#grenada girl

[ghost-37]

[nastynellz]

😊

[whodonthear]

Spice Mas in Greneda. They have the best j'ouvert, not up for debate. Love that energy https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsZntShp_gb/?igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

[whorekneecentral]

Prompt 2: “be a good girl” and prompt 67: “you cocky bastard.” “what's that ? you want my cock?” with Christian Pulisic

They get back to the hotel after him captaining the Grenada game tn and he’s being a bit cocky after the win + reader kinda turned on by him w the captain armband

captain chris is so !!! (also so sorry this was in my inbox for so long) // prompts: “be a good girl” + “you cocky bastard.” “what's that ? you want my cock?” 

There's something about a man in a captain's band that just does something to you and to see your boyfriend with that band around his arm, it just hits so different.

You find yourself staring at him, the two of you back to the hotel room. Christian drops his bag on the floor, dropping down on the bed. "I'm exhausted," he huffs, moving to lay properly.

You hum, emptying the contents on the bag. The little black band catches your eye. "I didn't know you could keep this," you spun the band around your finger as you climbed into the bed.

"Yeah, no one wanted it so," he shrugs, pulling you down to lay on his chest. You look up at him, fingers fiddling with the band.

"What?" He asks and your brows furrow. "What what?" You asked back.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He pulls the band away from you, making you pout slightly.

"If you're gonna take it, at least put it on." You grumbled.

"Oh," he sits up, smiling. "Is that what you want?" He taunts, slipping the band back into his arm.

"Shut up you cocky bastard." You huffed, looking away. You can't help the ache between your legs.

"What's that ? You want my cock?” 

"Shut up," you giggled, the man pulling you back to him when you go to get off the bed. Christian's got you pinned under him on the bed, his lips ghosting over yours. "All you have to do is be a good girl and I'll give you whatever you want."

"Who said I want you?"

"Oh, sorry let me -" he goes to get up but you pull him back, wrapping your legs around him. "Oh just shut up and fuck me."

[swimmingismywholelife]

Inspiration

Dedicated to the Puli girls who have given me inspo to start writing again! (Also this is my first bit of writing in literal years please be nice to me lmao) (Also also if I missed anyone in the tags sorry I’m lowkey running late for work so that’s my bad just let me know if you wanna be added!)

Summary: Even though the press conference is supposed to be about him, Christian can't help but look over at the one who he really owes the win to.

Warnings: Nothing this is just straight fluff lmao.

Word Count: 1004

You loved supporting your boyfriend. Truly Christian Pulisic was one of the most hardworking people you’d ever met, and you admired the passion he had everywhere he went. After all, it was one of the qualities that led to you falling for him in the first place. The past few weeks had been difficult for him, but he pushed through and never gave up (not that you would let him anyway). He deserved all the praise he received because he worked hard to better himself every single day, and you never turned down the opportunity to show the world just how proud you were of him.

Hence why you were seated off to the side, “Pulisic” being proudly displayed across your back while he finished up his press conference with Weston. He’d had so many setbacks within the past few months, and you knew he was frustrated with being away from the pitch for so long. Throughout the game were a few times you gritted your teeth, praying he wouldn’t aggravate his injury, but it was nothing Christian couldn’t handle. He’d just had two assists and a goal against Grenada, helping his team officially qualify for the Gold Cup in the summer. To top it all off, he’d done it with symbol of Captain wrapped around his bicep. You couldn’t have asked for a better game for him.

Yet despite this press conference meant to celebrate the team’s win, Christian insisted you be there throughout the entire interview. Christian was so proud of the way his team played, and he was pretty happy with his performance. But for him, the best part of his night didn’t come from any of his assists. It didn’t come from the comfortable lead the boys had throughout the entire game. Hell, it didn’t even come from the goal he didn’t think he’d end up getting. 

No, rather Christian was most happy that you were right there in the stands by his side, just like you always were. Ever since he got injured, he’d spent weeks frustrated that he couldn’t play like he wanted to. He knew what people had been saying about him online, and he wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong. But despite the negativity that suffocated him, you were the light that he needed to keep going. You centered him, helping him remember what he was doing and why he was doing it. You constantly inspired him to be the best version of himself that he could be. Even when he doubted himself, you always had enough belief in him for the both of you. 

Christian wanted the world to know just how much you meant to him, even if it was just you sitting off to the side as he answered questions. He snuck glances at you every so often, his eyes full of love. He adored how incredibly breathtaking you looked tonight. Christian always thought you were the most beautiful thing in this world, but he couldn’t help but admire you even more as you sat there, eyes twinkling with pride and his last name across your back.

“This question is for Christian,” one of the interviewers said.

His head snapped back in front of him, wanting to give the man his full attention.

“I noticed that throughout the night, you’ve kept peeking your head off to the side. Is there any particular reason as to why?”

Christian blushed ever so slightly, Weston slightly nudging his friend teasingly.

“Um yeah. Sorry this isn’t gonna be about football and I might go on a bit of a tangent, but it’s because my incredible girlfriend is sat over there. She’s actually part of the reason I played so well today.” 

He chuckled a bit, his eyes lighting up with excitement the more he spoke.

“She’s been so incredibly supportive throughout my entire career, and especially throughout these past few weeks. Getting injured was pretty rough for me, but she’s kept me pretty level headed. Even when I was at my lowest, her faith in me overpowered any negativity I had. She’s my good luck charm for sure, and I don’t think I ever would’ve made it this far if it wasn’t for her.”

He looked over at you once again. You were on the verge of tears, your heart feeling like it could burst at any moment. You were so in love with this man and truly you couldn’t believe how you managed to find someone like him.

“Every day I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her life because I can’t imagine anyone else really. Like honestly, I’m so much better because of her, both on and off the field. So yeah, I know tonight was a great game, but the best part for me was the fact that my girl was in the crowd wearing my jersey and cheering us on. And so yeah if you’ve seen me looking off to the side, it’s because I remind myself just how lucky I really am to have her.”

The crowd aw’ed at Christian’s proclamation. He’s right, his answer wasn’t really about football. But it was clear to everyone in that room that to him, you were just as important to the game as any practice Christian could’ve put in. Though he had won the game that night, he felt like every day he won because he had you by his side.

The interview continued on for a little while longer, but Christian continuing looking right at you. For now, your last name was only on in the form of his jersey. But he knew one day that it would be your last name too because there was no one else he would’ve wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And as the two of you smiled shyly at each other as though you were the only ones in the room, the genuine love you and Christian shared touched all who you were lucky enough to witness it.

Taglist: @neverinadream​ @pulisicsgirl​ @masonspulisic @lovelynikol16​ @chelseagirl98​ @bracedes​

[iishmael]

Global Reading Challenge: 113/200

A personal reading project, where I endeavour to read a book from each of the 193 United Nations member states plus 7 extra* ones. My main goal is to have fun and to learn, but I do have rules for myself:

The book should be fiction, and preferably a novel. I allow plays and poetry, but non-fiction only as the very last resort

The author should have the nationality of their country. If they have lived a good portion of their life there and genuinely represent the local culture, then it's ok if they've been born somewhere else

I want to read books that represent the local literary tradition. Preferably a "classic", a book that illustrates the local culture, or a book that is famous within the country. I avoid popular and contemporary fiction, and books that play outside of the country.

*Extra states have been determined based on UNESCO membership and personal interest where I want to read more books from. This is not a political statement.

The List

Afghanistan: Atiq Rahimi - Earth and Ashes

Albania:

Algeria: Albert Camus - The Stranger (FR)

Andorra: Teresa Colom - Mlle Keaton et autres creatures (FR)

Angola: José Eduardo Agualusa - The Book of Chameleons

Antigua and Barbuda

Argentina: JL Borges - Fictions

Armenia: Raffi - The Fool

Australia: Doris Pilkington/Nugi Garimara - Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence

Austria

Azerbaijan

Bahamas: Telcine Turner - Woman Take Two

Bahrain

Bangladesh

Barbados

Belarus: Uladzimir Karatkievich - King Stakh's Wild Hunt

Belgium

Belize: Zee Edgell - Beka Lamb

Benin

Bhutan

Bolivia

Bosnia and Herzegovina

Botswana: Bessie Head - Maru

Brazil: Paulo Coehlo - The Alchimist

Brunei Darussalam: K.H. Lim - Written in Black

Bulgaria: Elias Canetti - Komödie der Eitelkeit (GER)

Burkina Faso: Norbert Zongo - Le parachutage (FR)

Burundi: Samoya Kirura - La femme au regard triste (FR)

Cabo Verde: Germano Almeida - The Last Will & Testament of Senhor da Silva Araújo

