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#oh golly gee i probably should tag this
wendigot33th · 18 days
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Ough I got 100 likes on a post I should just make sure the only people who interact with me are epic. Guess I gotta make a pin post oh golly oh gee.
What to like here
Me! Im an autistic as shit TGirl and probably schizotypal, I will post about anything I like at random and with zero sorting besides tags because people making whole ass new tags just to split up Thier blogs confuses me.
As a whole, I like cool art of the stuff I like. I also like shit memes and people who can sorta *direct* a text pose with GREAT style.
I build Bionicle mocs and post them here too but it's pretty rare because I have like less than like 300 pieces total and I'm too skittish to post what I believe is the 98473864th variant of... whatever I made.
Disco Elysium is a favorite. Art of its skills and characters help me try and visualize my own skills and maybe help me live my life better. (Try it out, put Volition in your head and he will help you)
HDG. If you know what that is expect to see me post about it from time to time. Also, for all intentions and purposes, anything found inside an HDG story is usually what I'm into. So if you don't like HDG your not gonna like my horny ass, just focus on the not so horny maybe or just leave idc.
Also delicious in dungeon looks pretty good. Can't watch it but it looks neat.
This isn't exactly a *horny blog* more so as a human being I'm horny. So expect a bunch of unfunny "oohg reblog if you like chicken strips and HOT GAY T4T SEX" that shit is hilarious to me and I don't know why.
DNI bullshit
Please don't touch me if you hate people for literally no reason. Like if you hate someone for a reason that can't be explained by intentional hurtful/disrespectful actions towards you, fuck off. I don't want that vibe here.
Please go away if you don't like girls with balls, Or men with huge tits. I'm pre everything and I don't need to hear your batshit takes about how I'm actually not what I am or whatever. Just tell me to die and leave. it's not worth either of our time or energy to pretend like you found a skin walker and larp on and on about how I'm a truly wretched beast. I will just masturbate to your messages.
Please piss off if your like a terf or whatever. Y'all are just jealous we have more swag and can pull off better styles than you while fucking super hot dudes.
(on a side note, if any of y'all see that I reblogged something a terf or whatever sick person made,LET ME KNOW!!!! I will DESTROY IT IMMEDIATELY! I'm not very smart whatsoever and I make mistakes! Help me out!)
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ceilingfan5 · 2 years
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#2 for the prompts for fun and profit if you're so inclined? :0
To be honest, Kravitz has been home all day. Hasn’t even opened the blinds. So when he sees the text, he kind of thinks it’s one of Taako’s dumb pranks. 
“Hey I know you’re pretty busy but would you like to defeat the invading aliens with me, please answer quickly things are kind of time-sensitive???” 
Kravitz re-reads the text several times, and finds it making no more sense the seventh go round. So, tentatively, he replies, after he’s finished practicing the cello for today. 
“Elaborate?”
Taako’s reply is quicksilver slick and doesn’t give a lot more information:
“You, me, aliens, destruction of humanity avoided?”
Kravitz puzzles as he digs through the fridge for a snack. Maybe it’s an invitation…to…something. Laser tag, maybe. A date? Kravitz’s stomach flutters. They haven’t been on a proper date yet, even though they’ve been making eyes at each other for weeks. They went on half of a double date. Is this another one of those? He’s been aching to make it up. And especially to have time after, for a goodbye kiss, or more. 
“Is this a date?”
“Well shit Krav I dunno,” Taako replies, which is not exactly encouraging. And following that, “Dude have you or have you not looked out the fucking window today???????????”
That’s an excessive amount of question marks, even for Taako, and Kravitz frowns in the middle of checking to see if his grapes have gone yucky or nah. He plomps them in the sink and re-reads the texts. 
That would be crazy, wouldn’t it? Surely he’d notice fuckin’ War of the Worlds 2: 2 Electric 2 Boogaloo? He almost doesn’t want to look. But he probably should, right? What’s the worst that could happen, one of Taako’s dorky friends there with a whipped cream pie or something? That idiot would have been standing there for a while, probably would have fallen asleep. 
So like, the worst possibility would be embarrassing himself. Or, you know, actual aliens raining death from the sky, no biggie. 
Kravitz looks at the grapes, some of which are leaning decidedly toward yucky. He looks at the drawn blinds. 
He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, though, is the thing. He certainly doesn’t want Taako to laugh at him. What’s he supposed to do, play along with Taako, or call him on it? It’s always so hard to tell. Taako is so handsome and weird and goofy and clever in the strangest way, and Kravitz wants to laugh with him, not be the butt of the joke. Put it on a t-shirt. I am not the butt. Please do not make me the butt. Thank you. 
You know, Kravitz thinks, as his phone buzzes with more texts from Taako, that t-shirt would probably be entirely counterproductive. 
He opens the blinds.
He shuts the blinds. 
He sits on the floor, forgetting the yucky grapes and the butt shirt entirely. 
“So did you have like an anti-alien plan or are we like winging this one pretty severely?”
“Oh nah we super are winging this so like, now that you’re on the same fucking page, dweebus, are you going to help or no?”
“In my defense,” Kravitz huffs quietly to himself, even though Taako won’t hear it. He sends the energy along with the text and hopes it reads regardless. “I was playing the cello.”
“OH YEAH THAT’LL FUCKIN’ DEFEAT EM. YEAH SHOOT I CAN’T FAULT YOU THERE KRAV, GOLLY GEE HOW COULD I BERATE YOU NOW, KNOWING THIS INFO U HAVE SO SWEETLY BESTOWED ON MY FRONT PORCH, FLAMING DOG TURD THO IT IS.”
“You’ve got me there. How about I meet you at the corner, and if we survive this, you kiss me?”
“Yeah why the FUCK not. Alien date. You’re payin.”
Yeah, okay, he deserves that one. 
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phoebehalliwell · 2 years
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Ok ok ok do you think the next gen (plus your lovely non-canon next gen ocs like the twins, Dency, and her crew) would go to Pride? What would their experiences at Pride be like?
okay okay okay okay okay
wyatt - gay - i think wyatt was one of those kids who knew he was gay from like. elementary school age like young and i think that like lowkey scared piper in the sense like oh my god how do i be a progressive mom like how do i like umm you know like how do i like gay good!! aaaaaaaa um. so i think you know i think there are a million and one gay witch couples so like you know piper and leo like idk meet up with one of leo's old charges maybe leo was like a whitelighter for this one gal and then she had kids so leo was a whitelighter for them as well and one of them is a lesbian and she lives with her partner (also a witch) in the castro and piper and leo are like hi. you're gay. to which they're like yes?? and they're like. how. like. how would you like to be raised. like. if you were. if you were say you were nine right now and also a boy and also our son and you just came out as gay, how would you like to be raised. like what would you like your parents to do. so i think wyatt grew up in like a super supportive environment occasionally just a lil too supportive you know like not everything's a gay thing we don't need to bring it up all the time but also wyatt does bring it up all the time so hey. i think he definitely like bought a big ol pride flag for his room and has multiple like t shirts and stuff and joined the local gsa so when pride comes around it's a Whole Thing and since you know he's so young he's in like middle school gsa not all parents are like too keen to like turn their kids lose upon pride like you know they're all just like twelve no need to set them lose upon the city type vibes so for those whose parents are against it (or for those who are still in the closet) i think wyatt hosts a pride party (something piper goes all out for as far as cooking goes it's ridiculous--and you should see what paige and phoebe do to the manor it's the whole kit and caboodle) which ends up become a traditions so those from like middle school and high school and college all that that he keeps in touch with i think he still hosts pride parties just as kind of an old tradition (and i think piper still bakes pride flag cookies every june)
chris - queer (both sexuality and gender) - tbh unlike wyatt i think it took chris a very very long time for the other shoe to drop bc like yes he has a very gay brother but like wyatt has always easily fit in a binary. like he has always been very strongly male and he has always been very strongly gay like wyatt's identity has never been fluid so i think like w chris realizing that he is queer is just you know like um. honestly i don't even know. that gradual realization of wait. is this not how the rest of y'all are? pride for chris i think is a much more subtle thing than it is for wyatt i mean he still fucking loves piper's pride cookies i mean who doesn't but he's less of a flag guy less of a parade guy but a lot of local artists to a lot more like you know like gay art as far as like one person shows and poetry readings and concerts and all that and i think that's very much chris's speed he doesn't consider himself an artsy type at all he doesn't consider himself creative which is pretty funny bc the way he practices magic so clearly stands in disagreement w his persona viewpoint but he fucking loves like consuming art that's easily his favorite thing about june (bc it sure a s hell isn't the weather he wakes up and it's not like in the mid 40's he's like hey what the fuck?)
melinda - demisexual - okay tbh i really only put this there for this particular headcanon bc while i’d like melinda to be queer i have not decided what her identity is per se tho i will say i’m fond of the idea of demisexual bc it is just so personal and so intimate especially for an empath like you can always feel other people’s feelings you always know how people feel about you and you can feel sexual attraction as others experience it but to only have that really happen to you once you feel like super like about someone like. like to finally like feel that yourself. idk i think that could be interesting. anyways. i think melinda has always loved wyatt’s little pride parties (more than she’s loved pj’s (don’t tell pj)) bc they’re just so like. silly. like everyone there is so giggly and just carefree and playful and it just feels silly. like. endorphins. in my writings she’s got a whitelighter her name is effie and she is posing as melinda’s RA in college meaning she gets to you know host little pride events for at the very least the dorm hall which i think melinda gets really into she’s really like her mother in that party planning sense they bring in her roommate ale who’s a total creative type you know full nine yards together that trio concocts so many cute lil ideas
kat - lesbian - kat is also one of those kids who knew they were gay pretty early like by the end of elementary school she was like yes... i like girls... but you know like a year or two into middle school she was like oh! i don’t like boys. which was the real revelation for her i think she was a bit of a gsa kid early on but there were just a bit too many personalities there for her liking she would consistently butt heads with other figures trying to establish themselves as the leader (she may or may not have issues w authority) so she kinda abandoned that i think kat much like her lovely aunt phoebe is a bit of a serial dater so rarely does a pride month pass where she doesn’t have a girlfriend most of the girls she dates are not girls she goes to high school with but rather girls she goes to magic school with which i personally think magic school’s “district” is just like. the western portion of america reaching into the mountains and then there are a couple students there from you know elsewhere bc i think well tangent time (it’s a small tangent i swear!) i think most well established magical families don’t send their kids to school i mean it is in essence public school and they would much rather teach their kids in the ways of their family from their sacred book rather than send them to some school to learns god knows what so like the montanas and calloways and even for a really long time the warren line did not send their kids to school however with the charmed ones taking over magic school (which is why it’s now affectionately dubbed “charm school”) a couple more established magical families are like hey let me get in on that and paige would love to be like no go to your own local school but the elders are like come on what’s it to you it literally doesn’t matter let em in so there are a couple students from like. all over the world. tangent over basically kat loves to travel to explore the world so i think pride month for her is her & her girlfriend exploring san francisco w kat playing tour guide and then going to whatever hometown her gf is from and doing the exact same thing technically it’s really no different from any other month in the year but kat does definitely secretly look forward to being openly and annoyingly gay she thinks it’s really fun (she gets incredibly annoyed when people don’t immediately clock her as a lesbian she’s like don’t i look like a lesbian?? and tamora’s like ??? and henry’s like no u just like like a girl who has pinterest which lmao lowkey stung but really any opportunity kat gets to be like long live the lesbians!! is a good opportunity)
tamora - she’s straight lmao - you always need one token straight. that being said i think she has a lot of gay friends or at least she did in high school they all kind of went off to college and she stayed home and they kind of fell out of touch bc well what can she say tam’s not great at communication and to be perfectly honest she was never really integral in any friend groups so she’ll still comment “so cute❣❣❣” on instagram posts but thats about where communication stops and starts for her but since the friend pack would always go to pride she would usually tag along just for funsies and like the free fucking capital one pens or whatever. 
henry - bi - honestly? i don’t think henry does that much for pride. like pj always throws some type of party(ies) and he’ll always attend those and he’ll go to like sf pride and all that and if need be he’ll assist pj in her party planning but really the only difference for him is that the social events he attends fly more flags. like don’t get me wrong it’s not like he dislikes pride month or anything not remotely (tho rainbow capitalism is a whole nother story tamora has caught that earful seven ways to sunday he fucking hates that shit) but yeah he himself does not change his energy at all for pride month he just brings his cute lil gay ass to wherever the party is and lights up the room. done and done.
