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#trash writing i should probably stick to short posts lol
gothfeedergf · 7 months
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This is a fetish fic, includes feederism and weight gain stuff dni if you're not into it !!!
Where Miguel gets captured n force fed, includes funnel feeding, NSFW just gross in general lmao enjoy
He crouched atop a rooftop, watching a facility below. He had received a tip that there was someone conducting dangerous experiments on innocent citizens, and he was determined to gather evidence to expose their crimes.
The night was shrouded in darkness, with only the occasional flicker of neon signs casting eerie glows across the cityscape. Miguel's heightened senses allowed him to detect faint murmurs from within the compound. He knew he had to proceed with caution.
Silently, he descended to the ground and made his way through the complex's labyrinthine corridors. His advanced suit granted him enhanced vision, allowing him to see clearly in the dimly lit corridors.
Miguel was on high alert, but as he reached what appeared to be a secure lab, a blinding flash of light engulfed him. He cried out in pain as searing energy surged through his body. It was a trap.
Disoriented and weakened, Miguel tried to fight back, but the room was filled with guards clad in high-tech suits. They immobilized him with energy restraints that sapped his strength.
With their mission accomplished, the guards swiftly moved in, securing Miguel to a sturdy chair in the center of the room. Thick, unbreakable restraints bound his wrists and ankles, rendering him powerless. His enhanced senses, once his greatest asset, were now a cruel reminder of his vulnerability.
One figure emerged from the shadows, a sinister smile on her face. A brilliant but morally bankrupt scientist, she had developed technology capable of nullifying Miguel's powers and had long been obsessed with capturing him.
"Welcome"her voice was just as hypnotic as her gaze. "You're here just in time for the experiment"
Miguel's muscles tensed as he strained against the restraints, his frustration growing with each passing second. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever help you with your sick experiments!"
She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with a twisted sense of excitement. "You see, you have no choice in this matter. And who knows, perhaps you'll even come to enjoy the experiment. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." The scientist chuckled, her fingers tapping on a sleek, futuristic device resting on a nearby table.
A sense of unease crept over him as she continued to speak. Her words were cryptic, hinting at a twisted agenda that sent shivers down his spine.
"I have studied the human mind extensively. And I believe I have found a most intriguing pathway to one's desires," She mused, her tone dripping with malicious intent.
The scientist motioned to her guards, who brought in a peculiar-looking device.
It consisted of a large cylindrical container, filled with a thick, creamy liquid. His eyes narrowed as he recognized its potential implications, and despite the surreal nature of the situation, the liquid's decadent aroma made his mouth water involuntarily.
Connected to the container was a long, flexible tube, its surface cold and slick to the touch.
The container itself was adorned with a series of dials and knobs, displaying the ominous power that she had over the flow of the liquid. He knew that once those dials were turned, there would be no going back. He would be subjected to the scientist's cruel experiments.
"Allow me to introduce you to my newest creation" She said with a sinister smile. His heart sank, realizing the predicament he was in.
With a swift motion, she fastened a strap behind his head, securing the tube in place. His lips wrapped around the tube, stretching slightly to accommodate the device. Panic surged through him as he realized that his protests were falling on deaf ears.
"Please, don't do this," he pleaded, he voice muffled by the tube.
The room fell silent, the only sounds being the rhythmic pumping of the liquid through the tube and his labored breathing.
As the minutes ticked by, his resistance waned, and his senses grew increasingly disoriented. The combination of the liquid's taste and the mounting pressure in his belly began to wear down his willpower.
As the experiment pressed on, Miguel found himself forced to keep up with the relentless speed of the machine. The thick, creamy liquid flowed steadily through the tube, and he had little choice but to gulp it down as quickly as it arrived. This left him breathless and unable to mount any meaningful protest.
The taste, initially strange and unfamiliar, had evolved into something oddly satisfying. It was a peculiar blend of sweetness and richness, reminiscent of melted ice cream. He couldn't deny that he was growing accustomed to it, and with every swallow, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of craving. It was as though the taste had become addictive, compelling him to keep drinking despite the unsettling circumstances.
He couldn't help but steal a look at his own body, and his eyes widened in shock. Miguel had always been in impeccable physical condition.
His suit, which had once hugged his form with precision, now appeared stretched and taut across his midsection. His normally flat and toned abdomen had swollen slightly, causing his belly to protrude more than usual, it was distinctly different from his usual athletic physique.
 A flush of warmth spread across his cheeks, and he tried to ignore the unusual and, at times, arousing sensations that were coursing through him. 
He found himself increasingly frustrated with his own inability to resist the strange allure of the situation. Miguel had always maintained his composure, but now, he felt like he was losing control, both physically and emotionally.
With renewed determination, he attempted to pull away from the unyielding restraints once more. However, this time, the bonds dug into his noticeably bloated belly. The pressure against his expanding midsection, combined with the sensation of the liquid inside him sloshing around, sent an unexpectant surge of heat through his body.
A low, involuntary whine escaped his lips, and he felt his belly resting on his lap now, lightly brushing against his crotch. He couldn't help it, his hips instinctively bucking in search of any semblance of relief. 
The scientist couldn't resist the opportunity to taunt and tease Miguel as he sat helplessly restrained in the chair.
She circled him slowly, her hair cascading like a dark curtain around her. Her slender fingers traced a maddeningly slow path along his arm, sending a shiver down his spine.
He shifted and writhed in his restraints, his movements becoming increasingly erratic as he sought to alleviate the strange tension building within him
The sensation coursing through his body had become overwhelming, and his heavy, swollen belly, pressed firmly against his cock, seemed to beg for attention.
The scientist leaned closer, her voice, as hypnotic as it was malicious, whispered in his ear with a seductive undertone. "You're so strong, so capable," she continued, her voice dripping with condescension, "And yet, here you are, stuck in a chair, grinding against your own belly. How pathetic"
She trailed her fingers down his chest, before reaching out and gently lifting his chin with her slender fingers, coaxing him to look up at her.
"Tell me, Miguel," she whispered, her lips just inches from his, "Are you really that desperate?"
The scientist, fully aware of Miguel's inability to respond with the tube still in his mouth, leaned in closer, her lips curling into a sinister and knowing smile.
"You are, right? Look at you," she cooed, her fingers lifting his softened belly slightly, revealing a damp spot on his clothes, "Seems like you've been enjoying my experiment a little too much"
His response was immediate and instinctual. Despite the humiliation of his situation, he couldn't deny the strange allure of the scientist's touch. He leaned into her touch, pressing his bloated belly against the palm of her hand, seeking more of the strange sensations she was provoking.
The tension that was building in Miguel's tummy was undeniably one of arousal, a potent and almost intoxicating sensation that pulsed through him with each teasing touch from the scientist.
"¿Te gusta esto?" she purred, her fingers tracing patterns on his bloated belly.
Miguel, still unable to speak as the liquid continued to be pumped into him, could only nod in response, his cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and humiliation as he struggled to find a comfortable position.
She decided to give him a little break, and a faint, wet sound echoed in the room as the tube came free from his mouth.
Miguel, his lips now free from the tube but still feeling the lingering effects of the experiment, couldn't help but pout, letting out a soft, needy whine. The abrupt interruption of the experiment left him frustrated and confused.
The scientist, momentarily taken aback by his reaction, felt a flicker of surprise. Her usually steely demeanor softened, and she couldn't help but ask if he wanted more, her voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity.
"Yes, please"
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wip wednesday :)
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hi y’all so i wasn’t tagged (whoops broke the rules) and it’s still kinda early in the day but i wanted to make this post because i’ve been working on a few other fics and wanted to share :)
i’ve been finishing up Aftermath - the reason it’s taking me so long to post chapters is because i initially had a very sad ending planned. i weeped when i was rereading it because i’ve gotten emotionally attached to the characters (what a surprise) and am now rewriting a happier ending. i think there’s like... 3 chapters left (don’t quote me on that, i’m a mess and it could change, but its unlikely).
there’s also two other fic ideas that i had. the first one kinda throws canon out the window - but there are still some elements, like Bertrand and Savannah’s relationship (though it’s extremely altered), the assassination with Olivia’s parents, Godfrey & Barthelemy’s treason... it’s just changed, like Queen Eleanor’s story is different, Leo doesn’t abdicate, Liam and Drake never really became best friends, and MC (Klara/Claire Brooks) leads a double life, keeping both men (and families) away from each other
the second one throws TRH 3 in the trash (even though it already is kinda trash, haha). this would take place during the last chapter of TRH 2 and throw the whole vote stuff out the window - because the farther we go with that, the less it makes sense. basically, Auvernal kidnaps the heir, Barthelemy is involved in it, and Liam and MC (i’m keeping her as Riley Brooks for this one) along with the gang do everything they can to get her back (obviously why wouldn’t they). i thought it would be interesting putting a part of it in the heir’s point of view, since those were kinda funny in some of the recent chapters. nothing too dark or serious (i mean yeah the heir getting kidnapped is serious, but you know what i mean. besides that, there are no major trigger warnings)
both these fics will most likely flop, but i had fun with these ideas and wanted to share
so here we go
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The Aftermath - Chapter 32
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When Bastien enters, his eyes widen as they rest on Boris. He gives Olivia a look.
“Drake,” she tells him, hoping that would be enough of an answer. Bastien frowns. Olivia didn’t know why Drake had done this either. The fool hadn’t given her any information as to what this man had done. Where was she even supposed to start?
Now she was really wishing she had called Jacob to give her a background check.
“So,” she begins, pacing in front of Boris. Bastien was at full attention, closely watching both of them. “What happened between you and Drake?”
Boris spits blood to the opposite side of the room. It drips down the wall. “Call the bastard in here. Tell him to explain.” His accent is thick and his voice is tried.
I probably should, she thinks to herself.
Bastien gives Olivia another look. She nods at him.
“Let us shift the conversation,” Bastien begins. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Lady Riley or her late husband?”
“How is that important?” Boris questions.
“Just curious.” Bastien’s voice remains level.
Boris sighs, then leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Potter. I met him in college. He introduced me to Riley-”
“I’m sorry,” Bastien interrupts him. “Who is ‘Potter’?”
“The lovely Theodore Blaise.” Boris lets out a rueful chuckle. “You have not seen him in person? The idiot looks like Harry Potter. Stupid glasses, stupid hair.”
“Alright,” Bastien stops him again. “Continue. When did he introduce you to Riley?”
“New York. That one year. I was visiting before I had to go to... Switzerland? Sweden? One of the two. It was lifetime ago. Can’t remember everything.” He pauses to look around the room. “She was... with your King. We saw her in the park. Theo wanted to see her. We waited for the king to leave her before he went up to her hotel.”
Olivia knew that he was talking about the last night Riley had been with the court. But Boris was drawing out the conversation. She didn’t like how slow Bastien was approaching this. Olivia wanted to draw a knife — she had a new one she was itching to use — and force the answers out of him.
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Until the End - Prologue
A/N: also i made a thing for this series. it’s not a moodboard. idk what its called. like a banner or whatever? i felt creative and made it. i’ll probably end up making a moodboard too. there are three parts of the series, each part has seven/eight chapters. anyway this looks kinda wack i might not even use it
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As we near the stairs, Olivia Nevrakis chases after Maxwell Beaumont, who tumbles down the steps.
“Why are you running?!” Olivia cries after the boy, a long object in her hand.
“Because you have a stick!” he cries after almost tripping over his short, chubby legs.
“What am I gonna do, hit you with it?”
“YES?!” Maxwell screams, a confused and fearful tone in his voice.
As the two reach the bottom of the stairs, Liam emerges from another corridor, laughing after his friends. His hair is a whorl on his head, and his cheeks are flushed pink.
“Hello, Mother!” he says. My son hugs my waist, then reaches to hug his father, but Constantine has already walked on.
I take the boy’s hand and we follow after the King. Near the entrance of the palace stands a man in guard’s uniform, a woman in a denim dress, and two small children.
“Eleanor, Liam,” Constantine begins. “I would like for you two to be introduced to a new member of our security team. Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca, and their children, Drake and Savannah.”
“A pleasure, Your Majesties,” Jackson says as he and his wife bow respectfully. The little girl blinks up at me while Drake looks between Liam and I.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Liam!” My son holds out his hand to Drake.
Constantine audibly coughs. Liam’s hand falls to his side, and his smile falls as well. I knew that the differences in status would not allow Liam to interact with the boy so improperly, but they are just children. I didn’t think there was a reason for such excessive formality.
Bianca slightly nudges her son. In a monotone voice, Drake greets, “Nice to meet you, Prince Liam.”
