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side-shawty · 4 years

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Burn XIV (Stark!Reader)

XIV: Family Business

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Family is not just blood.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The next morning you somehow found yourself a tangle of arms and legs with Peter.

After the initial wariness of your surroundings faded you were still finding it hard to believe this was all real you relaxed into him again. You pushed your face into his chest and breathed in his calming scent as his strong arms unconsciously tightened around you.

Your eyes slipped closed again and you were almost asleep again when the light sliding of the door opening could be heard.

You hoped they’d go away once they saw you were both asleep but there was no such peace with the Avengers.

“Aww look at how cute they are. You owe me five bucks Sam,” Natasha spoke.

“No you owe me, I said they’d be attached at the hip within 12 hours and you said 20,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, but I said 8 so, both of you pay up,” Bucky interrupted and it took everything in you not to look at them and roll your eyes.

You could hear the exchange of money and Bucky’s over-enthused “Thank you,” in reply.

Peter groaned beside you and held you closer, “You guys are way too loud,” he told them, eyes still closed.

“And you’re way too stingy, can’t we see her too?” Nat said and you giggled a little at that, effectively blowing your cover.

“She’s up!” Sam said and you and Peter both sat up, rubbing at your eyes and stretching.

“She wants to go back to sleep,” you told them and they laughed lightly.

“No time for that. Time for hugs,” Nat said, coming to your side of the bed.

Meanwhile, Peter got out of the bed and told you he’d be back with breakfast before kissing your cheek. The simple action made you giddy.

“Bleh,” Bucky fake gagged as Peter left and he and sam sat in his now vacant spot.

You hugged each of them tight, you hadn’t realized how much you missed everyone.

“So lover boy was here all night, huh?” Sam asked wiggling his eyebrows as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Yes he was, we talked and we slept and I will take no more questions,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“That better be it,” Bucky said but there was no threat in his voice that warranted concern.

“Gosh, you’re really showing your age today aren’t you Buck?” Nat teased before turning to you. “Earlier he asked me what an AirPod was,” she laughed and you laughed with her.

“And here I thought you were getting the hang of this new fangled century,” you told him.

“Listen I’m trying okay, everything is so fancy for no reason,” he sulked and you laughed again.

“Seriously though kid, how are you?” Sam questioned and they all looked at you expectantly.

“In one piece,” you said honestly. “Some scrapes and bruises and a cut on the back of my neck that’ll probably scar but I’m alive,” you smiled.

“Was it a shock device?” Bucky asked darkly.

You hesitated before answering, “Yeah.”

Bucky’s metal arm flexed as he balled his hand into a fist, “I’ll fucking kill those HYDRA assholes one day.”

You placed a hand on top of his fist, “Hey,” he looked up at you, “I’m alright. Thanks to all of you I’m here and breathing. I love you guys.”

Before you knew it they pulled you into a hug and you held back tears giving you their own declarations of love. When Peter came back in with food they all decided to let you eat in peace with your boyfriend. Peter told you the doctors would be here around one and in the meantime, you’d probably get several visitors.

All too soon, he had to leave for the city, there was only so much school he could avoid without the possibility of not graduating on time. He left with a promise returning that evening and a soft kiss on your lips.

Before anyone new came in you asked FRIDAY to call your mom downstairs. She helped you shower and change into sweats and one of Peter’s shirts with a wink. She told you that she would have stayed longer but Morgan would be waking up for the day soon.

Your dad stopped by for a little after she left and after Sam and Bucky blew something up he also had to leave.

The next ones to walk through the door were Steve and Rhodey.

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite soldiers,” you smiled as they walked in.

“As long as I’m the number one favorite I accept,” Rhodey said before gathering you into his arms for a tight hug.

When he let go Steve was next, “Keep dreaming Rhodes.”

“Well I would tell you who my favorite was if I thought it wouldn’t hurt your feelings,” you told them as they had taken the same positions as everyone else and sat on either side of you.

“C’mon now Y/N you wouldn’t want to give the old man a heart attack.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, how are you Y/N?” Steve asked.

“Good, healing, y’know? Seems like it’ll be a long process but I feel better than I did when I first woke up last night.”

“I’m glad to hear it, we’re only going up from here.”

“Definitely, by the way, I haven’t seen Thor, Clint, or Bruce today.”

“Thor is off-world, apparently whatever HYDRA used to brainwash Harley is similar to the mind stone so he’s trying to get it out ahead of it,” Steve told you.

“Clint had to run home, Laura is going to give birth soon and Bruce should be by later with your other doctors,” Rhodey finished.

“Ah got it. I cant wait for little Y/N to be born,” you said.

“Yeah because Barton is definitely gonna want to name is kid after the girl who put retractable grates in the vents to mess with him,” Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Well he shouldn’t have tried to prank me on my own turf.”

“Everywhere is your turf,” Steve said.

You grinned, “Exactly.”

Steve hesitated before speaking again and his face became solemn, “Listen I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you that night.”

“So am I, we’re family, I should have protected you,” Rhodey added. They both let their heads hang low.

You took one of each of their hands into you, “You guys, look at me,” they obeyed, “I’m so incredibly happy right now you have no idea. A lot went wrong but I’m okay, even if I do have to spend a couple extra days in here.”

They both smiled at you and things felt okay again. They stayed for a little while longer leaving you with words of encouragement before you were once again left alone.

However, you weren’t suffocating the way you had been at HYDRA. You asked FRIDAY to project the water by the compound onto the right wall, it felt like you could finally release all the tension in your body.

Before you knew it your eyes slipped closed and you fell asleep.

——

You were awakened again by the sound of the door opening, this time Bruce and your dad walked in with —

“Well this is quite the surprise,” you said smiling.

“How could I not visit my favorite fire-wielding hero,” he spoke and made his way over to bring you into a tight hug.

Bruce hugged you next with a smile and then went over to one of the machines you had unhooked when you first woke up. Your dad gave you a kiss on the forehead and then stood beside the other scientist.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Doctor Strange?” You asked.

“You know me,” He took a seat next to you on the bed, “I love popping in and out but after I heard what happen I made sure your dad kept me in the loop. I know magic stuff keeps me busy but I am still your Godfather,” he told you.

“Mystical Godfather,” Tony threw in, “A totally made up title.”

Strange rolled his eyes and silently mocked your dad, “Still a title.”

“Debatable.”

You laughed lightly at their childishness.

“In all seriousness though, your dad ordered a full workup. He said your flames turned purple and wanted to make sure it didn’t damage your body in a non-tradition sense,” he told you and you nodded.

“So I only get a visit if my life at risk?” You asked overdramatically, throwing a hand to your forehead, “You wound me.”

“Haha, very funny. Now sit up straight while I work my … magic,” he said.

“Booo, your jokes have gotten worse since Christine got pregnant,” However, you sat up straight as he stood.

Strange was quick to begin in a flash of warm light symbols surrounded you, several of them had even went in and out of your body.

After a few minutes, he was finished and the light and symbols faded away. His face was littered with mixed emotions.

“What is it?” You asked, concerned.

“Are you alright?” Strange asked and the question grabbed the attention of Bruce and Tony.

You were confused, “I mean aside from some injuries that might scar I feel fine.”

“Tired? Weak? Foggy mind?” Strange asked.

“Barely, it was bad when I first woke up though. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Part of what a ‘full workup’ is is looking into your soul or aura and it seems like whatever happened when you released those purple flames caused a hole,” Strange explained.

The room was silent. All three men looked at you anxiously as you sat in shock, you weren’t sure what to say.

“So a piece of he is just poof! Gone?” Tony asked, bewildered at the idea.

“It’s a small piece but essentially, yes. There’s a chance it may come back over time but things like this are usually done only in dire situations of stress or emotional turmoil.”

“Well my situation checks all the boxes,” you said quietly to yourself.

It was then that tour father decided to move from his spot beside Bruce and wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I think so, this is just a lot to process.”

He nodded and the room fell into silence once again.

“Well on the bright side,” Bruce spoke up, “It seems the damage Hydra did to your powers was temporary. If your readings are correct, you should be at 100% in no time,” he finished with a comforting smile.

“Thanks, Bruce. That actually does make me feel a little better,” you smiled with him.

After that Bruce ran a couple more tests and then the three men were gone again. However, your father did leave you your phone which you were beyond grateful for. You were playing a random game on it when Dr. Evans came to give you a quick check-up and update before leaving.

You had a few more hours of peace before your next visitor decided to show their face, it had to be well after sunset by now.

There were two knocks on your door and you replied for them to come in. You locked your phone and placed it on your bed as he entered and for some reason seeing him made you lose your breath.

“Harley,” you whispered.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

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taylizmasterpost · 4 years

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Swiftgron Shows Up, Liz Spirals (March 2012 - September 2012)

This is not going to be a timeline of Swiftgron and their relationship. For that, you can go to the @swiftgronmasterpost. This is just to show how, when things got serious with Dianna, things deteriorated between Taylor and Liz:

25 March 2012 - Swiftgron go watch the Hunger Games together. Taylor follows Dianna on Twitter afterwards. This is likely their first actual date:

27 March 2012 - Liz tweets this:

Was this in response to Swifgron’s first date? Maybe. Was Liz jealous Taylor had pulled the exact same move on Dianna that she’d pulled on her back in 2009 when she took her to Valentine’s Day? Also maybe. But also maybe not. Still, #Lizgototherapychallenge.

30 March 2012 - Taylor introduces Dianna to her mom, they all get dinner together:

12 April 2012 - Dianna blows a kiss to Taylor on Jimmy Kimmel.

18 April 2012 - Mutual friend Chantelle tweets that she spent the night and early morning hanging out with TayLiz.

Chantelle will post a picture of her, Taylor and Liz hanging out in a kitchen together almost a year later -- when the girls don’t seem to be on speaking terms -- making me think this picture was taken on this night:

24 April 2012 - Swiftgron Shirley MacLane party happens:

27 April 2012 - Taylor and someone (possibly Liz) are papped getting lunch together in LA. The secret message for the song “The Last Time,” which will be written in a few months, is “LA On Your Break.” They’re certainly in LA, and the tour is certainly on break. Perhaps this is Taylor finally ending things with Liz.

Liz tweets at Taylor about Skittles later that day, making me think it was her at lunch.

28 April 2012 - Dianna’s birthday party. Taylor dresses as a tiger and leaves a note on the door with a joke they’d made that reads “I’m a little kitten and I need to nurse because I’m a runt and I’m likely to fall victim to predators.”

10 May 2012 - Taylor posts on Instagram “Going back to Nashville. Thinking about the whole thing. Guess you gotta run sometimes.”

This is from the song Nashville by David Mead. Other interesting lyrics include:

You’re a distant memory, you’re an exit sign I was talking crazy on the driver’s side

I was talking crazy on the driver’s side I will always love you like a long goodbye

The driving references are interesting, considering that Red has the theme of driving all over it. “I will always love you like a long goodbye” also seems to support the theory that Taylor has just finally broken things off with Liz.

15 May 2012 - Taylor finishes writing Everything Has Changed with Ed Sheeran then gets dinner with Dianna Ashley and Claire. The original lyrics of Everything Has Changed talk about “falling for a Gemini,” which describes Gemini Liz, but Taylor seems to have re-fitted the song to be about Dianna and removed those lyrics:

27 May 2012 - Liz’s birthday. Taylor does not tweet at her. No pictures are posted of the party, if there is one.

28 May 2012 - Taylor and Ed record Everything Has Changed:

Late May 2012 - Taylor writes The Last Time:

Here’s what she had to say about the inspiration for the song:

The Last Time is a hard song for me to analyze, not because I don’t have theories about what it means, but because I think Taylor is oversimplifying the story here. To me, looking at this song, assuming it’s about Liz, it reads less like a pleading “baby I want you back” song, and more like an “I’m losing you to addiction song.”

We haven’t fully gotten into this yet, but Liz was dealing with a lot of mental and internal shit at this time. According to rumor, she’s about to be let go from The Agency due to getting “out of control,” and the songs she writes this summer, including Wreck of Who I Am, definitely seem to imply she was trying to claw her way out of a spiral here. When I listen to The Last Time through this lens, it feels more like a last chance, pleading intervention.

Wreck of Who I Am:

And the tide is strong that it keeps me from the land

And I’m low on faith and I pray with shaky hands

Well it hurts like hell tryna tell myself

This ain’t the only thing that’s meant for me

Gotta piece back together the wreck of who I am

The Last Time

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye

And there’s also the fact that The Last Time seems like it was written on if not around Liz’s birthday (May 27).

3 June 2012 - Dianna jokes at the GLAAD Awards about having kissed girls before:

4 June 2012 - Liz does some songwriting of her own with Seth Jones and Megan Mace:

Taylor and Liz’s dresses from Mean are placed next to each other at the Speak Now Tour Exhibition:

10 June 2012 - Taylor diaries about recording 22, and IKYWT, says she’s already written WANEGBT:

Story behind WANEGBT: I wrote it with Max Martin and Johan Shellback who are two of my songwriting heroes, they’re amazing. And we were in the studio, and we were writing a different song and this guy walks in who I- was- A friend of someone I had previously… dated. And he comes in and he’s like “Oh, I hear you and [redacted] are getting back together” and um that was like his opening line. And we weren’t. We’d done that whole like on/off on/off just the worst. Bleh. And um… And so when he left I just turned to Max and I was like “We are never getting back together. What? That’s ridiculous!” Um and I told them the whole situation as I do ‘cause I tend to share, as you know. And so uh he just looked at me and he was like “I know the song we’re writing today. Let’s start a new one.” And so I got the guitar and it just sort of happened and so uh this is that song.

So what we know from this is that it is HIGHLY more likely that a friend of Liz just happened to walk into the studio that day than a friend of either Jake or Dianna (I’m guessing someone from The Agency maybe? Taylor seems to fumble when choosing how to describe them)

Martin and Shellback are credited on three songs on red -- WANEGBT, IKYWT, and 22. We know Taylor wrote 22 here. She also says she “came back to trouble.” From that I can assume they were trying to write IKYWT when this story took place.

The secret message for WANEGBT is “When I stopped caring what you thought.” To me, this really signals things have broken down between them. Rather than the pleading in The Last Time, this is song is much more distant and moved on, where Taylor is able to have a sense of humor about the breakup.

18 June 2012 - A friend of Liz’s tweets this at Taylor (am I the only one sensing some shade??):

1 July 2012 - Liz does some songwriting in Nashville:

Between this session and the session on the fourth, presumably the songs she’d release later that winter (One Hand On the Wheel, Wreck of Who I Am, and Blessed Are the Brokenhearted) are written here, making it seem like Liz is processing both some depression and a breakup of some sort.

8 July 2012 - Taylor takes pictures with a fan at a coffee shop (presumably in Nashville). According to the fan’s account, Liz was also there, sitting at the table behind them. The fan ends up taking pictures with both Liz and Taylor:

I’m not entirely sure what this means for them. Obviously Taylor has just written The Last Time (presumably about Liz) and then gone off to Hy(i)annis port with Dianna to go frolic in the waves and all that, so I don’t think this means TayLiz is back on. However, we know from fan accounts (which I’ll get to in a second) that Liz thought she was going to be coming on the Red Tour until she was let go from The Agency in September. Perhaps this is some amount of reconciliation? A check in? An ultimatum to get her act together or she won’t be allowed on tour?

Truthfully, we can’t know for sure. But this is one of their last hang outs together (that we know of) this year.

13 August 2012 - Taylor’s Red Youtube Webchat. She describes what some of the songs on the album are about

22: This is a song that I wrote with Max Martin and Johan Shellback and it’s a song about the way I spent my summer when I was finishing this album. Kind of hanging out with my friends all the time and I really decided that I love being twenty two. It’s um kind of my favorite age that I’ve ever been. I kind of have like different theories of the years in my life and like what they meant and 22 has been so much fun. It’s- it’s been so much fun and I decided to write a song about that and just all the ridiculous nonsense that my friends and I got into. And, um, so this one’s called 22.

Treacherous: This is a song that I wrote with Dan Wilson… I’ve always wanted to work with him. So I called him and um it turned out that he was into the idea of working with me. And um so I went in with this idea and uh we wrote a song about when you’re falling for someone and you know that it’s dangerous. And you know that it could really really really really really just annihilate you if it were to not work out and it could possibly not work out and it probably won’t work out, but you go for it anyway. And so this is called Treacherous.

31 August 2012 - We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together is released as a single. The MV features the rest of the Agency, but not Liz. Fans take notice.

13 September 2012 - The news breaks that Liz is leaving The Agency and will not be on the Red Tour:

Interestingly enough, according to the L Chat, Liz had been telling fans that she was planning on going on the Red Tour before this point, so something must’ve happened:

And because of this fan encounter below, we have somewhat of an idea of what it was:

So from the combined events of this summer we know this about Liz being let go:

1) Liz wrote songs that summer about having a hard time and trying to claw her way out of it.

2) Taylor and Liz met up twice that summer, and Taylor did not acknowledge Liz’s birthday publicly.

3) Taylor may have written The Last Time, a song about begging someone to choose you over other things (possibly addiction) on Liz’s birthday.

4) Liz thought she was going on The Red Tour.

5) Liz was fired for “getting out of control.”

The picture this paints to me is that, while Liz was spiraling, Taylor was trying to help her, using coming on the Red Tour as a reward for getting her act together. When she ultimately couldn’t, presumably after that meeting in July, Taylor had no choice but to ask her to leave the Agency, since hardcore intense tour life is likely the last thing Liz needed to get better. This is a really difficult and hard situation, regardless of whether or not the two women were ever sexually or romantically involved.

Fortunately, as we’ll see moving forward, this seems to be the wake up call Liz needed to start the process of getting back on her feet. However, it’s clear that for at least a little bit after this, Taylor became a taboo topic around Liz. But ask anyone who’s dealt with addiction or helped a friend/family member through it -- there’s some resentment that’s bound to happen, even towards the people trying to help.

20 September 2012 - Liz spends “quality time” with Claire and Taylor:

I personally read this as one last hurrah of the trio after Liz was not asked back for the Red Tour. The “not mad at this day” feels a little weird to me too, and I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be shade or not. Either way, this is the last major interaction between Taylor and Liz for a while.

IN CONCLUSION: Liz had her demons. Whether this is what caused the end of her and Taylor’s relationship or something else, it’s almost certainly what caused her to not be asked back on the Red Tour. In the winter, she would release the music she was writing over the summer, making it clear she was going through some shit, probably not helped by seeing Taylor so obviously move on with Dianna. But this is the low point. Things with Liz can only go up from here.

Liz After the Agency (September 2012 - September 2014)

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daddystevee · 4 years

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The Only Exception

(Steve Harrington x reader)

Bleh i feel like this has potential but like i feel like i absolutely butchered it.. :( but i redeemed myself in the end i think. Heh were gonna pretend that Paramore was a thing in the 80s because why the fuck not. This fic was written with the help of tiktok aus and The Only Exception by paramore heh.

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: a few curse words, a small panic attack situation, mention of a gun, and lots of angst spelling and bad grammar??

Summary: an AU in which everyone has a soulmate, on your 20th birthday a number pops up on your wrist telling you how far away you are from them. Reader has a hard time with love and believing in good things associated with love.

Soulmates are a tricky thing. Growing up you were told that soulmates are supposed to be someone that just gets you. A connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It was about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side.

But in reality, soulmates were determined by a couple of numbers that would pop on your wrists, telling you how far apart the two of you were on your 20th birthday. You weren’t sure who came up with the idea, but you hoped they realized how dumb it was. Sometimes there were people who really wouldn’t ever find their other half.

When you were younger, you never really realized how much your parents would argue. But what you did notice was that your mom and dad’s numbers on their wrists weren’t at 0 or at least in the lower single digits, your moms was 358 and your dads was 690. Meaning that they weren’t really soulmates, just two people who put up with each other's bullshit for no reason. Making you believe that you didn’t necessarily need your soulmate to be “happy”.

As you got older, you started to see the major flaws in your parents relationship. Your parents were constantly yelling at each other for no reason. Everything changed the day your father pulled a gun on both you and your mother. After that, your mother packed up everything the two of you had and ran, as far away as she could with your father constantly knowing how far away you were.

From that day forward, you vowed to never let your guard down. Never letting yourself fall in love and to forever believe that no matter what number popped up on your wrist, soulmates didn’t exist.

After running from your biological father for what seemed like years, the two of you ended up in a boring little town called Hawkins, Indiana. Where you would start your life over for the first time at the age of 12. Over the next 5 years you would learn that Hawkins was not a boring town because at the beginning of your junior year of high school, at 17 years old you would get sucked into this dark place that looked just like home, but it wasn’t.

