead, i will follow. Don’t be fooled by the eleven chapters, that fic is over 100k words but God is it so worth it to read every single one. You don’t even need to be familiar with the show the au is based on, it’s amazing either way. The characters, the plot, the romance, all absolutely stunning. I will personally fight Patton’s mom. And the rest of her fics! Wow!!! Stunning, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, I’m running out of adjectives. I loved their princess bride bullet fic a whole lot, that was fun.
If you ever see me gushing about mermaid aus, please know that @voidsides au is Probably my favorite take on it. The prinxiety! The sassy virgil!!! The Logan being so done with Roman’s shit. Literally the one comic with Logan interaction I could practically see “Roman I swear to god if you don’t stop flirting with the fish I’m going to push you into the water” in his words. He didn’t say it, but man he was definitely thinking it.
Oh man, I can’t forget to mention the person who got me into g/t-slash-borrower sides @infinimay cause his content? Amazing, really. I found him when someone I follow reblogged one of his halloween fics and I fell in love and proceeded to binge the rest of their writing. Amazing, really. I really love the giant hermit virgil and hiker logan ones a lot. There’s more that I definitely love a whole lot as well, but I can’t currently match content with titles right now and if I go through I’ll get caught up and forget to come back to this post, but just know I love
Another giant/tiny writer I really love who I fell in love because of his amazingly written alien au- @delimeful WIBAR is currently one of my fic obsessions and I might reread it soon because it’s so good? I love the world building and how he’s written the characters so much. The rest of his work is Also Great? The fic where Virgil turns into a dragon when stressed? Amazing I can’t wait for it to continue.
@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors You got me so in love with laoft I think about it often. Scary Virgil?? Changeling Logan???? Witch Roman???? Gifted Patton????? I want to cry I love them so much. And God, May! May Gage is a disaster of a woman but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I just. I love this au so much and it’s gotten me to love fae lore so much like I used to. I want to reread this au now, crap. Wait I need to read Lo’s stuff first. Double crap.
Oh man. speaking of writer’s who keep bringing up fae and reminding me how much I love them, @lefaystrent I hope you know your parental shenanigans on my dash bring me life. I didn’t know carbonated milk existed until last night. Kind of wish I was still ignorant on that particular topic. Either way, your fae virgil fic? Amazing. I got so super excited every time I saw an update, and that epilogue? A beautiful ending, if you ask me.
@stillebesat I start screaming in excitement, reading your Interview fic. When I found it, I became so in love with the fic I had a really hard time reading anything else and I frequently checked your blog looking for an update. I am so in love with it, and honestly there’s lots of questions I have about it but if I ask all of them this post will be even LONGER and it’s so massive already.
@today-only-happens-once You’re writing is amazing. So many of your fics are so stunning?? I fell in love reading The Only Exception. Still need to go through your masterlist thoroughly, but man everything I’ve read from you so far is so well written and takes my entire heart.
This post wouldn’t be complete without @notalwaysthevillian who actually got me to start shipping Logince with her fic Shattering Stereotypes. And then there’s of course her tangled prinxiety au??? Which I actually really gotta finish but what I’ve read of it? Amazing. 
Oh crap. If void has my favorite artistic mermaid au, @teacupfulofstarshine has my favorite written au. LDAD is a stunning fic and I would die for it. And also her recent atla au fic? I was screaming over it. Also also her moxiety dad au series she did for halloween had my entire heart. Every installment of that series had me so incredibly soft I probably could have cried.
And finally, @randomslasher I really love your writing. Your fic, Starved was one of the first I read in the fandom and I adored every single word. I haven’t actually had the chance to really sit down and binge any of your work that I could find, but I plan on fixing that soon. It’s also?? Really nice to see an older fander! As someone in their twenties and constantly seeing how young everyone is, it’s comforting knowing I’m not the only one!
That’s everyone I wasn’t scared of bothering! Everyone who I wanted to shower in my love for their work (and affection for the people I talk to!) This isn’t really in any particular order, beyond me separating the people I talk to from the people I don’t. This post is massive, but I hope everyone enjoys my appreciation for their content!
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ask-de-writer · a year ago
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 21 of 83 : World of Sea
Return to the Master Story Index
Return to World of Sea
SEA DRAGON’S GIFT
Part 21 of 83
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
140406 words
copyright 2020
written 2007
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.
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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users
Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.
All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.
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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here
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Chapter 5a: Tanlin and Story time
Amid the bustle of crowds, racing children dashed about.  They now had a glorious place to run on the biggest decks in the fleet.  Sea birds of many sorts swooped about and squabbled for the best perches on ridge poles and comically tried to maintain their balance on guy lines.  
Tanlin was shopping fabrics from the Gula’s booth.  Khilda, the proprietress, was confused.  This lady of exotic looks and good taste had just publicly married Barad?  The proof seemed to be in the two deck-hands who were hovering over her like paddle ducks over their chicks.
She knew the sailors and disliked them.  They had a bad reputation among a bad lot.  Being better dressed surely hadn’t made them any better.  Scupper sweepings picked up by the Grandalor when nobody else would.  Now, they were being as solicitous and polite as could be asked for.  The air of absolute assurance radiating from the woman they were attending was the only reason that Khilda let them into the booth.  For a wonder, they were keeping their hands off the merchandise.
“T’ese satins o’ yers are luvely.  Oi like t’e red-black color play.” She pulled her brown pony-tail over her shoulder and examined it and the cloth together critically.  “Dunnae really go wit’ m’ ‘air t’ough, t’e colors are t’ strong.”
She let the fabric of the bolt-end fall and looked at others.  Khilda did not want to loose this sale.  Word had run through the booths that Tanlin’s scrip was being spent plentifully.  Still, it was the Grandalor’s credit — — and that was always questionable.
“True, but we also have these greens.  They’ll work well.  What are you looking for, something to please your husband?”
Tanlin looked up in surprise.  “Wye wad Oi want t’ do t’at?  Oi gladden ‘im already an’ ‘e m’.  Tis t’ be an outfit for us bot’.”  Her eye found a bolt over in the corner of the booth.
“T’ere! ‘Ond, wad ye bring m’ t’at ane, please?”  One of her men went carefully through the booth to get the bolt in question.
Khilda’s heart sank as she saw which one had been chosen.  The fabric of the bolt was botched.  The loom tension had been uneven, giving the fabric a bad curl.
“T’e color’s perfect!  T’e brown wit’ red ‘ighlights will do for us bot’!”  Tanlin caught sight of Barad through the crowd. People were making way for him without thought, responding to his manner of dress and air of calm authority.
“Barad! Luve!  Come see w’at Oi’ve got!”
People did respond to her call.  “Barad?  Where?” they looked around and realized that the finely dressed gentleman was, in fact, the infamous and usually slovenly captain of the Grandalor.
“What have you found, Tanlin?”  He put an arm about her waist and she leaned affectionately into him.
“Look at t’is fabric, Luve.  T’e Gula’s bright reds an’ greens are too strong for us.  We do better in t’e dark colors.  Amber-browns t’ blacks — — just look at t’e red ‘ighlights t’at move over t’is brown sheen.  Tis perfect for us.”
Barad eyed the fabric dubiously.  “It’s flawed, Dear, don’t you see the curl to it?”
“O’ corse Oi do.  Besides t’e color, t’at’s wye Oi wont ‘t.” She sighed, “Someane bock ‘ome in t’e Arrakan fleet taught m’ t’ work wit’ ‘t.  Tis nae flat an’ neit’er are we.”
Her shoulders began to shake and she bit the back of her hand to keep from sobbing.  Her eyes filled with tears that leaked a little from the corners.  Her voice quavered slightly as she added, “Oi wish Oi could remember ‘oo ‘t wa’ taught m’.  Even ane familiar face wad be such a treasure.”
Barad gently wrapped his massive arms about her while Khilda looked on gape mouthed.
“Peace, darling Love.  Your memories will return in their own good time. Dark Iren must have had his own sound reason to send you back to us but keep your people from you.  You are safe with me.”
This caring man was not the Barad that the Naral fleet knew.
Biting back tears, Tanlin shook with the effort to regain her composure.  It is so easy to put myself in her place because I must deny all of those that I know, on or off the ship.  These feelings are real. Kurti must die if I am to live.  “Oi do know t’at, m’ Luve. ‘T’s just so hard t’ know all o’ t’ese t’ings an’ ‘ave nae trace o’ t’ose folk ‘oo filled t’em wit’ meanin’.”  Regaining her composure, she went back to the task at hand and finished choosing fabrics and trims.  Barad stood by patiently and watched.
Turning to Khilda, he said, “I believe her.  She always knows what to do and how to do it.  We saved her from drowning when her ship went onto a rock during a Dragon Tide.  She’d been hit and swept overboard by a falling yardarm.  When she woke from her coma a few Wohans later, she could remember everything except the people of her past.  She has just passed the Ship Master’s examinations, confirming her as a Naral fleet First Officer, in line for a captaincy if one comes open.”
“So much done by someone so young?” asked Khilda curiously.
“Most of her life has been spent learning what she knows.  They educate in a different way in the Arrakan fleet.”
“I see.  On a different topic, how is she going to pay for all of these things?”
“A note drawn on surveyed and secured cargo.”  Seeing Khilda’s skeptically raised eyebrow, Barad went smoothly on, “I know what is thought of the Grandalor’s credit, so I had Alor of the Longin do the survey and provide for the cargo’s security.  It is no longer on the Grandalor.  Send to Alor for collection of the note.”
Khilda discretely withdrew and sent a runner to the Longin booths.  The runner returned and whispered into her ear.  Both of her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she sent the runner to all of the nearby booths to let them know that Tanlin’s credit was not merely good, it was very good.
A rapid patter of drum-talk on a small tocsin drum cut across the air of the Gathering, sending flocks of sea-birds into the air and causing children to look about for playmates and yell STORY TIME! They scampered off in the direction of Kurin’s toy booth.  Tanlin dropped everything else that she had been doing, settled her charges and darted after the children, leaving both of the deck-hands to follow in her wake.
When they finally caught up with her, she was sitting at the edge of a pool of children who were giving Kurin their utmost attention.  Kurin was sitting on the sales board of her booth, where all the watchers could see.  She had let down a dark curtain behind her making a sort of stage out of her booth.
Kurin stood up on her sales board, her head still lower than her awning, and  held up a hand for silence — and got it.  She began by asking a question.  “In all of the World of Sea, there are only three creatures that men do not hunt.  Why don’t we hunt the Ord fish?”
Children eagerly held up hands, wanting to show off for their friends.  Kurin pointed to the smallest child.
“‘Cause it’s about the most poison thing in the ocean!” he exclaimed proudly.
“Right, the Ord is the deadliest thing in the sea, so far as poison is concerned.  Here, have a model of one to learn what it looks like.” Kurin felt about on an invisible shelf, muttering, “I know it’s here somewhere.  Ah, here it is!”   She appeared to pull the toy fish out of thin air, to the delight of her audience, and tossed it to the child.
“Why don’t we hunt the Great Dragons?” she asked, head tilted questioningly.
Eager hands went up all over the group as children vied for attention. Kurin chose an older child to answer this one.
“‘Cause Sea is their world and if we tried to hunt them, they could destroy us!”  He looked sternly about, arms crossed over his chest.
“Right!” she exclaimed.  “They helped the First Ships and then helped us to make the First True Ships.  But they were here first and they are more powerful than we are.  Wiser, too.”  She produced a rolled parchment, seeming to lift it out of a hand that was empty and far too small to hold it.  She unrolled it so that all could see the colored drawing, then gave it to the pleased young man.  “This is a picture of Dark Iren and Blind Mecat at the Wedding Raft.”
She paused with dramatic flair, “Who knows what else it is that we never hunt?”  Her eyes scanned the crowd.  A small child had his hand up.  On impulse, she picked him.
“We don’t hunt paddle ducks,” he said confidently, “because we raise them and they are so funny.”
“A good guess,” she answered.  “We first got paddle ducks by hunting them, though.  Here, have one.”  Her hands appeared empty as she made a tossing motion toward him.  A soft cuddle toy of a paddle duck, made of canvas scraps and fluff landed in his surprised hands. “The other creature that we never hunt is the Orca Whale.  Would you like to hear the story of why we never hunt them?  Mecat herself told it to me.”
TO BE CONTINUED
<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>
Return to the Master Story Index
Return to World of Sea
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superohclair · 2 years ago
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You are doing amazing and I’m happy you are apart of the fandom especially the Live action Titans fandom. That’s why I follow you and I don’t follow much people on here. So I appreciate you. I will admit that there are things you say that i disagree with but it’s your own opinion and i can’t change it. All i can do is respect it and I’m sorry that other people can’t understand that concept. I want you to have an positive anon since you are getting hate.
