#search it up. its true. its real. its amazing. try it out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

love--t · 2 years

Text

Love From Italy | Part One

Pairing: Seonghwa X Reader

Genere: Fluff, love at first sight, Strangers to lovers.

Warnings: mentions of smoking, Indications that reader is Female

Word count: 2255K

a/n: Hello everyone! i hope you're doing amazing. This story is set in italy, i am not italian so i'm sorry if the language is not accurate or the setting but i did make sure to do my research.

Please like and reblog. feed back is high appreciated, thank you for reading :)

Love from Italy | Part Two

Park Seonghwa ran his hands through his freshly cut blonde hair. A cigarette resting between his pink plush lips as he leaned against the glass balcony door of his small apartment, he took in the dark, breathing out a sigh of relief.

The streets of his rome neighborhood were quiet except for the loud muffled music and the hectic shouting of his friends fighting over UNO coming from his living room.

Don't get the man wrong, he loves his friends, but, he sometimes needs to recharge his social batteries alone and with that, he lit the cigarette and leaned against the railing of his balcony, exhaling the smoke through his nose and letting his body relax.

The quietness of the night is suddenly disturbed by the sound of a melodious laugh ringing out through the night and the barking of an all familiar dog.

Seonghwa snaps his attention to the figure on the street in front of him cooing at the dog he has seen for years roaming around the neighborhood. The scenery brought a small smile to his lips and a beat to his "cold" heart for the first time in years.

His hard gaze softened when he was met with the most exquisite pair of eyes.

Your laughter rang out through the starry night as you made your way back to the house you're staying at.

It had been your dream since you were a child to come to the city of Rome and when your best friend had decided to have her wedding in italy you obviously couldn't shy away at her offer of paying for your ticket.

After a round of drinks with friends that live in the beautiful city , it was time for you to go home, but on your way you were joined by a dog trying to bite the flowing trail of your dress.

"Let's go!" you shouted to the stray dog as you ran down the cobble road for it to chase you.

The small dog ran after you, its tail wagging wildly from side to side ,barking from happiness as the dog caught up to you.

"Aww you caught me!" You squealed as the dog jumped and laid his paws on your waist as if it were hugging you.

You smiled down at the dog as it panted from happiness, sitting down in front of the K9, you scratched at the base of its ear making the animal flutter its eyes shut leaning into your touch, you cooed at the action and squealed when he started moving his paw.

"Carina" A deep smooth voice Spoke loudly.

You gasped in fright, scrambling to get to your feet, as you searched around for the voice, but a deep blush decorated your cheeks when you were met with the dark eyes of a stranger.

You stared up at the handsome man in front of you, watching as his muscular arms flexed, as he slowly stood to his full height, his sharp eyes not once leaving yours, he let out a chuckle of disbelief at what was happening.

It wasn't possible that Seonghwa had fallen in love at first sight. He didn't believe when his parents told him their story and he definitely didn't believe when his best friends Wooyoung and san spoke about how they fell in love when their eyes locked.

To him the thought of falling in love was a lie, his heart once being broken by the person he thought he would marry only for it to end.

But the way his body is reacting made him believe that maybe just maybe it was true, that maybe all the shit San spewed about destiny and soulmates was real.

A Strange feeling washed over you as your heart started beating faster, palms sweating and stomach squeezing from butterflies flying rapidly.

Little did you know the stranger in front of you was feeling the exact same way, he couldn't see or hear anything but you, he grabbed onto the railing, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, making sure not to fall to his knees from the faintness that washed over him.

A few moments passed till you chuckled, snapping the man out of his daze.

You looked behind you, scratching your head, looking at anything but him, you let out a soft cough as you mustered up the courage to look back at his captivating eyes.

"um... i'm sorry i don't speak italian"

Seonghwa tensed at the sound of your voice.

"I said Cute," he replied in a deep english voice while taking a drag of the cigarette.

You blushed at his words and looked down at the dog who was now lying on his back. You hummed in reply to his words, bending down as you spoke out.

"Do you say that to all of the stray dogs?"

"No," He answered "only to cute strangers that like to play with dogs"

You stopped caressing the dog, your whole body freezing as a flush of warmth coursed through your body.

Clearing your throat, you gave the dog one last pat and got back to your feet.

A few moments of silence passed as you shyly glanced back at the stranger, only to realize he had already been looking at you, red covering both of your faces at being caught making eyes.

"Well" you started, "it was nice meeting you but it's getting late and i have to go"

You didn't want the night to end but you had to go back to your reality, you'd be leaving in a few days and you'd never see him again.

"Wait!" the boy exclaimed "let me walk you home"

"No, No it's literally just - " You protested, but before you could finish he had already put out the bud of his cigarette and made his way into his home.

A few seconds of silence passed when all of a sudden chanting could be heard through the open door, causing giggles to erupt from you.

A smaller boy with a big smile walked out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing to get a better look at you.

"Guys!" he Screeched looking behind him "she's real!" You stared up at the boy with wide eyes.

"Wooyoung get back in here!" came another voice, belonging to a blonde cat eyed boy. He grabbed his boyfriend by the ear and apologized for his actions while he dragged him back into the living room, the boy known as wooyoung, Whining to whoever else was in the apartment about how pretty you are.

Suddenly a door opens and there is Seonghwa in all of his glory, now sporting a black leather jacket.

"Hi" He Whispers as he stops in front of you.

" Hello" you whisper back, a small smile forming onto your face.

"You know, your friends are quite something" You said, your gaze slowly trailing up to his balcony.

The blonde boy looked at you confused, his eyes landing on the group of 7 boys looking down at both of you with amused smiles on their faces.

"I swear to god if you guys don't go back into the living room i'm making you clean the house for a month." Seonghwa threatened jokingly, making the boys scramble back into the house, not wanting to feel the wrath of the eldest.

"Are they always like that?" you questioned, your gaze scanning his side profile.

He sighed, placing his hands on his hips and throwing his head back.

"Annoying? yeah"

You chuckled at his response, making the boy smile, showing his pearly white teeth.

"Lead the way" He said, letting you walk in front of him.

You both walked side by side down the streets at a slow pace, Conversation coming easy as if you were friends seeing each other again after years apart and hearts feeling fuller than ever.

During the walk you both sat down on a park bench, in front of the house you're staying at.

"So," He started, "What brings you to rome?"

You glanced up at the night, hands by your side on the bench "I'm here for a wedding, my best friend is getting married".

He hummed at your answer, his hand slowly inching its way towards you "Congratulations to her, when's the big day?"

"A week from now" you smiled at the thought of seeing your friend get her happy ending.

Seonghwas chest swelled with happiness at your smile, he barely even knew you but he already knew he wanted to see that smile everyday.

“You’re boyfriend is one lucky man to be taking you to the wedding”

You glanced back at the boy who was waiting eagerly for your next words. "It's just me," you replied, moving your hand to push away a strand of her, making the boy pull his hand away without you noticing. “No boyfriend or anyone” you whispered the last few words.

You heard him let out a sigh of relief, making you raise your eyebrow, a small smirk gracing your face, you shook your head at the thought of the beautiful man wanting to take you to the wedding, remembering that you are strangers.

"Thank you for walking me home"

"The pleasure was mine," he replied with a smile.

Silently you both got up, hands brushing against each other. Timidly you wrapped your pinky with his, both of your breaths hitching at the feeling of electricity.

Once at your door he let go of your pinky, letting you fish out your keys.

"Carina" He whispered, Leaning in and giving you a soft peck on the cheek.

"May we meet again" He trailed his hand down your shoulder, to your forearm and last to your hand where he gripped it tightly before sliding his own down your finger tips as he walked backwards from you leaving both of your hands in the air for a second as you both brought it down slowly, eyes not once leaving till he turned around and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

You opened the door wish shaky hands, taking deep breaths as you closed it softly, making sure to not wake up your bestfriend and her fiance as they slept on the second floor

You leaned against the closed door, trying to get your racing heart to slow down, what had this man done to you?

you ran up the stairs to the room you're using and opened the balcony door slowly.

Only to see the blond still standing there with a big smile on his face.when suddenly threw his fist up in the air and did a little dance that made you chuckle.

You shook your head and closed the door, throwing yourself to your bed, When suddenly a feeling of pain blossomed in your chest at the thought of the man.

You forgot to ask his name.

Come on y/n! make a wish" Screamed your friend over the sound of bustling tourists and street music floating around the center of rome.

You sighed, turning your gaze to the perfectly carved statue of Neptune that sat above the waters of the infamous Trevi Fountain.

"You know i don't believe in that," you rolled your eyes, staring back at your hopeful friend, holding up a golden coin to you.

"Please?" She pouted, making bambi eyes at you.

You huffed out and snatched the coin from her awaiting hand, making her jump up and down from happiness.

"You know they say that if you throw two coins you will find love in Rome"

The girl slid another golden coin into your hands, giving you a little smile and a pat on your shoulder, walking away to her fiance who was taking a photo of the fountain. With a hint of sadness in your eyes you watched as she gave him a kiss on the cheek, making you caress your own at the thought of the soft lips that were there just a few hours ago.

You turned your back to the fountain, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

What do I even wish for?

You wracked your brain for the most barbaric thing you could ask for just to prove once and for all to the universe that you weren't their favorite child.

You chuckled loudly to yourself once your thoughts landed on the blonde mysterious man from last night. You thought about the way he made you feel from just one look.

Maybe, just maybe if the gods granted you this one wish, you might just believe in love again.

You felt the wait of the second coin in your left hand, deciding to bring both coins into your right hand. You whispered your wish to yourself, kissed the coins and threw it over your left shoulder. Waiting for the sounds of the coins plopping into the water never came. You slowly opened your eyes, only for your breath to hitch, a big smile forming onto your face at the sight in front of you.

"Carina" Seonghwa smiled, taking off his sunglasses as he made his way towards.

"I'm Seonghwa"

He held his hand out for you to shake.

You stared into his eyes, searching for something in them, only to see a future full of love.

"I'm Y/N"

He smiled big at your name, leaning in he whispered lowly into your ear, making you shiver.

"I guess we have the Universe to thank for this moment”

He pulled away slightly, only to kiss your cheek once again.

a/n: This story was meant to be long but i decided to just write up to here. If anyone wants me to keep going, i'll make this into a mini series. Please remember that Tumblr works off of reblogs and please send in messages, it means alot to us writers.

457 notes · View notes

from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 2 months

Note

Hihi I don’t know where to find more about this (and frankly want your opinion more lol) so what are the genes like in Rohan? Is it possible there’d be darker browns and almost Numenorean blacks? And red-heads? I mean, could you specify with like percentages lolol and I would sooo love if you include like regional differences omggg

Well, race in Middle Earth is a topic that a lot of ink has already been spilled on, and by people who are much smarter and better qualified to opine than I am. So, up top, I encourage people to seek out those smarter voices.* But I guess I’ll say that my general take is that it is simultaneously true that a) Tolkien trafficked in some harmful race-based tropes and imagery and he used ideas about genetics (the high/middle/low man hierarchy he created) that are gross; but ALSO b) despite what some loud and hateful chuds would have you believe, there’s no real canonical evidence to support the claim that the people in the various communities of Middle Earth were all of one particular race or another. So there could and should be a whole variety of appearances and traits.

As to my personal opinion of Rohan…there are people of all kinds in the world, and so I imagine Rohan to similarly have people of all kinds. I know that’s not as specific an answer as your question posed, but I try to leave my writing open enough (like, I usually go very sparse on character physical descriptions) that a reader can picture people in a bunch of different ways, and if some people see Wídfara (for example) as Black and others as Asian or indigenous American or white or etc., I think that’s all valid and good. The more Wídfaras in the world, the better, as far as I’m concerned.

One of the things I like best about fandom is that we aren’t stuck with any one particular conception of anything. Lots of people have their own ideas about Rohan, and those different Rohans can exist side-by-side in the fanfic and fan art spaces so that we have a wealth of alternatives to like and admire. Some of my fave Rohan fan art has been pieces that imagine the Rohirrim as being of Mongolian heritage or that mix Rohirrim culture from the books with traditional Japanese elements, and I love that those exist alongside the art that hews closer to the Anglo-Saxon/Norse aesthetic that tends to show up most often in visual representations. (I would love to link to some of this art, but the Tumblr search function is not my friend and isn’t allowing me to easily pull it up now. One that I can put my hands on, though, is the work of Leia Ham, which is amazing and imagines Rohan (and other parts of Middle Earth) in an ancient Chinese context.)