pj - bi - oh my god don’t even get my fucking started. okay okay okay. so she’s in asb right associative (?) student body so obviously planning school pride events? super important to her. she’s technically in gsa but very very rarely graces a meeting with her presence due to her schedule. she is however in a group chat w the gsa leaders in order to best plan the mixer dance between all the local school’s gsas. beyond that, magic school. duh. obviously needs events. this gets to be very different from high school’s stuff because she gets to use ~magic~ so it’s even more fun of a challenge. oh, and then, of course, like, her social life, obviously she needs to throw some parties like not through an educational institution. and remember how wyatt’s were these lowkey just super fun super casual get togethers aint nothing but a thing don’t even worry about it? yeah. that’s not how pj rolls. peyton has gotten super good at telekinetically moving tiny particles bc she always gets practice trying to clear glitter of her corner in the couch next morning. and of course i haven’t even touched on the cupid part. we’ll get to that
parker - ace - love pj’s parties hated planning pj’s parties other than offering opinions on the guest list. pj’s like should i do like a soda fountain should i try to get a soda fountain is that too much cans are probably just easier but it’s not as fun also if you can mix drinks at a mixer right right but idk it’s a lot of effort so if it’s not gonna land maybe i don’t want to and parker is just like. the little spinning beachball on the computer. whatever you want to happen, it’s not happening here. that being said both her & pj love to meddle, and both her and pj can physically see love. now, they don’t have the power to slip through cracks in time or speak to other’s subconsciouses, their witch half kinda screws with their cupid powers in that sense, so they’re not “full” cupids, but they can still see if there’s a connection and then just speak to the conscious. no mind reading necessary. in general, the cupitches run a betting pool on relationships; there’s a whiteboard with names, some potential pairs and bets on when they’ll finally get together, others established couples with guesses on the expiration date. peyton doesn’t play bc she just got to high school and doesn’t know these people, also she thinks it’s weird. melinda will play using her empathy powers, henry will play bc it’s fun. and then there’s a pride edition. there’s a whiteboard and on it a list of a whole bunch of single gays may 31st you place your initial claims and they go in your section of the whiteboard you can add on people throughout the month if you’d like they just can’t already be someone else’s charge. then the matchmaking begins. the goal? help these kids find love. whoever has made the most matches that survive through the end of june wins (henry works on the “mortal scale” as it’s dubbed, his number is always multiplied by 2 (he’s arguing for 2.5) because he can’t see love or teleport which puts a damper on how fast he can pair together couples. winner gets something like $100. pj normally wins, but parker is hot on her tail. it’s difficult forcing premonitions for personal gain, but uhh it’s not personal gain if she uses it to find people love (right??) so she frequently tries to get visions of what couples will form on their own to boost her bets
peyton - questioning - little baby peyton. idk what she is. i have no idea. she likes going to magic school’s pride events tho. those are fun. she doesn’t like pj’s parties. those are overwhelming. henry usually goes to pride with his pack of friends and they can be a bit loud so usually tamora will take her to pride. she like seeing all the love though. sometimes she’ll put on a big ol pair of heart shaped sunglasses so no one can see how out of focus her eyes are and go to one of those events in the park that just has like a bunch of like old gay couples in their like 60s and stuff and she’ll just look at all the love she thinks it’s the sweetest thing
dency - queer - dency’s like pj except she has less friends. no offence. she loves planning an absolute rager. she doesn’t do any of the asb type things she was never class president or anything close to that my god so there are never any school sanctioned events but she does have an in at a super cool club turned bar that’s still kind of a club [see this post for more info!] so she’s like lads. we gotta throw a rager. i think she definitely goes to pride with her friends dressed in some of the most ridiculous outfits you’ve ever seen
dove - bi - complete opposite of dency in the sense that multiple like you know queer advocacy groups and all that will host fundraisers and she’s like look you want real money ditch the ugly screen printed cotton tshirts and stupid fucking face painting booth and host a gala. so dove will frequently throw those together dency is forced to be in attendance and look nice because usually when dove says you have to come to this rich people thing she lets dency look like dency bc she find it incredibly funny watching the rich people squirm but for this she’s like it’s for the little gay kids so best behavior now.
penn - straight - penn gets a mini section just to state that she’s always at dove’s stupid galas bc piper’s restaurant always caters for these things and she works as a chef in piper’s restaurant something very few people know and she spends the entire thing dodging conversations with rich people (remind her too much of the insufferable elders) and avoiding dove and dency
and then just a section for the w&s household just because they [warren, sheridan, keyboards, jenny] all live together. and then monica and luz are over so frequently they practically live there too. for starters, and kinda pride thing that’s like we have live music odd are the band’s on that poster towards the bottom in the extra small font a) bc you gotta get your name out there b) keyboards being both gay (used as an umbrella term) and trans is really big on the whole gay rights thing. jenny is genderqueer and bi but is also a bit of a loner so wouldn’t do as much as keyboards does bc keyboards knows too many people but she still loves to tear it up. warren is bi and also a slut he Loves this month. monica and luz to like tarot and palm and tea leaf readings at any events. sheridan is the honorary straight person but honestly he’s been surrounded w gay people all this life that this is just the norm. he finds that bi women are very into him, monica says it’s because he’s blond which is “a feminine trait fr”
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uitzinnigmp3 · 3 years
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#me: oh I'll take a break from social media and see if it helps my mental state#me: literally still goes on discord every day but won't let myself reply to the messages#me: now why am i feeling so frustrated and angry?? gee golly i wonder#literally i am so stupid <3#also hhh i'm mad that my gifsets aren't doing well.. as if they ever are#but like. 14 notes... after almost 10 hours.. i mean come on#it's a fucking themed week as well how is no one seeing this i tagged the right things !!!!#i mean theyre not getting reblogged by any big blogs anyway#i should really just fucking quit giffing i stg it's only making me angry#no i shouldnt only care about notes i fucking know that but i still do it! bc i'm self-centered and crave attention yup#hate my life i should just deactivate all my socials i think that would fix me#(it probably wouldnt but it would be a Great step in the right direction.)#(i won't do it anyway im too fucking dependent on people online since i have no friends irl <3 love life)#it's funny how i keep complaining about this and yet i never try to change things about it. oh well#i hate life and i don't want to put an effort into fixing it. see my problem#don't want to or can't. which is it and is there a difference..#hate therapy too it feels so fucking pointless even though i know it takes time#i just cannot talk about myself and my feelings i am fucking shit at it my mind just blanks at the simplest fucking questions#'so how do you feel when your friends ignore you' (the 'you think' is silent but definitely included)#me: uhhh idk fuckin... sad or something? yea#literally i have no idea what my thoughts and emotions even are. who knows what i am thinking at any given moment? not me thats for sure!!#anygays i need to put a stop to this thanks for tuning into daily breakdowns w sas#am now going to bed at 9:30. literally wanted to go to bed at 8 because i was so fucking exhausted#oh also. am on my period. this is a terrible set of circumstances i fucking hate it here#rant#so sorry for everyone who read all the way to here ily
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makeste · 4 years
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BnHA Chapter 289: Looks Like the Gang’s All Here
Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “you guys don’t really need to know what’s gonna happen to Deku and Shouto right now” and cut away to Toga and Ochako before anyone could get a word in. Skeptic utilized the power of Freak Shounen Coincidence to magically zero in on Ochako and Tsuyu amongst the fleeing crowd. Toga was all “IS THAT OCHAKO” and immediately leaped down to fight them, ignoring Spinner’s heartfelt speeches about Villain Found Family because fight now, hug later!! Down in the streets of some unidentified crumbling city, Ochako was approached by a sweet old lady and was all “I better help this sweet old lady who is definitely not leading me into a trap”, which unfortunately turned out to be poor decision-making on her part. Anyway so now she and Toga are going to throw down. AND ALSO, P.S., BEST JEANIST IS STILL ALIVE, and that doesn’t really have anything to do with anything right now, but BY GOLLY I JUST HAD TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS.
Today on BnHA: Iida and Hadou are all “is it our turn yet”, and Horikoshi is all “yes”, and so the two of them finally burst onto the scene and are all “hello Shouto, Gigantomachia is on his way, btw do you need help” and so they all get ready to fight Tomura together. Meanwhile in Unnamed Ochako And Toga Fight Town, Toga is all “what’s up Ochako, oh is this the All Might doll Deku gave you, I guess you must like Deku as well, just like me, we truly are the same, btw I can use other people’s quirks now” before she vanishes in a flurry of knives and ambiguity, as mysteriously as she came. So that’s a thing that happened. The chapter ends with Gigantomachia and the League STOMPIN’ ONTO THE SCENE, JUST IN TIME FOR ENDEAVOR TO WAKE UP AND BE ALL “OHHHHH SHIT.” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT, “OH SHIT.” Finally the pieces are in place for Dabi to reveal his true identity to Hadou and Iida, JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED.
before I start, thank you so much to everyone who sent birthday messages on Wednesday!! I had a good day; my quarantine impulse purchase guitar that I ordered months ago but had been backordered finally arrived, and so now I can do something productive with my time as I continue to while away these months in isolation! not to say that capslocking over fictional characters and their shounen escapades doesn’t also count as being productive lmao. anyways, my fingers hurt so typing is kind of a bitch right now, but I’m having fun still. IF KAMINARI CAN DO IT THEN SO CAN I
anyway so let’s see what mishaps my various catastrophe-prone children are getting up to this week
okay there are several things happening in this panel which I want to comment on
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IIDA!!!
HADOU!!!
“some time after” jesus fucking christ though, how long have Deku and the rest actually been fighting?? like it’s absolutely absurd to imagine that they’ve been managing to hold off Tomura for more than a few minutes, and yet everything we’ve seen these last couple of chapters suggests that this is indeed the case. which is just pure insanity tbh. excuse me sir, but I have an emotionally maturing son, a homewrecking grandpa, and a sleep-deprived one-legged platonic husband who are all in DIRE NEED of medical attention just FYI
lastly, I direct your attention to these two cool cats in the background who are both riding on hover surfboards. living it up like it’s Back to the Future. why are there two of them. do they both just happen to have the exact same quirk. what are the odds. ARE THEY TWINS. I want to know everything about them dammit
anyway so Hadou is asking Iida why he’s tagging along, because unlike the others, he can’t fly and is thus vulnerable to Tomura’s attacks and such
well Hadou I’ll have you know that it his DUTY AS THE CLASS PRESIDENT to tag along and THAT’S WHY
oh shit you guys IIDA SAID “FUCK THE LAW”
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“plus Bakugou-kun, whom I am not particularly close to, but nonetheless hold nothing personal against!” well uh, kind of a weird distinction to make there bro, but okay. listen everyone, it’s a tense situation; if Iida feels the need to clarify the ins and outs of his interpersonal relationships with each of the people he’s rescuing then please just respect that okay
anyways though have I mentioned how much I fucking love Iida Tenya though you guys. feels like I haven’t mentioned that enough. I LOVE HIM. there
FINALLY
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AFTER THREE WHOLE WEEKS WE FINALLY CUT BACK. OH MY GOD. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG OF A TIME THAT IS TO BE HOLDING YOUR BREATH. [EXHALES]
is it bad that my immediate reaction to this page was A LOT OF LAUGHING, though. fkldlksh this entire situation is SO ABJECTLY TERRIBLE that if I were Shouto I would almost be fighting the urge to look around for a hidden camera at this point. ASHTON KUTCHER WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE. OH THANK GOD, IT WAS ALL JUST A PRANK
anyway so uh. heh. how screwed are we at this point, exactly. oh and also, whose speech bubbles are these. who the fuck would look at this situation and these bleeding children and say “HA!” what kind of monster. just ignore that paragraph right before this one please
OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT
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TOMURA I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT PLEASE LISTEN TO AFO FOR ONCE AND JUST LEAVE
pretty please. we kind of have a situation here. not that I wouldn’t love to see what this icy flamey boi could do if push came to shove, but I also have had just about enough of watching children get maimed for today though
OH SHIT
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THE TIMING OF THIS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE AT ALL BUT I DO NOT CARE!! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED THANK GOD
“WHAT UP GUYS, WE BROUGHT YOU SOME TERRIBLE NEWS” FKLSHLKHLK
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WELL GEE IIDA THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH!!
lmaoooo a wild Lida has been spotted what the fuck is this translation though
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I don’t know which is better, the “Lida” (DO YOU EVEN READ THE SERIES BRO), or the “CHRIST” gkfhkg. CLASSIC LIDA
OH SNAP HADOU
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sobbing at Manual cradling the still-warm corpse of Gran Torino like a tiny baby khlk;h. BUT ANYWAYS HADOU SAW HER TEACHER ALL BLOODIED UP AND IS READY TO THROW DOWN, YESSSSS, THE MY LADIES ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES
(ETA: listen you guys, there were many things at the end of this chapter that brought me joy, but perhaps none more than the inclusion of Hadou in the final two page spread looking all serious alongside the Todorokis, as if she has any fucking clue at all wtf is going on slfkhlkhgghsl. what I wouldn’t give to see her and Deku and Iida all making frantic bewildered eye contact at each other throughout the next chapter lmao.)
GOD FUCKING DAMMIT DEKU
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ARE YOU PROPPING YOURSELF UP WITH YOUR ARM THAT’S IN SPLINTERS, I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW. SOMEONE PLEASE SLAP SOME SENSE INTO THIS CHILD. SIT YOUR ASS DOWN
LMAO TODO’S READY TO TAKE AFOMURA ON. THE SHARED HERO BRAINCELL HAS ALREADY EXPIRED. FUCK IT LET’S DO THIS
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“true, I already watched him murder my dad, my boyfriend, my other boyfriend, my teacher, and dozens of other people, but gosh darn it, I just feel like the fifteenth time’s the charm you guys.” shit, I ain’t even mad. who’s up for yet another episode of Todoroki Shouto Attempts to Murder a Bitch
-- “TIME TO CUT AWAY!!” laughs Horikoshi as he gleefully dodges out of reach before I can punch him, that SON OF A --
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goddammit. you’re just lucky that I’m invested in the girl power fight too
YESSSSS OCHAKO
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DON’T BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS! NEVER BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS
damn, looks like she managed to touch Toga’s shirt but not Toga herself. both of them are so fast
now Toga is monologuing from the shadows
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we’ve all been there, Toga. sometimes you see someone you really like and it’s just like, ahhhhhh gotta kill them am I right
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lol I love Toga so much you guys, but I’m also kind of wincing in anticipation of whatever essays are gonna materialize out of the fandom this week explaining how hero society has failed her utterly and she is just a victim here. CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW SHE JUST WANTED FREEDOM TO BE HERSELF AND MURDER A BUNCH OF PEOPLE flhkklhl
OH SNAP SHE WENT AND TOLD HER THE THING!!
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and it was fucking awesome and scary as shit, Ochako. like damn, still sends a chill up my spine just thinking about it
anyway so now Toga is continuing to explain that she can use the quirks of whoever she transforms into
and Ochako is kind of freaking out, which I don’t blame her for, since it’s probably really upsetting to hear that your stolen blood and quirk were used to murder a bunch of people. shit
so now she’s all “WTF WHY WOULD YOU EVEN TELL ME THAT”
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??? was this somehow the wrong answer?
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for fuck’s sake. Toga you literally came down here to ask her if she would be willing to kill you, and here she is telling you “I would never be happy about killing someone, that’s fucked up”, and you’re all “......”
like come on though, what else do you want her to say?? and why does Ochako look so shocked now
OOP
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LMAO
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THEIR FACES DKSLHFKG. TOGA NO THAT IS MEAN. and jesus christ Ochako it’s just a toy. I know it has Sentimental Value and shit but is this really the thing to be getting distracted about right now
FOR FUCK’S SAKE
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JIN-KUN WHOM OCHAKO HAS NEVER FUCKING MET?? THAT JIN-KUN??!