This really made my entire weekend, thank you.
I'm normally really okay with the d*ath and r*pe threats I get when I post too close to comfort for the Dick Grayson or Dickbabs fandom cops or one time the Teagan Croft fandom cops. Hate like that especially when anonymous just comes from a place of self anger and self loathing that is projected onto others unhealthily. I can understand that it's not personal and know that it is rooted in pain someone else is experiencing that I might not be able to understand, so I try always to let it roll off the back and move on.
Maybe it's because I really do love Dick Grayson and really do love Dickbabs and really do love comics and also really do work in the creative industry so I really do know what we all have to do together to make this world more just for everyone, but this time getting that anon hate was just hard, especially as it came from followers of other accounts on here who likely won't do a thing to tell their followers not to threaten other bloggers (ironic, coming from the two accounts who always want to talk about the fandom abusing Dick Grayson but not real acts of abuse against real people). I'm going to take this as a lesson to be more protective of what I speak on, even though I will always speak out when I see someone doing wrong to others.
So let me say this to anyone who comes this blog and sees something I speak on: If you have an issue with me, block and/or unfollow me. If you have an issue with someone I reblog or comment, do not go after the other blogger; keep that anger on me, and have your peace by blocking or unfollowing me and letting it go. If you don't want to read something or see something on my dash, scroll on by or whoosh it away or block and/or unfollow me. If you have a counterpoint or a question, ask me. If you want to show me another perspective or tell me something I've missed or gotten wrong, message me. If I hurt you, call me out.
I agree with you, anon, on this important matter of difference and disagreement. As long as I don't see it border hate, I am more than fine with incommensurability. There's no reason any of this needs to be disrespectful. We don't all have to get along, but we all have to share this world and make it better for the people who come after us.
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shattered-catalyst · 2 years ago
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So this  isnt for anything other than just to say what happened just so I feel heard and I can explain why I cant be as energetic and socially active on here. Its not a callout post or to be reblogged/shared by people. Its not to get anyone in trouble or to cause any reaction. It’s just for me to let it out and reclaim this space again. Its been a year since it happened and I guess I’m just still noticing how badly it has impacted my PTSD. How much its changed me as a person both online and off, and this isnt a woe as me thing either this is just me feeling a need to be heard and explain my own behavior over the year and also to make one simple request of you guys: no matter what you do, always treat your rp partners as people first and writers second.
Because I feel myself becoming bitter and that isnt who I am and I dont want to be someone like that. Or like this. I want to be me again
The person who did this wont be named mainly because they dont deserve it and yall dont need to know. Their behavior when I confronted them more than cements the impression that they dont see any harm in what they said and how they reacted. And again this isnt about them though In A Way I suppose it is? it takes two to tango but it takes one to encourage someone to kill themselves.
This is going to be long because I need to inform on the activity that lead up to this  because it didnt just happen over night- though in a way it did. But you need a better picture of this person because apparently they present a really great face that only a few of us see the manipulative and toxic side of.
This person was always very judgemental and hyper critical. I witnessed a lot of very negative and toxic behavior from them but I was naive and just hoped they would mature as they grew older and gained more independence. I thought it was just a toxic friend group and that perhaps she would recognize her self destructive and immature behavior and grow from it. 
My first red flag should have been when they accused me of being their ex girlfriend SOLELY because I was living in PA. I hate to break it to yall, but PA is a big ass state and has a lot of comic book loving ladies. Thankfully I have never met this person IRL and I hope I never do.
They tried to pull me into making fun of other muns on discord, including mocking sensitive pictures from a mun’s personal blog. I blatantly said it wasnt okay and made me uncomfortable and she continued laughing and making jokes about it with her friend group on discord. She kept trying to pull me into it no matter how often I tried to change the subject.
Her group of friends also did this thing where one of them would go interact with a mun an they would take screenshots of the convo and share it with the group and mock the mun they were interacting with. Whether it be their presentation of character/grahics/writing style/ etc.
The other red flags I ignored? How much she complained and mocked other muns and compared them to me; if anyone did anything or said anything she disagreed with it was an instant blow up. She took EVERYTHING personally including other people writing the same characters she did, having differing headcanons, not knowng obscure details about canon, etc.
She once tried to make fun of a new writing partner I had who was writing the same character, and I had to break it to her that this new person could write in her first language if she wanted to; im being very vague but let me just say if you and your character have the same first language and you want to write in it then its completely WRONG for a white mun to try and make fun of you for it.
She once suggested I had stolen pictures off her pinterest when she sent me a moodboard request for my character. Jokes on her I didnt even know she HAD a pinterest and I had gotten all my pictures from the ‘green aesthetic’ tag on tumblr. Which I told her but she kept pushing the idea on me I had stolen them. I of course dismissed this and put it on the back burner despite the alarm bells going off.
This hyper critical and paranoid behavior continues with everything from other canon blogs making similar head canons/ vaguely similar graphics/ to fanfiction authors having similar head canons/plot ideas.
My penname Citrus? I didnt want one. I didnt want it. She demanded I have a pen name and if not she was going to call me Cat. Now as yall know I dont like being enmeshed with my muse so I keep myself separate from them. I didnt like being called Cat and I told her that explicitly. She kept doing it. So I had to make a pen name because she refused to respect my boundaries.
When the Deadpool movie came out she DEMANDED I change my FC to reflect the movie Despite Not Changing Hers to reflect her own characters new look - which might i add is fat erasure. It was clear then that the rules and standards she held other people to didnt apply to herself. I was labeled problematic for not giving into her demands to change FCs (which I have a literal logical reason for not changing and im not explaining that here)
So I shouldve left. Long story short I didnt because every friendship I’d been in until around this time had been abusive and toxic. I thought this was all normal behavior for people to have and I was convinced I was just being critical of someone elses opinions/ insensitive etc. Thanks to my colleagues in graduate school and to several of you on here I learned that ‘hey dumbass friends dont treat your ass like this’.
Im leaving a lot out about the shit she did/said to me but those snippets give you an idea of things.
Leading up she decided to leave fandom and asked we didnt talk about marvel I said cool okay and didnt talk about marvel with her. If I did I would ask first if she was okay if we talked about one small aspect I thought might excite her/ she would like to know about but it wasnt often that happened because she began ghosting me. Hard. She stopped replying to me at all over discord when I would try and talk to her how we used to about our lives. She didnt answer any asks for munday or character development, in fact she blatantly ignored me.
I checked in a couple times with her to make sure I hadnt done anything to make her uncomfortable and she said no. May I emphasize she said no here. Im emphasizing it right now. She said no. She said everything was fine. So when I was like hey dude this is super triggering for me can you send me like a hi every once in awhile just so I can know we’re okay because its super triggering for me. Yall know what she did? She ‘lmao’-ed. she thought that was hecka funny. Yeah triggering ‘Citrus’ is hilarious isnt it? No it isnt and I shouldve cut her ass off right then and there.
Heres where shit gets confusing: she kept fucking talking about marvel to me. Id get messages at random times about marvel and then silence for weeks. I vividly remember during this period I was cleaning the museum vault and she kept messaging me about her marvel fc’s and how she wouldnt get a plotline and how characters were wrong etc.
I remember being REALLY confused because she had said NO MARVEL. But here she was bitching at me about marvel. In fact thats all she did when she did talk to me. Which was only like three or four times during the ghosting time period. She’d bitch about marvel and then vanish.
Shed make claims about not watching her dash and thats why she never responded to me/ interacted with me. She’d say she wasnt talkng to anyone while I see her on the dash TALKING TO PEOPLE and Id like to point out Ive told her I would be fine ending anything as long as she let me know.
but she followed me on every blog and throughout this time period she made and followed me on numerous ones. She kept reaching out sporadically to bitch about her fcs/how horrible marvel was/ and thats it. 
It was extremely confusing because if someone doesnt want to talk to me I assume they will; 1. unfollow 2. block 3. say goodbye 4. ghost and stay ghosted.
Not cycle through behavior rapidly. I asked her a few times if we were good and that I was confused and I got another ‘lmao’ reaction so I assumed we were good. At this point I still have no idea what was going on/ what message I was supposed to be receiving other than confusion.
So following this is heavily suicide tw and I encourage you not to read this part and to scroll down until the suicide tw is over which is highlighted in bold- if you’re triggered by that because I care about those who follow my blog.
So thats when this shit happened. I had tried reaching out to her on a different fandom platform to try and maintain the friendship. Because she said numerous times that we were friends. So like I reached out thinking maybe she just didnt want a marvel blog period.  It wasnt too long after that that she suicide baited me.
I was in a really bad place and had been for awhile and when I posted about how the only thing holding me on was the new comic coming out and specifically said “im seriously suicidal and this comic is the only thing giving me hope #idk what to do anymore ”. I was surprised when she liked the post.
I was three steps into a four step plan. I had everything but the method planned out and was just waffling along with that. Because yknow its complicated and you do it you make it count amiright. Right. I was in a fucked up place. I had just realized I was gay, I was horrendously depressed, I was in considerable physical pain, I was working 70 hours a week, my OCD was at an all time high and the only thing that kept me on this earth was a fucking comic book. You hold onto what you need to yknow?
WELL APPARENTLY NOT
Because this person who doesnt read her dash? This person who doesnt want to talk about anything? Liked that post where I specifically stated I was suicidal and sent me a discord message saying “dont have hope”.
Thats all it said “dont have hope”
Now I know what youre thinking but hold on because it gets worse.
I said something about being confused I dont really remember because I was pretty out of it. I do remember she kept going on about how horrible the comic would be and that it would be a piece of trash. I remember telling her I was really numb and in a bad place and couldnt feel anything. I remember her sending me screencaps and continuing to go ON AND ON about how it wasn’t worth reading.
I remember with gross intensity how someone who said they were my friend was taking away the only thing that was keeping me alive.
I dont remember how the conversation ends. I called out of work for the next three days. I was catatonically depressed and unable to really move. I didnt eat either. I went to internship, work, and school in a state of dissociation.
 I took screencaps of everything and set them aside for later. IDK what I was going to use them for but I set them in a folder on my desktop, looking back I regret what I did next; because I deleted them. I deleted them because I thought maybe she had been manic or drunk and hadn’t realized the scope of what was happening. I wanted to talk to her about it and clear things up because I believed in her. I believed there was no way she would be so callous as to do that on purpose. No way would someone try and get someone they called a friend to kill themselves. So I deleted the screencaps and my post on tumblr. I deleted all evidence to protect her and I encourage you all never to fucking do that even if you think that person misunderstood the gravity of your situation. Because if you’re wrong no ones going to believe you.
I remember shifting between intense depression and total denial.
I spent the rest of that month in and out of intense dissociative states when I wasnt in class or working with my clients.  During the middle of October my sister sent me pictures of a litter of puppies and I was like ‘well, i really need to either kill myself or make sure i dont’. I spent a few days continuing to waffle with that decision but then i remembered my mom cosigned my loans and I cant leave her with that debt because fuck we cant even afford my funeral to begin with. So I adopted a dog, I named him Julio to remind me to keep living and he finally came to me on halloween.
He was the only reason I left bed on my days off. I tried not to think about it but I did.  
I continued to spiral with heavier dissociative episodes and vivid nightmares about it.
SUICIDE TW OVER
I waited until Christmas to ask her to clarify the situation and let her know I no longer felt comfortable writing with her. I reminded her what happened and told her to check her discord if she wanted to see for herself etc.
She sent two long asks of combative, emotionally abusive, and gaslighting accusations. The first thing she did was say I needed to provide evidence if I went around making accusations like that. Then she cascaded into how I always talked about marvel *points up to where i explained what happened earlier*.  She tried gaslighting me like a champion and tried turning me into a horrible person the only problem is everything she was accusing me of doing was the shit she was doing to me. Everything. 
Even if I was bad at any time I had given her numerous chances to tell me I was overstepping a boundary- she always said no. I gave her numerous times to unfollow me if she wasnt interested in interacting with me- she never did. In fact I had unfollowed her that month because of her behavior towards me and she hadnt even noticed.
I let her know I could tell she was angry,  and that I didnt take receipts of private conversations because I believed in settling things like adults, and that if she ever wanted any proof it was all in her discord anyway. I let her know she could contact me to apologize but otherwise I didnt want her on any of my blogs and I told her the first thing she should have done wasnt demand receipts but she should have asked if I was okay. Its a real reflection of where her priorities were when she demands evidence rather than checks to see if a writing partner is okay.
Even if I did something horrible it doesnt warrant someone trying to get me to end my life. 
I was notified she put a post on her blog apologizing to her followers for being a bad friend and that she was a horrible person and ofc everyone was like ‘noooo youre perfect’ and its like ya thats not for me who hasnt followed her in months- thats to save face.