Liam’s expression lifts. I send a smile in Bianca’s direction, and she hesitantly returns it. Jackson holds eye contact with me a moment longer, a wide grin stretching his face.
Constantine grabs our attention again. “Jackson, you will be primarily working on my wife’s security team. Now if you’ll excuse us, we are expected at dinner. My head of security, Bastien, will lead you through the rest of your orientation. After dinner, you’ll be able to speak to my wife and receive any orders she has for you.”
“Yes, Sire,” Jackson bows his head again, and Constantine leads us away.
Godfrey and his family, along with the Beaumonts, Olivia, and Leo are already seated. They all stand quickly as Constantine comes into the room, giving polite bows.  
The moment we sit, there’s a flurry of activity as the servants set our plates in front of us. Adelaide sips on her wine absently. Annabelle fusses over Maxwell, who has cookie crumbs on his fingers and face. Madeleine attempts to get Leo’s attention, but he laughs with Bertrand, the boys giving each other impish smiles. Olivia converses with Liam, taking on a gentle demeanor compared to how she behaved with Maxwell.
“Hostilities between Monterisso and Auvernal are increasing by the day,” I hear Godfrey mention to Constantine.
“The whole of Europe expects them to break out in war,” Barthelemy adds.
“Monterissian and Auvernese citizens anticipate some sort of peace treaty,” Godfrey continues. The men speak as if they are one unit, with one mind. “But other nations have already begun taking sides.”
“The King of Hidar is siding with Monterisso.” Barthelemy motions for a servant to bring him more wine. “But there are rumors that he is only doing so after receiving threats.”
“Most nations are waiting for Cordonia and Monaco for their decisions for who to ally with.”
When Barthelemy and Godfrey finish filling Constantine’s ears, they return to the food on their plates, staring down as if nothing else in the world concerned them. Constantine chews slowly, visibly considering their words.
“Monterisso has always kept a neutral face when it comes to Cordonian issues,” the King mentions. “They have never asked or hinted towards alliance. They are not many nations who ally with them at all.”
“So you must admit,” Barthelemy finishes chewing, “that allying with them instead of Auvernal makes a bad impression—”
“—and reduces the chance of alliances with other nations,” Godfrey finishes with him.
“How so?” I speak up. The three men turn their heads to look at me. No one else at the table pays attention to the conversation, but as their eyes burn in my direction — aggressive looks from the Dukes, while my husband raises an eyebrow at me — I want to take back my words.
But I do no such thing. After more than seven years of marriage, I had become accustomed to Godfrey and Barthelmey shutting down the advice I gave to my husband. This instance is no different.
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The Lion and the Heir - short series - Prologue
A/N: just as a heads up, i laughed while writing this. like i wrote this just for a good laugh and wanted to share. my friend sent me a writing prompt about a kid’s wild imagination and she thought it was funny and sent it to me (i sent her this same passage and we both laughed our heads off reading parts of it) so what i’m trying to say is that thinking this is terrible and cringe-worthy is understandable - i cringed at this myself and am very scared to post this lol, and might not even continue it. yes i made a moodboard thing. yes i laughed while making it. goodbye.
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"Is everything well, Mommy?" I ask. Instead of answering me, again she attempts to silence me! I repeat my question, but this time the man tells me to silent myself.
Did they not know who they were speaking to? Perhaps I was interrupting something. Was there a lesson to be learned somewhere in this? I wish that Daddy were present at this meeting. Though most of his explanations were gibberish, he would at least attempt to make me understand.
The man walks towards me. He reaches his hands out to carry me, but I do not know this man! And he was quite stinky! I do not like him. I smack his hands away, and he takes a step back.
"With all due respect," I try to explain to him, "please introduce yourself before any forward actions. They are most unwelcoming. Your Princess does not appreciate this behavior."
He turns to my suspicious mother and says something in gibberish. I frown, for the language barrier does not mean that my subjects may disobey my wishes in such a manner!
Suspicious Mommy takes off the shield that was over her eyes. I find that it is NOT Mommy! Though they look similar, their differences are too contrasting. This woman's eyes were a tad sharper. She was too aware of me, and did not seem comfortable in my presence.
"Shhh sh shhh," she goes again, trying to pick me up, but I allow my short legs to fall from under me. My behind hits the mattress, and I feel my friend, General Lion, against my hand.
"Is everything well, Your Highness?" my trusty General says to me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service?"
"Dismiss this woman from my presence!" I command him.
"But... but that is Mommy!" he cries.
This woman was good in her disguise. She had fooled my trusted advisor!
"Believe me, General, it is not!" I tell him. "She has fooled us!"
"And she is trying to take you away?" he observes.
"Yes!" I am suddenly aware of what is happening. The woman begins to reach for me. "Quick!" I say, panic swelling in my chest. I had to do something about this, but all my heart is telling me to do is cry! I have to take more serious measures than that! "What am I to do?"
"Uh... uh..." General Lion looks around the crib, before he reaches out to me. "Take a hold of my paw!"
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putting my Aftermath taglist because that’s the only one i have :) - y’all can see what’s happening in the next chapter & these other fics. if you’re interested in any (besides Aftermath) let me know! if you don’t interact or anything, i’ll leave you on the Aftermath taglist and won’t remove or add you anywhere :)
(also, people probably know this but just a gentle reminder, the only reason i don’t reply to comments is because this is a sideblog. i see them all though, so don’t worry. i just don’t want to confuse people by replying from my main blog or anything :) anyway let me stop trailing off)
@captain-kingliamsqueen​ @gkittylove99​ @lovablegranny​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful​ @mom2000aggie​ @kingliam2019​ @queenrileyrose​ @shanzay44​ @cordonianroyalty​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @twinkle-320​ @amandablink​ @texaskitten30​ @pens-girl-87​ @ladyangel70​ @sanchita012​ @cordonianprincess​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @pink-diamond13​ @queenwalton​​ @yourmajesty09​ @alj4890​​ @choicesbutterfly​​​ 
^if anyone from this list wants to do the WIP Wednesday thing, feel free!!
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rein-ette · 3 years
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16, 18, 20?
16: Do you stick to canon when you write characters and fics?
I use canon when it's convenient for me, but honestly at this point I don't even know if the version of "canon" stored in my brain bears much resemblance to actually canon. I mean, what is canon in the first place? The word canon refers definitive spiritual texts, but when has any spiritual text ever produced only one (1) definitive interpretation? I digress -- the point is I do what I want lol.
18: Do you feel like your work gets enough recognition? What kind of feedback do you like to receive?
Ooooh boy. Uh. Yes and no? Like, do I think my work gets enough recognition for the quality and topics it addresses? Yeah, for sure. I mean, I write for pretty niche rarepairs so I don't expect the entire fandom to read, but I still get comments from people who I consider the OG gods of that rarepair, which blows my little f*in mind. Like, what. O.o But is that enough for my little rat brain, hoarding praises and compliments in some dark and dank corner of my soul? Nope, but luckily the rat brain doesn't call the shots around here. I know I need to be patient and that I should write for me and not for validation, so while I'm not 100% there yet I'm trying my best to maintain a good mentality towards recognition!
As for feedback, obviously I appreciate likes, but reblogs are the most helpful, like, distribution wise, and most people reblog with like loads of comments so those make me extra happy. And I really like it when people have convos with me in the comments about the characters and would love to do that more, because at the end of the day, aren't we all here to talk about and share our love for these trash children?
20: Which fic have you put the most work into? Which fic have you put the least work into?
Effort per word wise, probably my very first fic posted here, The Dark World is Not Far From Us. It was the first Port I ever wrote, and is set in the time period that's the closest to my heart. But it's short, so I think I've now actually spent much longer on fics like Iacta Alea Est and the 5 times engport's died series, etc. Least effort is probably that WW2 engbel drabble I wrote, haha. I spent maybe 15 minutes on it, but it's actually become one of my favourites now.
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corisanna · 4 years
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Reposting an ask because Tumblr broke it and won’t let me edit.
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Hmmmmmmmmmm.
I do think it declined, but not to the extent that it definitely should have ended after Aizen. That would have been a neat/clean ending, yeah, but the rest was salvageable imo. It was a matter of narrative choices. And I sympathize with Kubo for part of why they probably happened.
My thoughts on the later part of the Bleach manga always starts with thoughts on the IRL situation the author dealt with. That is always crucial to the product they put out and I do not want this to be a criticism of Kubo himself. So this will be in two parts. Also, it’s been awhile since I read the manga.
Author
The first thing to keep in mind is that Kubo continued (was pressured?) to keep writing despite multiple bouts of pneumonia or other illness with only short breaks. I remember the unexpected hiatuses of weeks or I think even a couple months at one point as chapters came out. It was like eight years ago, though. I’m having trouble finding undeleted sources about them. Example of one I found:
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I write trash when I’m very sick. If I do write while sick, I do not share it until I can edit it while well. I got the impression at the time that Kubo was not afforded that opportunity. And I’ve only read parts of one of the after-manga novel Can’t Fear Your Own World, but it seems to me that he had a lot of the underpinnings to strengthen the story in his head and couldn’t get them out earlier. It’s what happens to me when sick, anyway. And also if I’m having general burnout.
A second problem is the pressure of deadlines. You know how fanfic authors often have irregular periods of time between posting because they have had interference from Real Life or they have writer’s block or they just aren’t happy with what they’ve written yet? That is a luxury of not being paid/contracted to write. Being able to tinker and tinker and tinker until you’re at least satisfied with what you’ve created is a luxury in serial writing. I’m currently sitting on a “complete” chapter of my fic in case I need to hop back and tweak it based on what the next chapter does because it’s an important point in the plot and I don’t want to break continuity. And I really am jumping back to change things. A couple years ago, I sat on like three complete chapters for similar reasons. Manga writers with deadlines do not have that luxury. If I had biweekly deadlines, I’d be posting continuity-breaking trash with terrible dialogue.  Hell, back in November I replaced every chapter of my big 400k word fic  with edited versions that strengthened character development and plot  underpinnings.    “Idk idk let’s throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks” is something both fic and manga writers do, but manga authors with tight deadlines don’t get to double back and pick stuff out.  
So. That said, here are my total amateur, in-no-way-an-authority, just-what-I-would-do-in-fanfiction  thoughts on the story:
Story
Ichigo in denial of struggling with powerlessness while trying to move on was good. Xcution was interesting, though it could have used more explanation that apparently came out in a novel after the end of the series. I think we should have heard more about Xcution’s motives in-story and how Ginjo became a substitute shinigami. Just... a more solid framework.
TYBW was a mess. It’s been awhile since I read it, though, so my memory of a lot of fights is blurry. IIRC, one of the problems was good guys explaining their damn powers to the enemy instead of having them do an internal monologue for the readers. Too many enemies were given ridiculous powers that required deus ex machina to defeat or had missed opportunities to be resolved otherwise with use of other characters.
Take Giselle for example. Once she took control of Toshiro, that could have opened up a horrified rage for Momo, who grew up with him. Giselle’s power of spilling her blood on someone leading to body puppetry made cutting her with a sword a Very Bad Idea. But Momo’s zanpakuto had been shown as having fire powers that she could integrate with kido. She could have fought Giselle without spilling her blood or cut her with her shikai, sword wreathed in flame to instantly cauterize the wounds and avoid spilling blood. That might also prevent Giselle from reassembling herself. This could be after or during fighting Toshiro. The whole battle would invert the protective fury dynamic between Toshiro and Momo and be an opportunity to show Momo’s post-Aizen growth, especially if she was double-teaming with her new captain. Perhaps Shinji could keep zombie!Toshiro occupied with his disorienting shikai on top of sword fighting so Momo could use her fire on Giselle. It also could have drawn minor attention to the two shinigami who had grown up together somehow getting opposing powers-- fire and ice-- and having to fight each other. Something could have been made of that. It was a missed opportunity for character development and showing another female character be strong instead of implying it.
The Soul King and YWCH stuff was a confusing mess to me. Too much wasn’t explained. As I said, it has been awhile, but I remember being in a state of “LOL idk what is happening here” for most King’s Realm chapters. It probably didn’t help that I read it as it came out, with weeks in between chapters. I should re-read it. Or just watch the upcoming anime and hope for clarification.
I think it suffered from what I struggle with sometimes: thinking that because I have been thinking about and planning something intensely, I already wrote it. I just had to make two connected edits to my already-posted fic chapters this past week because I discovered I had left out a key line of dialogue when I went back to quote it and it wasn’t there. But once a chapter of manga is published, it’s hard to take it back. Maybe in the collected volume-- I know of at least one manga that redrew several objects that the artist broke continuity with-- but a lot of people only read it as it comes out.
