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ribz4livers · 3 months

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A pizza doxing or a trip to the dumpster would have been so much better than this...

I am finally trying to be more comfortable sharing my writing with the general public! This is supposed to function as a small introduction to Madeline and the events leading up to her kidnapping just before where TPOF takes place. It isn't very long but depending on the reception, I do want to try my hand and writing more about her and potentially Derek (once I get over my cringe hurdles).

I hope you guys enjoy. 💖

This post contains writing! If you would like to read, please click on the "Keep Reading" below!

Madeline/content belongs to myself (ribz4livers)

TPOF belongs to @/gatobob

Word count: below 1000

🔞 MINORS DNI! 🔞 This includes AGELESS BLOGS! Failure to comply will result in a BLOCK.

“Alright guys! You know the drill, let me know what you think in the comments below or–” the girl on the screen flashes a small but toothy smile, “if you’re watching this live, blow that chat box up! I’ll see you later for my next scheduled live and trust me, you won’t want to miss it!" She held up a hand and gifted a small wave, “Bye-bye and keep yourselves safe!” Cut. That’s a wrap. Madeline leaned over her keyboard, hitting the button on her microphone to end the live audio before quickly doing the same with her webcam, cutting the hundreds of eyeballs ogling her from the shadows of the internet. She sighed, clicking her mouse and scrolling through the chat feed, reading people’s reactions to her most recent stream. “This was disgusting”, “is she actually serious?”, “troll”, etc… There were a few people singing their praises, applauding Madeline for her attention to detail when talking about the Top 5 Most Gruesome Serial Killers of Our Time!!! but she knew they were just knights in shining armor trying to get the attention of their queen. There was no research in these videos; a quick visit to any online encyclopedia and there was all the information she needed. Copy, past, action.

Even with so many people watching her when she hit that “go live” button on her screen, once she ended that stream that was it; no eyes, no reeling chat, just nothing; just her staring back at the wolfish girl in the viewfinder on her screen, all alone. Leaning back in her chair, Madeline again sighed. The reactions she got were good but were they good enough to get the attention of the reaction channels? After her last controversy, rating victims’ outfits, she really needed to step it up a notch if she wanted to keep the notoriety. “Maybe…Dateable Delinquents? No…too easy…” Madeline muttered to herself, grabbing her phone. She checked her texts. It had been over 6 hours since she had last looked at her phone anyway, right? Something had to be there by now.

“Tch…” Madeline clicked her tongue as there were no texts from anyone. Oh well, in the meantime she could go for a dose of fresh air. Maybe visit that cute café down the road and get ahead on her next script or finally start on that essay she had due today before midnight.

Making her way to the vanity, Madeline kicked a medium sized box out of the way, the useless artifacts from a time past rattling around and hopefully breaking in the process. She glanced at the box as she passed, taking note of the neatly written address on one of its half opened flaps. Clearly a woman's writing. She would have to make a trip to the apartment dumpster soon, what a fucking pain.

Once sat in front of the vanity mirror, Madeline began touching up her appearance. She already had her makeup done, never appearing on streams or videos without it, but it couldn't hurt to fix her hair and adjust her outfit in accordance with today's weather: drab and weary.

Just her and the girl in the mirror now. Her eyes were too yellow, her ears too tall, nails too thick and teeth far too sharp. Madeline flashed a smile at the glass but shame pricked her lips before they stretched too far. Well behaved girls don't bare fangs.

She began to brush her hair carefully, taking extra care to give it that desired, signature flip she was known for–at least if she had people who knew her–and for a moment thought about a time when her hair was much longer, harder to style; no, it wasn't that it was harder to style but that she wasn't allowed to style. Once again Madeline thought about that box sitting only a few feet behind her. Impulsively grabbing her phone again Madeline opened the screen. Still nothing. The phone made a loud clack as she set it back down on the table with a little more force than before and continued her grooming.

Madeline was lost in teeth, boxes, scripts but was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a door, her door, getting softly knocked. It wasn't expected but it wasn't unwelcome either. Maybe it was one of those pizza doxings she had heard so much about from her time lurking on the internet farms. The thought of someone going through all that effort just to send her a free lunch made the girl smile, fangs poking over her elongated lips. How sad were these keyboard warriors?

Another knock.

Madeline got up, doing a once over in the mirror and began making her way to the door, all smiles, "hold on, I'm coming."

Silence.

Without checking the peep hole, Madeline opened the door wide but her giddy expression clouded once she saw there was in fact no pizza, only two large bodies dressed in dark colors and obscured faces.

"Hi…Madeline?" One of them asked in a voice that sounded fake, filtered and suspicious.