Her friends blogs kept visiting my profile and going through the month where this happened.
Everything she did and said was to save face. Her blog and her reputation are the only thing she cared about. She has never approached me to apologize or anything of the sort and I doubt she ever will. I would hope she would never do this again and I hope she has grown as a person since. That her life is better and her mother is okay, that shes happy and learning. 
 I know by posting this I will never receive an apology- then again i never expected one to begin with. I could go through all the trouble of restoring the deleted files but to be honest it isnt worth it because theres no room in my life for that type of toxicity.
Since this happened I:
I have stronger episodes of depression and dissociation since.
My PTSD has increased and I have week long spikes in anxiety attacks, depression and decreased self worth if I even see her around the rpc despite being blocked, blacklisted on xkit etc.
Have more difficulty completing basic self care tasks due to an increase in depression and a decrease in self worth.
I have nightmares about this event and her to this day a year later.
I cannot interact with the RPC how I once did as I fear seeing her on my dash or any sort of information getting back to her about me.
It took me half a year to see the character she wrote as as safe again and for awhile I couldnt even look at him without experiencing an anxiety attack.
I keep having nightmares. Its been a year and I still have nightmares about this.
I find myself having more difficulties connecting with people online especially on this blog. I’m constantly on edge when interacting with people and I feel spikes of anxiety at the merest thought of someone talking about me to her.
I find myself unable to have confidence as a writer or creator online because I have been reminder of the cement wall between oc characters and their canon counterparts.
I cannot go out and just follow anyone and be friendly and trusting with them anymore, even with people I already know. In the back of my mind is a constant reminder of how she and her friends used to check up on people and pretend to write with them/ interact with them just to take screenshots of conversations to share with the group. I have become a paranoid little bitch in the past year is what Im saying. like theres 0 need for that shit.
I blocked most of the people she interacted with simply to save myself from being triggered by her blogs/ mentions of her and that isnt fair to those people.
I remember the photo incident and how people derived such joy from mocking someones body. I can think of so many incidents of them making fun of others and I remember how that could be happening about me rn, and I wonder if anyone would stick up for me like I did for the other mun.
 I hope by posting this I can try and return to the person I was before this happened. I can try and not be so bitter and reach out again to others. That somehow I can continue working on making tumblr a safe place for me again and not a PTSD laced minefield.
I would like to remind this isnt a callout and I request if you know who this is about you dont say anything to them. This isnt for them. They have NEVER reached out to apologize for their actions. They have NEVER checked to see if I was okay after that. They have NEVER shown any remorse for encouraging me to kill myself and while I hope they’ve grown from the situation and will never do it again I doubt I will ever get closure from such an event. But i DO hope by writing this I can take this place back.
Consider this my first step towards bringing this up to a therapist.
 Consider this another step to me taking this blog back and feeling safer here; and maybe just maybe Ill make up a cool pen name for myself and own that shit.
If you’ve read this far thank you for your patience with me, and I request you always treat your writing partners like the people that they are. 
This post is not intended or written to leave this blog and therefore I request you not reblog it or share segments of it with ANYONE. If I find you have shared anything on here without my explicit permission I will block you.
‘Citrus’
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moddux2 · 2 years ago
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Final post I will be making on this crap since I haven’t made a rant/comment on all this shit since I was asleep, going to do it in one big post and then disregard it.
[cracks fingers]
Okay this is going to be my one and only final post on the issue because holy shit what little bit of reasonable “hear out what they’re saying” has ran dry and i’ve had a good night sleep.
I woke up, read some stuff and am 200% done with this shit.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183297862370/hey-if-yall-are-minors-or-have-minor-characters
-only slightly valid point in here is me not marking things on a blog that has (18+) in the description at the top of the page.. I’ll give you that one, the rest though?
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301207595/alright-yall-listen-up
-this makes my head cave in, you make a post calling me one of the most disgusting things on this planet... and then say “stop it” when people send death threats and suicide bait? Get the fuck off your non-existent moral high ground you asshat.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301289215/hey-theoriginalknightverse-you-wanna-do-this
-I was asleep when this was made so i’m reading this on the spot. I don’t think/know if i’ve ever interacted with you prior.
-Second, beginning your shit with “oh i was abused by a pedo when i was a child” is a terrible thing to hear but doesn’t make you any more or less qualified to talk about something so why bring it up at all? If not to get “victim points”?
-this catsuit nonsense, me basically saying, hey, you say “nice” and “cute” about art and art styles too, maybe I should throw your own logic back in your face and see how you like it.
- your next part “blah blah blah me good and don’t follow minors”, good for you neither do I, I literally cannot follow any more blogs because my main is pretty much at the follow cap with stupid meme blogs and dead blogs from the pre purge so i don’t know where you’re getting that from.
-your next part with the “they don’t age because dead, forever 13!”, fuck off with that reach, get that weak shit outta here. “Can’t age them up, checkmate!”, counterpoint, They’re aged up, fuck even in the lore of the comic with “paradox space” being a thing there’s a 100% guarantee in the infinite timelines/doomed timelines there’s a one where they’re out there of age, so your argument is bullshit even in universe.
- then you move onto condescending asshat territory again “just make a sfw blog", I make sfw, “not sfw enough, bad” fuck off ya unpleasable twat.
-”flag your blog as adult” - see previous point about (18+)
-” en g a g e your cr i t ic a l thinking” wow you’re a condescending prick.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301355625/hey-i-get-what-youre-trying-to-do-but-your-post
-oh boy, ready for disappointment.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301797570/rhysing-oc-hey-if-yall-are-minors-or-have
- I am entertained now nevermind.
-Dragging someone else’s blog you have a problem with, nice, unnecessary but nice, glad to see you’re venting everything.
-image link 1 and image link 2, not my art and I expect that you as the moral paragon of the homestuck fandom to bring down retribution on the two blogs i found those from also you beacon of just purity.
-image link 3... it broke me.
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... Ya’ll are stupid, Moddux isn’t a minor, even a cursory glance at my blog for more than three seconds could have shown that. This, this is the point I actually realized you don’t give a shit about evidence and stopped taking you seriously as someone concerned about non-existent things, again, untagged on a blog marked (18+).
- link 4, not my art, link 5, a cheeky little accusation of “transphobia thrown at me” ;) you shouldn’t have you sly dog you.
link 5, actually my art, and was requested by a different blog, and within tumblr’s terms and conditions. also a casual “himself” throwing out genders on people you don’t know, very rude~.
link 6, I cannot defend myself on this one, sorry everyone, Terezi should be even bigger and I should have drawn Aradia in there as well, Sorry everyone again... Maybe a Vriska and Feferi flipping the viewer off as Kanaya  is doing a handstand?
link 6 part two, you seem to be a progressive type so i’m honestly quite hurt you’re against different female body types, so fucking ruuuuuude.
==
Point of note, I don’t care when I reblog, my mind is pretty much abscent, i see are and i’m like, neat, reblog, I get drawing prompts and requests from people and i’m like, k, and draw it. 
There’s nothing there except meme, shitposting (for the most part) and doing art requests for people that want/ask for it/have a troll description but no art of them, also weird requests because fuckit, i’ve seen the modern internet from its birth to its rapidly approaching slow death.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302440860/and-yet-from-those-pictures-linked-none-of-them
-pointing out any problems with previous post ::
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- If you can brand people monsters unjustly in a fever of self righteousness and cannot handle when people call you out on, perhaps just do with normal people do, block and move on with with your life instead of throwing hissy fits.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302505740/anyway-anyone-else-who-wants-to-come-at-me-can
- “you have no critical thinking”
-shoo
- sounds to me like someone doesn’t like backlash after accusations, but that’s none of my business as i’m blocked.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302705580/minor-here-who-saw-them-popping-up-on-my-dash-a
-an anon with a reasonable point of view a reasonable response to feeling uncomfortable with content and that’s fairly impartial and says a reasonable response. And what do you do?
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- you make yourself a nice big dose of dopamine right to the head and tickle your ego to justify all this shit, dragging someone’s name through the mud, dragging a bunch of others through the mud just to make yourself feel G O O D that you did it and for no real reason.
https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183304003670/if-i-may-ask-youre-not-mad-at-the-artist-that
home stretch.
-tagging post purge on tumblr is FUCKED.
- there was a nice tag where it could all be safely stored but it’s gone because tumblr is FUCKED.
-it would be real nice if... if there was some sort of check box one could tick on one’s blog to put it in a nsfw state where people don’t just stumble onto it all the damn time... oh wait, there was...
“And it was beautiful...”
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A few solutions - Bring back the nsfw tag (won’t happen)
Purge all over 18 blo- oh wait... they tried that, it did fuck all except make a ton of content producers leave.
...
purge the under 18′s from the site... Could work but would likely do much like option two.
-
Long story short, my blog is marked 18+ in the description (which it already is), I’ll think about maybe sprinkling some more tags on content, and other than that... eh... nothing else will really change almost like I was doing nothing wrong to begin with and this is all just a collective waist of everyone’s time for the most part that did nothing but waist time, made you feel good and made a lot of people very disappointed and  very cross.
-
final note, those wanting to keep this fake ass nonsense going, just... don’t, you probably have better things you could be doing with your time, like... anything at all really.
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romanyeva · a month ago
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I posted 1,083 times in 2021
9 posts created (1%)
1074 posts reblogged (99%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 119.3 posts.
I added 720 tags in 2021
#haha - 135 posts
#dick grayson - 130 posts
#jason todd - 96 posts
#fan art - 76 posts
#gif set - 66 posts
#writing - 55 posts
#nightwing - 54 posts
#a string of beaded words - 38 posts
#bruce wayne - 37 posts
#batman - 33 posts
Longest Tag: 110 characters
#so unless samdean art is going to turn viewers into instant royalty who need to model the divine here on earth
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Because of two random gif sets that crossed my dash, I have now binged both seasons of Ted Lasso and am now looking for keeley/roy/jaime OT3 fic on AO3.
What even is this hellsite?
2 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 21:21:55 GMT
#4
Happy International Romani Language Day! Bahtalo Romano Chabako Dives!
2 notes • Posted 2021-11-05 22:25:41 GMT
#3
For someone who’s probably demi, Dick Grayson does seem to be DC fandom’s little black dress. And I’m totally here for it.
4 notes • Posted 2021-10-08 01:52:03 GMT
#2
So are we ever going to talk about how Jason Todd went from certified Superman stan to straight-up Superman paranoia?
Superman stan Jason Todd (this is post-crisis, tire-booster Jay, btw) meeting Superman (Action Comics # 594):
[Lots of scans under the cut]
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Aww, sweet, right? 💖✨
Now here’s Jason Todd, Red Hood, full of Superman dislike and paranoia, with a hefty side of Clark not liking Jason either and remembering his Robin-time as only ‘you saved my life once’ - because N52 and Lobdell, amirite? (Red Hood and the Outlaws vol. 1 # 14)
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I wonder if that autograph is still at Wayne Manor? Or if somehow it made it onto Jason’s memorabilia shelf? (Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth # 1)
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Naw, DC probably threw it in the garbage with everything else that doesn’t quite mesh with current canon. 
10 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 05:11:17 GMT
#1
So they hooked up headcanon
So I kind of headcanon that Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen had a small and slightly flirtatious, but not really sexual, rivalry going on during their jet-set prep school days. They knew each other but not really well since they lived on different coasts most of the time.
Well, post-grad, they bump into each other in Europe. Bruce is gearing up to train for his Mission and Ollie is just there to be there. So bi-curious Ollie and I-don’t-believe-in-labels Bruce hook up because why not? But what was just supposed to be a one-time eh whatever bang turns into breakfast and conversation where they find out that they have similar itineraries and maybe they can just continue on to the next place together. And this just keeps...happening? Like they don’t plan it, but Bruce finds that he kind of enjoys Ollie’s snarky commentary, which is so unlike Alfred’s dry wit because it just has this bright sparkle to it. And Ollie finds that Bruce has this sleek and dangerous air that’s enticing because it’s not devoid of compassion. They travel well together, and they bang all the time because they’re young. And they just physically fit because Bruce is innovative and Ollie is adventurous.
So their hookup just extends and becomes a dedicated one. They might separate for a few days - do other things and other people - but they just find each other again and travel on to the next place.
This happens for well over a month, bordering dangerously close to two. It’s a thing. It’s certainly not romance - because that would mean fling and feelings - and it’s not friendship, but it’s not just sex either. Because a short time into it, they start telling each other some deep, personal shit that they would never tell their friends or their flings. They have a thing which starts to get uncomfortable for both of them because they just keep at it?