In conclusion: The basis for a strong, compelling continuation post-Aizen was there, but suffered from external problems like illness and deadlines. IMO it just needs some tinkering to clean it up.
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naromoreau · 5 years
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From the writing prompts. ‘ sit still and let me take a look! ’ For your choice!
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Thank you so much for this! This one is my first John Seed/ F!Dep ficlet that turned out into idk what seriously. lol 
Thank you so much to @seedsplease for allow me to use her OC, Levi the peggie in this fic! ____________________________________________
It’d been a bad idea now that she ran her train of thoughts backwards. Attacking Seed Ranch under the moonlight, half-wasted and maybe a bit bliss-highed, under the blurry daydream that everything was just an extension of her Metal Gear Solid campaign was stupid. And it wasn’t even a pivotal stratagem because as far as she knew, the younger Seedling was still tucked away in his harrowing dungeon at the Bunker.
But she needed to prove a point. To herself. She needed to know she wasn’t afraid of coming back and jump head first into the free-for-all clusterfuck in Hope County. She unconsciously dragged her fingertips over her scarred chest while memories of her close encounter with the self proclaimed Baptist harred through her mind. No, she wasn’t afraid of John. But fuck, the injury still hurt her pride. And she’ll well damn return the favor, snatching his own house from under his very nose.
In a haze, her hand closed around the trigger of her sniper rifle and aimed. If only her targets would stop wobbling. Really, drinking while working. These peggies had no shame. She took the shot, but the bullet collided against a flammable cylinder next to the porch, exploding in a magnificent fire Sharky would definitely have approved.
“Oops.”
The flames licked the balustrade, now spreading to the stairs and she revelled with a devilish grin in the bewilderment and panic painted in the faces of the peggies.
“Put that fire down, and someone explain to me how this happened!” A man in a leather trench coat, probably the one in charge, moved hurriedly among the crowd that had gone haywire. “Brother John is going to be furious!”
She stifled a laugh biting the flap of her flannel, and adjusted her scope, drawing a bead on yet another red cylinder. Unfortunately the alcohol had damped her reflexes significantly and she tripped with the root of a nearby tree.
“You hear that?” A nearby man, dressed in the unfashionable peggie-mayonnaise craned his neck to where she was hiding, and slowly trod in her direction.
Oh fuck. She drew her pistol and turnt up as she was her shots missed the peggie’s head by good five inches hitting him in the shoulder. Mayhem unleashed at the first blast throwing to the trash bin her stealthy maneuvers.
“Sinners!”
The outside of the house crawled within seconds with a heavily armed crew, as bullets snickered in the air, rippling the silence around her. She rolled to a side, as her previous spot was soon overrun by overzealous goons looking for her blindly. She took one, two, three guards down, before dodging enemy gazes behind a bush at the very front of the house, choking with the smell of gunsmoke.
“There! Behind those bushes!”
Shit was getting problematic. Her attention snapped at the shouted words, her ears ringing by the bullets landing closer and closer to her, and before she could veer off course, two projectiles shredded the skin of her arm and abdomen.
She yelped loudly. It hurt like a motherfucker.
“Stop the fire!”
She paled to her lips. Damn. She knew that voice; that cloying tone still sending shivers down her spine. Fighting through the agonizing pain, she lifted her eyes and her ragged breath caught in her throat. Apparently her intel was wrong. Fucking Dutch. John Seed stood at the threshold, slowly descending the partly charred stairs with that smug walk of his that she found equally magnetizing and loathsome.
Everyone froze in place as he closed the distance to where she was hunched down, soaked in her own blood, drawing breath after breath to quell her…fear?
“Take her inside,” he said signaling to a burly man that stood with his head bowed next to him. The darkness and the loss of blood made everything seem bleary, so she wasn’t sure if his words really carried streaks of concern or was just her heart thundering in her ears. His blue eyes could’ve carved her soul, etching deeper than his needle.
“Fuck off John. I rather take a bullet to the head than spent a minute with you alone, again.” She hawked blood and saliva at his feet, glaring at him. She knew it was futile, like the pathetic little roars of a kitten trapped in a dark alley.
A gamut of emotions flickered on his face and she could’ve sworn pain waved back at her for a fleeting second, before disappearing behind a self-satisfied grin.
“Don’t tempt me my dear.”
She huffed and kicked hopelessly when his subordinate carried her bridal style into the house but her legs felt shaky and weak, and the effort puffed all the air out of her lungs. She shot a final glance behind her where another peggie picked up her forgotten rifle and pistol, dragging them away from her. She grunted.
Once they were inside, she chewed down a malicious comment. So much for humbleness. John Seed’s Ranch was lush and elegant, looking more like a luxurious lodge than a battle post.
“Put her in the couch,” John said standing at the center of the living room.
She untangled her arms of the unfairly broad shoulders of the peggie as he placed her down carefully. He gave her a final mistrustful gaze, and stood next to the door.
“Should I post guards at the door, Brother John?”
John fidgeted with a pocket knife before closing it, placing it on the coffee table, a lopsided grin tugging his lips. “No, Levi. She’s barely a threat at this point.”
His comment lit the fire in her blood. “Maybe you should listen to Levi, John.” She cocked an eyebrow, stomping down a wince, as her side and arm throbbed in pain.
“Leave us,” John said to the peggie, ignoring her completely.
Her heart was thumping so hard, she could feel it under every inch of her skin, whatever amount of blood left in her system pooling in her cheeks.
“Relax my dear,” he said sauntering towards her, his boots tapping against the wooden floor as the tickle of a doomsday clock, drawing closer and closer. “I’m not going to hurt you, trust me.” He sat at the edge of the couch, face relaxed and attentive.
“Ah- kinda hard to believe man,” she said, brows furrowed, trying to scoot backwards and away from him, “last time you were very determined to do some very hard damage.”
John drew a hand forward, as if he intended to touch her and she shivered. He heaved a sigh, pulling back. “I think you need medical attention first, Deputy.”
“Yeah, so ah- could you let me go?” she asked as he stood up, fumbling between the things of a near cabinet.
“So you can bleed out on your way to wherever is you’re going?” His voice came muffled as he was half stuck into the mahogany furniture.
Sweat beads fell down her forehead, flyaway strands of hair sticking to her temples. “You said so yourself, I need medical attention,” she bit back, fighting back a grimace.
He made his way back to her, holding a first aid kit. Oh great.
“And that’s what you’re getting,” he said sitting again next to her. “Now sit still and let me take a look.”
He took gauze and clean cloth along with a peroxide bottle and some antiseptic gel out of the box. She bit her lower lip. There wasn’t much she could do in her position, and who was she to look the gift horse in the mouth. If he was offering his help, she could well accept it to ebb away the ache in her body. After all, she didn’t want to see wrath flooding him as she’d seen in the bunker.
So she held her arm in front of him.
“This is just a scrap, you’ll be fine,” he said brushing gently the red burned flesh, grabbing her wrist with a merciful grip, almost kind. Almost tender.
What the hell was going on?
“That’s a relief.” The irreality of the situation was kicking her in the gut. Only three weeks ago this same man had thrown her into hell, alive and breathing, searing in her mind memories too gruesome to forget.
“Now, darling, where is the other?” he said, throwing the bloodied cloth on a trash bin and preparing a new one.
She flushed beet red. Modesty wasn’t something she particularly enforced, especially not under duress but there was something about John that rattled her walls, whether she wanted to admit it or not. “Ah…”
“We don’t have all day my dear Deputy.” He looked at her with a tinge of exasperation.
Her breath was shallow but she managed to control it. “Okay, fine, fine, hold on.” She pulled off her torn shirt, placing it in the floor and twisted her upper body so he could see the wound at the side of her abdomen.
There was a slight delay in his answer she didn’t fail to notice. “It looks- uh, it looks nastier than the other one,” John said, flicking out his tongue in an unconscious gesture, barely grazing her skin with shaky fingers in a place Rook didn’t feel any pain at all.
“Uh, John?” she side eyed him, watching him struggle to keep his charming, nonchalant facade.
He inhaled deeply and the air let out his lungs in a short blow. “I’m sorry my dear, I’ll clean this right away.”
He started working on her skin with the precision of a surgeon, shushing her when the pain of the chemics burned her skin and she cried out.
“Can I ask you something?” She said with a low moan as the pain began to subside, her head buried in her arms, as he kept working.
“I doubt a ‘no’ would deter you of doing so, darling.” He shot her a sincere smile and something tumbled in her stomach.
Pathetic.
“Am I leaving your Ranch in a coffin?” she spluttered, brushing aside the flurry of emotions galloping inside her.
“Don’t be absurd. If I wanted you dead I would’ve done so before you torched half my property and killed half my guards,” he said casually, as he spread the gauze, dressing her wound. “No, Deputy. I don’t want you dead. I want  you saved.”
And there he was again. The John she knew, but severely toned down, the maniacal edges that flickered to life during their last encounter, subdued.
“Thanks?” She offered. “I don’t understand, last time was so-”
“Rough?” He cut her off, chuckling. “I know, and I should apologize.”
Her face shifted from curiosity to certified wariness. “Excuse me?”
He finished his handiwork and leveled his gaze with hers. Christ in Heaven, those blue eyes. Sometimes cold as lakes in the winter, yet other times filled with warm, sparkling life as it was the case right now.
“After you left, Joseph spoke to me, and he, eh, he showed me my ways were wrong, that I wouldn’t get what I–,” he stopped and cleared his throat, “what the Project wants from you out of fear.”
“And what’s that?”
“That you truly accept us in your heart.”
A clear laughter rang in her ears. Her own laughter. The sound so unfamiliar, it cracked a shudder on her body.
“And how do you intend to do that?,” she asked, certainly curious.
He stood up and placed the first aid kit away and her body complained silently and unwittingly for his absence. “I want to show you that pain is not the only thing I–,” he sighed, shaking his head, “that we can offer you. I want to show you that is love what opens the Gates, and you should embrace it.”
Her mouth had gone dry, and she was barely able to resist as John came back and effortlessly swooped her in his arms. Solid, muscular arms, that lifted her as if she was light as a feather. The minty spice of his scent flared up her nose, eliciting a sigh she was determined to attribute to her dog-tired state. This wasn’t happening. Maybe she was stuck in one of Faith’s fucking Bliss crops, dozing off and any minute now Sharky was going to wake her up setting her on fire by accident. As a hundred times before.
He carried her up the stairs to an empty room with a full size bed, and placed her on top.
“This will be your home for a while,” he said sitting next to her and tucking auburn strands of hair behind her ears and everything she could do was look at him, astonished and rattled. “Don’t think about leaving, my darling, because everything you need is here.”
He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and walked away. As she saw him disappearing from her sight the thought that haunted her the most was that to her dismay, leaving, was the last thing on her mind.  
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vinylexams · 4 years
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A very special fireside interview with XUXA SANTAMARIA
Check Insta for our thoughts on this landmark album from Oakland duo XUXA SANTAMARIA. Stay right where you are to read a really fun interview I scored with the band this week. They’ve just released Chancletas D’Oro on Ratskin Records out of Oakland and Michael blessed me with my very own copy. It was so good I knew I needed to tell you all about it and I wanted to pick their brains a little bit, too. Without further ado, please enjoy:
//INTERVIEW
You’re still breaking into indie world at large, but you’ve already got a huge following back in California and your home-base in Oakland. What has it been like to be featured in major outlets like The Fader?
SC: We are a funny project; we ebb and flow from being total hermits to having periods of relatively high visibility (relative to aforementioned hermit state). I wouldn’t say we have a huuuge following in CA but I do think that the ‘fandom’ we’ve developed here is really genuine because we don’t play shows out of an obligation to remain visible but instead do so because we feel super passionate about the work and the audience and I think people respond to that energy. I for one, and perhaps this is because of my background in performance, have a hard time performing the same stuff over and over without change which accounts for us being selective with our playing live. That’s also why videos are such an important part of what we’re about. The piece in The Fader was important to the launch of this album because it established some of the themes and, to an extent, the aesthetics of this album in a way that can be experienced outside of a live setting. None of this is to say we don’t like playing live, in fact we love it, we just like to make our sets pleasurable to ourselves and to our audience by constantly reworking it. We strike a weird balance for sure but we’ve made peace with it. If we ever ‘make it’ (lol) it’ll be on these terms.
Chancletas D'Oro is a pretty incredible record and while it reminds me of a few bands here or there, it’s got a really fresh and unique style that merges dance with all sorts of flavors. How would you describe your music to someone who is curious to listen?