Cambodia

Cameroon: Francis Bebey - King Albert

Canada: S. Alice Callahan - Wynema: A Child of the Forest

Central African Republic: Étienne Goyémidé - Le dernier Survivant de la caravane

Chad: Told by Starlight in Chad - Joseph Brahmin Seid

Chile

China

Colombia

Comoros: Ali Zamir - A Girl Called Eel

Congo

Cook Islands*: Kauraka Kauraka- Oral tradition in Manihiki

Costa Rica: Carlos Luis Fallas - Mamita Yunai (Die Grüne Hölle, GER)

Côte D’Ivoire

Croatia

Cuba

Cyprus: Kyriakos Charalambides - Selected Poems

Czech Republic: Jan Neruda - Prague Tales

DPRK (North Korea)

DRC

Denmark

Djibouti

Dominica: Jean Rhys - Wide Sargasso Sea

Dominican Republic

Ecuador

Egypt

El Salvador: Horacio Castellanos Moyà - Le bal des vipères (FR)

Equatorial Guinea: Trifonia Melibea Obono - La Bâtarde (FR)

Eritrea: Helen Berhane - Song of the Nightingale

Estonia: Jaan Kross - The Czar's Madman

Eswatini: Malla Nunn - A Beautiful Place to Die

Ethiopia

Fiji: Rajni Mala Khelawan - Kalyana

Finland

France: Pierre Louys - Aphrodite: Ancient Manners

Gabon: Daniel M Mengara - Mema

Gambia

Georgia

Germany: Thomas Mann - Buddenbrooks

Ghana: Ayi Kwei Armah - The beautiful ones are not yet born

Greece

Greenland*: Knud Rasmussen - Eskimo Folktales

Grenada: Merle Collins - The Colour of Forgetting

Guatemala: Miguel Angel Asturias - Strong Wind

Guinea: Camara Laye - The Radiance of the King

Guinea Bissau: Abdulai Sila - The ultimate tragedy

Guyana Haiti

Honduras: Froylan Turcios - El Vampiro (SPA)

Hungary: Arthur Koestler - Darkness at Noon

Iceland

India: Rabindranath Tangore - The Home and the World

Indonesia

Iran: Sadegh Hedayat - The Blind Owl

Iraq: Andrew George - The epic of Gilgamesh

Ireland: James Joyce - Dubliners

Israel

Italy: Italo Calvino - If on a Winter's Night a Traveller

Jamaica: Andrew Salkey - Hurricane

Japan

Jordan: Amjad Nasser - L'ascension de l'amant (FR)

Kazakhstan

Kenya

Kiribati: Teresia Teaiwa & Vilsoni Hereniko - Last Virgin in paradise

Kosovo*: Flora Brovina - Call me by my name

Kuwait

Kyrgyzstan: Chingiz Aitmatov - Jamila

Laos: Outhine Bounyavong - Mother's Beloved

Latvia

Lebanon

Lesotho

Liberia: Bai T. Moore - Murder in the Cassava Patch

Libya

Liechtenstein

Lithuania: Vingas Kreve - The Herdsman and the Linden Tree

Luxembourg: Norbert Jacques - Dr Mabuse der Spieler (GER)

Madagascar: Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo - Traduit de La nuit (FR)

Malawi

Malaysia

Maldives: Abdullah Sadiq - Dhon Hiyala and Ali Fulhu

Mali

Malta

Marshall Islands: Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner - Iep Jaltok: Poems from a Marshallese Daughter

Mauritania: Moussa Ould Ebnou - L'Amour Impossible (FR)

Mauritius

Mexico: Mario Bellatín - Beauty Salon

Micronesia: Emelihter Klieng - My Urohs

Monaco: Louis Notari - La légende de Sainte Dévote (FR)

Mongolia: Galsan Tschinag - Die Karawane (GER)

Montenegro: Petar II Petrovic Njegos - The Mountain Wreath

Morocco: Abdellatif Laâbi - Le bâpteme chacaliste (FR)

Mozambique

Myanmar

Namibia

Nauru: Nancy Viviani - Nauru, phosphate and political progress

Nepal

Netherlands

New Zealand: Witi Ihimaera - The Whale Rider

Nicaragua: Rubén Dario - Azul… (SPA/ENG)

Niger

Nigeria: Chinua Achebe - Things Fall Apart

Niue*: John Puhiatau Pule - The Bond of Time: An Epic Love Poem

North Macedonia

Norway: Henrik Ibsen - A Doll's House

Oman

Pakistan: Jamil Ahmad - The Wandering Falcon

Palau: Hermana Ramarui - The Palauan Perspective: a poetry book

Panama: Ricardo Miró - Las Noches de Babel (SPA)

Palestine*: Ibrahim Nasrallah - Prairies of Fever

Papua New Guinea: Vincent Eri - The Crocodile

Paraguay

Peru: Mario Vargas Llosa - In Praise of the Stepmother

Philippines

Poland: Isaac Singer - The Magician of Lublin

Portugal

Qatar

Republic of Korea

Republic of Moldova

Romania: Ioan Slavici - The lucky mill

Russian Federation: Leo Tolstoi - The Death of Ivan Ilyich

Rwanda

Saint Kitts and Nevis: Caryl Philips - Cambridge

Saint Lucia: Derek Walcott - Omeros

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines

Samoa: Albert Wendt - Leaves of the Banyan Tree

San Marino: J. Theodore Bent - A freak of Freedom: or, the Republic of San Marino

Sao Tome and Principe:

Saudi Arabia

Senegal

Serbia

Seychelles: Antoine Abel - Coco Sec (FR)

Sierra Leone

Singapore

Slovakia: Milan Rúfus - Strenges Brot

Slovenia: France Prešeren - Poems

Solomon Islands: John Saunana - Cruising Through the Reverie

Somalia: Hadraawi - The Poet and the Man

South Africa: JM Coetzee - Disgrace

South Sudan: Nyuol Lueth Tong - There is a country

Spain: Miguel de Unamuno - Abel Sanchez and Other Stories

Sri Lanka

Sudan

Suriname

Sweden: August Strindberg - The Red Room

Switzerland

Syrian Arab Republic: Ibn al-Nafis - Theologus Autodidactus

Taiwan*

Tajikistan: Shavkat Niyazi - At the Foot of Blue Mountains: Stories by Tajik Authors

Thailand

Timor-Leste: Xanana Gusmão - Mar Meu

Togo

Tonga: Epeli Hau'ofa - Tales of the Tikongs

Trinidad and Tobago

Tunisia: Albert Memmi - The Pillar of Salt

Turkey

Turkmenistan: Magtymguly - Poems from Turkmenistan

Tuvalu: Neil Lifuka - Logs in the current of the sea

Uganda: Okot p'Bitek - Song of Lawino & Song of Ocol

Ukraine: Andrey Kurkov - Death and the Penguin

United Arab Emirates

UK: Virginia Woolf - Mrs Dalloway

United Republic of Tanzania

USA: John Steinbeck - Grapes of Wrath

Uruguay

Uzbekistan: Abdullah Qoqiriy - Bygone Days

Vanuatu: Grace Molisa - Black Stone

Vatican City*: Andrew Graham-Dixon - Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel

Venezuela

Viet Nam

Yemen: Abdul-wali - They die strangers

Zambia

Zimbabwe

[tuxedokit]

If you could relive any of your memories, which would it be?

weve been mulling this over like all day but we have so many good ones from this lifetime its hard to decide. im gonna ask around and we'll compile the best ones here - [AR] Autopilot 💾

last summer on our familys annual beach vacation we did shrooms and saw through the fabric of the universe and befriended The Horrors. that was pretty cool. id like to relive being high off my gourd stargazing in a place with such little light pollution - Starlight 🌌

im gonna say when we were in tennessee like almost 2 years ago. we had flown out to visit our friend (now qpp & partner system) seepy and heart's so small they're shorter than us and i dunno it was the first time doing something like that and she was so small in my arms and i could honestly have just held him forever. i love you seeps ◇ - Carpet ✨️

yesterday for our friend bears birthday we went to an enchanted forest escape room and it was so well put together and ethereal and it was the best 40 minutes of my life in this physical realm ive never felt so at home. there were puzzles and mushrooms and music and gnomes and my bestest friends were right there too!!! oh it was so wonderful - Sayakura 🧚‍♀️

confessing to luci. nuff said. but i wanna say more so im gonna: it was me realizing i was in love at the same time as confessing cause i kinda just asked for advice in a group server w them fdsgjsksl. we were already qpps and apparently my family thought we were already dating (i mean we called beem our soulmate like - ✨️) but like i wound up spending the whole afternoon just thinking about them and being giddy. it was nice - Luna 🌙

mine's gotta be the first time we climbed that abandoned water tower past the ravine. we had spraycans and i wrote trans rights on the side of it. the wind gave us such a thrill, it was incredible. and the view was definitely worth it - Waks 📹

