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unreadpoppy · 1 year

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My thoughts on the semi final 2:

Oh shit it’s 16 acts today.

I don’t speak French but I love hearing Hannah speak it.

Denmark:

I always have low expectations for Denmark, cause I’ve hated all their songs in more recent years. Love the birds chirping but I can’t understand a single word (when will singers open their mouths to sing?). Love the outfit and the staging seems interesting, but I need a wider view. Honestly, if someone’s not singing a ballad, I think it’s weird to put the singer all alone on stage. Like there’s no need to have a full dance routine, but at least some interactions would be fun (like the three dancers on the back during Soldi). Idk it feels awkward seeing this singer all alone.

OH MY GOD THE ICELAND BAND FROM 2021 IS BACK????? IM SEEINF THE DUDE IN THE GREEN ROOM AAAAA

Armenia:

Already love this girls hair. Damn, the stage designer really likes pink, don’t they? (Not complaining, I love pink). She sounds good. I think here the singer all alone looks better, but I think a few dancers would still make it more interesting. Okay what’s up with the random break dance that is just… weird? Israel did the same and it was so weird. This one looked better but still… Okay now that the song picked up near the end, it sounded great. Might give it a listen to it later.

Romania:

Not the goddamned beetles statue. A CLOWN CARRIAGE STATUE? I LOVE IT. I already love their vibes, just from this postcard. Sometimes I forget Romanian is also a Romance language and I’m like why I can lowkey understand the sounds (because some of them sound really similar to a few Portuguese phonemes). Nooo, not the English. Okay this got bad real quick. Okay this song is bad. Some parts of it are good but the rhythm is a problem. The lady dancer finally showed up. Also, I think if they just went for a weirder/crazier act through the whole song it would be better, cause the slightly trying to sensualize was… not working.

Estonia:

Okay this girl’s brave for walking in that tower. Not a ghost playing this piano (really liked this effect). I love the pretending to play instruments every year because we all know they are not live. I’m in love with this singers vocals. Uuuuh the ground changing when she moved her hand, nice. Did they put all the ballads on the second semi and all the weirder acts on the first??? Okay this song feels like it went on for too long.

Belgium:

Finally, a group of people and not just a solo! This singer looks like your gay uncles (affectionate). Okay already love this. It looked like it would be a ballad but it became more of a disco vibe, also love the outfit. THE DRAG QUEENS ON THE SCREEN! Loving this vibe, definitely a song I’ll listen afterwards. THE VOGUING/ BALLROOM YES BITCH!!! HE REALLY IS YOUR GAY UNCLE VIBES!

Hannah don’t do the commentators like that! The picture of them young oh my god. Not Graham saying it’s all quiet on the UK booth. Graham Norton is one of the few reasons I would want to be in the UK, just so I could listen to his commentary real time.

Are these the flying a flag group? Jesus, they used to vote on paper??? Like Americans???

Cyprus:

The act Greece can give 12 points to in the final. Always love a good autotuned high note in the beginning. I can already tell “you can break a broken heart” will be stuck in my head. This guy doesn’t give me the vibes of singer who will do it shoeless but I guess he is that kind of performer.

Iceland:

Okay I guess the “how does it keep getting better” band is only there as moral support. Now I see is a completely different person who’ll sing. Also really like these vocals however not a fan of the lyrics (or the song in general). Again, ler theses singers interact with someone else. The random kick was definetly a choice. One of the reasons I like when people bring songs in their own language is because I don’t have to head the words flower, power and shower rhymed. She gives me heterotop vibes and I don’t know that I like it.

Greece:

Amazing how both Greece and Cyprus sent dudes who look like esquerdomachos. Damn the singers this year really want to lay on the floor don’t they? I do think the words being written in Greek and the letters on the Greek alphabet showing up is a nice touch. However, I cringe so much when the signers face shows up gigantic on the screen. What’s up with these vocals? Jesus Christ man. Also this attempt at dance fighting… just stop. Okay where is a goddamned vocal coach to tell these people to not fucking crouch down when signing. You don’t sing as good as you can when your diaphragm is folded!

Poland:

Someone on tumblr said not to vote for Poland cause the whole thing to choose the song was rigged as fuck and that’s not the song poles wanted to sent to represent them. Jesus the vocals are bad. Last years guy did not break the non qualifying strike of the past years for Poland to do this. This perfomance is so boring. Like it feels unoriginal, the song is not even a dancing song. Y’all, I blame Chanel for all these ladies doing dance breaks this year. Cause like, at least Chanel was a good dancer and it looked good, but all the ones I’ve seen so far this year have been bad. Like really bad, or at least not appeasing to the eye.

Slovenia:

Okay finally the tenth act, cause Jesus this semi final is being very bad. Okay this looks like it’s gonna be fun. The wink…they give me awkward in the body vibes, but song sounds good. Love the guitar solo. Did he lick the camera???? This was okay. At least better than Poland.

Georgia:

Strong beginning. She sounds better when she’s “””””shouting”””” (it’s not shouting, but I’m not sure it’s belting, but you get what I’m saying), the other parts she sound like she’s singing in cursive and I hate cursive singing. Okay this part with the jing and the little hand thing she did was fun. Now this is some good belting.

They got Luke Evans to do this??? Holy shit. Sometimes I forget you Brits call television “telly”. Yugoslavia won on the year the Berlin Wall fell??? Holy shit. I cannot believe someone wrote a full monologue about eurovision for Luke Evans, LUKE EVANS, to act.

San Marino:

Idk one of these guys reminds me of a guy sopranista who, when asked how he reached such high notes, said he was Jewish and when they circuncized him, they cut his balls (it was a joke btw). The lead singer is hot but do you know what is not hot? These vocals. And these lyrics. Mate, I can see your vein about to pop on your forehead. This is bad.

Someone please bring back Croatian village people and flusforecent goth, please shake this thing up.

Austria:

Is this the song about Edgar Allen Poe?