They’re about three or four days and one town away from oops falling into a relationship. So they both decide to untangle their itineraries and go their separate ways. They lose each other’s contact info and no hard feelings.
Which is fine, right?
EXCEPT! Years later, they’re sitting across from each other at the League meeting table and it’s MORTIFYING. They recognize each other instantly - even had their suspicions before - because they knew each other that well. And they have PHILOSOPHICAL differences now. They GET on each other’s NERVES.
And they’re BOTH terrified that the other one is going to TELL people that they used to BANG and even worse WHISPER things to each other. Like they even HELD HANDS a few times because they were young and stupid and why not because they were in the middle of a THING.
Bruce is convinced Ollie’s bragged about BAGGING the BAT to someone so he growls and gets intimidating for no freaking reason and Ollie just barks back for no freaking reason either because Bruce is so authoritative and close to being THE MAN. And Ollie battles THE MAN because politics and he doesn’t BANG the MAN. How embarrassing!
And they never mention it. Not once. Not to each other, not to anyone.
This would be HYSTERICAL. I amuse myself
13 notes • Posted 2021-10-26 00:16:00 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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secret-kkh-fics · a year ago
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Anywhere But Home | Chapter 3
Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like but DON’T REBLOG my fics.
Chapter Summary:
Pacifica runs from an unknown horror and stumbles upon the Mystery Shack. Thankfully, she just made two new friends.
Author Note:
Hey! So, This chapter introduces my big bad monster for the series. I'm not actually going to tell you what it is for a LONG time, though. I have a bit of a game going on for people to guess the monster. No prize, sorry. But I am genuinely curious to see if someone can guess it before the reveal. I also have 'Dipper and Mabel's Guide to Mystery and Fun' and ‘Don’t Colour This Book - It’s Cursed!’, so there'll be a few references to those along the way.
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Terror and Comical Band-Aids 
“Pacifica!”  
Instantly, she froze in place, her heart stopping a moment before beating hard against her chest. No, it couldn’t be. Not yet!  
“Pacifica!” her father’s voice rung out for the third time. It sounded like it was coming from off to the left, but she couldn’t tell how far away he was.  
But it wasn’t possible. They couldn’t have caught her already? She was sure that they wouldn’t have even woken up if she tried to escape without Murphy’s help.  
“Pacifica, darling, please come back home!” another voice called. Her mother.  
No. No, it couldn’t be them. They wouldn’t have noticed she was gone by now. And if they had, they wouldn’t be this nice. After tonight, they would still be furious.  
“Pacifica!” they both shouted.  
Her heart suddenly felt as if it had been hit with a brick of ice. She felt cold, and her breath stuck in her throat. It wasn’t them.  
Without another thought, she took off running. She ran away from the voices as fast as she could. They weren't her parents. Whatever it was, it wasn't them. Dipper had said that there were dangerous things out at night. And Murphy had said that the forest was dangerous. After tonight she should have known better.  
She ran as fast as she could, the voices continuing to shout out her name. They didn't sound as if they were getting any further away. Panicked, she pressed on. The flashlight in her hand was swinging wildly, making it hard to see.  
Suddenly her foot caught on something, and she found herself tumbling to the ground, her stomach feeling like it was left behind. She crashed down hard on her knees, sticks and pine needles digging into her. She continued to fall, her hands failing to catch her properly, and felt her chin graze the ground. The flashlight was thrown from her hand and skittered down the bank. With a small crunch, the light disappeared, and she was plunged into darkness.  
“No, no, no, no!” she cried, scrambling up and trying to get to where she had last seen the light.  
“Pacifica!”  
They were so close! Ignoring the light, she got to her feet and started running again. Not used to the darkness, she had no idea where she was going. She stumbled many times and-and at first almost ran into a tree. She could tell that she was running downhill, but it seemed like the trees were getting thicker. As the hill started to even out into flat, she was sure that the trees should be getting thinner by now. Instead, she was barely missing them as she ran, sometimes getting scratched by stray branches. The voices were still following her. They never seemed to gain on her, but they were always getting closer.  
She continued running, searching for anyway out she could. Then she saw it. Light. There was light up ahead. She ran towards it as fast as she could, tripping on yet another tree branch on the way. She burst out of the trees into... a sparkly clearing. All around her, the clearing was dimly lit and glittering. She couldn't tell what was making it glow like that, but it was kind of strange, and very magical. It looked like some kind of fairy glade or-  
“Ah!” she cried, as she fell over for the... well, she'd lost count of how many times she'd fallen over.  
“Ah!” something cried back.  
“Ah!!!” echoed many voices.  
She looked down to see that she'd tripped over a pile of... little men? There were a whole lot of little men with beards and pointy hats... What the hell?!  
“Eh? Who the hell are you?” asked the only one with a beard that wasn't white. “What are you doing in our forest?”  
“I – I – Um-”  
“Pacifica!!!” Her head whipped around in fear at the voice, and suddenly every single little man in the area began to scream in panic.  
“It's coming!!!” the same one shouted. “Run! Everyone flee!” He stopped and turned back to her. “Welp, it was nice knowing you, pretty lady. Shame you're gonna be eaten because you would have made a lovely Gnome Queen. But I gotta skedaddle. Bye!” And quickly he dashed up a tree, a bunch of squirrels flocking him and getting him up faster.  
Taking the hint, she began to run again, struggling to make her way across the gnome-infested ground. There were way more of them than she had thought, all scurrying to find a safe place. One even tried climbing up her leg, but she kicked it off.  
It wasn't long till she'd cleared the sparkly part of the forest, and was back in the regular forest. And once again, her sight was lessened because of her recent exposure to the light. She chanced a glance backwards. She couldn't really see anything. The gnome forest was still sparkling lightly, but it seemed quieter now. That was all. There was nothing else to indicate that a creature of unknown horror was-  
“Ahhh!!” she cried as she fell yet again. This time a sharp pain shot through her foot, making her wince. She got up again and went to run. Pain lanced through her foot again. “Ah, ow!” She hobbled slightly and almost toppled over as she failed to balance on the foot that wasn't hurting. Crap, she'd hurt it badly. But she still had to flee. Gingerly, she tried to take yet another step, only putting pressure on the foot for a fraction of a second. “Ow!” Okay, limping it was. She could do this. She just had to get out. She just had to find the road and-  
“Pacifica! Please, honey, come home!”  
“We love you, sweetheart. Come to me!”  
Nope. Fuck that.  
Ignoring the pain, she began to run again. It was slow and staggering. Each step brought her pain, but in her determination to get out of there she found she was able to ignore it. As she ran, she became aware of two things. One was that the trees were starting to clear slightly, enough that she could be running on what could be classed as a path... a trail at least. The other was a strange chattering, swooshing sound... Water! She was near a river. Oh, that may not be a good thing.  
The sound got louder and soon she was running to the bank of a river. She began to panic all over again. What was she going to do? How was she going to get around it?! Looking about wildly, she saw a shadow on the river. With the trees gone from the area, there was just enough moonlight to show that the shadow was a large log lying across the body of water. She was so relieved, but there was no time to celebrate. Quickly she crawled onto the log and carefully moved across. If she fell, she was screwed.  
It seemed that the log was used as a bridge often enough that the top layers of bark had been worn down so it was much smoother. It meant that her knees didn't get torn up as much as they already were, but it still hurt. Once at the end, she jumped down, cringing as she jumped on the foot. Tears were streaming down her face, but she only realised they were there because of the cold wind whipping at her. She took a last look back to the other side of the bank, praying that whatever was chasing her couldn't climb a log or swim. Right now there was nothing over there... wait, something moved. She peered closer. She could just make out the silhouette of... a deer, or horse, or something… but it just leant down to eat some grass.  
Not wasting any more time, she turned and started running again. Soon she was back in another forest, but this time it seemed thinner, and she was running on a defined trail. She heard the creature call out again, noticing something that gave her a bit of hope. She listened for the second call carefully... It was quieter. They were getting further away. They were still on the other side of the river! She slowed her pace till she came to a standstill. She was exhausted, ragged breaths being pulled from her lungs. She leant carefully, so she was resting on her knees, but also so that she was putting all her weight on one leg. No, that wasn't going to work. She needed to lie down. She needed to sleep.  
Desperately she looked about. The trees looked as if they were starting to clear, and she could see... a light! There was a light ahead. That probably meant that she was near a street. Or even better, a house. She could pay whoever it was to let her stay the night. Right now, anything was better than this.  
She waited a few more minutes to catch her breath, then took a step forward and gasped, her leg buckling underneath her. The adrenalin was starting to wear off now, and it must have been keeping her from feeling just how bad her ankle was. And then she'd continued to run on it, and probably made it worse. Now that she'd slowed down, she was really starting to feel the pain. She'd probably twisted the ankle. She was covered in aches, and sore spots she knew were going to come out in nice dark bruises. And sharp stinging ones where she'd been scratched. Her leg itched, and she had the feeling that she had blood running down it from a cut.  
Behind her, that thing called out again. It still wasn't getting any closer. She puffed out a sigh of relief and started onwards. Slowly she limped towards the light, her foot aching sharply with every step she took. It was still quite a bit of a walk across the empty stretch of grass that spanned her path to the light. And it was taking even longer because of her pace now.  
It was as she passed the looming shadow of a totem pole that she realised where she was. The Mystery Hack... er, Shack. Dipper and Mabel. They were all on better terms now. They'd take her in for the night, right? At any rate, they knew what was out there, and they wouldn't want her out in it. Dipper had said so himself, you don't want to be out here at night.  
By the time she got to the door, she just wanted to curl up in a ball. She was sore, and tired, and feeling upset and shitty. And quite frankly she felt she had sunk so low that she'd be willing to sleep on their porch if they didn't let her in. She just couldn't go any further.  
Raising a grazed hand, she rapped on the door and waited. When no one came after a minute, she knocked again. Still no one. It was as she was about to knock for a third time that she heard footsteps coming towards the door. She wobbled on her foot and clung to the door frame as the handle rattled. The door swung open, and she was faced with the oh so pleasant sight of Cheapskate Pines in his boxers and a tank top... Ew.  
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “Pacifica?” he said in surprise. She gave a slight nod, unsure of what to say. He took a closer look at her, and his eyes widened when he saw the state she was in. “Holy cow, what happened to you?!”  
“I, um – I was walking through the forest, and there was some sort of freaky creature out there calling to me. So I started running, and then I fell down a few times. And I really hope I don't look as bad as I feel.”  
“Well, what the hell were you doing out in the woods?”  
“Uh... I was coming to see Dipper,” she said, not entirely lying.  
He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “At four in the morning?”  
She looked about, trying to think of an excuse. She didn't have one. She hadn't realised it had gotten so late. “...Yes.”  
He looked her over critically again, his eyes narrowing. “Alright, fine. Come in.” She breathed out a sigh of relief and stepped inside. But she put too much weight on her injured foot and winced in pain. Stan noticed this and frowned slightly. “Here,” he sighed. She looked up at him to see him offering her his arm.  
With a hesitant smile, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Um, thanks.”  
“Yeah, well, don't want you messing that ankle up even more,” he grunted as he led her inside and helped her over to the couch. It was old and grotty, and she didn't really want to sit on it. But there wasn't really a cleaner option. Once she was sitting, he cleared things off the side table and pulled it around in front of her, placed a pillow on top, and suddenly grabbed her leg and propped her foot up on it. The movement was unexpected, and she let out a yelp. She almost let out another when she saw that the side table was actually a large skull or something. Some sort of dinosaur by the looks of it. “I'll go get Dipper. Knowing him, he'll probably still be up looking at that blasted journal.”  
He left the room muttering something about how he could swear 'that boy' knew the entire thing by heart by now. His voice faded out, replaced by the creaking of the stairs. She pulled the bag off her back and placed it on the couch beside her. Opening it, she took a quick look at her phone. There were only a few messages from Tiffany, telling her to do what she wanted since she would anyway, and that they would talk in the morning. 'Do what you want, you always do anyway'. Yeah, because that made her feel even better right now. Huh, it really was after 4am! She grabbed the other phone that Murphy had given her and quickly sent him a message to tell him she was safe... well, barely, but she had made it somewhere.  
Thankfully there were no messages from her parents. Of course, they probably wouldn't realise she was gone until the next night. When she didn't come down for breakfast or lunch, they would think she was sulking. It wouldn't be until dinner, and they demanded her presence that they would find her gone. It was probably better that way. The longer they took to notice, the longer she wouldn't have to deal with them trying to get a hold of her... that was a daunting thought.  
Next, she took off her jacket and stuffed it in. It was much warmer in this little room than it had been outside. The TV was still going, so Stan must have been watching something. But it was now playing some black and white period piece old lady boring movie... Something called 'The Duchess Upholds'. It looked seriously boring and weepy, she highly doubted a man as... er... well, a man like the twins great uncle would watch something like that.  