There was no time for her body much less her mind to react. There was no sixth sense, no hair standing on edge and no words; and apparently these people needed no answer. Before Madeline could utter a word, she felt something pressed to her mouth, a cloth, and next there was only black–

A pizza doxing or a trip to the dumpster would have been so much better than this.

#the price of flesh #tpof #madeline #awo girl 🐺#fanwriting #text #I am trying my best #tpof oc #tpof beast kin oc #trashtubers #probably deserves to get canceled

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mvchpastel · 25 days

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heeeeey i am alive just trying my best to get through finals szn lol

#mvchpastel #my posts #i am TRYING MY BEST

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spittyfishy · 24 days

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For Kiibo, do you miss your professor?

Kiibo’s having a time and a half lol

#fellas I now have over a hundred asks in my inbox it’s going to take me a while to get to new ones #sorry in advance lol #i am trying my best #danganronpa #ndrv3 #v3 remnant au #remnants of despair #kiibo #k1 b0 #remnant kiibo #remnant ask game

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cripplecharacters · 20 days

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I recently realized that a disabled character I play falls into some iffy stereotypes, and I'm wondering if it was possible to improve the character them without entirely rewriting them, whether by tweaking their motivations or adding other traits or something (just bc I don't want to retcon 2 years of games if possible).

Is it alright if I send more details to run them by you for suggestions?

Hi, feel free to send an ask! I will try to help, but it largely depends on your character's specific disability if you will get satisfactory suggestions. But I will try to direct you to some resources if I'm unable to help otherwise.

Mod Sasza

#sparrowofsong #mod sasza #going through the inbox right now! there's a lot of asks sorry #I am Trying my best

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askthestickboyes · 6 months

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i can't tell if this is dead or just hasn't been getting asks.

CREATORS NOTE:

neither I JUST HAVE SCHOOL

AND HAVE ZERO BREAKS ANY TIME SOON

#GRAAHHHHH #please be patient #i am trying my best #ive only finished one out of 8 physical projects for this semester #id like to #not die please #and thank you #askthestickboyes #ask!stickboyes #/nm #/just exhausted

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 year

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Does anyone else hesitate to reblog because of the usual childhood traumas, or is that just me?

After decades of conditioning to not engage unless I was 105% sure someone wanted me to interact (or be mocked, called "annoying," etc.), I'm so used to quietly leaving likes and moving on that the idea of reblogging is still a little terrifying.

Like, this shit still happens on Facebook. With people I know. Let alone strangers.

So it's really, really okay to just reblog? I know the logical answer, but the conditioning is SCREAMING.

#i am trying my best #reblog most often from mutuals I know won't be mad #but seriously #not an excuse #i'm working on being a better tumblr citizen #but i still see posts and think #oh that's a cool person thing #do not touch #do not invite harm #reblogs #reblogging #tumblr biosphere

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gloomyronin · 6 months

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//Ooc post!

Hello hello! Aether here! I'm one of the four people who are "best friends" with Idia, as Disneyland employees would put it. Although recently it has mostly been me behind the majority of the account activity for the past few days.

But I have come here to talk about the roleplaying on this rp account. I love it, always enjoy the interactions and everyone who sends Idia asks. HOWEVER, I am autistic. And I sometimes genuinely cannot tell when an ask is supposed to be taken as something that's happening in person for Idia or if I'm supposed to be responding as if Idia is answering an ask online. As this account is mostly supposed to replicate a real Tumblr blog ran by the real Idia, hence all of my shitposts. Although I do still encourage roleplays that are supposed to be taking place in person with the characters. However, I have a certain way of roleplaying Idia when it's an in person interaction. For example, I'll make him stutter and I'll describe his actions with [brackets]. And I just don't bother to do that when the response supposed to be taken like a tumblr post, as he obviously wouldn't stutter over text. And that's where the struggle kicks in, because I sometimes cannot decipher if I'm supposed to respond like a text post or like Idia is verbally responding. I sometimes switch between the two rp styles randomly when I cannot tell and hope that it's the right one.

And so, I would like to propose a system to fix that problem:

The emoji indicators, putting an emoji in brackets before continuing your ask based on what type of interaction is going on so that Idia can respond accordingly!

Listed indicators:

(📱) = this is an in character text conversation

(🗣) = this is an in character verbal/in person conversation

That is all I can think of that the moment. I would make one for ooc asks, but that can easily be achieved by simply saying (//ooc) so I will not bother.

I just thought that using emojis to indicate the nature of a roleplay would not only be helpful, but also fun. So I think you for reading this, and Idia will see you in the next post!

Peace out xx

#idia shroud #twisted wonderland #ask idia ig #ask blog #i am trying my best #op moment #Yippeeeee

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mysticstoryteller · 1 month

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#riordanverse #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo fandom #i am trying my best

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kians-korner · 2 months

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Yo dudes!!