im claiming that time in grade 11 when our gr9 science teacher + gr11-12 bio teacher mr coulter approached me and asked if i wanted to go on a field trip to the science centre that was intended for the grade 12 kids. i didnt know anyone but i didnt care bc mr coulter was there and i wore my new animaniacs shirt and i got to run around the science centre itself during the lunch break and play with genetics stuff (i was such a nerd about punett squares and all that its no wonder he asked me specifically). i think the best part was the feeling i had when i was sitting next to mr coulter on the bus ride there and back. he let me take a selfie with him.... mr coulter was like a father to me, so it meant a lot. - Quinn ✉️

i wanna relive when we were playing with shanny and teagsi and we climbed the big tree near the ice rink by our school. i used to read up there too :) - Little One 👾

the body's nanna flew us out to grenada in march... i would like to relive swimming at that beach, on that little island in carriacou. the water was clear and a such beautiful blue, the air was just a little too warm and humid, and sitting on that beach reminded me of my old home - Riku/Shore ⚔️

mine's gotta be the second year we went to camp mini yo we! specifically, reading the letters mom wrote me for each day of the week. she wrote a little story about me; i was the doctor's daughter but i didnt know it, and i had powers that warped me through space and time seemingly at random. she wrote that i found a place and led a revolution against tyrannical oppressive overlords. not single-handedly taking down the villains, but helping empower the people so they could fight for themselves. by the end of the week we had found a crowd of invested listeners in the other girls at camp. it was nice... i think about those letters a lot - Secret 🧩

we were bodily sitting alone in the grass at a local park, it was right as we were discovering our plurality. i could see all of us all over the park, as if we were all there. the kids were playing tag, some were poking around in the forest right there, quinn was in that big tree we like to sit under... scrooge and quinslap were off smoking a joint, sitting on a tree trunk that had grown a little horizontal before it remembered to grow up. it wasnt in our view but we know the path and it was in the area enough that they could be there while our body simply sat in the grass. it was a fascinating and beautiful feeling. like a family picnic, but with only one person present. - [AR] Autopilot 💾

might add more later

[clairelsonao3]

Happy STS! Your characters are making their Christmas lists. What's on it?

Happy week late STS! Thanks for the ask!

I mean, this is one of those questions where it's a lot more fun if we set it in an AU where the characters would actually have the privilege of wishing for material goods instead of things like, uh, freedom, or safety for them and their loved ones, or proper medical treatment, or to live in a better, kinder, more peaceful world. 😅

So first of all, we have to make sure all that stuff has been achieved, because my characters won't be asking for anything else until it has. (And they're still probably gonna feel guilty about it).

That said, [Redacted] will probably ask for a car in any universe he's in. It doesn't have to be a Porsche, just something European-made. And maybe something super nerdy like a really advanced telescope or computer hardware. And then I'll surprise him with a puppy since he's always wanted one. 🥹

Meanwhile, Louisa wants a new Prada handbag (you can take the girl out of Scottsdale...) and a yachting trip to Grenada, because that's her happy place and she hasn't been in a long, long time. And then I'll surprise her with a first edition French language copy of Les Miserables.

[harriertail]

Weird reading roundup

Gravitys Rainbow - ngl i gave up. i adored the writing style- the sidetracking stories, the background, the general insanity and interconnected world- from Argentina to Southwest Africa to Russia to England. I get the whole plot is about this yank who’s dick is connected to nazi rockets and everytime he shags a girl london gets bombed but wtf was that second half? I wanted to enjoy it, but it felt like less of a story/novel and more of a series of characters/events designed to either shock or confuse (much like Less than Zero, Guts, or Infinite Jest though). When this book does moral grandstanding or political views it does it really well, and again the prose is fantastic. A lot of the “chapters” (long segments within each bigger part) could stand on their own as short stories. A shame about all the… that…

Drive your Plow over the Bones of the Dead - suggested by the lovely pigeocore. Took a while to get into the style and the weird Capitalisations but it really sets this weird, not-right tone. Unhinged in a good way. A murder mystery of the best kind. I hated every character but the narrator. 

Apricots - this was.... weird. the style is very ‘basic’ and kinda jumpy. the dialogue is kinda weird and unnatural. The news clippings were really nice in setting the tone but the random non Forrest chapter was fucking weird. I think the contrast between Grenada and Lebanon rlly should have been played up. This def is one of those non fiction books that are basically the authors memoirs (ala Slaughterhouse Five) so i’ll let it slide on feeling disjointed. It gets a little preachy with the whole “i gave my life for this” and gives speeches in parts but i think the ending justified it. Kinda bleak- again, I tend to view nonfiction war novels by former service members as half fiction, half real and inspired by their experiences which softens me to certain things I’d usually not like in other genres. I dont like ranking things numerically so i will describe this as chain restaurant burgers, its not brilliant stuff but for a weekday trip out itll do. I did like it, but i dont think other people would.

The Road - i like McCarthy usually (even if i gave up on Child of God) and i love his style but again. What? I adored the writing style; the jumpiness of it, the craftsmanship of it. Something about it just felt off to me

Of Love and Other Demons - when i understand what this book was about I’ll let you know. I like Marquez so I’m bias buttt this was fucking unhinged, like straight off the bat. setting was fantastic. no fucking clue about the rest.

Up next: 100 Years of Solitude (Marquez) The Antipeople (Tansi), Dreambaby (McAllister), and please feel free to suggest any novels that made you go ‘what the fuck?’ (in a good way!!!)

[keisocool]

Silk So Fine

this took way to long like wayyyyy to long😻🙈 enjoy my lovessss

Tw : Assault, war crimes , arson, mentions of sa

She was the sun reborn the epitome of beauty, the moon her face her hair as wild and calm as the sea both equally beautiful the stars and moon looked upon her beauty and elegance she was Kayiah , was the earth goddess of island of Grenada She was known for her beauty, strength,intelligence, and was a powerful protector of the earth and its inhabitants.

One day, Kayiah was banished from Olympus by her fellow goddesses and gods who were jealous and accused her of being "too wild and uncontrollable."

As she wandered she was chained to the earth, so she started creating life, with her tears and sorrows she created a plethora of creatures. Each and all her children, she wanted them to keep her companion non of which want to and only kept breaking promises and cutting deep her making her heart break even more.

Her beautiful smooth dark brown skin began to turn to stone and she no longer had love in her heart for her children the whole island began to decay they started to beg for mercy and as she did they kicked her out casting her out to sea after a pirate attempted to make her his "wife." Instead of taking her side she was kicked completely off the island.

She walked away far from humanity she came across a island if you can even call it that it was just a flat floating rock adrift at sea. She cried and cried hard everything that's she's ever known has been stripped from her time after time.

This time her tears made the rock flourish green everywhere. She was trapped in this rock mentally so she did what any person would do after crying she fell asleep. Thick vines cover she brown skin keeping her attached.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

50 years passed she wouldn't know she was tossed into a deep sleep. She hasn't aged a day all her dreams were blank. That was until that fateful day.

"HEY GUYS LOOK AN ISLAND " a pirate with a straw hat yelled excitedly. "Calm down luffy it's just a grassy rock i doubt there's anything of worth here" an orange hair girl said not surprised by her captain.Nami-swannn~ she's so precious", a blonde male said with heart eyes. As the crew approaches the mysterious floating rock,they noticed the thick vines covering the surface and decided to investigate.

"G-Guys I don't think we should be here " a cowardly voice said. 'For once I'm with long nose" swman grumbled. The Straw hat didn't care Island means food. Food is food, the one named luffy was being the curious captain he was and climbed up the vines only to find a beautiful statue woman with brown skin, sound asleep wrapped up in a pile vines.

He nudged her awake trying to wake up the sleeping beauty, but she remained motionless . "Hey lady do you have food?" The curious captain asked. Even though she heard him she couldn't wake up so intranced in her slumber she made a vine craft of 3 ripe mangoes.

"WHOAAAAA FOOOODDDD" the loud captain yelled,"did you do that?" He said while stuffing his face. "YUMMY can I have more please?" He asked with a grin. She made more Her body twitched just a bit the first time in a long time she heard voices clearly. The crew stumbled across their captain stuffing his face laughing with a statue of a beautiful woman.

" HEY GUYS LOOKIT" an overly excited captain was pointing to which the crew looked at the statue cracking. Then a woman fell out of said statue on to the grown dressed in fine silk hatler top and skirt with golden sandals. hues of green,brown, white and gold adorn her. She laid still unable to breath her pierced nose twitch.