Your honor, you can’t convince they’re not girlfriends. Besides the repetition of “Poe”, the song sounds pretty fun. Girl, don’t shout to the audience while the other one is singing. The vocals are pretty good, finally. By the way, I liked their act, but I think it should have been more unhinged. I liked it more because of the song itself, but the perfomance (which give it or take is very important) was bland.

Albania:

Will we get a woman screaming again? We will. I love that Albania’s stage lighting is always the colors of their flag. Oh they are not the back up singers, this is like a group. They spent all their budget on the main lady’s outfit, cause the other women look like they shopped at Shein.

Lithuania:

Fun fact about me: I hate the color Orange, so you can tell how much I loved this outfit (sarcasm). Y’all, I don’t hate ballads, but all the ballads so far have been so underwhelming, Jesus Christ. They sound like something I’ve heard another 300 times. It’s like some generic pop ballad made for teenagers. DONT STOP SINGING TO SHOUT TO THE AUDIENCE JESUS CHRIST, IT WONT GAIN YOU VOTES. I hate the way the backing vocal ladies are placed, they look like a school choir, or Montenegro in 2019.

Australia:

Aussies, I’m counting on you. I forget they speak English in Australian, why did I think they would sing in another language??? Back to the future called, they want their delorian back. Sigh. At least I like the main singers hair. At least the random heavy metal growl was fun. The guitar solo at the end was the best part.

The performances are over thank god.

It’s gonna be hard to make a top 10 when I’ve disliked 99% of the acts today. And also I’ve forgotten ALL of them besides Belgium.

What the fuck is Peppa Pig doing here???

Y’all remember how this was supposed to be about Ukraine? It doesn’t seem like it. I mean sure it’s in Liverpool, but it’s not like Ukraine choose to not host for random reasons.

Finally, some singing in Ukranian. Also like how they have what I guess are historical Ukrainians in their clothes and on the screen. This act is better than 14 of the competing acts today.

Oh my god the Christmas song, I love it, and in these singers voice it sounds even better. I feel like I’ve seen the girl on the star somewhere before. Was she the one who sang 1944 on The Voice?

Oh nice to know that the Carol of the bells were originally sung by a ukranian choir.

Also let’s all play pretend and act like Hannah didn’t have a long time to learn how to say that one phrase in Ukrainian.

Okay the replay is reminding me how much I hated most of the acts, Jesus.

OH MY GOD THEY BROUGHT DRAG QUEENS! HELL YEAHS! I love how like Ukraine’s flag only has 2 colors so whenever you have a trio, they make the third person wear black or white. Y’all we know they lip syncing, they don’t need the microphones.

Gotta love how non-lusophones always mess up Portuguese names.

EASTERN EUROPEAN FUNK YOU WERE ROBBED YOU SHOULD HAVE QUALIFIED ALL THOSE YEARS AGO BABES

Y’all did they only put non qualifiers for this game? I spoke too soon, finally someone who qualified, Sax guy!

“This was a hit in sweden”

“This was a hit????”

I’m not proud about how I got all of these right.

I see adorable kids by themselves and my first instinct is “WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS”. Not them messing with the trophy kkkkk

Not the Ukranian guy wearing sun glasses inside. Y’all you know these people are singers because if they relied on their “”secret”” talents they’d be fucked (the Spaniard’s talent was literally clapping and stomping the ground ffs).

Spain said “we’ll be weird and conceptual this year” which okay I guess.

Now they’re both wearing sun glasses. Oooh, so that’s what the hearts mean.

Ukraine’s entry seems interesting. But also I guess it’s an eurovision curse (unless you’re Ireland) that the host/previous winner country usually send a not so great song.

UK stop saying that the last time you won was in 1997, it’s not gonna make you win, and it’s not like you’re Spain, who the last time they won, it was 1969 (and they shared it with 3 other countries).

Y’all, no shade to Mae, but there is no way this song is gonna do well. They really let Sam Ryder’s success get in their heads.

My ranking to todays semi:

Belgium

Austria

Armenia

Estonia

Georgia

Cyprus

Slovenia

Iceland

Australia

Albania

Lithuania

Romania

San Marino

Greece

Poland

Y’all, if Poland, Romania, Greece, San Marino and even Iceland qualify I call it Rigga Morris. Iceland is high on my list but only cause there were most worst acts.

Instead of ten, just add Belgium and Austria to the final and be done with it.

#eurovision #esc

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wisehoagiekidwobbler · 3 years

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Forms of Witchcraft

•Dolls and Poppets

Poppets are the English terms for what movies call a ‘voodoo doll’. Voodoo doll is a misnomer, and does nothing for either poppets or Haitian magic.

Poppets can be used for a couple of things – mainly either cursing or healing. This doesn’t always have to be physical curses/cures – poppets can also be used to influence thought patterns.

Dolls can also be used to provide homes for Spirits, or used to create guardians. You can also use a doll as a scapegoat to prevent a curse from latching onto you.

•Shrinemaking

Shrine making is less a way to create a defined outcome, and more a way of pleasing Spirits who you may later want to call upon. It’s kinda like taking your new neighbours a pie, in case you ever need them to watch the house whilst you’re away. The pie is an overture to a friendly relationship, not direct payment for the house sitting. However, if you just blundered into their garden one day and offered them £100 to watch the house, they’d probably tell you to get lost. Randomly calling up Spirits, Saint or Deities can have the same effect. I mean, would you help someone get a job if they just banged on your door and waved some incense at you? Get your local Spirits pies. Find out what scents, and objects, and offerings that they like. Keep the land around you clean, and pick up after other people if you can. Use your vote and your money to protect the land from logging and fracking. Build a dedicated ‘meeting space’ where you call up Spirits, and fill it full of pictures of them or things they like. It pays dividends in the future.

Shrinemaking can also be used to help bless and protect your home and land. By connecting with the other Spirits that are there, you solidify the relationship, and can work together against intruders.