OM NOM NOM
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this entire confrontation makes absolutely zero sense to me you guys. just. Horikoshi was all, “this is the kind of stuff girls talk about when they’re battling to the death, right?” just, are you okay my dude
anyway so Toga has somehow deduced that Ochako got the doll from Deku, which means that she and Ochako are exactly alike in every way, and this is somehow an important plot point, and now they’re finally getting back to the fight lulz
OH SHIT
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OCHAKO BOUT TO SLAP THE SHIT OUT TOGA WITH THIS BOOKCASE ON A STRING AND THIS LOUIS BAG OH FUCK
so now Toga’s all excited and she’s all “THERE’S SOMETHING I OUGHT TO TELL YOU, I’M NOT LEFT HANDED EITHER” oh snap
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fuck, it almost feels like she’s trying to warn her. Ochako idk maybe you should run shit I do not like this ( ゚д゚)
but of course she is not running, and she’s all “I’ll have you take responsibility for your actions”
HEY NOW
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WHAT IS FUCKING HAPPENING, DID TOGA JUST FUCKING MURDER TSUYU, WHAT THE FUCK. I AM TERRIFIED, I DON’T WANT TO SCROLL DOWN, SHE THREW LIKE FOURTEEN KNIVES INTO THE DARKNESS, WHAT THE FUCK
OH
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IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE OVERREACTED
so did Toga just Swip a bunch of knives for no reason and then abscond, lol what. CAN ANYBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF THAT ENTIRE SCENE WAS. ASIDE FROM GETTING TO SEE OCHAKO TRY AND YEET A BOOKCASE AT SOMEONE
fuck, she was crying??
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DID MY GIRL TOGA JUST KILL AN OLD WOMAN, NAKEDLY LURE OCHAKO INTO A BUILDING, ANTAGONIZE HER INTO SAYING “I’LL MAKE YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR KILLING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT LIKE IT”, STEAL HER DOLL, GIVE HER DOLL BACK, TELL HER “OH SO YOU LIKE DEKU TOO HUH? BTW I CAN USE OTHER PEOPLE’S QUIRKS”, AND THEN RUN AWAY CRYING??? BRUH
-- OH SHIT, OH FUCK
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[SIRENS BLARING WILDLY] [AUDIENCE LEAPING OUT OF THEIR SEATS] [T-SHIRT CANNONS BOOMING IN THE AIR] [VIKING WAR HORN SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE] FUUUUUUUUUCK
well never the fuck mind about Ochako and Toga and WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT ALL WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I guess, BECAUSE!! MACHIA MADNESS HAS ARRIVED. SPEARS SHALL BE SHAKEN!!! SHIELDS SHALL BE SPLINTERED!!
AND LOOK WHO WOKE UP FROM HIS NUMBER ONE HERO BEAUTY NAP RIGHT ON CUE, TOO!!! ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS... IIIIIIIIIIT’S TOUYA TIMEEEEEEEE
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Link
Oh golly gee, did I finish my first proper fanfic? Yes!!! Maybe you should read it 😳😳😳
It’s Lemonyanka/Lemyanka of course because I will look for any excuse to think about and talk about both Lemon and Priyanka because I adore them 💖
Also I’ll just post the whole thing here on Tumblr as well <3
“You know my name?” The girl at the counter said, expression awestruck, all wide eyes and raised brows, “How? Are you a mind reader or something? A psychic? Oh my god- you’re like Miss Cleo! Here tell me- what’s my favourite color? Oh wait no- what was the name of my first dog? Wait no- nevermind- how about- when am I gonna die?”
“Uhhh I don’t think I can answer any of those questions. But you seem healthy… so I’d say you’re not gonna die for another like fifty years. I’m not a psychic or anything though so don’t take my word on that. Your name is literally just written on your shirt.” Lemon said, motioning to the nametag with Priyanka scrawled messily on it that the other girl wore on her cream colored apron, “Nice name though. I’m Lemon. Now about that latte...”
Priyanka seemed to ignore Lemon’s comment on the latte, snickering to herself before she asked, “Lemon? Like the fruit? Are you sour too Lemon? You seem sour today. What’s the matter Lemon? Need some sugar to make you into lemonade?” Priyanka winked flirtatiously before continuing with, “Cause I can give you some sugar if you want. Wink wink.”
“Oh my god can you please just hand me my drink now?” Lemon demanded, pressing a hand to her temple in exasperation, “I can’t keep playing twenty questions with you, I actually have places to be.”
Lemon should have simply kept her mouth shut, because Priyanka seemed even more excited now, bombarding Lemon with way too many questions, “Oh? Where do you have to be? You busy? Why? Where? For how long? What’s keeping my Lemondra occupied today?”
“I have dance class.” Lemon said with a sigh, realizing that she probably wasn’t going to get her drink until she dealt with the other woman’s interrogation, “And I didn’t sleep much last night so I need a coffee to wake me up.”
“Oh you didn’t sleep?” Priyanka began to wiggle her eyebrows, “You a busy bitch? Spent time with your boyfriend all night or something?”
Lemon scrunched up her nose at the concept, “Ewww no.”
“Ah, so you were spending your evening with a lovely lady then? I get that, you have fun?”
“What? No- I’m single. I was up all night doing an essay for one of my classes.”
“Single?”
Priyanka leaned closer at this, practically climbing over the counter between them. She really wasn’t subtle at all, was she?
“Yeah, single. Now if you’d actually listen to me, I’d love a single cup of coffee.”
“Maybe. Eventually… But Lemondra, when you say you’re single are you like- looking for a man or more like- a fun super cool barista chick to spend time with?”
Lemon didn’t respond, rolling her eyes before she lifted her wrist to display a small bracelet in the colors of the lesbian flag.
“Oh? So darling Lemon does like women? I guessed correctly after all! Maybe I’m the mind reader then!” She covered her mouth, “Maybe I’m Miss Cleo! But you like women? I’m women! Do you like meeeee?”
Dear lord, Lemon just wanted her coffee.
“Yeah, sure, I like you. Can I have my coffee now? And a slice of cake as well?”
Priyanka opened her mouth to say something and Lemon quickly pressed a finger to her lips.
“I don���t need to hear it. Cake please?”
Priyanka nodded, rolling her eyes as she silently went and grabbed a piece of cake, putting it in a to-go container before handing it to Lemon.
“So,” She said, a dumb smirk crawling onto her face, “You like cake huh? I could go for some lemon cake myself actually.” Then she finger gunned in Lemon’s direction.
Why had God forsaken her? All Lemon wanted was some coffee and a snack, not whatever the hell this was...
“Hahaha funny funny joke Priyanka, please, I am begging for my coffee at this point.”
Priyanka finally seemed to relent, sighing dramatically before she asked, “What did you want again?”
“Latte please, two shots of espresso.”
“Got it.” And then Priyanka turned around and got started, and in less than a minute Lemon was standing there with a steaming cup of coffee being pressed into her hands.
“That’s it?” She said, voice a little too loud for so early in the morning, “All your interrogating for a coffee that took you less than a minute to make?”
“Yep.” Priyanka said, eyes bright and mischievous, “That’ll be five dollars please.”
Lemon handed Priyanka a ten dollar bill, grabbing her slice of cake as well before she made her way to the door, calling behind her, “Keep the change.”
As she entered her dance studio minutes later, coffee nearly finished, she moved to sit down and wait for her teacher to arrive. Now a little more awake, she was able to process the events of the morning with a bit more clarity. And as she looked at her cup, she noticed a string of numbers in surprisingly neat handwriting near the bottom alongside the message: Come again doll~
When had Priyanka done that?
Lemon decided not to think about the logistics of it all- instead opting to finish her cake as she sat- before she pulled out her phone and put the number into her contacts. She’d text Priyanka later she supposed. The girl had been beyond annoying, but in a surprisingly cute, endearing way. And Lemon was never one to turn down phone numbers from beautiful girls anyway.
After class Lemon made her way back towards her dorm, deciding on a whim, to stop by the cafe. She could use a snack, and maybe- just maybe- she wanted to see Priyanka again.
“Lemondra! You came back to see me!” Priyanka squealed the second she spotted Lemon, apparently choosing to ignore the fact that it was two in the afternoon and there were several people in line who needed their drinks.
As Lemon waited for her turn she noticed how efficient and quick Priyanka was. She could get someone’s order, make it, and have them out the door in what seemed like seconds- though was honestly closer to a minute or two each. It was impressive.
Though of course Priyanka seemed to quickly forget her own barista version of superspeed, as the second Lemon came up to the register she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clearly in no rush to take Lemon’s order.
“You look ravishing Lemondra, here for more coffee? Or more cake? I mean, I have plenty of cake to serve you- if you catch my drift.”
“Drift caught.” Lemon deadpanned, before breaking into a small smile, “But I’ll just have a poppy seed muffin. I mainly came by to chat.”
“Awww so you saw my message? You liked it? You wanted you some more Priyanka?”
“Admittedly yes, though I was curious what your backup plan was supposed to be if I just ignored your message. Or what if I hadn’t even noticed it?”
Priyanka shrugged, “Didn’t have a backup plan. I knew it would work, everyone wants a piece of this cake.” she laughed, pointing towards the display case of cakes, “Both what I got, and what we sell.”
“I see.” Lemon said, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, “Well I guess you weren’t wrong. Your cake is exceedingly nice… and what you sell ain’t half bad either.”
Priyanka let out a loud cackle, bending over at the waist to pound her fist into the countertop, “Yes! Fuck yes! You’re my kinda girl Lemondra, I fucking love you.”
Lemon raised an eyebrow, smirking as she said, “Aren’t you supposed to say that a little later down the line? Come on bitch, we haven’t even had our first date yet.”
“Oh god! You’re right,” Priyanka said with an over dramatic gasp, “Here- we can go on a date the second my shift is up, then I can confess my undying immortal love to you. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” Lemon said, “When’s your shift done?”
Priyanka didn’t answer immediately, turning to grab a poppy seed muffin from beside her before she was handing it to Lemon with a wink.
“Gimme two dollars and fifty cents, then I can clock out. I’ve served my time in this coffee scented hellhole, time to blow your mind by taking you on the best date in the whole goddamn world.”
Lemon handed Priyanka another five dollar bill, “Well then keep the change and let’s go bitch, I wanna get this date started! I’m ready to have my mind absolutely blown.”
“Oh trust me,” Priyanka said with a cocky grin, taking off her apron and name tag before she was hopping over the counter, “You’ll never be able to look at dates the same after this. It’ll be life changing bitch.”
Lemon couldn’t help but laugh, “Sure, I can’t wait then- I’m assuming you’ll be leading the way?”
“Of course babe, trust me.” Priyanka suddenly turned around to face the counter, yelling with far too much enthusiasm, “Ilona get out here and do your fucking job, I’m clocking out!” She didn’t wait for a response, moving towards the exit before bowing low in front of Lemon, “Now, after you m’lady… or should I say… m’lemon?”
Lemon swatted at Priyanka playfully, taking her hand before she pushed the door open, “Don’t you ever say that again you bitch.”
Priyanka giggled, “What- m’lemon doesn’t like the pet name? I don’t see the problem.”
Lemon was about to respond, ready to explain to Priyanka why m’lemon as a nickname was absolutely awful- but before she could she was cut off by a sarcastic, “Thanks for the heads up Priyanka, I love the last minute notice- ya know I’m not being paid to step in and handle the place myself whenever you wanna go on dates or whatever?”
Lemon blushed as she turned to see another woman behind the counter, an annoyed look on her face as she stared Priyanka down.
“You aren’t being paid to sit in the backroom on your phone either Ilona, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.” Priyanka said, more smugly playful than accusatory, “And we were just leaving. I’m taking m’lovely m’lemon out on a date. Don’t wait up.”
“It’s just Lemon.” Lemon supplied, though neither woman seemed to listen to her.
“Well take your m’lemon out the door and go make out or whatever somewhere else- somewhere far, far away from here.”
Lemon quickly grabbed Priyanka’s hand, pulling her through the door and to the street, calling out an apologetic, “We’re leaving, don’t worry!” over her shoulder.
Priyanka stayed silent for a moment, deliberating it seemed before she began to lead them down the street- a comfortable silence between them as they walked. It was nice… especially with Priyanka seemingly lost in her own thoughts… not speaking at all. Lovely.
“Wow,” Priyanka finally said, voice full of shock, which made Lemon look up at her curiously, “I can’t believe this.”
Priyanka lifted up their intertwined hands, shaking her head solemnly before she said, “Already holding hands with me. Jesus Christ Lemondra, what kind of hussy do you think I am? At least put on some protection before we do this next time- I don’t wanna get your cooties.”
Lemon snorted out a laugh, goddamn Priyanka and her ability to make anything funny, “You’d love to get my cooties.”
“Mmmm maybe I would Lemondra,” she said, stopping in her tracks to bring the back of Lemon’s hand up to her lips, kissing her skin softly.
It was kind of romantic if you asked Lemon, and she felt her heart melt a bit in her chest at the gesture, though the moment was quickly disrupted by Priyanka saying, “Hmmm… not as sour as I was expecting.”
This caused Lemon to raise an eyebrow, “Why would my skin be sour-?” Then it hit her. Another stupid joke about her name.
“Alright fuck you,” Lemon said as Priyanka broke out into cackling hyena laughter, “I swear to god if you make anymore jokes about me being named Lemon I will actually end you.”
Priyanka nodded, making a very serious, solemn face as she crossed her heart, “No more lemon jokes. Understood.”
“Thank you.” Lemon murmured, pressing a kiss to Priyanka’s cheek, “If you actually manage to keep your mouth shut maybe I’ll…” She tapped a finger against her chin in mock thought before she smirked, saying in a saccharine sweet faux innocent tone, “Maybe I’ll give you a treat after our date.”
Priyanka nodded even more enthusiastically than she had before, a bit red in the face, clearly picking up on Lemon’s thinly veiled innuendo.
Then, once more, she had to open her mouth, “Will the treat be lemon cake?”
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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years
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Life Update
It’s me, your humble author, here for a little update. 
My last fic seemed to hit hard with some of you, whether it was empathetic or sympathetic, I’ve seen your responses to it. And I know that some of you are concerned, and I love that I mean so much to you that you’re willing to reach out. It’s a sweet feeling that makes me smile and gives me an affirmation with each message. 
And right now, I really am trying to figure out how I feel about my recent breakup. I know that I don’t want to go back to him. And sifting through the memories brings back some more somber moments and somber thoughts, like the ones you read in Together in Paris. 