MGK: Haha, we generally struggle to describe our music in a short, neat way (not because we make some kind of impossible-to-categorize music, but just because it’s the synthesis of a ton of different influences and it’s hard for US to perceive clearly). But with that caveat in mind - IDK, bilingual art-punk influenced dance/electronic music?
SC: Thank you for saying so, we’re pretty into it :) Like Matt says, we struggle to pin it down which I think is in part to what he says – our particular taste being all over the place, from Drexciya to The Kinks to Hector Lavoe- but I think this slipperiness has a relationship to our concept making and world building. As creative people we make and intake culture like sharks, always moving, never staying in one place too long. Maybe it’s because we’re both so severely ADHD (a boon in this instance tbh) that we don’t sit still in terms of what we consume and I think naturally that results in an output that is similarly traveling. Point is, the instance a set of words - ‘electronic’, ‘dance’, ‘punk’- feel right for the music is the same instance they are not sufficient. I propose something like: the sound of a rainforest on the edge of a city, breathy but bombastic, music made by machines to dance to, pleasurably, while also feeling some of the sensual pathos of late capitalism as seen from the bottom of the hill.
The internet tells me you’ve been making music as Xuxa Santamaria for a decade now. What has the evolution and development of your songwriting been like over those ten years?
MGK: Well, when we first started out as a band we were so new to making electronic music (Sofia’s background was in the art world and mine was in more guitar-based ‘indie rock’ I guess - lots of smoking weed and making 4 track tapes haha), so we legit forgot to put bass parts on like half the songs on our first album LOL. We’ve learned a lot since then! But in seriousness, we’ve definitely gotten better at bouncing ideas back and forth, at putting in a ton of different parts and then pulling stuff back, and the process is really dynamic and entertaining for both of us.
SC: This project started out somewhat unusually: I was in graduate school and beginning what would become a performance practice. I had hit a creative roadblock working with photography - the medium I was in school to develop- and after reading Frank Kogan’s Real Punks Don’t Wear Black felt this urge to make music as a document of experience following Kogan’s excellent essay on how punk and disco served as spatial receptacles for a wealth of experiences not present in the mainstream of the time. I extrapolated from this notion the idea that popular dance genres like Salsa, early Hip Hop, and Latin Freestyle among many others, had served a similar purpose for protagonists of a myriad Caribbean diasporas. These genres in turn served as sonic spaces to record, even if indirectly, the lived experiences of the coming and going from one’s native island to the mainland US wherein new colonial identities are placed upon you. From this I decided to create an alter ego (ChuCha Santamaria, where our band name originally stems from) to narrate a fantastical version of the history of Puerto Rico post 1492 via dance music. We had absolutely no idea what we were doing but I look back on that album (ChuCha Santamaria y Usted - on vinyl from Young Cubs Records) fondly. It’s rough and strange and we’ve come so far from that sound but it’s a key part of our trajectory. Though my songwriting has evolved to move beyond the subjective scope of this first album - I want to be more inclusive of other marginalized spaces- , it was key that we cut our teeth making it. We are proud to be in the grand tradition of making an album with limited resources and no experience :P
We’re a big community of vinyl enthusiasts and record collectors so first and foremost, thanks for making this available on vinyl. What does the vinyl medium mean to you as individuals and/or as a band?
MGK: I think for us, it’s the combination of the following: A. The experience of listening in a more considered way, a side at a time. B. Tons of real estate for graphics and design and details. C. The sound, duh!
SC: In addition to Matt’s list, I would just say that I approach making an album that will exist in record form as though we were honing a talisman. Its objecthood is very important. It contains a lot of possibility and energy meant to zap you the moment you see it/ hold it. I imagine the encounter with it as having a sequence: first, the graphics - given ample space unlike any other musical medium/substrate- begin to tell a story, vaguely at first. Then, the experience of the music being segmented into Side A and Side B dictate a use of time that is impervious to - at the risk of sounding like an oldie - our contemporary habit of hitting ‘shuffle’ or ‘skip’. Sequencing is thus super important to us (this album has very distinct dynamics at play between sides a/b ). We rarely work outside of a concept so while I take no issue with the current mode of music dissemination, that of prioritizing singles, it doesn’t really work for how we write music.
MGK: We definitely both remain in love with the ‘album as art object/cohesive work’ ideal, so I would say definitely - we care a lot about track sequencing, always think in terms of “Side A/Side B” (each one should be a distinct experience), and details like album art/inserts/LP labels etc matter a lot to us.
What records or albums were most important to you growing up? Which ones do you feel influenced your music the most?
SC: I know they’re canceled cus of that one guy but I listened to Ace of Base’s The Sign a lot as a kid and I think that sorta stuff has a way of sticking with you. I always point to the slippery role language plays in them being a Swedish band singing in English being consumed by a not-yet-English speaking Sofía in Puerto Rico in the mid 90s. Other influences from childhood include Garbage, Spice Girls, Brandy + Monica’s The Boy is Mine, Aaliyah, Gloria Trevi, Olga Tañon etc etc. In terms of who influences me now, that’s a moving target but I’d say for this album I thought a lot about the sound and style of Kate Bush, Technotronic, Black Box, Steely Dan, ‘Ray of Light’-era Madonna plus a million things I’m forgetting.
MGK: Idk, probably a mix of 70-80s art rock/punk/postpunk (Stooges, Roxy Music, John Cale, Eno, Kate Bush, Talking Heads, Wire, Buzzcocks, etc etc), disco/post-disco R&B and dance music (Prince, George Clinton, Chic, Kid Creole), 90s pop + R&B + hip hop (Missy & Timbaland, Outkast/Dungeon Family production-wise are obviously awe-inspiring, So So Def comps, Jock Jams comps, Garbage & Hole & Massive Attack & so on), and unloved pop trash of all eras and styles.
Do you have any “white whale” records that you’ve yet to find?
MGK: Ha - the truth is that we’re both much more of a “what weird shit that we’ve never heard of can we find in the bargain bin” type of record buyer than “I have a custom list of $50 plus records on my discogs account that I lust over”.
SC: Not really, I’m wary of collectorship. That sort of ownership might have an appeal in the hunt, once you have it do you really use it, enjoy it? Funnily, I have a massive collection of salsa records that has entries a lot of music nerds would cry over (though they’re far from good condition, the spines were destroyed by my Abuela’s cat, Misita lol, but some are first pressings in small runs). For me its value however, comes from its link to family, as documents from another time and as an amazing capsule of some of the best music out of the Caribbean. I’m glad I am their guardian (a lot of this stuff is hard to find elsewhere, even digitally) but I live with those records, they’re not hidden away in archival sleeves, in fact, I use some of that music in my other work. Other than that, the records I covet are either those of friends or copies of albums that hold significance but which are likely readily available, Kate Bush’s The Dreaming or Love’s Forever Changes, or The Byrds Sweetheart of The Rodeo as random examples
Finally, is there a piece of interesting band trivia you’ve never shared in another interview?
SC: haha, not really? Maybe that we just had a baby together?
//
Congrats on your new baby, and also for this wonderful new album. It was a pleasure chatting with you and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you and your music!
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11/11/11 tag!
I was tagged by @liesversusjournals and @softwishesx​ so I’ll answer both sets of questions in this post! :)
1. Are you a pantser or plotter?
A pantser! Tho I do a lot of planning lol! My notes doc for REWIRED is 60k words long what why she a whole novel.
2. Do you write using a computer or pen and paper?
A computer!
3. How much writing do you get done on an average day?
Honestly because of school the average lately has been 0/day lol, but if we subtract school, on a good day I used to average about 1-1.5k! On days where I’m struggling I usually get in from 500-700. I haven’t had a consistent enough writing schedule in the last 2 years to calculate this though!
4. Which present work(s) are you the most proud of?
I’m really proud of a few chapters of REWIRED like chapter 9 (Girl), chapter 17 (Julian-Julius), chapter 22 (Younger), and chapter 23 (Bad Habits). I’m also pretty proud of my newest short story Water Burials For the Living. 
5. Which past work(s) are you the most proud of?
I’m honestly really proud of FOSTERED. Even though technically it isn’t very strong, I don’t think I’ve ever been as passionate writing as I was when I first drafted that book. I also am really proud of I’M DISAPPOINTED! I wrote 10 drafts of that baby and think it was pivotal in improving my writing! Book three of FOSTERED also has TEA so I must also include her. 
6. Which present work(s) are you the least proud of?
lols overall I definitely think FOSTERED 5 suuuuuuucks. I think the writing is so... strange? I was definitely making a transition from point a to b and it shows in that book. Tho it isn’t super recent (2016/17 I believe!). 
7. Which past work(s) are you the least proud of?
oml anything that follows the ‘i’m not like other girls’ plot ohhhhh godddddd.
8. Which books/authors have influenced you the most?
When I first started writing, Marie Lu’s Legend trilogy, Alexandra Bracken’s The Darkest Minds trilogy, Teri Terry’s Slated trilogy, and The Host by Stephenie Meyer were so important in shaping my work! Recently tho writers like Eliza Robertson, Emma Cline, and Emily Fridlund have been super influential. Also my mom @shaelinwrites​!! Would be v bad at writing if it weren’t for her!!
9. Describe your writing process from when you get the idea to when it’s polished.
Oh boy I don’t think I’ve ever polished something but:
The idea! Usually don’t get many of those so I cling to ‘em like ain’t nobody’s watching
She write (this usually takes 1000x longer than it should ha)
I usually edit as I go, so I loop back to previous chapters to clean stuff up before progressing too far. This is super helpful as a pantser to help me keep my facts straight 
The draft is done!
Developmental edits ensue (I’ve only done developmental edits once but in the past I made a list of things I needed to fix based on character, plot, foreshadowing etc etc)
Line edits + more line edits
10. How many drafts do you write until you feel you’re satisfied with a project?
Honestly I haven’t written multiple drafts of a book since I’M DISAPPOINTED, haha, but if I finish a project, I usually feel pretty okay with it? I don’t have to make tons of tweaks to feel satisfied especially if I’ve been writing it for a few months!
11. If you could re-visit and write in any shelved project, which one would it be and why?
I’M DISAPPOINTED! I actually want to re-write this book so badly but I lowkey forgot how to write YA, so I’d def have to read more of that before even attempting to dive back into that book. I’ve recently gotten some ideas of how to revamp the story (IMO in the way it should have been written) though I doubt this will actually happen!
The next set of questions come from @softwishesx!​
1. What’s your favourite stage of the writing process?
Drafting!
2. What’s your least favourite stage of the writing process?
Developmental edits and sometimes line edits when I don’t know where to start. 
3. What would say is your greatest strength as a writer?
I think I’m pretty good at description/picking out interesting details, maybe just imagery in general?
4. What would say is your greatest weakness as a writer?
Ha clarity lol nothing makes sense in this house!
5. What have you learned about your writing in the last year?
It’s very changeable (no need to stick to just one thing at one time). 
6. Is writing full time something you would like to do or is it more of just a side-hobby?
At this point in my life I don’t think I could write full-time (my organizational skills are v/ poor) but this idea is something I’ve toyed with for sure!
7. Would you ever write a semi-autobiographical book? If so, would you reveal that it is semi-autobiographical?
Probably not! I think there are many lives much more interesting than mine to write about. 
8. What’s your ‘I have to write in this otherwise everything is trash’ font?
I used to draft in Times New Roman but I think high school English essays have scarred me, so I really stan Garamond lol. 
9. Do you read books similar to your WIP for inspiration while drafting?
I don’t read as much as I’d like to, but if I did, I feel like this is something I would do? At least for tone!
10. How many people in your real life know that you’re a writer?
Everyone!
11. What’s one of the best lines you’ve ever written?
Oooh, I don’t think I have a best line, but here are some that I do like:
From chapter 23 (Bad Habits) of REWIRED:
I wanted to bewitch him, and make him admit I wasn’t the performer of black magic, but the magic itself. 
This is the only line that makes me want to keep writing this story (from Music for Poltergeists):
The jitter of taxis bleeds through the shutters and makes patterns on the ceiling. Lois would say, Baby, it’s the Northern Lights.
This is dialogue from the new book (book 7 of fostered which I have yet to title drop on this blog)! Context: Reeve’s brother calls her after she goes MIA for a few months in a new city under a new identity to fill a roommate posting and she be like:  
“It’s an ad for a couch. You can’t both stay on the couch.”
Thank you for tagging me! :)
--Rachel
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cynicallystiles · 6 years
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Honest
Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.
Author: @cynicallystiles
Request: Anonymous: Song request: Honest by Shawn Mendes to Theo Raeken or Stefan Salvatore (if you write for either of them )
Warning: Angst, heartbreak, breakup, sadness, etc.