The crew pondered what to do with her, but eventually they decided to take her aboard their ship, where chopper nursed her back to health.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

As she slowly regained her consciousness she opens her eyes and looked at her surroundings. She was . Guysss come here she's awake"a raccoon dog spoke as a Piece of stone breaking off of her once hard skin turning back soft and full of life everyone flocked to see "who are you ? "Luffy asked. "I am a goddess "she replied still dazed from her long sleep. The whole crew looked at her in disbelief. "NO WAY SHE COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE A GODDESS" the crew was in . "You were trapped in that rock for 50 years," Nami said with concern. "We found you and brought you aboard our ship." "You must simply let me repay you for your kindness as she made heaps of gold, precious metals ans fruits. Everyone's jaw was on the floor." I am Kayiah, the earth goddess of Grenada," she replied, her voice soft and melodious like silk.

"Well I'll be off now" she said with a smile, as she arted to walk away because it had been awhile since she last walked she tripped falling face first.

The silence was loud the a hearty laugh emerges from the Straw hat. "You're odd you should join my crew" He said with a smile " no thank you,but can you direct me to the next island It would be much appreciated" she stated with a smile still trying to get up "nah but if you were part of my crew then maybe I would help you " He said with a grin she gave him a blank stare , she walked over to the deck as everyone stands around her awaiting her decision. "Your Pirates right?" She asked knowingly looking up at the obvious pirate flag "Yes but what does that matter big sis can i call you big sis how did you make all this gold" a orange haired navigator spoke up " Then id have to decline" her accent still pervelent.she sat on the railing maintaining eye contact she jumped off the railsof the merry with a splash .

"MY HAIRR" the brown skin girl screamed as the water spit her back into the ship her clothes drenched and her curls drenched,she stood up and started making a raft with palm leaves then was about to dive in when a beautiful raven haired woman tapped her shoulder." Um I don't think It's wise to go out to sea in that raft especially when Nami said there was going to be a storm". She got up slowly and turned around "miss I'm very thankful you and your friends saved me bit I can't over stay my welcome, i don't have the best history with pirates" she replied with a unique expression "no is okay we totally get it" the navigator spoke up "you don't have to trust us we're currently on our way to skypia ". She felt something warm and fluffy wrap around her leg. She looked down confused and saw the little reindeer tearing up "momma" it said give Kayiah the cutest puppy eyes 'hell why is there a reindeer on board' she smiled gently at the crying reindeer picking it up I guess ill stay till the storms over.

[hussyknee]

Arundati Roy writing in The Guardian against the Afghanistan War on October 2001

“Brutality smeared in peanut butter”

Why America must stop the war now.

By Arundhati Roy

Tue 23 Oct 2001 • 00.57 • BST •

-------------------------------------------

As darkness deepened over Afghanistan on Sunday October 7 2001, the US Government, backed by the International Coalition Against Terror (the new, amenable surrogate for the United Nations), launched air strikes against Afghanistan. TV channels lingered on computer-animated images of cruise missiles, stealth bombers, tomahawks, "bunker-busting" missiles and Mark 82 high drag bombs. All over the world, little boys watched goggle-eyed and stopped clamouring for new video games.

The UN, reduced now to an ineffective acronym, wasn't even asked to mandate the air strikes. (As Madeleine Albright once said, "We will behave multilaterally when we can, and unilaterally when we must.") The "evidence" against the terrorists was shared amongst friends in the "coalition".

After conferring, they announced that it didn¹t matter whether or not the "evidence" would stand up in a court of law. Thus, in an instant, were centuries of jurisprudence carelessly trashed.

Nothing can excuse or justify an act of terrorism, whether it is committed by religious fundamentalists, private militia, people's resistance movements – or whether it's dressed up as a war of retribution by a recognised government. The bombing of Afghanistan is not revenge for New York and Washington. It is yet another act of terror against the people of the world.

Each innocent person that is killed must be added to, not set off against, the grisly toll of civilians who died in New York and Washington.

People rarely win wars, governments rarely lose them. People get killed.

Governments moult and regroup, hydra-headed. They use flags first to shrink-wrap people's minds and smother thought, and then as ceremonial shrouds to bury their willing dead. On both sides, in Afghanistan as well as America, civilians are now hostage to the actions of their own governments.

Unknowingly, ordinary people in both countries share a common bond - they have to live with the phenomenon of blind, unpredictable terror. Each batch of bombs that is dropped on Afghanistan is matched by a corresponding escalation of mass hysteria in America about anthrax, more hijackings and other terrorist acts.

There is no easy way out of the spiralling morass of terror and brutality that confronts the world today. It is time now for the human race to hold still, to delve into its wells of collective wisdom, both ancient and modern. What happened on September 11 changed the world forever.

Freedom, progress, wealth, technology, war – these words have taken on new meaning.

Governments have to acknowledge this transformation, and approach their new tasks with a modicum of honesty and humility. Unfortunately, up to now, there has been no sign of any introspection from the leaders of the International Coalition. Or the Taliban.

When he announced the air strikes, President George Bush said: "We're a peaceful nation." America¹s favourite ambassador, Tony Blair, (who also holds the portfolio of prime minister of the UK), echoed him: "We're a peaceful people."

So now we know. Pigs are horses. Girls are boys. War is peace.

Speaking at the FBI Headquarters a few days later, President Bush said: "This is our calling. This is the calling of the United States of America. The most free nation in the world. A nation built on fundamental values that reject hate, reject violence, rejects murderers and rejects evil. We will not tire."

Here is a list of the countries that America has been at war with – and bombed – since the Second World War: China (1945-46, 1950-53), Korea (1950-53), Guatemala (1954, 1967-69), Indonesia (1958), Cuba (1959-60), the Belgian Congo (1964), Peru (1965), Laos (1964-73), Vietnam (1961-73), Cambodia (1969-70), Grenada (1983), Libya (1986), El Salvador (1980s), Nicaragua (1980s), Panama (1989), Iraq (1991-99), Bosnia (1995), Sudan (1998), Yugoslavia (1999). And now Afghanistan.

Certainly it does not tire – this, the most free nation in the world.

What freedoms does it uphold? Within its borders, the freedoms of speech, religion, thought; of artistic expression, food habits, sexual preferences (well, to some extent) and many other exemplary, wonderful things.

Outside its borders, the freedom to dominate, humiliate and subjugate ­ usually in the service of America¹s real religion, the "free market". So when the US Government christens a war "Operation Infinite Justice", or "Operation Enduring Freedom", we in the Third World feel more than a tremor of fear.

Because we know that Infinite Justice for some means Infinite Injustice for others. And Enduring Freedom for some means Enduring Subjugation for others.

The International Coalition Against Terror is a largely cabal of the richest countries in the world. Between them, they manufacture and sell almost all of the world's weapons, they possess the largest stockpile of weapons of mass destruction – chemical, biological and nuclear. They have fought the most wars, account for most of the genocide, subjection, ethnic cleansing and human rights violations in modern history, and have sponsored, armed and financed untold numbers of dictators and despots. Between them, they have worshipped, almost deified, the cult of violence and war. For all its appalling sins, the Taliban just isn't in the same league.

The Taliban was compounded in the crumbling crucible of rubble, heroin and landmines in the backwash of the Cold War. Its oldest leaders are in their early 40s. Many of them are disfigured and handicapped, missing an eye, an arm or a leg. They grew up in a society scarred and devastated by war.

Between the Soviet Union and America, over 20 years, about $45bn (£30bn) worth of arms and ammunition was poured into Afghanistan. The latest weaponry was the only shard of modernity to intrude upon a thoroughly medieval society.

Young boys ­many of them orphans – who grew up in those times, had guns for toys, never knew the security and comfort of family life, never experienced the company of women. Now, as adults and rulers, the Taliban beat, stone, rape and brutalise women, they don't seem to know what else to do with them.

Years of war has stripped them of gentleness, inured them to kindness and human compassion. Now they've turned their monstrosity on their own people.

They dance to the percussive rhythms of bombs raining down around them.

With all due respect to President Bush, the people of the world do not have to choose between the Taliban and the US Government. All the beauty of human civilisation – our art, our music, our literature – lies beyond these two fundamentalist, ideological poles. There is as little chance that the people of the world can all become middle-class consumers as there is that they will all embrace any one particular religion. The issue is not about good vs evil or Islam vs Christianity as much as it is about space. About how to accommodate diversity, how to contain the impulse towards hegemony ­ every kind of hegemony, economic, military, linguistic, religious and cultural.

Any ecologist will tell you how dangerous and fragile a monoculture is. A hegemonic world is like having a government without a healthy opposition. It becomes a kind of dictatorship. It¹s like putting a plastic bag over the world, and preventing it from breathing. Eventually, it will be torn open.

One and a half million Afghan people lost their lives in the 20 years of conflict that preceded this new war. Afghanistan was reduced to rubble, and now, the rubble is being pounded into finer dust. By the second day of the air strikes, US pilots were returning to their bases without dropping their assigned payload of bombs. As one pilot put it, Afghanistan is "not a target-rich environment". At a press briefing at the Pentagon, Donald Rumsfeld, the US Defence Secretary, was asked if America had run out of targets.