Name’s Kian, Kian stone. Rand said I’d be a “tumblr sexy man” Like. whatever that means.

Just here to hang and talk about rock music I LOVE ROCK N ROLL MAN

#Kian answers

Answer any questions n stuff!

#Kian talking

original thoughts…

#rockin with Kian

Rock n roll posting dude

#kian posting

Rebloggin stuff!

// things ab the admin :)

She/her

19 years old

Not sure where I am placing this in the tl but I’m just having fun fr

I’m down to collab and stuff on lore :D

I am a big nightmare blunt rotation girl its got me cheering

#//ooc tags #jrwi #jrwi rp #Kian stone #please be nice if I am #ooc #i am trying my best #Kian answers #Kian talking #Rockin with Kian #Kian posting

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i-am-very-human · 17 days

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#i am sorry #i cannot return all the boop spam #i am trying my best #please do not be discouraged #boop away!

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exulzae · 7 months

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In case anyone is wondering why the jack spicer charms + other merch is taking so long. Also I just started school again 💀

#I am trying my best #xiaolin showdown #jack spicer

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hamilgodd · 8 months

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Part 1/2

Mick Schumacher & Lewis Hamilton

Found family, fluff, hurt/comfort.

They deserves nice things.

+ 1500 words

He watched the track with a smile, the blurred spots that were the cars when passing at full speed trying to be the best, to overcome marks and times to earn a place that everyone had well deserved.

The Garage behind him was full of life, of people coming and going; mechanics preparing everything, engineers reviewing the data... all helping, contributing something so that the team could succeed.

Everything was fine, everything was perfect.

So why did he feel that way? Why did he feel like he was underwater? Like the sun didn’t shine for him that morning? He felt disconnected, numbed; as if he was living on autopilot, barely surviving.

He felt the tears crowding in his eyes asking to come out, but he knew that once he started crying he couldn’t stop and he didn’t want to break there, in the middle of everyone. In the place where he would receive the most criticism, where thousands of eyes would see his wounded heart and whisper hurtful words as they always did.

«It’s the best, it’s the best, it’s the best» was the only thing that was repeating in his head. That was the best he could do, the best for everyone. To go with dignity, when he still had the opportunity; when he still had that motivation.

Taking one last look at the monitors, he smiled when he saw that George was marking perfect times and his smile grew when he noticed that Mick was finally finding how to drive the car getting the best of himself.

He still didn’t know what it would be, what was the next step for him. But Lewis was sure that everything would be better when the sun came out in the morning and he could see it from a distant place to where it was now.

He was so involved in his thoughts that he didn’t notice how that piece of paper that he so jealously kept in one of his pockets ended up on the floor. He didn’t notice the fact that someone lifted the wrinkled sheet and ran away as soon as he finished reading it.

It was nice to share moments of tranquility with his colleagues, laugh and remember good times without the pressure of wanting to prove to be the best. Maybe it was because they had already grown up, matured enough to let go of those senseless grudges and anger.

Everyone had achieved it, they were fulfilling their dreams. They were drivers for renowned teams and every weekend they fought to win; but what happens on the track stays on it and little by little they found the way back to the friendship they lost by letting themselves be carried away by the anger of those past moments.

Mick felt that that was his second home and he loved to be already in the garage watching the race with Toto or hours in the simulator back in the factory, looking for the best configuration so that they could win every possible advantage. He was part of a team and wanted to help in any way he could... he was part of a team that had a special meaning for him.

Every moment was a new one to appreciate everything; the days were never boring, there was always something to do, a new exercise; a new secret. A new memory to do or what to listen to.

The laughter of those present when listening to one of those rare but charming anecdotes that he shared with Max and his father was what he listened to loudly. The Dutchman finished telling the details with an excited expression, moving his hands up and down and trying to make everyone have the same image of what was happening in his memory.

The softness of the cushions under him and the soft murmur of the conversation were lulling him. Taking him one step away from entering the kingdom of Morpheus and forgetting about reality, leaving it aside and simply getting lost in that world where nothing was impossible.

His breathing was slow and he felt like a blanket was put on him. He curled up covering himself as much as possible with it, inhaling the smell so familiar but so distant at the same time. He was at home, Mick was fine.

Or so he thought until Lando came running.

Agitated breathing, intelligible words and waving a hand, where you could see it was carrying a crumpled paper.

“Did you know?” He asked George almost immediately, who looked at him with doubt, “you have to, you are his teammate...”

If Mick had already moved away from the warm embrace of the world of dreams, he ended up escaping definitively when the McLaren driver said that.