So I guess what I’m saying is that I think anything is possible, and that’s a good thing.

*Mallorn, the journal of the Tolkien Society, has actually done a good job of giving space to those voices in the last few years, a positive development I attribute to the good influence of its editor Luke Shelton, who is to all appearances a Good Dude.

#answered asks

8 notes · View notes

pants-magic-pants · 8 months

Text

✧⊹JARETH BALLROOM COAT⊹✧

[This post is part of a series about constructing Jareth's entire masquerade ball costume. Visit the master post here.]

Fabric Selection [Part 1 of 2] The Saga of the Metallic Valvet

Welcome back to another episode of Coat Construction. I want to first say that my decisions about fabric, and many other things, were informed by the amazing reference photos I had from both Aria Couture and Yosa Addiss. This post will make more sense after you've looked through all those glorious images of the actual costumes. I may also sometimes be referencing AC in my commentary. I stand on their shoulders, and cannot be given even half the credit for all the great costume study that's already been done about this coat.

With that, let's get to it!

One thing I have noticed is that screen accurate fabric for this costume is extremely hard to come by, and it seems as if those of us who’ve done this cosplay raked over google enough to happen upon, and choose, the same fabrics?! Or at least consider them? I suspect I’ve seen the same golden damask fabric used for Jareth’s cummerbund amongst me and two other cosplayers. Hahaha More on that in the cummerbund post.

What I really want to talk about is the royal blue/navy colored metallic velvet that makes up the coat. It’s like a majestic night sky, but not midnight – late evening, when the darkness plays with the vivid blue of the day. The decorations on top of it are entire constellations, planets, comets, meteors...

I think the important thing to know about the fabric and to insist upon is that it’s real velvet, and not velour, nor velveteen (even though the Jim Henson exhibit sign says it is. It just AIN’T. Whoever wrote that sign needs a talking-to.)

So, what is the difference between all of these? They’re all woven fabrics made from usually silk or cotton. They each have a pile, which is a raised surface comprised of loops or strands of yarn (think carpet). Velvet has a long pile, and it’s usually very glossy and soft, and it more easily drapes over things. Velveteen has a very short pile and less sheen, and it can be a bit stiff. Velour is what you see more often in stores, because it’s an affordable look-alike to velvet, made with less luxurious cotton or synthetic fibers, and it’s stretchy. People will use the terms “velvet” and “velour” interchangeably, but they’re not the same. True velvet doesn’t stretch.

And that is why it’s the best and really only option for this coat. You’ve seen it. It’s heavy, and has heavy things hanging off of it. To be more specific, every step of the way while creating it I was being harassed by gravity. Gravity was trying to claim this velvet back to the depths… I’ve said it before: turning it into a coat felt highly non-consensual because of the heaviness and slippery nature of the materials.

That being said, weight puts stress on the seams, and even if your seams are stabilized, a fabric that’s not sturdy enough or yields to any kind of tugging is not going to be good, and it could lead to warped or misshapen areas. There’s also the glue and jewel shenanigans (which my friend calls Crust). They need to be able to cling to something that reliably keeps its shape. The ballroom coat is extremely structured and exudes power – we wouldn’t want it to start looking like a popped souffle, or like it was melting, would we?

From here I also want to point out that the coat seems to be made from velvet with metallic fibers. This means that it’s classified as a type of lurex - and you can read more about it here. This is different from foiled. Any fabric described as “foiled” if you were to try searching for metallic velvet, is not what you’re looking for. Foiling is the process of adding a metallic sheen to the surface of fabric, usually with heat. It tends to look a lot more solid and shiny, rather than sparkling. The process does not result in soft fabric, either, so it definitely messes with the pile and is much less elegant. Lurex, on the other hand, incorporates metallic fibers in just the same way you’d dot the night sky with stars. ;)

ANYWAY. Since I spent months and months roaming multiple search engines, and don’t wish for others to have to suffer through it and waste their time, I have some opinions to share about what I found. Some of these fabrics have even been mentioned by Labyrinth cosplayers as possibilities.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

Mood Fabrics - Ava Navy Metallic Velvet (Link)

I’ve seen this fabric mentioned by a commenter on Aria Couture’s blogs, because it really does seem like a possible match. I bought a swatch of this fabric, thought about it for months, and then finally bought four yards, but returned them. Here’s what I have to say:

The company is reputable. They treat their fabric and customers with care. This fabric is gorgeous and quality, but it didn’t work for me because the shade of blue was too warm and light to match everything else. I only came to this realization after buying four yards of it, because the swatch that they originally sent was (I suspect) from a time when they were using a slightly different dye. What this means for anyone else is that they may not be able to rely on the swatch to make their decision. I had to return it, but they were very understanding. I still very well think that someone could use this to make a beautiful Jareth ballroom coat, if their color scheme is a little warmer.

Here are comparison photos of the swatch and the actual fabric that was sent, however. Just so you can see what I mean.

(The swatch is on the bottom, the actual fabric sent is on top.)

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

Blue Moon Fabrics - D Isis Foiled Stretch Velvet in Black/Royal (Link)

I ordered a swatch of this. I have a friend who also did, and was happy with it, so I feel like kind of a jerk for writing here that I don’t think it works, but I really truly don’t, and I want to save anyone from starting a project with it, only to have it possibly ruined. The reason why this fabric doesn’t work is that it’s very stretchy, and I just know that it couldn’t handle all the stress that would be put on it. In person, it also is an extremely bright, electric blue that will steal the show and will not serve as a good backdrop for all the top decorations. In terms of “what type of sky” it is, it’s more like 7pm on LSD. *covers mouth and laughs* But it’s still cool on its own.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

Etsy Seller AlexLAFabrics - Lurex Velvet (Link)

The reason why I’m including this is because it was listed as lurex velvet, appears to be so, and has possibly the right coloring, so it may be easy to find this one and consider it, because I certainly did. Well, I’m here to say do not bother with it unless you’re willing to sacrifice $30 just to find out what this fabric is like in person. The photos aren’t good enough to tell the true shade of blue, there’s no info on how it behaves, and the guy won’t offer you a swatch or get back to your messages.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

Zelouf Fabrics – Lurex Velvet in Navy (Link)

The fabric I ended up using. It’s lurex velvet, it’s the perfect shade, but it’s not super quality, definitely not as quality as the Ava Navy velvet from Mood. It was sometimes quite offended by being handled, and didn’t appreciate steam. It seemed a little thin for true velvet, and it puckered so relentlessly that I had to buy a new f*@#%ng sewing machine, and by then there were a couple of seams that had been redone so many times that the edges were… how to put it? Like skin without collagen. There were entire pieces that had to be re-cut, it was so bad.

The company also kinda sucks. Originally, I bought four yards, and it arrived shoved into a plastic wrapping that had been poked throughout transit and bursted open on my tabletop. The fabric inside had been severely abused, obviously not stored well, wrinkled, poked, torn, and they STAPLED the order details onto it. Come on. I wrote a stern email, and was not met with much professionalism, but they also weren’t out for my money and owned up to the mistake. They refunded me and then sent another four yards which was less abused, but still a little sad. Ended up with eight free yards, and some of the more abused fabric could still be used for parts of the coat that were buried under lace.

Ultimately, what I would say is… I have a love-hate relationship with it. It’s beautiful when it wants to be, very soft, and I can’t say I’d have picked something else if I did the project again, because for me it was the best option.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

Here is one more interesting but sort of outrageous photo, of me holding the Mood Ava Navy fabric together with the Blue Moon D Isis fabric.

You can see all the ways that these two fabrics are different!

Anyway, I hope my bit of foot-work and 2c is valuable to someone, no matter what project they're working on or thinking of working on. The coat took about 14 months to complete, and for at least 5 of those months, I was in a stalemate about velvet. Hoping I can save someone else from that.

There will be another post about the lining fabric. There will also be separate posts about making the cummerbund and the shirt, so those will include information about choosing those fabrics.

Thanks for reading! If you've made it this far and appreciate any of my content, I'm going to be obnoxious and mention that I set up the tip function on this blog. All the posts have a button that looks like this ($) where you can tip me however much you want. This helps me be able to afford further work on this costume, and to go to events where I and fellow Labyrinth cosplayers can create content for you. Yay!

-Jareth--- uh I mean Jenny

#jareth cosplay #labyrinth cosplay #ballroom costume #jareth ballroom coat #coat construction #fabric selection

22 notes · View notes

alwida10 · 6 months

Note

Bestie, you keep talking about the viewership article of Loki for ages. When will you put it up? I'm going insane with people claiming its the best thing ever

Ahhhh 😱 my bad conscience learned to send Tumblr asks!!!! 😱😱 /joke

And yes. You got me there. 😭 after season 2 ended, I told myself it was necessary to wait a bit so the Google Trends graphs wouldn’t look so chopped off, and ended up procrastinating the post because I never wanted to think about *that* show ever again. 😭

But yes - be assured - while the defenders of the show are often vicious and try to make it look like it was generally loved, the stats paint another picture. (The same was true for season 1, though. I recommend taking a look at this amazing analysis posted on Reddit.) For now, let’s take the rough overview of season 2 from Google Trends here.

Google Trends only provides relative graphs (=percentages of a maximum), but in a way this makes it even better. The public interest in Loki peaked with season 1 (airing from 09. June - 14. July 2021). Season two (5. October - 9. November 2023) sparked about half of the interest. Overall, that’s a pretty clear picture season 2 lost a lot of viewer interest.

But let’s look into the details, meaning the single episodes. Here we have the first three ones (released on the 5th, 12th and 19th October).

Each episode marks a small peak in interest. Typically, the interest decreases over a season, so the first episode being the biggest hit is no surprise. The decrease however is. As a reminder: season 1 suffered a 30% decrease in viewership between episodes 1 and 3, which was considered horrible at the time. While this graph does not reflect viewership but Google searches, the decrease between episodes 1 and 3 is still 50%. (Also, I kinda prefer Google stats to viewership stats since they reflect how much real interest the series managed to create, leaving out all those people who mindlessly consumed the series without thinking further. It does however have the bias that an incomprehensible plot might inflate the numbers because people look for explanations online.)

The first peak in the next pic is again episode 3, followed by 4 (26. October), 5 (2. November), and the last episode (9. November). It’s easily visible that the finale has created the most interest. Sadly, Google Trends did not provide a graph where all the episodes could be compared, but based on the fact that the episode 3 peak was half as high as the one for episode 1, we can estimate that the episode 1 peak would have been at approximately 55-60% in this graph.

So why is that interesting? The two most interesting episodes were the opening and the finale. That’s not that unusual, but in the end, it still burns down to the fact that people kinda tuned out in between. I wouldn’t exclude the possibility that the major questions regarding Loki’s future (is he dead now? Can people visit him? How did this work?) inflated the peak for the finale.

Ok, but what about the actual views?

Well, I can never compete with thochi-1’s analysis, but I’ll do my best. But first this gem:

So, apparently, the 50% drop in Google Trends is associated with a 39% drop in viewed minutes.

For the overall season, the Hollywood reporter says this:

Summarized: only two-thirds of viewers from season 1 returned for season 2. The ones who did return showed about 15% less engagement in googling our beloved god of mischief.

I have another, personal reason to find that little fact particularly interesting. In the Loki survey, 26% of all respondents indicated they disliked the show. At the time of the survey, some people assumed this number to be falsely inflated, because I was more active in the “anti-series fandom”. Given the viewing numbers of season 2, I feel sadly validated. After all, the drop of 35% is even higher than my estimates.

#mcu loki #loki series criticism #loki series negativity #loki series critical #Writing is hard

16 notes · View notes

angeltreasure · 10 months

Note

Could you give me some advice or i don’t even know but anything that you have learned on your journey with God or in general as a Catholic for not doing or experiencing stuff in the world that most people see as amazing or fulfilling and I guess for more context like when people say that some things that are the best and brag about doing things or going places like I know a lot of it can come down to Instagram but I guess in real life too.