"First we're going to re-hit targets," he said, "and second, we're not running out of targets, Afghanistan is..." This was greeted with gales of laughter in the briefing room.

By the third day of the strikes, the US Defence Department boasted that it had "achieved air supremacy over Afghanistan" (Did they mean that they had destroyed both, or maybe all 16, of Afghanistan's planes?)

On the ground in Afghanistan, the Northern Alliance – the Taliban's old enemy, and therefore the international coalition's newest friend – is making headway in its push to capture Kabul. (For the archives, let it be said that the Northern Alliance's track record is not very different from the Taliban's. But for now, because it's inconvenient, that little detail is being glossed over.) The visible, moderate, "acceptable" leader of the alliance, Ahmed Shah Masud, was killed in a suicide-bomb attack early in September. The rest of the Northern Alliance is a brittle confederation of brutal warlords, ex-communists and unbending clerics. It is a disparate group divided along ethnic lines, some of whom have tasted power in Afghanistan in the past.

Until the US air strikes, the Northern Alliance controlled about 5% of the geographical area of Afghanistan. Now, with the coalition's help and "air cover", it is poised to topple the Taliban. Meanwhile, Taliban soldiers, sensing imminent defeat, have begun to defect to the alliance. So the fighting forces are busy switching sides and changing uniforms. But in an enterprise as cynical as this one, it seems to matter hardly at all.

Love is hate, north is south, peace is war.

Among the global powers, there is talk of "putting in a representative government". Or, on the other hand, of "restoring" the kingdom to Afghanistan's 89-year old former king Zahir Shah, who has lived in exile in Rome since 1973. That's the way the game goes – support Saddam Hussein, then "take him out"; finance the Mojahedin, then bomb them to smithereens; put in Zahir Shah and see if he's going to be a good boy. (Is it possible to "put in" a representative government? Can you place an order for democracy – with extra cheese and jalapeno peppers?)

Reports have begun to trickle in about civilian casualties, about cities emptying out as Afghan civilians flock to the borders which have been closed. Main arterial roads have been blown up or sealed off. Those who have experience of working in Afghanistan say that by early November, food convoys will not be able to reach the millions of Afghans (7.5m, according to the UN) who run the very real risk of starving to death during the course of this winter. They say that in the days that are left before winter sets in, there can either be a war, or an attempt to reach food to the hungry. Not both.

As a gesture of humanitarian support, the US Government air-dropped 37,000 packets of emergency rations into Afghanistan. It says it plans to drop a total of 500,000 packets. That will still only add up to a single meal for half a million people out of the several million in dire need of food.

Aid workers have condemned it as a cynical, dangerous, public-relations exercise. They say that air-dropping food packets is worse than futile.

First, because the food will never get to those who really need it. More dangerously, those who run out to retrieve the packets risk being blown up by landmines. A tragic alms race.

Nevertheless, the food packets had a photo-op all to themselves. Their contents were listed in major newspapers. They were vegetarian, we're told, as per Muslim dietary law (!) Each yellow packet, decorated with the American flag, contained: rice, peanut butter, bean salad, strawberry jam, crackers, raisins, flat bread, an apple fruit bar, seasoning, matches, a set of plastic cutlery, a serviette and illustrated user instructions.

After three years of unremitting drought, an air-dropped airline meal in Jalalabad! The level of cultural ineptitude, the failure to understand what months of relentless hunger and grinding poverty really mean, the US Government's attempt to use even this abject misery to boost its self-image, beggars description.

Reverse the scenario for a moment. Imagine if the Taliban Government was to bomb New York City, saying all the while that its real target was the US government and its policies. And suppose, during breaks between the bombing, the Taliban dropped a few thousand packets containing nan and kebabs impaled on an Afghan flag. Would the good people of New York ever find it in themselves to forgive the Afghan Government? Even if they were hungry, even if they needed the food, even if they ate it, how would they ever forget the insult, the condescension? Rudi Guiliani, Mayor of New York City, returned a gift of $10m from a Saudi prince because it came with a few words of friendly advice about American policy in the Middle East. Is pride a luxury that only the rich are entitled to?

Far from stamping it out, igniting this kind of rage is what creates terrorism. Hate and retribution don't go back into the box once you've let them out. For every "terrorist" or his "supporter" that is killed, hundreds of innocent people are being killed too. And for every hundred innocent people killed, there is a good chance that several future terrorists will be created.

Where will it all lead?

Setting aside the rhetoric for a moment, consider the fact that the world has not yet found an acceptable definition of what "terrorism" is. One country's terrorist is too often another¹s freedom fighter. At the heart of the matter lies the world's deep-seated ambivalence towards violence.

Once violence is accepted as a legitimate political instrument, then the morality and political acceptability of terrorists (insurgents or freedom fighters) becomes contentious, bumpy terrain. The US Government itself has funded, armed and sheltered plenty of rebels and insurgents around the world.

The CIA and Pakistan's ISI trained and armed the Mojahedin who, in the '80s, were seen as terrorists by the government in Soviet-occupied Afghanistan. Today, Pakistan – America's ally in this new war – sponsors insurgents who cross the border into Kashmir in India. Pakistan lauds them as "freedom-fighters", India calls them "terrorists". India, for its part, denounces countries who sponsor and abet terrorism, but the Indian army has, in the past, trained separatist Tamil rebels asking for a homeland in Sri Lanka – the LTTE, responsible for countless acts of bloody terrorism.

(Just as the CIA abandoned the mujahideen after they had served its purpose, India abruptly turned its back on the LTTE for a host of political reasons. It was an enraged LTTE suicide bomber who assassinated former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi in 1989.)

It is important for governments and politicians to understand that manipulating these huge, raging human feelings for their own narrow purposes may yield instant results, but eventually and inexorably, they have disastrous consequences. Igniting and exploiting religious sentiments for reasons of political expediency is the most dangerous legacy that governments or politicians can bequeath to any people - including their own.

People who live in societies ravaged by religious or communal bigotry know that every religious text – from the Bible to the Bhagwad Gita – can be mined and misinterpreted to justify anything, from nuclear war to genocide to corporate globalisation.

This is not to suggest that the terrorists who perpetrated the outrage on September 11 should not be hunted down and brought to book. They must be.

But is war the best way to track them down? Will burning the haystack find you the needle? Or will it escalate the anger and make the world a living hell for all of us?

At the end of the day, how many people can you spy on, how many bank accounts can you freeze, how many conversations can you eavesdrop on, how many emails can you intercept, how many letters can you open, how many phones can you tap?

Even before September 11, the CIA had accumulated more information than is humanly possible to process. (Sometimes, too much data can actually hinder intelligence – small wonder the US spy satellites completely missed the preparation that preceded India's nuclear tests in 1998.)

The sheer scale of the surveillance will become a logistical, ethical and civil rights nightmare. It will drive everybody clean crazy. And freedom – that precious, precious thing – will be the first casualty. It's already hurt and haemorrhaging dangerously.

Governments across the world are cynically using the prevailing paranoia to promote their own interests. All kinds of unpredictable political forces are being unleashed. In India, for instance, members of the All India People's Resistance Forum, who were distributing anti-war and anti-US pamphlets in Delhi, have been jailed. Even the printer of the leaflets was arrested.

The rightwing government (while it shelters Hindu extremists groups such as the Vishwa Hindu Parishad and the Bajrang Dal) has banned the Islamic Students Movement of India and is trying to revive an anti-terrorist Act which had been withdrawn after the Human Rights Commission reported that it had been more abused than used. Millions of Indian citizens are Muslim. Can anything be gained by alienating them?

Every day that the war goes on, raging emotions are being let loose into the world. The international press has little or no independent access to the war zone. In any case, mainstream media, particularly in the US, have more or less rolled over, allowing themselves to be tickled on the stomach with press handouts from military men and government officials. Afghan radio stations have been destroyed by the bombing. The Taliban has always been deeply suspicious of the press. In the propaganda war, there is no accurate estimate of how many people have been killed, or how much destruction has taken place. In the absence of reliable information, wild rumours spread.

Put your ear to the ground in this part of the world, and you can hear the thrumming, the deadly drumbeat of burgeoning anger. Please. Please, stop the war now. Enough people have died. The smart missiles are just not smart enough. They're blowing up whole warehouses of suppressed fury.

President George Bush recently boasted, "When I take action, I'm not going to fire a $2m missile at a $10 empty tent and hit a camel in the butt. It's going to be decisive." President Bush should know that there are no targets in Afghanistan that will give his missiles their money's worth.

Perhaps, if only to balance his books, he should develop some cheaper missiles to use on cheaper targets and cheaper lives in the poor countries of the world. But then, that may not make good business sense to the coalition's weapons manufacturers. It wouldn't make any sense at all, for example, to the Carlyle Group – described by the Industry Standard as "the world's largest private equity firm", with $13bn under management.