It wasn’t long till she heard someone coming back down the steps, distracting her from how gross the couch was. She looked over to the doorway to see Dipper walk into the room. He was wearing his usual red-ish orange shirt and a dark blue pair of boxers. His hat was absent, but he was holding something in his hand. He looked a little groggy, but she could tell that, like her, he hadn’t slept at all yet.  
He stopped short when he saw her. “Pacifica?”  
“Is everyone in your family going to have the same reaction?” she said sarcastically.  
“Sorry, Grunkle Stan didn’t actually tell me who was down here. I’d narrowed it down to Wendy, Candy, and Grenda. He said you were a bit scratched up- Oh wow, you are really scratched up! What happened?” He came and knelt next to her, opening the pack in his hand which turned out to be a first aid kit.  
“I was walking through the forest, and then something started calling out my name. I kind of got freaked out and started running, and I tripped up a couple of times. I mean, it was dark, I couldn’t see.”  
He looked at the bag beside her and quickly came to a conclusion. “You ran away from home.”  
“Yep,” she sighed.  
“What were you doing in the woods? Where were you heading?”  
“I don’t know. I went the back way out of my house, and that leads right into the forest. I was trying to think of where to go when those things started up.”  
“What about Tiffany and Aubrey? Couldn't you stay with them? I mean, the road there is much safer.”  
“That’s the first place my parents will look. Come tomorrow they’d be around there and dragging me back home. Plus the road to my house is covered in security sensors and cameras.”  
“Oh, fair enough, I guess. …Did you hurt your ankle?” He gently picked it up in his hands.  
“Ow!” she cried out. “Yes! Yes, I think I twisted it!”  
“Sorry,” he said. Being even more careful than before, he lightly felt around it and gently prodded it. It seriously hurt for him to do that, but she knew he was trying to help, so she just held her tongue and winced. “Yeah, it's definitely twisted, at least. Could be strained. I'll get some ice for it, and bandage it up. It's already swollen and bruised, but it will help. And you've also got a lot of bruises and scratches, so I'll put some ointment on them.”  
“Right little medic, you are,” she teased. He smiled at that.  
“Mabel and I are kind of what you'd call 'accident prone'. I got pretty good at fixing us up over the years.”  
“Oh.”  
“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I'm going to have to take off the shoe.” She bit her lip, not liking the idea, but gave him a firm nod. Carefully as he could, he untied the shoe and pulled the laces out so that it was as loose as possible. Then he slowly slipped it off. It felt like someone was twisting her foot around while it was covered in small knives. She wanted to yelp, but instead, she clenched her teeth and gripped onto the armrests till her fingers were white and stiff. Once the shoe was off, the pain didn't quite recede, but it felt better than when it was being touched. She let a hissing breath escape between her teeth as she relaxed again. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”  
“As much as I can be about now,” she said with a grimace. It was supposed to be a smile to cover up how much she was hurting, but she was tired, and her poker-face wasn't what it usually was.  
Dipper just rolled his eyes and began to look at her cuts and scratches, assessing how bad they were. He worked his way up, checking over her legs, hands, arms, then moved onto the ones on her face. She had a small graze on her chin, and a decent scratch across her forehead. But what was most concerning, was a bruise that was already pretty dark on her left cheek. At the darkest part, he could just make out a mark or imprint of some kind. It looked like a zig-zag inside a circle. No, hold on... it was a 'Z'. No, to wide. It was an 'N'. A backwards capital 'N', like someone had forgotten to invert the letter on a stamp. His eyes narrowed when the darker option entered his mind. It was like someone had backhanded her while wearing a ring with an 'N' embossed into it. 'N' for Northwest. Her father. Preston Northwest had been wearing a ring like that on the middle finger of his left hand.  
“What?” Pacifica demanded, snapping him out of his thoughts.  
“What? Oh, nothing. I'm going to go get that ice. I'll be back in a moment, okay.”  
“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, almost looking embarrassed to be there. More than likely though, he had the feeling it was more than just her being superficial.  
He gave her a nod, then went into the kitchen to get what he needed. Grunkle Stan was in there, sculling back a glass of water... or at least, he assumed it was water. He couldn't smell alcohol, so that was a good sign. As he went into the draws and grabbed a few hand towels, he steadied his resolve, then turned to face his uncle.  
“Ah, Gunkle Stan?”  
“Mmm?” he grunted.  
“Would it be alright if Pacifica stayed here a while?”  
“Doesn't she have anywhere else?”  
“Uh, no. Not really.”  
“Ugh! Alright, then.”  
Dipper was prepared to argue but was taken aback when he registered Stan's reply. “Wait, that's it? You're not going to argue me on this? Not going to kick her out of the house because she's a Northwest? Or send her home?”  
Stan turned to face him. “Dipper. I may not like the Northwests in the slightest, and that includes Pacifica. But I would never send a runaway home, especially when they have their father's ring imprinted into their face.”  
“Oh, you noticed that, huh.”  
“Only an idiot wouldn't notice that. I mean, saying that she came here to visit you at 4am, a big bag over her shoulder? She can stay here as long as she needs. But I'm not helping her up those bloody stairs. I have trouble enough myself!”  
Dipper grinned, knowing that Stan was just trying to maintain his grouchy front. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”  
“Yeah, whatever. Just don't be too much of a bother! You and your sister are hard enough to deal with.”  
“Aww, come on. You know you love us,” he teased as he grabbed the ice and a glass of water. Stan said nothing in reply as Dipper left the room chuckling.  
When he went back into the lounge, Pacifica looked up away from the TV. She had a confused look on her face.  
“What even is this movie?”  
He just shrugged. “I don’t really know. We just sometimes catch Gunkle Stan watching it. He pretends he doesn’t, though.”  
“Seriously?” she said. He had to be joking.  
“Yep. He loves it. It's... really weird, actually. Now come on, let’s get you sorted.” He moved down over to her ankle and pulled bandages out of his kit. “This may hurt a bit.” She gave him a firm nod, ready for him to do it, and then again she gritted her teeth as he wrapped the strips of gauze around. It really hurt having it bound up, but somehow it felt a little better being held into that position. Then he placed the ice pack around it. She tensed up, it was so cold! She knew it would help, but holy crap! “There, better?”  
“Kinda.”  
“Welp, that’s better than a no. Let’s move onto the cuts and bruises.”  
He grabbed a small red tube from his kit, a glass of water, and a cloth. He started by dipping the cloth in the water and gently dabbing at some of the scratches. Thankfully, she had less than she had thought. But she’d been right about the cut on her leg. Turns out that it was just above her knee, and blood had run all the way down to her ankle.  
“Because this isn't embarrassing or anything,” she muttered as he worked.  
“Huh?”  
“Ugh, nothing. Just... I'm sitting here, injured and useless, and you of all people are cleaning me up.”  
He smiled grimly. “I know what you mean. But hey, it could have been worse.”  
“Really? How?” she said doubtfully.  
“Well, that monster out there could have gotten you.”  
“Oh... Yeah. I suppose there's that.”  
“Do you have any idea what it was?”  
“Nope.”  
“What did it look like? And sound like?”  
Instantly Pacifica began to look uncomfortable. “Umm, I didn't see it, but it sounded like... well, it sounded like my parents. Like they were calling out to me. But I knew it couldn't be them, so I ran. Oh, and I ran into these... little guys with pointy hats. They all seemed petrified of it. One of them said it was going to eat me. But, it sounded just like them. I mean, what sort of creature can do that?”  
“I don't know. I'd have to check the-”  
“Ow!”  
“Sorry!” He'd started applying the ointment to the bruise on her cheek and must have pressed a bit too hard. “This is a really nasty bruise.”  
“Ha,” she chuckled nervously. “Yeah, got hit by a branch.”  
“Well, that branch is an asshole,” he said shortly, moving on to the scratch. “Most of these scratches are shallow, but some are going to need a plaster.”  
Just then they heard movement from the doorway. They both looked up to see a sleepy Mabel rubbing at her eyes. She was wearing an oversized shirt with a floppy disk on the front, and she was dragging a stuffed toy by the leg. That pig of hers was snuffling around at her feet. She blinked when she saw the scene before her.  
“Huh... Pacifica?”  
Pacifica looked at Dipper with a raised eyebrow. He just shrugged in reply. She was only being sarcastic when she'd asked if everyone in his family were going to react like that. “Hi Mabel,” she said.  
“What are you doing here? What happened to you?!” the girl cried.  
“Pacifica ran away from home. She's staying with us for a while,” Dipper told her.  
“Wait, I am?”  
“Yep. Grunkle Stan says it's okay.”  
“Yay!” Mabel whooped, then a confused look came across her face. “But that doesn't explain why you're all bet up.”  
“I was chased by something in the forest. Fell down a few times. Branches are not kind.”  
“If all that's from nature, then why does the bruise on your cheek have an 'N' on it?”  
“What?!” she cried, bringing up a hand to cover the bruise and winced when it made contact.  
Dipper sighed in exasperation. “Subtle, Mabel. Very subtle.”  
“What? You noticed too?” she squeaked, starting to sound a little downtrodden. “Is it really that bad?”  
“No! No,” he soothed. “Well, the bruise is. You can only really notice the 'N' if you look. It will be gone in no time.”  
“So... when you said that the branch was an asshole just before... You knew...” He grimaced and nodded. She hung her head.  
“Hey, Mabel,” he said. “We're going to need a special plaster.”  
“I'm on it!” she called.  
Pacifica looked up at him a little perplexed. “Special plaster?  
“Mabel likes her special band aids. “Most of these are shallow enough that I've fixed them up with liquid plaster. But the one on your knee's going to need something better.”  
“I got it!” Mabel said, standing triumphantly with a bright looking strip of paper held up in the air. “I got the perfect one.” She took the seal wrapping off it to reveal the brightly coloured plaster, then took off the tabs and put it over the freshly cleaned cut on her knee. “Here you earned this.”  
She looked down to see what the plaster was. It reminded her of Mabel's stickers, really. It was bright purple and had the words 'You're Ext-ROAR-dinary' written across it. It was also decorated with a couple of lion faces.  
“H-how did I earn this?”  
“Because of last night at the party. You were amazing and brave. Just like a lion.”  
“Trust me, I wasn't brave. I mean, maybe for that moment, yeah, but... I nearly had a panic attack on the dance floor when I saw how many people had left.”  
“You mean when you were dancing with Dipper,” Mabel said, raising her eyebrows a few times suggestively.  
“Shut up, Mabel,” he said. “Look, Pacifica, I get why you don't feel brave. And that is seriously understandable. Your parents aren't nice people, I mean, look at the way they treat you. But you stood up to them. And even if it was just a little bit, that was something. And it was something to be proud of.”  
She gave him a watery smile, but yet again, it faded, and she looked at her lap. “I ran away,” she said. “That's not brave. I wrote them a letter telling them I couldn't live their toxic life anymore, and I ran away. I'm not brave. And I don't know what I'm doing.”  
“Hey, it's okay,” Dipper told her. “We'll help you figure it out.”  
“Hey, you know what this calls for?” Mabel said.  
“Hot chocolate?” her brother guessed.  
“Hot chocolate. I'll go make some. Ooh! And tomorrow I'll show you the art of using mixed tapes to get over your feelings!” And with that, the quirky girl ran out of the room.  
Despite how horrible Pacifica was feeling, a warm sensation began to spread through her, and another faint smile lit up her face. She was getting more care here than she ever had at home. Despite their differences, the twins really seemed to care for her. They cared about how she felt and how she was treated... She'd never known anyone like that before. And it was even more meaningful due to the fact that she'd treated them like shit... a lot. And yet still they wanted to help her. They cared.  
Perhaps staying with the Pines wasn't such a bad idea after all.  
 WKH WZLQV DUH QLFH, LW’V JUHDW WKDW WKHB FDUHG
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Author Note:
Voila! Lots of cuteness coming up. I actually have that mixtape as a playlist on Spotify. So, who can guess the monster? So far there are a few small hints and more will be dropped throughout the chapters. I can give you one more: a lot of people have guessed that it is a shapeshifter. It is not a shapeshifter... though it CAN change its form. Hope that helps! Ciao for now!
Chapter Index  |  First Chapter  |  << Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter >>
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authoressskr · 4 years ago
Text
Misery Business
Pairing: Dean x Reader  ++  Warnings: Language, Mentions of cheating, Lisa Braden (Does that count?)  ++  Word Count: 1712
This was written for @idreamofhazel Hazel’s Throwback Challenge. My given song was: Misery Business by Paramore.
