sir-gwaine-my-man

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

i am perfectly nothing but i feel my ideal self align

i am perfectly nothing but i’m trying to speak a deeper truth than i think i know how

i am perfectly nothing but i will keep trusting and loving no matter how much hurt befalls me

i am perfectly nothing but i feel the sun against my skin and empty myself of everything

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

today’s gender is the piano backing in the picture of ben part in Ibuprofen by Bears in Trees

no i will not be elaborating

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Forget whatever the intentional meaning was behind a song and start relating it to your own life

Because when Bears in Trees said ‘you didn’t want a boy to free you, you just needed a confidant’ and I realised that I only liked that guy because he was the only one that ever listened to me, and when Bears in Trees said ‘my preferred disposition would be for you to break my heart’ and ‘this love feels weird so I simply won’t believe it’ and I realised how complicated and confusing my relationship with my parents was, and when Bears in Trees said ‘I used to think I only had two states, forcibly yellow or a default grey’ and I realised that I had been living my life on autopilot, refusing to let myself feel because I was terrified of breaking, and when Bears in Trees said ‘would anyone listen to this, the ramblings of a lunatic’ and I wanted to scream because I’d felt ignored by everyone and everything for so long, and when Bears in Trees said ‘you won’t remember these lines in the morning, let’s just forget about it’ and I thought about how I can never express my true feelings because I was scared of change, and when Bears in Trees said ‘we used to be so pure, so fragile and raw’ and I realised how different and hopeful and innocent I was just a couple of years ago, and when Bears in Trees said ‘when my identity is entirely the maniac you see, if I became healthy would I stop being me’ and I knew that I was refusing to process any pain that I went through in case I changed who I was, and when Bears in Trees said ‘screaming hold my hand but please don’t touch me’ and I realised how much I wanted comfort but refused to be vulnerable, and when Bears in Trees said ‘put down the blades and swim to the shoreline, well oh god I’ve tried’ and I wanted to scream because I couldn’t understand why everyone around me could do the basic tasks that I couldn’t, and when Bears in Trees said ‘heaven sent is the way you say you’re proud of me you’re unconditionally loved’ and I wanted to be loved purely and completely without a fear of being seen as wrong and different and broken, and when Bears in Trees said ‘but I left at 2am to catch the first flight away from you (don’t touch me)’ and I considered how much I struggled to open up to the ones I love, and when Bears in Trees said ‘I must possess the thought that progress is a process’ and I felt such an intense fear of failure and refusal to commit because of it

Because music and art is so important in understanding how we perceive ourselves and the world around us and it is there to be looked at and admired and used and related to because we are all living in such a ridiculous world and this is what we were made to do

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

reblog this and put in the tags what comes up when you type “die”

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

In the genre of tragedy as defined by Aristotle, Anakin Skywalker is a tragic protagonist and in this essay I will-

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Biff Loman is gay

Just thought I’d put it out there

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Even the flaming depths of hell have rejected this monstrosity

Easily the best audio post I’ve ever made

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

May I have Gwaine with the flower in his mouth with a pan flag please?

My dude you know exactly what you want and I respect that wholeheartedly 🤣🤣

With bonus smiley boi 😊

Pride icon requests open! 🏳️‍🌈

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Me: *casually dropping hints about all of my ADHD symptoms cause I’m too scared to speak up*

My parents who apparently know nothing about ADHD:

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

😂 🎬 ❤?

Thank you for this! Had to do some searching since my fic's maybe 43,000 words by now

😂 Share your funniest line (or dialogue exchange).

“I think we can safely say we won,” said George victoriously.

“I don’t know,” Lee replied, defenceless under his pile of snow, “I’d call it a draw.”

Or (because I couldn’t decide)

”But what happened? I hardly doubt that Minnie chased you,” George asked, still chuckling slightly.

”No, Charlie did on behalf of McGonagall. I didn’t think that he would check his own common room for a Hufflepuff student.”

”Umm, Becs, Charlie’s going to come here eventually.”