Carlyle invests in the defence sector and makes its money from military conflicts and weapons spending.

Carlyle is run by men with impeccable credentials. Former US Defence Secretary Frank Carlucci is Carlyle's Chairman and Managing Director (he was a college roommate of Donald Rumsfeld's). Carlyle's other partners include former US Secretary Of State James A Baker III, George Soros and Fred Malek (George Bush Sr's campaign manager). An American paper ­The Baltimore Chronicle and Sentinel– says that former President George Bush Sr is reported to be seeking investments for the Carlyle Group from Asian markets.

He is reportedly paid not inconsiderable sums of money to make "presentations" to potential government-clients.

Ho hum. As the tired saying goes, it's all in the family.

Then there's that other branch of traditional family business – oil. Remember, President George Bush (Jr) and Vice-President Dick Cheney both made their fortunes working in the US oil industry.

Turkmenistan, which borders the north-west of Afghanistan, holds the world's third largest gas reserves and an estimated six billion barrels of oil reserves. Enough, experts say, to meet American energy needs for the next 30 years (or a developing country's energy requirements for a couple of centuries.) America has always viewed oil as a security consideration, and protected it by any means it deems necessary. Few of us doubt that its military presence in the Gulf has little to do with its concern for human rights and almost entirely to do with its strategic interest in oil.

Oil and gas from the Caspian region currently moves northward to European markets. Geographically and politically, Iran and Russia are major impediments to American interests. In 1998, Dick Cheney – then CEO of Halliburton, a major player in the oil industry – said, "I can't think of a time when we've had a region emerge as suddenly to become as strategically significant as the Caspian. It's almost as if the opportunities have arisen overnight." True enough.

For some years now, an American oil giant called Unocal has been negotiating with the Taliban for permission to construct an oil pipeline through Afghanistan to Pakistan and out to the Arabian sea. From here, Unocal hopes to access the lucrative "emerging markets" in South and South-east Asia. In December 1997, a delegation of Taliban mullahs travelled to America and even met US State Department officials and Unocal executives in Houston. At that time the Taliban's taste for public executions and its treatment of Afghan women were not made out to be the crimes against humanity that they are now.

Over the next six months, pressure from hundreds of outraged American feminist groups was brought to bear on the Clinton administration.

Fortunately, they managed to scuttle the deal. And now comes the US oil industry's big chance.

In America, the arms industry, the oil industry, the major media networks, and, indeed, US foreign policy, are all controlled by the same business combines. Therefore, it would be foolish to expect this talk of guns and oil and defence deals to get any real play in the media. In any case, to a distraught, confused people whose pride has just been wounded, whose loved ones have been tragically killed, whose anger is fresh and sharp, the inanities about the "clash of civilisations" and the "good vs evil" discourse home in unerringly. They are cynically doled out by government spokesmen like a daily dose of vitamins or anti-depressants. Regular medication ensures that mainland America continues to remain the enigma it has always been – a curiously insular people, administered by a pathologically meddlesome, promiscuous government.

And what of the rest of us, the numb recipients of this onslaught of what we know to be preposterous propaganda? The daily consumers of the lies and brutality smeared in peanut butter and strawberry jam being air-dropped into our minds just like those yellow food packets. Shall we look away and eat because we're hungry, or shall we stare unblinking at the grim theatre unfolding in Afghanistan until we retch collectively and say, in one voice, that we have had enough?

As the first year of the new millennium rushes to a close, one wonders – have we forfeited our right to dream? Will we ever be able to re-imagine beauty?

Will it be possible ever again to watch the slow, amazed blink of a newborn gecko in the sun, or whisper back to the marmot who has just whispered in your ear – without thinking of the World Trade Centre and Afghanistan?

[lordofhunger47]

Not Anymore

How do people describe Mabel Pines? To her Brother, she is the bright twin who always sees the bright side of everything, to her Grunkles she is the sunshine that never goes down, and to her friends, she is the girl who is always hopeful.

 

Yet, What is Mabel Pines to herself? There have been times that she had a self-image problem like her anticlimactic meeting with the unicorns, the beings who were considered the purest of all supernatural beings turned out to be  far  from the paragons of virtue they were painted as, just as flawed as humans. Guess even in the world of supernaturals some fantasies are just that, fantasies.

 

Or how some people view her as a silly girl too obsessed with glitters, yes Dipper wasn’t the only one who got bullied in schools. Sure, it wasn’t as bad as Dipper and she had a lot of friends, but still, she was a magnet for queen bees to mock her for being… herself, it is either her fashion sense or her attitude or whatever obscene reason they could think of. 

 

Despite all that, she passes the barriers with pride and optimism as she knows, that whatever happens, she will have her brother, her family, and her friends to support her. That was until the eventful summer.

 

During that summer vacation, Mabel and her twin saw wonders, made new friends, met people, and had 2 new family members whom they hold dear. However, it wasn’t all rainbow as Mabel hoped to be because she faced the dark parts of her life which she refused to acknowledge and masqueraded her willful ignorance as optimism. Even so, her attempts failed as reality crashed down on her like a hammer on a glass board.

 

Unicorns are jerks, not all people are good, life is not a romance novel, love is not cut and dry, and invading someone’s privacy even if it was for their own sake tends to do more harm than good as she realized when she learned about the deteriorated state of Tambry and Robbie’s relationship and that fiasco during the road trip leading to Candy’s heartbreak and her brother being bashed for her own mistakes   and the harshest of all, Change is inevitable.

As life shed their old skins, so as people. Her friends from Piedmont wore revealing clothes in their teenhood and kept gossiping to the point they were almost unrecognizable. Pacific, though still haughty, has developed into a better person and even become friends with Mabel. Grenada, one of her girl friends, had managed to live every girl’s fantasy and had a prince charming as her boyfriend. Wendy, the slacking cashier has started taking her studies seriously and even asked for Dipper’s aid in torturing her online. Speaking of Dipper, her brother was far from the nervous wreck he used to be, in fact, he put his bully in his place with his bare hands which made her both worried but also proud. Yet the most frightening of all changes was herself.

 

Don’t get wrong, at the core she is still the same girl who sees the glass as half full, yet she has changed either way. The old Mabel was into making gossip and talking about boys whereas the current Mabel has lost interest in any of that, the new Mabel no longer flirted with every boy she sees due to how jaded she become after her disaster of a summer romance, the present Mabel no longer obsessed with unicorns and the old Mabel was afraid of growing up.

 

Sometimes, Mabel like her male twin has nightmares of their time in the small town of Gravity Falls, often it involves a certain isosceles. Worst, she couldn’t talk about it to her parents knowing full well that at best they wouldn’t believe her and at worst she will never see that small town in Oregon ever again. On the plus side, she had her sibling to comfort her, as her friends from Gravity Falls and her Grunkles, although because of Stan and Ford’s adventures they aren’t always available.

 

Despite that, there was a particular detail she was afraid of telling them, her role in Weirdmaggedon. She saw how bad it was, but she only started to grasp how bad truly was when it was over. She heard horror stories from his friends and family, but still, that wasn’t even the worst part, no the worst part was when she learned that people died.

 

His family tried to hide that piece of knowledge from her; Nevertheless, they underestimated her as she learned later. The revelation hit her like cold water as she finally comprehend the weight of what had happened to her horror.

 

And after horror, it was guilt. A pang of gut-wrenching guilt threatens to cripple her. The fact that she sometimes hears her brother’s screams and nightmares only made it worse. She wanted to shout out and declare that she is guilty, yet the fear of how her friends and family would react kept her from doing that. How was it fair to trade the world for  one  more summer? How was it fair that others suffered but she got to live in her own fantasy? How was it fair that she got to live while others died? What kind of sister would replace her own brother for a yes man?

Those dark thoughts threaten to cripple her as it was eating her from inside. She tried to suppress it, yet all she managed to do was make it worse. She sought distractions in her passion for art, her love for Waddles, and even tried to listen to the annoying buzzing of her friends in Piedmont, chatting and fuzzing about new students, which boy is the most handsome and cosmetics. Old Mabel would enjoy those, Not the present-day Mabel.

 

In spite of all that, all she did was build a dam against a harsh tide, cracks started to show such as being less cheerful and that one time having a reaction to a newbie in school for his name being ‘Bill’, how ironic that this time she was the paranoid twin and not his brother. 

 

His twin was the first one to see the cracks, which was followed by their worried parents, except in the case of her parents she knew it is certainly that whether they would believe her or not, she and Dipper would be banned to set foot in Gravity Falls or ever be in contact with the Grunkles ever again. Not that their parents are bad though, they are decent and Mabel loves them, but let’s be honest, what kind of sane mother and father wouldn’t be horrified if they find out that their kids were in constant life-threatening situations and are scared for life? Things are already heated between her parents and her Grunkles after they learned about Stan’s fake death and switching identities between them minus the extramundane part, no need to add more fuel to the fire.