•Bottles and Jars

Witch bottles (or spell jars) are fun, easy ways to create a variety of effects. As a spell base, they can be effective for:

* money

* love

* friendship

* animal work

* protection

Some people define a witch bottle as strictly the traditional version which is used as a scapegoat, and call other spells involving bottles and jars ‘spell jars’. Some people use the term witch bottle to encompass all magics involving jars.

You can learn about all types of bottle magic in the free course which you can sign up for below!

•Candles

Candle magic is a much more modern form of magic than you’d think – especially if we’re talking coloured candles. Candles were very precious objects in the past! However, it was not an unusual item to have, like a hunk of crystal or fairy doll, which is why they became an item to use for undetected witchcraft – like brooms, and cauldrons.

As candles have got cheaper and cheaper and less needed to be used for lighting, much more forms and types of magic have sprung up around them. With the addition of coloured waxes or painted candles, the sorts of magic you can do with candles has grown exponentially.

Candles are a subset of fire magic and therefore are fantastic for banishing, but they are often the beginners tool of choice. It’s easy to understand why – easy to get hold of, easy to use, and there’s as much fancy ritual needed as you feel inclined to give it.

When you want to expand your knowledge, you can still stick with candles – but investigate the use of oils, herbs and crystals in conjunction with candles.

•Crystals and Rocks

Crystals and rocks are often used as ‘ingredients’ in other spells. They are very easy to add to bottles, pouches, dolls and more. However, you can also use crystals in spell work solely on their own by adding them to your pillow, till, money box, plant pot, etc.

Their use goes much further than this, but that enters the realm of energy healing which is a part of many traditions and is a very dedicated and intensive practice all by itself, and too much to explain here.

Air

You can utilize the powers of air in a lot of ways. It’s usually good for cleansing spells – think sweeping with a ritual broom, burning incense (smoke=air, not fire), ringing bells or playing bowls, singing, using flags and wheels. Air methods tend to return quick results.

Earth

Earth brings slow results, but they tend to be larger. Earth practices include enchanting seeds that will bring you money as they grow, burying offerings in the Earth, making vessels and spells out of clay, or writing spells in the mud.

Fire

Fire can bring things into your life, but is much better used to get rid of them – for beginners, anyway. If there is anything in your life that you wish to get rid of, you can write or draw a representation of it and cast it into the fire to remove it.

Water

Water can take the longest time to bring you what you need. However, think of water pounding against a rock. Drips of water became rivers, became waterfalls. Water can often bring you the biggest results, but it may take a long time.

Water spells can include potions (see below), but can also include ritual baths, leaving offers in water, or giving up bad energy or habits to the ocean.

•Bones

Bones are a contentious subject in witchcraft. Some people will never use them, some people’s practice is not complete without them. You can actually get bones in an ethical manner, by either cleaning up roadkill yourself or paying someone to do it for you, or literally keeping the bones from your dinner!

Some uses for bones are:

* Telling the future (casting bones or lots)

* Housing the Spirit of the animal so you can work with them

* Form parts of wands or ritual jewellery or headresses

* Ingredients in pouches

Tarot, Runes and Ogham

You can use all of these fortune telling tools in spells, too! You can choose one of them that has a characteristic or represents an outcome that you’d like. So if you wanted a new job, you might choose the Ace of Pentacles. Then you could do any one of the following with it:

* Use it to focus a candle spell

* Add it to a pouch or bag spell

* Add it to a jar spell

* Use it in lieu of a sigil

* Make a vision board around it

* Even burn it! (You can get single Tarot cards for this purpose on eBay.)

•Potions and Elixirs

Potion Magic used to be a lot more popular. Whilst elixirs, tisanes and tea blends are still popular for use on yourself, the masses of recipes of potions, philtres and similar recipes have all but died out. That’s because a lot of potion magic is only to be used in desperate circumstances, like love potions and curses. The reason so many old fashioned love potions are beyond creepy and controlling is that woman’s husband was her meal ticket. If he left her, not only would she be blamed, but she would be out of a house, food and her own family probably wouldn’t take her in. She had shamed them all. (Often through no actual fault of her own.) She was literally facing public humiliation, being outcast, perhaps even starving to death – and sometimes her children along with here.

So dousing a lover or husband’s food with love potion made a lot more sense then, than it does now.

Thankfully, most of us don’t live in those circumstances any more, so a lot of philtre or potion use has died out. However, there are still some amazing things you can make to ingest yourself:

* Tea blends

* Tisanes (herbals teas)

* Bath spells

* Lunar or solar water

* Herbal Oils

Spoken Magic

Spoken Magic can be long and complicated, or very short. It doesn’t have to rhyme (but it can) it doesn’t have to flow like poetry (but it can). You can use spoken incantation to help direct energy when you’re using other methods, but you can also use it on it’s own.

Some examples of spoken magic:

* Affirmations

* Words of power

* Singing

* Ritual Offerings

* Wishes

You can even banish Spirit’s solely through your voice. Shouting ‘Leave!’ with the correct intention can be very powerful.

•Written Magic

Written magic has existed since we could write. Many cultures view writing AS magic. Think about it – 26 (or thereabouts, depends on your alphabet) tiny squiggles can become anything when placed in the right order. Dumbledore was right about the power of words.

Written magic can include:

* Petitions to Spirits

* Magic squares

* Words of power or protection

* Wishes

* Tattoos

* Rune work

Bag and Pouch Magic

There is all kinds of bag magic – from mojo bags, to more modern spell envelopes. The main idea behind bag or pouch magic is that keeping a carefully curated selection of objects together for a certain time period will produce the effects that you want. A lot of bag magic produces indefinite spells provided they are charged. Such bags usually grant the wearer protection, prosperity, luck or good health. However, there are bag magics wear a specific time limited spell is wanted – invisibility spells, hex breakers and the like.