I still think I’m early in my faith journey so there’s still a lot I’m learning, but before I knew God I would be one of those people who tried to keep up with the world and would stress but try to show off what I’d done or so called cool things but actually I was really sad so I know it can be lies. It’s so hard sometimes because I think this is something that is used against me to try and stress me out and no matter how many times I say I’m done, it sfill gets me sometimes

Good Morning!,

I know exactly what you are going through, because I experienced this myself growing up in picking schools. We had all kinds of trends growing up and everyone wanted to keep up with the latest trend, the newest popular fashion of high quality brands, who could get the most piercing, who could download Snapchat to get that dog face filter, who could do the best duck face, who could get the best senior year photo, who had the most animal bracelets made of rubber bands, who bought the latest bracelet being sold by the after school group, etc etc etc.

Before we know it, we find ourselves a clone of the rest of the boys or girl and now we have anxiety trying to meet impossible expectations and try to fit in so the crowd doesn’t make us outcasts. You’ll find yourself sad and empty, with a void in your heart that can never be filled. The void in your heart is a God shaped hole that only God Himself can fill.

When we examine ourselves as Catholics, we need to stop and take a step back. All the friend circles all the social media all the shows and fashions are of “the world”. They live in the blue sphere but not you, no. Before you can call yourself a student of this school, a student of this college, a baseball player, a cheerleader, a goth, a girly girl, a cosplayer, a Trekkie, a political party, any label, your identity in God comes first. You are a child of God. Look at this verse that I think of often, it’s one I read at my grandma’s funeral:

For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living. You, then, why do you judge your brother or sister? Or why do you treat them with contempt? For we will all stand before God’s judgment seat. It is written: “’As surely as I live,’ says the Lord, ‘every knee will bow before me; every tongue will acknowledge God.’” So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister.

- Romans 14:7-13

You don’t need to keep up with the world. Let the world have its rat race. You are very special. You have the ability to pray for all these people that you feel you need to keep up with. Think of how many do not even know how to pray and thank our Lord. You can be like the only leper that gave thanks to Jesus for healing. Stop searching for your true self in trends. This is who you really are, check this out!:

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, a God! How vast is the sum of them!Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you.

- Psalm 139:1-18

If you ever forget who you are and what you must do, I highly recommend getting a cup of tea or coffee and a little snack, find a comfy place to sit, and open your canon Bible’s New Testament to read the Sermon on the Mount. You can find most answers you probably have about how one must act as a child of God. I never get bored of it.

We have new challenges in our age with the fast information bombarding us everyday, especially with the use of social media. Using social media isn’t in the Sermon on the Mount specifically, but we can learn from Tradition on how to we can use social media with a greater purpose for good. The Vatican released this document that I highly recommend every Catholic to read as soon as possible.

#asks

10 notes · View notes

aestherin · 2 months

Note

Since the latest chapter made me blush hihi🤭 I made something :)

[No painting masterpiece can ever compare to you, you’re beyond the greatest painting of all.]

Being the creator of the city’s best painting certainly has its perks, everyone admires your painting every time they come across them on the road. One day as you were painting on the side of the road, a person came up to you, her clothes looked so professionally worn, have glasses and a name tag. — Miss Iraya, a worker at an art exhibit. She tapped your shoulder and got your attention right away. She spoke in a ringing tone “Uh hello are you Miss Naia Schneider?”(pseudonym) You stopped painting to answer her question;” Yes, I am” you answered in a casual tone, as she replied with “May I see one of your best works?” As you bring out a canvas of your most honorable work. She holds them carefully, scanning them as if there are words in them. She speaks in an amazed tone “Wow… This might be the best work of art I have ever seen…” She then asks “Would you like to join this month’s art exhibit? We can put your artwork in a museum if you want to”

You were taken aback by what she said, Of course you want to but you’re scared? Why? You’re not confident about your abilities yet, since no one asked you this before. So why not try something new? “Yes, I’d like to, thank you for this opportunity. Miss Iraya.” She smiles and says “Oh my, don’t worry about it, you have the potential for it~ I’ll see you around at the exhibition, it’s near Casalantres Dr.” As she leaves, you are feeling contended yet feeling nervous about the exhibition.

As day goes by, the night skies appear, a sign for you to probably go home. You went to pack up your things and left, while walking down the road you noticed something shifted from the road you were walking in, why does it seem so weird? Nonetheless; You continued to walk down the road until you reached your home, and there she was your favourite pet in the whole wide world, Sky. She greeted you and barked showing a sign of a warm welcome to your home, you put your things down and sat by the chair nearby. You felt like you wanted to paint a portrait of someone? As you bring out another canvas and get your things ready; Your sleep catches up to you, but you fight back. You want to finish this for tonight, but with every single minute passing your eyes finally shut.

Your eyes opened again? How strange, because you did shut them before, but looking around you were inside a museum. In a particular section there was only one portrait painting of someone, feels like you’ve seen it before, and that face is familiar. Under the painting, there was a name tag on it named “Scaramouche” That name is something you remembered from your dream, but it can’t be real right? It’s just a dream, you assured yourself. All of a sudden the ground you’re standing in vanishes and morphs into another place, which is your room. You woke up from your slumber state and you looked around again, oh that was just a dream, you checked the time

“20:00”

Which is not that late, you stand up and decide to eat something for the night. While eating you can’t help but think about your dream again, you plan to visit the infamous museum tomorrow just to cut your curiosity down, and you wonder if that painting is real or if was it just an imagination of your dreams again. | The next morning, you went to get ready and go ahead to the museum. There were a lot of people pilling in the line and the place was crowded with a lot of people inside, yet you managed to get through. Once inside, you quickly searched for the painting you saw in your dream. You couldn’t believe it, there it was the painting you were hoping to see. It was truly a dream come true.

Yet then again, you weren’t exactly hoping to see someone today. As your eyes wandered the museum, you saw the person in the painting. What? This must be another dream, right? There’s no way you could’ve seen him, but there he was, standing so gloriously with a warm smile on his face. But you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him, you were bashfully shy to be near him, and you were lucky enough to be even in the same room as him. After some time, you went home after touring around for a while. You were walking down the road calmly until you bumped into someone, you helped him with the things that fell, then you said “I'm so sorry” while bowing down to the person, he smiled and said:” It's fine, don’t worry” He looked up and your eyes met HIS FACE… HIS DAMN FACE… WAIT A MINUTE IS HE- before you could finish your thought: he picked up the items and spoke one last time “Thank you for helping me by the way” and continued his route to walk away. You were stunned in your state but just continued walking until you reached your home. You were so tired, exhausted in fact, that you dis even bother to eat dinner. Sky greets you at the door, excitedly well at least she can brighten up your mood a bit, you feed her treats and go straight to bed.

Your eyes opened once more, and by looking around you saw that you were in that museum again. Except, you saw a familiar shadow as you stepped closer to the figure, he turned around…and it was. HIM, IT WAS HIM. Is it a sign that he showed up in your dream again? You take a step closer to his figure and coincidentally, he turns around.. facing you. You were frozen in place, you were stunned by his beauty, it’s so unreal for it to be seen. Yet there he was standing in front of you, he suddenly spoke in a casual tone “Hello” Hearing his voice is a piece of music to your ears. You replied with a shy manner in your voice “Hi…” This might be stupid but are you a real person? Or am I hallucinating?” You were embarrassed to ask this, why would you even ask that? Suddenly he replied with “Yes, shocking is it not? To think that I’ve only appeared in your dreams two times, a shame you didn’t recognize me when I bumped into you earlier on the road” Your memory started to come back onto you when you heard what he said, THAT WAS HIM?! You were even more shy now! You wish to just drown yourself up but then he speaks again “I heard you signed up for the art exhibition this month hm? Wish to see your artworks too~” Your mind is still conflicted, if you’re in a dream, how could he talk to you?

You then look up and locked gaze with his indigo-blue eyes, it was pretty to look at. You gulper nervously as words start to come out from your lips like this;

“Why would you continue coming up to my dream? I mean is there a reason for it?” He responds while smiling at you “Yes, why would I show up without a reason? By now you know and I know you probably saw the painting in the museum right? Let’s just say that my reason is connected to the girl who interviewed you the other day. Yes, I do know Miss Iraya, I saw you from across the street when she was there.” You gasped when he said that, Is that why you always felt someone staring at you in some weird way? You speak, “So you’ve been watching me do my painting at the roadside? But out of all painters in the city, why me?” He just responds confidently “Meet me to find out~” He then gives you a piece of paper containing the details of the so-called “meet up”

Afterwards, you wake up your blinds illuminating the light of the sun outside.

You stand up and get dressed, just a casual outfit for the day as you make your way down to the kitchen, you are shocked to see a note on your countertop. You’re honestly not that surprised anymore, but still wonder, does he know your address? Nonetheless; You opened the piece of paper and the setting of the meet-up up happening, the letter on the other hand, unfolds the words upon it.

“Good Morning, assuming that you’re probably reading this right now. I just wanna say that I have a gift ready for you, oh well see you later! I’m excited to meet you in person.”

The letter ends with a smile on its paper and your face, how could he make you feel like this? Not minding it much you continued to get ready and after some time, you went out of your house, bringing the paper with you. Looking to the road and into the paper was quite challenging. You squinted your eyes and the place was in your sight, you continued to walk down until you finally reached the “meet up place” You sat down by the nearby bench waiting, until you got a message from an

—Unknown number:

:Hello

You responded by replying:

:Hi? Who’s this?

After a few moments, you get a response saying:

:I can see you, turn around.

——

Confused but you still spun around, there you saw a guy, blonde standing nearby, “Is that him?” You thought but just brushed it off for now. You walked towards him and he turned around to face you. It is him standing there, you were nervous to speak to him once again, But it won’t be harmful to try right? You gathered up the courage to open your lips as words started to come out of it.

“Hey”

as the word was said, he turned around to face you, in his hand was a box with a ribbon attached to it. His face lit up smiling after seeing you, he speaks

“Oh you made it, hehe congratulations~” He then suddenly gave you the box, it wasn’t that quite heavy nor light at all, he spoke again and said “Open it” he looked excited, you wondered what was inside the box? You start to remove the ribbon and open the box carefully.

Inside of it was a necklace paired with a piece of bracelet, with your name on it. “Y/n” you didn’t expect him to do this, it was quite sweet, he then took the necklace and placed it on your neck. It was a beautiful gift, he then took out another bracelet similar to the one you got… It was a matching bracelet, with his name and yours. Your face lit up with a smile and hugged him, he was shaken by the sudden action yet he hugged you back, enjoying your warmth around him, you whispered “Thank you” he whispered in return to your ear saying words “ You’re welcome” while he pats your back. You both pulled back looking content with each other’s presence, he then spoke “ I think, I may have… fallen for you..” You just stood there, shocked at what he said. Not sure what to respond you just say “Look, I don’t want this to be rushed but, we just met and I just feel like…I'm still not ready yet. But please give me time to decide” He just smiled at you and said “Don’t worry, I understand.. we needn't rush :)”

—(The rest of it is where they went to tour the park around <3)

A few days onward, you were just stuck in your room painting for the art exhibition, which is in less than a week. You were focused, letting all of your imagination go wild, even if closing your eyes to feel the emotions through you. A few minutes went by, and you just continued to brush and brush. Half an hour later, your eyes were flashed on the masterpiece you just made, Holding a memorable memory for you and your significant other.

(Your phone buzzed receiving a message from him saying:

—“Hey u busy?”

Wondering why you respond by saying:

// Nope not at the moment, why?

He responds a few minutes later:

—“Let’s meet by the park?”

You suddenly jumped on your bed cause of excitement and couldn’t condemn it inside, you then replied saying:

// “Sure!” ) You stand up, fix your things, and go to pick a casual outfit, you then come downstairs and feed your dog before going out. You shut the front door and went up walking the road ahead of you, after what felt like an eternity you finally reached the park, and there he was. He’s sitting on the bench near a white fountain, and when his eyes land on yours his face quickly sparks excitement inside his eyes, he rapidly goes to you and says “Hey!” You then pull back from the hug and speak in a soft tone “Hey, why’d you ask me out” He pouts at you and says “Isn’t it obvious?? I’ve missed youuuuuu” You chuckled a bit at his cute demeanour, he suddenly pulled your wrist and started to run around the park like a little kid. You two arrived at a cotton candy shop while strolling around you saw different types of custom-made cotton candy! It made you two amazed, so then he decided to order one for the two of you, while waiting you just took a seat on the bench near it.