 

As for her dear sibling? She was too afraid to tell him and she felt that she already had taken him for too much granted and this is a burden she should carry by herself. Unknown to her that thanks to her suppression, there will be consequences.

 

“Huh? What is this?” Mabel replied as she was in the dark.

 

“Where am I?” Mabel questioned as she looked around, then she collided with a wall.

 

“Oops! Silly me” She moved past the wall, and despite the darkness, she could tell she entered a room “Now…where is the switch…” Mabel used her hand to search for the switch until she hit a switch and flickering light came, what she saw both surprised her and confused her.

 

The room she entered had a desk with her name on it with a window to a view that made her dread, what she saw beyond the window was the sight of something that looked like the love child of a carnival and one of those sparkly old cartoons, except there was no one, there were no sparks, the sky was dark and the whole place looked like a ghost town, that was then she realized she is in-

 

“MABELLAND?!” Mable exclaimed, she thought this place looked familiar, she was in the her-used-to-be room and what looked like the used-to-be room.

“But… I destroyed this place!” Mabel started walking backward, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts, ‘ What am I doing here?!’, ‘How is this possible!?’, ‘We left this place!’, ‘Wasn’t this place supposed to be no more?’ , ‘What if…I never left this place in the first place?!’  that last thought only made her panic worse, then she hit something from the back.

 

“SWEET SALLY!” Startled Mabel jumped back to see what he hit “Bro bro?” Mabel respond as she saw it was none other than her brother, Dipper Pines but from his back.

 

“Oh gosh, I nearly had a heart attack.” Mabel vocalized in relief.

 

“Did you mess with magic again? Or is this one of that typical weirdness we keep finding ourselves in?” Mabel questioned, yet Dipper was unresponsive.

 

“Bro?” Mabel called, but still no response.

 

“Okay broseph, you won I’m scared, now will you stop the prank?” Mabel remarked in annoyance, still no response, Dipper didn’t even turn back.

 

Mabel walks toward him slowly “Dipper?” She stated his name in worry, by walking close she noticed something odd, he wore glasses in the dark and Dipper had his tapping hat upside down, Dipper traded hats with Wendy and he doesn’t wear his hats upside down.

 

When she got nearer, her right hand came for his shoulder “Is everything all ri-” Dipper’s head rotated 180 degrees in a swift move which caused her to yep and fall, when Dipper slowly opened his eyes, her blood ran cold from what she saw as Dipper removed his sunglasses.

 

“HIYA SHOOTING STAR!” the pupils of his looked like cats with yellow scleras, his grin was disturbing wide and his voice was of none other than-

 

“BILL!?” Mabel shouted in fear.

 

“WAS THE MATTER? DID YOU MISS ME? ADMIT IT! YOU  MISSED ME!”  His last words became demonic as his body fell to thousands of worms and insects which attacked her.

“WAIT WAIT!_``Too late, she tried to run but the swarm devoured her like a blanket, she wanted to scream; however, she was unable to do so.

 

Then she finds herself in what looked like a court, it was the very court she had with Dipper in real life. Her first reaction was to startle and try to remove the swarm of insects that no longer appeared, after which she looked around.

 

“What the hey hey!?” Mabel uttered.

 

Then a light inside of the dark court shows up in the place of the judge, which is sat upon by the possessed Bill.

 

“SORRY, THE TRAVEL AGENCY CAN BE QUITE TOUCHY, GET IT? TOUCHY! HAHAHAHAHA!” Bill or Bipper cackled at his own joke.

 

“What have you done to my brother!?” Mabel yelled in anger and fear.

 

“NOTHING! I MEAN, DO YOU KNOW WHAT A HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE IT WAS TO POSSESS THAT BODY? I RATHER POSSESS A MOOSE THAN THAT MEAT SACK EVER AGAIN! AND DON’T TELL ME YOU FORGOT YOUR COOL BRO THIS SOON.” Bill poses to himself.

 

“My-” She looked again, and recognized that the body Bill had was none other than Dippy Fresh.

 

“Dippy Fresh?” Mabel replied.

 

“WELL, YOU DO WITH WHAT YOU HAVE.” Bill shrugged.

 

“How are you alive!? Grunkle Stan beat you!”

 

“BEAT ME IN THE BUSH!” 

 

“That’s not_!” then realization hit Mabel “Hehehe, Now I remember, I was asleep this isn’t real! I’m hallucinating…” Her giggles continued, “HAHA, Perfect! I’m going loony! This whole thing is just a fragment of my subconscious torturing me!” her giggles turn into laughter.

 

“MAYBE…OR MAYBE I'M YOUR CONSCIENCE! OR MAYBE I HAVE COME BEYOND DEATH TO HAUNT AND ACCOMPANY YOU AND MAKE A SHOW ABOUT IT!” Bill snaps his fingers, suddenly blue fires lit up around the court, and his clothes change to the ones he wore when he possessed Dipper.

“ I BET IT WOULD BE POPULAR WITH THE KIDS! THE GHOST AND MABEL PINES! TOTALLY PG FRIENDLY! NOT LIKE THOSE DISGUSTING FANFICS, MY FANS LOVE TO WRITE ABOUT ME!” Bill expressed in a way as if he wanted to vomit from saying those last words.

 

"What fanfics?" Mabel quizzed.

 

"ANYWAY! WHETHER IT IS REAL OR YOU HAVE GONE INSANE ISN'T THE ISSUE, WHAT IMPORTANT IS THIS COURT IS NOT FOR THE JUDGE, BUT THE SUSPECT! BY THE WAY! NO LAWYERS ARE ALLOWED, THEY ARE ICKY!" Bill points his hammer at Mabel.

 

"YOU ARE GUILTY OOOOF…."

 

drum sounds come from nowhere.

 

"INNOCENCE!" drums stopped and smacks his hammer.

 

A minute passes until Mabel states "I'm starting to see why Dipper hated my court…" Mabel wondered in bafflement at this ridiculousness.

 

"NO CHEERS? WHY? USUALLY, SUSPECTS ARE HAPPY WHEN THEY ARE PROVEN INNOCENT, UNLESS…" Bipper's grin turns malicious.

 

"YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING INNOCENT!" Bill snaps his finger again, this time a video of Mabel showing up which shows her putting a love portion in Tambry and Robbie's fries.

 

"OK time out! That ended well at the end." Mabel argued.

 

"NOT FROM WHAT WE HEARD OF YOUR TWISTED MASTERPIECE LAST TIME!" Bill retorted.

 

"Melody and Soos-" 

 

"TATATA! NOT COUNTING THAT, YOU ONLY ADVISED HIM, NOT PLANNING THEIR WEDDING!" Bill uses the hammer to point at Mabel as Mabel's hands lock together as she sits grumpily.

 

"BESIDES, THAT'S LIKE CONGRATULATING A KID FOR STEALING DRUGS AND USING THEM TO SLOW THE PAIN, BUT IF YOU AREN'T CONVINCED, THEN LET'S SHOW YOUR LAST "MATCHMAKINGS".

The Video shows the whole fiasco with Dipper during their road trip.

 

"I MEAN HYPOCRISY MUCH? YOU LITERALLY CONDEMNED PINE TREE FOR NOT AGREEING WITH YOUR MATCHMAKING AND DOING THE SAME THING YOU DO ON A DAILY BASIS!"

 

 

Then the video shows Mabel's advances toward boys and creeping them out, one time it shows Mabel giving a boy her 'Yes, Definity, Absolutely" paper to him, only for the boy to circle the N and the O together, hence Mabel's sour face.

 

" PFF�� HAHAHAHA! OH, THAT ONE SLAPS ME ON THE KNEE!" Bill slaps his knee to Mabel's soured face, which looks similar to the one from the picture shown.

 

"I get it, I get it! Invading others' privacy even if it is with good intentions rarely ends well, I learnt that!" Mabel refuted in irritation.

 

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU APOLOGIZE TO PINE TREE FOR MAKING HIM LOOK LIKE A PLAYBOY?" Bill vocalized with a smug face.

 

"I…I…"

 

"I!OH!I! BECAUSE MABEL PINES CAN'T ADMIT TO HER INFALLIBILITY!" Then the sound of 'Boooo!' Came from nowhere.

 

"That's wrong! I admitted to my faults before!" Mabel protested.

 

"LIKE THAT TIME YOU TRAPPED RED AND PINE TREE AND AFTER THAT YOU PROMISED TO NOT BE PUSHY?" The video shows Mabel during that Bunker exploration, Mabel cringes at that.

 

"OR MAYBE… WHEN YOU DEFEATED ME AND APOLOGIZED FOR BEING SELFISH!" The video shows the Sock Opera incident only to later show the times after which Mabel took Dipper for granted.