You somehow survive, running from a scary creature that would open its face and eat anything in its path. No matter what you did, it seemed like you could never run away from this thing. You would experience this insane encounter alongside a 12 year old, who you would learn is named Will Byers. After what felt like months you would finally be rescued.

You would eventually go back to school to finish out your junior year of high school, but not without making friends with Will and a bunch of other 12 year olds. Along with the kids came automatic friendships with the older siblings as well, including Steve.

A year after your first experience with the Upside Down everything was fine and normal, you thought that it was all over. Boy were you wrong, Will started to have these visions of the alternate universe the two of you had been trapped in.

You were fine but knew this creature and that world better than anyone else, so as much as you really didn’t want to, you opted to help out as much as you could staying close to the other kids and really just making sure that they were safe. They were your family after all.

As the battle went on you grew closer to Steve Harrington, learning to call him your best friend. He was the only one who you knew well enough and could get you to open up and let your guard down a little bit, but you had to tough it out because you made a promise to yourself and you had to keep it. You couldn’t take that risk. The boy had some sort of soft spot in your heart and you refused to believe it and would never let anyone know about it.

May 29th, 1985 was a sad day for everyone, it was the day you would be moving away from everything you had. All of the kids, Nancy, Jonathan, and your best friend Steve. Steve, the boy who you had grown up beside, the boy you fought inter-dimensional monsters with.

You were driving across the country to go to the University of Southern California. Saying that this wasn’t an easy choice would be a lie. You knew exactly what you were doing, running away from your fears, that was all you knew how to do but you knew that if you didn’t leave now you would never get out of there. You always have to put your safety and mental health first, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“Promise you’ll call every day?” Steve asks you, pulling you into a hug.

“Only if you promise to answer.” you say with a sad laugh, you never planned on ever calling home.

Here you were, in Los Angeles, California. 2,105 miles away from home. An entire year later and you still hadn’t called home, if that's what you would even call it. You refused to associate yourself with that place ever again and had completely wiped that section of your life from your memories. A voice in the back of your mind was constantly calling you back, but you always ignored it.You were starting your life completely over for the second time, at 19 years old, in California. You lived in a two bedroom apartment with your new best friend and her ‘soulmate’. While you were happy for them, you couldn’t help but be jealous of their happiness.

It was your 20th birthday, and you had no plan on looking to see how far your soulmate was from you. You didn’t care, all soulmate’s were shit and ‘happily ever after’s’ didn’t actually exist. You planned on just getting drunk with your friend and forgetting about life for a night.

“So I was thinking we could go to a karaoke bar tonight? How does that sound?” your best friend Logan asked you walking out of her and her boyfriend’s shared room

“I mean I suck at singing but-”

“Yeah, but being drunk makes everyone a great singer”

“I guess so. Just us right?” you asked, while Logan and her boyfriend were cute you honestly hated third wheeling it always made you feel some sort of way. Jealous maybe?

“Of course! Now let's get you ready! You never know you might just bump into someone special” she says wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” you say unamused, rolling your eyes while walking off to your room to get ready.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve gotta sing at least one song while we're here.” your best friend slurred while pulling you along behind her, obviously too drunk for her own good. You ended up not drinking as much as you had planned, but the two of you had to get home somehow.

“I’m not drunk enough, you might be but I am most certainly...” but before you could object anymore she had already chosen a song and shoved a microphone in your hand pushing you onto the stage. “.. what the fuck? I don’t even know what song this is?”

“Yes you do! I hear you singing it in your room all hours of the night..” she says stumbling off into the crowd.

The beginning chords to the song start to play over the speakers and you know exactly what song it is. You looked down at the microphone in your hand and refused to look up at the audience, yet the words came out of your mouth naturally, as easy as breathing. No one truly knew your story, except one person. That person was Steve Harrington. The one who always brought butterflies to your stomach even though you told yourself that this was wrong.

“Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul, that love never lasts.”

You had beat yourself up over it for months, you refused to let him get in the way. You were never going to be happy, that was just how this worked.

“But you are, the only exception”

Maybe there were exceptions in the world and you just weren’t lucky enough to believe in that shit.

“You are, the only exception”

Something in your gut told you to look up at the crowd and expected to look for Logan among all of the people.

“You are, the only exception”

What you didn’t expect to see was a familiar set of brown eyes looking at you from the back of the room.

“You are, the only exception”

You suddenly felt like it was impossible to breathe but you were still singing out the words from your heart.

“Oh, and I'm on my way to believing.”

As you sang the last words of the song you dropped the mic, making a break for the side exit door, not thinking about your drunk friend at this moment. You just had to get out of there without having to talk to him. You didn’t get very far before you felt a hand grab onto your wrist,

“Let go of me!” you tried to jerk away from him but his grip was strong. You turned to him and attempted to pull his hand off of your wrist all while avoiding his eyes. “What’s your problem?” you ask frustrated.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem?” he says, you stop trying to pull away and he lets go of your arm you could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face. “You left, and none of us heard from you for a year. The kids literally thought you were dead.”

“Yeah well-” you say with a shrug but are suddenly at a loss for words.

“Yeah well what? You promised you’d call. I waited and waited and waited for months and got nothing.” he says, and without looking at him you could tell that he was really upset about it.

“Well…” you say while thinking of a bullshit excuse, “I suck at keeping promises, so I don’t know why you’d hold me to it.”

“Promises?” he scoffs, “You suck at keeping promises? Yet keep an eight year promise to yourself?”

“That’s different.��

“Y/N, you've made plenty of promises to me in the past and always kept them. I don’t know what was so different about this one. All you had to do was make one simple phone call.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to call you. Did you think about that? Maybe I wanted nothing to do with you guys again!” you yell at him, “How the hell did you find me anyways?”

It went completely silent. You could hear a pen drop in the parking lot.

“I- I don’t really think that, that's important..”

“Steve, how the hell did you find me?” you ask finally looking up at him for the first time in a year.

“Well, I know where you moved to.. Because you know you told me what college you were going to before you left.”

“Yes, but how did you know exactly where to find me?”

Steve reaches down to pull up his sleeves of his jean jacket to show you the numbers on his wrist. You refuse to look at it, continuing to look up at his face shaking your head in denial.

“No, there’s no way. It’s not possible.”

“Have you looked at your wrist yet today?”

“No, I told myself that it wasn’t important and that it didn’t matter.”

“Look at it then.” he says grabbing your hand. But as he does this you quickly pull your hand away from him. grabbing onto your wrist.

The voice in the back of your head tells you not to do it, but your heart says otherwise. For whatever reason you listen to your heart for the first time in a while and slowly pull up the mesh material that was covering your arms. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but when you know you’ve got your wrist uncovered you open your eyes and look down. Tears are suddenly streaming down your face, sure enough there was a perfectly placed ‘0’ on both of your wrists.

“No- soulmates they- they aren’t real.” you start to stutter over your words “This isn’t going to work. I know how this ends, and it’s not good.” you start to hyperventilate thinking about your parents. Knowing that everything went wrong and there was no good to this.

Steve places his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, “Hey, relax. It's okay, you're going to be okay.” He slowly pulled you into a hug.

“Is this- a dream?” you ask in between short breaths pulling him closer to you.

“It kinda feels like it but no, it's not.” he says resting his chin on top of your head.

The two of you stood there for a few moments taking in this new feeling.

“I’m tired of running.”

“Then stop running, and walk.”

“But what if I stumble and fall?”

“Then, I’‘ll be there to catch you.”

After that night you ended up leaving USC and transferring to a local college near right outside of Hawkins. The kids were ecstatic to see you when you got home, pulling you in for a giant group hug.

“Don’t you ever leave us like that again.” Mike says to you

“Yeah, we thought you died!” Dustin says dramatically squeezing you tighter.

“Well, I can promise you one thing right now.” you say looking to Steve, letting a small smile fall onto your lips, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Steve, how did you find her?” Lucas asks as he pulls away. Steve looks at you and you both bull up your sleeves showing them your numbers being at ‘0’ and they all look between the two of you.

“Ewwww, they’re sOuLmAtEs” Dustin yells out, a taller dirty blond walks over and smacks him on the back of the head.

“Shut up Dufus, let Dingus have his moment.” the girl says already knowing the story

“I don’t know who you are, but I love you already.”

“I’m Robin” she says sticking out her hand, but you were the happiest you had been in a long time so you just reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m Y/N.” everyone stood there looking at the two of you before bursting into a fit of giggles, which turned into pointless laughter, making everyone double over.

Everyone’s story was different, and there was a lot of work to be done on yours but Steve was going to be there every step of the way. To show you that not everything was perfect, but everyone had their chance at a ‘happily ever after’.

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somegirlsnerdywords2 · 4 years

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Anime i’ve Watched

That begin with a S (Part 3)!

Yep this is how i’m going to bring over all the anime and manga i’ve watched and posted about on the old blog. It’s not so detailed but it will have to do. Anything new I watch or read from this point on will have their own posts.

Shinsekai yori (From the New World):

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Psychological, Sci-fi, SUpernatural

Synopsis: In the town of Kamisu 66, 12-year-old Saki Watanabe has just awakened to her psychic powers and is relieved to rejoin her friends—the mischievous Satoru Asahina, the shy Mamoru Itou, the cheerful Maria Akizuki, and Shun Aonuma, a mysterious boy whom Saki admires—at Sage Academy, a special school for psychics. However, unease looms as Saki begins to question the fate of those unable to awaken to their powers, and the children begin to get involved with secretive matters such as the rumored Tainted Cats said to abduct children. Shinsekai yori tells the unique coming-of-age story of Saki and her friends as they journey to grow into their roles in the supposed utopia. Accepting these roles, however, might not come easy when faced with the dark and shocking truths of society, and the impending havoc born from the new world. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2013 with a total of 25 episodes.

MY Thoughts: What a wild concept and execution. I feel like some bits were executed a bit poor but overall it’s an interesting anime worth at least a single watch in my opinion.

Shisha no Teikoku (The Empire of Corpses):

Genres: Film, Sci-fi, Historical, Psychological

Synopsis: By the 19th century, humanity has cultivated technology enabling the reanimation of corpses. Unable to experience individual thoughts or emotions, the corpses are programmed by humans to act as laborers in various occupations. This newfound technology, however, comes with a catch. Science may be able to restore the corpses' ability to move, yet it cannot return what every corpse loses at death: the soul. But Doctor Victor Frankenstein, who vanished shortly after his revolutionary work on corpse reanimation, is said to have revived the only corpse in possession of a soul. In pursuit of this scientific knowledge, London medical student John Watson hopes to fulfill his promise to his late partner, Friday. After being scouted by a government agency, Watson is on a hunt to obtain Frankenstein's notes, which he believes hold the key to the secrets of the soul. During his search, Watson uncovers the harsh realities of the developing corpse technology and the price he must pay to advance his research. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 5/10

A film released in 2015.

My Thoughts: Very clear Frankenstein influence. Pretty bleh. Nothing great. Not worth a watch.

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu:

Genres: Drama, Historical, Josei

Synopsis: Yotarou is a former yakuza member fresh out of prison and fixated on just one thing: rather than return to a life of crime, the young man aspires to take to the stage of Rakugo, a traditional Japanese form of comedic storytelling. Inspired during his incarceration by the performance of distinguished practitioner Yakumo Yuurakutei, he sets his mind on meeting the man who changed his life. After hearing Yotarou's desperate appeal for his mentorship, Yakumo is left with no choice but to accept his very first apprentice. As he eagerly begins his training, Yotarou meets Konatsu, an abrasive young woman who has been under Yakumo's care ever since her beloved father Sukeroku Yuurakutei, another prolific Rakugo performer, passed away. Through her hidden passion, Yotarou is drawn to Sukeroku's unique style of Rakugo despite learning under contrasting techniques. Upon seeing this, old memories and feelings return to Yakumo who reminisces about a much earlier time when he made a promise with his greatest rival. Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu is a story set in both the past and present, depicting the art of Rakugo, the relationships it creates, and the lives and hearts of those dedicated to keeping the unique form of storytelling alive. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 10/10

Finished airing in 2016 with a total of 13 episodes.

My Thoughts: A masterpiece, one of my favourite animes to date and it even has a sequel! Great artwork, music, story and characters. A very interesting experience. That being said... it may not be an anime for everyone but if it interests you I highly recommend this particular title!

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen:

Genres: Drama, Historical, Josei

Synopsis: Even after having risen to the utmost rank of shun'ichi, Yotaro struggles to find his own identity in the world of rakugo. Caught between his master's teachings and the late Sukeroku's unique style, his performance lacks an important ingredient—ego. And while his popularity packs the theaters, he is but one of the few; rakugo is under threat of being eclipsed. Meanwhile Yakumo, regarded by many as the last bastion of preserving the popularity of rakugo, struggles to cope with his elderly state. Even though his performances are still stellar, he fears that he is nearing his limits. His doubts grow stronger as an old friend creeps ever closer. Konatsu, for her part, attempts to raise her son as a single mother, which Yotaro is heavily opposed to. Instead, he seeks to persuade her to marry him and in turn raise her son as his own. In Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen, the curtains fall on Yotaro and Yakumo's story, tasked with restoring the near-obsolete art form as well as overcoming their internal conflicts. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 10/10

Finished airing in 2017 with a total of 12 episodes.

My Thoughts: Just as good, if not better than the first season. A perfect ending to a perfect story.

Skip Beat!:

Genres: Comedy. Romance, Drama, Shoujo

Synopsis: Bright, diligent, and yet naïve 16-year-old Kyouko Mogami works hard to support the career and dreams of her childhood friend, crush, and rising pop icon, Shoutarou Fuwa. Toiling endlessly at burger joints and tea ceremonies, the innocent Kyouko remains unaware that day in day out, all her tireless efforts have been taken for granted, until, one day, she finds out that her beloved Shou sees her as nothing but a free servant. Shocked, heartbroken and enraged, she vows to take revenge on the rookie star by entering the ruthless world of entertainment herself. As she steps into this new life, Kyouko will face new challenges as well as people who will push her out of her comfort zone. Based on the best-selling shoujo manga by Yoshiki Nakamura, Skip Beat showcases the growth of a young woman who slowly unlearns how to work herself to the bone for the satisfaction of others and takes her future into her own hands instead. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 7/10

Finished airing in 2009 with a total of 25 episodes.

My Thoughts: I do not love the artwork... but that can be easily overlooked. Honestly I can’t remember all that much about this particular anime. I do know that it has a manga which is much further along than the anime.... so maybe you should check that out first if you’re interested and watch the anime as extra after?

#shinsekai yori #from the new world #anime #past anime #the empire of corpses #shisha no teikoku #films #shouwa genroku rakugo shinjuu

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erinhime83 · 4 years

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Since it’s been a day and my muse has shifted back into being interested in this story again (seriously, yesterday it did not want anything to do with WfS, which was annoying, because all I could think about Friday was potential details about the third, fourth, and fifth books. Nothing concrete – I have a plot for the third, and possibly for the fourth, but the fifth is just minor stuff right now), I figure it’s about time I do some sort of reflection on this damn thing. It’s not going to be very long (I think), because I’ve forgotten most of what I wanted to say about this because of course I have.

I had realized that I needed to do with story back when I was redoing ISoF, since this is the only story I’ve ever not won a NaNo with. Even though I didn’t finish the first version of ISoF, I still managed to get my 50,000 words in. Here, I got something like 17,000 or 26,000, not sure. I had attempted to work on it right after I found out I was pregnant, and I got all depressed because I thought I couldn’t be creative anymore. But in all honesty, this was actually a good thing, because the story I had was all shades of not going to work very well. Which is sort of why I struggled with it to begin with.

I’m not sure why I didn’t think to try it sooner, other than my muse was on different stories before this. So when it somehow shifted to WfS to the point where I decided to tweek the first book a little, I instantly knew I had to attempt July camp with it. And seriously, attempt. Like, I got it in my head earlier that I should try to go back to how I used to be with writing, popping out book after book, and I wanted to see if I could do it in a NaNo month, since the schedule I had used for November with the girls was still in place. And it worked! It really worked!

RIiighht up until Covid decided to shut everything down and I absolutely panicked to the point where I couldn’t write anymore. It didn’t help that I was plantsing the book, using the basic outline I had but also making it up as I went along. I, like, lost steam right at the end there, so yeah. I might have been able to continue with it if I had an idea of what I was doing.

And the same could be said about my April Camp attempt. Sure, I had my tooth issue that made it impossible to write and then, since I had lost a couple of days, I just couldn’t continue. Because I had no idea where I wanted to go with it (I have since figured it out potentially, and considering I do really want to get into the new Cosmic Dreamers, I may finish that one soonish). So even though I could have finished it later, I haven’t yet.

I did go into this one nervous as hell that something would happen and I wouldn’t be able to finish again. Except this time, I did have a full outline, I wasn’t plantsing it, so I might have been able to finish it regardless. But no. This time it went to @callistochan87. So…I guess we gotta keep an eye on @anijeltaventry in November. Or if I want to write again. (I feel bad being grateful that it was her and not me this time, and I feel like I might be able to since it was a crazy easy fix, she wasn’t in immense pain, and it sounds like her vision might not be completely damaged? I hope).

In any case, its sort of funny how tweeking just a couple of thing from my original idea completely changed what I had planned, but also changed my view on this one. Like I said, the original idea I had was garbage, and I never fully finished the outline because I couldn’t make it work very well. I was bound and determined to bring the other Volturnians from the crossover story into this one, and once I determined it was simply not possible, everything fell into place. I mean, just like the whole thing with Techna. I want Techna to be a thing, but she doesn’t do much. She’s really not useful in the story. So when I did away from her, again, everything just fell into place. More so than taking out the Volturnians.

And taking out the Volturnians was made possibly simply by creating Alan. See, one of the reasons why my muse was on WfS in the first place was because I wanted to watch a couple DC films. Death of Superman and Reign of the Supermen are my favorite, since they focus on the Lois/Superman relationship, and obviously I am all about that. And one of my favorite aspects of the new animate universes is that they always have Hal Jordan and Barry Allen be, like, BFFs IRL before the Justice League is formed. So I was like, I should do that. I should create a speedster character, and then have him be BFFs with Specter.

Except originally, Specter was an alien. That’s actually why he looks so opposite of Greg, with the pale skin, pale hair, and pale eyes. His species was supposed to be the anti-Volturnians. Also, the idea behind Spectrum was that they were all blind, and were able to ‘see’ thanks to the bracelets, but they could only ‘see’ basic colors. So if something was kinda red, they’d see it as straight red, that’s sort of thing. Oh, and Specter was supposed to be the villain.

Yep, what was supposed to happen was that he himself was going to arrest Greg for being a Volturnian on Earth. And then Lane would convince Roselyn to take her to Volturnas to get him back. And Miles was supposed to end up with Roselyn’s half-brother. Yep.

But giving Jordan a human BFF made me decide to make him human as well, and I think it works out so much better! I mean, I didn’t know anything about Spectrum until I was literally writing about it, but now I had this world-building thing that I can expand on for the next book, so yay! I was actually going to make it so he was blinded by the accident, but I sort of liked the idea of him being born blind, so the suddenly seeing thing would be more of a shock. Plus, if he had been blinded, then really, he could just always use his powers and never tell anyone he was blind. So...yeah.

(Also, I still love their names. Like, literally, I named Jordan what I did because Green Lantern’s last name could be a first name. Which is why it’s Jordan Halstrom. So I had to do the same with Alan. Alan Barnett instead of Barry Allen. Also, the name Speedy comes from Green Arrow’s sidekick, which I always thought was a better name for Kid Flash then, you know, Kid Flash.)

Looking at what I had originally planned and how much I ended up like Livianus, I realize that I could have had Miles end up with him instead of Jordan. I mean, I’m sort of mad at myself for deciding to make the rainbow superhero gay, but I randomly picked him instead of Alan. Which I think makes more sense. Alan is fricking nineteen. Miles might be only twenty-three, but I think the press would have an absolute field day with that. At least with Jordan, there’s only a three year age gap there. >.<

Let’s see, I’m not sure if there’s really anything else to mention. I mean, I sort of had fun at the beginning of the book, because it really looks like it’s going in a completely different direction than it took. But the thing is, when I was first planning WfS, I had two storylines I could have one with. The first one is the one I wrote, where Greg is a superhero and blah blah blah. The second storyline involved Greg being taken back to Volturnas when he was a teenager, and returning when they invade, and reuniting with Lane then. And then he and Lane attempting to stop the invasion and stuff.