It’s been hard for me, yes. And maybe I can share some of it with you. Maybe writing it out will make me feel better, or feel something. I know I have a habit of going numb and avoiding things that might hurt me, but I think it’s time I open my heart up a bit, and I feel safe with you all. 
It’s true. He was supposed to be my happily ever after. He was my prince charming who came to save me from an awful home life, terrible mental health, and well, just about everything else. For a long time I believed that he was my forever. My Edward, my Wesley, my Winchester, my Chat Noir, my Captain America, my guardian angel, my soulmate. The little girl inside of me who craved being saved had found her savior and she loved him with all of her heart. There was no one who knew me better for a long time. Though every heartache he was there. When friends turned and walked out on me, when I had tough decisions to make, when I needed someone to lean on, he was there. He was my everything. 
And I gave up so many things. I compromised so many times just to keep him. Things that I’ll never get back. I never stole his sweatshirts because he didn’t own any. We never had a song, he rarely liked my taste in music. I never got flowers, or romantic dates. I had to plan them all, if I wanted it, I had to tell him. There was no dancing at prom, no claim of highschool sweethearts, no nights looking up at the stars. No cute photos at holidays. I lost all of the little things for the sake of a savior. 
And I think that’s what wore away at my heart the most. What could have been, what should have been, if he cared a little more. Words only got so far. “Of course I love you,” “I’ll try harder,” “I’m not good at this kinda stuff,” “I don’t care,” They were empty promises piled up on top of the promise of forever. 
And even though I was with him, I started to define myself, and I liked that he was apart of my definition, but he wasn’t the entire definition anymore. But that’s all I was to him. I was on a pedestal to him. And I wanted off, desperately. But he refused.  
 Everything he did, he claimed to do for me, then complained about how it drained him. He’d work non stop for money to go to school for me, then complain about his day or refuse to get proper sleep. And I’d tell him to sleep, to take care of himself, and he didn’t. He said he couldn’t. And it’s hard watching someone self destruct while you’re desperately telling them to get help, to listen, to do something different. Anything different. 
And that hurt. A lot. It hurt watching him cling to a shadow of me and say he loved me again and again and I couldn’t say it back. I couldn’t believe him anymore. He didn’t love me. He loved the idol. 
And he never listened. That’s what killed me. When we fought, when I tried to tell him where he was going wrong, when I tried to help him, he’d get mopey and “woe is me” and victimize himself to a point where I felt backed into a corner. Where I didn’t want to talk to him because he was only interested in hearing “I love you” or complaining to me. He didn’t want to know about my day. He didn’t care what music captured my heart. 
He never read my writing. 
Maybe once, he did a few years ago. But I can assure you that I’ve gotten “later” from him for about a year. A “later” that never came. And that hurt a lot. I pour my heart out into my writing. It’s a world that I can create and destroy if I want to and I love my worlds, I love my writings, and he never read them. He never cared. He made excuses. And he was also manipulative with it because one of the only writings that he read of mine from this blog is my ace headcanon list, then proceeded to yell at me and gaslight me for writing it making me feel bad because he had reacted wrong and golly gee I’m Mad and Hurt So after a while, I just stopped trying.
And it was sad, because he never noticed that I stopped trying. He probably thought that I was being complaint. Another compromise. 
And I came to the realization that I didn’t want to share my life with him because he didn’t want to be in my life. He wanted my love and affection and the security that I offered. 
He knew it was wrong. He told me he knew. Again and again he said he’d change. He’d get better, he’d keep trying. And trying. And... not trying. He never changed. He never kept that promise. 
And that kills me too. 
I wrote “there are songs about the ones who got away, but they never ask her why she left, do they?” 
This is why I had to leave.
Because I’m not a fighter. I’m a pacifist. I’ll go in peace without a word. Without an argument. A clean break. I can go and never tell my side of the story. I’m okay with rumors about me because I know who I am on the inside. And I’ve worked damn hard for that and I’m proud of it. 
But no one knows any of this. And he’ll never see this because he’ll try to turn it back on me. 
So, I’ve made a clean break for it. I’ve blocked him on social media and on here. I don’t want to try to fit him into my life anymore because it was exhausting. And I never knew how tired it made me until he was gone. 
So yes, it hurts. It hurts because I thought I had found my everything. I was convinced that I had, and he let me down. He let me down and he refused to accept that and he refused to ever let me believe that. It hurts because I gave up so many things for him and now I can never get them back. And that hurts. It really does. 
And right now, I have to disassociate him from my series, because those are the stories of us. And they’re supposed to have happy endings and a man who stays and changes for the better but I have no idea how to write that now, because it didn’t happen to me. So please, don’t expect me to figure out how to finish those series because I have no idea what to do now. I’m scared and alone without a prince charming for the first time in my life and writing career and it’s terrifying. And I know you all love them, I do, but I can’t do it. I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to give you a happily ever after because my was torn from me by the one who promised it to me. 
And that hurts the most. 
Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise   @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread  @okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise​ @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl  @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast  @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo @naughtygranger @queenofmankind @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @myforeveryoungblog @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @strawberriesonsummer @jjustsomerandomgirl @mrvlfangirl3190 @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @stoleurmomsvan @echpr @sunkissed-hufflepuff @dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @xlosttdreamss @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @romance-geek @rosie-starlit-sky @californiaa-babyy @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @littlepanda-love @eveft @iraniq
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iamjjmmma · 6 years
Text
“Number All My Bones: There and Back and There Again” Part 1, Chapter 4
Beginning: https://bit.ly/2NtGPgu
Previous: https://bit.ly/2H5dDej
Next: https://bit.ly/2tD9Q03
It’s only a taser; I know. I know the basics about these types of guns, although violence isn’t my main research preference. Still, I duck inside, my heartbeat still somewhat yelling at me, my head definitely yelling at me to get back to my work, that it’s probably just some sort of census. But the doorbell rang, and Papyrus immediately sprang out of his seat, with that golly-gee smile impressioned all over his face, and sprinted towards the door. Sans sprinted after him, and I after Sans, all of us except Papyrus seeming to remember the rule that no one was supposed to answer the door except for me. But the door opened before I could say anything, and there stood the one woman I would cry over just a few weeks later. Her name tag read “Ica Grey, Head of the Anti-Monster Department”, the “Jess” part obscured by a shadow for a little while, but I knew who she was. The streak of grey hair, the crossed arms, the badges on her blue dress told me everything. She was the one who had started the “MF” tag, the one who had started the monsters coming home without any sort of occupation, the one who had started the monster children not allowed to take the same classes as humans, the monsters being denied from the hospitals. The dehumanization process didn’t need to be done; it simply was, and it was since when we were born. My smile stretches until it turns taut. “Hello, Miss.” Her hand settles on her taser for a moment, but it stutters just before it settles by her side. “Hello, Doctor. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I nod. “I can say the same. Especially with your ‘MF’ endeavors. What does it stand for, though? I’ll take a wild guess. ‘Monsters Forbidden.’” She nods back, although I can practically see her teeth gritting. Her hand moves closer to the gun. Betty whimpers a little, and Sans and Papyrus hush the other children away before they get embroiled in the grown-up soup of politics and science. In another world, maybe I would have gone with them. But that world is faraway, much too far from now to even think of existing. Miss Grey put her hand by her hip. “Are we conducting the meeting or not?” I nodded, although I didn’t even think about giving her any more than that. I was prepared to send all of the children upstairs, thinking they went into the living room, but it was only Betty, reading a history book for her tutoring program, no doubt. I was about to say something, but one look at the scary lady behind me all in blue sent her tiptoeing away and making her way up the stairs. As we sat on the couches, the coffee in the pot cold by now after my morning cup, I made my move, even though I knew it wouldn’t work by a long shot. “Do you mind putting the gun away? I have four little kids here, and I don’t want them getting-” She laughed, ran her long fingernails through her hair once or twice. “Of course not. You’re the scientist, aren’t you? You should know by now that it’s only a safety precaution. Not that I’d willy-nilly fire at one of your kiddos, right?” I sighed, went into a conversation about geothermics I wouldn’t give to my students until it was May and the graduation caps were being shipped. I counted myself using the words “entropy”, “enthalpy,” “quasistatic”, “Carnot cycle”, and “calorimetry” at least twice each before she started to nod off before nearly bumping her nose on the edge of the couch. Science that would have gone over her head even if she had a fifty-foot mitt to catch it. She jerked herself up so quickly that she started falling forwards, and I almost stretched out my hands to catch her before she could regain her composure.“Well, Dr. Gaster, this was all very, very informative, but can you please focus on the effectiveness of your project?” I went into a slight smile. Finally. “Alright, Miss. The expansion of the Core will help to power our city by-” She put a hand over her mouth in mock shock, but I knew she was yawning underneath. A professor tends to notice these things easier. “So it basically makes our gas bills cheaper?” I laughed, and I almost put a hand over my own mouth. I shifted into a different language, one that politicians love to speak. “What-?! No. No, not at all. If the expansion is complete, you won’t even have to pay for electricity at all. Ever. And thanks to it, we’re starting to see a big change. Not only in the bills-” I stopped. I was getting a little preachy. I laughed again. Even if I was preachy, it wouldn’t ever stop me from loving the feeling. So I gave in when she asked how the Core worked. Just this once. “Well, it converts geothermal energy from the mountain to-” I couldn’t say “magical”, but there was another word for that. A word I could use. “-idiopathic energy by using the underground chambers. These chambers have magnets with turbines that allow the electricity to be transformed from idiopathic to-” She put her hand over her eyes, although I know they were closed underneath. “It converts electricity to heat.” “Oh, I see.” Huh. So she wasn’t asleep after all. “A non-polluting, unlimited, self-sustaining power source. Of course…” I stand up, and she puts her weight on her toes as if she’ll follow, but she stays right there where she is. People say I’m a good judge, even though I’m a better scientist, but in cases such as this, I can’t always pull out a clear verdict about someone. “...none of this would happen if you don’t sign the agreement tomorrow.” She nods, but puts her hand closer to her taser just in case. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything.” “What do you mean that doesn’t mean anything? I’ve just explained an energy agenda that I doubt you’ll find anywhere else, and-” “That still doesn’t explain the rest of your kind.” “Are you-?!” “Yes, Doctor. I am. You think that just because you’ve made energy out of the dirt means that you haven’t come from it. You come up here and steal our jobs, steal our money, all because you think you’re better than the rest of us. You-” I stretched out my hand, reach for anything looking vaguely like a door handle to push. “Miss Grey, I didn’t say any of that-” “Oh, just because you didn’t say it doesn’t mean it isn’t-” I saw her in the corner before I heard her. Betty had come back from upstairs, probably because of all the fuss we made down here, and was looking at me with some of the most terrified two eyes I’ve ever seen. “Excuse me, ma’am.” She didn’t bother me as I went over and patted Betty’s shoulder. Poor girl. Only a few minutes here, and already we’ve escalated beyond what I would ever think of doing if Jessica wasn’t… Jessica. “Betty, it’s alright. The both of us were just having a discussion, alright? It’s very important. So what I need for you to do is to go back upstairs and-” “Doctor.” “Just a minute. What I need for you to do is go back upstairs and tell the others that everything is fine. And even if it does escalate, I’m stronger than I look, huh?” I patted her shoulder again for good measure. “Doctor, please. You’re not talking to anyone.” “Miss, what do you mean I’m not talking to anyone? Betty’s right here, isn’t she?” Chara and Asriel have come back down, too. I suppose the conversation died just enough. “Isn’t she?” Chara shakes his head, while Asriel shrugs his shoulders. “She’s still upstairs playing puzzles with Papyrus. An’ I think she’s learning how to play chess, too.” I look to my right, and Betty’s gone. Anxiety can do more than you could ever imagine, I suppose. If it can keep me staying awake at night after a dream that only mildly alarmed me, it can do what it just did. Anxiety also kept me heading towards my room after Jessica left, after calling down the kids and getting Papyrus to help me fix a pizza and some chicken, telling them that dinner was probably right around the corner. And just as anxiety foretold, something’s wrong. One of my books on human-monster history has fallen on the floor, but even without any sort of education in physics, I can tell it doesn’t fall like that. It’s at least halfway across the room, my bookshelf still in place right next to the door, and when I picked it up, another eerie fact sent a chill down my spine, and I almost felt my coat shaking along with it. It was open only a few pages in towards the end. Experience has taught me otherwise. If books don’t fall flat on the covers, front or backs, it normally falls with the middle pages open and spread out. Meaning if it didn’t fall, someone had to have taken it. Was it Sans or Asriel or Betty or anyone being tutored by him, forgetting to pick it up after they’d left? Or was it Papyrus, who was trying to get his own little revenge for me not getting him the book at the library? Alright. Focus. It’s probably one of them. I put back the book, and I sighed, going out to fix myself another cup of coffee. Anxiety can do everything, I suppose.
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ladyseaheart1668 · 6 years
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Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 31)
Description: Before he can make his next move, Caleb must face the leader of his new gang. Meanwhile, Alodia and Tahira make Thanksgiving plans.
Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun ; @mysteli ; @endlesshero1122 ; @whatmcsaid
Chapter 31 : Lines of Loyalty
Caleb
The next phase of my plan requires finesse. Precision. It requires subterfuge, which I am not a fan of. I recognize the necessity of it sometimes, but it always feels dishonest. I mean, subterfuge is always dishonest, that's the whole point. But what I mean is that it feels like a compromise. Playing by the rules of the corrupt system, even if I'm privately defying them. Letting them believe they have my support, even if it's only temporary. I would much rather come storming in and make a bold statement. I want them to know why their shit is falling apart in front of them, and I want them to know right away. I want them to know it was me.
Gigi would argue that you can still get all that same satisfaction from subterfuge if you do it right, but I'm still skeptical. Speaking of the psychobitch, if I'm gonna do this subterfuge thing right, I have to keep her from getting suspicious. I've been making sure to check in with one of her spies on the edge of Bayside every couple of days, but I know that I can't stay in Northbridge indefinitely. The longer I delay going back to the squatter nest and giving her something concrete, the more suspicious she'll get, and the more likely I am to end up neck-deep in particularly rancid shit. The closer I get to the probable deadline, the faster I go through my Camels. I make what I estimate to be my third stop at that convenience store to stock up for the road with a six-pack each of beer and generic cola, a fresh pack of Camels, and a couple of those burritos—which I think actually has to be laced with crack or something because convenience stores should not have burritos this good.