Notes: Welp, it’s finished. I’m not gonna lie, it’s probably straight trash but at least I got it finished! Song-based requests are apparently really hard for me. Anyways, enjoy anon! Requests are closed.
Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x Reader
Masterlist
Words: 1,767
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You're standing around the pool table at The Grill, a pool stick clutched in your hand as you support your weight with it. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you laughed at Matt missing a very easy shot. You shook your head playfully just as your phone buzzed in your back pocket.
Automatically, you retrieved it and smiled as you saw your boyfriend's name displayed across the screen. You quickly open up your texts to respond as Bonnie takes her turn to shoot.
Stefan: Hey, how's it going?
You: Pretty good, other than Matt dragging me down in this pool tournament lol
You shot off quickly before focusing back in on the game. But, less than a second later another text came through.
Stefan: Can you meet me down in the town square?
Your eyebrows furrowed as you read the message. The message was very vague and in a town like Mystic Falls, there's no such thing as good vague.
You: Now? The game isn't even over yet...
At that moment, cheers erupt around you and you look quizzically at the pool table. Only yours and Matt's balls were left. Apparently, while you weren't paying attention Bonnie had sunk all of her team's balls and then the eight ball.
You: Never mind...Bonnie is secretly a pool shark lol I'll be right there 😘
You politely excuse yourself from the next round and begin the short walk to the town square. Meanwhile, Stefan paces back and forth on the sidewalk waiting for you to arrive. He'd been struggling with this for a while now, and after the latest big bad in Mystic Falls, he came to the conclusion that it was the best thing for you.
He stopped in his place as his eyes landed on your happy face walking toward him. After making eye contact, you wave. He slowly waves back, swallowing the lump in his throat. On your way over, a few kids ride by on their bikes and say 'hi' to you. Stefan watches as your face lights up at the brief interaction.
You finally reach him and throw your arms around him in a fierce hug. He circles his arms around you instinctively as you breathe in his scent contentedly. Stefan is the first to release his arms and it causes a slight uneasiness in you. He's always the last one to let go.
Sticking your hands in your pockets, you clear your throat to get rid of the brief awkwardness of it. "So, why'd you want me to come down here? You could've joined us at The Grill, ya know," you chuckle lightly.
"I just wanted to talk to you for a moment-" he says weirdly before you interrupt him.
"Is it important? I promised I'd get back after one round. Matty's got no chance without me," you giggle, not sensing the seriousness in the air.
Suddenly, Stefan sits on a bench and nods his head for you to do the same. You immediately follow the upturn of your lips disappear into a straight line and worry is evident in the crease in between your brows.
"Is everything okay?" You question cautiously. He stays silent. "Stefan, you're scaring me a little..." you admit timidly.
He inhales deeply before huffing it out in a sigh. You notice that his eyes are trained on the sidewalk and the people passing by...and anywhere but you. "Y/n, there's no easy way to say this..."
"What happened?" You ask urgently as your mind wanders to the worst case scenarios. "Is Damon okay? Elena? Who died??"
He shakes his head, clearly struggling with delivering this news to you. To anyone else, it would've been obvious what kind of talk it was. But, it's not obvious to you. Why would it be? Everything was going great as far as you knew.
"We can't be together anymore, y/n..." he states, hurt lacing his voice.
For a moment you just look at him and blink. Then, you laugh. "That's very funny, Stefan. What'd you really have to tell me?" An incredulous smirk is on your lips as you wait for his real news.
His brows furrow and his eyes finally meet yours. A tiny string snaps somewhere inside you, but you refuse to believe it still. "Look, I meant everything I've ever said to you. About loving you, and wanting to be with you always," he continues with his mean prank.
"Stefan, cut it out," you warn with a playful tone laced in dread.
You see the glisten in his eyes and this is clearly hard for him to say. It should be hard, you thought to yourself. It should never be easy to joke around like this. Stefan knew it wouldn't be easy. But, he never expected you to be in full denial about it.
"Before you think it, none of this is because of you," he goes on and the joke is really not funny anymore. It's beginning to be very mean.
You shake your head. Any trace of a smile or playfulness is gone. Instead, denial is carved on your features. "This isn't funny anymore," you say sternly, trying to mask the waver in your voice.
"I know I'll probably regret this in like fifty years because I never wanted to hurt you," his voice is soft and weak as if it's on the verge of breaking. That just makes it all worse.
Your bottom lip trembles and your heart beats hard in your chest. "Stefan, stop."
His features contort in sadness and he bites his lip to keep his emotions under control. "I can't give you what you need-"
"I don't need anything but you, Stefan." You whisper, sliding closer on the bench as you grip his hand in both of yours.
He squeezes back sadly. "Y/n, I know you want kids. I can't give you that. We can't grow old together and make a family. You deserve all of that and I can't give it to you," he explains.
"Why are you doing this now?" You ask as your voice begins to sound as watery as the tears flowing down your wind-kissed cheeks.
He half-shrugs, "I'm just trying to be honest with you."
"Lie to me!" You beg desperately. "I don't have to have kids! You're all the family I need. We already have a family with our friends," you try to reason with him.
He lets out a jagged breath to compose himself. "Y/n, I'm so sorry-" he begins to apologize but you abruptly yank your hands from his and stand up. You begin walking back toward The Grill as you sadly mumble under your breath.
"This is all because of Caroline, isn't it?" You hadn't meant it as an actual question for him to answer. But, of course, his vampire hearing took it that way.
He quickly stands up and catches your elbow gently. "Hey. Will you just listen to me, please?" You inhale deeply to regain your composure and slowly turn around. You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow for him to continue. "This has nothing to do with Caroline. I swear, there is no one else, y/n."
You reflexively scoff. "God, Stefan. You are such a liar," you state angrily. The words just come pouring out of your mouth out of pure hurt. "Ya know, I bet you've lied about everything that has to do with this relationship." You shake your head and drop your hands to your sides in exasperation. Tears burn your eyes and warm your cheeks as they drip slowly.
"I meant everything, y/n. You were different," he pauses as his watery eyes search yours pleadingly. "...are different. You are still different and that's why I'm doing this. Can't you understand that?" His voice breaks as his tears escape and everything inside of you twists achingly.
Sniffling, you hug your arms to your abdomen for some kind of reassurance. "Why can't you just turn me?" You whisper brokenly.
"Y/n..." he smiles sadly and steps toward you. "You were never meant for this life. My life. You have to go to college and become a teacher like you've always dreamed. Settle down and have a family. You can't do that with me..." he explains as his hand cups your wet cheek and his thumb soothingly wipes away a new teardrop.
Your face scrunches up in sadness as you lean into his hand. "I love you, Stefan," you mumble with your garbled voice. He doesn't reply. He just pulls you into him for one last hug as he presses a lingering kiss in your hair. When you pull back, you connect your lips to his in a bittersweet kiss.
Stefan devotes every part of his memory to storing the feeling of your lips and the smell of your perfume. The sound of your heart beating irregularly from your sorrow, but also your love for him. He painstakingly remembers how your tongue tastes like coffee with far too much sugar and cream from The Grill. When he finally pulls away from you, he takes a mental picture of your wind-tangled hairs and how your tears make the color of your eyes shine.
You bite your bottom lip to keep the sobs at bay as you slowly untangle yourself from his embrace. Walking backward slowly, you try to do the same as he did. Remember everything about him. But, you're not like Stefan. You'll get old, and your memory will go no matter how much you try to cling to it. While he'll still be 17 and looking as beautiful as the first day you saw him. He'll still be looking as beautiful as he did in 1864 when he was still a human kid.
As Stefan watches your figure fade across the town square, he savors the lingering feeling of your lips on his. When you kissed it was like he was transported back to 1864 at the last moment he remembered what it felt like to be human. To love with your whole heart and no safety net of immortality. He wipes the tears from his face quickly and turns to leave.
With one last look over his shoulder at you, he finds you standing still just watching him leave. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from you and makes his way back to the Salvatore Manor with one prevalent thought in his head. This would be the moment that he regrets literally forever. And you would be the girl that he would love for literally eternity.
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Text
BITE ME!
CHPT.  3/??
read: 1 | 2 | 3 |
A/N: This chapter is way longer than the first two but this is, without a doubt the best chapter yet. So sit back and read all about betrayal and trust issues hahahahahahahaha...
mentions: big thanks to @edsrich for reading the first version of this chapter (i rewrote it lol) and just generally showing interest and being nice:)
also a little mention to @tobzier for showing interest, you may not think you’ve done anything but you actually encouraged me by showing that you liked my idea so thanks:)
description: The losers are only 15 when Derry changes forever. The scars from It are barely faded when the newest threat hits the small town, Zombies. Most adults start getting infected one-by-one leaving many kids to fend for themselves, including the losers club. When Beverly is attacked and bitten by her father she can’t help but think she’s a danger to the club, there’s no escaping yourself.
Pairings: reddie, stenbrough, benverly
!!!!!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!!!!: description of gore and lots of it (it’s a zombie apocalypse), a lot of angst, so many swears oh mY GOD
this chapter: trust issues and angst
And without further ado,
Enjoy :)))))
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“You’re hair is winter, fire january embers, my heart burns there too…”
“No not that!”
“Come on Ben think!”
“Ugh this is stupid!”
Beverly woke up with very little memories of what happened the night before, she didn’t even know what time or day it was. She slowly opened her green eyes to reveal a foggy vision starting to adjust. her headache rushed through her brain making her squint. Her stomach was in agony as she curled into a ball. It rumbled and made weird noises, she was hungry. She was so fucking hungry goddamnit.
She thrashed the covers away and used one hand to support her getting up by holding the end table, her other hand, of course, was clenching her stomach. Her legs were shaking bad and felt numb as they hit the floor with every small step. The feeling went from her feet up and caused a wave of exhaustion spread despite her sleeping more than usual.
“He- help…” her voice was raspy and broken. She attempted walking but she had to remain hunched over. This position allowed her to notice all the little things around the room. there was paper scattered along the floor and around the window they threw their trash out of. Along with that there were crayons and broken pencils, almost every typical writing utensil you could find. She didn’t have the time (or energy) to think about what that was all about and kept walking, very slowly.
she took off the giant coat that had been wrapped around her to reveal the bloodstained inside caused by her bloody clothes from the previous zombie wave. She was burning hot but once she took off the jacket she was cold, so she draped the coat over her shoulders without putting her arms through the sleeves. Her steps were slow and she swayed back and forth but she finally reached the door. Her shaking hand pulled the handle down and the door opened. She continued walking down the hallway.
“Bev, what the fucking hell?” Richie quickly finished the stairs and came to the girls side, “You look like complete shit!”
“Richie…” she said at a whisper, “I- I need food…”
“This is all because you’re fucking hungry?” he said surprised as she used his arm as a support beam, “What type of dreams are you having to make you this goddamn hungry?”
“Shut up…” he stomach felt like it was being stabbed and it made weird bubble noises.
“Bill! Get a plate of food!” He yelled. She squinted from hearing the loud noise and her ears started mildly ringing. He picked her up wedding style and carefully walked down stairs.
“Wuh-wuh-what’s wruh-wrong?” Bill said placing the plate on the table with stan resting his chin on his shoulder.
“Bev is starving? I’m not really sure what’s happening either to be honest,” Richie replied helping her in her seat. Eddie took a breath from his inhaler in shock of what he was seeing.
“Jesus Bev!” Stan said. She was gorging the beans as fast as she could with the small fork. The three boys stared at her with confusion that it made Mike confused when he entered the room.
“Um why are we all starting- the hell is she doing?”
She lifted her chin from her last bite and dabbed her napkin around her mouth, “Why is everyone staring?”
“Why? You were eating faster than any animal I’ve ever seen!” Mike said. She glared at him.
“I’m sorry i got hungry,”
“That’s seems like an understatement,” Stan said.
“Yeah that seems a little unhealthy,” Mike said.
“How many times do I have to say that I’m fine?” she got up with both hands on the table, “You don’t need to worry about everything that happens to me,”
“Buh-bev-“ Richie nudged him and gave him the “this won’t help anything so just stop talking” look and Bill nodded.
“I grabbed your guys’s backpacks while I was down there and two of the flashlights need new batteries- BEV!” Ben came from the basement and dropped everything in his hands to run over and hug her, “Holy shit I thought- well i didn’t know what to think!” Bev hugged back but needed to double take on what just happened.
“Uh.. Thanks ben,” she did the only thing she knew what to do when she liked someone and tried to ignore him and focus on something else before she made a fool of herself, “Are you guys going out to town?”
“We were planning on going to the convenience store on Woodblock street,” Mike said rolling up his map.