And I guess after doing WfS, I realized I could still use some of the ideas of the second storyline. Like where Greg is taken back to Volturnas and Lane sneaks on the ship to go back with him, and her becoming one of his concubines. Sort of. So that’s where the whole plot of WCBH came into play. But as a result of the first act, I know what I want to do with the third yet-to-be-named book.

And also a Specter and Speedy prequel, and I’m like, damn, am I going to have time for all these books? Yeesh. Like, the prequel will be weird because Lane and Greg wouldn’t be in it, Miles will be mentioned, and, oh yeah, it’ll be told from a guy perspective. >.< But I still want to do it someday! *cries*

I did like how there was only one day where I had to play catch up, which is actually unusual for me. I always look at my days off when I’m not feeling writing a chapter and go ‘well, it’s easy to write a twofer or a chapter and a half those days!’, like I give myself an easy out. BUT thanks to convincing @callistochan87 to review the chapter after she read it, it motivated me to not only put a chapter out, but having it done before she got on so she could have a chance to read it. Which I severely miss. I was seriously sad on Friday night knowing that was the last time she was going to do it. Unless she, like, decides not to write in November. Then I could look forward to that then. But I doubt it. ;_;

I think the worst thing that came out of all this was, despite not thinking about it ALL DAY YESTERDAY, my muse decided last night to give me breakthrough with my idea of rewriting WfS where Greg didn’t ghost everyone when he decided to become Ultro. Like, I love the idea, and I was struggling to make certain parts make sense, but now I really want to do it. And the even worst bit is the back that my breakthrough makes it really stupidly easy just to go back, rewrite the first couple of chapters, and then just edit the rest of it. So, like, now I really, really want to do it! And I might! Because it means I don’t have to rewrite the series and be really annoyed that I can’t have Miles and Jordan together already. :D

So yeah, that’s where I’m at at the moment. Fun times with the muse. Bleh.

Still, I know I’ll look back on this book and be happy with it (except for the fact that I’d have to go back and tweek some things thanks to the rewrite of WfS). There were some things I struggled with, some ideas that I thought were stupid but had to use to move the plot forward. But that’s the best thing about first drafts! I can rework it all later to make more sense. I’m so happy that I’ve gotten this one under wraps! It only took over three years to do. XD

Thank you so much, @callistochan87, not for taking one for the team, but rather motivating me to write this and keep going with it. I know you think you didn’t do much, but just the fact that you were reading it helped so, so much, and that’s pretty true for all my stories! So I’ll always thank you for that. :D

I probably missed some things I wanted to say. I always do, it seems. ^^;

#wfs #book talk post

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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956

Be honest with yourself, are you proud of your actions? Yes. If there’s one good thing going for me it’s that I’m happy with the things I’ve done, overall. I regret few of my actions.

Have you ever had an operation? No, and the thought scares me to be honest. I get uncomfortable with the idea of being put under anaesthesia or being cut open D:

Favorite sit-down restaurant? Yabu, Frankie’s, or Mendokoro Ramenba. Missing all these places bigtime, too. I can’t wait to start getting my internship money, heh. Chicken wings will probably be one of the first things I’d buy.

What have you eaten today? I had sushi bake with nori sheets in the afternoon, during a lull at work.

Who has made you laugh the hardest in the last week? Rhett and Link, if people from YouTube count. But Angela made me laugh quite a bit today, if you’re looking for an irl person.

If you had to get a tattoo on your face to save your life, what would it be? But would I be down with the tattoo...? Probably should have been the first question you asked, haha.

What is something you find romantic? I like different ways of saying I love you without having to say those words. Like, “I thought of you when I saw this,” or “Should I drive to you?” or “Did you get home safe?” Those are my favorite things to hear when in a relationship; it makes me feel I’m looked out for, which I appreciate.

What is your style? Sometimes I like going the 90s route with graphic tees and high-waist denim jeans, but other days I like to look more modern or chic.

If you could be doing anything you like right now, what would it be? Not that I enjoy doing it, but I’d love to visit Nacho’s resting place right now. I’m just not sure if I’m allowed to go out at this time. I’m certainly hoping he wasn’t alone today and that he got a lot of love.

What is the best movie you have ever seen? Good Will Hunting.

What makes you attracted to the person you like right now? Intelligence.

What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about? I don’t appreciate jokes on miscarriages and rape, and those that poke fun at transphobia. Jokes on suicide and mental health issues can sometimes be offensive, but it depends on the context.

How long was your longest relationship? 4 years.

Would you rather live in a castle or a spaceship? I’d take the castle. I personally prefer the spaceship a lot more, but I feel like I’d be barfing in there a lot lmao. Also, the amount of controls and buttons that I’ll have to move around will probably overwhelm me.

Have you ever felt unimportant in someone’s life? Unfortunately, yes.

Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No. Not my gift of choice either, so I’d say it’s a good thing that no one has made one for me.

Did you have any unread texts this morning? I don’t think so, no.

What are your initials? RIAC.

What is your definition of “having sex”? I don’t feel like describing it in detail lol, just look it up.

Who was the last person you were “in a relationship with” on Facebook (including anyone you may have put “in a relationship with” for a joke)? I never used that feature on Facebook. I don’t like sharing too much personal info on there, because Filipino relatives tend to be nosy and gossip around lol. All they need to see are the memes I share and my political stances.

Do you think a relationship with a 16-year-old girl and a 35-year-old man would work out? Do you think age differences like that (when they’re under 18) should be legal? 16 years old...say that again, but slowly. That’s pretty disgusting.

Were you ever “the other man/woman”? How did it turn out? How do you feel about it today? No. I’d never want to be; I wouldn’t know how to deal with it if I ever found out I was one.

What do you think of open relationships? If your partner suggested it, what would you say? i dont care what other people do, but that is not for me. < Sums it up well.

Would you ever date out of your race? I’m open to it. I don’t see why I shouldn’t be.

Who were you with yesterday? Just family, but I was mostly by myself.

Have you ever had a reptile for a pet? Nope.

What time do you have to get up tomorrow? My work starts at 9 AM so I always have to be up by then, but because I like taking a shower and polishing the work I did the day before, I personally like to be ready anywhere between 8–8:30 AM.

Have you ever kissed anyone with a tattoo? I never have.

What kinds of alcohol do you like? I like cocktails; I like having a good, chill time with friends and I’m usually not in a hurry to get drunk, so cocktails are the perfect drinks for me for most situations. As for hard drinks, I usually go for tequila shots and whatever Bacardi is.

Did you have a swing set when you were a kid? We didn’t, but as a kid I regularly came over to my cousins’ place who did have a playground and they had a variety of swings that I loved riding.

Can you do the alphabet in sign language? Incompletely.

Have you ever been so hurt that you wanted to stop feeling completely? Of course.

State you most want to visit? Illinois, but only for Chicago.

What is a book that you really want to read? I’m not really eyeing any at the moment, but I’m currently reading Midnight Sun. Except by ‘currently’ I really mean reading a few pages or so once a week lol. I’ve always been terrible at reading books as a teenager/adult.

What brand was the last lotion that you used? I don’t remember anymore. I don’t use lotion often.

What color is your underwear? Green.

What was the last type of cookie that you ate? Sandwich cookies. They were Oreos.

If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be? In a happier place, mentally. I’d give an arm and a leg to be there rn.

What genre was the last song you listened to? R&B I think.

What sort of surveys catch your interest and which ones bore you? I like ones with random questions or those with themes that I can relate to, like college or film surveys. I can’t say I enjoy surveys that ask what kind of X you are and then just lists down traits that you’re asked to bold or not. Bolding surveys can also be kinda bleh, but I like putting my own twist on them and elaborating on each entry so that I don’t finish them too quickly.

What books do you usually enjoy reading and which do you not enjoy? I enjoy autobiographies. I don’t like the fantasy and epic genres, or anything that has too many fictional or supernatural elements.

What is something that you really want to try, whether it’s a hobby, food, etc.? Baking! I feel like it would be therapeutic for me, so it’s something I want to get into. It’d be awesome to master chocolate chip cookies.

What websites do you frequent most often? YouTube these days, for sure. I also use a lot of Google Suite for work.

The last person you found attractive — what did they look like? Big eyes, medium-length hair, bright smile.

If you could go back in time, would you prefer to go forward or backward? this question is so jacked LOL. "if you could go back, would you go foward?" go away. < Hahahaha true, but I’d go forward in time. I want to fast forward to feeling happy again, if that will even be the correct guess.

Post a link to the last video you watched online. Aw man, your timing made me a little sad. I’m currently watching the GMM episode that featured Kobe Bryant a few years ago.

Is there anything bothering you at the moment? You bet there is.

What color was the last shirt you wore? I’m wearing a black and white striped shirt right now, but the one I wore before this had a leopard print.

What sort of things do you like to post or look at on Tumblr? I just do surveys full-time now, man. I hopped off the fandom side of Tumblr 6-7 years ago and this has been my ~main blog since, if I had to call it anything.

What scent was the last candle you burned? It was just a plain candle that we had to light up because we had a blackout. I don’t really get my own candles to relax or whatever.

What type of people are you usually attracted to? I’m demi, so it will always differ. I don’t have a ‘type’ of person.

Do you collect anything? If so, what? Can’t say I do.

When you look to your left, what is the first thing you see? What about the right? I see my bed on the left, and the wall and the glare from my phone on the right.

What room are you currently in? What color are the walls/floor? I’m in my bedroom. Walls are white, floor is brown.

What color is the last blanket you used? Pink but it has polka dots of various colors. My light is currently turned off and it’s dark, though, so I don’t feel like reaching for my blanket just to list down its other colors.

What do you smell like right now? I think I just smell like person...I wasn’t around strong scents today.

If it was possible to celebrate a holiday everyday, which would you choose? That would get boring really fast, but idk...Christmas, I guess? It’d be nice to have big grand dinners everyday and to see regularly relatives I only see 1-2 times a year.

If you could compare yourself to a celebrity or character, who would it be? Mr. Peanutbutter from BoJack Horseman. Loyal, wacky, covers everything up with humor, very expressive when it comes to love.

Which male celebrities do you find attractive? Timothée Chalamet, Troye Sivan, Mark Ruffalo.

Which female celebrities do you find attractive? Kristen Stewart, Kate Winslet, Rosamund Pike, Claire Foy, Courteney Cox, Mila Kunis, Emma Stone.

If you could marry one of your favorite celebrities and have a happy relationship until the end of your days, who would it be? I’d go with Mark Ruffalo, heh

What song are you listening to at the moment? I have Good Mythical Morning on, not music.

What is currently on your desk? Just my headphones at the moment. I usually use my laptop on the desk too, but right now I prefer to be on the floor just because.

What brand is your computer? Apple.

What are the last things you ate and drank? For eat, I had sushi bake with nori sheets. For drink, I had water.

How often do you take naps and how long do they usually last? I take naps in the afternoon but only on weekends now, because work. How long they last always varies, depending on how hot it is in my room. Higher temperature = quicker, less satisfying naps.

Which season do you wish lasted all year? I definitely wish we got rain all year.

What is the last part of your body that itched? My back.

Is there anything that you should be doing right now? Nope. My day is over and I’m happy to take a survey or two tonight.

Is there anything you’re craving right now? Pad thai. I did ask my dad to make it again, so I should expect it any day soon.

How do you take your tea? I don’t drink tea.

#survey #surveys

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mirrix · 5 years

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Title: Percy Jackson and the Titan’s Curse

Author: Rick Riordan

Thoughts: I hit a wall after finishing this one so it may be a minute before I can continue on with the series (I’m borrowing the audiobooks from the library with Libby) and damn does that suck because soooo much happens! And now I have to waaaaait!!

Buuut, even though waiting sucks, this book at least gives you a lot to chew on. Especially about Artemis. Okay so on the one hand, I think it’s super cool of her to take girls in regardless of mortal, demigod, etc. That’s pretty baller. She’s also way more hands on then any of the gods. She obviously gives more of a damn about them as individuals than the others do. Which is cool. I also like that she presents herself as the average age of her hunters.

But on the other hand her “boys are icky” stance is pretty boring. Like, I agree boys are pretty icky but that doesn’t mean they’re worthless.

There’s also the no romantic love rule. Like, I get a lot of people see her as ace, and I have no desire to take that from them. I don’t necessarily prefer that interpretation of her, but I won’t deny it’s appeal to those who identify as ace, or that it’s a perfectly valid interpretation. My problem is she goes out of her way to make sure her hunters have very little contact with boys (because icky and they have romance cooties) but what the hell happens when some of her hunters turn out to be lesbians? They just booted? Harsh. The whole thing kind of reeks of purity culture what with everyone remaining as immortal “maidens” who can lose their immortality if they fall in love.

This is also really weird once more light is shed on Athena, one of the other “maiden” goddesses. Athena abso-fuckin-lutely has kids with people and does so without once losing her status as a “maiden”. What I’m saying is there;s no reason Artemis can’t be having kids with people (probably ladies given how much time she spends in all female company) and still retain her status as a “maiden”.

I realize that Riordan’s works become more LGBTQ+ inclusive as he goes on and learned more about the community, so this isn’t like a deal breaker or anything. It’s not exactly like the greek gods being problematic is a new or unique thing. If anything it makes too much sense that Artemis would over compensate in that regards. I’d be interested in meeting a former hunter that fell in love and had to leave. What’s their story?

I am a little annoyed that both of the new and interesting female characters get written out by the end of the book. Both Zoe and Thalia are interesting and well rounded characters in their own right and it’s a shame they’re out of the story after this. And DO NOT get me started on Bianca! She could have been such an interesting character but as soon as we start getting some development with her BAM! she’s gone. Bleh. I hate when female characters get killed off to provide motivation for male characters and I was really hoping these books would avoid that trope entirely.

Recommend: Yes, these books are still a blast, even if I feel like this one took a couple steps back.

Cover Image Source

#Percy Jackson #2020 Book Journal

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hereticpriest · 5 years

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Of Babes and Teds Part 2

Warnings: NSFW - oral sex and swearing

@lvngdvns

“My dude, you cannot be serious!”

“I am! See for yourself. She asked if we would go to the fair with her and Deacon.” Ted insisted, listening to Bill vaguely, though he gets distracted when he hears Dawn singing downstairs.

“Dude, why didn’t you make a move?! Dawn is a like, seriously bodacious babe!” Bill reprimands him, “What time are you guys going to the fair?”

“I don’t know, my dude. Dawn’s making breakfast. Soon, probably?” Ted muses, “You could just come over here whenever you’re ready. Dawn won’t mind.”

“Dude, you need to dress in your most excellent clothes. Bodacious babes need bodacious dudes.” Bill informs him, “I’ll be there in no time. Get going, dude!”

Ted hangs up, hopping in the shower after a brief interlude to listen to Dawn singing while she cooks.

Dawn brushes her teeth and her hair while waiting for things to heat up, but she doesn’t bother getting dressed yet. Her pjs are fine for now. She finishes making eggs, toast, bacon, hashbrowns and pancakes just as Ted leaves the bathroom after his shower and Deacon shoves past him on the stairs. He thumps down the stairs eagerly, sliding into the kitchen and beaming at the table laden in food.

“Woah! This is the biggest breakfast I’ve had in ages!” Deacon cheers, claiming a seat while Dawn sets the table with everything she’s made.

“Grab whatever you want. Make sure you leave enough for your brother. Do you want orange juice?” Dawn asks after checking the fridge. She pours herself some, and another glass for Deacon when he agrees, then leaves the carton on the table in case Ted wants some. Ted joins them a few minutes later, dressed in ripped jeans and a white shirt, topped with a black vest.

“Hey Dawn, Bill is gonna come over. That okay?” Ted asks, sitting down next to her and beaming at the amount of food she’s made, “Woah. There’s totally enough food. You cooked enough for an army.”

“No, Ted, I knew you were going to invite Bill over, and I was cooking for two young men and a teenage boy. You’ll all probably still be hungry after.” Dawn laughs, looking over him briefly then pretending she didn’t totally just check him out. It doesn’t take long for Bill to arrive, and he spreads his arms wide at the sight of all the food.

“Woah dude! This is awesome! Hey Dawn!” Bill circles the table, winking at Ted before grabbing Dawn’s hand and kissing her knuckles. Dawn giggles, rolling her eyes and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Hey Bill. You showboat.” Dawn teases, while Ted stares between them for a moment while trying to figure out how to one-up that. Bill tucks in, and Ted glances over at Dawn for a second before gently squeezing her knee. She smiles fondly at him, putting her hand on his and giving it a squeeze. She finishes eating first, pushing her chair back and leaning over to press a kiss to Ted’s temple.

“Alright boys, I’m going to go shower and get dressed. If you guys could all just eat and get ready, I would appreciate it.” Dawn hums, grinning when Deacon makes a ‘bleh’ sound over her kissing Ted. She leans in, pressing a loud smooch to his cheek while he shoves at her and laughs. At Bill’s protest, she blows him a kiss, then heads up the stairs. Bill kicks Ted under the table.

“Hey Deacon, dude, do you know if there are any wicked rides at the fair?” Bill asks to distract the teen. Ted mumbles something about forgetting something upstairs and follows Dawn. Seeing Dawn clearly looking for a towel, Ted steps up behind her and guides her to the right shelf.

“I figured you might not know where the towels were.”

“Thanks Ted.” Dawn smiles up at him after turning in the small space to face him. Ted hesitates for a second, but his intent is clear, and he is reassured as Dawn simply smiles up at him and waits. He leans down to her and catches her lips in a sweet kiss. Dawn sighs happily in response, dropping the towel and wrapping her arms around his neck. Ted skims his hands down her back to trace the curve as she arches into him, tentatively grasping her ass in his hands. Dawn moans softly into the kiss, running her fingers through his hair while he lifts her up and pins her against the closet door.

Dawn lets out a soft whine when Ted breaks the kiss to catch his breath, tightening her legs around his hips. He kisses her again, moaning against her when she slips her tongue into his mouth. She lays claim with the kiss, sliding her tongue against his and grasping at his back when he catches the rhythm. Ted seemed to pick things up quickly in practical application, and that held true for making out, apparently. However, he didn’t take control, even when she offered it to him. He only ground into her when she urged him on with the grip of her legs, and he only trailed kisses down her neck when she guided him down.

“If you hadn’t already showered, I’d offer you the chance to join me.” Dawn purrs in his ear, and he nearly headbutts her in his urgency to look her in the eyes.

“… I could totally use another shower. I didn’t uh… scrub. Well enough.” Ted mutters, his mouth dry.

“Gross.” Dawn teases, grinning, leaning in to kiss a trail along his jaw. “Did you wash behind your ears?”

“Uh… No?” Ted tries, and Dawn giggles, rubbing her cheek against his even though it makes his stubble bite into her skin even more than it did when he kissed her. Ted smiles when she giggles, peppering her face with kisses just to hear more. He doesn’t think about the fact that his brother and best friend are just downstairs and could most definitely hear them. He doesn’t think about the fact that it is going to be impossible to explain why he’s showered again. Dawn grasps at his back and guides him into another kiss, and he firms up his grip on her ass and carries her into the bathroom. He sets her on the counter, then grabs the towel she dropped and closes the door behind them.

“Hey, Ted?” Dawn asks quietly, biting her lower lip and kicking her feet innocently.

“Yeah babe?”

“Any chance you’ve got condoms laying around?” She asks, and Ted’s face goes white. Shit.

“Uhhhhhh…”

“Mmm, thought not. We’ll get some while we’re at the fair.” Dawn purrs, spreading her legs and eying him up and down, then nodding for him to come over to her. When he does, she smiles approvingly and steals a kiss.

“How about you get the shower running?” Dawn suggests, slipping off the counter and playing with the edge of her shirt and biting her lip suggestively. Ted swallows, nodding eagerly and moving to turn the shower on when she stops him.

“Take your shirt off first, baby. You’ll get soaked.” Dawn smiles fondly, giving his bum a firm tap, then turning away from him to undress. Ted does as he’s told, watching her pull her shirt over her head and toss it to the floor, and then following suit. He fumbles with the shower controls without looking away, mouth slightly ajar. Dawn kicks her pj shorts off, slides her thumbs into the straps of her underwear and delicately steps out of them, smiling when Ted groans audibly and she hears him mumble something to himself about ‘bodacious babes.’

Ted unbuttons his jeans as Dawn turns to face him, her abused lower lip caught between her teeth again. Her breasts are full and round, with small rosy nipples and a scar between them that was thin and short, but noticeable. She’s thin but not overly so, her hips wide and round and adorned with large star tattoos. Ted’s eyes go wide at the sight, taking several pauses to take in her body, trying not to stare at her trimmed pubic hair and pink pussy.