Just like the last two times, the dark-haired kid is behind the counter, and his grizzled old biker manager rings out the beer and smokes before slumping back to the storeroom. I cast a critical eye over the kid while he finishes ringing up the cola and burritos. I find my gaze drawn to the racks of candy under the counter and impulsively grab a bag of gummy bears to toss on my pile.
“Those too.”
“Sure thing.” The kid scoops up the gummy bears, scanning them and dropping them in the plastic bag with the rest of my shit. He gives me my total and I pull out a slim wad of bills from my pocket, peeling off a twenty. I hold it out to him, reaching into the bag to pull out the Camels.
“So...do you live here or something?” Tapping the pack against my palm, I read the nametag pinned to the front of the kid's polo. “...Dylan?”
Dylan plucks the twenty from between my fingers, looking reproachfully at me. “Of course not.”
“So, I look back in that storeroom, I'm not gonna find your four kids and a dog?” I pull the tab on the cellophane cover. It crackles angrily as I tug off the top half. The heat in the store is on full blast to combat the cold November air constantly streaming through the doors, and the dry air makes the cellophane stick to my hand more than usual. Dylan eyes the pack in my left hand as I shake my right furiously, trying to dislodge the clear wrapper.
“Those things'll kill you, you know,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, golly gee, will they? I didn't know that because I've lived my whole life in a goddamn cave, and I can't actually read this warning label right here on the pack! Fuck off. Unlike you, I'm an adult.”
Dylan grumbles a reply that sounds like a warning not to light up inside, and jabs a button on the cash register. I grunt and stuff the pack in my pocket with the inner foil still sealed, giving my cellophane-draped hand another shake. I hold my left hand out for my change, and Dylan grudgingly counts it out into my palm, dropping the coins on top.
“Hey, you know what else'll fucking kill you? Skipping lunch near daily. Probably at about the same rate as smoking. I dunno, I'm no doctor.” I finally paw the cellophane off on the rim of the plastic bag and grab it by the handles, dropping the handful of coins and singles back on the counter. “Keep the change. Buy yourself one of these crack burritos. Seriously, convenience store food has no business being this good.”
Before he can reply, I stalk out the door and into the biting cold, the door's tiny brass clapper bell trilling behind me.
* * *
Traffic is bad getting out of the city, so the whole drive to Squatterville takes over an hour. Enough time for me to puff through half the pack. I'm driving a junker of a minivan that's at least as old as I am, so old that it doesn't even have a CD player. Just a cassette slot. But I did manage to find an old-fashioned cassette adapter and portable CD player last time I went looking for the kind of obsolete electronics that a guy in my position can actually afford. I put on a burned CD of a bunch of songs from a bunch of those rock metal bands out of northern Europe, the ones with the female lead singers and their reality-defying powerhouse voices ringing out over electric guitars, drums, and epic orchestras. I turn the volume up as much as I can stand, put the heater on full blast, and lower the driver's side window. I spend the journey smoking, tapping ashes off the end of my cigarette through the open window, and tossing the butts out onto the road. In between cigarettes, I scarf down two burritos and guzzle three colas. I toss the wrappers and empty cans into the dark space behind the front seats, where I rarely look. The nicotine coursing through my blood keeps me calm enough on the drive, but as I get closer to Squatterville, closer to Gigi, I start wishing I'd bought another pack.
Gotta keep sight of the goal. The goal right now is to buy myself some more time. I need something to tell Gigi so she'll let me go back to Northbridge for awhile. Something close enough to the truth to be convincing, but far enough that she won't get wind of what I'm really doing. Something to grab her interest enough that she'll let me go on with it, but not enough that she'll want to come along for the ride. Squatterville is fast approaching. I may have to wing it a little.
I turn off the main road onto a quiet side road. The side road turns to crumbling pavement, then gravel, dirt, and finally nothing more than a grassy path cut into the trees with two long barren ruts permanently worn into it by countless tires passing over. I park on the side of a hill and tuck the half-empty pack of Camels in the inner pocket of my jacket, zipping up against the chill. I shove the gummy bears into one hip pocket, and all the cash and change I have on me into the other. Unable to put it off any longer, I climb out of the car and make my way up the hill into the trees.
The sun is already starting to sink in the sky, and the trees make long, stark shadows that obscure the uneven path. I step carefully, not quite willing to use the emergency flashlight that dangles from my keyring. One of the other squatters will spot me and let Gigi know I'm coming, if she's at home. No need to alarm anyone. If someone particularly twitchy is on guard, startling them could mean I end up with a knife stuck somewhere in me or worse.
I can make out a few signs that she's home as I trudge toward the abandoned houses. She's got her own little code of symbols and signs that she'll trace in the dirt or spell out with sticks or pebbles to let us know where she is. I also hear movement in the trees that I'm pretty sure isn't being caused by animals. It's almost dark by the time I reach the cluster of abandoned houses. A small campfire burns in the small no man's land between the treeline and the edge of the nearest house. Gigi stands beside it, watching me approach with a smirk on her pretty face.
I gotta be real, Gigi is...unfathomably good-looking. She's got this creamy, pale skin, these full, pouting lips that she emphasizes with deep red lipstick, clear blue eyes, and long waves of silky auburn hair. How she stays so flawless is a mystery, living the way we do, but I'm guessing she spends at least half the time she disappears working on her appearance. ...Or maybe she just has good genes. However she does it, she at least knows how to use what nature has given her. She wears form-fitting black clothes that hug the curves of her hourglass figure, and heeled boots to emphasize her shapely calves and ass, as well as add a couple inches to her height. She looks like the kind of woman you know you shouldn't tangle with, but you kinda want to anyway. You wanna know what makes her tick, even if you don't think you'll like the answer, or the experience of finding out.
She licks her lips in a way that reminds me of a hungry wolf. She's got the large split ring on the end of a teddy bear keychain around her index finger, and she twirls it around her finger as she watches me approach.
“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. Welcome back, Pyro.”
I exhale slowly. “Hey, G...how's tricks?”
She pulls a face, pushing her lower lip into an exaggerated pout. “Aww, Pyro. You know by now that I don't turn tricks. I don't need to.” She grins, catching the teddy bear in her palm. “Step into my office.”
She leads me into one of the old ranch houses, into the master bedroom, which she has claimed as her space. Besides a queen-sized mattress on the floor, she also has a beat up old office desk and swivel chair. The desk is metal and tends to give electric shocks in the winter. She flips a switch on a portable generator. Light from the work lamps mounted on the walls floods the room. She turns to face me.
“Arms out, Pyro.”
I sigh, grudgingly holding my arms out to the side. I've gotten used to this routine by now. She approaches and pushes her hands into my hip pockets. She pulls the money out of my left pocket and throws it on the desk without looking too hard. She's found the bag of gummy bears in the other pocket, and her face has lit up with glee. She pulls out the bag and rips it open, digging out a small handful. For a moment, she just gazes down at the colorful pile of candy in her palm, a wolfish grin on her face. She selects a green bear and sniffs it before putting it to her lips and sucking it into her mouth. I watch for a minute or so while she savors each chewy little bear.
“Uh...can I put my arms down?” Gigi holds up one finger, slowly chewing. I sigh, rolling my eyes. “G, come on. My shoulders are getting sore.”
Gigi finishes the handful and sticks her hands into my jacket pockets. Finding nothing in the outer pockets, she searches the inner ones and comes up with my cigarettes. I close my eyes, trying not to audibly groan.
“Camels?” At the sound of her voice, I open my eyes to find her arching an eyebrow at me. “You know I prefer Winston's.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, G, well you know what? I prefer Camels, and I didn't get them for you.”
She chuckles, pulling one out and sticking the filtered end between her teeth. For a moment, she looks at me, and I know she's debating whether or not she should make me light it for her. Apparently deciding against it, she produces a lighter printed with images of the Powerpuff Girls from her jacket pocket and lights up. I should have bought a few more packs, stashed them in the dark in the back of my van. But I know the one time I do will be the one time she decides to send one of her broken goons to search it. So now I'm watching her puff through my nicotine stash, and I don't even know if she's gonna let me go to get more any time soon. She exhales a pungent cloud and leans back against her desk.
“So, where have you been, Pyro? It's been awhile.”
I take this as a cue that I can finally put my arms down. “Northbridge. Didn't Roach tell you as much?”
“Of course. But you were extremely vague about what you were doing. Enlighten me.”
Okay, Caleb. Here goes nothing. “I was looking into the Prism Crystal. You've probably heard that Dragonness and Silas Prescott have both returned alive.”
“I had heard that, yes. What's it to do with you?”
“G, I can conjure flames because I came in contact with the Prism Crystal. I've heard speculation that injecting himself with liquid prism has given Silas Prescott a brain tumor. I just want to know if that's gonna happen to me.”
She regards me critically for a moment, taking another drag on the cigarette between her teeth and exhaling the smoke. She moves around the desk to sit on the other side, propping her feet up on top of it.
“What did you find out?”
“Not a whole lot.” I shove my hands in my pockets, choosing my next words carefully. “...Except that I think the Prism Crystal might be linked to the Island's Heart.”
Gigi glances up sharply, icy blue eyes narrowing. “...Of course they're linked. I know they're linked. I've always known. ...Are you saying you have proof?”
“Not on me. But yeah. I saw an old security video inside one of Prescott's facilities. From like, twenty-five years ago. He let it drop that the prism crystal came from La Huerta.”
“...But you didn't take the tape?”
“Well, no. I was in a hurry to get outta there. But the important thing is that we know, right?”
Predictably, she scowls at me. “No. Of course that's not the important thing. For all I know you're lying to me. And if you're not, Prescott or one of his loyal dogs could have erased that footage or destroyed it.”
I sigh, trying to arrange my features into something contrite. “...You're right. I fucked up there. But I think I know how to set it right.”
“And how is that?”
“Dragonness. I worked with her once, and I met with her again while I was in Northbridge. I think she's got more information on both the Prism Crystal and the Island's Heart. Thing is...she's not really feeling all that trusting toward me right now since I didn't stick with her little gang of corporate tools once the dust had settled.”
“And...what do you suggest?”
“Let me go back to Northbridge and work her a little while. I save a few kittens from trees, help a few old ladies cross the street, get back on her good side...”
Gigi snorts. “And you assume she's just gonna spill on everything then?” she sneers. “No. No way it's gonna be that easy.”
“Okay, probably not. Might take awhile. But I think she knows something about Alodia Chandler.”
Once again, Gigi rises to the bait, narrowing her eyes at me. “...Like what?”
“Like why Rourke was so crazy obsessed with her. What she's got to do with the infamous Island's Heart.”
Gigi is silent for a long time. I watch the Camel get shorter between her lips. This is a particularly dangerous bluff. I don't know if Tahira actually knows shit about Alodia. I have a suspicion she does, but that's all it is.
“...Alodia Chandler is the one who killed me.”
“I know. You told me.”
“...But why should that matter to you?”
This question I can answer honestly. “It doesn't. What matters to me is figuring out the Prism Crystal. I am hoping that the chance to find some shit out about Alodia is appealing enough to you that you'll let me off the hook for awhile so I can play the hero in Northbridge and gain Dragonness' confidence.”
“Let you off the hook,” she drawls, tapping an ash off the end of the cigarette. “But I assume you want me to keep you on the payroll.”
“I get how that could be a damned inconvenience. But it would be appreciated if you were able.”
“If I were able to keep paying you for jobs you aren't actually contributing to? If I were able to go out of my way to arrange for payments to be dropped while you play errand boy to a bunch of superpowered busy-bodies?”
I ignore the jab, spreading my hands in a pose like surrender. “Like I said. I get how it could be a damned inconvenience. I can make my own way if necessary.”
Gigi is quiet for awhile, considering. Then she shakes her head. “No. You work off my payroll, there's no guarantee you're not aiming to break with me.”
I can't help smirking ruefully. “Break with you, G? Never.”
She ignores me, pinning me with an ice-blue glare. Her gaze doesn't leave my face as she snuffs out the Camel on the surface of her desk with over an inch left before the filter. Watching it is almost physical agony. She must realize it, because she smirks.
“We'll arrange a drop. But you get half your usual cut, so you better make it stretch.” She drags the bag of gummy bears toward her and pierces one with the nail of her index finger, bringing it to her mouth. “I'll let you do your thing, Pyro. But you better deliver. Fire magic or not, I can make you sorry if you cross me.”
I nod. As completely batshit cracked as it may sound, I believe her. I totally fucking believe her.
Alodia
Not long past noon on Tuesday morning, I'm enjoying a leisurely lunch at the kitchen table, flipping through a dance magazine, when my phone rings. Michelle's name flashes on my screen. I tap the phone a couple times to put her on speaker.
“Hey, Michelle. What's up?”
“Hey, Alodia. I just got home from work, and I wanted to check up on you before I get some sleep.”
I feel a frown crease my brow, and I'm glad we're not video chatting. “Okay, I know I said I was okay with you being a little alarmist about my health, but I also happen to know you work twelve-hour shifts. I promise you, I can wait until you've gotten some sleep.”
“And I happen to know that you trust me more than your own OB-GYN, in spite of the fact that my speciality is neurology. We'll both feel better if you just tell me what she said at your appointment yesterday.”
“Well, she agrees with you that it's probably nothing to worry about, just the uterus pressing on the nerves, all very normal. She ran all the tests she thought were necessary and nothing unusual is going on.”
“And the baby's healthy?”
“Well, she didn't take an ultrasound or anything. Mostly because I feel confident saying that River's alive and enthusiastically kickboxing in there. I've got the big ultrasound scheduled for after Thanksgiving, and that's when we'll learn the sex.”
“Well, that's exciting. Are you going to tell us when you find out? Or are you gonna let Raj and Craig grow the pool a little more first?”
I laugh. “Of course we'll tell you all. At some point, they're gonna have to start betting on when I deliver, aren't they?”
“Almost certainly.” She pauses for a moment. “Are you cleared to travel for Thanksgiving then?”