A few minutes went by and Kuni came back with two sticks in his hand, he handed one to you and it looked like… Night-skies, he then looks at you and says: “Do you think night skies are pretty?” You answer:

“The sky is beautiful, isn’t it?” While saying that, you’re looking into his eyes, that was enough for him to melt in your gaze. He didn’t even notice he was staring at you for that long, he recollects himself by clearing his throat and speaking looking embarrassed “Sorry, might’ve zoned out for a bit, any way you should eat the cotton candy now… before an insect tries to” You just nod at what he said and take a bite out of your sweet-tooth food, a few minutes went by, the topic suddenly changes. He spoke in a genuine tone “ Anyway, The art exhibition is less than a week, did you finish your painting yet?” You just nod at him while still nibbling on your cotton candy silently, he then looks at you and says “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet…” You answer in a bland tone “I’m okay”

As time passed, sadly it was time for the both of you to part ways, he stood up and said “Thanks for tonight, I enjoyed it :)” You looked up to him and said “Me too, I feel comfortable around you” He just smiles and before he started to walk, he looks at you and spoke “Good luck to you at the art exhibition, don’t let me down” You chuckled at his response and answered in a confident tone. “oh I'm sure I won’t be a disappointment”

— The next day, it was time for the art exhibition, the time for you to showcase your best work yet. But you were feeling nervous again, not until a message lit up your phone screen, a good luck message from him. By a sudden flash, it feels like your worries went away immediately! You stand up from your bed and start to get ready; a few minutes later, you pick up your equipment and start walking down the road towards the venue. The place was already crowded and it was hard getting in through but you managed to get in, just in time. You saw a familiar face, it’s Miss Iraya! You came up to her and spoke up “Hello” Her face lit up with a warm smile, and she hugged you gently. She speaks in a friendly tone “Ah there you are! I was wondering when you’ll come, but I'm glad you made it.” She smiles and then asks, “Is the painting ready?” While you answer her with “ Yes, it’s ready. Although I have to say, that this painting is notable and special to me. It’s inspired by someone who holds a special place in my heart.” As you brought out the painting, it was glorious even she looked at it in awe. She says “Aww, that’s sweet. I hope that the painting reaches the person it was meant for. But what’s the name of the painting?” You smiled at her and said “It’s… “Keep my heart(hehe ifykyk) and I hope so too, but I think it already did :)” As you two went back and forth talking, the time passed by and it was time to put your painting up for the audience to see, she then took the painting and placed it neatly. It looked so beautiful, there were excited roars outside the venue, as they opened the doors the people started to wander around the museum. The majority of them went in your direction which shocked you yet it felt relieving, knowing that there are people who appreciate the one you made from the bottom of your heart. As more people came in, it started to get crowded, luckily the museum was too big to have extra spaces.

Aside from presenting your painting, you were hoping to see him as you were just about to lose hope. There he is, he actually came here! You could spot that unique smile on his face and it made you feel fluttering inside. He came up to you and hugged you while saying the words “I’m proud of you.” You hugged him back and almost broke down in tears. He pulled back, looked you in the eyes, and said “I love you.” Those three words were enough to make you have the urge to say it back too, he then asks “Do you love me back as well?” You didn’t know what to say, you’re a coward for not confessing to him. This might make the event even better, you looked up to him and said “I love you too.” You then leaned in and pressed your lips against him, it felt so weird to do it this way but it felt so good. He was shocked yet he just melted in your kiss, enjoying every moment with you was enough for him. He pulled back and smiled at you and said “I love you forever.”

There it was, the best memory that’ll last forever in your memory, oh how sweet it was and you wish to repeat it if you could. The love between you two is unbreakable and everlasting long-love to last.

—✒️anon

kmh as the name of the painting 🥹 sooo cute 😔🫶 thank u for feeding us again anon 💓

#ri.replies #w/ ✒️ anon

2 notes · View notes

zhinings · 2 months

Text

“The alluring painting presents:”…

3! 2! 1! Action!

—

Your eyes opened again? How strange, because you did shut them before, but looking around you were inside a museum. In a particular section there was only one portrait painting of someone, feels like you’ve seen it before, and that face is familiar. Under the painting, there was a name tag on it named “Wanderer” That name is something you remembered from your dream, but it can’t be real right? It’s just a dream, you assured yourself. All of a sudden the ground you’re standing in vanishes and morphs into another place, which is your room. You woke up from your slumber state and you looked around again, oh that was just a dream, you checked the time

“20:00”

You then look up and locked gaze with his indigo-blue eyes, it was pretty to look at. You gulper nervously as words start to come out from your lips like this;

Afterwards, you wake up your blinds illuminating the light of the sun outside.

“Good Morning, assuming that you’re probably reading this right now. I just wanna say that I have a gift ready for you, oh well see you later! I’m excited to meet you in person :)”

—Unknown number:

:Hello

You responded by replying:

:Hi? Who’s this?

After a few moments, you get a response saying:

:I can see you, turn around.

——

“Hey”

as the word was said, he turned around to face you, in his hand was a box with a ribbon attached to it. His face lit up smiling after seeing you, he speaks

—(The rest of it is where they went to tour the park around <3)

(Your phone buzzed receiving a message from him saying:

—“Hey u busy?”

Wondering why you respond by saying:

// Nope not at the moment, why?

He responds a few minutes later:

—“Let’s meet by the park?”

You suddenly jumped on your bed cause of excitement and couldn’t condemn it inside, you then replied saying:

A few minutes went by and Scara came back with two sticks in his hand, he handed one to you and it looked like… Night-skies, he then looks at you and says: “Do you think night skies are pretty?” You answer:

— The next day, it was time for the art exhibition, the time for you to showcase your best work yet. But you were feeling nervous again, not until a message lit up your phone screen, a good luck message from him. By a sudden flash, it feels like your worries went away immediately! You stand up from your bed and start to get ready; a few minutes later, you pick up your equipment and start walking down the road towards the venue. The place was already crowded and it was hard getting in through but you managed to get in, just in time. You saw a familiar face, it’s Miss Iraya! You came up to her and spoke up “Hello” Her face lit up with a warm smile, and she hugged you gently. She speaks in a friendly tone “Ah there you are! I was wondering when you’ll come, but I'm glad you made it.” She smiles and then asks, “Is the painting ready?” While you answer her with “ Yes, it’s ready. Although I have to say, that this painting is notable and special to me. It’s inspired by someone who holds a special place in my heart.” As you brought out the painting, it was glorious even she looked at it in awe. She says “Aww, that’s sweet. I hope that the painting reaches the person it was meant for.” You smiled at her and said “I hope so too, but I think it already did :)” As you two went back and forth talking, the time passed by and it was time to put your painting up for the audience to see, she then took the painting and placed it neatly. It looked so beautiful, there were excited roars outside the venue, as they opened the doors the people started to wander around the museum. The majority of them went in your direction which shocked you yet it felt relieving, knowing that there are people who appreciate the one you made from the bottom of your heart. As more people came in, it started to get crowded, luckily the museum was too big to have extra spaces.

#genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #genshin wanderer #wanderer #scara x y/n #scara x reader #author #genshin impact #genshin fanfic

4 notes · View notes

gunslingerofgermany · 1 year

Text

A New Ka-Tet

By Mike Bird

Afraid wasn't a strong enough word for what he was feeling. He was terrified. Terrified and confused.

Just over 3 weeks ago, he had been part of a pack...a Ka-Tet.The largest, strongest one in the entire forest. True...he hadn't been one of the leaders of that pack...or really even liked by most of its members...but at least he had been a part of it.

'Was I, though?' he now thought, in his strange way of thinking. 'Was I really?'

What he had been, in that pack of beautiful but dangerous creatures, was bullied. Bullied and beaten, on not only a daily basis, but usually on an hourly basis.

The others would--seemingly out of no more than boredom--attack him. Biting. clawing. Snarling. Sometimes they did it as a group. Sometimes individually. Regardless of the numbers, though, if he didn't submit to his attackers immediately, the pack leaders would step in, and that's when the real beatings began. That's when the blood and hair would fly. Those were the times that he would always wonder if this was his end.

So, even though he could have fought back against most of his bullies, he didn't. He would roll onto his back and stretch out his unusually long neck. His odd, curly tail bunched up beneath him. His intelligent eyes squeezed shut. By exposing his vital areas in this way, his soft throat and his even softer belly, he was telling them, "you win! I give up!"

He would do this even though it filled him with shame to do so. Shame and embarrassment. He didn't do it out of fear. The beautiful, striped creature wasn't afraid to die. What he was afraid of, was dying for the wrong reason.

He knew that he had a higher calling. There was an amazing reason for him being on this earth. He wasn't sure how he knew this, he just did. Likewise, he didn't know what that reason for his existence was, but he knew it was just as important as the beam overhead. The powerful, invisible beam that moved the clouds and shaped the trees. Or, nearly as important at least.

He was a Billy-Bumbler...one of the most common animals in the forest. His kind had multiplied tremendously since the world had moved on. They ruled the forest by sheer force of numbers. There were bigger animals. There were stronger animals. But the Billy-Bumbler's ability to think strategically and to work together as a pack set them apart from the other creatures in the woods.

On that day--a little over 3 weeks ago--that our Bumbler's life changed forever, he was looking for a place to hide. The leaders were bored. It never failed that when they got bored, the thing they liked best to break that boredom was to attack him.

He was still nursing a nasty wound on his left flank from the last time it had happened . It was seeping blood even as he snuck through the undergrowth in search of a hiding place. He didn't really expect to find that place. He had tried before, many times, and had never been successful.

He could hear the yapping of the pack behind him as he slunk through the woods. He had been in this area many times, and knew there was no place for him to go. Yet he had felt drawn to this exact place. That feeling of being drawn was getting stronger.

As he crept around a tree he had seen hundreds of times before--the hungry sound of the pack getting closer--he saw something impossible. There was a hollow spot in a tree that had never been there before. Quickly, he ran toward it.

He stopped just outside the hollow. Oddly, he couldn't see anything at all inside of the hollow. Sunlight was shining on the spot. He should have been able to see the insides of the tree. But he couldn't. It was as if the hollow was really just a black circle painted in the tree. It had no smell.

He was trying to make up his mind what it was he was seeing and what he should do, when the pack made up his mind for him. They burst out of the undergrowth and ran for him. Without thinking, he ran into the dark place.

As soon as entered the tree, he felt a sinking feeling in his belly and a dizziness in his head. He stopped and vomited into the darkness. He suddenly realized that he could no longer hear the pack behind him. He turned around and looked out of the hole.

The forest was there, the same as it had been, (was it the same though? Didn't the trees seem even taller? Older?) but his pack was gone. He stepped out of the tree--there was no sick feeling when he came out--and into the empty woods. He immediately knew that not only was his pack no longer there...there were no animals at all left in the woods.

He was alone.

That's when the terror began to set in. He started walking. He knew he had to get out of this forest. It was a week later when he reached the edge of the trees and saw a long, impossible ribbon of road stretching off into the horizon.

That's also when he saw the boy for the first time. The boy and his three companions. One of those companions was a man with a very large gun strapped to his left hip. That man scared him.

The Billy-Bumbler's eyes were drawn back to the boy and an ancient instinct awoke inside of him.