“You can’t shower in jeans, Ted.” Dawn reminds him, skimming her fingers over his belly as she shuffles past him and steps into the shower. She pulls the curtain shut, adjusts the heat, and ducks her head under the warm spray, listening to Ted shuffle around and mutter to himself. More about babes, and something about being better this time. She bit back a giggle, turning to face the showerhead, humming to herself as she listened to Ted kick off his pants and climb into the shower with her. When he touches her, it’s hesitant, but she moans and leans into it to encourage him. His hands skim up her sides, cupping her breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. She arches in his hands, pressing her ass back into his hips and feeling his dick against her.

“Ted, babe, please don’t stop touching me.” Dawn moans, dropping her head back on his shoulder while he presses kisses into her shoulder.

“I don’t plan on it, babe.” Ted murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, then pinching them gently to hear her squeak. Dawn takes his right hand in hers and skims it down her body, listening to his sharp intake of breath as she runs his fingers through her labia, and guides one into her. He follows her lead, gently feeling her out and enjoying the clench of her around him, until she pulls away. He watches her, a bit confused, as she drops to her knees and runs her tongue from the base to the tip of his cock. Ted lets out a low groan, hand shooting up to cover his mouth when he remembers that his brother and best friend are still downstairs.

Dawn sucks a lovebite into his inner thigh, stroking him slowly, then running her tongue over his balls, giving them a gentle suck. He ends up leaning against the shower wall, eyes locked on her while she licks her way to the tip of his dick, kisses the head, then opens her mouth and begins to swallow him down. Dawn can feel Ted shaking under her hands, pressed carefully to his thighs to stop him if he bucks into her mouth. From the look on his face, while he may have had sex before, it was likely quick and didn’t involve a blowjob beforehand. The idea that she’s his first in that department makes her hum, and Ted chokes, fingers tangling messily in her hair.

He cums quicker than he’d like to admit, but Dawn just licks her lips like that cat that got the cream as she stands. He catches his breath while Dawn shampoos her hair with his shampoo, and uses his bodywash. When she’s done, he kisses her hard, licking the taste of him from her mouth. He verifies that she’s done with her shower, helps her wring out her hair, then sets her on the edge of the tub carefully.

Despite having little to no experience in this, Ted catches on quickly, and Dawn has absolutely no problem telling him what she does and doesn’t like. His broad tongue and long fingers make up for an initial lack of technique, and he’s rather proud when Dawn begins to dig her fingers into his hair and guide him where she wants him. With two fingers curling into her at the perfect pace, and Ted’s tongue circling her clit, Dawn finds herself biting her lip to keep herself from screaming. Ted continues through her orgasm, notices the sudden flush of wetness but enjoying it, not recognizing until he hears Dawn panting that he’s made her cum. She shoves gently at his face to get him away from her oversensitive cunt, shaking as he pulls his fingers free, cleans them off, and pulls her into his lap. Dawn kisses his face clean, humming praises as she does, her arms around his neck.

“So good for me, Ted. You learn so fast. Wish you had a condom so bad, babe.” She purrs, and Ted beams at the praise, holding her tightly to him. He presses a soft kiss to her cheek, another to the corner of her mouth, and a third to her lips.

“We should get going, baby.” Dawn hums, “Bill and Deacon are definitely suspicious by now.”

“Oh. Yeah, bogus. I just wanna lay in bed with you now.” Ted pouts, and Dawn sighs happily at the sight, stealing another kiss.

“I’ll make the fair worth your while, Ted. I promise.”

Five minutes, a lot of hurried hair-drying, and redressed, Ted descends the stairs. He looks wide-eyed at Bill, who starts making ‘What the fuck happened?’ hand signals. Ted looks at Deacon, who is focused on shoving another pancake into his mouth, wrapped around bacon and an egg like a sandwich. Once sure he’d focused, Ted makes a couple of slightly lewd gestures, and Bill’s eyes grow wide.

Dawn follows a minute later wearing a cheerleader skirt from San Dimas High and a white t-shirt with a v-neckline that hangs low, but not too low to be appropriate. She’s wearing heart-shaped, rose-tinted sunglasses and Ted notices she’s stolen his jacket. Sublte, Dawn. Not that he hadn’t immediately snitched to his best friend the second he got downstairs.

“Hey Dawn, you ready to go? Little dude’s stuffed himself, so you’re going to save money at the fair on snacks!” Bill grins, and Dawn laughs.

“Bill, you know full well you’re all going to be hungry in an hour. You can’t fool me.” Dawn teases, skimming her fingers over Ted’s stomach as she passes him to harass Deacon.

“Get up, little dude, we’ve got places to be and people to see! I want to see how many tea-cup rides it takes to make you throw up!” She says, laughing at the eager cheers from Bill and Ted, and the groan it pulls from Deacon.

Luckily, they all get ready pretty quickly, and Dawn shoves her feet into her black converse, then leads them out to her Buick Grand National GNX.

“Car rules, boys, so listen up: Don’t throw up, don’t spill anything, and don’t leave garbage.” She insists, raising her brows until she gets a ‘Yes ma’am’ from all of them. She lets Ted fiddle with the radio, carefully pulling out of the driveway after verifying that Ted locked the front door.

“Can we get ice cream at the fair?” Deacon asks, and Dawn snorts.

“Told ya.” She hums to Bill, locking eyes with him in the rearview.

#Bill and Ted's excellent adventure #bill s preston esquire #Ted Theodore Logan #Ted Logan/OC #Ted Logan #Ted Logan/Original Character

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baldysims · 6 years

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Strange Legacy 3.2

“Hey bro, how was college? Still have all your skills maxed?”

“Oh, Di, it was amazing! You wouldn’t believ--”

“Hang on, I just realized it’s the middle of the day and I somehow failed to get in my coffin and am about to die from sunlight exposure yet again. Hold that thought.”

“But--!”

“We’ll talk about skilling laterrrrrrr! Hissssssss!”

Third generation heir Fornax has returned to the legacy lot and been reunited with his parents and older-but-perpetually-teenaged sister, Diadem. The main household got played a bit while the rest of the kids were at college so I could troubleshoot the whole teen vampire thing with fewer distractions.

It turns out teen vamps are hard, but not that bad when you build them a garage full of snapdragons and give them a fancy sports car to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays on their way to and from school... at least when certain other people aren’t hogging the coffin. *coughCASSIEcough*

Yep, Cassie’s back home too. Why? Well, I wanted a platinum grilled cheese grave for the lot, but I also really didn’t feel like making another Sim eat 200 sandwiches. Sue me.

It’ll be nice to have an extra set of hands around to raise generation 4, though, especially since I’m sure I’ll be pretty distracted a lot of the time with keeping Di alive... in a manner of speaking.

Generation 4 will be here very soon, since Fornax took less than a day to fulfill his lifelong (or at least last-two-years-of-college-long) dream of becoming a rock star. Not bad for a former nerd who never even made out with a girl until after he’d already graduated.

Fornax’s wedding to Danni, the sexy heroic firefighter of his dreams, was thoughtfully held at night so that all members of the Strange family could attend, both living and dead.

Unfortunately this included some family members who probably shouldn’t have been invited, like Uncle Alpheratz.

Ever a man of class, he couldn’t even wait until the reception was over to start trash talking the groom. It’s extra gross when you realize that the woman he’s talking to is his daughter Cursa, who you might remember along with her sister Bellatrix as the tearful, brokenhearted children from the last family wedding Alpheratz ruined.

What have Bells and Cursa been up to since we saw them last, anyway?

Well, Bellatrix married the love of her life, Tybalt Capulet, and became a business tycoon in the family company. She’s angling to get her son, Lucius, named the heir to the Capulet fortune, but I doubt that’ll happen given how matriarchal the Capulets are. Still, she tries. I guess you can take the girl out of the patriarchy, but you can’t take the patriarchy out of the girl.

Cursa moved into Capulet Manor alongside her sister, and immediately began a scandalous May-December romance with Tybalt’s grandfather, Consort. No one in the family has told Betelgeuse about their affair, and for good reason. Bete was raised to believe every Sim in the family must abide by the Strict Family Values and True Love handicaps, regardless of whether they were raised in the main household or not. The knowledge would only hurt him, and clearly, he’s happy in his blissful ignorance.

Bete also doesn’t know that his youngest daughter, Electra, is also keeping certain aspects of her life as a spare a secret from him.

Sure, she locked down a True Love in her college years and married him as soon as humanly possible, just like her parents always dreamed, but given that she and Freddy are a couple of video game-obsessed slackers who can barely put down the handhelds to feed themselves, much less raise a child, I decided to let them embrace the wonders of modern birth control.

And so it seems that Betelgeuse and Angeline’s only grandchildren will be through Fornax and Danni. Speaking of whom, let’s get back to their wedding; I think we’ve gone on more than enough spare-related tangents for one chapter.

Danni Strange, former last name unknown, is a knowledge Sim and former firefighter who is truly, madly, deeply in love with her dork of a husband. She saved his life back in college and the sparks, so to speak, were instant.

Danni’s very well liked by the rest of the Stranges. Cassie used to be the sole holdout, but now that Danni is officially part of the family, she seems to have come around.

It’s shaping up to be a very wholesome generation.

Danni got pregnant right away, and spent the majority of her pregnancy working on maximizing all her skills. She’ll need them, because I want to get the collection point for having all the career rewards this generation.

Danni was game, and dedicated herself so thoroughly to this task that she even gave birth with her skilling hat on.

Little Gomeisa here turned out to be a girl, which gave Betelgeuse a little anxiety. He himself took four tries to have a boy with his wife Angeline, and they ended up cutting it pretty close age-wise. He doesn’t want that stress for his own son, so he urges his son to try for more grandchildren as soon as possible.

Fortunately, that’s not a problem for Fornax and Danni. Their chemistry is through the roof and they basically go at it like rabbits constantly, so it wasn’t long before Danni gave birth to another girl, Hamal.

This did not relieve Betelgeuse’s concerns.

“Son, you realize that only boys can inherit the legacy heirship, right? You have to have at least one, and really, two is best.”

“You think I don’t know that, dad?”

“Of course not, Fornax, but I want to talk you through some of the implications. The only way it’s mathematically possible for you to have an heir and a spare is to have at least two more children.”

“So? That’s fine. I mean, sure, I’m not a Family Sim like you or grandpa, but I’m permaplat and Danni’s definitely up for it.“

“The problem, son, is that there are already seven people in this house. Di can’t move out until your mother and I die, which we’re nowhere close to, and Cassie can’t leave or we lose the grilled cheese grave. Essentially, you’ve only got one more chance to get a boy... and I hope you’ll agree that we should maximize it.”

That’s right, it’s cheesecake time! Betelgeuse himself was a cheesecake twin, so of course he’s aware of this classic legacy strategy.

I actually hate having twins, especially during the toddler years, but Betelgeuse is right -- it only makes sense to double the chance of getting an heir before it’s too late.

And so Danni went through a third, much more difficult pregnancy, while the rest of the household worked as hard as they could on various miscellaneous legacy milestones.

Cassie spent a lot of time tediously job-hopping for various career rewards, and also painted the next generation of Strange family portraits. She herself won’t have an official portrait as a spare, but I thought it would be nice to let her memorialize herself for posterity with a grilled cheese masterpiece.

Betelgeuse finished his memoirs, as demanded by the Storyteller handicap.

He also spent some genie wishes bulking up the family fortune. The Stranges don’t really need money for money’s sake, since they’re already swimming in filthy lucre, but in order to get maximum points they'll need $3,000,000 by generation nine, so every simoleon counts.

Diadem earned all of her point-based scholarships as well as an impossible want point by maximizing her skills. Now that she’s free most nights, she spends a lot of time acting as her nieces’ night nanny.

“Glowing skill milk for Gomeisa! Hissssssssss!“

Unfortunately, I realized too late that I made a big mistake by maximizing Di’s skills as quickly as I did. She’s knowledge, so now that she doesn’t have anything left to learn, the only real big-ticket wants she can satisfy are being scared by ghosts... and ours aren’t exactly cooperative.

“Grandma, scare me! Bleh!”

Grandma Sharon would never, Di. She’s too nice. Sorry. You’ll have to wait for Grandpa Zaniah... and for some reason the only time he ever came out to haunt was to scare your mother during her last pregnancy. Jerk.

Di also tends to get lured by the siren call of the career reward collection, which I foolishly stored out of sight in the backyard. Pretty much every morning I lose track of her until I realize from her red icon that she’s been roasting in the sun.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to live on the edge! It’s what teenagers do! And I’ve been a teenager for decades now.”

Yeah, fair enough.

Finally, the twins come along... and it’s two more statistically improbable girls, Ilkil and Jishui. I was so upset by this revelation that I completely failed to take a decent birth photo. I mean... ugh. The house is as full as full gets, but no one can really go anywhere until either the girls grow up and go to college, or I decide to kill Betelgeuse or Angeline. I really don’t want to have to deal with annoying non-Old Age ghosts this early in the legacy... so that means I’m stuck raising four girls while Fornax and Danni’s adult lifespans get shorter and shorter, unable to be lengthened even by Elixir of Life due to yet more legacy handicaps.

That’s right, little spare, grow up! Grow up in your pajamas with no party and no cake. With all 4+ of you little monsters running around, it’s not like birthdays are going to be anything special around here.

It goes without saying that the whole house is basically living off of cheesecake right now. Betelgeuse made a lot. Just in case.

The sole exception to cheesecake for dinner is when the headmaster comes over for lobster, but even then, Angeline objects.

“Fornax, you don’t need to go to such lengths. Just let me fix BJ a few drinks! We go way back, you know.”

I was pretty sure that was the booze talking, but then this happened:

Well, I’ll be damned! I guess booze really does beat out a home cooked meal. I’ll keep that in mind for my next dinner party.

“Aunt Di, why do me and Hamal have to go to private school and study so hard just to start college early? That sounds boring.”

“Gogo, I’m going to lay some truth on you. Private school is the best thing in life. I mean that, literally. The only joy I get in life anymore is from the occasional report card that barely keeps me out of aspiration failure. Hissssssss!”

Yeah, I think Diadem might be depressed.

To cheer her up, I sent her on a date -- the good, expensive kind, not the Aunt Electra “Just take my $25 so I can get a memory token” kind. The matchmaker conjured up Adam, a store clerk who’s been selling the Stranges clothing and groceries since the dawn of the legacy.

Diadem couldn’t get enough of him. He seemed genuinely fascinated by her stories of being abducted by aliens back before getting vamped, and for once in her life since maximizing her skills, Di felt... passion.

Of course, love in a knowledge Sim vampire tends to express itself in a rather, um, aggressive way, and, well... I just couldn’t resist the aspiration bonus.

Sorry, Adam. I'll try not to burn you to a crisp when the Stranges visit community lots during the day from now on.

After claiming him as a creature of the night, Di claimed her first kiss, just as the sun came up. Away with you into your coffins! Bleh!

Oh, Angeline. Booze for dinner with the headmaster, and now booze first thing in the morning? I get that you picked up certain habits from your mother in law, but did you have to pull Fornax in on the day drinking? He’s been so functional up til now!

“I resent that. I day drink purely out of my own free will, just like you would if you knew you’d be changing diapers until retirement age.”

Sigh... fair enough.

In other news, Cassie continues to pursue various careers in search of all 20+ career rewards. Most of the time I just nab them from the newspaper so she automatically grabs them, but sometimes I let her go all the way to the top.

Something about the sweet mad scientist robot hand just seems right for her, you know?

Anyway, we’re about halfway there as far as the career rewards go. I decided I was sick of them cluttering up my view of the lawn (the Stranges are trashy for sure, but like, rich trashy, not furniture-on-the-lawn trashy), not to mention almost killing Di every morning, so I resolved to spruce the place up with a mausoleum/career reward storage facility. And a greenhouse, because hey, why not go for that extra Seasons point?

We already have most of the fish thanks to Angeline, which is the hard part, so really all that’s left is the wishing well and a few juices. Might as well, right?

“Grandma, why can’t you play red hands with me?”

“Well, Hamal, you’ve got to be a good girl and study for when you become a teenager. And I’ve got to spend all day fishing so that I can get red and pass out on the lawn over and over!”

And so she did! Here, have an ugly photo of the upstairs hall proving that Angeline nabbed us every kind of fish.

And not a moment too soon, because as soon as the first leaves began to show on the crops in the greenhouse, Angeline received a ghostly final visitor.

R.I.P. Angeline Strange, former cute teen downtownie, wife and mother of four, Sim City General Chief of Staff and lifelong alcoholic. You were many things, but most of all fun to play, and I’ll miss you.

Poor Bete. Family Sims take the death of a spouse extra hard, so I was expecting this, but it’s still sad. Especially when his morbid vampire daughter discusses it so bluntly over a game of pool that very night.

I don’t mean to imply that Di didn’t care about her mother’s death. She did, of course! She was probably even closer to Angeline than Betelgeuse was. But Knowledge Sims show it in a different way.

And so Angeline was laid to rest in the upper floor of the mausoleum, where Sharon was already haunting in welcome. Hopefully she’ll have some company soon.

Life went on for the rest of the family, with Betelgeuse still hellbent on getting a grandson out of Danni and Fornax.

Yeah, yeah, she already promised to have more kids once you’re dead, Bete! Give it a (final) rest already!

“Aunt Cassie, do I have to die to get a brother too?”

“No, Gogo, of course not. You’ll just go to college, that’s all. We’re not killing anyone on purpose in this legacy until at least generation 7.”

I’m sure Gomeisa was very comforted to hear that.

In protest, she rolled Romance on her teen birthday, but just like Cassie last generation, I don’t think it suits her.

She is ridiculously uninterested in all the men she meets.

She’d much rather hang out with her younger sisters, especially Hamal, who’s about to join her in teenhood.

Now, I’m not a total monster, of course I let Gomeisa have a first kiss before I sent her off to college. The last thing I want is to force Fornax’s children to relive his grisly fate as an inexperienced child in college. Plus the wishing well we got from joining the garden club makes it so easy, how could I not?

Hmm, Loren Teens, not bad, not bad. Technically he’s part of yet another matriarchal Maxis family, the Tricous, but the Tricou matriarchs are all dead and Loren is ultimately just a descendant of one of the men who married in, so I don’t think Betelgeuse would necessarily object.

Especially since it’s finally his deathday.

R.I.P. Betelgeuse Strange. You did everything you could to continue your father’s legacy, even when you probably shouldn’t have, but I respect the effort. I hope you have fun whaling on Alpheratz in the afterlife.

With Betelgeuse finally dead and gone, Fornax and Danni were free to try for babies #5 and #6. Yes, I’m doubling up again, and if I get two more girls, I’m going to scream. I’m not even sure Danni will be young enough to carry another pregnancy if that happens. But hey, at least this picture of them cuddling under the stars is cute. I like to think they’re planning their babies’ names when they do this, since everyone in the family is named after either a star or a constellation.

Just like big sis Gomeisa, Hamal rolled Romance on her birthday and summoned a Tricou kid, this time Loren’s brother Tiave, from the wishing well for her first kiss. The girls in this family really seem to enjoy flirting with matriarchy.

Right after Hamal hit him and quit him, Zaniah popped out to scare her. I don’t think the old hypocrite approves of his great-granddaughters rolling Romance or dating Tricous.

With Gomeisa and Hamal’s first kisses obtained and generation two finally laid to rest, Diadem was able to nab her last scholarship and get shipped off to college with her nieces. I’m sure they’ll have a blast there while I head back to the home lot and pray to Wright for an heir who STILL hasn’t been born and (hopefully) play him all the way to teendom and young adulthood. Sigh.

Legacy Scoring:

Legacy: 3 Money: 2 Family friends: 38x.25 = 9.25 Impossible wants: 9 (Alph 20L, Sharon 30F, Zaniah 7Sk, Angeline 7Sk, Fornax 7Sk, Cassiopeia 200S, Electra 50FD, Diadem 7Sk) Platinum graves: 4 (Family, Popularity, Fortune) Ghosts: 1 (Old Age) Business: 4 Seasons: 2 Free Time: 4.5 (Games: Zaniah, Betelgeuse, Alpheratz, Electra, Fornax, Cassiopeia, Angeline) Collections: 1 (25 Elixirs) Master: 2 (Social Bunnies Need Love Too, Child Prodigy - Fornax, ) Handicaps: 0 Overflow: Penalties: -1 (bills) Total: 38.85

#sims 2 #sims 2 legacy #strange legacy #strange legacy generation 2 #strange legacy generation 3 #strange legacy generation 4

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emmelfish · 6 years

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Hardimos, what the hell are you doing here, hellhound?