“Yeah. But that doesn't exactly stop Jake from being nervous about me traveling on a public airplane while pregnant. Says they're flying cesspools, especially when they're packed with holiday travelers.”
“He's not wrong, you know. Why not just get a charter flight from Aleister and Estela? You know they'd be happy to arrange it. They do have other pilots besides Jake and Mike on their payroll.”
“Because his parents are going to be picking us up from the airport, and I want everything to feel as normal as possible when I first meet them. I mean, our whole situation is going to be hard enough for them to swallow without adding in that we have powerful friends who can arrange charter flights right off the bat.”
“The strangeness of your situation won't matter so much once they meet you,” Michelle declares confidently. “They're going to love you. Especially when they realize how much you love their son.”
“Aww, thanks. How is everything on your end?”
She is quiet long enough that concern stirs in my gut. Finally, she sighs. “Oh...you know...”
“That...doesn't make it sound like things are going well.”
“It's nothing serious. I'm just a little burned out right now. ...Burned out and bummed out...”
“What's going on?”
“It's really nothing. I've been switching shifts and covering shifts like crazy to get the time off to come to California for the New Year, and then to actually get married in March, so I haven't had a lot of time outside of work.”
“Well, that explains the burnout. But why the bum-out?”
“Well, both Sean and I have to work on Thanksgiving. The Condors have the Thanksgiving game again, and Tricia's going to be going to watch, and I'm working from noon to midnight, so there's not much chance the three of us will get to share Thanksgiving as a family this year. Plus, you're in California with Jake and Diego, Estela and Quinn are in San Trobida, Craig and Zahra are having Thanksgiving with his family, Raj is in Rome, Aleister and Grace have gone back to London...”
“So, you and Sean are the only Catalysts in Northbridge for Thanksgiving?”
“Exactly. I guess I'm just feeling lonely. I miss you all. ...I guess that's the one thing I'll always miss about La Huerta, is having everyone right there.”
“I know what you mean. I'm really looking forward to New Year's Eve and having all the Catalysts back together, even if it's only for a night.”
“But that's more than a month off yet...” The weight of melancholy in her voice makes my heart squeeze. She sounds exhausted. Dispirited.
“Aww, Michelle...”
“Don't you start worrying about me, Alodia,” she chides gently. “You look after that baby of yours.”
“I'm gonna take some time off in January or February to come to Northbridge before the wedding,” I promise. “If only to get properly fitted for my dress. And I'm already making plans for your bachelorette party in March.”
“As long as those plans don't involve you drinking, I look forward to them.”
After a couple more minutes, we say our goodbyes and hang up so that Michelle can get some rest. I sit at the table for awhile, staring at my phone. The conversation has left me...unsettled. I'm not worried about Michelle per se. At least...I'm not worried that she's falling into an emotional pit, or that she's suffering anything more insidious than a combination of burnout and disappointment at having to spend the holiday apart from her family. Still, I don't like hearing her sound so tired and unhappy.
I have no idea what Sean's training schedule is going to be like right now, but I take a chance and call him. He picks up.
“Hey, Alodia. What's up?”
“Hey, Sean. Hope I'm not interrupting a practice or anything?”
He chuckles. “Trust me, if you had called during a practice, I wouldn't have answered because I value my life. I'm actually just at the grocery store. ...Is everything okay?”
“It's all okay on my end. But I just spoke to Michelle.”
There's a pause. “Yeah...?”
“I don't know. She just seems...really down right now. She was talking about how you both have to work on Thanksgiving, and how she's covering a lot of extra hours to be able to come for New Year's...I guess I'm just kinda concerned.”
He sighs. “Yeah. I don't really blame you. You know how she is when she's got a goal. She doesn't give herself nearly as much slack as she should.”
“Not unlike you in that way,” I quip.
I can practically hear the wry smirk in his voice, “Hey, there's a reason we connected at Hartfeld. Two aces at the top of our respective games, biting off way more than we could chew...many a romantic evening we spent pulling all-nighters together.”
“But you've learned to give yourself some breathing room at least...to give yourself credit and not carry the burden all on your own...”
“So has she,” he says gently. “You know her, Alodia. You know what she needed most back then, what her biggest weakness was.”
“She didn't trust people. She wasn't willing to need anyone.”
“Just the fact that she told you she was feeling upset shows how far she's come, doesn't it?”
I am quiet for a moment, thinking this over. I suppose it is encouraging that even though she called to check up on me, Michelle did not require a lot of probing to admit that she was feeling under pressure herself.
“You're right. It does.”
“But you're also right. Michelle has been working way too hard lately, and I know not getting to spend Thanksgiving together is a major disappointment. Don't worry, though. I have a brilliant plan to make it up to her.”
“Good.” I exhale slowly, feeling myself relax. “You've gotten...really insightful in the last five years.”
“Yeah, well...I ended up going through some therapy after graduation. It helped clarify a lot of what was going through my head after the island. ...Helped me deal with the trauma and the grief, not just from what we went through, but everything before the island, too. Everything with my dad and Michelle. Even though she and I were friends again, it took awhile for me to feel like I could be worthy of her again. Therapy helped with that, too.”
“I'm glad. And I'm really glad you two have each other. Your weaknesses are kinda similar, but you're both strong enough that it's more of an advantage because you can keep each other in check with empathy.”
He laughs. “And you're calling me insightful. ...I gotta admit, I'm weirdly happy that you called me about this.”
“Really? Why?”
“I guess...you could say it's a relief to have you call because you're worried Michelle might be stressed and disappointed over having to work on Thanksgiving. It feels very...everyday?”
“I think I know what you mean. ...It's a taste of normal that's can be little hard to come by for our family.”
“Exactly. Hey, I should hang up and finish shopping. ...Are you guys gonna watch the Condors' game on Thanksgiving?”
“From what Jake's told me, there will definitely be a game on at his folks' place. I'll see if I can convince them to make it yours. I'll tell Diego and Varyyn to tune in here, too.”
“Good. I'm gonna need all the good vibes you can send me.”
“I'll rub my belly during the game for good luck.”
He laughs. “What, are you Buddha now?”
“What, lucky belly rubs are only for Buddha?”
“Pretty sure. But what the hell, it couldn't hurt. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving if I don't talk to you before then. And I'll see you guys on New Year's Eve.”
“I'll see you then, Sean.”
Tahira
The biting November breeze trails chilly fingers over my face, tugging at the dark tendrils of hair that have escaped the headband I've put on to keep my ears warm as I wander through the park with Grayson, my fingers laced with his. It's mid-afternoon, but the recent end of daylight savings time means that dusk is rapidly approaching. Not that it's all that easy to tell with the sky so heavily clouded as it is today. By now, the trees are completely bare, and their skeletal branches stand out starkly against the dappled sky. The fallen leaves have all been cleared away, which somehow makes the world seem quieter and more dead in this moment than it will in a few weeks when the snows start falling. It's like looking at a body freshly dead as opposed to after it's been embalmed and dressed for a final viewing. The thought is morbid enough to make me shiver.
“You cold?” Grayson takes his hand from mine to slip his arm over my shoulder and draw me closer to his side. I smile, letting my head rest lightly on his shoulder.
“I'm okay now. Why, are you cold?”
“A little,” he admits.
“Wanna head back towards your place? We could go inside and get warm.”
He nods, kissing the top of my head. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.”
I wind my arm around his waist. “So...how was your dad today?”
“I...didn't say?”
“You haven't said much of anything all afternoon. ...If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay.”
“No,” he sighs. “I do, kind of. Dad is...well...the doctors think that physically, he's okay. But his moods are...all over the map. He's angry, he's depressed...and then there are moments when he's almost manic and he seems hyperfocused on...something. ...No matter what, he still barely speaks to me. I know he's hearing me, but...it's like he can't say anything of any substance to me. Like he's hiding something. I've tried confronting him on what he did. I try asking gently. I even tried asking if he did it to bring Mom back. ...Nothing has gotten him to talk about it. And then out of the blue today, he says we should have Thanksgiving dinner together.”
“...How do you feel about that?”
“...He's my dad, Tahira. I don't want to leave him alone for a holiday...”
I sigh. “...I want to offer to go with you for moral support...but...”
He shakes his head fiercely, turning toward me and drawing me into his arms. “No. Absolutely not. After what he did to you, I don't want the two of you anywhere near each other.” He sighs. “...I feel like I should refuse him. I feel...like I'm being disloyal to you, still worrying about him.”
I feel my heart twist at his words. Pulling back, I take his face in my hands and meet his eyes. I hold his gaze for a moment before leaning forward to gently press my mouth to his. I feel him respond and I kiss him again and again, slow and tender. Finally breaking, I let my forehead rest on his.
“You're not being disloyal to me, Grayson. Any more than you're being disloyal to your dad by kissing me. You love us both, and it isn't your fault that any of this happened between us.”
He closes his eyes, his breath shaking. “I...just want you to know that I'm on your side. Really know it. ...If it comes to it, I'll support you over him. I promise.”
I wind my arms around him and rest my chin on his shoulder. “I am grateful to have your support.” I murmur in his ear. There aren't many people in the park with the weather being what it is, but I still keep my voice low. “...But if it comes to battle between me and your father again, I need to know that you'll be safe more than anything else.”
“...But...”
“Promise me, Grayson. Promise me you'll protect yourself. I'll have allies to rely on in the fighting, allies like me.”
I feel Grayson hesitate for a moment before finally nodding against my shoulder, wrapping me in his arms.
“You're right. I have to get used to the idea that my girlfriend has superpowers and doesn't need me to be the macho man.”
I laugh. “I wouldn't need that from you anyway. That's not who I fell in love with. Just stay my smart, compassionate, courageous, loyal Grayson.”
“All right, enough flattery,” he quips. “You're already getting a raise with the new year, what more do you want?”
I draw back to look him in the eye, grinning. “I could tell you, but it might be a little indelicate for a public park.”
“Ohh, so it's like that, is it? We'd better hurry back to my place, then. I want to see what you're thinking.”
We start walking again. We're moving faster now, though I'm not sure how much of it is eagerness to fall into bed together and how much is because it's quickly getting colder.
“Hey...Grayson?”
“Hmm?”
“Even if I can't go with you to your dad's...there's no reason you can't join me and Mom for dinner afterwards, right?”
“Two Thanksgiving dinners? I probably wouldn't eat much at the second one...”
“That's all right. Mom and I always spend Black Friday dishing out our leftovers at the soup kitchen in Bayside anyway. And you know we'd love to have you.”
He exhales, and there is relief in the sound. “...I would love to be there. So...so much...”
“It's settled then. Our first official holiday as a couple.” As an idea occurs to me, I turn to him with a grin. “...And to celebrate this approaching momentous occasion...” I take his hand, dragging him towards a rock shed on the edge of the park.
“Woah! Tahira, where are we going?”
I stop just long enough to whisper in his ear, “Somewhere I can get changed. Dragonness is going to fly you home.”
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lovelyirony · 7 years
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Honestly Tony Stark is such a tech person and you would probably never see his actual handwriting, but consider: 
His handwriting is gorgeous. Maria Stark could never the future of computers, even being in the middle of it. She was certain that handwriting would still be very important, and Tony should know how to write. 
They have classes after dinner, in lamp light. The record player plays soft piano melodies, and the occasional violin concertos. (Maria hates these because they remind her of a family she left behind for this one, but Tony loves them.) She corrects his handwriting, tells him that he won’t ever be taken seriously if his handwriting is dreadful. (Sometimes, he writes his signature in print, which is terrible scrawl, similar to Howard’s, just to spite his mother’s soul.) 
Cursive is easier to write, and there’s only one time that the team has caught him writing. The tower was out of commission for electricity while he was securing the arc reactor after a possible security breach. He was handwriting notes, and Natasha peeked over his shoulder. 
“Oh my god.” She takes the notes out of his grasp, and Tony doesn’t like it. “Guys, get over here!” 
“Nat, give me back my notes,” Tony whines. “Why do you even care?” 
“Because your handwriting is gorgeous,” Bruce retorts, looking over Natasha’s shoulder. “I thought you were a doctor.” 
“Very funny Bruce,” Tony says dryly. The other members of the team come over. 
“Oh my god,” Clint says. “This is such good handwriting.” 
“I’m high society, of course I have good handwriting,” Tony snaps. “What did you guys expect?” 
“Tony, you have spent thirty-six hours in your lab because you were trying to make chocolate chip muffins have more chocolate chips,” Thor says gravely. “We were very concerned. You only spouted gibberish about the man Fieri.” 
“His name is Guy.” 
“I refuse to accept that Midgardians have such terrible names.” Clint snickers; he had convinced Thor that Guy was a terrible name. (Not really, Thor already thought the name was bad.) 
“This looks like my old teacher’s handwriting,” Steve says. “She curled the j’s a bit more.” 
“Well gee golly, sorry to let you down,” Tony retorts, grinning. 
“You’re fine. I hated her,” Steve says. “God, Mrs. Hedge. I haven’t thought of her in about ten years.”  Tony “hmmphs” and grabs his notes back. 
“Yeah well, cursive. Big deal.” He retreats back to his workshop, using seven candles (all fall-scented, because Pepper stockpiles candles and forgets to use them) to rewrite a note. 
(and if his friends get handwritten cards for Christmas and birthdays, then he doesn’t “remember” writing them.) 
(and if they get fancy name tags for their rooms then tony doesn’t know how they got there jarvis probably did it) 
(In the new SI phone update, Jarvis sneaked it in to be a font for writing. People love it. Tony is mortified. Pepper keeps sending emails with his handwriting and Tony refuses to answer them on principle.) 
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Heathers 2018
So when I saw @princess-has-a-pen​ post about the new Heathers remake I had to look it up for two reasons:
1. I’m a huge fan of the Movie and Musical and 2. I had to see the fucking horror show that Spike TV was no doubt going to turn it into.
Now Princess asked in their tags the exact same thing I asked myself when I saw the post:
“Why?”
Well friends, strap yourselves in cuz I’m about to take you for a fucking ride.
Why remake Heathers? A movie that has solidified itself as a cult classic for it’s gritty, fucked up story and characters that took pretty much every kid who went to high school in the 80′s (or any time really) life and amped it up to 11?
Cuz the original Heathers is full of 'problematic' things and they can now remake it to be more 'progressive' while snagging a new audiance of younglings who know about Heathers because of the musical.