”You’re not getting out of this one,” Fred laughed.

It was at that moment that Charlie entered the common room. Rebecca tried to sink further into the cushions, hoping that he couldn’t spot the top of her head from behind the sofa. “Fred, George, you wouldn’t happen to know where Rebecca is?”

”No clue,” Fred replied.

”Haven’t seen her at all,” George said, glancing down at the blushing girl next to him.

”We haven’t left the common room.”

Charlie approached the back of the sofa, resting his hands on the chair and looking down slightly. Rebecca tipped her head up slightly, greeting the older Weasley with a weak smile. “Hi,” she said.

“Yeah, hi,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Now come on, don’t make me carry you back to McGonagall.”

”You wouldn’t,” she replied, not fully convinced, as she got up.

”Oh, I would,” he returned with an evil grin.

”Alright, alright, I’m coming,” she squeaked, hurrying over. “Will you let me off after last night?”

”You seem just fine right now.”

”What if my glasses mysteriously fall off? Then I can’t see.”

”You don’t need to see, I’m leading you.”

She huffed slightly. “You’ve got an answer to everything. You’re not taking any house points, right?”

”You’re not in my house so I see no reason why I wouldn’t. But five points to Hufflepuff for the fireworks and the nerve to set it off in front of McGonagall. Minus ten points for hiding in my own common room.”

”Fair,” Rebecca muttered as they left the common room, the three other boys laughing as they left.

🎬 Share the last line you’ve written.

It was cold and bright outside, the frosty November morning sending chills down the players’ spines. The stands were filled with students from every house eagerly anticipating the match. Rebecca and Cedric’s rather large group of friends were gathered in the top rows of the stands. All except Lee who McGonagall had reluctantly allowed to commentate after the usual candidate had fallen ill. The two Diggorys happened to spot their friends and felt slightly braver for it.

🫂 Share a line (or dialogue exchange) that shows the relationship between two characters.

(The black heart is the only one that won’t show up for me so I’m assuming it’s this)

(For Rebecca and Cedric)

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, looking deeper into the forest.

“No,” she sighed in response, gazing up at the stars, mentally tracing the constellations.

“You find it strange, too, don’t you? No one else in the room?”

“I suppose, I’m used to Laura and Min being there. It reminds me of the hospital more than anything, it’s just so... empty.” She seemed to curl up more, holding herself tighter.

“Well, you’ve always got me,” Cedric assured her with a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as a sense of calm flowed into her. She moved closer to him, finding a sense of subtle joy in being with her brother. “I promise never to leave you.”

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Ask Game: WIP Excerpts

Note: I used the word “line,” but feel free to share more than one sentence! You can also alter any prompts that don’t apply to your WIP.

🌹 Share your most poetic line.

❤️ Share one of your favorite lines.

🗣 Share your favorite dialogue exchange.

🏝 Share your favorite description of a setting.

☂️ Share your favorite description of an object.

🤝 Share a line that introduces a character.

😂 Share your funniest line (or dialogue exchange).

💔 Share your most heartbreaking line.

☀️ Share a line with figurative language.

✍️ Share a line you’ve edited, and what it used to be.

☺️ Share a happy line.

✏️ Share the first line of any chapter.

📖 Share the last line of any chapter.

📝 Share the first line of your project.

🎬 Share the last line you’ve written.

🤯 Share a surprising line, or one where a character realizes something.

🎲 Using a method of your choosing, share a randomly-selected line.

🤨 Share a line that makes no sense out of context.

👤 Share a line that shows a character’s personality.

🫂 Share a line (or dialogue exchange) that shows the relationship between two characters.

✈️ Share a line where a character is traveling somewhere.

🤔 Share a line where a character makes a decision.