Hardimos: There’s gonna be like five small kids here in a matter of days, combine that with the good foliage here and you got yourself a werewolf pardy.

Urgh – aside from the fact that this werewolf is genuinely following the Brokes around Pleasantview all the way to the Dreamers’ residence (really not that far), Dirk is doing well in Science, and somebody may have left Darren a dream date bouquet.

Welcome to a series I like to call ‘Darren Standing Stiffly At Things’. Exhibition coming soon at the Broke Dreamers Art Gallery... whenever they can afford to buy an art gallery.

Motionless when it’s great news, or...

... terrible news. Wow, so that scuppers the idea of a nice wedding at a community lot then huh. I guess we could take this ragtag group of the few people who ‘like him enough’ on... some kind of outing?

To the Pleasantview Fishing Pond!

Even vampires like Jennail Tricou like to get in some late-night fishing.

Jennail: I do a bleh and scare all the fish out of the pond.

You do indeed, Jen!

Jennail: It’s not like I even need to eat them, it’s just the satis –

Hold it. This isn’t about you Tricou, you’ll get your turn. Onto Daz’s Dream Outing:

Oh John Burb. In earning that silver gardening badge with all your Nature simming you totally neglected fishing, and are legitimately terrible at it.

John: This’ll never do when I’m trying to impress my wife, dog, cat and three kids on our camping trip to Three Lakes.

I never okayed that, John. Taking Jennifer ‘High Heels’ Burb and a feline animal that can’t live without her Anthropologie pillows camping is tantamount to spousal abuse and animal cruelty.

I do love taking sims to community lots just to see who the hell rocks up. As well as Dreamer’s gang of ‘friends’, we ran into none other than my boy Viddy Curious, Everyone’s Favorite Grandma Isabella Monty...

... and motherfreaking John Mole of all people!

John Mole: I’m gathering intel on everybody at this pond.

And doing an excellent job of being inconspicuous you are, John Mole. You just look so very, very normal.

Darren: I’m gonna hang this on my wall and call it art.

Dirk: Could you please make sure you cover it in formaldehyde and vacuum seal it first?

Cowboy Peter Ottomas, you’re everywhere!

Peter: Ah like fishin’! And after witnessing that proposal in TGI Fri – uh in Oresha Family Dining, wanna see how things go with these crazy kids.

Well, for that you’d have to be back at the Dreamer residence where Darren unceremoniously left his fiancée. And on that note...

🎵 Celebrate good times, come on!

Dirk: *retches* Does this nightmare EVER END.

Not when there’s so much dancing to be done! Also, are you retching because of the parental public display of affection? Or is it because Natasha Una has headbutted you in the chest and winded you.

Natasha: IT’S HOW I MAKE FRIENDS.

It’s sweet really. Darren’s little group of friends have made quite the little party for him. But when, pray tell, have you ever seen a group of real-life humans randomly dance around a makeshift art studio without the involvement of drugs or alcohol?

Even Natasha Una is joining the dance-off... awkward as she looks about that.

I knew it! There’s the culprit. Clearly they’ve all been at the Simslice Beer. Enjoy savoring that cold one while you can, Darren, because –

– your new family have arrived, more specifically, The Twins from Hades (dang, now I can’t call Loki and Circe’s kids that).

Skip Jr: The road is a most adrenaline-inducing place to sing myself a nursery rhyme.

Somebody had the patience to teach you the whole thing without punting you over the Pleasantview bridge, SJ? I’m amazed.

Susie: I’m so excited! And I just can’t hide it! I’m about to lose control –

PLEASE DON’T lose control, with a personality like yours this building will be on fire within seconds.

BRANDI!!!

Brandi: What? It’s just one beer, besides, the yeast is good for the babies.

On what planet – hey, if it was Guinness you might have a point when it comes to iron and nutritional value and whatnot but...

... look what it’s doing to your poor betrothed, he’s drinking it through his fucking eye for pity’s sake.

Dirk’s a braver man than most, actively engaging these nightmare children in play with zero prompting. Hey I wonder if somewhere Skip Broke’s ghost is laughing its translucent ass off because his parting gift to the family was a pair of literal demons in embryo form.

All you Dirk stans out there, I hear your hearts fluttering at this display of adorable. Don’t worry, while I don’t know whether he’ll end up with Lilith or some complete random, he will be blessed with sprogs. We gotta spread those awesome Dreamer genes far and wide.

Fair play Beau, you got the glow! Spiky haired music man is impressed! Max enthusiasm as a child, where on earth does he go from here?

Beau: Rockstardom!

Steady on, let’s just see how things go. You’re gonna grow into a Pleasure sim so it’s either the Slacker career for you or... dates. Millions of dates. Ever feel like the Pleasure aspiration got massively sidelined when it came to LTWs? Why not throw the Gamer or Entertainment career in there or something? ‘Hey you can reach the top of this lazy career or, essentially be a watered down Romance sim. THAT’S WHAT YOU GET for wanting to play on the couch and take bubblebaths.’

Is Skip Jr. laughing at Daz’s newly hairy legs because I done a overlay? You’ll want your own someday, sunshine. Meanwhile I have a huffing pregnant Brandi jumping rope somewhere in the background because during her last pregnancy she ate when she wasn’t hungry (probably because she was carrying insatiable hellspawn) and her fat token has only just kicked in. I like my sims curvy, but girl rolled the want, gotta give girl what she wants!

(I hope to heavens Marla Biggs, Monica Bratford or Jane Stacks never roll that want. I’ll just ignore them if they do.)

The father and son that carpool together, get promoted together! Dirk’s getting that Medicine career LTW on track nice and early, and Darren’s paintings take too bloody long to paint so he went straight into the Art career. Did I ever tell you he rolled a want to ‘Quit Job’ before his first day?! I nearly falcon punched the computer screen.

And the next day, we get Dirkles promoted again because teenage careers are easy as crap to reach the top of. There ya go Dirk, at least now you get another scholarship, moneylover!

Dirk: I’m just happy to be helping people.

Stop being so perfect.

It’s another Veronaville drive-by! Living for Beau’s casual glance while taking out the trash like a boss.

Here you get a little peep at what I’ve done with my Puck. The version I’m opting for is a whiny ‘I JUST WANT TO BE NORMAL’ fairy teen who covers up all traces of his supernatural loveliness, much to his parents’ chagrin. I picture his little sis as the total opposite, rocking up to school with her wings and ears all out giving no shits whatsoever.

What the deuce?! Beau, do you have some kind of sonar for Veronaville residents? It’s like Lucy being Pied Piper to Viper Canyon boys all over again.

Rain concerns Hal. Heck, life concerns Hal. And it’d concern you if you had to live under the same roof as Albany Capp.

What in the world – Hal THIS ISN’T YOUR HOUSE, have some dignity!

Hal: 🎵Clean up clean up Everybody everywhere Clean up clean up Everybody do your share

Whawhawha – wait – DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! I had that all set up for the long-awaited backyard wedding, Puck what are you doing!?

Puck: Takin’ out the trash, V-Ville style!

THE CAKE HADN’T EVEN GONE BAD PUCK, GTF home.

Puck: I don’t want to go home, Hermia and Mercutio will make me lie between them while they do weird stuff to each other again.

I care not. It’s good character-building for the future story I have in mind for you.

Darren looks so stoked about being sick with the flu. Oh no wait! He got promoted again in one of the easiest careers in christendom. Hahaha, oh Ophelia. ‘Things have been pretty hectic for me’ – like two babies, a wedding and another two babies in a matter of days hectic? Or Johnny bringing you the soda with the caffeine instead of the decaf like you asked hectic. I love your old soul lady, but also, go hang with your age appropriate pals.

Darren taking the not-standing-up advice pretty literally there while surrounded by gaming Veronavillians. Well, at least they’re doing something relatively normal right now.

You see what stupidity Darren’s sickness has brought? Brandi’s now having to make Grandma’s comfort soup in her wedding finery, with Beau providing the soundtrack.

‘Well at least you didn’t rent yours at a store called It’s Not Too Late!’

Darren: So in my Nature hobby explorations, I’ve really been getting into fish lately as well as leafs –

Brandi: Darren, I love you, but if you don’t hurry up and finish that soup so we can get married without you technicolor yawning everywhere and sneezing on the cake I’m gonna go full Hormonal Bridezilla.

Next time, I promise, the knot will be tied, the toddlers will age, and maybe, just maybe, the Broke-Dreamer twins will drop. Ciao for now!

#emmelfishuberhood

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skipzujinskip · 4 years

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goals for july 2020

In order for me to be on a roll, and get usual indecisive and messy ass together. I am gonna just set some goals and try to be a better person than I was yesterday. Aye it’s never too late to start a new beginning and its never too late to start on these goals and work hard for the results. In a perfect time to occupy myself in a lot of things and keep myself busy due to the COVID-19 situation, it’s time to be properly committed.

JULY 2020 GOALS

Get my STUDYING ON A ROLL

NO MORE LEAVING SHIT LAST MINUTE!!!!! Being a Fashion Marketing Uni student is NO FUN AND GAMES! 😭There is a whole lotta madness and elements to it all and let me just say, I WAS NOT PREPARED THIS YEAR TO EXPECT ALL OF THIS. So far I am lucky this trimester after the first set of assignment, the weight of all the assignments are a lot lighter since the first of assignments were kinda hectic but you know, you gotta channel that inner phoenix rising from the fire. The current set of assignments are more group-based and more creative and fun:

Fashion Blog - The most creative yet challenging assignment for the Fashion Influencers class. I am still yet to decide what platform to really but this blog through, we already have a name though 🤪, ‘CrazySweetSavage’. I still need to decide what to post and what kind of direction I am heading with the blog. I just believe this fashion blog can be more than just an assignment for me, it can be something I can really air out my creativity without feeling any pressure. Instagram is great but I feel so iffy for some reason and I don’t know why. Maybe with this fashion blog it can get me outta my comfort zone and I can really gain more confidence in showing off my creativity cause I am still timid about it I guess?! 🤨

Marketing Plan - Aye, we just finished the first assignment for the Marketing class. I am yet to expect what there is to this but WE WILL BE ON A ROLL FOR THIS ASSIGNMENT. I swear on my knees I will slay it. 😊

Group Projects - The last two classes which are Critical Survey and Business Strategy and Design Thinking are both group efforts. I am happy to work with two of my closest friends in uni for both assignments but I am questioning if I am making enough effort 😔. In both assignments, we are exploring the topic of size inclusiveness and innovations we can come up with to meet problems of the topic.

Hopefully I CAN ALSO GET MY NOTES DONE! 🤬I have been slacking off it so we better get a move on. I got my whiteboard so I can organise what days and the time to do it all. Even with the second lockdown in Melbourne, I got less shifts at work and there is NO EXCUSE not to do it all. 😤

Getting my BODY ON A ROLL

I have been slacking off of Chloe Ting’s workouts after a while... Well 2 weeks and a half to be exact 😳! Ever since I lost my last pair of contact lenses I have not been able to do my workouts. I know, I know!! EXCUSES, EXCUSES. Really, I cannot workout when I am blind and I rely my workouts on my flatscreen with Chloe Ting on there. I should memorise the workouts after a while of doing them but I have a pint sized brain and memory 🙈.

Along with the absence of working out, my eating habits have become worse. It became Maccas, HSPs and a whole lotta pure junk. I also HAVEN’T BEEN DRINKING THAT MUCH WATER, which is UNBELIEVABLE 😑. Back then, I was eating good, I needed at least some veggies every meal along with a protein, and on mornings I would enjoy a nice warm sweet bowl of oatmeal, honey and sliced bananas 😔.

Here are the fitness/body/lifestyle(?) goals I need to keep up with in order to achieve my body goals before this year ends:

WORKING OUT - I am giving my self an hour a day or at least three days a week depending how intense the workouts I follow by Chloe Ting are. I trust Chloe Ting cause it seems like I can actually see results since other people has done them. I had seen a difference til those tragic last 2 weeks happened 😤.

EATING HEALTHY - I need to go back to my diet of having protein with veggies and portion off some carbs. I also need to aim for a least a day or 2 for cheat meals. 😩MY HABITS WERE TERRIBLE THOSE 2 WEEKS. Also, I am going to need a list of fruits and other stuff to satisfy my deadly sweet tooth 😁. I also need to get my water consumption ON A ROLL. 2L a day, let’s get that bladder moving per usual.

I need to also remember that - IT IS NOT A RACE, IT IS A MARATHON 😉!! Nothing comes overnight and that I need to earn it just like what I did with my job at work.

Have my room/home-life ON A ROLL

I live in a pigsty 😕... I come home to mess and shit all around my room and it is seriously and unbearable. Happy home = happy mood. I don’t know how I can get my lazy ass to get up and clean around. However with all this goal setting, hopefully I can pick myself up and get to it. Even after cleaning, I NEED TO MAINTAIN HOW NEAT IT IS 😩!! Not to worry, I just gotta channel my inner Monica Gellar and we will get there.

The To-Do list for my room:

Re-do closet: I have a lot of clothes that are just lying there and have not been worn once this year and yet I still keep buying and buying 🤡! I might create a sack of of unwanted clothes and ship it off my relatives to the Philippines or to a charity store. Even with my retail job, hopefully I can rearrange my closet nicely.

Clean up my desk: Arguably the easily messiest part of my room. I am not really satisfied with my desk and every time I clean it, I still feel just BLEH about it. I might revamp it and just order some desk decor so hopefully that is better.

Find some storage for OLD UNNECESSARY SHIT: They may be unnecessary but these things can at least help someone or just be put away or burnt. I have no idea. I got old school books under my bed and in my closet and that shit needs to go!!

As I said before with LOCKDOWN 2.0 being around, there are no excuses not to clean! 👺

WORK & MONEY ON A ROLL (🤔)

I don’t know LOL 😂!! Like I said before, I don’t have much shifts due to the current situation. Therefore, I see less $$$ going into my account. However, once again, MY LAZY ASS needs to apply for youth allowance. The whole application takes ages and I understand! Ever since I have gotten this new Macbook AKA my beautiful Ramona, I have became so broke like I NEED TO GET THIS stuff outta the way.

The priorities right now:

GET THAT DAMN APPLICATION DONE.

However I need to check if the place is still open cause the documentation that I need to supply, I cannot provide proof for some reason so I gotta get there myself. 😫THE STRUGGLES ARGHHHHH!!

Me needs to be ON A ROLL. period. 🤭

In order to get myself on a roll, thus this far, the goal setting and this blog will hopefully put me on a right track. I have been doing really shitty things to cope with it all, I don’t wanna go in depth cause I am gonna get all these things coming on to me like:

“WTF DON’T DO THAT”

“THAT IS STUPID”

“WOW SO DRAMATIC, IT ISN’T THAT DEEP”

Honestly, my mental health has been all over the place this year. I mean last year was when I was on my lowest of all lows. With so many things arriving to me, it gets too much sometimes. I mean, I would have never expected the things that happened this year to occur. Was I prepared for this new chapter of life? Absolutely not!! I have gotten new friends, a new job and new perspective in life. Life is a complete 180 compared to the messy year previously. 2019 was NO JOKE. I am grateful for 2020 and the new blessings I was offered.

Somehow I feel like I have gotten it all in this life right now and it seems like I got myself together. That is not really the case though 🧐. Just like that song that Britney Spears sang, “Lucky”:

“If there is nothing, missing in my life then why do these tears come at night?...”

It’s obvious that I am not satisfied just yet. I still have a lot to go. There are so many things I need to work on and that is on my self esteem, my confidence and really trusting myself and being able to forgive myself from past experiences. Most of these are due to because I do not have a significant other or nobody “hitting me up”. I know, why the fuck do I honestly need someone to satisfy myself? I just feel the pressure of being that 19 year old that has not really fell in love with anyone yet. I mean my lucky 13-15 year old self had experienced what it was like to fall in love for the first time. In all seriousness, being in love in your early teens is way different to falling in love in your late teens to young adult ages. In that late teens to young adult stage - love is strived for a long term. Maybe I strive for a longterm relationship and that is why I am very careful with who I fall for and let in.

Nowadays love has no limits in terms of everything for me. Let it be a guy or a girl. Maybe I am not in a relationship yet because I am not ready for it and I just need time to really focus on myself and really heal whatever is hurting. I have all these amazing opportunities that the universe has provided me, maybe love is not what I need right now and I need to understand that. The thought of not having anyone hitting me up or not being in a relationship has really made me insecure. I always thought I was either too fat, too ugly or too “out there”. At the end of the day, that person would love me for who I am and the way I am, that person would not want me to change a damn thing about myself. It’s all a matter of just waiting. The universe is really taking its time for the person that will soon reach out to me and who I will reach out for.

I often put myself down because of this but at the end of day, this is my life and that I cannot keep putting myself down. I need to be more kinder to myself and really give myself credit. I am progressing myself through just accepting the past for what it is and really becoming a person that i’ve always wanted to be. I want to be someone that is caring, someone you can rely on, that is there for a fun time. I am reaching the path of wanting to become someone that is passionate and committed for what they wanna do for the future and really pave a way for people. I am so much different from the past but there are still things I cannot accept but I will get there hopefully.

I also need to trust the universe and its magic. However, those pick-a-card readings and horoscope readings have given me more of an understanding why I am feeling this way and to understand myself better. So to simplify, patience and trust is what I need to build on and equip and just believing in myself and what the universe has to offer. I believe the universe is crafting something for me that impactful and hopefully just beautiful.

Basically I need to work on:

Being more kinder to myself

Being more patient with myself and the universe

Believing and trusting the universe and what it is doing

Forgive yourself from past mistakes

Be grateful what 2020 has given you.

I also need to work on stuff that will make me less lonely when I have those days or those moments. I feel like my worst enemy when I am by myself. So I need think of ways that will uplift and brighten me up and can improve in taking care of myself better.

Watching more anime - Let’s try and get through Sailor Moon and all of those Netflix animes and other people’s recommendations 🤩🤩🤩

Being committed to my daily and night skin routine - Just because I feel depressed or sad does not mean I cannot do pamper up!! GOD DAMN ZU! 🤨Since we are not able to go to the city which where I get all my skincare goodies from, we are going to need to research and choose wisely products that are accessible around me and MAYBE find something online. I don’t trust online stuff but whatever.

It’s gonna take a lot of time and there is a lot of things on my plate clearly. All of these goals will hopefully get me on a roll to a more HAPPY, POSITIVE AND BRIGHT direction in life. I always have to remember to be grateful for the blessings that have been provided for me and to really work hard for more blessings. I never deserved what I have, I always had to earn through working hard for what I always want in this life that is the way of the knight.

This is the knight signing off, heading to getting myself and my “all over the place” ass on a roll ✌️!!