Now my friends, as I stated before, I love both the movie and the Musical, but as a mature, rational fan over the age of 30, I can look at something I love and point out it’s flaws and believe me, when it comes to the source material, Heathers the Musical is stuffed full of flaws and that creates some problems.
I am pretty sure all the Tumblrinas who idolize ‘Heathers’ have only seen the musical because honestly, the ‘date’ scene where Heather McNamara gets raped in the background would be enough to make them REEEEEE all the way to the fucking bank.
Like legit, she is literally struggling under her date (and not in a fun way) to make him stop and Veronica just fucking leaves her there. We don’t see her get away or anything, so you can only assume that that whole thing didn’t end well, especially given how miserable McNamara is in the movie to begin with.
The Muscial made light of a lot of the grim parts the movie worked to highlight, specifically bullying and suicide and the dangers of giving into pressure and just  being a fucking terrible human being. Not to mention it twisted things in a way that actually reinforced some harmful tropes. Specifically with the two main characters JD and Heather.
JD in the movie is a completely sociopath who physically and mentally abuses Veronica for almost the entire thing and in the Musical they gave him the stereotypical ‘troubled boy who wanted to make the world better but it just got out of hand’ treatment. Like “Oh yeah, he murders three people and tries to blow up a school but his dad’s a jerk and his mommy committed suicide so you can’t blame him! Deep down he’s just a tortured soul who really loves Veronica!”. Spoilers! He doesn’t love Veronica, at least not in any way that should be even entertained as any sort of ‘love’. He and Veronica’s relationship coupled with his ‘sacrifice’ at the end of the play made me cringe extra hard because it felt like it was romanticizing abusive relationships and in all honesty it was. A specific scene from the Musical where I thought they were actually going to address the toxicity of their ‘relationship’ (at the end of the ‘Our Love is God’ musical number where Veronica seems to have a mental break down as she screams ‘Our Love is God’ over and over again as if to drown out the fact that she just assisted in the murder of two people), was brushed under the rug the next scene and seemingly forgotten about till something ELSE big happens and then it’s fucking Ground Hogs Day apparently.
Veronica in the movie joined the Heathers before the movie even began because she wanted to be popular and due to her skill in forgery is pretty much made their pet project. She’s not as much of a cunt as Chandler or Duke but she's still pretty fucking bad. She kills Kurt herself, blows off her actual best friend in exchange for shallow popularity, laughs over Heather Chandler dying and only turns on JD when the suicide note she writes for Heather Chandler backfires and causes people to glorify Chandler as a saint. This as well leads her to realize that it’s pointless to kill people because someone else just takes their place as “The Mythic Bitch” ala Heather Duke’s transformation (also because JD straight up slaps her in the face for trying to back out on him). She only ever does anything semi sweet at the VERY end after JD gets blown up. In the Musical she is portrayed as a sweet innocent little buttercup who is super besties with Martha and sticks up for the little guy and never meant to hurt anyone and was just dragged into everything bad by bad people. She feels constantly guilty for it and seems unable to make any actual choices herself outside of breaking into JD’s house to fuck him. She’s totally innocent guys. Totes.
And before you say “C’moooon it’s a fuckin’ Muscial!” you need to go watch you some Dear Evan Hansen or Les Miserables because those two Musicals are heavy as fuck and had no problem in showing how fucked up serious shit like war and suicide was through flawed characters.
Now with this new series coming out it seems destined to fail. It has only been releasing Instagram videos to promote the show and already it’s hitting all the same old PC points while being SO EDGY at the same time. It’s Riverdale all fucking over again.
“The terrible trio is more like a set of outcasts who have taken over Westerberg High School.” -EW article
Like really? Fuckin’ really? The Heathers were all popular girls due to their wealth (McNamara), beauty (Duke) and over all exuding of confidence and attitude backed up by all of the previously stated assets (Chandler). They weren’t a bunch of outcasts. They took pride in how they looked and how people saw them. I don’t understand this fucking need to make every kid nowadays an ‘outcast’ in an effort to make them ‘relatable’. They did it to every kid in the Power Rangers remake and MJ in Spider-Man: Homecoming and it’s starting to  get fucking annoying. Oh well, gotta get them kids with all that EDGE!
So let’s look at the ‘Heathers’ (I can’t bring myself to not put that in quotation marks when talking about these piles of hot garbage):
Heather Chandler is a plus-sized, Skrillex haired edge lord who looks like every Tumblr Feminist/Suicide Girls reject and literally gives off no aura of power or fear at all. She just comes off as some fat bitch who found the HAAS RadFem movement on Twitter and used it to fill herself with enough undeserved self importance to justify being a cunt to everyone. Yes, where the original Heather Chandler got her power and reputation through sheer intimidation and personality, this Heather Chandler looks like the type of girl who will physically assault you in the bathroom and threaten to sit on you till you die.
Gee golly, I see Heather Duke is a sassy gay male now (and a white one at that). Wow, it’s not like that hasn’t been done a billion fucking times. Funny that he’s a white dude whose character in the movie and play turns out to capitalize on Heather Chandler’s death to raise their own status to the ‘queen bitch’ of the school. That’ll do GREAT for gay stereotypes I’m sure.
Aaaaand Heather McNamara, our possibly Asian possibly Latinx butprobably just party bag of mixed race token character who is the literal punching bag of the group. At least that seems to have not changed but I am sure it’ll help add shallow sympathy since now it’s not a bunch of white kids beating up on a little white girl, it’s a bunch of white kids beating up on a little minority girl. Goodie goodie.
The rest:
JD literally gets nothing to show from his video except one speaking line where he is telling Veronica that she’s “Not like Heather Chandler” she’s “better” while quick cutting a bunch of random shots from the show that mostly seem pointless and just confusing with one flash of him apparently running the flat of a knife on his palm behind his back? So we get nothing from our poor, tortured sociopath. I can just hear the producers of this show now: “We can’t show him being too soft or the old fans might not watch it and can’t show him being a psychotic asshole or the Musical fans won’t watch it, so make it just as cluster fucking and confusing as possible so no one will ask questions and just be drawn in with all the cheap visual click bait!”
For Veronica we again get nothing. One line of “Dear Diary, I hate my friends but that doesn’t mean I want them DEAD!” followed by more random cuts of shots from the show, many of bloody scenes and hints of violence but a lot more of just weird confusing scenes that make no sense. It’s kind of funny for the sheer reason that they seem to be banking on people just already knowing who these characters are ala the original movie but at the same time are trying to pull in new audience members with all the vague quick cutting which they seem to have mistaken for ‘mystery’.
And last  but not least, we have Betty Finn. What’s that? “Who if Betty Finn?” all you fans of the Musical ask? Well you wouldn’t know who Betty is unless you watched the MOVIE cuz Betty is who Martha Dump Truck replaced in the Musical because Betty wasn’t fucking sad sacky enough and they didn’t want to clutter the script with such a minor character. Betty was smart and an actual good person, the only good person in the movie honestly, who was Veronica’s friend since they were in diapers. She didn’t have a huge part in the movie outside of providing some blackmail material for JD to use against Heather Duke and trying to get Veronica to stop being such a moron (which failed). Now she’s appears to be the stereotypical side character that will be prominent in the show, probably as a comic relief character or plot device to be used against Veronica at some point.
Now, there is a huge question you have to ask:
Where is Martha? Will Martha even be in the series? Alright, it’s two questions but you get the point.
I have two guesses;
1. Possibly
but more than likely
2. No. Absolutely not.
Why do you ask? Because Martha’s character served as a plot device in both the Movie and the Musical to show how awful the Heathers really were and how their bullying was actually dangerous. Martha was a fat, slow, ugly dump of a girl. Problem is, you can’t make fun of that anymore. It’s not ‘progressive’ to make fun of people with those flaws. As well it wouldn’t make sense, Heather Chandler is fat in this remake. Unless they’re going to go full retard with some kind of ‘internalized fatphobia’ shit it wouldn’t make sense to make fun of Martha for that. Heather McNamara is the stereotypical ditzy airhead which doesn’t seem to have changed in this remake so to make fun of someone being ‘slow’ while laughing at an Air-Head-of-Color would just be super duper mean!
If they DO put Martha in, she will either have to still be dumpy, slow and fat and end up being the most popular character in the end for ‘not giving into societies beauty standards’ or some shit, OR she will have to actually flat out die from her suicide attempt to push the EDGE and drive plot.
Either way this whole thing is going to be a train wreck that will either take off at the idiotic rate in which Teen Wolf and Riverdale did or be an utter failure.
I seriously hope for the latter. Sorry this is so long and there are probably some spelling and grammar errors. It’s literally 2:30 in the morning and the Monster I drank is starting to ware off so I’m running on fumes.
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sevensonyeondan · 7 years
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seventeen’s reaction; filming a reality show with their crush
seungcheol; seungcheol would be ecstatic to be filming one fine day with you! as soon as you two and the boys were picking teams, he would choose you right away. he would treat you kindly and act sweet, while teasing and ordering the boys around. of course, you loved it yourself. being treated as if you were royalty by the king himself made you feel on top of the world.
“make way for the king and queen!” 
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jeonghan; this boy is known for being a cheater and sneakster on reality shows, so of course he would make you help him. each time your team played a game against the opposing team, you two would be sneakily cheating and tricking the other team. once during the show, the two teams were to race to an unfamiliar building in a foreign country. you guys had reached the building at the same time as the opposing team, resulting in you and jeonghan shoving the maknaes out of your way to win.
“buahaha! y/n, that was some real teamwork!,”
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joshua; joshua would be glad that you are joining the boys during for one fine day, but he wouldn’t think too much of it. he is very laid back during many reality shows, so you two would just tag along as your team tries to complete the mission, occasionally laughing at the boys as they got frustrated. joshua would enjoy your company though, glad he had someone else to watch over all the boys with.
“the boys are so reckless, i’m happy we can chill together, y/n,”
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junhui; i feel like junhui would be super duper nervous. since he is already pretty shy, having you there would double that. he would definitely enjoy having you with everyone. no doubt. but i see rather admiring you from afar during most of the missions, or secretly help you out if you were on the opposing team. moral of the story, junhui is an adorable shy boy.
“psst! y/n! there is a carat bong up ahead, run!”
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soonyoung; don’t even get me started on this boy. he would be so damn happy to have you on one fine day with him! he would always be by your side, cracking all his best jokes just to hear you laugh! soonyoug and you would be a great team as well, always determined to take down the other teams together.
“are you ready to take these losers down, y/n?”
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wonwoo; wonwoo would be lowkey hella excited to have you with him on the trip. you would basically take the spot of soonyoung, becoming his new target to destroy in each game or mission, or tease every chance you get. he would want to rile you up, smugly laughing once you finally snap and come after him. this boy would be living.
“y/n~ do you remember that time you slipped and nearly tripped an elderly man during the first mission? good times~”
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jihoon; bringing you along on the trip would probably be the best thing that ever happened to him. with all the boys acting crazy competitive, he felt a need to join them and destroy the other team merciless. thankfully, you kept him rather sane, which he was very grateful for. but don’t worry, you two do destroy the team merciless at least once or twice.
“yah! calm down everyone, it’s just a game, we are here to have fun. right y/n?”
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seokmin; the better teams better watch out, here comes the best goofy duo to ever set foot on the earth. seokmin and you would have a dandy time during one fine day, constantly creating new inside jokes and brightening the mood for both your team and the opposing. as obnoxious as you two could get, everyone found you guys rather adorable together. 
“let’s crush the other team with our kind words and nice actions! woohoo!”
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mingyu; if you guys watched one fine day season one or two, you know mingyu is such a mom and team player. he carried his team to the best of his abilities! now that he has a partner to help him, you two would immediately become the “mom and dad™” of your team, take charge in stressful situations. 
“it’s hard taking care of our children- team, uh, team, right y/n?”
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minghao; oh lordy. the other team better watch out because here comes partners in crime, part time idol and part time idol’s friend, full time savage duo, minghao and y/n. you two would most likely be making snarky comments throughout the whole show, snickering to each other at the comebacks you guys have come up with. 
“y/n, look! isn’t jeonghan-hyung cheating? yaH!”
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seungkwan; golly gee, you guys would have a wonderful time annoying the shit out of everyone. seungkwan is already a sassy boy, but just being with him would bring out your inner sass. you guys would always be annoying your team captain, using cringe worthy aegyo to either get what you want, or get smacked.
“ahh~ mingyu-hyung~ y/n and i are thirsty! let’s buy some milk~”
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vernon; throughout seasons one and two of one find day, vernon has usually been on the side for both. he is usually always chilling quietly, or laughing at the hilarious jokes the rest of the members would make. similar to joshua, he would enjoy your company on the trip, happy there was someone to spectate on the side with him.
“y/n! y/n! look at seungcheol-hyung and seungkwan arguing over the mission! aren’t they hilarious?”
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chan; we aLL knOw chan loves competing for the chance to order around his hyungs and take charge. you would of course support him, understanding his struggle since he was the maknae. each time their was a vote for team captain or a ranking of members, you would always vote for him! lil’ chan would blush furiously, grateful to have you be there to help him rise to the top!
“but jeonghan-hyung! y/n thinks i should be captain! and y/n is always right!”
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i love this idea! it’s so cute ‘n full of shyness! i loved both seasons of one fine day, so i decided to use gifs from both seasons! thanks for request anon, don’t forget to send in more requests for admin river and i!
- 🌱
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corpse-drummer · 7 years
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@tarinya-quinn​ tagged me for questions now too! Golly-gee, shucks! Thank ya’ m’lady.