Note: Do NOT repost, copy and paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION. -+- REBLOGGING is fine! -+-
A/N: I rewrote this twice. This is the version that sucked less. Enjoy! 
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When she’d left home for college on the west coast, she had kissed him in the airport, stunning not only himself but their combined families.
“Couldn’t leave without doing that.” Her smile was infectious - making a slow, wide one creep onto his face to mirror hers before his big hands came up to cup her face and pull her into a deeper kiss, ignoring the loud coughing of her dad at this development.
“That’s how you kiss someone goodbye, kiddo.”
“Noted.” Licking her lips, her eyes shifted over to Sam with a promising smirk. “Wanna say goodbye to me too Sam?” Dean’s lips were on her again, firm and chaste as his arms pulled her tight against him.
“Don’t even think about it, Sammy,” Dean muttered afterward, Sam rolling his eyes as Dean released her - watching her hug his parents and then her own as she fought back tears.
“I’ll see you guys at Christmas for sure.” She promised before handing her ticket to the clerk and with a short wave, boarded the plane and flew off to her new adventure.
---
When she’d come home for Christmas, her bright eyes landing on him as Dean entered the house for dinner that night - having been dreaming of coming back and falling into his arms - was suddenly dashed as he tugged a petite brunette into the house behind him. His eyes had dropped when they’d met your own, slightly ashamed. Turning promptly around and heading back into the safety of the kitchen, you ignore your mother’s questioning looks, simply pointing to the living room as you tug on your snow boots and then grab your heavy jacket, fighting back tears once more.
“When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth.” You mutter to yourself, heading towards your best friend’s house as the tears finally slipped down your cheeks.
---
She’d gone without saying goodbye.
Hadn’t even answered his texts or calls.
He didn’t mean to...Lisa just came into the shop one day. And the one night stand turned into a few times a week sex and then into something else.
Sex with Lisa was good. Really good. But, Jesus, dealing with Lisa had been an experience. Dean couldn’t blame her for liking the nicer things. He liked nice things too, but, the shit she was always pointing out constantly - Dean couldn’t even hope to afford at this point in his life. A few weeks later, she suddenly wants him to move in with her and her five-year-old son, Ben. They’d compromised by him spending Friday through Monday at her condo, which was nice at first.
Everything was nice at first.
Then it evolved into subtly dropped hints that her grandfather’s factory needed some help. And “Besides, you don’t want to work as a mechanic forever, Dean,” mentioned a few times.
That morphed into “Granddaddy said he’d be willing to bump you straight to a supervisor since you’re taking care of his baby and Ben.” Three months later: “I don’t see why you won’t take it, Dean. It’s more than generous. Being a mechanic will never pay you as well as this will” and finally to “You’ve only been staying with me because you got attached to BEN?! I can’t believe you, Winchester! I am NOT money hungry! I want a lifestyle, Dean. One you’ll never man up and provide me and Ben with. Get your shit and get out, please.”
Pretty fucking harsh words from a woman who cheated on him...
---
When his kiddo finally came back home again, she’d granted him one wary look at the airport arrival gates before dropping her worn, purple carry-on and wrapping her mom in a crushing hug. Dean could hear her say how much she missed home and them as she reached out to repeat the process with her dad. Giving everyone else a bright, but slightly watery smile, she linked arms with her mom as they all left shuffled out of the airport.
After they’d all eaten lunch, she’d gone upstairs to take a short nap - hoping to help rid her body a little of the Dramamine she’d needed to down to combat the motion sickness. When his sharp ears had heard her moving around upstairs, he headed up. Pausing a second to take a deep breath, Dean knocked on her bedroom door.
“Got a minute, kiddo?”
“Sure.” Her body language said she clearly didn’t want to speak with him, but Dean wanted - no, needed - to lay everything out for her. Best to start simple though...
“How was school?”
“Fine. I took an extra class and it kicked my ass.”
“Don’t overdo it, princess.” Dean shook his head with a wry smile. “And don’t try to compete with Sam. Dude was born an overachiever.” Okay, she’s smiling - now or never. “I, uh, I broke it off with Lisa.” She just raised an eyebrow before looking down, fiddling with the throw tossed over her legs.
“I can’t lie to save my life Dean, you know that.” Nodding, even though she isn’t looking, trying to guess at what she was going to say next as he attempts to calm the sudden rapid beating of his heart. “You’re the only one for me.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Lunging forward, hands pulling her as close as possible while lips molded to lips. “Same, kiddo, same.” Dean smiled, stupidly happy at the best outcome he could’ve hoped for.
---
You’d transferred schools after that, deciding that the University of Kansas, Lawrence was just as good - grumbling in defeat that yes, your father had been right. Yes, dad, it was easier to be at home. Yes, dad, I should have listened to you initially. And cue good-natured eye roll.
When you’d been in Oregon, you had kept mostly to yourself. Your days consisted of going to your classes, going to the library and then going to your dorm room. Which was usually empty due to your hippie-light roommate, Paisley, crashing at her brother’s apartment nearly every evening. However, being that alone had made your homesickness at least double, so transferring had been an easy decision. Did dating Dean significantly added to the ease of that choice? Yes.
You had waited until your semester was up to switch schools, which had been a long three months. And to celebrate getting everything signed over, you were having lunch with Dean at Lafitte’s Bar and Grill, close to his dad’s mechanic shop. After you two ordered, you saw Charlie - part-time bartender and lifelong friend - behind the bar, excusing yourself to chat with her until the food arrived.
That’s when Lisa sauntered in, her eyes almost immediately landed on Dean, raking over the snug heather gray shirt (the one you’d bought him) that fit oh-so-nicely. You were leaning against the bar when she’s nodded her bright red-head towards where Dean sat. Quirking your head to one side before turning your eyes widen to a near-comical level. Well damn, you had to give Lisa one thing - she had balls to chat up the very loving, very loyal man whom she cheated on.
“Long time, no see,” She cooed behind him, placing a tanned hand on his strong shoulder as he turned, his food-lust-filled gaze at the arrival of his burger snapped quickly to tight and uneasy.
“Lisa! Uh, yeah. Long time.”
“You know, Dean, I’ve missed you.” Oh, you bet your sweet ass she did. You thought as you pushed away from the bar and eased up behind her.
“I’m seeing someone.” Dean shuts her down, giving the burger that’d just been placed before him a long look at it that made you smile.
“We don’t even deserve a second chance?” Dean’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t get the chance to answer.
“Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change. Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry that'll never change.” She whipped around to face you, her three necklaces tangling in her hair as her eyes burned into your furiously.
“What did you say to me?!”
“Well, there's a million other girls who do it just like you, you know? Looking as innocent as possible to get to who they want and what they like. But you fucked up and suck your fingers in too many pies, Lisa. You had Dean Winchester, a grumpy teddy bear of a man whose loyalty knows no bounds, and you decided that wasn’t enough?”
“You know what, little girl? You’re a class A bitch!”
“But God, does it feel so good!” You call after Lisa as she storms out, sitting down across from Dean with the smuggest of smug grins on tugging at the corners of your mouth.
“Benny!” Dean calls over his shoulder. “Box!”
“What are you doing?”
“You verbally handed Lisa her ass. I’m taking you home to fuck you senseless for everything you just said.” Benny appears from the kitchen, tossing Dean a box with a shake of his head and a deep chuckle. “Don’t drop this.” Dean shoves the box into your hands as you wrinkle your forehead. Why would he want you to - oof! He tossed you over his shoulder, earning a startled cry and then an eye roll as he waved to Benny and Charlie. “Add it to my tab!”
He sets you down more gently in the passenger seat of his ‘67 Impala than you thought he would, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before closing the door with a crooked smile gracing his handsome face. Once he’s slid in, the key in the ignition, he stops to look over at you with all the adoration and love you’d glimpsed a handful of times before.
“What?” Your voice is soft, searching his face for some hint.
“You. You make all my wildest dreams come true.”
“I never meant to brag, buuuuuut - ya know - I am the complete package.” You slide over until you’re pressed firmly against his warm side, his emerald eyes are so bright and, at the same time, so soft as they lock with your own. “Wanna go make some more of your wildest dreams come true?”
“Fuck yeah, baby.” He manages to get out prior to your lips meeting for a quick, hot kiss - the car rumbling to life before he pointed her towards his apartment.
Tagging: @lucis-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @idreamofhazel
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acsylia · 4 years ago
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Please for the love of whatever holds your fucks do not reblog this or i will unleashed twenty four years worth of repressed badger rage upon you. Thanks.
That's just my post T/LJ opinion since some friends asked and for some reason i'm dumb enough to post it on tmblr instead of texting and copy pasting from one to another, and also because i'm of the apparently rare breed of middle ground feelings about that movie? Enjoy the ride, feel free to chat on it with me so long you're civil etc! Obviously spoilers!! This is about S/W, I'm just adding those dashes so I don't show up on anyone's searches.
So hey @humanteapot, hey @toodotnil and also I’m curious about your opinion @luckygandor but feel free to ignore me if you’d rather not! Here we go.
So, overall, I liked the movie. There's a lot of the passion and reviews and opinions I don't really get the intensity on from the reactions I've seen, on both love and hate sides, so I'll just deconstruct my thought progress and you guys can tell me where you land on that scale and where popular opinions and insights do because maybe I'm missing something.
I liked the movie, didn't love it, not my favorite, but it did something I was hoping for: deconstruct "the old ways" to make room for a new, wider and hopefully more understanding space. Less black and white, bad guys and good guys, just a whole lot of grey matter and force holding everyone together on a delicate balance of both. What i didn't like was 1, on some parts it went /back/ on that concept which cheapened it immensely and was really disappointing to me, and 2, it was so focused on so thoroughly destroying the old that the new suffered from it, it became a laser focus of a guess what none of that anymore and screw you, and while I agree with the general intent behind that, i'm wondering a bit about the motivation behind it when everything else felt like it fell into the background.
(If you're already having a what no reaction to any of that please do add an "imo" after every few words i'm far too lazy to do so myself. I do apologise if I sound a bit too harsh and rude, I'm gonna blame that on too much caffeine and sugar and licorice and staying up for the night after a week of very bad sleep and decisions.)
Anyway what I meant by that, partly, was that the young characters didn't shine much in this war of stars. At least it felt like that to me, while last episode was very much a balance of old and new and seeing the transition, this one really just felt like a goodbye to the old and putting the new on hold for the duration of the movie.
I went into the movie with echoes of non spoilery opinions and reviews that made me fear very much for my opinion of Luke getting out of there. I still love him a lot, if not more now, so for that I am grateful, he and Leia are very dear to me. This movie built him past the legend and as a human, showed a role model still being a beacon of hope and charm and made him flawed and let him have mistakes and own up to them, letting him be incredibly Good without being too good to be true. And also have him all but have his middle finger permanently held up so that was a bonus.
That being said Poe was the only one who had character focus from the young? Okay so on a case to case basis, starting with him, boy was I glad that he was such a fuckhead and not that ideal charming rebel pilot. He was a stupid brave strong brat and I loved him to pieces. He got to learn and have character development and be charming and funny. And yes I saw all these tweets about him being pretty. I sighed at that time. I sigh in a very different way now. He really is very pretty. Also same on the where is my droid, if BB8 wasn't shown out of harm in the minute after every major explosion I started squinting at screen corners to try and spot it/them(/she?). Rose I loved the potential of. She's sweet, she's great, I dreaded the kiss and while there's nothing wrong with this ship, I hope there will be more to it than having her be the girl who stopped Finn from running, the girl who went with Finn to look for that other guy, the girl who saved Finn, the girl who loved Finn. I know she was more than that. I just wanted more of the more. Finn himself felt to me like no one really knew what to do with him after he awoke, the only thing he did for himself was facing Phasma and god that was awesome but incredibly short, and I hope we see more of a direction and purpose to him next movie.
Rey is, wow Rey is a big case in herself. Ok I placed a lot of hope on Rey. I mean who didn't, we get a girl for the new face of the new age of Jedi. That's freaking awesome. Yet she spent most of the movie facilitating the plot between Ben and Luke, being the string the bridge between them two, her own story line an echo. Okay less metaphors more facts, first things first thank fucking whoever made her parents nobodies because I was really hoping for that. Now what I said earlier about going back on the concept of grey space? The entire movie is spent with Rey and Ben as this yin ang yang figure, spark of dark in the figure of light and spark of light in the figure of light. That leads to a pretty fucking awesome at least aesthetically back to back battle and then, immediatly withdraws, and goes back to black and white with those two. Ben the villain and Rey the hero, no further exploration of that middle ground, of the very fast built bond they had of trying to find their feet lost in an order they both belonged and were strangers to. I had hoped for more, for the both of them. And that's all Rey did? Her explorations only a buffer or a mirror to his? Even her search for her parents in the end to build the contrast between those two? I don't know maybe I had too high expectations, but it felt like the whole plot line was more centered around him and she was just that. The buffer the mirror the contrast to highlight his character. With some breaks of while super awesome show of power, I had hoped for more. For, I don't know, something that would make me feel like an attempt of a connection with the world rather than with just Ben. I'm sad I see it that way, and I'm glad some people went and saw the heroine they hoped for, but yeah the disappointment is there for me.