- Zujin De Torres

#2020 #blog #goals #july

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dishonoredrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, TARYN! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE MOON with the faceclaim of FRIDA GUSTAVSSON. In spite of a few understandable bumps in the road, you really blew me away with Maiden! The Moon is a very understated character, to me, in that their subtleties and smaller notes are what really make them interesting. You took them in a direction I wasn’t expecting, but I enjoyed the ride nevertheless -- I also enjoyed the ups-and-downs of the plots quite a lot, and how you tied everything together with a nice little bow in regards to her interest in botany and the past which she is still trying to uncover. Altogether, this was a delight to read, and I can’t wait for Maiden to grace the dash!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC NAME: Taryn PRONOUNS: She/her AGE: 21+ TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST & currently I’m stuck at home and rarely allowed to leave the house because I’m immunocompromised… bleh. In a week or so I’ll be considered okay to rejoin people, and then I’ll be on the job hunt - which I only mention because it may change my activity ability once that’s happening! I also do help out behind the scenes at another roleplay, so some creative juice goes there. Overall, ideally I’m at least online everyday to chat, plot, or post a reply. Some days the ole mental health needs me to stay off screens for a bit or just says You Aren’t Writing Today, but I’d say it’s been a while since I’ve gone more than 3 days without posting on an rp account, so whatever that translates to -- 7/10, maybe? ANYTHING ELSE?: Other than what I already messaged you about (and thank you again for your understanding!!), I just want to say I interpreted things a little differently than the recent skeleton edit/your anon answers imply -- I thought her magic manifested at thirteen with the instance of Moon freezing her mother’s arm, meaning her mother knew from that early age that Moon had powers, and only told Moon to leave when the rumours spread. I think that switches up the dynamic you might have imagined, but hopefully you still like it! I was also a little confused as to whether or not the Moon’s mother ever instructed her in the work she does -- because there is the “All she ever does in return is chuckle and pat you on the head, but you figure that she’ll tell you one day.” line, but it seems that’s when she’s younger, and I figured if she’s working as a botanist at the castle she must have been lessoned in the stuff to some degree. So there is mention of her mother teaching her botany in her history, but it’s not an ~important detail at all and could literally just straight up be removed from the bio without issue. Can you tell I’m anxious and need to over-clarify everything? Lmao. Anyway, thanks again Julie!! IN CHARACTER SKELETON: The Moon NAME: Maiden Mallorian / “Triss” I don’t largely go into naming conventions but I think there’s some worth in discussing it here! The use of Maiden as a given name is meant to embody an Otherness by using a commonly-used noun in place of a traditional name (... though I guess all names are nouns too… anyway), as well as a mystique. EG: If every young, unmarried woman is a maiden, then who is the girl we call Maiden? Is she all of those young women, or none of them - is she a person, or a concept? Can a woman even have an identity with a moniker shared by so many -- a similar question to can a girl have a sense of self if she is raised in isolation, if her teachers are not people but the meadows, the crows and the heaths and the moors? There’s also certainly the archetype of The Maiden in literature, particularly in relation to the trio of Maiden / Mother / Crone. Beyond her mother embracing this triumvirate of feminine archetypes and deliberately naming her after as much, there’s just that very literal interpretation - I’ve named her after the maiden archetype, pure and simple. Her mother is, clearly, the mother, and I see the High Priestess rounding out that divine feminine trio as the crone -- the most aged of all, the closest to death, and the bearer of the most knowledge. Furthermore you have the scrubbing of this name and the replacement of it with Triss -- a simple, short nickname that bares no importance or meaning, and instead effectively erases the things that made her unique. Maiden tends to forget or, at least, forgo introducing herself with the alias both because she dislikes and genuinely forgets to use it -- so you may have a smattering of people who know her in-character as Triss, but to those that she knows better and/or takes a liking to immediately, they’ll know her as Maiden. Which, if I’m continuing to be a little extra with the name analysis, is also a good representation of her duality/contradiction -- two names, two selves, two parts to the moon (glowing at night; invisible by day-hours), the illusion/deception part of the moon tarot, and all that jazz. FACECLAIM: (1) Frida Gustavsson (2) Ashley Moore AGE: Twenty-five DETAILS: So, full disclosure, I’ve said it a dozen times to a dozen different people but I had the hardest time deciding on a character -- I was literally stuck between five or six skeletons until like 48 hours before the submit closed. They were as varied as The Moon to Temperance to even the dark horse of The Hermit plowing its way through my heart, and what attracted me to that array of characters on the whole was just the ability to see a story in them. I could find in each of them a distinct past and complex future, but the Moon ended up pulling ahead as I started to collect inspiration and jot down notes -- it was Maiden’s story that wouldn’t leave me alone. And I will go into an attempt to tell you why below, but realistically that’s almost the best reason I could give you -- because they won’t unstick from your shoulder or let you reach for someone else. They demand to be spoken for. Truthfully, I love tales of daughters and their mothers. I love the narrative passed between them, how one can be an extension of the other -- I love a retelling of an immaculate conception where the magic is found in the mother, not an absent-holy father (even if said immaculate conception is just myth, because who says a story isn’t as important as a truth). I love women and their stories, and how no girl is ever so far from being a witch -- basically, I adore that Girl Magic, so it was her background that appealed to me first. Because while we’re talking about Girl Magic, there’s such a potential for that with The Moon. I saw her at the crux of an eccentric mage and a clumsy apprentice, possibly hovering in the middle because she has no instructor, only herself -- so she is forced to experiment and create and learn all at once. I also love archetypes of wild women, though that doesn’t have to mean the ones that run with wolves -- sometimes it means the ones who sleep next to them. I’m very drawn to stories of the Others, the ones a half-step from society, who hold something unusual and distinctly enchanted about them -- and Maiden, whose magic has manifested in a way that may prove unique to all humanity, certainly has that Otherness going for her. Women in real life (and in fiction) are so often grouped into homogenous categories or expectations that being able to write one who not only defies societal conventions, but exists outside them entirely, and with contradictions inside her -- phew. That’s some shit I can fall in love with. I do find it difficult to dissect and lay out who Maiden is so plainly -- to me, that’s like writing an analysis on a novel I haven’t finished yet. I can’t separate her bones for you yet on the table because I’m still unrolling them from the skin myself, measuring out the angles of her joints, sizing up her feet, etc. But I like that I know this muse is going to unravel for me with time, despite how much I already have done -- that’s actually a very important note to me in a character, feeling that there is still progress to be made as both myself and the muse go through the roleplay together. Though, that being said, I also don’t remember the last time I’ve been able to create such a long-term character arc from the get-go -- which is super exciting, tbh, and yet another reason I got drawn into the Moon’s lunar pull over the others. Got me out here feeling like I could write a novel 😭 BACKGROUND: let us begin, as all stories do - and as they must - at the beginning. to be fair and honest, as stories never are, we must admit that this is not quite the true beginning. that beginning, in this case and all others, would mean the black-star start of the world (or in the very least, if we are to cheat just slightly, the origins of magic - but i digress), when everything came from nothing and nothing meant everything. but for both your time and mine, we will skip past the first red, slashed dawn of the world, and even beyond the fantastic sky-breaking initiation that brought magic, though they did not come all that far apart, as you may think. i also feel that it is my duty to you, dear reader, to state my bias. that is all. i state it. i type it in bold letters, black like stones from the bottom of a cold ocean and just as cold. it has been relayed, and i have done what is necessary. i have no obligation to further explain to you what it may be, or to who i am favored or embittered - indeed, i staunchly oppose such action, as you yourself must have an active part in this tale, a responsibility to seek out what is truth and what is exaggeration - and there is no point in asking. but don’t read too much into this. all this facetious, drawn-out text is only a disclosure. this is a story, real as your whale-blubber bones, and i am not lying about any of it. all i mean to say is this: it is a sign both of humanity and of narration that we should always, must always, pick a side. it is simply necessary, just as it is necessary to remember this when one is the listener. never believe a narrator who does not disclose themselves upon the opening of a story, and never trust one that calls themselves impartial. they are lying. it is only natural to crave loveliness, or wickedness, or both, and it can only be expected that a tongue slants and bends to accommodate such reactions of the heart. there is no story that is all truth. there is only love and the words we create to try and express it; never quite accurate, never quite enough, like a burr soaked in honey and left on your tongue. stinging and sweet, but no matter how you try, you cannot spit it out. (remember, look closely, but not too hard). this is our story. i leave it in your mouth. there are three things in succession: a bargain, a girl, and magic. the order of these both matters and does not. it does not matter because all these things are one and the same in the end. it does matter for reasons that will become apparent shortly. there is, as many tales go, an unhappy woman (why it is never a man that is so morose and dissatisfied with life in these stories, we shall leave for the scholars to explain). she lives in a stretch of land where few who are not seeking her come, and spends her days shucking the cures and harms out of flowers and counting the wolves that pass by her road. the first bargain, by all accounts, happens some time ago, before we begin the meat of our tale: the woman lives simply but she lives alone, and for that fact alone she is considered both strange and in necessary want of a companion, for it is a truth universally acknowledged that even a peculiar woman is in want of a husband. yet no sojourner or knight come to her door seeking remedy is invited to stay longer, no boots left at her doorstep despite the impressive if not daunting presence of her beauty, and in the absence of romance the people in the farmlands grow restless, then talkative. what does a woman want beside a mate, they wonder? particularly when she is young, and beautiful, and alone, they add, because in these stories and every one that will be told thereafter until my throat is split in a great red grin, that is all that matters to an active audience. a child, they murmur finally. it must be a child. there are varying accounts of what happens next, but let me give you the gristle: a swell comes to the solitary woman’s belly, and in more moons, so comes a daughter. no one remembers when she is born, and it is something of a wonderment that she exists at all; far and wide she is eyed thrice-over by all those who see her babe form swaddled in her mother’s arms, wondering over which crib she has been snatched from. the farm-folk in the nearby flatlands believe that she was not stolen or bred but placed, a changeling offered to her mother in exchange for a bargain made with the undying god, or conjured up by spell and pure maternal desire alone (for you were a fool if you believed these simple folk saw a woman, young and beautiful and alone and with her fingers in the dirt, and never called her witch). others still swear the child came from the unfolded petals of a white flower, her minute form bundled up where the pollen was meant to be. whether this gossip speaks to the audacity of the men in the telling of the lie or the stupidity of the listener for believing something so unnatural, i will let you decide. or perhaps you believe in magic. do you? i digress. so as you are learning, the first bargain is both unimportant and not. completely individual and irrevocably part of a far larger, grander whole, indistinguishable from the rest. but next comes the girl, as i promised. and she is very, very important. she is our story. she is her mother’s in full, because blood and magick are one and the same, and the farmers are right in this alone: her mother loves her as meat loves salt, as lions love flesh and blood and not cabbages, and there is no unnatural thing in this world she would not do to make her borne. she loves her from dusk to dawn and dirt to moon, and so she gives her a name stitched with irony so that the fates will not sew it into her bones: maiden. a thing from every story, a girl on every street. she names her after a concept so that she will always be real, made of life. so that the tales whose paths she walks will not decide for her. mother and maiden live in the little cottage in the wide grasslands between wicked wood and dry cropland, and in the nothingness they have everything they need. mother hunts for their supper and teaches maiden to carry a bow when it is time, and more importantly how to give thanks to the beasts they carve up on the wooden table. they collect logs for fires and till the gardens by hand, taking from the earth all that they need and never - as mother instructs - a drop more. they play games of knots and crosses in the dirt and maiden makes dramas with the figures mother whittles, and to give you the very best truth of all, they want for very little that they do not have. she learns how to be a raven (observing), a fox (clever), a rabbit (swift), a riddle (everything all at once, and only sometimes a girl) from mother and the animals both, and she walks about the meadows barefoot and learns from the trees and birds, loves them the way she never loves people only because she has not had the chance. mothers and fauna are all well and good to take lessons from, but they do make a strange girl. she tells her secrets to the bees and watches the far-off puffs of smoke from the farmlands, pretending they are streams from a dragon’s nostrils and not the warmth of a hearth with children her age sitting next to it so that she does not feel sorry for herself. to her, there are but two people: her mother, and the people she trades with. it is not so bad; they are both very good at being alone, and the people of the nearest town are even better at reminding them to stay that way. when they blow into the hamlet on the western breeze maiden makes games of hanging off porches and climbing things that should never be touched, and she laughs so freely all the other children cannot help but come out from their hiding places and join her until their fathers call them back in. not with her, they say. not that one. — but o, how sweet and precocious a child she is when the visitors come, wrists knotted behind her back and eyes tied forward as she questions their intentions and demands, as if in secondary payment, life stories as recompense for mother’s skills. how you would have loved her, i tell you, that girl with her flaxen hair and moon-eyes, tugging on sleeves and walking the verbal-stride of a child who never learned how to shrink herself — how i love her even now! and if i must tell you something else: magic is rarely courteous, and almost never consolatory. when it arrives, no matter how many pieces of furniture i have shifted in my heart to make way for a girl called maiden, it comes with no such open space in its pit. where i have crafted an open sitting parlour it has bedroom sets and wicker fruit baskets and even a few grand lamps (never mind the fact that lamps do not yet exist; in the cavity of magic, there are always lamps), and so when it arrives she feels the weight of all these things dropped upon her head. and mother, who does so well at holding her silence it resembles a newborn babe swathed in cloth, still grips the quiet as carefully as church glass - even with one arm in disuse. you know by now, of course, what has happened. it is no secret to you or i what occurred that day, as some pieces of stories swell until they brush up against the audience independent of the narrative altogether. the effect was grand even if the moment was not, for unfortunately sometimes even the greatest plot devices happen when the writer is sleeping and cannot pause to fancy it all up. one moment a hand is merely a hand passing twine and foxglove, the next it has frozen in place. it might have been a lovely image under any other circumstance: the look of a pale, slim arm grasping a hanging purple head of flowers beneath thick, glittering ice like a delicately painted carving in a snowglobe. But indeed, how the image shook them instead of the other way around. in an effort to distract her, mother peels open the earth’s secrets at the seam and lets her peek into the sticky, moist centers and slurp the knowledge for herself. she shows her how to unfold plant-magic on the large wood table and lessons her on how to use it kindly in poultices and elixirs and bunches of dried ravensmaw. she learns what is used for fresh wounds and the herbs best combined to stave off heartbreak, and they are more similar than you think. but things are, distinctly, never the same: in a house that has only ever had two voices, there arrives a great sweeping of silence. mother is far-away in a place of wondering, the spot where mothers are ought to go when considering how best to protect their child. maiden too spends time in that same seat questioning who it is that has made her and why they stole from two separate bowls of clay, though the pair never seem to sit down and share a table in that place in peace. life goes on this way, i am loathe to report, until it gets worse. there is an awful quiet that does not leave that house, suspended between the unasked questions of what to do and what am i? maiden is kept from leaving the cabin or its surrounding pasture in ever-climbing extents until she is nought but bound to them, and mother makes the trips to the farmlands for supplies alone and ushers her out of the room when clients arrive. so, here she is in full, with flaxen hair and a moon hidden underneath her tongue: clever and strange, curious and lovely, tall and just a little too spindly-boned. a raven, a fox, a rabbit, a riddle, and sometimes a girl. magic bound in bones. a shut-in who never had reason to grow a heart, but did anyway, and now she is left to the lonesome. truly, can we blame her for what she did next, for answering the door all those moons later simply because someone knocked, and letting them in without checking if their teeth were bicuspids or fangs? can we fault that lonely creature for believing she could help, and fixing the tonic herself rather than waiting for mother, as instructed? can we accuse her for what came next, the slimmest moment of ice crystals skittering across a workbench, cold little diamonds that another less-shrewd eye might have ignored, but this one picked out? and what of the day the child got lost with a thorn in its foot, how she snuck from the cabin and cooed for them till it was yanked free, the simple smoothing of her thumb over the sole leaving it smooth as milk — i ask you that, in true: what crimes would you charge her with? do you blame the tiger for its hunting? it is only following nature, after all. or do you cast your stones on the people who threw nets through the trees and called it protection, expecting not to bleed. one cannot take in a wolf and expect it to never look back at the forest, no matter how well fed it is kept. like a flower cannot choose its colour, we cannot help what we become. she could not help what she did. it was only in her nature. so like rain, like a black cloud, like bad omens, the rumours come for the maiden, the one in the meadow, the one in the little wooden hut with the strange-beautiful-alone mother. daughter is even worse than the mother, they say. i heard it was ice — no, wind — nay, she is vitalus too — they build and rise until mother-maiden can hear the gossip in the air, having travelled by raven-feather and west-wind. of course none of it is the truth, for she bares a reality that no one yet knows — something hidden away like an egg inside an egg at the deepest part of the world — but it does not matter. audiences do not look for fact, they clutch only to wickedness or sweetness, as i have already told you. mother grows panicked with hydrangeas of fear spouting out of her ears, demanding a flight to be taken, and daughter lies awake at night wondering how to do so without wings — questioning how it has come to pass that she knows the roots and berries and grass, but not the woods or how to survive in them. you know, still, what happens next. there is another knock at the door, and despite lessons learned, the maiden answers the call: and this time it is death standing there waiting. they come to an agreement. sometimes death, too, is kind. history peeks its lazy, pinned-down eyes around the corner when the maiden of this story leaves her little hovel, fingers made of revolutions and religions clinging tightly to the doorframe to watch her go. the journey is perilous and full of dark places and occasional humour, if you are interested in that kind of adventure. i will tell it another time, when the back of my tongue has been given rest. i wish i could tell you, dear reader, which sort of story this will be: drama or comedy, mask one or mask two. but i don’t know yet. we will find out together, which makes us accomplices, you and i - like colleagues. two thieves after the same jewel. i have told her story because i love her, this much you know to be true by now, because we do not let the ones we love tell war stories. which is, in essence, what every story we can ever tell is: a battle of wits, or a conflict of hearts, or the combat of self against self. there is always a fight against something. it’s the nature of humanity, to push and poke and burn. —- – and now you see what i meant at the beginning of this tale: bargain. girl. magic. all of it comes in that necessary order and none at all. bargain. it arrives first, before her birth, a rumour; at the same time, it is the last twist, the thing that brings her to this castle. girl. she is born; she exists. magic. her blood, her marrow; a complexity of sparks and hope. a beginning, a middle, an end. a circle. a moon. PLOT IDEAS: These are laid out in a potential arc/chronological order of when I see them happening, but with the exception of a few, almost any combination could work! I. SHUCKED FROM PETALS. I’d like to grow Maiden’s role as a botanist -- both in terms of having her interest in botany itself swell, and also expand this into something of an inventor or potioner function. While she’s currently making strange concoctions at the King’s request, as an inherently curious woman I see these demands as something that will spark interest in her to create on her own. While in her youth she quizzed her mother on the applications of leaves and stems, now that she has no mentor for the process, she can only question and find answers by working through the hypotheses and methods herself. II. ON THE BASIS OF MORALITY. I see very strongly Maiden descending further into the plot to assassinate Septimus and joining the group of revolters in a more tangible way. Her ability to fight and knowledge of courtly life are both lacking, but she offers a unique vantage point of visiting all manner of individuals with the perfect excuse -- their health. As she becomes more decidedly entangled in the rebellion efforts and subsequently offers up her services to them, she begins to craft salves and potions with hidden effects, used in application against those they stand against (a poultice made with an herb that lends to truth when tending to someone with information / a drought with added pollen so that a guard may sleep through their shift that night, etc). Less fleshed out, but still worth noting: if the laced salves and elixirs are a no-go, she could slide into something of a spy/informant role fairly easy. Again, she has easy access to any array of people as the castle, and can come and go from different bedsides silently -- listening in on conversations all the while. III. FASTER THAN MINE ARROW. At the behest of the revolution -- where intentions ring with righteousness yet impact may be less virtuous -- I see Maiden encouraged to embrace her Inferni powers by rebel cohorts. While it’s not a path I see her arriving at and walking on her own, as she entrenches herself in the ideals and plots of the revolution, it would still be a willingly-made choice -- albeit perhaps still a reluctant one. She far prefers to heal than harm, but as the plot to kill Septimus ripens, she would accept the notion that an offensive skill gained by her becomes a shield and sword to the cause. I interpret this as less of an embrace of violence and more an eventual acceptance of her magic in all its parts; Maiden removing her gloves and making attempts at practicing Inferni magic brings with it an acknowledgement that not only are these powers part of her but they are hers alone to control. If she can develop some mastery over them, she can use them as she sees morally right, rather than their use dictated to her by others (so she believes). I want to see her not think of her magic as an intrusion and a mystery, but rather some native at the pit of her -- like stone in a fruit. As long as it is there, one could not bite straight through her. Sub-bullet because it’s not a huge thing, but I’d love a moment where she’s practicing with the ice in the greenhouse and loses control, subsequently destroying much of the flora in there beyond salvation -- cue a sobbing Maiden. Also! Would love to use this as an excuse for the Hierophant to become a sort-of mentor for her -- a dynamic she would undoubtedly seek out and beg for if the time came. IV. WHERE TRUTHS CONFLICT. As clearly as I envision Maiden’s loyalties knotting tighter to the revolutionaries, I don’t believe her resolution is iron in every aspect. While she may agree that King Septimus needs to be removed, deciding which successor she wishes to support would be far harder. This plot could be as simple as indecision and uncertainty on Maiden’s part, or could be as complex as a more nefarious individual taking advantage of her courtly ignorance and indecisiveness by manipulating her into backing their pick for future ruler. V. THE CURE & THE RUIN. Working intimately with anything lends to cross-contamination -- including poisonous plants. My thoughts on this fork a few different ways here, albeit my personal fave is the first bullet: Through her own misinformation or inexperience, Maiden accidentally begins to poison herself through prolonged exposure to toxic flora and their materials. Seeing as she’s in the greenhouse for hours at a time nearly every day, this would lend to a good, steady incline of symptoms -- paranoia, delusion, hallucinations, etc until they potentially culminate in a kind of temporary “madness.” An individual or party on the loyalist side discovers what she is doing for the revolters, and applies the same concept -- a slow poisoning, made to look accidental by exposure to the wrong flower. This may be less likely as it might be implausible for another character to have a knowledge of botany that surpasses her own and plant something toxic in the Greenhouse without Maiden realizing, but I’m totally open to it! Similar to the last, rather than a loyalist poisoning Maiden, they find a way to access her stash of concoctions and alter them so that they harm rather than heal those she is working with. Could be particularly dramatic if she is working long-term on a member of royalty or influential revolution member -- ie. something like visiting them daily to apply salve on a new wound that needs consistent tending. VI. WHAT ARE YOU, SWEET CREATURE? Maiden’s dual powers are bound to come into public knowledge eventually, and I think there’s the opportunity for some terror and delight there. I’ve been ruminating a lot on what the hybrid of her Inferni and Vitalus powers mean -- An Inferni rarely lives past thirty, and Maiden is already twenty-five. I’ve been imagining that she has not seen or felt the costs of her power like other Inferni due to the innate nature to heal, which is undoubtedly something other Inferni would desire. Whether Maiden willingly lays herself down to experimentation in the name of aiding the Hierophant or she’s literally captured by Septimus and crew for a less careful kind of research -- I’d love to see her secret blown up and her safety compromised as a result. VII. IT HURTS TO BECOME. I have little octopus tentacles coming out of this plot because I can see multiple variations on the same idea, so -- As inspired by the “Vitalis magic often manifests itself in nobility” line from the magic page, Maiden is discovered as the descendent of a noble bloodline. This could mean her father was the bearer of a title, or that even in a Mother Gothel-esque fashion her mother took her from a family in the desire to have her own child (though I favour the former). This is less about an advancement in her social standing/hierarchy and more about playing further with the themes of birth and identity. Particularly as an individual that isn’t well-matched to courtly manner and expectations, what would it be to disturb her peculiar existence further and force her into a lifestyle she has no interest in? How does it detract from her purpose and goals? Her mother is found out as someone who previously stayed at the Temple of the Undying and departed in some form of scandal known to the High Priestess. I think this would be particularly impactful if her mother’s time there overlapped directly with the High Priestess, and their relationship marked by some form of betrayal on her mother’s end. This would make her mother a necromancer, a fact that if going from this route was certainly kept from Maiden, or we could work with the concept that perhaps she was merely an emissary there. This bullet is less formed as it would require plotting with at least one other player, but essentially it boils down to braiding the High Priestess into her backstory (or, at least, the Temple of the Undying) -- a completion of the maiden/mother/crone build, if you will. Realistically, the above could be combined -- her mother has a past tied to both the Temple of the Undying, and her father is of noble descent. Lastly, this idea could also be twisted into a falsehood/manipulation of someone from Septimus/the Loyalist side -- she does not have noble blood and/or her mother’s past is made up, but they have fed her this story(s) in an attempt to distract/derail her from her purpose, or otherwise sway her onto the side of the Crown. VIII. THE MAIDEN IN THE TOWER. I see very clearly what Maiden could be in years time -- in the same way the King has the Tower, or perhaps even The High Priestess, I envision the capacity for Maiden to become an advisor in the arcane arts to the future ruler. This is very epilogue-esque content, the resolution to a tale long told, something far-off and subject to change depending on how the roleplay unfolds -- but if I was planning her arc from where I stand now, that would be the resolution. A femme!Merlin now in tune with her magicks, a strange figure forever working away in her greenhouse-laboratory in the highest room in the tallest tower, descending to the court only to offer counsel and smile at a few bugs… art. And maybe, just maybe, there’s even a bard out there singing about a strange moon-touched woman and her magic, who came from the Farmlands and ended up in a castle. That, I think, would make an awfully good story. CHARACTER DEATH: I’m definitely not opposed to it! If you see a plotline where her death makes sense I’m open to at least having the discussion -- it would probably depend how I’m feeling about her character development, as I do see quite clearly how far Maiden could develop with extensive, long-term rping (the Merlin-esque shit) and it’d be super cool to get there. WRITING SAMPLE SAMPLE #01. TWENTY-FIVE. CASTLE TYRHOLM, THE GREENHOUSE. Based on headcanons found in the extra section! it is the damnable wine she calls to blame for her recession from the great hall. yet still unused to its potency, it turns her stomach and her mind with it, until she is unbalanced and sure a marble placed upon the centre of her would roll only to one side, lolling comically behind her left ear. maiden swears she can hears it as she takes her leave from the night’s feast, a hideous clacking circling around her skull as she takes the steps to the greenhouse. the sound was a well accompaniment to the noise of heart against rib, that lub lub that reminisced so closely to collection of stones in a velvet satchel. how is that for an appraisal, she thinks. an inferni and a vitalus yet, and yet you cannot even hold your liquor. down below, music begins. septimus is performing one of his many wonders, conjuring up new entertainments like a foreigner’s god and his labours – things meant to fell mortal men in their spectacle. the sound, though muffled by stone, is light and deceptive with a beat kept by tambourine and wound through with panpipes. it crashes and crawls as a serpent through brush, dragging its body across the span of men’s shoulders and up the marble spires until it reaches the slender ankles of maiden high above, who slips from the darling (albeit pinching) satin slippers borrowed from the magician. o, that that song had teeth. it would sink them pit-deep into that lovely, exposed ankle. the footfalls that emerge from the far entrance are remote in distance, yet the cadence of it -- quick and spry, in the pattern of a courtly dance -- are close and recognized by ear in an instant. “your skill is in the making of noise, bard. so i would suggest --” she calls to armel with a bland hum, bent over a troop of growing windflowers as she cuts the largest at the stalk, her sharp fingernail used in place of scissors. “leaving behind these foolhardy attempts to remove sound from your being altogether.” maiden looks up then to the musician’s hiding place, half-covered as he is by bushes camellias and hanging vines. the look given beneath her brows is chiding, but it is a reproach with a single candle lit within, a glance perhaps warmed by liquor despite its meaning. “how do you always do that?” he asks, and maiden decides there is something rather feline about him as he emerges from the brush, shoulders rolling with that mandolin hoisted over one. “i didn’t say a word.” “you do not need to. your stroll speaks for you.” the air is moon-hot and the music swells below them, rising like tide to their knees, now their hips. her voice is cut-rope, one end loose in the water, and maiden lets the tide of the pull her, only one end remaining on shore. “asides…” she sighs, “you limp on the left.” “i do not.” “indeed you do. like a horse with a lame leg.” it is a full-force lie, dropped into a casket of wine and pulled out stinking, and armel catches her half-crescent smile at the same moment he spots her bare feet. “i suppose you won’t be returning to the ball, then.” maiden turns and takes to walking the length of the greenery. her back turns to him, but not unkindly; instead her slow, graceful gait seems an invitation to join, though he does not follow. she listens to armel as she winds through the tall grass, eyes upon the stalks, searching for anything that might catch her eye. in the moonlight she is all silhouette and odd-shapes, ever and always a little too-tall, a little too sharp-boned at the joints. but when she moves like this, slow and easily-flooded as moonlight itself, one could forget all that. “dancing slippers are quite unsuitably named,” she says by way of answer as the bard begins an absent strum on his instrument. “they give me no motivation at all to partake in such merriment.” armel does not answer, instead quite pensively continuing to pluck at notes while looking at the near distance -- assumedly undergoing great internal debate as to whether or not he was, truly, a lame horse. “a peace —” she slides the long stem of a gore-red windflower behind his ear when next she passes, as natural a move as though it were but tucking a strand of her own hair behind her ear. maiden smiles. “you actually limp on the right.” //