Rules: Answer thirty questions, then tag twenty blogs you would like to know better. 1. Nicknames? Uhh, geez. AJ, RJ, grandpa, creeper, Corpse Penis (there might be more) 2. Gender? I have those things hanging between my legs which get in the way and cause me much grief. (MALE) 3. Star sign? Two fish munchin’ eachothers box. (Pisces) 4. Height? 5′7″ I think. 5. Time? 1:09 AM 6. Birthday? February 25th 7. Favourite bands?  Don’t make me do this. I don’t do favorites, so I’ll just pick some I like and I can think of at the moment. Mgła, Keep of Kalessin, Lunaris, Spiral Architect, Swallow the Sun, Shape of Despair, Thyrfing, Moonsorrow, Obscura, Ulcerate, Death, Winds, Cannibal Corpse. 8. Favourite solo artists? Hannes Grossmann, Jeff Loomis, Blakkheim’s “Diabolical Masquerade”
9. Song stuck in my head? Don’t have one right now, as I’m listening to music. 10. Last movie watched? Terminator 2 3D (in theater on this past  Tuesday) 11. Last show watched? Game of Thrones 12. When did I create my blog? A bunch of years ago. 13. What do I post? Stuff, nobody really cares what I post anyhow. People either don’t interact with my posts at all, or they unfollow me, haha. 14. Last thing I Googled? gay viking-cowboy... (Keira knows why) 15. Do you have other blogs? 3 others, actually (4 total). One hasn’t been active in a while and one has never been used, just kinda reserved the name. 16. Do you get asks? Pfft, rarely... if at all.  17. Why did you choose your url? It’s one part my old name (corpsepenis) and second part what I am, a drummer. 18. Following? 232 (let me know if I should look at yours and possibly follow you, could use some new ones) 19. Followers? 853 (I just lost a bunch, they were probably bots though). It doesn’t seem like I do though, because nobody seems to care that I post anything, haha. 20. Favourite colours? Dark grey, blood red (don’t like blood though), black, white. I know, I listed two opaques.  21. Average hours of sleep? Ha!!! Not even near enough. 22. Lucky number? I have no luck. 23. Instruments? Drums mostly. I dabble guitar and bass, used to keyboard also (but not in years). 24. What am I wearing? Shoes, socks, boxers, pants, shirt, and Hour of Penance hoodie (all black...) 25. How many blankets I sleep with? One 26. Dream job? Rich douche. I don’t want to work, I just want to be filthy rich so I can actually enjoy my life and hobbies. 27. Dream trip? Trip over a bag of money. Oh you meant destination? Answer remains the same, then we’ll talk. 28. Favorite food? Pizza and Mexican food.. also sugary treats (thanks, I didn’t even have to change this one) 29. Nationality? American, but I’m made up of mostly Italian and some British. 30. Favorite song now? I don’t do favorites.
Do I really have to tag 20 damned others? Fuck. SOME OF YOU JUST DO IT, I ORDER YOU! *back of hand smack*   ...please...? I’m not social enough for this shit.
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ecotone99 · 5 years
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[HM] The Lollygaggings of a Mr.Milcroft T. Mouse; Esquire.
Chapter 1: In which Mr.Mouse dies horribly, probably.
It is of the utmost importance, dear reader, that you do not immediately see the words 'Lollygagging' and come to believe that the hero of this story is prone to flights of fancy and lazing about on sunny afternoons. Indeed, our Mr.Mouse is not at all prone to any such things. He is a very serious mouse of very serious disposition, and he takes his serious work very seriously. He tries not to dwaddle, intellectual though he may be, and would feel very disrespected should you suggest such a thing.
No no, dear reader, his current constitutional is a very serious matter indeed, for at the current moment he is running for his life.
As fast as his tiny legs can carry him, he zips up the underbrush and beneath the overhanging branches that shield the forest floor from excessive light; he bounds over stones and leaps over streams, ducking, moving, sliding, always turning to look behind him to make sure the predator is not following.
Every noise he hears could be his doom, every movement of leaf or twig could be the maws of a hungry beast, and when everywhere you turn could send you to your demise, what is there to do but hunker up, put your head down, be as quiet as a mouse, and wait for the threat to move along.
Mr.Mouse hated this part. Bunkered tightly in the rip of a tree-trunk, he hated this part, the waiting, more than anything else. He hated waiting, wondering if he should be running, and running only to wonder if he should be waiting. He hated the jolts of fear he got whenever he heard something, saw something, smelled something, and had to convince himself it was just the wind lest he get startled out of his wits. But most of all, Mr.Mouse hated that this creature, who only saw him as a meal and had no appreciation for Mr.Mouse’s excellent cookies or skill as a Barrister, could decide his fate.
This feeling of powerlessness.
This feeling of being a mouse.
He hated it so much that he had half a mind to march right out and tell the brute “Come here and fight me!!” and take an honourable last stand; something, anything to show that he was more than a particularly speedy meatball. Would he die? Of course he would! But he would die on HIS terms, knowing th- oh, wait a moment, he about jumped out of his skin at the sensation on his shoulder. Was it a tongue? A paw? Heavens forbid a tooth. It was right behind him, wasn't it. About to get him, about to gobble him whole the moment he turned and- hm? What's this? Itching? Oh, some bark pieces just got underneath Mr.Mouse's shirt collar. Brush it off. All better. Now, where was he.
Wait a moment.
Bark pieces? From above?
Mr.Mouse looked up, and was eye to eye with the largest serpent he'd ever seen; the very one he had the misfortune to hop over, for its camouflage convinced him it was just a stick, not five minutes ago. It was massive, with spiteful slited eyes that spelled death, and a greedy mouth that billowed an aroma of putrid meat. It was coiled around the tree, it must have followed him, so silently, so stealthily, so that he must have thought he was looking at sticks again, and oh mercy did it ripple so strangely as it came down, dangling lower and lower toward him, twisting and turning in its descent, coiling and uncoiling again so that its muscles tore at the bark beneath it, causing it to rip and fray and fall upon Mr.Mouse's tiny shoulders.
He was stuck, frozen in fear, he could not will his muscles to move no matter how he commanded them. All he could do was wait while the serpent hung languidly lower and lower, its scaly, nay, slimy face drooping closer and closer, its slithering tongue lapping the scent of terror, its very form tightening around his neck like a noose, until...
It booped its nose against our dear Mr.Mouse's.
“You're it” she said, in a voice that sounded like sugar. “What?” came the squeaky reply. “You pounced on me to start playing, then you started running, so… I guess we were playing tag. I just caught up with you. You're it now. Oh, is this the part where I say tag? Tag. You're it”.
Mr.Mouse eyed her suspiciously. This was a trick, wasn't it? Some predators are known to toy with their prey when caught, is this what that meant? Is this a false sense of security? Is this a trap? She could have killed him had she wished to, but perhaps it is the delight of betrayal over fear that rules some rather than others.
“You're it now” she continued, “so that means you chase me, I guess. You're very fast though. I bet you'll catch me in no time” she noted, cheerily. Then she began slithering away.
My golly gee gracious she was serious. She actually thought they were playing a game of tag while he was in fear for his life. Is she unusual? Well, of course she must be, but is something wrong with her? Now is not the time to question such things! Now is the time to escape. “Um, actually” Mr.Mouse called. She stopped, tilting her large head to listen better.
“I think I'm tuckered out for the day, so...I'm...going to...go home now” “Oh.” replied the snake, with the perfect amount of disappointment. “That's alright. You ran really fast. That must tire anyone out. I'm tired too. But, if that's the case, we can play tomorrow, can't we?” “Um, yeah, sure”. Anything, he just had to say anything so he could step away and get back to the comfort of his burrow, anything to get away from this mad creature.
“I'm glad. That makes me happy. I hope knowing we can play tomorrow makes you happy too. If it doesn't, just tell me, and we can do something else instead” “Sure, alright, splendid” cried Mr.Mouse as he hastily waved goodbye and scampered off toward his den. Ms.Snake paused before waving back, considering what she might have to wave with. Lacking arms, she decided on her tail; a little waggling motion back and forth. Confusing, for never having used her tail that way, but it felt most polite. Lovely. That's the spirit.
Yet Mr.Mouse could not care less about whether she waggled her tail upwards or downwards or in any number of directions. He was simply excited, just chipper, to be on his way back home, decidedly not dead, and especially never ever having to deal with such a strange, horrid, awful serpent ever again.
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Text
“Hi, I’m Elliott.”
“Goodmorning Elliott,” the group responded back in a unison monotone.
“I’m feeling…” I sit up straight in my chair, holding the laminated sheet firmly in my clammy hands. There are over twenty words on this sheet but none of them describe what I’m feeling at this moment. “Um… I guess I’m tired and maybe a little anxious.” I flip the sheet over and follow the script like we do every day. I’m surprised I haven’t memorized it already. “My goal for today is to speak in group because I haven’t been really doing that and uh…the last skill that I practiced was deep breathing.” I hand the sheet to the person sitting to my right and slide down a little in my chair to relax.
There are eleven other kids to get through and I was unfortunate enough to go first. It was only because I was sitting the closest to our group’s leader and head nurse, Kevin. Kevin didn’t look too much older than the rest of us, probably in his late twenties early thirties but he did show signs of balding. Being the head nurse of the young adult wing in an inpatient facility can do that to you. At least I assume that’s why he’s balding considering the amount of chaos this place sees on a daily basis. Wing 6 is a mixed bag of teenage angst and hormonal outbursts. I have been through the muck with them for two full weeks today.
“Are we celebrating your two week anniversary of padded cells, strait jackets, and mashed potato meals tonight? I bet they’d even make you a cake,” the voice behind me whispered as they squeezed my shoulders with their slender fingers.
“Golly-gee Erin, you remembered,” I replied with sarcasm and a smile, my signature.
“Ladies, you’re interrupting Molly who was just about to tell us her goal for the day,” Kevin reminded us with one of his parental glares.
“Sorry Kev, its Elliott’s two week anni today! And I promised her the full Wing 6 treatment with balloons, cake… you know the works,” Erin replied expressively using her hands to map out the scene.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I met Erin on my first day in the lounge of the facility. She saw a stuffed animal in my luggage and commented that she had the same one at home. It was a red panda that I got from the Bronx Zoo when I was a kid. Then she proceeded to tell me that we couldn’t have stuffed animals because people hid drugs and other things in there that weren’t allowed in the program. Bandit the panda, alongside my shoe laces, hoodie and pants strings, razor and floss reside in a locker with a printed name tag until I claim them when I leave this place.
“Can I finish,” Molly asked with an audible sigh and an eye-roll.
If eye-rolls could kill, Molly would have a warrant out for her arrest.
The pacing picked up after that which was good because my stomach was growling loud enough for Erin to hear. She pats her own stomach and pouts like a child. I laugh again. Looking behind me to see the clock at the nurse’s station I squint my eyes to read it: 9:30am. A half hour until breakfast was torture. I turn back around and half listen to Kevin ask the group if we had any complaints concerning the group itself or cleaning issues. Molly raises her hand instantly and stands up to face the group with her arms folded.
“I’m saying this again because it’s super gross but whoever is leaving the tables sticky with juice in the morning and afternoon needs to clean up after themselves. I’m tired of getting stuck to the tables when I’m playing cards.”
Boyish giggles erupt in the back of the room. They high five each other and make lewd gestures with odd hand signals.
Boys are so weird.
“Thank you Molly, I’ll be sure to keep my eye on that,” Kevin replies and clicks his pen against his clipboard to write the complaint down. He looks down at his wristwatch, rubs his balding head with the other hand, and then looks back up at the group. “Half hour until breakfast, you know the drill. Line up five minutes before in front of the door and one of the staff will take you down to the cafeteria.”
We all stand up, pushing the chairs back to their normal resting places. Erin hooks an arm around my neck and pulls me in tight.
“You’ve made it two weeks in this hell hole, El. I’m the proudest mom out there.”
“Oh cut it out,” I roll my eyes and tickle her sides. She lets me go.
“Hey, I’m allowed to gush about your success. You’ve made it through the 48 debacle after your break down your first week, stayed in the program, and even opened up in group a little. It’s progress,” she stands in front of me, pinching my chubby cheeks like my aunt does on Christmas Eve.
I let out a dramatic sigh. She grins and pulls me in for a tight hug. I’m not much of a hugger but Erin became like another appendage to me in here. Her bubbly personality, positive attitude and overall sarcastic demeanor would never clue you into the fact that she’s been in and out of inpatient facilities since she was nine. The only clue on the surface you have is her bandaged arms from her last attempt. I’m not going to lie to you; I looked at them constantly the first time we met. She doesn’t talk about it, not even to me, but I know this last time was really bad. Erin pulls back and puts her hands on my shoulders. I relax a little and she shines her toothy grin at me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you, I’m looking past you.” Her whole face is bright with an ‘I know something you don’t know’ look.
“If you don’t tell me what’s going on I’m kicking you out of our group for spades tonight.”
She feigns hurt and pouts like a four year old. “How dare you! You know I’m always the best at counting books. You need me!”
“I need a partner who isn’t going to keep secrets from me.” I step back and fold my arms across my chest but it’s hard to keep a straight face in front of her.
“Okay okay! You’re no fun, El.” She responds with a defeated tone and pulls me in close. Her hot breath smells like an odd mixture of grape juice and toothpaste. “We have someone new coming in today. I heard Kevin talk to the other nurses about it. He’ll be in 5a with Jack.”
“That sucks for him, Jack’s an asshole.”
“You don’t understand my point.” She blows out a frustrated sigh and continues, “He’ll be the first one to join the group since you got here.”
“Sounds like a shitty situation if you ask me.” I rub my temples with my thumbs. “I really don’t get why you’re so excited about this. He’ll join the league of assholes…probably cause mayhem. I don’t have high hopes. I mean Jack’s old roommate got kicked out from the program because he was sleeping with Molly. And Molly’s family has money so she wouldn’t be able to leave. In the end it was inevitable for Jack to get another roommate. Two plus two equals four. Voila!”
Erin slow claps and saunters over to the couch. Sitting on the arm she falls back and puts her right arm over her face for dramatic effect. “You’re killing me, Elliott. Even my charms, wit, and perfect smile can’t win you over anymore. You used to trust my intuitions and sleuthing. I can’t go on. My best friend… I should just wither away and die in this spot watching my favorite food network program.”
“Oh shut up!” I snort while laughing and extend my hand to help her up. I point to the clock. “You know what time it is?”
“Our favorite time of the day,” she takes my hand, pulling herself off the couch and springs up next to me. She puts her arm over my shoulders and I put mine around her waist. We walk to the door and stand opposite from one another waiting for the rest of the group and staff to bring us down.
The alarm sounds and a code blasts over the intercom. I plug my ears and brace myself against the wall. Several male nurses run out the doors quicker than I can even grasp what is going on. Code Yellow; someone is trying to escape.  
written 11, November 2017
BA Mikulak
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