I feel like I'm writing a lot more negative than positive while overall I enjoyed the movie far more than I disliked it, I'll look forward to the next movie either way with probably too high expectations once again but hey hope /is/ the main theme of this franchise so I'll hold onto mine.
For more little details of things I liked and liked less. The banter was great but some jokes felt a bit out of place, it's a dumb comment to make when I can't recall which exactly but while I enjoyed most a few made me sigh and go yes we get it you're funny and witty at the script. There was a lot of very good shots and aesthetically pleasing parts that I really hope to find gifsets of eventually. Also the ice pups were gorgeous. I don't get the porgs love though I, find them incredibly unsettling?! And slightly creepy. I'm not sure. But everyone finds them cute. I just want to take a few steps back away from them. The goddamn shoulder brush was a piece of art and someone tweeted just a gif of another series/movie's shoulder brush with a caption I can't remember and I can't find it again and it's driving me nuts. Leia and her bff and their last exchange made me very happy and I apparently need to look into the comics. I loved what they did with those two and Poe. That’s more of the grey space I needed. I have a question, is it explained in canon at some point why most of space is humanoid? I know it sounds judgy it's not I know it can't be easy and there's plenty of alien faces but god the big ass majority of humanoids everywhere so yeah just wondering if that's covered or just there and accepted? Let me know if you do! Rey and Poe finally meeting all smiles introducing each other. I feel like Rey would have shone brighter among the other kids and they'd have more direction around her too, I hope the four get to stay together and shine bright next time. And crossed fingers for no love triangle because I'm very wary. BB8 still bae. I paid very little attention to Luke and Leia's reunion because my mind was a crazy loop mantra of oh fuck god don't cry oh my god don't cry i need to not break into tears right now holy shit fuck. I am honestly surprised my cousin didn't hear the loud gasp and sob I let out when Luke smiled up to a two suns lit sky. That last scene with the boy and his broom looking up the stars with hope, courage and determination and being such a spark of light of a star himself is one of my favorite scenes of the franchise.
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trashpandaorigins · 4 years ago
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Gideon’s Bible Track Five What's in a Name Part Two
As a fanfic writer I cannot express how much comments mean to me! These fics do take an exorbitant amount of time to write with flash fics taking me anywhere from an hour to two hours and longer fics taking three hours to five or six. I write for free and all I ask is comments/feedback in return when you like and or reblog!
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“I am Groot!”
“Yes!” Rocket exclaimed, quickly making sure there was no one else on board the Milano who might hear his parental like joy. They had stopped on ThreeFold a planet made up of three small planets connected by asteroid belts. Gamora had business there and the rest of the crew decided to check out the new territory. But as usual, Rocket professed to stay behind with baby Groot as they had come to calling him. “That’s right buddy, we DID break out of a prison together on Maldar!” Slowly but surely baby Groot had begun to recall certain memories of their misadventures together. Rocket was delighted each and every time. A piece of his best friend was still alive.
“I am Groot!”
“That’s right, I am Rocket!” He said breathlessly full of hope. Had the memories of their time together come back? Baby Groot ran around the table again, reaching out his arms with their vines to knock over several dishes. The clattered to the ground smashing into bits. Rocket laughed wathing the small tree rush around and break everything he could wrap his vines around.
“I am Groot, I am Groot, I am Groot!” The raccoon like creature smiled with unsurprised glee. Baby Groot remembered his name. He had many names before he became known as Rocket. The first name he had was something he could not quite recall. A combination of squeaks and sniffs that someone, he assumed his mother, would use to identify him from the other balls of fur around him, sisters and brothers? He never knew. He tried to remember the patterns of squeaks and sniffles, tried to remember his original name but like everything else before Halfworld, it was a muddled drunken haze. It was the name he hated the most that he had the longest.
“Subject 89P13,” he could still hear them saying it in those monotone voices of theirs as they scribbled on their note pads and examined him. “Subject 89P13 reacts to electrician. Subject 89P13 has yet to achieve language acquisition. Subject 89P13 responds to sensory deprivation.” It had not been until he met Groot that Rocket got his name.
“I am Groot!” Rocket grabbed him just in time before he reached for Peter’s cassette deck.
“Hey, big guy easy there,” he put the squirming Baby Groot onto his shoulders. “Do you remember when we got free from that looney asylum?” Rocket proceeded to retell one of his favorite and only pleasant memory of that place. The day they escaped.
“I am Groot!”
“Gimme a second!” 98P13 growled, scouring at the gun. No more ammo, and fifteen security guards ran towards them armed to the teeth. The heavy wind of the launching area whipped around them, stirring Groot’s branches and his fur. Had they not been in the middle of escaping, 89P13 would have reveled in the first fresh air he had felt in years.
“I am Groot, I am Groot!” “I’M not doing anything!” He snarled, “It’s the flarking gun!” Above them sirens wailed, he could hear more ships coming above them. 89P13 smashed the gun to pieces, curing as he threw it aside and crawled up to Groot’s shoulders. From the vantage point he could see people armed with guns poking out of the building and those running towards them were closer. Groot waited for the last possible moment before roaring and lengthening his arms, striking out at the guards until all of them lay unconscious or, more likely dead. Shots echoed around them which 89P13 ducked from behind the floral colossus. Finally, they were able to fight their way backward,
“That one!” 89P13 cried pointing at a two-person star flyer not five feet away.
“I am Groot!” He nodded and they back peddled towards it, Groot using his arms to knock out anyone who came close on foot while 89P13 scrambled to pick up a gun from one of the fallen guards. Good, still loaded. He aimed at those up in the buildings with the guns taking them out with no discursion until Groot ducked to avoid hitting the swooping wing of the ship.
“Great, let’s go!”
“I am Groot!”
“No! We don’t have time for…” the large tree looked at him with such innocents it touched something in 89P13. This place, it had messed him up real good. But not Groot. Somehow he was able to remain…pure. He had not let them tear out his heart.
“Fiine…” 89P13 groaned. But stay here. I want this thing ready to go!” Groot nodded earnestly.
“I am Groot!”
“When am I not careful?” Without a reply 89P13 leveled his gun and took off, dashing past the few remaining panicked guards to the main power building. He pulled the trigger, blasting a hole in the wall and scurried through. The room was dark apart from the red flashes of the alarm. All wires and boxes with labels he could thankfully read. Outside more gun fire and screams. He ran around, desperately trying to find it until he spotted it against the far wall. “Containment,” hurrying, 89P13 flipped the switch, the green light on the box turned to off. More gun shots. Frantically he ran back, through the mess of wires, shooting a guard who ran at him as he tried to exit. Across the landing and launching bay the star flyer hovered, Groot waving as bullets ricochet off. He hoisted the gun onto his back, there was no time left. Animals one by one were coming out of the different buildings to the alarm of the guards. Rocket peered around, trying to find her.
“Lylla?” He tried, but his voice was over shadowed by the fighting. “Lylla?!” He shouted, keeping one eye on the ship and one out for the small otter he had come to know. She had been in the cell across from him during their imprisonment and had already established a name for herself. She taught 89P13 which orderlies could be persuaded to give them extra food, which guards to watch out for and most importantly, effective methods of attacking the strange people in the strange goggles and coats. He had seen her take down four of them on two separate occasions, once she’d clawed out the eye of one of them. That was the only time 89P13 had seen their faces. Like him, Lylla had been experimented on for enhancement purposes and she would come back from who knew what groggy, bruised and broken like him. She never complained, she taught him not to complain. He knew that if she had gotten free she’d be the one leading the way but he hadn’t seen her in weeks.
“Lyll-…ahh!” He fell forward. White hot pain going through his side. Staggering he made his wat to the ship, swaying as he gently secured himself in the cockpit beside Groot.
“I am Groot?”
“No,” he grimaced. “I didn’t see her.”
“I am Groot…”
“Maybe.” 89P13 gripped the steering, with a roar and a hum they were off.
“I am Groot!” Groot pointed out the window.
“A rocket? Where?” 89P13 asked, but then he saw. Under the left wing. One look at it and he glanced back to the wreckage they had caused. The asylum burned and collapsed. Satisfaction and rage melded into one. It wasn’t enough. All of the animals were out of their cages by now, so taking aim, he punched the release button and off the rocket went.
“So long motherfu****!” He watched as it soared off, landing on the building where he had been held. It erupted in an inferno as he laughed and they sped away with exhilaration.
“I am Groot!”
“Yeah that rocket was something!” he agreed, he watched the rear cams behind them as they went out of range.
“…rocket…” he thought and found his grin widening.
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In cannon, Lylla shows up in some of the earliest comics featuring Rocket Raccoon. She serves as his love interest in a way that I feel is extremely sexist. Early MCU and even today MCU is still not great with women and other female characters. I decided to instead make her a mentor to Rocket in his early days and maybe his friend but not a romantic interest. Personally, I don't ship Rocket with anyone romantically. Or Groot for that matter. Just my own take. Hope you still enjoy!
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ask-de-writer · 3 years ago
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 21
SEA DRAGON’S GIFT
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
140406 words
copyright 2018
written 2007
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.
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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users
Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.
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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here
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Chapter 5a: Tanlin and Story time
Amid the bustle of crowds, racing children dashed about.  They now had a glorious place to run on the biggest decks in the fleet.  Sea birds of many sorts swooped about and squabbled for the best perches on ridge poles and comically tried to maintain their balance on guy lines.  
Tanlin was shopping fabrics from the Gula’s booth.  Khilda, the proprietress, was confused.  This lady of exotic looks and good taste had just publicly married Barad?  The proof seemed to be in the two deck-hands who were hovering over her like paddle ducks over their chicks.
She knew the sailors and disliked them.  They had a bad reputation among a bad lot.  Being better dressed surely hadn’t made them any better.  Scupper sweepings picked up by the Grandalor when nobody else would.  Now, they were being as solicitous and polite as could be asked for.  The air of absolute assurance radiating from the woman they were attending was the only reason that Khilda let them into the booth.  For a wonder, they were keeping their hands off the merchandise.
“T’ese satins o’ yers are luvely.  Oi like t’e red-black color play.” She pulled her brown pony-tail over her shoulder and examined it and the cloth together critically.  “Dunnae really go wit’ m’ ‘air t’ough, t’e colors are t’ strong.”
She let the fabric of the bolt-end fall and looked at others.  Khilda did not want to loose this sale.  Word had run through the booths that Tanlin’s scrip was being spent plentifully.  Still, it was the Grandalor’s credit — — and that was always questionable.
“True, but we also have these greens.  They’ll work well.  What are you looking for, something to please your husband?”
Tanlin looked up in surprise.  “Wye wad Oi want t’ do t’at?  Oi gladden ‘im already an’ ‘e m’.  Tis t’ be an outfit for us bot’.”  Her eye found a bolt over in the corner of the booth.
“T’ere! ‘Ond, wad ye bring m’ t’at ane, please?”  One of her men went carefully through the booth to get the bolt in question.
Khilda’s heart sank as she saw which one had been chosen.  The fabric of the bolt was botched.  The loom tension had been uneven, giving the fabric a bad curl.
“T’e color’s perfect!  T’e brown wit’ red ‘ighlights will do for us bot’!”  Tanlin caught sight of Barad through the crowd. People were making way for him without thought, responding to his manner of dress and air of calm authority.
“Barad! Luve!  Come see w’at Oi’ve got!”
People did respond to her call.  “Barad?  Where?” they looked around and realized that the finely dressed gentleman was, in fact, the infamous and usually slovenly captain of the Grandalor.
“What have you found, Tanlin?”  He put an arm about her waist and she leaned affectionately into him.
“Look at t’is fabric, Luve.  T’e Gula’s bright reds an’ greens are too strong for us.  We do better in t’e dark colors.  Amber-browns t’ blacks — — just look at t’e red ‘ighlights t’at move over t’is brown sheen.  Tis perfect for us.”
Barad eyed the fabric dubiously.  “It’s flawed, Dear, don’t you see the curl to it?”
“O’ corse Oi do.  Besides t’e color, t’at’s wye Oi wont ‘t.” She sighed, “Someane bock ‘ome in t’e Arrakan fleet taught m’ t’ work wit’ ‘t.  Tis nae flat an’ neit’er are we.”