•Enchantments and Glamours

Enchantment covers a variety of spell types, but theme of the spells are pretty much the same. Enchantment covers a lot of the old folklore kind of witchcraft – hidden worlds, changing age, changing into different animals and so on.

Enchanting something fools the viewer into believing something is there when it is not, or isn’t there when it is, or is something completely different.

Think of the Harry Potter scene where Hermione explains that the ceiling of the Great Hall isn’t a real sky, it’s just enchanted to look that way.

Real enchantment can be done for fun, but they can also be useful pieces of magic. You can enchant jewelry, clothes or makeup to bestow certain personality traits upon you. You can enchant your witchy items to look normal if you’re fearful of discovery. The possibilities are just about endless.

#grimoire #witchcraft #book of spells #wicca #book of shadows #witch #spell book #witches journal #magic book #pagan #black magic #black spells #witchy #witchy spells #beginner witch #witchblr #witchtober

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doctorprofessorsong · 3 years

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So, here is something you might like, that was supposed to be a comic but never turned into one... for some reason. (It's a little lengthy, my apologies.) It's just a lil headcanon about non-binary!Sam. A little coming out. Post-Canon. Sweet, fluffy. Enjoy <3

Dean: Heya Sammy, glad you could make it.

Sam: Of course man. How're you doing?

Dean: Pretty good. Gotta say, the idea you had with that hunter turned therapist? I don't hate it.

Sam: Oh yeah? She helped at all?

Dean: Heaps, man, heaps. ...what's up?

Sam: Nothing, there's just... there's something I wanted to talk to you about, I guess.

Dean: Yeah?

Sam: So, you know it's June.

Dean: Yes, and?

Sam: It's pride month.

Dean: Yea, Cas made me painfully aware by sticking little rainbow flags in almost all plant pots and stuffing them in random places, just so that I find them at the most random times.

Sam: That's amazing.

Dean: Sam. Between my folded shirts, folded with my socks, in the damn mugs... have you ever had coffee with a fabric flag floating in it? You can't taste the rainbow, that's for damn sure.

Sam: Well, at least the world's been notified just how gay you and Cas are for each other, and since you're doing such a fantastic job of pretending me phrasing it that way doesn't bother you-

Dean: It doesn't.

Sam: Well, good. Since you kinda... broke the mould a little already, here is the thing I wanted to say: I think I'm... I think I'd like you to use they and them pronouns some of the time when talking about me.

Dean: Oh?

Sam: Yeah, I'm... I guess I'm a little nonbinary.

Dean: Okay.

Sam: Okay?

Dean: Yeah, okay.

Sam: Are... you mad?

Dean: No, kid, why would I be mad about that? I want you happy and if this is how you're happy, then it's good shit. Those were your words when I told you about Cas and me. I'm a little surprised, maybe, but mad? Never. It don't change a thing. ...Does explain a few things, you know, now that I think about it... is that why you never let me cut your hair short?

Sam: Yeah, I guess that's part of it. Wait, how the hell would you know that'd be a part of it?

Dean: An educated guess, Sammy. I may be a bit of an ignorant ass sometimes but Cas, much as it rhymes, isn't. He's set out to 'educate me' on the lgbtq+ community.

Sam: Right, he is technically agender.

Dean: Exactly. So... what do I call you now? Is "my brother" still okay?

Sam: Honestly I'm... not sure. Between all the apocalypses, ends of the world and the like, I haven't exactly had time to explore that part of myself much. Could you substitute with "sibling" once in a while, see how I feel...?

Dean: Sure thing. And, your name? Sammy? Sam? Samantha?

Sam: Sam. And you get a pass at Sammy. Cause.

Dean: Got it. Anything else?

Sam: Uh... yeah. Don't, if you could, you know, call me "man" or "dude". Not really my thing.

Dean: Sure. Hey Sammy.

Sam: Yeah?

Dean: You know, pride or no pride. I'm happy you told me. Proud'a you.

Sam: Thanks.

Cas: Hello, Sam. Nice to see you.

Sam: Hey Cas, doing some gardening?

Dean: Yes. The peonies are coming in beautifully this year.

Dean: Can I?

Sam: Yea, go ahead.

Dean: Cas. This is my baby sibling, Sam, and I love them very much.

Cas: I know, Dean.

Dean: ...wait, what?

Cas: Sam has told me.

Dean: When?

Cas: A little while ago.

Dean: ...nobody tells me anything.

Omg this was the best. Absolutely adorable and sweet and perfect. Plus the big brother & parent vibes.

Also I love that Sam is in the middle of a journey (gender is an essay question, not a true/false question 💙💖🤍💖💙).

This definitely made me smile.

Send me some positivity giveaway

#nonbinary sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #cas

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nastyatticman · 3 years

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If Slashers had horny Tumblrs...

What it says on the tin! HC post for if Jason, Bubba, Brahms, & Billy (Lenz) had their own tumblrs for horny content. (18+ only)

If you like these, feel free to send a request for other characters if you want :D

Contains : adult content, discussions of kink & brief mention of sexual harassment

Jason Voorhees

Very barebones bio that gives some basic info - his age, his gender/pronouns, and a warning this blog contains adult content.

Doesn’t get updated often, and it’s usually all at night. Mostly consists of content he reblogs from different creators (artists/sex workers, etc)

Don’t expect a fancy theme or anything - he only uses his phone for horny content since he shares a computer with his sweet old boomer mom.

A good mix - largely pictures people post of themselves or art he likes. Sometimes he’s in a Mood and reblogs a bunch of very specific kinky posts - text posts with affirmations from doms, risqué art, gif sets of people in gear.

He doesn’t have a huge following or anything, just a handful of mutuals and spam bots he doesn’t clear out frequently. But when he posts anything he thinks could be too intense he makes sure to tag it with warnings, just in case.

Sometimes leaves little compliments for people - he’s usually too shy to message people directly but he’ll reblog their posts and say nice things in the tags. Nothing too forward, usually things like “you look so handsome here!”