“Well then I guess I woke up just in time then,” she gave ben his coat back and hesitated but winked, “I’m not waiting up!” she grabbed her backpack hanging over a chair.
“Beverly you can’t be serious,” Stan said parting from Bill.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gave the sassiest look she could.
“Bev i don’t think this is the best idea,” Ben said holding his coat real tight.
“You legit just died, stuffed your face and now you want to fucking go on an adventure? You’re fucking high, dude,” Richie said looking to Eddie to see if he agreed, he didn’t look at him but he could tell he did.
“Look are we going or not?” Bev said tapping her foot.
“Leh-l-let’s just guh-guh-guh-go,” Bill said walking towards the door.
“Bill,” he looked back to see Stan with his hand on his shoulder and the rest of the boys. All of them were staring at him with mixed expressions: angry and confused.
“Big Bill you might want to rethink this,” Richie said leaning with one hand on the table.
“Yeah you’re going crazy,” Eddie said shaking what was left of his prescription (he’s been saving it up since the apocalypse even though he knew it was all bullshit).
“Luh-luh- look, Bev just guh-got a little sih-sih-sih-sick, she slept all day, o-o-obviously she was huh-hungry,” everyone knew they should follow Bill- he was their leader after all- but in the back of their minds they thought it was wrong. Stan especially was wondering why he kept defending her. Ben was thankful for it but he was worried about his crush, he had spent the whole time she was sleeping making a poem about her just in case something… bad happened.
“We’ll wuh-wuh-wait about a-an hour t-to prepare some muh-muh-more, than we’ll go,”
“Sounds like a plan,” Bev said and threw her backpack on the table top and ran upstairs.
“What the fuck is up with chick,” Richie said out of the silence.
Bev stared herself down in the mirror of her room. Her overalls were covered in blood as for her skin. Her hair was starting to grow out more and it was halfway down her neck. She felt weak. She felt scared. She didn’t feel like herself at all. She started pacing. The feeling of terror hadn’t crossed her this bad in two years when she was forced to face her biggest fear. What was her biggest fear now?
She shook off the thoughts. Don’t be stupid, she said to herself and she did the only thing that felt right.
Exactly an hour went by and Bev came downstairs wearing the same outfit she had worn when they first defeated It. Everyone stared at her surprised, she hadn’t wore that dress since that day. Just seeing Bev in that outfit made them all shiver in fear.
“Is that hair on your shoulder?” Stan pointed out.
“Probably,” She shrugged and dusted it off. She had cut her hair as short as it was with worn down scissors she found in a closet. Of course she didn’t look like she did when she was 13 but, hell, it was close enough to make the rooms air fell thin.
“Wuh-wuh-well we better get going,” Bill said looking back at everyone as they gathered their stuff.
They walked in a in a horizontal line with Bill in the middle holding a fence post nice and tight (with Stan right next to him and the butt of his gun sticking out of his backpack).
Ben stood awkwardly at Beverly’s left (Bill was at the right) and tried to observe Richie and Eddie on the other side. Everyone knew they liked each other, especially after last night's bonfire, and Ben wanted to see how they did it. How they would be so close and nothing was weird. Then he observed Beverly. That outfit made all her features stand out more since the last time she wore that was 2 years ago.
She had grown and he hoped he did too but he never noticed anything new with himself but the people around him seemed to be growing physically and mentally. That wasn’t always a good thing considering Stan was officially diagnosed with OCD and Eddie’s Anxiety got worse to the point where the pills weren’t (gazebos) placebos. His mental health wasn’t right after the event but his mother was too poor to pay for a medical bill to check if there was something they could do about it, but all they could was hope it didn’t get worse.
“This is it!” Mike said almost triumphantly as they walked between an old flower shop to see at the other side of them was an empty convenience store. They had taken the path through the canal where less zombies roamed and kept a sharp eye out. They never talked unless they were in the building that was already checked for those rotten corpses.
Richie went in first and checked to see if there were any zombies in the front and the rest poured in and checked the isles.
“All clear!” Stan yelled after checking the last aisle.
“Oh-okay guh-guys, get wuh-whatever you want,”
“I love being able to take anything I want,” he breathed taking in the scene. Trash mouth Tozier adapted the easiest to the whole apocalypse, no one to miss and no one to miss him, except for his losers. Everyone thought that was sad but they couldn’t lie about the single moments of feeling free.
“Don’t take too much, Tozier we gotta haul this back to the house,” Mike said picking up more cans of baked beans in the third aisle.
“Do you think they’ll have jerky here?” Bev spoke up from the “female product” aisle. Mike audibly gagged at the thought.
“Since when do you like beef jerky?” Stan said while getting jars of peanut butter.
“I dunno, I was just kinda craving something,” Her eyes scanned the store in a hunt for the dried meat. Stan rolled his eyes, after that everyone figured it was just “that time of the month” so no one said anything. The simple sounds of shuffling and small talk was abruptly interrupted by the shrill voice of Eddie Kaspbrak’s high pitched squeal.
“EDS?” Richie yelled running to the other aisle.
“FUCK OFF ME!” He’s voice pierced through the air.
“Eddie?” Mike ran with Richie.
“What’s happening?” Ben yelled as loud as his timid self would allow him next to the girl he loved. Bev started to smell something.
Was that blood?
Why could she smell that?
It smelt like meat?
Did it smell g-
“GET OFF HIM!” Richie yelled interrupting her thoughts.
“Holy shit!” She grabbed Ben’s arm and ran past the empty aisles clutching a fence stick in her other hand.
“FUH-FUH-FUCK!” Bill yelled. When they finally got to the other end of the store they saw the bunch of losers swinging their arms. Eddie was being ripped through the wall by a pair of rotting hands tearing at his clothes and skin. Eddie had one arm on the decaying hand trying to choke him and his other arm was being pulled by Richie who was being supported by Mike. Stan was shooting hands best he could without hitting their victim, but nothing was working.
“Stay out of my way!” Stan was yelling to all of the conflicted teens.
“HELP!” Eddie’s voice cracked. Beverly felt something inside her switch.
“Sorry Stan!” She shoved him out of the way and did the only thing her brain would tell her. She got a good grip on one of those arms and yanked it.
“HOLY FUCK!” Eddie screamed.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Stan said. Ben stared in utter shock.
“SHI-SH-SHIT!” Bill stuttered out.
The arm had been ripped out and the blood was pouring everywhere along with chunks of skin. After the arm was detached Richie took his chance and wrapped his arms around the small boy’s waist and lifted him up with all his strength. He got him far enough from the wall that Ben could use the extra axe the store kept to cut off the arms. They were all running out of the horrific crime scene but Ben stopped at the door, “Bev?” he yelled. She was standing there shaking with the arm in her hands.
What the fuck have I done.
Why the fuck was I gonna do that…
“BEV?” Stan yelled louder.
“Oh shit! uh… sorry,” She threw the at the floor and stumbled into things on her way of running out. After everyone was outside Stan used his second to last bullet and shot the zombie in the head. After that they ran to the back hesitantly and continued along the stream.
“AUGH!” Bev screamed as she hunched over and fell down. Everyone turned to her.
“Uh… Bev?” Bill crouched down and reached a supporting hand.
“GO AWAY!” She swung her arm out and pushed him off balance into the water.
“Bev what the hell?” Richie walked towards her. she started to crawl backwards onto land, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She was bent over due to the incomparable pain rising in her stomach.
“Bev calm down!” Mike tried to sound supportive.
“FUCK YOU!” She threw a rock at him.
“Beverly?” Ben said quietly walking ahead everyone.
“Bev stop!” Richie yelled. She stared at him with betrayal.
“Holy fuck,” Eddie said under his breath behind the trash mouth.
“AUGH!” She started to cry.
“Bev!” Ben ran to her. she lifted her head up to look at him in the eye. Her eyes started rolling back showing the whites in them.
“WOAH!”
“SHIT!”
“HAYSTACK!”
Stan ran to the front ahead of Bill who was stunned and stuck in the dirt.
He pointed his gun at her.
“Bev what the fuck!” his voice cracked.
“Woah Stan!” Richie yelled, he motioned forward but Eddie grabbed his arm and gave him a scared expression.
“UGH!” she grabbed her face and clenched her hair. She grabbed her bag and stuffed her arm into it. She grabbed the jerky and ripped off the top with her teeth and gorged on it, crouching over her knees. She whipped her head towards the losers club and as if fog had cleared in her eyes, the polished emeralds appeared again.
“I- What- I uh,” She tried to spit out.
“Hey,” Ben said timidly out of the crowd, “You’re okay. We’re- We’re all okay.”
She started crying against a tree as the rest of the gang dragged out of the water to comfort her.
“I’m so sorry…”
Ben was in the room with Bev, Richie was sure they were asleep by now. The rest of them sat on the ripped up couch in the living room. Eddie was leaning on Richie with what was left in his tear ducts stained on his cheeks. Richie was in the same disoriented condition, but everyone knew it was worse. This was the first real loss he’d experienced and she wasn’t even “gone” yet. Mike was in the kitchen cleaning up, it’s what he did when he stressed out. The three could hear Bill and Stan yelling at each other in the bathroom.
“YOU-YOU WERE GUH-GUH-GOING TO KUH-KUH-KUH-KILL HER STAN!”
“SHE COULD’VE KILLED YOU!”
Richie squinted while listening to the yells. Eddie was squeezing his hand noticing the tense feelings.
“WELL FUCK BILL! I DIDN’T KNOW WE WERE KEEPING ZOMBIES HERE NOW!”
“STUH-STAN STOP IT! DUH-DUH-DON’T TALK ABOUT BUH-BEV LIKE THE-THAT!”
“Whatever, Bill,”
“YOU’RE FUH-FUH-FUCKING JEALOUS!”
“OH DON’T YOU FLATTER YOURSELF BIG BILL!”
“You’ve ah-always been jeh-jealous of Bev! YOU-YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN-”
“YOU’RE A DICK! THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME! THERE’S A FUCKING ZOMBIE IN THIS HOUSE GODDAMNIT! AND I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEEMS TO CARE!”
“S-STAN STOP IH-IT!”
“STOP WHAT?”
“STUH-STUH-STUH-STOP!”
CRACK
“What the-“ Mike flinched.
Everyone jolted upright. There was a hole in the bathroom door and blood around the left splinters. Bill started crying uncontrollably and fell into Stan's arms, the bird boy just looked at the door in shock while holding his lover close to his chest. All the while two emerald eyes were silently pouring rains from the hallway at the top of the steps.
———————-
A/N: HEYOO!!! I have no idea on how y’all are going to react to this lmao but sorry for my shit writing pretending that what i wrote was so good and hyping it up haha.
Be the first on my tag list? send me an off anon ask!!!!1!!
I don’t have any previews for the next chapter yet sorry:/ but just a btw I’m writing this while crying my eyes out because of the last episode of stranger things.