Her shoulders began to shake and she bit the back of her hand to keep from sobbing.  Her eyes filled with tears that leaked a little from the corners.  Her voice quavered slightly as she added, “Oi wish Oi could remember ‘oo ‘t wa’ taught m’.  Even ane familiar face wad be such a treasure.”
Barad gently wrapped his massive arms about her while Khilda looked on gape mouthed.
“Peace, darling Love.  Your memories will return in their own good time. Dark Iren must have had his own sound reason to send you back to us but keep your people from you.  You are safe with me.”
This caring man was not the Barad that the Naral fleet knew.
Biting back tears, Tanlin shook with the effort to regain her composure.  It is so easy to put myself in her place because I must deny all of those that I know, on or off the ship.  These feelings are real. Kurti must die if I am to live.  “Oi do know t’at, m’ Luve. ‘T’s just so hard t’ know all o’ t’ese t’ings an’ ‘ave nae trace o’ t’ose folk ‘oo filled t’em wit’ meanin’.”  Regaining her composure, she went back to the task at hand and finished choosing fabrics and trims.  Barad stood by patiently and watched.
Turning to Khilda, he said, “I believe her.  She always knows what to do and how to do it.  We saved her from drowning when her ship went onto a rock during a Dragon Tide.  She’d been hit and swept overboard by a falling yardarm.  When she woke from her coma a few Wohans later, she could remember everything except the people of her past.  She has just passed the Ship Master’s examinations, confirming her as a Naral fleet First Officer, in line for a captaincy if one comes open.”
“So much done by someone so young?” asked Khilda curiously.
“Most of her life has been spent learning what she knows.  They educate in a different way in the Arrakan fleet.”
“I see.  On a different topic, how is she going to pay for all of these things?”
“A note drawn on surveyed and secured cargo.”  Seeing Khilda’s skeptically raised eyebrow, Barad went smoothly on, “I know what is thought of the Grandalor’s credit, so I had Alor of the Longin do the survey and provide for the cargo’s security.  It is no longer on the Grandalor.  Send to Alor for collection of the note.”
Khilda discretely withdrew and sent a runner to the Longin booths.  The runner returned and whispered into her ear.  Both of her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she sent the runner to all of the nearby booths to let them know that Tanlin’s credit was not merely good, it was very good.
A rapid patter of drum-talk on a small tocsin drum cut across the air of the Gathering, sending flocks of sea-birds into the air and causing children to look about for playmates and yell STORY TIME! They scampered off in the direction of Kurin’s toy booth.  Tanlin dropped everything else that she had been doing, settled her charges and darted after the children, leaving both of the deck-hands to follow in her wake.
When they finally caught up with her, she was sitting at the edge of a pool of children who were giving Kurin their utmost attention.  Kurin was sitting on the sales board of her booth, where all the watchers could see.  She had let down a dark curtain behind her making a sort of stage out of her booth.
Kurin stood up on her sales board, her head still lower than her awning, and  held up a hand for silence — and got it.  She began by asking a question.  “In all of the World of Sea, there are only three creatures that men do not hunt.  Why don’t we hunt the Ord fish?”
Children eagerly held up hands, wanting to show off for their friends.  Kurin pointed to the smallest child.
“‘Cause it’s about the most poison thing in the ocean!” he exclaimed proudly.
“Right, the Ord is the deadliest thing in the sea, so far as poison is concerned.  Here, have a model of one to learn what it looks like.” Kurin felt about on an invisible shelf, muttering, “I know it’s here somewhere.  Ah, here it is!”   She appeared to pull the toy fish out of thin air, to the delight of her audience, and tossed it to the child.
“Why don’t we hunt the Great Dragons?” she asked, head tilted questioningly.
Eager hands went up all over the group as children vied for attention. Kurin chose an older child to answer this one.
“‘Cause Sea is their world and if we tried to hunt them, they could destroy us!”  He looked sternly about, arms crossed over his chest.
“Right!” she exclaimed.  “They helped the First Ships and then helped us to make the First True Ships.  But they were here first and they are more powerful than we are.  Wiser, too.”  She produced a rolled parchment, seeming to lift it out of a hand that was empty and far too small to hold it.  She unrolled it so that all could see the colored drawing, then gave it to the pleased young man.  “This is a picture of Dark Iren and Blind Mecat at the Wedding Raft.”
She paused with dramatic flair, “Who knows what else it is that we never hunt?”  Her eyes scanned the crowd.  A small child had his hand up.  On impulse, she picked him.
“We don’t hunt paddle ducks,” he said confidently, “because we raise them and they are so funny.”
“A good guess,” she answered.  “We first got paddle ducks by hunting them, though.  Here, have one.”  Her hands appeared empty as she made a tossing motion toward him.  A soft cuddle toy of a paddle duck, made of canvas scraps and fluff landed in his surprised hands. “The other creature that we never hunt is the Orca Whale.  Would you like to hear the story of why we never hunt them?  Mecat herself told it to me.”
TO BE CONTINUED
<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>
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footbaliimagines · 4 years ago
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to be loved and to be in love (a whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine)
I don’t think anyone understands how badly I want to love and to be loved. It’s all I think about.
(inspired by the above post that I saw reblogged onto my dash a few times. the title is taken from 18 by one direction)
(p.s. this could really be about anyone, not necessarily just a footballer because nothing is too specific. i kind of just wrote this during a lunch break so please excuse any mistakes or bits that don’t add up haha)
(p.p.s. my exams are finished in 3 weeks tomorrow so that’s when you’ll next see some writing!! I love love love receiving all requests so please carry on sending me them!!!!)
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 You used to lie in bed and think about what it might be like to share your sheets with someone else.
How it might feel to have someone to come home to, to kiss, to dance with, to share your days and equally, your nights with, to text constantly throughout the day.
You never thought that you’d be one of those girls, as you used to sneer.
You never thought you’d pine so desperately for someone to love you and equally, to love someone back, because you were independent, focused on your work, encircled by so many brilliant friends, men and women alike, that your romantic endeavours had seemingly been on the backburner ever since, well, forever.
It wasn’t like you didn’t meet guys.
(Or take them home afterwards.)
But your standards were impeccably high, and you would always find a fault with every guy that wanted to take things a step further, or asked you for a second date. Your friends called you picky, but you insisted it was just that you were focused and busy and knew precisely what you were looking for.
(Sure.)
And for the most part, it was fine, 100% a-okay, because it meant that you avoided the pain and the heartbreak, and steered clear of boys with little more on their mind than vodka and fucking the next girl they saw. The amount of times that your friends had approached you with horror stories of dates leaving the next morning without saying goodbye, or they had come to your door in tears because of a guy fucking them over you up entirely.
And you understood, to some extent, because you weren’t Bridget Jones, or Meg Ryan in some 1980s-romantic comedy, and you weren’t going to be swept off your feet at the top of the Empire State Building, whisked down the canals of Venice or taken on a helicopter ride across the Champs-Elysees.
You were just you.
Normal, hardworking, average you.
The feeling gradually got worse as you progressed through your 20s, you found. It wasn’t so much that you were lonely, because you were never short of wonderful people in your life or plans for the weekend, it was more that watching your friends fall in love, get engaged, meet guys, meet future in-laws, made you feel like a bit of an outsider.
You were the funny, perpetually single, serial-one-night-stand friend, the comic relief to your friends’ relationship woes, unable to relate to how they felt coming home after a date with a guy they swear could marry right there and then.
You just want to love and to give your all.
You just want to be loved and feel confident in knowing that somewhere on the planet there's someone who feels the same about you as you do them.
You want to meet him.
(And eventually, finally, you do.)
You meet him at a bar, on a Saturday night in June.
The night unfolds in an all-too familiar way– the friends you came with have all either spent the better part of the last hour talking to a cute guy that approached them by the bartender, and you’ve politely turned down the last 2 guys to approach you and ask for the same.
(One had a wandering hand which definitely did not belong curled around your waist before you’d even exchanged names, and the other started off your conversation with a crude, probably misogynist comment about your arse that made you throw up a bit in your mouth.)
(Jesus, if turning down men like that made you picky then you would gladly accept the prize of being the pickiest woman alive.)
It was a bizarre, contradictory paradox that you found yourself in. Wanting to meet a guy and fall hopelessly, ridiculously, head over heels in love, but simultaneously rejecting the vast majority of those coming over and saying hello. It was probably because you’d spent too much time constructing the idea of your perfect man in your head.
He would be tall, handsome and funny, but not overly brash or eager to become the centre of attention, more so witty and quick to make dry, sarcastic comments at lightning speed. He’d be empathetic, care about his family, and his friends and just about everything else, the environment, the state of the current world, the need to do more and say more and help those in need. And he would be nervous, or just a bit shy, because cockiness was a turnoff like nothing else in your eyes, and able to sweep you off your feet with words but not feeling the need to make exaggerated, cheesy, vomit-inducing romantic gestures. He would be driven and able to motivate you as well, but not so career-focused that he would be willing to step on everyone else to get to the top, or so competitive that everything was a game with the ultimate aim of getting 1 up on you.
(It was idealistic, sure.)
(But wasn’t being that the very essence of romance in the first place?)
“I don’t mean to seem like a stalker, but you’ve drank four of those funny-coloured cocktails in the space of about 20 minutes, and I was wondering if maybe you needed to talk?” A deep voice chuckles over your shoulder, soft and light over the jazz music playing in the background.
You roll your eyes, as if by instinct, and shrug your shoulders. “They’re non-alcoholic, but I appreciate the observation.” You remark.
“Ah.” He nods, and you look at him properly.
He’s fiddling with the bottom of his shirt, holding a glass of coke in his other hand and looking at you intently. He’s tall and well-built, with broad shoulders stretching the material of his white shirt and there’s a hint of stubble casting a shadow on his jawline. When he looks at you directly, you’re pretty sure everything else in the room save his smile and the pleasant flickering of the ambient lighting disappears.
It’s romantic and fuzzy and dream-like, and it must be too good to be true.
Surely.
(Right?)
You attempt a smile, but it’s probably more like a grimace at this point, and he returns it, a light pink washing over his cheeks. “Can I sit?”
“I don’t own the bar.”
His face falls at your comment and he frowns ever so slightly, but he attempts a smile once more and takes a seat on the stool furthest to your right, leaving a seat empty in between. You can’t help but smile. Was your resting bitch face and default hostile tone really that intimidating?
“I’m sorry.” You pipe up.
“For?”
“For being an arse.”
He laughs. “If that’s being an arse to you, then you must be a bloody nice person.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, and you can’t fight the grin on your lips. “I’m not usually this moody.” You muse. “When you’ve been ditched by all your friends, it’s kind of a given, though.”
“Ditched?”
“They’re here, somewhere.” You spin on your stool and turn away from the bar, scanning the vicinity, glancing across the tables and the makeshift dance floor in the middle. “There's Emma, with that guy in the corner. Megan’s on the dance floor over on that side and that’s- wait, no, that's Hannah getting off with that middle-aged guy by the smoking area.”
“Does this happen often?”
“What, me being left by myself while my friends go off and get with random guys?”
He nods.
“Happens more times that I’d like to admit.” You laugh, slightly resentful at how bitter you sound, and sip at your straw until only slush is left at the bottom of your glass.
“I’m not sure how.” He speaks up, after a moment of lulled silence. “You’re, well- you’re…” He trails off and is unable to meet your eyes.
You desperately try to meet his gaze, subconsciously tightening your grip on your glass and mentally willing him to talk. Raising an eyebrow, you drill your gaze into him further, prompting him to say something.
(Say something.)
(Speak before I throw my glass at your beautiful head, you think.)
“You’re beautiful, is what I’m trying to say.” He eventually stutters out.
This time, it’s your turn to blush.
“God, I’m sorry.” He groans before letting out a nervous laugh and pushing his stool back to stand up. “Right. I’ll be off. I’m sorry Have a nice night.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Are you sure?”
“100%.”
And he sits down again, clumsily introduces himself and reaches to shake your hand only to knock over your glass and accidentally grope your chest when reaching over to apologise.
He asks for your name, and then your favourite vegetable and if you’re a cat or a dog person. He’s a footballer, just turned 28 and in the prime of his career, a committed Netflix-binger who loves his dog more than just about anyone or anything, recycles absolutely everything and has been committed to improving and bettering himself since the day he decided that kicking around a ball was what he do everyday.
(Driven, empathetic, funny, caring, dedicated)
(Pretty much a full house.)
He laughs when you tell him you’re perpetually single because you can’t quite seem to find the guy who makes it all click for you, because he’s the complete same, in love with the idea of love and being in love, wanting to find that one great person to spend the rest of his life with and stay with until his end of days.
(And a very, very happy six months later you discover that apparently, it’s you.)
(Who’d have thought?)
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