Bubba Sawyer

Makes sure not to put any identifying info but he usually puts his age/vague age range (“in my 30s”) because people ask for that.

A collection of stuff he likes, mostly pictures or gifs or the odd video or audio post.

A lot of mostly vanilla content - again, what turns him on, what he can jerk it to easily. Stuff he can focus on when he’s really trying to get off. I feel like he’s more likely to reblog a gif set of people just going at it or pictures of a hot person in lingerie or cute undies than anything with too much of a kink/fetish focus. But not always.

I’m not sure if our Bubba can read/write very well so I can’t see him reblogging or writing long text posts, but there will be a few short ones here and there.

He’s a little too nervous to post intimate pics publicly but I can see him on a very very confident day posting pics of just his hands after seeing people talk abt how they like strong hands.

Again, doesn’t write a lot, so he doesn’t add comments to reblogs or anything

He may leave nice things in tags tho! Like Jason he sometimes leaves little compliments for people whose content he reblogs (ur dress is so pretty!). Sometimes he tags things with certain emojis that seem to have some kind of meaning… a mood he’s in… or maybe they remind him of someone he likes?

Brahms Heelshire

VERY detailed very organized pinned post with info about him including a list of his kinks, and what interactions he wants/doesn’t want. Also, places to send him tribute. Not that he needs the money, of course, but he wouldn’t mind if you got him something off his wishlist. (Wink wink nudge nudge.)

I see him as a switch who leans heavily towards submissive with a bratty streak. However people tend to assume he’s more dominant since he reblogs more dom centered text posts (he’s usually imagining he’s the sub in those scenarios).

Has a decent following since he will periodically produce a lot of original content - mostly text posts, or audio, and the occasional picture where his face is obscured and no naughty bits are showing directly. He errs on the side of caution since he doesn’t want to get struck down by the tumblr nipple police, and also because are you kidding me his family has a reputation to uphold, he can’t afford to get caught

Tumblr is his main horny platform of choice because he finds it easier to organize content he likes into an archive, and there’s more privacy. He tried making an nsfw account on other platforms before, but because of linked accounts and email fuckery he got recommended to follow a family friend and nearly shat himself. (He has a good handle on privacy and he knows that person couldn’t find him - he double checked his privacy settings after that - but it still scared him off that website, at least for that purpose.)

Because he has a decent following he also has a few mutuals he’s messaged periodically. He’s varying degrees of close - some only know him from his posts, some know his main tumblr, some may even be following him on other platforms as “long distance friends”

Every once in a while debates about having his own server for his simps followers, but he’s not sure about using his discord where he keeps in touch with friends/family for it or making a new one. You’re welcome to message him if you’re mutuals or you send him some cash first ❤️

Billy Lenz

What do you mean, “horny on main”? What, like you have an alt?

His blog is like, 98% porn but every once in a while he’ll reblog a non porn post to get into an argument.

“You sure have a lot of opinions on Canadian politics for a hentai blog 🤔”

Mostly an archive of stuff he finds hot at the time, without rhyme or reason - reblogs, links to other websites, etc. mostly chaos, but it seems like every once in a while he tries to have some kind of tagging system.

He sometimes posts original content - sometimes rambling text posts about the kind of sex he wants to have, very rarely pictures of himself. that he deletes immediately after in fear of getting flagged.

When it comes to audio posts… the Moaner lives up to his name. Although he’s not skilled with recording - clearly doing it on his phone - His audios aren’t half bad if you can find them. Usually captioned with something about how he made them or what he was thinking about when he made them.

Let’s be real, canon Billy had like no concept of consent. Or just didn’t care, because he wanted to scare and intimidate people. He’s definitely been blocked by people for sending creepy messages/asks or adding unwanted captions to their posts. When he wants to hit on someone in a way that means they may reciprocate, he’s nicer, but people are still (understandably) put off by him.

At his most polite though, he’d be the type to send an ask to someone saying he hopes they come to Toronto so that he can eat their hot pink cunt and make them cum on his thick tongue and fat, juicy cock. (This is regardless of factors like their actual location, whether or not they have a cunt, or travel guidelines due to the pandemic.)

#slasher fandom #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer #brahms heelshire #billy lenz #slasher imagines #lemon #nsft #noises from the attic #first post like this im nervous #who would u follow tho? i can see myself following brahms tbh #nasty attic originals

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 4 years

Text

Cardigan | Jon Snow

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader

Genre: Angst with fluff at the end

Warnings: —

Words: ~3k

Prompt: Based on Cardigan by Taylor Swift. I’m not sure if that translates, but it’s all I listened to when writing this so there’s that.

Note: Want to be tagged in my future works when I post?? Link is in my Bio! ♡ Also, I like -- love Jon a lot...?? And I want more content, so feel free to request more Jon content.

Winterfell was always unbearably cold, something you never got used to, despite living in the North your whole life. But despite the biting cold that left you feeling like you were seconds away from frostbite and minutes away from turning in a statue of ice, you loved it. You were enraptured by snowflakes that lazily glided down the sky, nearly iridescent when the faint rays of the sun would hit them. They’d land in your hands, melting within an instant, turning to small water droplets that would slip through your fingers. Your dark hair was a startling contrast to the white blanket surrounding you, your pale skin glowing in the light, making you look otherworldly.

As a child you’d run through it, as wild as the direwolves north of The Wall, running through fields covered in ice, no rhyme or reason. A ferocious yell leaving your mouth just because you felt like it, not restrained by the obsession of being civil and proper. But you were older now, no longer that wide eyed naive girl, instead of running freely, you kept it hidden deep inside you, only visible in a glint in your eyes.