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Me, trying to figure out if I have ADHD: Do I hyperfixate? I don’t think so

My friend who has had to listen to me ramble about various books, tv shows and videogames for days:

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

WIP Ask Game

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Leon: Lancelot, please keep an eye on Gwaine today. He's gonna say something to the wrong person and get himself punched

Lancelot: Sure, I'd love to see Gwaine get punched

Leon:

Leon: Try again

Lancelot: I will stop Gwaine from getting punched

[sir-gwaine-my-man]

Future TLFTK fic

So I have an idea for something of a season 2 of The Letter for the King. Jussipo will be magically brought back, Viridian will not be dead, Tiuri has some form of magic, whatever was up with Queen Alianor’s eyes going black will be explored and it will be gay. In addition to this, I’d like to introduce my own character into this world. I’ve written the scene in which she would be introduced below so please tell me if you like her and if you’d be interested in a full length fic.

The guards wrestled Jussipo into the dingy cell, the previously dazed boy fighting back with a vigour they hadn't anticipated. They held his struggling form in a vice like grip, refusing to let go. "No!" he cried out. "Stop! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You looked drunk and suspicious, that's enough of a reason for us," snapped the first guard, shoving Jussipo to the grime smothered floor of the cell, the rough stone grazing his hands as he tried to cushion the fall.

"You never know what a suspicious looking person such as yourself could be after," the second added gruffly.

"Well, I’m clearly not drunk, and I'm just looking for my friends," Jussipo claimed with an air of indignation. "Perhaps you've heard of them? Foldo? Piak? Arman? No! Wait, come back!" But they had already locked the cell door, cool, dirty metal that he clung to as he watched them leave. He huffed in frustration.

The room was cold, the flickering candlelight providing stretching shadows that seemed to crawl and coil around the room, enticing evil to venture into the hearts of those that resided within. It was obvious that little care was ever given to those unfortunate enough to find themselves in the prison of Glenbourne. Jagged stone walls still stained with blood, damp, mouldy hay clumped together in rotting heaps. A deep rooted feeling of dread and neglect seemed to seep into Jussipo’s bones. The darkness he could feel churning inside him brought forth foul memories of previous occupants. If he had any means of escape, he would be taking them in an instant.

And then a voice seemed to speak from the very shadows themselves. “They’re all up in Dagonaut,” the voice began, a woman’s voice, a strange mixture of warmth and a sinister feel lacing her words. “They’ve all been knighted, from what I hear.”

As Jussipo’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the woman leaning in the corner of the only cell adjacent to his own, arms folded over her chest in an almost nonchalant manner, as though finding herself in prison was a common occurrence. She pushed herself off of the wall, walking into the faint glow of the candlelight. The woman stopped at their shared wall, casually resting her chin on one of the horizontal bars, sliding her arms over as well.

She couldn’t have been any older than 18, Jussipo estimated, and stood a couple of inches shorter than him. Brown locks cropped close to her head brushed against the metal of the bars whilst dark, inquisitive eyes studied him. A jagged scar traced her left cheek, ending just below her eye, adding to the sense of foreboding she brought forward.

“Have you seen them? Talked to them?” he asked hastily, shaking off the ominous feel that surrounded her.

She gave a short laugh. “Oh, no. I’ve never met them personally. In case you haven’t noticed,” she pointed out, gesturing to the ragged, dirty clothes she wore: a grey tunic threatening to tear and a leather jacket, ripped and missing all of its buttons. The threadbare outfit was held together by a belt to which a small knife was attached; it appeared to be the only weapon on her. “I’m worth less than the dirt on their boots. Posh pricks like them wouldn’t be caught dead talking to me.” She gave a slight scoff at the idea of nobility. “But it’s remarkable what you hear when you ask the right drunkard the right questions, or eavesdrop on the right conversation.” The woman paused for a moment as she regarded him more carefully. “You, though, I believe I know who you are. You’re him, aren’t you? Jussipo: the novice, the bard, the dead one.”

Jussipo looked at himself in confusion. He didn’t die, right? Sure, he remembered clawing his way out of his own grave but that must’ve been an accident, he had passed out and woken up buried. They just thought he was dead. His friends could only be a few days ahead of him at most. “That’s me, but I’m fairly certain I’m alive, thank you.”