"Oy!" he quietly huffed under his breath. Silently, The Billy-Bumbler followed the group. He had a feeling that this might this be a new Ka-Tet. He felt himself rushing toward his destiny. The end Text by Mike Bird, Graphic by Paul Michael Kane Shared with permission of the artists. Thought Dark Tower Fans might enjoy this, but especially @flanaganfilm

#the dark tower #oy #billybumbler

17 notes · View notes

innocencefactoryblog · 1 year

Text

A DAMP LIKE HEADACHE

A body horror love story about bad housing, bad mould and a whole head of concrete. TW GRAPHIC CONTENT

A DAMP LIKE HEADACHE

The shadow of the motorway dust casts a grey cloud over every living thing. Even when the sun shines or the rain pours, there is no weather, there are no seasons. The days are dictated by the rumbling of trucks and the murmurings of the cars. Every breeze becomes thick with smog, every sound becomes overshadowed by the motorway as it shrieks, a cry dull and full of hate. The end to this place is only the beginning, this is the area in between where you have been and where you are going.

On the edge of the rumbling, flanked by bags of rubbish and crisp packets tossed from cars, sits a large house. It is the sort of house, with its yellowing net curtains and dust over the front doorstep, that nobody would imagine having a real interior. That is to say, no one would imagine the people living in there to be anything more than dirty and uncaring, that the people living in the house could be expected to be as true to any sort of life as a cardboard cutout. This is what that house is: a cardboard cutout of a life, almost real but mostly fake; one just able to be touched, but not with both hands.

Through the corridors, where the lights work but you wish that they didn’t, there is a door and through the door there is a girl trying to be a woman. She is sitting on her bed, which is more so a mattress on the floor, with the curtains shut. She is sitting at her desk, with the lights off and the windows shut. She is sitting on the floor, with the door closed and everything dim, smoking a cigarette she did not remember lighting and gazing at something on the wall she cannot quite remember.

There are other people inside this house, she knows that. They clatter about, back and forth through the corridor, up and down the stairs. Their discussion often go as follows: ““Yeah, for doing sounds great the washing up” “Thanks, there move amazing the bags” “No room, do you want some cheers?”. It goes on. She tries to grip onto their words, but they fall through her and fester, swirling inside of her brain. Slippery, their sentences twist in great knots that extend from the back of her head and into her spine, rubbing against her vertebrae and curling back around the insides of her intestine. What they are saying she does not know, and even if she wanted to she could not find out. These people, whom she lives with but has never met or known, are completely inaccessible to her.

Instead of spending the rest of her day, as she so often does, with her ear pressed to the side of the door trying to search for her name inside a sea of unrelenting words, she takes to her bed. Once, the mattress on the floor had sheets, but at some point she lost or soiled every pair so now it sits, bare and hopeful. For a moment, she considers going outside. She heard it was a sunny day, her weather app informed her this morning. However, the thought of getting up, showering, preparing and drinking a glass of water, brushing her hair, finding clean clothes, putting on clean clothes, finding clean socks, putting on clean socks, finding her keys and putting on shoes all to just be greeted with the motorway? Why would she do that when she can feel a hard, solid, throbbing building between her legs? When she can roll over and bury her face deep into her mattress, smelling the salt and the sweat from the day before, letting the scent overpower her. Grinding her crotch into the dent carved out in the mattress, she knows what is coming.

There is herself and her stomach, except her stomach is not her stomach, it is wider and larger and rounder and it is pinning her down onto the bed. Her belly is sticking out way beyond her engorged breasts, which rest upon her pillow-like frame. Pressing her bowling ball clitoris against her fat, she wiggles onto her front in order to wrap her legs around herself, using the pressure of her body to push against her fat. She will not move, no, she cannot move, and she has no memory of how she got herself into this state. Was it through eating? Through days that did not end, turning into years, of staying inside, on the sofa and ordering food to the house? The lack of movement making her bones and her brain grow soft, grow weak, grow plump, as they become wrapped in a comfortable layer of blubber? However she had reached this state, a state where her body and her stomach were simultaneously one and separate, constantly growing, it does not matter. She knows that as well as you do.

There is no inside, there is no outside. It is only in these moments of solitary dampness that she can find herself, sweat and salt and reducing herself only to the pleasure she is experiencing. Her insides pulstate with pleasure as she twitches, eyes closed and thighs clenched. As the images cascade over her, she becomes washed with her own pleasure and anguish all in one.

Every time she cums, it is always blood. Blood and concrete, bursting from her in one painful motion. Throughout the build up, she can close her eyes and she can be someone else. She can be totally immobilised, she can be safe inside of her own body, she can protect herself because her body is already protecting her. Sometimes, she will stay inside these moments of pleasure, letting herself forget what is lurking below and just around the corner. A body like a ticking clock.

The concrete flows out of her quickly. It begins burning hot, quickly cooling as it spurts and makes contact with the mattress. Sweating and vulnerable, her brain filled with static as she becomes dizzy, all the pleasure she was just experiencing exiting her body in a few swift moments, she lays still, panting. The concrete has solidified around the soft pubic hair growing from the corners of the lips of her vagina, so she gently uses her fingertips to pull it from the strands, flicking it onto the floor. She half thinks about checking her phone, but gives it a second thought as she twirls the crusty hair against her thumb and forefinger. There is a little blood to clean up, but it is no matter. This is the same as it always has been.

It hurts, but she cannot stop.

She has been mould spotting since her first day in the house. Since she was shown the room by someone who is her housemate or was her housemate. Maybe. “Room, is the your too here bed the liking?” they asked her, pointing to the mattress on the floor and the swaying unshaded light bulb dangling from the ceiling. Despite the patchy carpet and leftover piles of clothing from the previous occupier, she was drawn almost instantly to a small spot of mould in the left hand corner of the ceiling. There it was, black and skinny and looking right at her. She wanted to question it, because she did not remember it from the Zoom viewing of her now room but, come to think of it, there was much she did not remember seeing in the grainy video chat. Like the motorway. Like the doors that don’t close properly. Like the hoover with a full bag. Like the flakes of paint chipping off. Like the piles of untouched washing up that no one either wants to claim as their own or scrub themselves. Like the maggots crawling along the floor. Like this mould.

At first she was concerned, especially when the mould started to expand. Sometimes, while enraptured in her early attempts at eyes wide open masturbation, she swears that the mould would whisper to her. In those virgin days, when the roaring motorway had not entered her consciousness completely, she could imagine that the mould would disappear on its own. Yet, it didn’t. She would lie on her bed and count the new spores. Everything else started to fade away, her friends started to drop out of her life, her mum called but she didn’t answer, she tried to talk to her new housemates but she was met with the same indecipherable conversation. The mould, however, stayed and expanded. As her desire to go anywhere beyond the motorway started to fade, mould spotting became her routine.

It became as though nothing else had ever existed, and as though everything else had ceased to exist. With each new spore that sprouted bought with it the knowledge that the sun was still rising behind the closed curtains.

With the mould came the concrete. Truthfully, she had never been horny before she entered this house. All the boys who came before, pushing her onto her back and telling her that there is always time to fuck her, did not inspire her to inspect herself. Neither did the women, who would shout at her for more and ask her why she so feared their genitalia. How could she express, as she kissed the tip of one blonde’s girldick, that she feared the woman would spout concrete as she came? That she wasn’t dripping wet because she wasn’t turned on, dear seventeen year old boyfriend so eager to please and yet who never once trimmed his fingernails, but because she did not know how to be. Her body rejects any wetness, it wants her only if she is bathed in dust.

Today, a new patch of mould has started to sprout. She didn’t notice it at first, too preoccupied with checking that the concrete had not stuck permanently to her skin, but as her eyes began to lazily drift across the ceiling it swam into focus, then immediately out of focus. With each new piece of mould comes a new pounding behind the eyes, a dull aching thud inside of her head. Breathing, heavily out through her nose and gritting her teeth, the headache moves through her body like a chill. If the ceiling were to collapse onto her today, she wonders how financially responsible her landlord would be and if her indecipherable housemates would receive any kind of compensation.

The relief from the headache is only temporary, as a truck passing by the house slams on its horn. She should buy some painkillers, but that would involve leaving. She thinks that the new mould is shaped like the letter ‘H’. She tries to spell an entire word, in amongst the grime and dirt, but is left drawing a blank.

Her body gnawing for some kind of sustenance, she supposes that it is time to eat. What to cook? She senses that one or more of her housemates are in the kitchen. “There pot I am cooking why for me soup”. “You to use here wash up”. They say, so she guesses they must be cooking and the hunger dissipates. Who can eat when one has to make small talk in order to use a knife? “Can I put fork my?”. No, it cannot be this way. The mould is pulsing and the ceiling is a different shade of white.

She supposes that it is time to masturbate again.

Laying back, adjusting the pillows so that she can prop herself upright in order to give herself access to a slightly different angle, she begins to run her hands across her clitoris which is swelling and erect through her fraying panties. Using her forefinger, she starts to gently rub herself up and down. Legs spread at the thought of a pale fleshy stomach occupying her wake, not quite wet but close enough.

Just as she is preparing to throw herself to the sheets and begin to thrust herself against her duvet, there is a knock at the door. Immediately, she sits bolt upright in bed and looks at the door. She has been here forever and for no time at all, but there has never been a knock. No one has come seeking her. It has been so long, she was beginning to forget that she existed at all.

Quickly deciding that she must have imagined the sound, she settles back down into her duvet mound and starts to move her fingers down her slender stomach, but is almost immediately interrupted by a louder, harder, knock at the door. Then another, then another, until the knocking becomes a constant, dull, wrapping. It does not cease. She realises that she cannot wait for this to pass.

With a compulsive sigh and a nervous knot growing tighter around her intestine, she pulls her grey jogging bottoms back over her legs and shuffles over to the door. Briefly, she presses her ear over the wood and listens, but there is no voice on the other side. Just the knocking.

Upon opening the door, she is surprised to see not the beady eyes of someone coming to tell her that her washing up has been left on the side for too long, or telling her that her room is too mouldy so she must move out with immediate effect, but a plainly dressed man. His shirt is neatly buttoned, his shoes clean and his nails trim. Even at a slight distance, she can smell the aftershave on his skin, fresh and peppery.

Instantly, her eyes are drawn to his stomach, which entered her field of vision long before the rest of him did. Although the man could be described as round, and despite the fact his stomach was by far the most pronounced part of his body, the rest of him remains as thin as the stretch of pavement on the edge of the motorway that the house borders. His face is slender, framed by shoulder length greasy brown hair, his lips curled in a slight overbite. Supporting his frame are two skinny legs which did not buckle under the weight of his stomach. An orb of a stomach which is only protected from hanging down to his knees, apron-like, by a fat pad obviously bursting out of the crotch of his jeans. He strokes his wispy moustache as he looks her up and down.

“Hello.” He says.

“Hello.” She says back.

Suddenly, she became aware that he knew she was watching him. There is a difference between looking at someone and watching them. You look at your annoying co-worker complaining about nothing, you look at the bus driver as he refuses your old ticket, you look at the television playing reruns of an old game show. You watch a man like this, his ball stomach bouncing ever so slightly up and down as his fat attempts to compete with gravity. You watch him as he adjusts himself, wiggling his belt so that his stomach stands even further upright. You watch him as he watches you back.

“Sorry about all the noise, I was just wondering if anyone else was in?” The man pauses to take his right hand, holding it below his belly for support. She wants, more than she has ever wanted anything, to take her hand underneath his stomach too. “I just moved into the house, and I can’t seem to find a frying pan. Do we have one?”

She finds herself unable to do anything aside from stammering, so focused on his stomach that she does not notice his eyes dragging across the mould on the ceiling, licking his lips as he does.

“I’m not sure.” She, eventually, manages to say, eyes still on his stomach. He sighs, deeply.

“The kitchen is a little, shall we say, hard to navigate. Can you help me? Just for five minutes, then I’ll leave you alone?”

With her hunger still gnawing, she nods obligingly. She is not sure if it was her choice to make.

The corridors in the house were not thin, and yet he struggles to maintain walking straight. Confidently, he waddles forward, stomach brushing against the walls as he does. With her trailing behind him, she cannot not help but imagine him lying on his front with his entire body held up by his stomach. How she would crawl underneath him, letting him tip forward on his belly and pin her down as she fondled his throbbing pad of fat, finding his tiny, but very hard, buried cock. The pressure of his fat, pooling around her body, would push her down into the mattress and leave only the shape of her flesh, an outline of the person she once was.