 

"I MEAN FROM ONE DECEIVER TO ANOTHER, YOU ARE TERRIBLE AT GIVING FALSE PROMISES, THIS LOOKS LIKE SOME STUPID EPISODES FROM A SATURDAY NIGHT CARTOON SHOW!" Bill gave his opinion on the art of deceiving.

 

"I'm not that person anymore, I've grown up!" Mabel snared.

 

"OH REALLY? THE GIRL WHO WAS AFRAID OF GROWING UP, NOW IS A FAN OF IT?" The video now plays Mabel being afraid of growing up.

"IF YOU ARE SOOOO "MATURE '' '' Two indexes of each of Bipper's hands come up moving up and down "THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF TELLING THEM OF OUR DEAL?"

 

The video pictures Mabel giving the rift to Blendin.

 

"Objection! I didn't even know it was you! Heck, I didn't even know what that thing was!" Mabel objected.

 

"ACCEPTABLE!" Bill uses the hammer to smack on the table to Mabel's amazement, not expecting to be heard "NOT THAT YOU HAD ANY CHANCE OF FIGURING ME OUT ANYWAY, BEING THE DUMB TWIN AND ALL THAT CLICHÉ…" Mabel glared at Bill, this court was striking her nerves.

 

"THEN LET'S SEE HOW YOU REACTED AFTER YOU FIGURED IT OUT!" The video manifests Mabel ignoring Dipper's claims about Bill's Weirdmaggedon, talking about how sucky real life is, and even threatening to throw Dipper out, this particular hit on Mabel as she looked down in shame.

 

"TO BE FAIR, THE WHOLE INGENIOUS BUBBLE IDEA OF MINE, WAS TO KEEP YOU STAY BY GIVING YOU WHAT YOU WANTED, WHICH SAYS A LOT ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU VALUE YOUR BELOVED TWIN!" Bipper with a snap changes his clothes into Dippy Freshs'.

 

Mabel now felt even more guilty as the guilt washes her.

 

"PEOPLE IN MABEL'S WORLD ARE GOOD ONLY AS LONG AS THEY GROVEL UNDER HER FEET!" Bill makes a malevolent grin and the video shows Dipper giving up on his apprenticeship with Ford "JUST. LIKE. ME!" His eyes go red as the fire around and a blue fire burns the video.

 

Bill or rather Bipper grows larger all of sudden which causes the chair and the table of the judge to be broken, Mabel reacts by frantically running from the giant Bipper as he follows her with multiple hands growing out of him. Mabel ran toward the door to get away from the grinning multi-hand monster; nonetheless, Bill had no plan to let her escape as the door closed before Mabel could get out, leaving her at the mercy of her mockery of her brother’s flesh.

 

“THERE IS NO HIDING NOW! THIS PLACE IS NOW YOUR PENANCE!” then a giant sledgehammer materializes in two of his right arms.

 

“AND YOU ARE JUDGED! GUILTY!” The Sludgehammer falls on Mabel.

 

"OBJECTION!" Mabel yelled just before her head touched it as she closed her eyes in fear.

 

"YES?" Bill questioned.

Mabel carefully opens her eyes "If Mabelland was designed to hold me, doesn't that mean it would be much more elaborate to hold me by giving me what I thought I needed instead of what I truly needed?"

Mabel inquired.

 

Mumbling sounds came out of nowhere, whereas Bill looked around.

 

"And true, my words are empty but what about actions?" Mabel inquired again.

 

Then a video plays near the end of the summer where Mabel gives Dipper a journal to write on.

 

"How about that time I ditched my So-Called-Friends at school for making fun of Dipper?" 

 

Mabel grabbed the collar of one queen bee and angrily threatened her.

 

"Or that time I essentially committed social suicide by distracting everyone from seeing Dipper with ruined clothes?”

 

It now shows Mabel making a fool out of herself by acting crazy by trying to eat a boy's head, while Dipper runs away with holes all over his clothes, turns out he was experimenting in a Chemistry lab with no one's supervision, good thing he always brings spare clothes.

 

"Or how about my conversation about future plans?"

 

The screen now shows Dipper and Mabel conversing with each other in their house.

 

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there."

 

"But-"

 

"Me accepting Great Uncle Ford's apprenticeship was a heat-of-the-moment thing; besides, do you really think our parents would allow me or us to spend the rest of our childhood with someone who is a complete stranger to them? Just because I intend to spend the rest of my childhood with you doesn't mean I don't have plans and aspirations, you have yours as well, as long as we don't let that jeopardize our relationship and learn to balance things out, we won't end up like our Grunkles, are you ready to face the unknown?"

"...Nope! But hey, who is?" Mabel smiled and fist pumped with Dipper.

 

Mabel smiled at that particular memory, "I may use to be selfish, but not anymore I ain't! because I grow up" Mabel declared in triumph.

 

"OH, THAT ALMOST REACHED MY NONEXISTING BLOOD PUMP DRIVE…OH WELL, TIME TO WAKE!" Bill readies his sledgehammer.

 

"WAIT WAIT!" Mabel shouted.

 

SMACKED

 

"YAHOO!"

 

Mabel wakes up in her bed.

 

"Woah, what's it?" Dipper wakes up in worry.

 

" * phew * nothing, just some weird dream…" Mabel replied in relief.

 

"Oh by the way, sorry for the whole road trip thing bro, that was hypocritical of me."

 

Dipper was startled by the unexpected apology and looked at Mabel weirdly "Okaaay, a bit random, but thanks anyway." Dipper lay down to bed.

 

"Good night."

 

"Nighty night."

 

And thus both fall asleep, 'Not today, but one day I will tell them about the rift.' Mabel reassured herself internally, only for Mabel to realize that technically their room's window is triangle shaped, thus she hard a hard time sleeping.

 

'Damn you, Bill!'  Internally cursed Bill.

Note:I may be a hard critic of Mabel's character, but that is only because I believe she didn't reached her potential as a co-protagonist and was cuddled too much( The Author's favorite pet syndrome).

The only time I actually disliked Mabel was the infamous Roadside Attraction episode.

[angelicminds]

🖊️

any oc(s) you feel like talking about, I still don't know them

HIIIII (omg so excited hihi)

Because you don't know any of them, let me introduce the three main characters first and then explain a bit more for one!! They all come from my wip Kindness Of Paradise.

Eden: 16, roots in Grenada, exploring her sexuality. Eden is a cheerful, fearless girl in secondary school. Loves disco music, overalls, and roller skating. Develops a major crush on her childhood friend turned enemy Alena.

Alena: 16, roots in Slovenia, lesbian (not out the closest). Alena is a quirky, lovely little thing. Loves Pink Floyd, bright colours and skateboarding. Hates Eden at the moment, good friends with Daniel.

Daniel: 16, roots in England, "never liked someone before". Daniel is a charming and gentle soul. He's a flirt but doesn't know why he is that way. Loves book, skateboarding and classical music (don't tell Alena that).

Okay so for Eden! My main character, it will be in her pov. She only recently started to like Alena, even though they have known each other for the eight years. They were closer than family, until it all fell apart. Eden has been lost ever since and has become a shell. She gets even lower grades than usually, barely talking to a soul. Her parents are very worried about her, until Eden realizes she is in love with Alena.

[azunite2016]

Tumblr make it stop.

Now a serious post, tumblr I beg of you, make it stop. Immediately. At this very moment it is impossible to be excited when new people follow me, because every single time I get a notification of a disgusting bot account with a random profile picture of a girl posing or twerking and the description is just as random as everything else, things like: single😃animal🐇lover💜grenada💌 or whatever the fuck... Just make a better algorithm or code to ban bot accounts they are everywhere and keep following me. If I haven't blocked them, I'd have around 10+ bots accounts following, none of which will help or make me fell any better about it. Not only that, one of these bots accounts have Private Messaged me suggesting some random p*rn site or suggestive content, so they're getting better by the day...

[katlimeart]

Made in 2016 + 2018

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as various girls

1. Charlotte Elbourne (Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust) - requested by ladytrisha08

2. Relena Darlian (Mobile Suit Gundam Wing) - requested by roseprincessmitia

3. Sakura (Tsubasa Chronicles) - requested by tommypezmaste

4. Tamaki Kawazow (Bamboo Blade) - requested by tommypezmaster

5. Cutie Honey (Cutie Honey Flash) - requested by jeanette9a

6. Grenada (Battle Spirits Sword Eyes) - requested by roseprincessmitia

7. Lala (Mahou no Stage Fancy Lala) - requested by miaknhikari

8. Shirayuki (Snow White with the Red Hair) - requested by tommypezmaster

9. Iroha Tamaki (Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record) - requested by luigi-totty-girl

10. Jeanne (Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne) - requested by jeanette9a