SAMPLE #02. AGE FIFTEEN. A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS & A DESPERATE ATTEMPT. Fire, it would seem, had ceased to be a friend to her. As a girl she had delighted in it, waving her hands above it, warming herself on it, staring at every passing wooden cart laden with people in the chance that one of them could be a fire-eater. Ice, that thing that ate and yawned across lakes and thatched roofs as if it remembered it had once devoured the world, was far more cruel in Maiden’s opinion. Could I not, at least, have had that which heats and provides sustenance? And more than even these sweet instances from childhood, she knew of fire intimately as an adult. It was a different kind of flame that brewed in her than what ran free in the wild; it was less violent and more warm, meant for thawing out the cold hands of children or creating delightful ever-shifting silhouettes on walls. She walked alone because she liked it, and spoke to strangers for great lengths of time because it excited her. That was her kind of fire, and so Maiden - it could be said - was as much flame as anyone, even as she chilled the air around her with her very presence. That was why, as she sat on her knees before the great outstretching flames of the parlour’s hearth, she had no caution as she threw paper into its guts. “Enough of this!” The girl was alone, but spoke aloud: it was part of her charm. Like a girl in a folktale who was subjected to life in a tower, she existed brightly when on her own because she knew no other way. The Mallorian girl did not need the accompaniment of another to prove her own worth. The fire sputtered charmingly in response, engorging itself as it swallowed paper and turned it into little pieces of nothingness. “No more curses, no more ice or damned magic!” Her hand shakes, but her heart holds its breath and remains steady. Stained at the tips with ash and melted ink, Maiden sits back on her thighs with a great tremble and stares into the flames before she falls to the pose of prayer. “Undying God, harbinger of all things, if this is your doing, let it be undone. I have wronged you not at all, nor my mother; I am not your child. Please.” Her ears burned pink with fear for addressing a deity with the same volume she would have a man standing before her, but it was too early to stop now. She pauses momentarily, straining to listen for a rumbling voice come from within the fire or swung in on the wind and branches. There is nothing but the crackle of pop of breaking wood. “Then -- then if it is the household spirits come for me, unhappy gnomes with rumbling tummies ‘for we have not been feeding them, emerge now! Or call it all off! Call it off, I say, spirits - take this magic from me so I may live in peace!” Again, she waits. And perhaps, if you would hold your hands over the ears of your heart and allow this young woman to admit it, she might have told you that she truly expected a troll-like little fellow with a green cap and scowling mug to emerge from beneath the ottoman. But there still is nothing, not even the tap of impatient little feet from behind the curtains, and her brows furrow as she stares into the hot gold and rose colours of the fire. Maiden sighs, a heavy breath that drops out of her mouth and rolls into the soot of the hearth. She suddenly feels much too old for these follies. Looking over at the pile of hastily-written spells and official decrees of intent (from Maiden to the Undying God, officially) to rid herself of this curse, the wheat-and-snow coloured girl pauses (and it pains me to say it, dearest reader, but the truth of the matter is that in the light of this blaze, she very much resembles the beautiful women you read about who either have very tragic ends or very wonderful ones in tales you all know). She had burned not even half yet, each one a representation of a day that had been ruined by questions or cold or mother’s worry, and there were still more to go. But no sign of the Undying in her great black steed, or impish house elves crawling out from the cracks beneath the woods. For a moment, she considers stopping. She considers picking up the remainder of the letters, tying them up with some of mother’s twine, and returning them to their proper drawer in the study. But as her hand hovers of the papyrus, her heart protests and causes her to pause. She is, after all, no girl in the tower. She will not sit in anybody’s stomach and wait for the woodsman. And if, in the odd and unusual chance that this circumstance of odd and unusual proportions is caused by something otherworldly, Maiden Mallorian shall not bow to it. No, no bowing indeed. “Now listen here --” Her voice raises, grows taller and older. It might be imagination, but the fire seems to as well. “Whether you be Undying God or lowly household gnome, I shall have no more of this. Do you understand? Are you listening, creatures?” There is nothing so impressive as unafraid, youthful folly. “I shall not be carried away to a cold temple to be a child of misery, and will not let this magic ruin me if you shall not bring me answers. If one of you are indeed responsible for this, it ends now. I am Maiden Mallorian, daughter of Yareli; and a right all in my own!” The sweet curves of her breasts rise and fall like toppling empires as she throws the remainder of the pages into the fire, staring fiercely into the contents as if to decipher an answer in their ash. There is a sudden seizure in her instead, a tight and pressing thing foreign to her soft-spun body. It demands something of her, as intent as fingers pressing into her ribs. She picks up the letter opener at her side, brought from the study to slide open old envelopes, but now she raises it to her chin and cuts in one fell swoop. It does not happen with ease, but off comes a handful of her hair. The edges of her locks are jagged, but the pieces in her palm look like fine oat straw that glitter in the light. She throws that, too, into the pile, and does not realize it has chilled. “There.” She speaks. It is solid and sure and sane. “There is my tribute.” Magic cannot be made by offering someone else’s liver. You must tear out your own and never expect to get it back. “Please... take it away.” Her voice, once grand and ringing of dynasties past, now calms. She begins to sound once more like only a girl of this century. “I am… Maiden Mallorian… and I do not wish to live a life of unhappiness.” The strength that once held her shoulders aloft departs in a gentle breath, leaving her soft to touch -- quivering. “If you shall not take this from me... I will make my own way, no matter who has done this -- be it God or beast or some creature in between --” She stands, in possession of some quiet power. “One day I will find my truth. And then I will know a free heart at last.” She leaves before the paper and hair have all disappeared, trusting the fire -- that once-longtime friend, that formerly beloved and willingly indentured servant -- to do as it is meant to. As the cold evening wages on the flame starts to die, and, left unattended, everything turns to ash. All that is left in the hearth of the Mallorian home is the same colour: black. But it is not a frightening colour if you look closely. It seems, perhaps, the ink in this story is drying. It is time for a new chapter.

EXTRAS A NOTE ON ~MAGICK: I just wanted to state that while I loved imbuing her story/personality with themes of oddity and enchantment, I don’t expect any of these things to be real. Her biography was supposed to be an exaggerated verbal retelling, and in example: the rumour that Maiden’s birth was the result of not a normal conception but pure willpower and magic is just that -- hearsay crafted by unnerved townsfolk trying to justify a strange, unmarried woman in the woods and her peculiar daughter. I’m also not sure what balance you’re looking to strike between realism and fantasy, so if things like her pet owl are too much the former -- no problem!! I could definitely tone down anything you think is too out there! PINTEREST: here. MUSE TAG: here. CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS BIG AND SMALL!: Kayley (Quest for Camelot), Garrett (Quest for Camelot), Phoebe Buffay (Friends), Amalthea (The Last Unicorn), Rapunzel (Tangled), Merlin (The Sword in the Stone), Arthur (The Sword in the Stone), Taran (The Black Cauldron), Eilonwy (The Black Cauldron), Katrina van Tassel (Sleepy Hollow (1999)), Nimue/Lady of the Lake (Arthurian mythology), Honey Lemon (Big Hero 6), Vasya Petrovna (The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden), Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire), The Mage (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Thumbelina (fairytale), Circe (Circe by Madeline Miller), Yvaine (Stardust) HEADCANONS: She has a mild form of associative prosopagnosia, a type of facial blindness. While Maiden can distinguish faces from one another, it’s essentially difficult for her to recognize those she’s newly met or has not known (and subsequently seen) for a certain amount of time. As her youth in the woods meant infrequent visits from varying strangers and acquaintances, Maiden learned from a very young age to identify those she met with other signifiers -- the pitch of their voice, their cadence, the pattern of their boots on her mother’s shop’s creaky wood floor -- and she has become exceptional at it. While she may struggle to associate new faces with names, if she has heard your voice or the template of your gait, it is likely she can recognize you from the sound of these alone in the next room. Contingent on the above, I like to picture a longstanding game between Armel and Maiden with him attempting to sneak up on her, trying to outdo her hearing abilities only to be smoothly called out each time -- like the first twenty seconds of this scene from Tarzan. -- And obviously this was inspo for one of my writing samples! Major sweet tooth, and most likely has a standing relationship with The Hanged Man who provides her with desserts in exchange for tonics or pouches of seasoning curated from Maiden’s personal collection up in the greenhouse. Alternatively, she’s The Hanged Man’s personal Garfield, constantly being chased out of the kitchen before she can stick a finger in icing or steal a hot bun. Another Armel headcanon because I’m a sucker for a Found Sibling dynamic: Maiden has been teasing him for ages with the concept of knowing (and withholding) an Epic Folksong that her mother taught her and that would be just perfect for him to perform. There’s every likelihood that there is no song and she’s made it up to amuse herself, but every once and a while she hums a foreign tune or drops a few words from the “lyrics” to keep him interested. If it is a real song, bonus points if she’s making Armel do little chores etc to earn another piece of the song. Subject to plotting with Death’s player, I imagine her nickname/alias Triss was borne from a singular moment where they introduced her to someone within the castle upon arrival -- only to bluster that she used that strange name, Maiden, which confused the third party. Death makes a quick save by adding that “she means only that she is a maiden from the Farmlands,” and creating the assumed name on the spot, forcing Maiden to adopt it. Both due to falling asleep atop a text after extensive nights reading and researching and the comfort of being around plants, Maiden often sleeps in the greenhouse -- in fact, she prefers it to the cramped quarters she’s been given, and keeps a spare blanket there at all times. In the greenhouse has also come into residence a fat, one-eyed grey cat who she has named Augrunn, known affectionately (or otherwise) Auggie. Grumpy and demanding, Maiden found him taking shelter in the greenhouse on a particularly rainy day, and though he comes and goes as he pleases, it’s now effectively his home. Auggie is known to both yowl for personal space if you’re too close and swipe if you stop petting him too early. Similarly, Maiden has an owl-friend whose name I haven’t decided on, but the front-runner is currently Archimedes. Unbothered by Augrunn’s attempts to snatch him out of the air, he’s a chill little feather-loaf that watches the comings and goings of the greenhouse from the carved wood perch she has made him. He is aware of the location of Maiden’s sleeping quarters, and can occasionally be found sitting on her windowsill when she’s there. She bruises very easily, even in circumstances unrelated to use of her Inferni magic -- just as likely to get a mark from walking into a corner as she is to scar from the use of her ice powers. Insects don’t bother her in the slightest. Growing up in a small home filled with plants, there were always bugs crawling around the flora, and Maiden appreciates them all. She will 100% pick up the scary spider you’re flinching from and make sure they get back to their web. Prefers to be barefoot, and likely does not share the same feelings of taboo around exposed skin as most others -- to her, flesh is only flesh, and a very natural thing at that. Temperature is a funny thing for her -- given that she seems to emanate a kind of cold, I think it stands to reason that she doesn’t easily chill, but that it is also hard to heat her up. I picture it like a normal hand held above a flame, then one stuck in the snow -- it’s going to take longer for her to melt before she feels any pain from the fire. CONNECTIONS: *Obligatory these are just ideas and I’m totally open when it comes time to plotting with these players! THE HIEROPHANT: Chihiro and Haku vibes (that sort-of-romance entirely unnecessary, though I would be down for Maiden to have a little crush), basically. Give me a Maiden as impressed by their showy nature as their inner fire to overthrow Septimus -- an Inferni mentor, even, or just an individual that helps guide her through the dangers of Tyrholm’s court. Also… ice and fire... I meant to do more but ran out of time rip

#accepted #accepted: the moon

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tellerford-mayhem · 7 years

Text

Americano: No hablo su Jesus Cristo Chapter 3

Masterlist

Ship: Chibs x OC

Word Count: 2,500 Words

Synopsis: Isa learns that the Sons may not have been involved in the death of her father.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Suicide

A/N: As promised, here is part 3!! Next part, which I have already started features a very different dynamic in the relationship between Isa and Chibs as he comes to terms with what she means to him.

Her POV

Isa hadn't seen SAMCRO in 2 weeks, which she had found rather odd, but at the same time she felt relieved. She had hoped something fell through and the tribe was no longer selling to them. However, when she heard a group of bikes approaching that day, her heart sank. She walked outside and saw them park in front of her house. Chibs smiled at her as he took off his helmet. She rolled her eyes and stormed through them. “If looks could kill…” she heard Tig day under his breath.

She huffed and continued walking until she got to Wolf Tamer’s house. She knocked loudly on the door. “Wolf, let's go!”

He stepped outside in his boxers and shielded his eyes from the sun. He saw the bikes outside her house, so he knew why she was there. “Can you wait until I am dressed?”

She nodded and stepped inside. “We are going to Oakland.”

“Why?” She heard him ask from down the hallway.

“I'm not supposed to be here while SAMCRO is here, and I don't want to be followed while I'm alone, again.”

“You were followed?” He asked as he walked towards her while pulling a shirt over his head.

“Jax had his Scottish Bulldog follow me into Charming. They don't trust me because my uncle is Alvarez.”

He grabbed a hat off the kitchen table. “I'll tag along. Why are we going to Oakland today?”

She smiled as they walked to her car. Chibs and Tig watched her as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “To make them nervous,” she said as they backed down the driveway.

“Please don’t get me killed,” he said, looking back at the biker who was close behind them.