Moving through to the kitchen, she notices that his back is still very slender, aside from two aggressive love handles framing the sides of his body and pushing his trousers towards the ground. As he bustles about the stove, he has to place his stomach onto the kitchen countertop in order to reach. It is not just his size which makes the kitchen a difficult space for him, but the build-up of an indeterminable amount of people's grime. The pots with week old soup clinging to the bottom, because someone decided it would be a good idea to start batch cooking for all of five minutes. Vegetables growing new vegetables. The maggots who have taken up residence on the floor seem more at home here than she does.

Still, he doesn’t seem to mind, she thinks, as he absent mindedly says

“I wanted to cook, but I’m not sure what, is there anything you fancy?”

“Huh?” She is so taken aback by him asking this that she can’t quite respond: yes, thank you. I want like potatoes and meat and salmon sushi and lasagna and carbonara and deep fried aubergine and pad thai and steaming noodles and three kinds of curry on one plate and rice and oil and grease and balls of lard and everything down her throat right now right this second until she has to roll herself back to the mould. He asks her again. When all you have done is speak to the walls, it is understandable to not know what to do if they speak back.

“Maybe I’ll make fish? Do you eat fish? Do you want it fried or stewed, or both? There’s nothing wrong with having two dinners.” He seems to trail off at the end, talking to himself rather than her, but this is no matter. All of these questions, decipherable but impenetrable, swirl through her. How does she like her fish cooked? Can she still taste this food? It has been such a long time, and her stomach is so empty it feels as though tiny sharp fingernails are scratching against its lining.

The roaring of a car outside jolts her, and she blurts out

“I need to go to my room.”

Quickly for someone of his size, the man turns around, and she has to fight every urge to push her entire self onto his stomach, which was swaying as though it could not quite catch-up with the motion he had just performed.

“Ok, do you want some food anyway? I’ll be making more than enough.”

She nods her head instinctively, managing to mutter a quiet “thank you” followed by a slightly louder “sorry” as she retreats. Almost immediately, she flops herself down onto her mattress and thinks of the man. She thinks of how simple life could be if she was able to mount his stomach and wrap her legs around his love handles, pushing her hands, palms open, against his fat. All of his fat, his juicy pale fat of which he is more of than human. Shaking his fat. Kneading his fat. Jerking his fat. Fucking his fat.

Her climax is reached at record speed. Concrete spurts everywhere, cracking slightly as it does.

True to his word, he left her a big, bubbling pot of fried fish stew with green beans and a pile of crusty bread outside of her room. She ate it quickly, unable to leave herself time to properly savour the delicate salty flavour of the broth with the buttery fish, nor the tender warmth of the bread. After she finishes the meal, she runs her fingers along her taut stomach, puffed up inches ahead of where it usually sits. The heaviness of the digestion pins her down, and she finds that it is a struggle to move. All she can do is adjust herself against her new weight and wait for the pressing to subside.

Inside her, the concrete is starting to form, heavy and brooding. The man has gone upstairs, where he is eating a portion nearly four times the size of hers.

The following weeks in the house pass with a kind of heavy strangeness that can only happen in moments almost peaceful. Herself and the man developed a nearly wordless friendship, of sorts. He began to cook for her. Bringing her treats and snacks. Each day a new dish was presented neatly outside of her room, all of which had two things in common. The first was that they were delicious. Steaming bowls of ramen and pho, roast dinners with all the trimmings, ham egg and chips, smashed burgers with brioche buns, something different every day. It was like he knew exactly what she was craving even when she did not.

The second was that the meals were huge. She thought that the fish curry had been large, but that dish looks like a light snack compared with what was to come. The roasts came with towering mountains of potatoes and beef, little sausages and crunchy carrots, creamy leeks and tender broccoli, two giant yorkshire puddings and great balls of salty stuffing all smothered with thick gravy. Ramen with thick noodles and a swimming pool like bowl of creamy broth. Endless bowls of pasta smothered in cheese sauce with several sides of garlic bread. Stacks of fluffy pancakes dripping with fruit coulis. Despite the size of the dishes, which arrive outside of her door three times a day, she finds that she is able to gulp down every last crumb.

The outside world had been a distant memory for a while now, but since the man moved in she finds that she has all but forgotten about it. Does the motorway still hum and scream her to sleep every night? Does her mother still call her on the phone, no answer? Does it matter that she can never tell one day apart from the other? If she never thinks of it, does it really exist?

She is always bloated, she is always full. Sometimes painfully, usually comfortably. She knows that her body is beginning to change, there is a new heaviness to her being. When she masturbated the other day, she noticed that she had to adjust herself slightly in order to reach her clitoris, which she is sure has been steadily growing too. Yet, each time she strokes her hands across herself and her body, she craves only the man's stomach.

With the changes comes the concrete and with the concrete comes the mould. It has never been easier for her to get off! When she eats she faces away from the mould, looking tentatively at a stained wall or at the worn carpet, but afterwards she has no choice but to lie down. Pinned by the weight of the previous meal, all that covers her field of vision is the mould. She cannot breathe in too deeply, or else the moulds damp scent will enter her lungs, permeating her nostrils and swirling about her body. Breathe too deeply and one’s head will swim and ache and make rectifying one's thoughts of stomachs and one's desire for concrete a very difficult task indeed.

Luckily, for her, the sheer size of the meals the man has been preparing for her make deep breaths impossible. After she eats, in between her gurgling digestion and low breathing she manages to rub the concrete out of her. This process has only become more painful, her labia left red raw from the countless hours spent with thick concrete stuck to it, but her struggle is lessened by the pleasures she did not realise were possible.

That is how it has been for as long as she can remember.

As usual, she finishes her breakfast in good time (today it is crispy bacon, fried potatoes, the creamiest scrambled eggs she has ever tasted and buttered mushrooms, with a side of deep fried sourdough bread that she decides must have been homemade) and lays back, preparing to muster up the strength to take off her underwear. Just as she begins to wrap her fingers around the waistband, there is a knock at the door.

Oh fuck.

It could be anyone, she realsies as it dawns on her that cannot remember the last conversation she had beyond showing the man around the kitchen. The knocking does not cease, and she thinks back to overhearing a conversation between her housemates “stomach, food missing she puts on?”. Oh fuck.

Getting up is a task unknown to her. She knew that she had begun to carry some extra weight in the days? weeks? months? since the man started to feed her, but she had never had to move with the full brunt of it stretching her. In the time since the man moved in her room, which was never clean but by no means a pigsty, has become unnavigable. Because she is never in any kind of rush, this hasn’t mattered to her in some while, but her new slightly sagging stomach means she has to carefully

“Hello” The man says, standing firm and upright in the corridor, but she says nothing. She cannot help but realise that someone has left the front door a little ajar, and a cold steel tainted jet of wind is blowing into her face. Still, she is thankful to be greeted by him and his stomach, even more swollen than before. “Can I come in?”

Still, she says nothing, but it doesn’t matter. The man, far more used to his size and stature than her, moves past her and into the room with ease. He turns, slowly taking in every detail, every plate strewn across the floor, every item left to rot. Every stretch of ceiling, covered in black spores.

“Mould problem?” He asks.

“Yes” She replies quickly, sitting herself back down the bed, painfully aware of how far her gut is sticking out before her. Pleasantly aware that his fat pad has only grown since she last saw him, and that his belly is now beginning to lose its war with gravity and sag towards his knees.

“Have you talked to the landlord about it?” Elegantly, he waddles over to her and, without asking, sits down next to her on the mattress. He huffs as he bends down, the floor is a long way for his girth to travel, and has to cross his legs so that his stomach can rest on the bed in order to be comfortable.

“No” she says, wondering if he has just eaten or not and, consequently, if his stomach is currently hard, and filled to the brim with food, or pillowy soft.

He mutters something under his breath, before turning his head to face her.

“How are you liking the food?”

“What?”

“The food, the dishes I’ve been making for you. You were so thin when I found you, I thought you looked like you needed them.”

“They’re the best food I’ve eaten in my entire life” She says, truthfully.

“That’s good.” He says, but his voice drifts off as he turns his attention back to the mould on the ceiling. “You really should do something about that mould, though. Can you help me for a second?”

She nods her head, and he instructs her to give him a ‘little push’ in order to help him up from the bed, which does obligingly, watching his stomach the entire time.

“You look great, by the way.” He tells her, eyes narrow and looking at the ceiling. She feels herself blush, instinctively rubbing her stomach and sensing her hunger return. “Is there a chair I can stand on?”

She points to a chair, which is currently being used as an empty plate stand, and he wobbles over to it. Carefully, but very slowly, he puts the plates onto the floor and clears a little spot for the chair. She studies his every move, the enormity of his weight becoming apparent as he hauls himself upwards, pulling himself onto the stand. It trembles, but does not collapse.

He traces his fingers along the mould.

“How long has it been here?” He asks. She says nothing.

“Do you like it?” He asks. She says nothing.

“Do you want it gone?” He asks. She says nothing.

No matter, he is not going to wait for a response. With one swift motion, he leans up towards the ceiling and starts to suck, wrapping his greasy lips to the ceiling, around the mould. She screams, trying to retreat to the back of the mattress but failing as her weight pins her down, leaving her only able to flail her legs about. His eyes are wide and frenzied, as he sucks so loudly it drowns out the motorway.

She starts to scream “stop it!”, but this only seems to spur him on. With a careful balancing of his weight, he manages to tip himself forward and extend his entire body so that he can suck with such force that the mould is pulled from the ceiling and down his throat. It seems that he can pry the mould off the ceiling with considerable ease and swallow every piece without chewing at all. The sound he makes when he sucks is close to a gargle, but not quite. The mould seems to be doing something to his stomach, which has begun rapidly inflating at a rate she has never seen before. It is as though he has a pump attached to him somewhere that she cannot see. His stomach is swelling to a stature that no normal human would be able to support.

Yet, gone is any fixation, gone is her own desires for her own stomach. All of those concrete soaked nights spent imagining herself riding his belly button have faded into obscurity. Her vagina is burning, this cannot be. He sucks harder, this cannot be. He is licking his lips as the mould is sucked down his throat and this cannot be this cannot be. Something dark is building up deep inside of her, and she flails about trying to make it stop, but it is no use. She rolls onto her front, cradling her stomach as she does and lightly sobbing, but it is no use. Even if she closes her eyes, she can still hear him sucking. It is no use.

Concrete spurts out of her in one painful motion, as though she is birthing a very thick dagger. She screams as she does so, feeling it drip down through her panties and onto the mattress. He does not take his eyes nor his mouth off of the ceiling, and it happens again. Then a third time. By the time he is finished sucking, she has lost count of how many times the concrete has left her body. She is still and panting and red raw on the mattress.

The man leaves without saying a word as quickly as he came in. She starts to properly cry now, tears of she is not quite sure what. Through the haziness of the salt, she can see that the mould is entirely gone. Too, her constant pounding headache has alleviated itself. All she is left with is a bright white ceiling, as clean as the day that the house was built.

Moving her hand down to the crotch, she realises that the concrete has dried around her. It has cemented her panties to the lips of her vagina and to her never trimmed pubic hair. Worse still, the concrete which seeped through the mattress has also dried. As hard as she tries, she cannot move, she has been perfectly cemented in place. There is no beginning, there is no end. She struggles a little more, before laying back as best she can. Her body has become completely and totally welded to the spot, but her clitoris is not engorged, she feels no pleasure.

Debating her words, she finds herself unable to cry out for help. Looking towards her door, she tries to figure out a way to open it.

#horror story #short story #body horror #writing #short stories #horror short story #INNOCENCE FACTORY

2 notes · View notes

clottedcreamtea · 2 years

Text

chapter 4 :)

i swear this is not tumblr exclusive. its just really easy to post on here. you can also read it on ao3 but more people will see it here than there I'm p sure

"Royal Milk Tea Cookie!” Oyster Cookie cried up to her son, who was slowly making his way down from the shattered roof, landing on the ground with a soft thud. “Oh, darling boy, what did that dragon do to you?”

“Did it try to eat you? I heard dragons eat Cookies!” Mulled Juice Cookie asked, intrigued.

Royal Milk Tea Cookie shook his head, unclasping his cloak to readjust it before snapping it back on. “No, it didn’t try to eat me,” He said, simply. “It made a deal with me, actually.”