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kadobeclothing · 4 years
Text
Wild celebrity hair transformations in isolation from Jade Thirlwall’s natural look to Olivia Attwood’s dramatic bob
CELEBS across the world are currently in isolation and just like us, they’re missing their favourite hairdressers to sort out their tresses. However, a few have taken matters into their own hands… With some wonderful and some, er, unexpected results. 18 Elle looks cute with her strawberry pink hairCredit: InstagramPEACH CRUSH Maleficent actress Elle Fanning revealed she had ditched her bright blonde hair for a beautiful peachy-pink shade. Sharing a bathroom selfie with her 4.2 million fans, the 22-year-old looked cute as a strawberry button with her new hue. 18 Jennifer Love Hewitt really likes her new pink hairCredit: InstagramLOVE PINKActress Jennifer Love Hewitt’s grin says it all as she shows off the results of her at-home dye job. Captioning the Instagram pic, Jenn wrote: “The smile of a girl who just did at home hot pink highlights because what else can I do right now!” The 41-year-old, who doesn’t usually stray far from her signature brunette tone, gave a bashful apology to her longtime colourist, Nikki Lee. “Don’t be mad, lol,” she wrote, tagging Lee in her caption. “I really miss you!” 18 Jade’s hair looks beautiful in its natural gloryCredit: InstagramCURLY GIRLYLittle Mix star Jade Thirwall might be a thirst trap but her glorious natural-texture hair certainty isn’t. Not a dry end in sight! Since being isolated away from her regular mane man Aaron Carlo, the 27-year-old has ditched the straighteners and embraced her stunning natural texture. 18 Cheer up, Chris! Your hair doesn’t look that badCredit: InstagramTOTAL RECALLHello, Chris? The 90s called, it wants its boyband curtain ’do back. Jokes aside, if anyone can pull off this grown-out style it’s Love Island’s Chris Hughes. Just look at those blonde highlights and natural waves. Swoon! 18 Olivia Attwood proves she can pull of long of shorter hairCredit: InstagramLONG AND SHORT OF ITWhile colour and cutting are two hairdressing staples, extensions also need a lot of professional maintenance to stay looking great. Now sporting a long bob, Love Island fave Liv Attwood seems to have ditched her usual mane of longer locks for her natural length. And it looks stunning. PRETTY IN PINKJLo sizzles in hot pink underwear as she flaunts toned body on photoshootBENDY BRITBritney shows off figure as she does yoga workout to help keep her ‘sane’’SO WORRYING’Catherine Tyldesley reveals both her parents have been battling coronavirusGO ON MY SONGeordie Shore’s Aaron Chalmers welcomes baby boy with girlfriend Talia OatwayLOOKING ALL WRIGHTMichelle Keegan hits supermarket in rubber gloves – and still looks glamMOVING ONBachelor star Hannah Ann Sluss is dating a mystery man while in quarantineTIME’S UPDoctor Who’s ex show boss Steven Moffat won’t return to write new episodesbrotherly banterWhen is Brews Brothers on Netflix? Release date, cast and plotsimp-ly brilliantThe Simpsons drops new special on Disney Plus focussing on MaggieCRIME SCENEWhere is Vera filmed? Locations in Northumberland and Newcastle revealed 18 Luckily Bruce was on hand to give his daughter a haircutCredit: Instagram18 Bruce and Demi’s daughter seemed pleased with her close cropCredit: InstagramCLOSE SHAVEWhat do you do when you’re in isolation and your mum starts rewatching her smash 90s hit, G.I. Jane? Well if you’re Tallulah Willis it means asking your dad to get the clippers out and give you a number one all over. The 26-year-old shocked her followers last week when she revealed her dad, Bruce Willis, had shaved all her hair off. Fans on social media were quick to point out the striking resemblance between Tallulah and her mother Demi Moore in G.I. Jane. 18 Whoops! Iain Stirling’s girlfriend Laura Whitmore should stick to the day jobCredit: InstagramSCISSOR HAPPYLove Island narrator Iain Stirling may think his girlfriend Laura Whitmore can do no wrong but one thing she probably won’t be doing again is hairdressing. Showing off her skills to Instagram, Iain captioned the tufty, wonky-haired image: “Just let Laura cut my hair.” One fan joked: “With what? A spoon?” Ouch! Perhaps stick to the day job, Laura. 18 Tina showed off her pink new ‘doCredit: InstagramUP OUR STREETCORRIE’S Corrie star Tina O’Brien showed off her shocking bubblegum pink ‘isolation hairdo’ to fans on Instagram and they are loving it! The mum-of-two unveiled her gorgeous new hue to her followers, while pretending to look out of the window and reminisce about the days of ice cream vans. 18 Sophie’s natural curls are stunningCredit: InstagramCURLY SOPHGeordie Shore babe Sophie Kasaei has always had long, straight hair extensions but now in isolation she’s gone natural and embraced her gorgeous curly locks. The beauty, 30, wrote: “So yep this is the real me guys. Hair extensions out, make up off eyelashes gone obv I still have my brows on and aesthetics in place… my parents would be proud of me embracing my natural curls. Raise a hand for the curly hair gang Also sad there’s no curly hair emoji.” 18 Luckily he’s handsome so no one will be looking at his hairCredit: InstagramNICE BUNSChristiano Ronaldo looks delighted with his new ’do, courtesy of girlfriend Georgina Rodriguez. The 35-year-old former Manchester United superstar flashed a big grin and thumbs up as his 26-year-old love clipped his hair. Apparently insisting on keeping his man bun, he told his 210 million fans: “Stay home and keep stylish.” Spanish-Argentinian model Georgina, posted the same clip captioned “haircut by Gio” and a laughing emoji. 18 Kylie has gone for a lighter, warm apricot colourCredit: InstagramGINGER NINJAKylie Jenner, who is currently isolating at home with her daughter Stormi, showed off her shorter new length and lightened hair colour. Known for constantly changing up her styles, the queen of Instagram showed off her new dark-peach hue by Cassondra Kaeding, a Los Angeles based hair colourist whose clients include Rosie-Huntington Whiteley, Kate Hudson and Ciara. 18 Would the real Joshua Ritchie please stand upCredit: InstagramBLONDE HAZECheeky Joshua Ritchie is all smiles as he shows off his new bleach blonde crop to his 973k Instagram followers. The Love Island star unveiled his blonde ambition and revealed it was part of a ‘dye your hair’ challenge, before nominating several of Island alumni. Tagging series four winner Jack Charles, he quickly responded to the dare: “Never
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”. Leave it to the professionals, Joshua! 18 Sultry Gaz has embraced iso life with a hot new lookCredit: InstagramRAZOR SHARPOne star who couldn’t wait to get the clippers out is Geordie Shore’s Gaz Beadle, who wasted no time in shaving off his hair just a week into lockdown. Uploading the photo on 29th March, he captioned it: “It’s off
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#lockdownhair
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”And it seems the dad-of-two is rather taken to his new ’do, uploading another photo and announcing: “Getting used to this look…
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shaved hair don’t care….
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” 18 The leader of the Beckham clan can pull of any lookCredit: InstagramGLORY DAYSIt must be 2004 because football hunk David Beckham is back to his glorious, shaved head. King of the changing haircuts, the patriarch of fashion’s first family debuted his drastic new look on Instagram after tiring of longer locks during isolation. Showing off the results of his trim with a black-and-white pic of his shaved bonce, he proved once again that he can pull off almost any hairstyle. 18 Cody let his girlfriend Miley Cyrus shave his hair – it must be loveCredit: InstagramBUZZING TO SEE YOUThe new Mr Miley Cyrus, Cody Simpson, let his girlfriend get busy with the clippers and shave off his former floppy-haired ’do. The 23-year-old musician let his 27-year-old beau give him a buzz cut as part of 4Ocean’s ‘Clean Cuts For Clean Oceans’ challenge to help remove trash from the sea. Keen to spread the word, Cody nominated pop superstar Justin Bieber. Over to you, Beibs. 18 Olivia’s pretty face and bubblegum pink hair makes her look sweetCredit: InstagramBUBBLEGUM QUEENLove Island star Olivia Bowen is now a bubblegum pink bombshell, after telling her fans it was “only a matter of time” before “hair boredom” struck. The 26-year-old looked beautiful in her photo for the ’gram, showing off her toned figure and impressive array of body ink. Olivia is currently isolating with hubby Alex Bowen and their two dogs at their new Essex home. 18 All hail queen Ari!Credit: ArianaGrande/TwitterSEVEN RING-LETSPop songstress Ariana Grande has ditched the straighteners, extensions and high ponytail for an altogether different look during isolation and her 180 million Instagram fans approve. One wrote, “Your hair !! thriving”, while celeb pal Katy Perry gushed: “Keep this look after quarantimes pls”. Got a story? email [email protected] or call us direct on 02077824220. We pay for videos too. Click here to upload yours.
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kashuan · 7 years
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In which I finally write a long ass post about all my grievances with the never ending shenanigans I see in the Iliad tag because I can’t take it anymore and needed to get it out tbh
Things y’all really need to stop doing, in no particular order: • Treating Clytemnestra like a Bad Bitch Feminist Icon #goals because she killed a character you don’t like. Know what she also was? Pretty hypocritical. Half her motive for killing Agamemnon is the mistreatment of their daughter, but guess what, Clytemnestra then goes on to treat 2/3 of her remaining children pretty much like shit. I suppose you could consider Electra to be an unreliable narrator in terms of her relating how coldly she was treated at home, but the facts don’t lie in that Cly let her new hubby Aegisthus pass Electra off to be married to some peasant so that she and her children would die without any power and wouldn’t be able to take revenge. It’s pretty indisputable though that her treatment of her son Orestes was flat out terrible. As a child, Orestes has to go into exile, as it’s implied Aegisthus would have had him killed otherwise. Cly just Lets This Happen. When Orestes returns to murder both her and Aegisthus as instructed by Apollo, Clytemnestra entreats him with a set of pretty flimsy excuses. Here’s a part from The Libation Bearers:
CLYTAEMESTRA Have you no regard for a parent's curse, my son?
ORESTES You brought me to birth and yet you cast me out to misery.
CLYTAEMESTRA No, surely I did not cast you out in sending you to the house of an ally.
ORESTES I was sold in disgrace, though I was born of a free father. CLYTAEMESTRA Then where is the price I got for you? ORESTES I am ashamed to reproach you with that outright.
Furthermore, she attempts to manipulate Orestes by entreating him to spare her because she is his mother, the one who nursed him, yet we know that this wasn’t actually done by her, and since a young age she has been completely absent in his life otherwise. When Orestes finally does kill her, this girl cannot even let it go at that but essentially makes sure he’s haunted by demons for the rest of his life. Talk about #petty, not even Agamemnon took it that far. So this character who's set up as like Badass Mama Bear is actually….not. Post Iphigenia at Aulis Clytemnestra is actually pretty self-serving, but not in the sort of way that should be admired. I think Clytemnestra is a great flawed character. Please no more ‘my perfect queen deserved better’ posts. I’m beggin’ ya. Read more than a summary of like 1/4th of her history and then let’s talk. • So I’m gonna follow this up with my long stewing Agamemnon Apologist rant (you: yikes me: Buckle Up). I’d like to begin this by saying we can all definitely agree that this man is a garbageboy stinkman. No arguing that. I love a good ‘Agamemnon is an asshole’ joke as much as the next guy. HOWEVER, when, when will I be free from posts that act like this character is honestly so completely one dimensional, that jokes about it comprise literally 98% of the tag. Where are the actually interesting meta posts that consider things about him beyond JUST being a dumpster of a man. For example, we know he was at least a half-decent bro. In book 4 of the Iliad, Menelaus basically scrapes his knee and Agamemnon essentially calls a T.O. on the entire war because HIS BROTHER, OK!!! Like yeah, he also includes a hilariously selfish line in that part that Menelaus can’t bite it because then he will be disgraced when he goes home, but the point stands. Further evidence of these having a tight relationship can be found in the Iphigenia at Aulis play. After the two of them have had a savage as hell argument about whether or not to sacrifice Iphigenia, taking some serious pot shots at each other, they have this exchange
MENELAUS I’ve changed, and I’ve changed because I love you, brother. I’ve changed because of my love for my mother’s son.  It’s a natural thing for men with decent hearts to do the decent thing. AGAMEMNON I praise you, Menelaus for these unexpected words, proper words, words truly worthy of you.  Brothers fight because of lust and because of greed in their inheritance. I hate such relationships; they bring bitter pain to all.
 I think Agamemnon’s relationship with Menelaus is actually one of the more interesting ones among the cast because he is both in a way protective yet also very controlling of his brother. Here and Here are a couple of fantastic essays on their dynamic and the way it differs from source to source. While on the subject of the play Iphigenia at Aulis and my favorite problematic fav getting the short end of the stick from fandom, can I just say that the majority of retellings, posts, and so on about this particular event ARE TERRIBLE? I’m so tired of seeing it depicted as though Agamemnon just killed his daughter like some afterthought, possibly while twirling his mustache like a cartoon villain. There is so, SO much more nuance to that scene and it kills the man when I see how no one ever discusses it in favor of just saying lol Agamemnon’s a dick, so anyway. Iphigenia herself is actually one of the best sources we have for the fact Agamemnon probably had more than a grand total of zero good traits. The relationship between the two is obviously a very close one and on the whole we get the sense that, aside from the whole killing his daughter thing (ya) he was actually a good dad. Like an inverse Clytemnestra :,). The scene where Iphigenia first speaks with Agamemnon is particularly telling of what was probably their normal relationship. IPHIGENIA What’s wrong, daddy?  You say you’re happy to see me but your face looks worried! AGAMEMNON A king, darling, a General is always worried. IPHIGENIA Make your worries go away, daddy. From now on, think only of me. AGAMEMNON Yes, my darling. I shall think of nothing else but you from now on IPHIGENIA Well then, get rid of this ugly frown from the face that I love so much! AGAMEMNON There! Oh, what a joy it is to see you, Iphigeneia! IPHIGENIA But… but look at you, father! Full of joy and yet tears flow from your eyes…AGAMEMNON Yes, dear… because our separation will be a long one.