“You have to be a little more specific, because I know many things” silence reigned in the rest of them, not knowing exactly what was happening but understanding that Lando’s state was not just an exaggeration of it.

They could see how disbelief, uncertainty, sadness and above all anger appeared in their eyes.

Russell took the piece of leaf that was offered to him, read it once, twice, three times and it seemed that he still didn’t understand what he was saying. He didn’t understand what was happening or didn’t want to do it. He dropped on the back of his chair, a dry blow as if they had cut all the ropes that supported him.

“No... I didn’t know,” he pinched the bridge of his nose trying to regulate the tide of emotions that now overwhelmed him; “nobody knows. Toto would have already said something, or at least rumors would have begun to circulate inside the garage... but there is nothing.”

Alternating his view from Lando to George as if he were watching a game of ping-pong, Mick tried to understand everything with the little they really said. And because of the confused looks of the rest of those present, they were all in the same.

It was Russell who, after long minutes that felt like hours, broke the silence formed.

“Lewis is going to resign,” he said in a whisper as if he was also unable to fully understand what he was saying. “This is,” he waved the paper that was now in his hands, “a letter in which he terminates his contract with immediate effect”

The feeling was similar to when he enter the sea and the cold water collides with his warm body. Emptiness, fear, not knowing what to do. Everything in him was frozen; everything in him was silent. Not a single thought, not a single idea of what to do, how to act.

“Are you sure?” Max’s voice trembled slightly, because despite everything that had happened, despite everything the press said, the two of them were friends. Verstappen released a couple of words in dutch that showed his feelings at that time.

“Do you think it’s because of the renovation?” Albon asked shyly, “or maybe he’s going to change teams...” he tried to give hope to everyone present.

But they knew that their words, no matter how beautiful they were, were lies. Everyone knew that the day Lewis decided to retire, it would be the end point of his spectacular career. No one could - nor wanted to - believe that it would be so soon.

They spent the rest of the afternoon not knowing what to do, devising plans to face Lewis and at least ask him for explanations. And until the sky was dyed black, everyone went to their hotel, to rest and look for something, a solution; courage for the other day.

Except Mick.

Mick who couldn’t let another minute go by without going to ask him what was happening. Mick who had that strange feeling in his chest, Mick who felt that time was running out. Mick who ended up in front of the door of the room where the Briton was staying at that Grand Prix.

He doubted his actions, maybe he was exaggerating everything. Perhaps it was very hasty to go and demand clarifications that did not correspond to him. Maybe Lando found an old paper that Lewis signed in an outburst but that he never thought of carrying out.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

His body acted on its own, guided by the desires of his heart. And in the end he was grateful for having trusted his instinct, because as soon as the door was opened he could see Lewis’ surprised and tired face. As well as the fact that he was not wearing pajamas but a dark hoodie while he was surrounded by suitcases.

He was ready to go.

Lewis was ready to leave in the middle of the night without saying anything.

The kind and tentative words that Mick had prepared were forgotten; the temper and calm that he had collected were left behind. The fury clouded his sight, he was shaking.

He entered the room without asking permission, pushing Lewis while he saw him worried. That made him more angry, how did he dare? With what right he believe he had to do that? How could he even decide to leave everything without warning and then come and be afflicted by Mick?

“What’s going on? Are you hurt? Do you need help—“ the older driver words were left adrift because the German didn’t let him say anything else.

“HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU LEAVE EVERYTHING WITHOUT CARING ABOUT OTHERS?” Mick shouted without caring about anything else.

“What are you talking about?”

“REALY YOU DON’T WANT IT ANYMORE? EVERYTHING HAS BECOME SO BORING THAT YOU WANT TO GIVE UP?” Mick’s face was taking on reddish tones that stood out because of his pale skin.

“Mick...” Lewis tried to calm him down without much success.

“Lando found your resignation letter, do you really want to leave?” The sobs found the way to freedom. “Are you going to leave me too?”

That last question was the one that broke the British’s heart. Who never thought about that, who never thought about being so important to the young man as to be so affected by the possibility of his departure.

“You are an amazing pilot, you are a legend. You still have to break my dad’s record and teach me how. Lewis, you can’t leave, you can’t leave me too...” painful memories flooded his head.

Maybe the world didn’t know it as such, but Lewis Hamilton was someone important in his life.

“Mick...” and finally they ended up in a hug. There in the middle of the room, surrounded by suitcases and ready to go; Lewis reconsidered the situation.

That’s when he finally understood it.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula uno #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh44 #formula one #f1 fic #mick schumacher #found family #lewis is going to act as the paternal figure Mick needs #there cant be comfort without a bit of angst #i am trying my best #hope u like it

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