“A deal?” Oyster Cookie gaped. “What deal would a dragon make with a young Cookie?”

Royal Milk Tea Cookie took a deep breath, readying himself for the conversation he would have to bear. “The dragon told me that the legend that it was talking about, the legend of the knight’s son, was about me… and that it was true.”

The elders gasped at the news. “The lower city myths about a poor child dropped at the doorstep of a high-ranking home,” Vanilla Sugar Cookie started, amazed. “It’s true?”

Oyster Cookie had all eyes on her as her colleagues came to realize that the mysterious arrival of an heir to the throne truly was a surprise– her son wasn’t hers at all!

Royal Milk Tea Cookie continued, ignoring the growing divide. “The dragon is in search of my mother– my real mother,” He spared a glance at Oyster Cookie, who looked ashamed, “who broke her promise with the dragon. If I can find my mother before the dragon rips through all of the Cookie kingdoms, it will spare everyone else and only take the soul stones of Oat Milk Cookie.”

No one was quite sure what to say. Royal Milk Tea Cookie had only just earned his place within the Convocation, and now he had to decide whether to sacrifice his true mother or allow other Cookies to get hurt, including himself. Cookies had started to crowd the Convocation as they discussed the events unfolding around them, and elder Baumkuchen Cookie wanted to stop the gossip potential quickly.

“Why don’t we gather someplace more… concealed from the prying eyes of the Republic’s citizens, hm?” The masked elder suggested, concerned about the privacy of their conversation.

“Oh, yes, of course! Let us return to Oyster Manor and discuss our plans further.” Oyster Cookie gestured for the Pearl Legion guards to escort the many elders back down the street toward her and Royal Milk Tea Cookie’s home, while simultaneously dispersing all of the gathered onlookers.

The walk felt longer than it initially had this morning, and Royal Milk Tea Cookie felt as though he might explode from the stress he was under. First his childhood friends are engaged to each other, then a dragon wrecks his first day as a representative of the Republic, and now he isn’t even a child of Oyster Cookie’s! It was as though the whole of Earthbread suddenly had turned its back on the young Cookie. Approaching the pearl gates felt both comforting and sickening as all of the elders made their way inside, taking their seats around Oyster Cookie’s dining table to discuss the matter at hand.

Sablé Cookie spoke first, unsurprisingly. She had voiced plenty of concern about Royal Milk Tea Cookie years before, and now her doubts had been confirmed. “So, the elephant in the room,” the young elder began, twirling her hair in her fingers. “Royal Milk Tea Cookie is not your true child, Oyster Cookie?”

The grey elder stiffened, looking over at Royal Milk Tea Cookie, with guilt in her eyes as she began to confess. “It’s been twenty-one years of lying to you all, and I suppose I should come clean.”

It was a cool evening when Tea Knight Cookie arrived at the Crème Republic. The ocean had been kind and the dark cloak that the knight wore seemed to cause no suspicion as he made his way out of the dock and toward what appeared to be the center of the main city. A cobbled path led up toward a large town hall, and several different paths split off toward intricately constructed homes, each carrying a different crest on the gate blocking the entrance to the homes.

“Which one do you think would treat you the best, Milk Tea Cookie?” Tea Knight whispered to his son, smiling sadly as he prepared himself to say farewell to his only child at the end of the night.

The swaddled baby giggled happily, looking all around his new surroundings. The colors were so pretty! There was gold and blue… but a baby couldn’t decide his own future. Tea Knight looked back up at the house crests and continued to think.

“Might I be able to help you?” A terse voice came from behind Tea Knight Cookie, and he quickly turned to meet his opponent.

“Oh, no, I’m just thinking.” It was a beautiful Cookie, with silver hair and a pearlescent dress, glittering in the evening light, just as the ocean waves had. She would never compare to Oat Milk Cookie, but Tea Knight Cookie couldn’t simply ignore her beauty. “Do you happen to know who lives here?”

The silver Cookie chuckled lightly. “Someone quite proud of her heritage, ready to improve the Republic for the better.”

Tea Knight Cookie looked back down at his son, who had fallen asleep against his soft blankets he was wrapped tightly in. He pulled the hood of his cloak off of his head, revealing himself to the silver Cookie. “Might I ask you a favor, Cookie of the Republic?”

The silver Cookie seemed confused at the change in demeanor, but nodded, signaling for Tea Knight Cookie to ask his favor.

“I am a knight who fights battles for those who cannot. I have come from the Dark Cacao Kingdom in search of a home for my son, as neither myself nor my darling Oat Milk Cookie have the ability. My son– Milk Tea Cookie– his mother asked me to bring him here, to be raised by Cookies who could promise him a better life.

“Speaking with you, you seem to believe that this Cookie in this pearl and silver-lined home is good. Do you believe that this Cookie would accept my son and raise him as her own?” Tea Knight Cookie finished, brows furrowed and voice filled with concern for his son’s future.

The silver Cookie put a hand to her mouth, amazed at the distance this knight had traveled, just to find a new home for his baby boy. It was an honorable deed, and she could not let this young Cookie remain homeless. Holding out her arms, the silver Cookie spoke again, “Yes, of course, she would. The Cookie that lives here is an excellent woman, and would never let a poor father abandon his child somewhere that wouldn’t guarantee his safety. Here, pass him to me.”

Tea Knight Cookie slowly handed Milk Tea Cookie over to this new individual, eyes sad as he mentally bid goodbye. “You are the Cookie that lives here, aren’t you?” The silver Cookie silently nodded her head, face filled with adoration for the baby in her arms. “Thank you.”

The silver Cookie raised her head to assure the father that his son would be taken care of for many years to come, but as she looked up, the knight had disappeared into the night, as though he had never been there to start.

“Milk Tea Cookie,” The Cookie whispered to her new child, smiling fondly. “Such a boring name. You are in the presence of Oyster Cookie, an elder of the Republic! We might as well be royalty!” The baby giggled happily at the new word. “Oh, did you like that? Royalty? Well, how about we add it onto your name then. Royal Milk Tea Cookie, oh that sounds much better.”

As the Cookie and her new child made their way up the cobbled path to her home, it felt as though everything was where it was supposed to be, and the elder couldn’t be happier.

“I didn’t know that there was a curse on the child, or a wish made, or whatever this predicament is,” Oyster Cookie swore, hand across her chest. “I just knew that if I didn’t take in the child, I’d forever feel guilty.”

Royal Milk Tea Cookie felt tears in his eyes. His mother and father, out of fear they wouldn’t be able to give him a good life, sent him to somewhere more promising, never once not considering his safety. He was sure Oat Milk Cookie was a good person, and he hoped that once his journey began, her death would not be in vain.

Custard Cookie scoffed. “All this time, and you never bothered to mention it at all?” The bearded elder rolled his eyes angrily. “Should we not strip him of his title now that it is understood he is not a true Cookie of the Republic?”

“Absolutely not!” Vanilla Sugar Cookie objected. “Just because the young heir is not a direct relative of elder Oyster Cookie does not mean his spot was not rightly deserved!”

“Thank you, elder Vanilla Sugar Cookie,” Royal Milk Tea Cookie thanked, wiping his eyes with a blue gloved hand. “I did train for most of my life in order to understand the hierarchy, the political affiliation of each house, and the terminology for every question that would be answered in town hall meetings. Regardless of my home, I am a Cookie of the Republic in my heart.”

“Oh, please,” Custard Cookie dismissed with a wave. “You simply want to keep the power we’ve bestowed upon you.”

“Did you not propose a marriage between houses in order to uphold your power, elder Custard Cookie?”

The elder scoffed and stuttered, unsure what to do after the snappy response from the once-timid young Cookie.

“We should stop the argument over whether or not I deserve my position, but how to track down Oat Milk Cookie from the Dark Cacao Kingdom,” Royal Milk Tea had stood up and began pacing the dining room, blue boots tapping on the marble floors. “We should begin crafting a team of Cookies. I suggest those from the Council just this past year. Would the representatives of the Dark Cacao and Hollyberry kingdoms agree for another venture?”

“I don’t know if they’re available,” Captain Caviar Cookie responded. “Wildberry Cookie and Crunchy Chip Cookie have been quite loyal to their kingdoms recently, and I understand that most of the other brave warriors were happy to return home and search for Dark Enchantress Cookie safely from their own kingdoms.”

“Well, who else might be able to find her?”

“Clotted Cream Cookie and Financier Cookie, while I understand you aren’t the fondest of the pair at the moment, would be valuable assets to the team you wish to create, Royal Milk Tea Cookie.”

The blue-dressed Cookie sighed and took his seat at the table once more. He turned to look out of the glass doors separating the dining room from the path to the gardens outside, and he couldn’t help but picture himself and Clotted Cream Cookie as children once more, holding hands in the flowerbed and wishing to never grow up.

“Fine. Summon Clotted Cream Cookie and Financier Cookie. We will depart the moment a ship is prepared for the journey.”

“Oh, wonderful! I will prepare an airship–”

“No, I think a regular ship will suffice, mother,” Royal Milk Tea Cookie redirected his mother’s plans. “While I understand the airship is quicker, the Duskgloom and Licorice Seas would be excellent spots for a Cookie who wished to remain hidden would hide, and I understand that the ships you have been constructing are able to withstand the damage from both of the destructive oceans.”

“Excellent! I will prepare the crew at once!” Captain Caviar Cookie happily stood up quickly, knocking his chair over as he made his way out of the doors to the Oyster Manor, too quick for the servants or Oyster Cookie herself to stop him.

“I will inform the Consul of his upcoming journey. He will be ready once the ship is prepared.” Elder Custard Cookie stood up as well, much more quietly than his former colleague, also making his way out of the manor.

The remaining elders discussed among themselves, asking what supplies would be needed and what they were to do to promise the citizens of the Republic that the event of a dragon crashing through the Republic’s town hall’s ceiling was nothing to worry about.

“We’re the venerable elders of the Convocation!” Oyster Cookie dismissed. “The citizens want to believe that we keep them safe, and so we will tell them we are keeping them safe! Tell them that our newest member is beginning a journey to hunt down this dragon, and that all is well.”

#royal milk tea cookie #potr #crk fanfic

2 notes · View notes

technosl777 · 1 month

Text

5 Great Apps for Movie Streaming Similar to Movierulz

Netflix 7.3

Netflix is the go-to spot for streaming shows and movies. With a vast library, there’s something for everyone. You can watch hit series like "Stranger Things" or enjoy movies such as "The Irishman." Netflix adds new content regularly, so there's always something fresh. For family fun, "The Queen's Gambit" is a great choice. It mixes drama and chess, captivating viewers of all ages. Netflix also offers a range of documentaries, from true crime to nature. For example, "Making a Murderer" keeps you hooked with real-life drama. Kids will love "Carmen Sandiego," a fun and educational show. Netflix makes it easy to find something to watch, with personalized recommendations based on your viewing history. You can watch anywhere, whether you're at home or on the go. With options to download shows and movies, you can enjoy your favorites offline too. Netflix’s simple interface and variety make it a top choice for streaming entertainment. Try it out today and discover why so many people love Netflix.

Netflix stands out for its original content. Shows like "The Crown" and "Ozark" have won many awards. These series offer high-quality stories and amazing acting. If you love comedy, "The Kominsky Method" provides laughs and heartfelt moments. Netflix’s movie collection includes blockbusters and indie films. Films such as "Bird Box" and "Roma" offer unique experiences. Plus, Netflix updates its library regularly, so there’s always something new. You can create multiple profiles, so everyone in the family has their own space. With features like auto-play and skip intro, watching is seamless. Netflix also offers various subscription plans, so you can choose what fits your needs best. Whether you enjoy binge-watching or just watching a movie now and then, Netflix has you covered. Sign up today to explore a world of entertainment right at your fingertips.

JioTV 9.0

JioTV is a top choice for streaming live TV. It offers a wide range of channels. You can watch news, sports, and entertainment. With JioTV, you never miss your favorite shows. It features channels in multiple languages, catering to diverse tastes. You can catch up on missed episodes using the catch-up feature. For example, if you missed the latest cricket match, JioTV lets you watch it later. It’s easy to use, with a simple interface that makes navigation a breeze. You can also set reminders for upcoming shows. Whether you enjoy Bollywood movies or international news, JioTV has it all.