You still often find yourself as far from Winter Town as you could, hiding away in the depths of the Godswood. However, instead of chasing imaginary battles against dragons, you chased shadows that were just as distant as your dreams. Their hair so dark it could be mistaken for black, but you’ve seen the sunlight hit it just right, exposing the soft and wild curls as a dark brown. Deep brown eyes bore into your soul, seeing right through every layer that surrounded you and hid your true feelings and ambitions. And his voice was deep, the Northern brogue only enhancing how hoarse it could sound, and sometimes when he spoke, you swore your whole body would tremble. He’d deny it over and over again, but standing in the Godswood, the crimson red leaves dancing around him and crowned by snowflakes, he looked beautiful.

Some days you danced around each other, mimicking the movements of the Lords and Ladies in lavish balls neither of you would ever be let into. You moved towards him and he took two steps back, making declarations about how unhappy you’d be with him, how he’d never give you what you needed. But by the end of the night, when the sun was completely gone, the woods around you plunged into darkness, he’d crack. He’d stop fighting, if only for a moment, and allow himself to drown in you. He’d pull you so close to him that two blended into one. Your lips would meet in soft and slow kisses, stars clouding your eyes. And when you burned from the cold, ice numbing your whole body, he’d pull you even closer, if that was possible, lighting you on fire with a single smile.

And it was nice, sneaking away from your parents and all the noise that surrounded you. Every stolen moment with Jon was built under a delusion that the outside world wasn’t real, an illusion that one day you could be more than an illicit affair. And each time you met, you told yourself that it was the last time, but you lied. Despite knowing everything the two of you built; every quiet moment under the stars, each second tucked away in the Godswood, and every secret glance would crumble until it was nothing but a ruin.

Even with that knowledge, the day you watched Jon leave for The Night’s Watch stung more than ice ever could, burnt you more than dragon fire would have. And as you stood hidden away, watching him with tears threatening to pour down your face, you swore your chest was hollow. He gave you one last look, filled with longing, sorrow, and all sorts of other emotions. You wanted to be furious at him, scream and yell until everyone knew that he was leaving you behind. But you couldn’t. You’d seen the sad look in his eyes, the scars covering his body from the mental and emotional lashing Lady Catelyn gave him with just a glance. How beat down he really was, truly believing he couldn’t be anything more than a bastard. And despite how many times you drew stars around his scars, no matter how permanent the ink was, nor how many you drew, they would bleed again the second you two departed.

So instead of making a scene, you just smiled sadly, wiping away any stray tears as you waved him farewell. To this day, your mother still doesn’t know why you cried so much that day.

Shortly after Jon left, Lord Stark was imprisoned in King’s Landing, accused of committing treason against Joffrey Baratheon. And before you could register what happened, Robb Stark became King of the North and marched off to war. Then Theon came back, declaring that Winterfell belonged to the Iron Islands, forcing Bran and Rickon out of Winterfell. And you wanted to go with if only to keep them safe for Jon, but they didn’t even know who you were. And each day, you regret your decision to stay when the news that Theon killed the Stark boys reached you. Your parents were horrified, your brothers and sisters mortified, and you soaked your pillow in tears that night, knowing the news would reach Castle Black and Jon would be devastated.

But then worst of all was when the Bolton’s came to Winterfell after murdering Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark, and any remaining Stark soldiers at The Red Wedding. They swept into the hold as if it was always House Bolton’s, quickly getting rid of any signs the wolves ever lived there. Statues were torn down, flags burned, and anything with a wolf destroyed. Then came Little Finger with Sansa Stark, marrying her off to Ramsey Bolton, who proved to be worse than his father in every way possible. And every time you saw the fear and desolation in her once sparkling blue eyes, you died a little on the inside. You wanted to help, but what could you do. So you just watched, millions of words caught in your throat.

But then the dark storm that drenched you in heavy rains that nearly swept you away, bringing lightning that nearly stuck you and thunder that frightened away all your sanity suddenly cleared. Warm and bright daylight washed over you, as bright and powerful as a Dornish sun. The sun burned out any signs of rain every being there, the intense heat drying out the water left behind. Suddenly the leaves grew back, more vibrant than ever, and wildflowers in every shade possible blossomed overnight.

Jon came back.

He came back with an army to reclaim Winterfell and the North for House Stark. And he won. Miraculously beating back Ramsay Bolton’s army with the help of the Knights of the Vale brought by Sansa after she escapes from Winterfell. After the battle was won and the dead collected to be buried or burned, the Lords and Ladies of the North gathered with the Wildlings that fought for Jon in the Main Hall. You’re not sure what happened, you weren’t allowed in, too busy trying to return to your old normal before you lived every day in fear.

But what you do know is Jon walked in that hall as a bastard and walked out a King.

You should’ve been elated, beaming so brightly you could’ve been mistaken for the sun. But you were petrified, petrified that you’d spent all these years missing Jon, only for him to have moved on. Scared that all those nights you flipped between crying, reminiscing, and cursing his name would’ve been wasted.

So you hid like a coward. You buried yourself in anything you possibly could, taking on any task no matter how big or small. And it worked for a while, the pain in your chest every time you saw his wild hair and deep brown eyes in your mind wasn’t as raw when you were elbow deep in dishes. But late at night, when you had nothing but your thoughts, he was there. Every second you’d lie awake because whenever you’d close your eyes, he was there, haunting you like a phantom.

So here you are now, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots as you approached the clearing in the Godswood. You moved towards the place you avoided for years, looking for the one person you wanted more than anything but could never have. Except maybe now you could. And maybe you were just sleep deprived, delirious in the brain from the lack of sleep, but you wanted nothing more than to see the face that’s haunted you for years, at least one more time. Because even if he sent you away, you could have a new image to see in your dreams.

Standing in the center of the clearing-- your clearing, it brought a twinge of hope, a warm feeling washing over your body as your heart raced, possibilities and what-ifs running through your head. He isn’t the shadow he was all those years ago, both there and not at the same time, no, he’s too real for that now. Standing in the center of the snow filled clearing, surrounded by barren trees and crunchy leaves that are scattered on the ground, he looks too regal to be compared to a shadow. The heavy fur cloak, similar to the one Lord Stark had worn, and Robb after him, looked good on him, framing his broad shoulders and strong posture. And maybe you were biased, but he wore it the best out of all the previous Lords and Kings of Winterfell.