“Ah, yes. That is where my statement would seem flawed, but there are rumours, whispers really, that the darkness your friends destroyed, the darkness that consumed Prince Viridian, is back and it’s stronger than ever. They say you can see him from the corner of your eyes, that shadows that seem to move unnaturally, that’s him. And I’m betting that it’s that darkness that’s brought you back from the dead.” Jussipo gave her an increasingly perplexed look, one tinged with fear. He couldn’t be back, they had defeated him, that’s what Tiuri said. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? You died two months ago.”

Jussipo looked at her in disbelief, backing away. Two months? Two whole months? It couldn’t be, that was impossible. Could they have forgotten about him? “Who are you? How do you know all of this?”

“Of course, where are my manners?” She took a step back, giving a mocking bow. “My name is Samena. I deal in secrets, gossip, information and, occasionally, thievery, and I will happily accompany someone so lost as yourself on your journey to Dagonaut.”

“Why would you help me? Surely there’s something in it for you,” Jussipo asked cautiously. Did he want help from someone who had just confessed to being a criminal.

“I’m headed up to Dagonaut anyway, but it’s a dangerous journey and I’ll need some form of protection, something I believe you can provide.” She looked pointedly at the sword hanging from his belt.

He gave the girl he now knew as Samena a skeptical look. “No catch?”

“No catch,” she confirmed. Jussipo continued to regard her with suspicion. “I’m also the only one who can break you out of here.” Samena unsheathed the knife from her belt, the blade looking strangely well crafted given her scuffed and ripped clothes. Jussipo took a step back as she pulled out the knife. “Relax, I just need it to pick the lock.”

Samena slotted the tip of the knife into the base of the keyhole before slipping in a lockpick she had hidden in her sleeve. Carefully, and with a speed only someone with experience could have, she pushed the pins of the lock up and used her knife to turn the lock. With a click, the cell was unlocked and she was soon strolling out of it.

She crouched down in front of Jussipo’s cell, ready to pick open the lock. “You sure you want to join me? A noble and some street scum? We’d be quite a pair.”

Any doubts fled his mind as the thought of returning home consumed him. “I’m sure, we both need to get to Dagonaut so we might as well go together.”

A smirk grew on Samena’s lips as she set to work. “Just what I was thinking.” 

Within seconds, the door was open and they were hurrying down the dimly lit corridors of the prison. Multiple inmates cried out to them, begging to be set free. Samena paid them little mind as they passed, although Jussipo’s heart clenched as he watched them cling to the bars of their cells like pitiful animals. “Most of those bastards deserve it,” Samena claimed with a grimace. “Killers, the lot of them.”

“If they’re all murderers then how did you get thrown in here?” Jussipo queried, eyeing his new companion warily. 

“I’d rather not say,” she hissed back. “The exit’s just up ahead.”

As they neared the door that would open out into the town, a guard turned round the corner, spotting them instantly. “Where do you think you’re going.”

“We’re just letting ourselves out, no need to worry about us,” Samena replied, slowly approaching with Jussipo behind her.

“And why would I let you leave?”

“Fabien, is it? Well, unless you want your wife to know about your affair, I suggest you forget you ever saw us.”

A flicker of frustration and fear crossed Fabien’s face before he walked back the way he came. That girl was more trouble than she was worth.

“You certainly have your uses,” Jussipo said as they snuck through the door and into the dark streets.

“Let’s just hope you have some, too. Wait here.” And with that she vanished, Jussipo left to stare at the spot she had been moments ago. She returned just moments later, trotting up to him on a horse. 

“You’ve only got one horse,” Jussipo complained once she arrived. “And you stole it!”

“We wouldn’t get very far on foot, and it’s a bit difficult to steal two, isn’t it? Get on or I’m leaving without you.”

It didn’t take long for Jussipo to comply once he heard the shouts and yells from the direction of what he presumed to be the stables. They took off at a gallop, quickly passing through the town and out into the forests beyond. They certainly were an unlikely pair.