JioTV works on mobile phones and tablets. This flexibility means you can watch on the go. If you’re traveling, just open the app and stream your favorite shows. JioTV offers both live TV and on-demand content. The app provides a smooth viewing experience with minimal buffering. It’s perfect for those who want to stay entertained without a cable connection. Plus, JioTV’s user-friendly design ensures a hassle-free experience. Overall, JioTV is a great choice for anyone looking to enjoy a wide range of TV channels and shows from their device.

Movierulz 11.0

MovieRulz is a popular site for watching movies online. It offers a vast selection of films. You can find the latest releases and classic favorites. With a simple search, you can locate movies quickly. For instance, if you want to watch "Spider-Man: No Way Home," MovieRulz makes it easy. The site updates its collection regularly. This means you get access to new films soon after their release. MovieRulz is known for its user-friendly interface. You can navigate through genres and categories without hassle. Whether you enjoy action, romance, or comedy, MovieRulz has something for everyone. The website also offers various video quality options. This ensures a good viewing experience, whether you're on a slow connection or a fast one.

Using Movierulz 11.0 is straightforward and convenient. You don't need to create an account to start watching. Just search for the movie and click play. The site also provides subtitles for many films, which is great for non-English speakers. MovieRulz is especially popular for those looking to watch movies without paying for subscriptions. It's a go-to source for many who enjoy streaming free content. However, always ensure you use a good VPN for privacy and security while using such sites. MovieRulz offers a wide range of options for movie lovers, making it a handy tool for free entertainment.

Disney+ 4.6

Disney+ is a top streaming service for families. It offers a huge library of movies and shows. You can watch classic Disney films like "The Lion King" or "Aladdin." New releases such as "The Mandalorian" and "Loki" are also available. Disney+ has something for everyone, from kids to adults. The platform is easy to use and has a friendly interface. You can create different profiles for family members. This way, everyone gets their own recommendations. Disney+ also has a feature called GroupWatch. It lets you watch movies with friends, even if you're apart. For instance, you can enjoy a "Frozen" movie night with friends via GroupWatch.

Disney+ offers content from Disney, Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, and National Geographic. This means a variety of genres and themes. You can dive into magical Disney adventures or explore the galaxy with Star Wars. Marvel fans can catch up on superhero series and films. Disney+ also allows you to download content for offline viewing. This is perfect for long trips or flights. The service is available on most devices, including smart TVs and mobile phones. Disney+ offers a great mix of classic and new content. It’s a fantastic choice for family entertainment and a must-have for Disney lovers.

Loklok-Dramas & Movies 7.8

Loklok is a popular platform for streaming dramas and movies. It offers a wide range of content. You can find the latest TV dramas and classic films. For example, if you love Korean dramas, Loklok has titles like "Crash Landing on You" and "Goblin." It also features popular movies from various genres. Whether you enjoy action, romance, or comedy, Loklok has something for you. The platform is easy to navigate. You can quickly search for your favorite shows or movies. Loklok updates its content regularly, so there’s always something new to watch.

Using Loklok is simple and convenient. You can stream content on different devices, such as smartphones, tablets, and smart TVs. The site offers good video quality and minimal buffering. This ensures a smooth viewing experience. Loklok also has options for creating watchlists. This way, you can save and organize your favorite shows and movies. If you missed an episode of a drama, you can catch up with ease. Overall, Loklok is a great choice for anyone looking to enjoy a diverse selection of dramas and films.

#apk #movierulz #movie

1 note · View note

themosleyreview · 2 months

Text

The Mosley Review: Trap

What a year the horror and thriller film genre is having so far am I right? I don't think I have seen this many major horror or thriller releases this far into the year since maybe the early 2000's when the supernatural and found footage wave was at its highest. Its always good to see a good edge of your seat thriller sprinkled into the summer season to counter act the other blockbusters. The filmmaker behind this new thriller is no stranger to the genre and maybe not all of his films have been that great, but he has been on a up swing lately and this film was another example of it. We usually see the perspective of the detectives on the chase of the psycho killer and occasionally check in with the killer as we get closer to the end of the story. This film does away with that and you are firmly planted in the killer's perspective and it was thrilling and nerve-wracking to see him constantly trying to find a way to escape. I loved that the main trap that is set for him isn't the only one he has to worry about. Its a father and daughter experience like no other and the amount of stress was well balanced and kept me curiously engaged with every effort taken to get out.

Josh Hartnett has never stopped being amazing and I love the resurgence he's having. As Cooper "The Butcher" Adams, he was fantastic as he balanced the loveable and kind father figure exterior with the stressed caged animal within him. I really appreciated that the details to the characters' many ticks and personality traits was wisely shown and not explained out right. It was amazing to see him try to keep the act up while not only watching every move of the police and not tip them off or his wonderful daughter. Ariel Donoghue was outstanding as his daughter Riley and her genuine wonder and fangirling was pure and fun to watch. The chemistry between Ariel and Josh was immediate from the first 30 seconds they were on screen together. The emotional rollercoaster she goes through as the film progresses was excellent and sometimes its not on screen and yet you feel it. Jonathan Langdon was fun as the merchandise seller, Jaimie. I liked his bright outlook on life and there was a fear that he would become one of Cooper's victims because I liked him so much. Alison Pill is always amazing and as Cooper's wife, Rachel, you get a taste of the life they built together and you see why Cooper wants to keep his secret life separate. I always find it fascinating to meet the detective or analysts searching for the murderer and Hayley Mills did a fantastic job as the psychologist, Dr. Josephine Grant. You get to hear her decipher Cooper in many triggering ways and how she conducted the hunt was great. I do wish there was a moment between her and Cooper, but her dialogue did the work for the audience. Saleka Shyamalan makes her on screen debut as Lady Raven and she did an excellent job. Not only is she an excellent singer and performer, but she stood toe to toe with Josh Hartnett in a number of superbly acted scenes.

The score by Herdís Stefánsdóttir was good as the amount of tension is maintained in some of the more subtle moments. The rest of the film is scored by Lady Raven and kind of kept the tempo of the story moving. The lighting and color scheme is a hallmark of M. Night Shyamalan and it informs you of the mood switches and tension building. Like I said before, I loved that the many layers of Cooper were mainly explored visually instead of verbally. It made me wonder if the many things he said were true and added that extra layer of intrigue. The problems I had were mainly in the last quarter of the film as we seem to rush past alot of things and there is some real lapse of logic and judgement that lead to a predictable and avoidable outcome. In the end, this was a fun psychological thriller that wisely keeps you in the head of a killer as you feel the rope around him become taut and the tension unrelenting. Do stay for a fun mid credit scene that ties a funny bow on a character's arc. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

#trap #josh hartnett #ariel donoghue #alison pill #hayley mills #jonathan langdon #saleka shyamalan

1 note · View note

evelynndecipio-blog · 2 months

Text

June 13th, 2020.

Dear Nightingale,

It’s fine. I can relate to not getting out of the castle much, though not for the same reasons as you. It took me a while to gain the courage to come searching for your letter. I’m not so sure what I was afraid of, but I’m thinking of pushing myself to be less fearful of what the world has to offer.

I live in the south. Brighton to be exact. I love it dearly and I would never choose to give it up for life elsewhere. Even after my short trips in London, I can confidently say that Brighton is the best place in the world. I suppose its unfair, since I’ve only been to one other country, but I haven’t yet seen any evidence that would suggest otherwise. Still though, your beach sounds wonderful. From the way you described it, I can imagine the shore being a quiet place for contemplation. I love the bustling of Brighton, but a quiet beach is something I would love to visit or even live near. We don’t get many horses in Brighton either, so riding one near the water would be a new experience for me. Well, riding a horse, specifically, would be a new experience. Do you have a close bond with your horse? I’ve always wondered what it would be like to share a relationship with an animal. I think I should convince my parents to get me one to bring to Hogwarts. I think I should start saving my own money to buy one to bring here.

Your mother sounds so amazing. I wish I could be that close with my own mother. In fact, I got along with my father much more. We had similar interests, you see. My fondness for tabletop games, videogames and reading all came from him. We could talk about anything. He was like a best friend and a father all wrapped into one. I also owe my in-depth knowledge of Brighton to him as he loved taking me around the city to explore, much like you and your mother did. We would walk for what felt like hours in the comfort of each other. Now I don’t see much of him anymore. My mother introduced me to movies, my first love, but her job kept her more occupied than my father. These days, I don’t talk to her much either. I’m glad that you and your mother are so close. A month ago, I would have told you to not trust her. A parent that close with their kid must be hiding something and you’ve got to figure out what it is. Today, I see things differently. The happenings in my life are completely different from yours, so I beg you, hold on to your mother. Never let her go.

Am I wrong in assuming that you’re muddlemoogle muggle-born? Or you’ve at least spent most of your life in the muggle world, right? I relate to your expectations and experiences at Hogwarts. Honestly, it sounded too good to be true to me. Just like a fantasy adventure. I was also sure that I was facing an elaborate prank, one set up by my parents for me to get over everything that happened. If I had come here with a more open mind, I think it would have been the best thing to ever happen to me. A real-life game. I hate that I can’t be excited about it. Though, failing a spell can surely happen in one of those games. How badly it fails all rests on the shoulders of the dungeon master. My father was a benevolent one. If he was telling this story of our time at Hogwarts, it would have been a much happier experience for me. Of course, there’s no real-life danger to those games.

I’ve only heard stories of the ball through the grapevine. I was there, but I was able to escape quickly thanks to some kind soul with a broom. I had no idea that things got so bad. I’m so sorry that you had to experience it all. But I also heard that when the teachers came in, everything was taken care of. The students were saved and I don’t think anything about detention came up. Listen, I really understand what it feels like to think that being here is a mistake. I’m trying to see things in a better light, but I still feel like it was a gigantic mistake to enroll. Or just that I’m a mistake. But we’re in this school for seven years, right? One day, all those kids you saw running around, ignoring people in danger and acting impulsively? One day they’re going to be just like the teachers. Skilled, patient and mindful. It’s all a part of growing up. Magic adds greater stakes, but we’ll be okay in the end. I believe that. I have to.

Please, don’t be sorry for writing what you need to! I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but I like reading about it. Since coming to Hogwarts, it seemed like I was the only one with problems. I knew that couldn’t be true, but everyone laughed all the time. They made friends so easily. They go on adventures together. They protect each other. I felt so alone. My issues consumed me to the point where I pushed away everyone that tried to befriend me. Reading your letter has given me insight. It makes me more aware that others are facing their own problems and I shouldn’t be too quick to say someone has it easy.

Oh, I remember that errand. I wanted to join. The rewards sounded pleasing. But I didn’t have anyone to write to, so I skipped. I should have taken a page from your book and left letters around the school. I love the idea of leaving easter eggs in real life. I guess it’s good that I didn’t though. Back then, I’m sure I would have filled those letters with really mean things.

Now I’m realizing that adventure itself wasn’t what I was afraid of. I was scared of a lot of other things that prevented me from going on adventures. I’m scared of getting close to people. I’m scared of being judged by people. I left home in a bad way and if my mother heard I was ‘adventuring’ she would probably think I was happy to be here. But that’s the last thing I want her to think – or wanted her to think, maybe. I don’t know. I’ve just been a mess of emotions for this entire year and I want to be able to enjoy myself here, so I’m trying to stop getting worked up over every little thing. It’s too late to go adventuring this year because I think I’m still scared. But next year, I’ll try. I don’t know if you ever want to meet me, and I don’t know if I ever want to meet you, but in the case that we do happen to cross paths in real life, I hope you’ll show me those secret passages you found. That sounds like a fun time and they would probably make for a great hiding place if things get too overwhelming.

And apologies for how messy my first letter was. There were many dark clouds over my head around that time and while the thunderstorms have not gone away, I can finally see a little sunlight peeking through. I can’t give you all the credit, Nightingale, but your words definitely played a part in that. Feel free to write to me with any problems you might have. If you want to reach me in August, you can send your owl to the Brighton Palace Pier.

Thank you and I will try to go boldly, Captain Kirk.

#letters

0 notes