You're at the edge now, unable to move any closer in fear of breaking the spell he cast on you. But then he turned and your eyes met, his gaze like flint, catching you on fire in an instant. His skin was paler than ever, cheeks flushed and rosy from the cold. Long unruly curls have been cut shorter than it had been all those years ago, contained by a small bun near the nape of his neck. He was older, more scars marring his visible flesh, but it was him and he was real.

You stare at him and he looks back, neither of you doing anything else.

And you swear the world paused, time standing still has you tried to comprehend that he was really here, and not a figment of your imagination. He wasn’t a delusion you created to cope with the lowest points of your life.

He was real.

You were running. And so was he. Within a second, you met in the middle, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into him, lifting your smaller form off the ground as he spun you in circles. The heavy cloak was warmer than you’d initially thought, the expensive furs immediately warming up your frozen skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on so tightly because you were afraid he'd slip through your fingers as he did all those years ago. The very tips of your fingers bury themselves into his hair, pulling it free from the leather cord that kept it back. And this moment was better than anything you could’ve envisioned, his smell: leather, sword polish, and something woody, more enthralling than you remembered.

He sets you back on the ground but doesn’t release you from his embrace and you didn’t pull away. A laugh bubbled out of your mouth, it was light and airy and happy, something you hadn’t been for years now. There was a glimmer in your eyes, the same one you’d seen reflected in Jon’s eyes so many times before. Your face hurt from the grin that was on your face the second you met in an embrace and he mirrored you, leaning his head down, resting his forehead against your own.

“You came back to me,” you whispered, moving your hands from his neck to hold his face in yours. As if to further convince yourself that he was here, with you at this moment. Thumbs trace his cheekbones, running over the scar that followed his right cheekbone.

“How could I not?” he replied, his raspy voice low and husky, much older than the boy of seventeen you said goodbye to.

“I hoped you would everyday, but I-- I couldn’t--” your voice trailed off, the words getting caught in your throat.

“But now I’m back.”

“And now you’re back,” you replied, looking up at him with a soft smile. The seconds tick by, silence swallowing you whole as you just bask in his presence, memorizing each new mark on his face.

“I missed you.” Your voice cut through the silence as your eyes grew wet, glistening tears that shined like ice in the sun falling down your face. Jon catches them as they fall, wiping them away with a single swipe of his thumb. And then the small distance that was left between the two of you closed as your lips met. And it was warm and soft and gentle and happy. Everything you missed from your life, returned in a single instant. And it’s like all the sleepless nights, the tear stained pillows, and the fear and horror you’d endured through the years that was muffled by the coming of daylight was completely washed away. The only thing on your mind was Jon and his lips on yours.

He pulled away, but only just enough that the tips of your lips would brush against each other’s and his breath fanned across your face. You kept your eyes closed, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“You were always there with me, gods I could never get you out of my head,” he whispered, brushing his lips lightly against yours. A shiver overcame your body, starting from the very top of your head until it hit down to your toes. A good tingly sensation that disappeared with him, but also returned with him.

“Glad to know it wasn’t just me, Snow.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss. It was like drinking a sweet berry wine the Southerners were so fond of or having a sweet tart that you stole from the kitchen. The sensation was addicting. The world could crumble around you; Cersei Lannister could march her whole army on Winterfell and Daenerys Targaryen could swoop down with her dragons and burn everything to the ground. But it wouldn’t matter, it would never matter to you. Not if you had Jon.

“Marry me,” the words left his mouth nonchalantly like he hadn’t just proposed marriage. Your eyes snapped open, looking at him, shock and excitement mingling in your wide eyes.

“What?” Your voice was shaky and unsure, hiding the pounding of your heart and the nerves in your body.

“Marry me, be my wife, and rule the North with me!” he exclaimed, much more confident in his words as they echoed around you, forever imprinted in the trees in the Godswood. And you couldn’t help but compare him to the old Jon you knew, the one who would never dare utter those words to you. Not that you didn’t want him to.

“You're crazy,” you breathed out, laughter and disbelief lacing each word. And he laughed, it was loud and warm and made your stomach twist in the best ways possible.

“Maybe, but I’m crazy for you. Why should I wait when I’ve loved you since I was a boy who didn’t even know what love was,” he said, weaving his arms around your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible. And the scene was similar to all the previous times you stood in this spot, too intertwined in each other to care about the world. Except this time tragedy didn’t hang over you like a storm, this time there was nothing but bright skies and sunlight.

“Okay,” you whispered against his lips. “I’ll marry you.” A beaming smile overtook your face, banishing any negative emotion that lingered on your face. At that moment, Jon wore if anyone ever asked, he’d say he has been to the South. And it wouldn’t be a lie, because the smile on your face and the vibrancy in your gleaming eyes was brighter than the sun could ever be, warming him to the very core. You leaned forward, sealing your promise with a kiss as you got lost in him, over and over again.

And when I felt like an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.

o0o0o0o

Tags:

@stuckupstucky

#jon snow imagine #jon snow one shot #jon snow x reader #jon snow #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones oneshot #a song of ice and feels

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hatari-translations · 4 years

Text

Dancer interview on A Song Called Hate - translation

This interview in Fréttablaðið, published the day after the premiere of A Song Called Hate (but taken before it), features Andrean, Sólbjört and Ástrós discussing the film, their experiences in Israel and Palestine, the stress of the spotlight, and their passion for human rights.

A difficult reckoning after Eurovision

Andrean Sigurgeirsson, Ástrós Guðjónsdóttir and Sólbjört Sigurðardóttir, the dancers of the band Hatari, say the premiere of the documentary *A Song Called Hate*, which was shown at Reykjavík International Film Festival last night, brings mixed feelings. The film is about Hatari's participation in Eurovision 2019 and the controversial placement of the contest.