Chibs POV

He watched her walk into Wolf Tamer’s house and instantly grew uncomfortable. He kept a close eye on the door, waiting for her to storm back out. He heard movement coming from there before the two of them walked out and past their bikes. He heard her mention Oakland before getting into her car, smiling at them. “Shite,” he said under his breath.

“Where’s she going?” Tig asked.

“Tell Jax I’ve gotta run.”

“Chibs!” he called after him as Chibs sped away.

He followed at a distance. As soon as he entered Mayan territory, he pulled over and removed his patch; anything to lessen his chances of being spotted. He watched as they pulled into the same driveway as a few weeks ago. She got out of her car and hugged her uncle who met her in the driveway. He watched Wolf Tamer get out of the car and shake Alvarez’s hand. He sat against his bike, watching carefully until he felt the cool of a gun touch the back of his neck. “You’re a long way from home,” said a voice from behind him.

“Aye, and yer treadin’ in dangerous waters.” He put his hands up and slowly turned around. He was face to face with one of the Mayans. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for Alvarez.”

“I’m well aware. I saw you following his sobrina.”

“I’m not followin’ her,” he lied, “I’m followin’ her friend.”

“Either way, you’re awfully brave heading down into Mayan territory alone.”

“Pedro, lo dejó ir.” Her voice was a blessing. It gave Chibs a chance to find a way to escape.

“Ha estado siguiéndote todo este tiempo,” he said.

Chibs dropped his hands and turned around. Isa was standing behind them with her arms crossed. She looked sufficiently annoyed. “Lo sé. Le pedí que lo hiciera.”

Pedro shook his head and dropped his gun. “He stays here until you leave.”

She walked confidently towards him. “He can go wherever I damn well tell him to, Pedro. Now go inside before I have another conversation with Uncle Marcus.”

“Ten cuidado, princesa.”

She waited until he was out of earshot before she said something to Chibs. “I’m not going to tell my uncle anything. Go home.”

“Not gonna happen, mo leannan.”

She pushed him backwards. “Go home, Chibs!”

“Isa!” Marcus called to her from across the street. He drew his gun. “What is he doing here?”

“Ay dios mio. I had him follow me!”

“Why?”

“Why? Porque estás trabajando con el diablo.”

“So you hired SAMCRO?”

“Yes. I don’t trust your new partner, so I can’t ask one of our guys.”

He rubbed his hand across his face before looking at Chibs. “You realize if anything happens to her…”

“I know.” Chibs said.

Alvarez looked between his niece and the Scot. Anger and hatred welled in his eyes. “Diana has dinner ready, Isa, let’s go.”

“I’ll be right in, Tio.”

She turned back to Chibs. “Looks like you’re stuck here, now,” she smiled. “But when we get back to the rez, we are going to talk.”

“I’m countin’ down the hours, lass.” He said with a wink.

“Bleh.” she turned and headed back in.

Chibs watched her walk away. Despite the fact he was doing something they normally give to the Prospect, he was glad his tail was something sweet to look at. He grabbed his cellphone and sent Jax a text telling him that he followed her to Oakland to her uncle’s home and that he was stuck there until she left.

Her POV

She peered through the curtain to see him leaning against his bike, smoking. Wolf and her uncle were still sitting at the table, full from dinner. She had made him wait all afternoon while she spent time with her family. Her aunt came up from behind her and said softly, “Nunca he visto a Marcus tan molesto por SAMCRO.”

She turned to Diana. “Si lo supieras, tía.”

Wolf was leaning back smiling as he continued talking with Alvarez. It was like when she was younger and her parents would bring her over to Uncle Marcus and Aunt Diana’s home for holidays. They would allow her to bring Wolf so she had someone to talk to. None of her cousins were her age, so she had no one to play with or keep her occupied. Marcus was as much his uncle as he was hers. “He’s grown up quite nicely.” She turned back to the window. “But this one out here…” She looked back at her. “He’s not half bad either.”

Isa shook her head. “The Scot outside can go fuck himself.”

“Isa…”

“Don’t worry. I’d tell him that to his face, and as for Wolf…”

She rested her hand on her niece’s arm. “I’m only giving you a hard time. Come with me and help me fix dessert.”

Isa followed her aunt into the kitchen. “Your uncle tells me that you want to move back to Oakland.”

“I do,” she said as she poured another glass of wine. “I can’t live on the rez anymore. I love my family there, but I miss it here.”

Diana sighed. “I remember before your mother’s accident, she made me promise to her to watch over you. She wanted you out of this life and as far away from the Mayans and SAMCRO as you could get. If you moved back here, you’d only be in deeper.”

“It doesn’t matter where I live, this life will follow me. Literally. Have you noticed the biker sitting outside?”

She grabbed plates out of the cabinet. “Look at what has happened to your family. Your sister is gone; your brother is dead; and then there’s your parents. This life killed your parents. You are all that is left of Mateo and Aiyana.”

“I am not leaving this life until SAMCRO feels my pain,” she said.

“Isa, what are you planning?”

“I don’t know, yet, but I can’t rest until I’ve avenged my father.”

Diana shook her head. “Is that why he’s following you? They know you're up to something?”

“Why they're following me doesn't matter. They don't trust me because of who I'm related to.”

“They aren't following anyone else, so why you?”

Isa contemplated on telling her aunt their relationship with the Wahewa, but she knew if SAMCRO found out, they'd kill her. “I guess because I live too close to Charming for comfort.” She hated lying to her aunt, but it was something she had grown accustomed living this style of life.

“Please be careful. MCs are dangerous. If our crew finds out, this is going to put you right in the crossfire.”

“I can handle myself, Tia Diana.”

Diana handed her a plate of Tres Leches Cake. “Serve this to your uncle.”

Isa picked up another plate for Wolf. Her aunt handed her two extra plates when she came back into the kitchen. “I’m sure your tail is hungry.”

“I’m not taking him anything.”

“Es hora de hacer la paz con el pasado, Isa.”

“I will when the person responsible for my father’s death feels my pain.”

Diana sighed. “If you don’t take this to him, I will.”

Isa rolled her eyes and took the two plates outside. Chibs was sitting on the curb next to his bike, smoking a cigarette. “Oy, Cabrón, aquí esta su postre.”

He smiled and put out his light. “Thank ye, lass. I was getting a wee bit famished sittin’ out here.”

“Don’t start thinking I actually care about you. My aunt made me bring this to you.”

He grabbed the plate from her and began to dig in. She stood across from him and ate her dessert. “Finish the dessert and go back to the rez.”

“Look, Lass, I ken that ye aren’t gonna say anything, but you and I need to have a talk about yer da’.”

She stopped eating and glared at him. “No, we don’t.” She took the plate away from him and stormed back across the street. She found her aunt, uncle, and friend sitting around the table enjoying her uncle’s favorite dessert. “I think it’s time we head home, Wolf.”

He finished his last bite and took his plate into the kitchen. “Marcus, Diana, it’s always great seeing you two. Thanks again, for dinner!”

Diana hugged him and Isa. “I’m so happy you were able to come for dinner!”

“Te amo, Sobrina,” Marcus said from his chair.

“Te amo, Tio.”

His POV

They got back to the reservation after SAMCRO had left. Chibs parked his bike behind her car and leaned against the trunk. “Run along, Wolfie. Yer girl and I need to have a talk,” he said, shooing Wolf Tamer away.

“I’ll wait here with her.”

“Wolf, can you wait inside? I’ll holler if I need you.”

He shook his head. “I’ll sit on the porch, but I’m not going inside.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms and turned to him. “Look, today is the only day I will cover for you in Oakland. I only did it because I wanted a peaceful day with my family.”

He smiled. “Still. Thank ye, Lass.” He adjusted against the truck and sighed. “We still need to talk about yer da’.”

She grew rigid. “The last thing I want to talk about with you is my father.”

He shook his head. He still had no information to give her, as Otto was still looking into it on his end, but he wanted to at least put the doubt in her mind. “SAMCRO didn’ kill yer da’.”

She looked up at him, anger welling in her eyes. The look cut through him, stinging every fiber in his body. “I have no reason to lie to ye,” he said “I just know we didn’ kill yer da’. We were in talks with him about a peace. We had lost too many, just like the Mayans did, but when Mateo died it sent us right back into the war with them. Someone framed us, Isa.”

She crossed her arms. “How do you know this?”

“I was there.”

“Then who killed him? Who carved the Anarchy ‘A’ into the middle of his chest and left him to bleed out on his bathroom floor?”

“I dinna ken, Lass. Tha’ I’m still trying to figure out for ye.”

“Or you’re trying to cover it up for your club.”

He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. “Just think about it, will ye? Why would our club kill yer da’ if we were tryin’ to make peace with ‘im?”

She looked over to Wolf who was watching them intently. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Think about it. I’m sure I’ll see ye in a couple of weeks.”

“Great.” She quickly turned and stormed past Wolf with tears in her eyes.

Wolf looked between the two of them and glared at Chibs. “She might need some of yer comfort,” Chibs said motioning to the house.

“I get why my tribe trades with you, but you don’t need to be here.” He stood tall as he approached the Scot. “You aren’t going to follow her anymore; you aren’t going to come around her anymore; and you certainly aren’t going to talk to her about Mateo anymore.”

“Is tha’ right?” Chibs took a step towards him. “Well, maybe I intend to find out who really killed her da’ so she can ‘ave peace o’ mind. After which, I’ll kick yer red, Indian arse for even thinkin’ about tellin’ me what ta do.”

Wolf stared at him. “You think that because you’re some big, bad biker that you can walk over anyone. I’m not going to let you do that to Isa. She’s been through enough, and I swear if you don’t leave her alone, my red, Indian arse will be kicking your pale, Scottish one back to where it came from.”

Chibs smiled. “Oh, I’m sure ye will,” he said, “tell yer girl I’ll be in touch.”

He stared at the biker as he drove away, angry at the pain he was causing Isa. He knew she was in her room, staring at old pictures of Mateo and Aiyana with their three beautiful children. Wolf had been there through everything: her sister’s suicide, her brother’s overdose, and her parents’ deaths. Isadora had no one left, except aunts and uncles. She was completely and utterly alone, she felt, in her suffering, and there was nothing he could do to help her. All he felt he could do was keep her away from the Scottish prick that was tormenting her by digging up her past. Whether or not the Sons killed Mateo didn’t matter. Chibs was bringing up something that she didn’t want to think about.

As Chibs drove away, all he could think about was the look on her face. Doubt. It was there. She knew the Sons didn’t kill her father, but they were the closest Mayan enemy she could think of to blame them. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but he didn’t want her to think of him as a cold-blooded murderer. He wanted her to see his club and him in a better light, and he was going to make damn sure she did.

#Chibs x OC #Chibs Telford #Tommy Flanagan #SAMCRO #SoA #Sons of Anarchy #Americano

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years

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27th November 2017

Our alarm went off at 0700. We planned to get up, have breakfast and leave by 0730. We laid in bed until around 0715 and then the mad rush began... We got dressed, brushed our teeth and packed the van up as fast as we could. We checked out, got our deposit back and drove the 3 minutes to the marina. We parked in the South side part (the only car park) and walked 5 minutes to the North side. It took us about 10 minutes to find out where the North side was though. There were hardly any signs or people around to help. We went further South thinking it was North...

We got caught up in a traffic jam of people getting off a cruise ship. We were almost forced to have our photo taken but after a few attempts of saying “We're not with the cruise!”, they finally got the jist.

We walked around all the tours trying to find ours. I spotted a blonde girl with a top on which seemed to say something with an S. That was better than nothing so far. I walked over and the top said 'Summertime'. Wahoo. We're not being left behind!

Steve and I introduced ourselves and handed our forms in. We were the only ones who were capable of signing them properly apparently, so she was helping everyone re-do theirs. She finally introduced herself as 'Georgia', from Leicester, England. She seemed to be around my age so I was certain we would get along fine.

Our boat was a small-ish one, our group was 16 including us both, excluding Captain Jack (Aussie) and Deckhand Georgia.

Our group consisted of a family of three from England – Mum, Dad and Son. Dan (son) was in his late 20's who completed his year visa to Oz 7 years ago. He's here again showing Mum and Dad his favourite parts. I think they were from Bolton (they had funny accents, ignoring words like 'the'). Mum and Dad don't live in England any more though, they moved to Portugal and do a B&B thing. Dan still lives in England.

An Irish couple, 28 & 29 years old. Engaged to be married next May, on a 3 week holiday to Australia. We got on the best with these two – stuck with them basically the whole time! A lone traveller, early 20's from the Netherlands. We had to share a 'room' with Hannah, she was alright.

2 French girls. They were absolutely lovely even though we didn't really talk much to them. Very easy going, always went last for everything including getting food. Generally really happy, nice people.

3 German couples – all female friends, all in pairs and neither of them knew each other. All backpackers who ended up being the best of friends and some of the worst people to be a on 2 day 1 night boat trip with. Unfortunately, they booked Summertime for the same reason as us. It has a reputation of 'no backpackers' and all the backpackers picked it! They were just very young and very hyper. A particularly annoying girl was called Lisa. She had to have the attention all the time. She's a vegetarian so had different meals and what not. She asked several times for soy milk but she never told them beforehand about not being able to drink normal milk, so they never managed to get some in. She made a massive fuss about not being able to drink tea or coffee black because it gives her a bad stomach (she has black tea after about 3 hours).

So, we all boarded the vessel, sat down and went through all the safety bits and bobs, itinerary and everything else that needed to be said. We weren't allowed to bring our own bags onto this trip, they provided us all with a tote bag to use. This is because of bed bugs. We weren't allowed to bring shampoo or conditioner either because apparently that ruins the reef. No red wine due to it staining either. Other than that, we were all good to go. Steve and I had 5 cans of apple cider each which I doubt will even get used but better to be prepared.

The boat was a medium sized boat, fairly old (70 years old I think) and was quite limited to space. There were benches either side which everyone sat on. Downstairs were where our rooms were and it was pretty much an open area. Bunks all around the outside with a main table in the middle and the two toilets. Steve and I shared a double top bunk and there was a single below us for Hannah. There was a little door/curtain to close it off but there were gaps in the top and bottom so lights and sounds would still get through. The same for everyone. When I say double bunk, it was slightly bigger than a single bunk. I’d describe it as a single bunk for someone with a large rear end, perfect for me!

We were told we could only have a 60 second shower as there's limited water on a boat and should it run out, the trip gets cancelled and back to Abell Point Marina we go. Pretty straight forward and understanding.

We set off for what ended up being a 4 hour journey to the Whitsunday Islands. We had tea and coffee with biscuits to start with which was great as Steve and I were starving. I was able to take my seasickness tablets too as I was advised the boat was fairly wobbly. I was dreading it but so far so good, no paper bags at the ready.

We had an early lunch around 1200. Lunch was a roll with ham/beef/cheese and salad. It was fairly boring and there wasn't enough for everyone to have a second. They did bring out wraps which helped so that was better than nothing.

We arrived at Tongue Point, Whitsunday Islands around 1200. We had to leave the main boat and get into a tender to the shore. Steve and I went in the first 8 and waited on the beach for the rest. We had a short 5-10 minute hike up to the main lookout. The walk was easy, it was just absolutely boiling hot. I hadn't realised that Steve and I (mainly I) had got very burnt on the boat on the way out here. I was bright red and everyone was mentioning it to me. I was caked in sun cream, I was leaving it on thick so I looked like a right tit as it was.

There were loads of different tour groups around. You had to make sure you kept an eye on your deckhand otherwise you could easily get mixed up. We finally reached the top of the lookout point and the view was incredible. It actually seemed unreal... You see these sort of views used as photo shop backgrounds. When people stood there for a photo in front of the view, it looked like they had a different background and they were cut out!

It was a bright blue/turquoise ocean with swirls of sand islands going through it. I will never, ever forget the view. I believe it's rated as the worlds second most beautiful/amazing beach.

There were a lot of people at the lookout. It was a one-way system so once you moved on, you were done. Our group were finished after about 15 minutes looking out. We did the walk back down and then we were able to go onto the beach!

The walk to the beach only took 5 minutes. The sand was a fine white sand, soft and squeaky. Exactly like Maya Bay in Thailand. The sand went on for miles and the water was clear as anything. We had an hour and 15 minutes to play with so Steve and I put our wet suits on and went straight into the water. I was still really quite burnt so my wet suit stayed on for that as well as the marine stingers.

The water was lovely but didn't go further than your thighs. No matter how much you walked out, it stayed at the same level. We quickly realised that we shared the water with hundreds of stingrays. You saw big, dark, round circles sitting still until you got close, then they disappeared quickly. Some stayed very still which is how we realised what they were. I filmed some on the GoPro.

We stayed in the water for a while before getting out to do photos. We took photos by a big white log which is allegedly famous. Steve assisted the girls in a pyramid by being at the bottom with Bryan (the male part of the Irish couple).

We all met up at our meeting point at 1515. That meant it was time to leave Whitehaven Beach. What an incredible spot. A memory of a lifetime that. We all got into the tender and back on the boat, starving I may add! We had snacks being cooked for us, tea, coffee and cookies were there already. The German backpackers were kind of like vultures, flies around sh*t, you get my gist.

Steve went and showered so I went downstairs to do the same. The waves were coming in thick and fast so I ended up panicking about being sick and running upstairs. I panicked so much that I smashed my head on the hatch and slipping over into the small rail. Luckily, I didn't go overboard although I was about 1cm off. Everyone ran over to me and made sure I was ok and that I wasn't going to still end up in the water. I was fine, just panicked. I decided against a shower, for now.

We all sat on the boat chilling, listening to music before we left. Our snacks were mini sausage rolls, spring rolls and mini pies. Steve and I loved the mini pies! We ended up setting sail off to the spot for sunset and sleep. The sunset was absolutely beautiful. I took some good photos.

We anchored up in still water, luckily. I thought about going to shower loads of times but couldn't bring myself to go downstairs. I got up and forced myself down whilst the water was calm. I panicked straight away for no reason at all. I have 'muscle memory' in my mind but I'm not sure if that's correct. My body remembers things from before and automatically panics regardless of whether I need too. I'm weird though.

I showered and got dressed fast. That wasn't just because of the '60 second shower rule' either. I still felt mank though, my hair had been in the sea and I couldn't wash or condition it. Bleh. Hopefully I won't have too many dreadlocks tomorrow.

I went upstairs and waited for dinner, like everyone else. Steve and I started chatting to Dan about his first year. He worked on a cotton farm! Stuff that for a laugh! We got talking more and more to Bryan and his Mrs too. Steve, Bryan and Dan cracked open their beers and I waited for dinner first. We had only a roll plus small snacks today so having a beer wasn't going to help, I'm a lightweight as it is.

We did wait for hours for dinner mind you. It was dished up around 2000. We had BBQ chicken, mushroom pasta bake (I picked out every single mushroom), Greek salad and garlic bread. I didn't really like the chicken as the skin/fat was still left on it. I gave mine to Steve. The pasta bake was mostly mushrooms. The Greek salad was nice (we picked out the olives) and the garlic bread was the best part. I had 2 bits! Steve had seconds but as I said, I'm so picky so I don't get very far with trips that provide food.

We continued chilling out and Steve seemed to be getting through our beers quite fast, keeping up with Bryan. Around 2100, we went downstairs and sat around the table with dessert. Chocolate cheesecake. I definitely had some of that whereas Steve didn't!

We all went through the photos from the day and went through tomorrow's itinerary. We had to be up for breakfast at 0630!! I'm going to need a good holiday after these 4 weeks of holiday! Pfft.

I got myself into bed afterwards. It was 2130 and I was knackered. The sea and sun take it out of you, although I really don't need any excuse for going to bed. That's my happy place, I'm there 90% of my day! Steve stayed up with the Irish couple and played Uno. They were all drunk.

I didn't get to sleep. The noise of everyone playing and drinking kept me up, as well as the lights. It was going to be a long night...

Steve came in after about an hour. He said he felt 7/10 drunk but ask him now and he says that he's fine!

We fell asleep straight away but we were woken up at 2330 by Hannah.

Hannah must've had a nightmare because she was screaming 'HELP ME HELP ME'. Automatically, I got up straight away to help her. When she finally woke up out of it, she said she was fine. I heard Dan wake up next door and asked if everything was ok. I told him she was fine and that it was a bad dream. Hannah said she dreamt that the walls were coming in on her and she was about to drown. You can't blame her, anyone who's claustrophobic would struggle being where we were. Tiny little rooms and beds that didn't fit a pillow down flat. We were under water and heard the splashing next to us. It was weird. Steve and I said that's enough for boat trips.

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