Is he still a completly awful man for having sacrificed her? Yes. Completely. But here’s a few factors that play into this decision that I never see anyone, ever, mention: -It is Agamemnon’s intention to send Iphigenia away, to save herself, at the last minute, but Menelaus intercepts the letter meant to warn her of her fate. -Charismatic Odysseus has a good deal of control over the soldiers at this point and was probably looking to further increase his popularity among them (a consistent theme-- see: when he’s ready to shank his bff Diomedes just to be the only one to bring home a trophy from Troy instead of both of them). One can imply that if Agamemnon didn’t go through it, he would have done it himself -- and Agamemnon knew that (he mentions as much). -Gods are terrifying, my dudes. Treating it as though he could have just said ‘naw’ to Artemis’ order for Iphigenia’s death and gone home expresses a pretty fundamental lack of understanding how the Greeks feared the gods and just what the stakes likely already were by that point. Artemis was already pissed that he killed one of her sacred deer so it wasn’t as though she was just like ‘you can either sacrifice your daughter or go home unscathed’. I’ve only seen one other retelling accurately capture what very likely would have happened if Agamemnon didn’t go through with it: Artemis likely would have retaliated at the disrespect against the men and probably his family. Furthermore, the soldiers had already been stranded at Aulis for months on end-- a mutiny was exceedingly likely if they found out what was going on, one in which where they probably would have harmed not only him but also Clytemnestra and baby Orestes who came with Iphigenia. These two facts are more conjecture, but it’s a pretty plausible estimate and I’ve seen several scholarly essays arrive at the same conclusion.  If you’d actually like to see a depiction of Agamemnon that is both incredibly sympathetic yet does not shy away either from showing how terrible what he did was, please watch the 1977 Iphigenia movie. One of my favorite movies in general. Honestly I feel I could make a giant essay out of My Feelings on this particular subject alone so I’ll wrap it now because I have a lot of other stuff I want to get to, though I’ll include one final pet peeve: the amount of people who call Agamemnon trash because he was Sexist. You know who else was a Meninist? Every single goddamn man in ancient Greece. Okay, I’ll give a pass to characters like Patroclus and Hector when it comes to the women front because all we see is them being pretty decent. But like. Otherwise??? Sure, just because everyone is that way doesn’t make it any less shitty-- I’m not arguing that. But it’s also like reading a novel focused on an entire group of mobsters, but calling out only one of them as Problematic for being a criminal. Like, my dudes...  TL;DR: Agamemnon is a dick jokes are funny and completely deserved but throw in a few posts here and there that actually suggest you might have read more than just Book 1 of the Iliad and nothing else. Character depth is your friend. • That said, for the love of god, stop writing Menelaus like he’s just Agamemnon 2.0. A lot of adaptions do this because they don’t seem to know what to do with his character (I’m lookin’ @ u most of all Troy though he suffers some form of this in almost all film adaptions...) Which is a shame because Menelaus as a character is a lot more (and better) than that. From what we do know, Menelaus was actually (relatively speaking) a pretty chill guy and one of the least problematic out of these assholes (y’know, minus that scene I mentioned above with Iphigenia, but hey...at least he admits he fucked up?). We know that Helen voluntarily chose him to be her husband. We know that Helen wanted to return home to him by the time the Iliad takes place. We know they got back together after the war and more or less lived happily ever after. So why do I keep seein’ all these posts about Helen hating him or about him being another warmonger like Agamemnon. Menelaus was a Decent Dude. Leave him alone :,| • Speaking of Helen, how many times am I going to read “feminist” retellings where she either is totally indifferent to or even wanted the war to happen, where she enjoys watching men die, where she ~reclaims~ her demigoddess power and is A Figure To Be Feared. What Helen is this??? Because in the Iliad, Helen is remorseful af about all the people she’s indirectly responsible for the deaths of. There are more ways to build up and strengthen female characters than to make them just like the men they despise. Just. Saying. I get that people want to free her from the damsel in distress role she’s essentially relegated to, me too, but that is NOT the way to do it. Girl can be strong willed but still have a great amount of empathy. As with essentially every other bullet point above, please just give these characters more than one dimension. • Also, how many times am I gonna have to read about The One Fellow Female (Helen or Clytemnestra usually) who believes Cassandra’s prophecies in order to emphasize like, girl power, or that the author feels sorry for Cass and want to project that onto some other character or something. Dude, she was cursed not to be believed. PERIOD. BY ANYONE. There was no clause in the curse for like “except someone who really thinks you’re swell”. It’s tragic because there are no exceptions. No one believes her. NO ONE. THE END. • Achilles was bi. Bi af (by modern standards, of course). See: Iphigenia, Deidamia, Briseis, Polyxena, Penthesilea… I totally get this movement of wanting to call Achilles gay because for so long he and Patroclus have gotten the ‘just guys bein’ dudes’ treatment from scholars. I think it’s absolutely fantastic that potential element of his character is more widely recognized and accepted now. However, I can’t help but get these really uncomfy biphobia feels when I read all the posts about how gay he is, as if liking women makes his relationship with Patroclus less legitimate. That was one thing about TSOA which also really disappointed me-- it had to pull that yaoi fanfic trope of ‘girls are so icky and gross’ in order to further sell how convinced you should be of the same sex relationship. It’s just, Bad And Not Good. Finally, I feel like y’all are so busy hating Agamemnon and shoving off every single bad character trait into existence onto him, that Achilles is always ultimately depicted as this #relatable teen who did nothing wrong except get a little too upset when his bf died. May I remind you of just a few things Achilles also did: -Indirectly got a lot of men killed by refusing to fight during his quarrel with Agamemnon -Had 12 innocent children killed when Patroclus died -Basically everything involving Troilus. From wikipedia: [Achilles] is struck by the beauty of both [Polyxena and Troilus] and is filled with lust. It is the fleeing Troilus whom swift-footed Achilles catches, dragging him by the hair from his horse. The young prince refuses to yield to Achilles' sexual attentions and somehow escapes, taking refuge in the nearby temple. But the warrior follows him in, and beheads him at the altar before help can arrive. The murderer then mutilates the boy's body. Some pottery shows Achilles, already having killed Troilus, using his victim's severed head as a weapon as Hector and his companions arrive too late to save him. The mourning of the Trojans at Troilus' death is great. -Just straight up fucking murders a guy for making fun of him after he just murdered someone else. "Achilles, who fell in love with the Amazon [Penthesilea] after her death, slew Thersites for jeering at him" I’m sure there’s more receipts like this. So like. Can we throw in a couple posts now and then among the Agamemnon ones about Achilles, who was Problematic for far more reasons than just sulking in his tent :,) ...Okay. I think that’s it. FOR NOW. I guess I’ll end this by saying half of this is just my own opinion and I recognize that people can interpret and retell these stories and characters however they want to. It’s when it becomes so consistent however that people treat it like it is The One True Canon when it’s actually not that my jimmies get a bit rustled. [/END RANT]
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diary0fslut-blog · 6 years
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Here’s my intro
Well shit. Where should I start? Maybe with my purpose of all this. My purpose is to write about my experience, my real experience. I google stripper and sugar baby and all I get is that sugar coated cosmo interview shit. That ain’t it. This shits crazy, weird, confusing.. And ugly sometimes. I want someone who might be in a similar situation to mine, be able to relate. Or if someone is thinking about diving into this world, to know what it might entail. Every situation is different obviously but maybe it’ll be close to what could happen. Maybe you can learn a thing or 2 from my mistakes. I hope you do. Or maybe, you live an opposite life than I do. Maybe you have your shit together with a cool career and awesome life and will never have to do the things I do to get by. maybe this shit can just be pure entertainment to indulge in. That’d be fine by me too. Whatever your purpose is on my blog, I’ll drink to that. Cheers!
A little about myself: I’m keeping this shit anonymous, do I need to explain why? I think it’s just better this way. I’m 20 years old, about to turn 21. I didn’t grow up very fucked up in my opinion. My family was pretty cool, I was spoiled I would say. I feel kinda bad for how i turned out. My parents had bigger plans for me, I was their first kid, the one who would have made all their struggles worth it. Good grades, decent friends, they always did their best to provide me with the best they could. In their eyes, I probably should’ve been in college on a full ride scholarship, having the time of my life. Maybe I would’ve been a sorority bitch. But college isn’t calling me right now. I took a semester at the community college and failed all 3 classes. I’ll go back to that.. eventually. That’s what they had in their minds ideally, but on some deeper shit, I don’t think they ideally had planned on my dad skeedaddling a little after my high school graduation with some white trash bitch who my mom is convinced feeds him oxys. Whatever. Life isn’t about planning if you ask me. The more you expect things to go a certain way, the more disappointmented you are when shit takes a turn down what the fuck just happened street. He left my mom and my younger brother and sister behind. And me. Whatever.
Anyways, I’m a very confused gal. I think I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder but I never wanted to go back to the recommended full psychological evaluation to find out. I don’t want to be labeled that, on record at least. But maybe I am. Sometimes, it really does feel like I’m a different person within the matter of hours or days. Sometimes I get on new waves for months. I’ve been a lot of different people.That’s what makes the shit I do way harder than it might be. I’m constantly at war in my head. I would say it feeds into my promiscuous behavior, and all my fucked up relationships. In case anyone is wondering, my body count is higher than I am aged. I went through some weird shit that I looked for other people to fix, especially after i turned 18 and got my heart broken. Spoiler alert: it never worked!!!! I’ve slowed down on catching bodies but I still make mistakes here and there. That I was able to actually list by name, I’m at 22. That I might’ve forgot? Maybe 5. At the most. Whatever. I’ll never admit that number to anyone lol. I’ll stick to 10.
Next!!! Physically, I’m a pretty girl, I won’t lie. My appearance gets me a good amount of attention. I’m not a model but I’m cute. I’m mixed race. My dad is from Europe my mom is from Mexico. I think I look pretty Mexican but most can tell I’ve got some mutt in me. I’m 5’3 I’m weighing in at about 130 lately. Dyed blonde hair, cuteish brown eyes, a lot of people like my smile. I’m aight. I was super into working out for a while but then i got sad again. So i stopped about a month ago. if i dedicated a good 8 weeks to working out and not eating pasta every 3 hours, i would be pretty hot. My personality is pretty cool, it’s usually looks that attract but personality that hooks. I don’t know why. People think I’m cool, most of the time. If they don’t, they probably hate me. I don’t know why that is either. I have a job as a receptionist, but it’s not enough to get me by. I make 300 a week right now. How the fuck does someone live on 300 a week? I’m not a budgeter. That’s why I strip, I started stripping right after my first spring break in Mexico. Back then i was working at a call center and hated my life. My thought process was: if I can shake my ass for free why wouldn’t I for some cash? A good amount of cash at that. Some nights..I’ll get more into that later. But wait, I’ve already lied. I didn’t just go into the club and jump on the pole, I started off as a waitress first. A lot girls do. It didn’t last very long but I just wanted to see what it was like. It’s a lot less scary than it seems, when you’re there, there’s a lot of titties and ass to look at. And it’s not hard to feel good about yourself. There’s girls of all shapes and sizes, but what you figure out eventually is your looks are only the sample. If you want someone to give you their money, your mouth piece is more important. The club is a constant party. I honestly love the things I’ve come to experience there, people are so interesting. So weird, in a place like the strip club. It’s a place where people feel “free” in a fantasy.
I just started doing the whole sugar baby thing, but I’ll describe that in its own post. I don’t know how long it’ll last in all honesty. That shits way harder than stripping. Mentally at least.
Uhhhhh what else should I include in this post? Maybe my relationship status? It’s complicated. I kinda just ended shit with my boy (we’ll call him B) who finishes his short term prison sentence in about a month but I’m sure he’s going to convince me to stick around and shit will be better blah blah blah. I also have a psycho ex, (we will call him A) who might be my soulmate but its probably more like Stockholm syndrome on both our ends. We hate eachother. But we love eachother. It’s also B’s ex best friend! Yeah! I’m that bitch. My ex broke my heart too many times I wanted him to leave me alone. Forever. I thought fucking his old best friend would do the trick. And then we actually started dating. MUAHAHAHA I thought. He’s never coming back to manipulate and bother me. I was WRONG. I’m trying to let go, I know deep down it’ll never work but i still let him drag me around and pretend we might work and also i let him fuck me sometimes. Most times. Basically every time we see eachother. I don’t even want to most of the time, I don’t know who he sticks his dick in. And we hate condoms. But it always happens anyways. I’m so annoying. Yes I cheated on B with A. I’ll see how that plays out when he gets released. Stay tuned. But for now, I’m not with anyone. Technically.
I’m not sure what else to touch on in my intro here. I know this is stupid to say because I have literally 0 followers as I just made this an hour ago, but maybe in the future someone will read this and be curious. if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’m an open book, especially under the cover of my anonymous status. Just don’t ask me my name.
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