As the nation knows, Hatari went to Tel Aviv on Iceland's behalf last year and caused a kerfuffle by holding up banners with the colors of the Palestinian flag on the live broadcast on the night of the finals. "I still avoid thinking about the final night and the feelings I was experiencing," says Sólbjört, who believes she had a nervous breakdown that night.

"It was really hard being out there and I was afraid I'd never see my child again and couldn't get home." The experience of irrational anxious thoughts was synonymous with the stay in Israel. "That's why it's been uncomfortable to think about."

Processing the experience

The dancers are all still processing the experience of the trip. "I realized later that I'd disconnected from my emotions just to get through what we were doing."

Andrean agrees and says he's still taking in this test of endurance. "I think there's a certain group of people that only see the glamour shots and don't know how difficult this has been for us, both emotionally and professionally as artists."

Ástrós is the only one who has seen the documentary from beginning to end, but the others say they haven't been able to bring themselves to watch it yet. "I've only seen a fraction of it and it tore open all these difficult feelings," says Sólbjört, who preferred to be surprised by it in the arms of friends and family.

"It was uncomfortable looking back. There's still so much you're processing and have been avoiding thinking about for some time," Ástrós muses. She says it was strange to experience these things again from the outside. "But it also gives you a good distance from what happened."

All eyes on them

When it was clear that Hatari would go to Israel, the artistic team became the center of the media and public discourse in Iceland in one fell swoop. "It happened so fast, all eyes were on us and you got scared of making some misstep," Andrean admits.

Everyone had an opinion on the act, and friends, acquaintances and strangers were divided, for or against, participation or boycott. Andrean thinks people don't necessarily realize how difficult it is to be the target of so many opinions. "You just get so confused and want to listen to everyone and please everyone, but still trust your own beliefs and sense of justice."

Wanted to fight this battle

Sólbjört and Andrean both went out with the aim of unveiling the whitewashed image that Israel had drawn up of the contest. "You decide to fight this battle, and then you become aware of how your friends and loved ones also have opinions, which don't necessarily rhyme with your own," says Andrean. Even within the group there were arguments about the best way to support Palestine. "We wanted the cause to be in the foreground, and there were endless back-and-forths about what would be the best way to do that," Sólbjört adds.

"Most of us really wanted to see it up on stage, but of course that never would've been seen because of the playback [delay], so we decided to act when we were live for real," says Andrean. They did the best they could in the situation. "We waited and waited for the camera to be on us and then finally we got that chance towards the end of the televote points."

Sólbjört says she was terrified that night, and in fact for the entire trip. Nonetheless, she never doubted fighting for the cause, even if sometimes her emotions took over.

Privilege blindness gone

Ástrós had a somewhat different experience from the other dancers. "I'd been to Israel before, and didn't originally go for the cause, but for the trip and getting to work with them." But once they were out there, her purpose changed, after the team traveled around Palestine.

"When we visited the refugee camp in Bethlehem, there was some transformation within me." People told stories of their lives, and it made Ástrós think. "I couldn't help thinking about the injustice of these women having to give birth in dirty alleys, while we have all this privilege back home."

As the youngest member of the group, Ástrós had never had to face her privilege before. "It really cut me deep how unfair it was that I'd been born into this white privilege and had never even had to think about human rights as a question." When she looks back, the feelings come flooding back. "Number one, two and three, I just re-experience how unjust the situation is out there," she says, visibly emotional.

Forced people to see

But it wasn't only Ástrós who learned from this experience; the whole group experienced the importance of foregrounding the Palestinian struggle in the contest. "That was the reason we participated in Eurovision and the reason we made this movie," says Sólbjört.

Andrean agrees. "I've always been an activist at heart and fight passionately for human rights to be respected and human dignity to be upheld."

Despite a blend of good, bad and horrible days, the three of them don't regret taking part. "It forced people to see what was being hidden, and that's why it was worth it," says Ástrós.

It raised awareness and pushed people to take a stance on an issue that would otherwise have been easy to ignore. "It also got various activist organizations to consider if this is a good way to create a conversation about big issues." Andrean feels art is often underestimated on that stage. "Art gets people to think outside the box, and I think the union of activism and art worked out well in this context."

Sent the singers to their rooms

The dancers also hope it's clear that all of the group's decisions were taken as a group. Even though the band was the face of the team, all voices were heard. "People varied in how radical their ideas were," says Andrean, who fought strongly for the waving of the banners.

"I really remember how I'd stuck the flags under my underwear and in my socks and I thought everyone had." That turned out not to be the case and Andrean had to send the singers back to their rooms to get their banners. "It was kind of a circus at times."

The constant presence of the camera also disrupted things to some extent. "We could never be alone, we were constantly being watched," says Ástrós. As a result, sometimes they had to repress their emotions. "The focus was on supporting the fight for human rights and showing what it was like, more than taking care of our mental health and our soul as a group."

The fight is not over

Personal conflicts within and without the group are not the main subject of the documentary. "I think people will be surprised that it's not just about us and the drama around Eurovision, but a much bigger and wider-scope problem," says Sólbjört. The film is largely about the oppression that comes with daily life in Palestine. "What I learned from this, and hope others see too, is that human rights matter for everyone, always, and it's not justifiable to look the other way," says Ástrós firmly.

The premiere of the film marks a certain reckoning with this time, among the dancers and the others on the team. "We're still in contact with Palestinian artists who plan to come to Iceland when the situation allows, so perhaps this is the end of one chapter and the beginning of another."

Hatari's act didn't stop the bombing of Gaza or the illegal settlements in Palestine, but opened the door for conversations and collaboration. "Even though this act is at an end, human rights are still being trampled in Palestine and we hope people continue to be aware of it and take a stand." The fight isn't over. "We just hope the film continues to draw attention to it."

#hatari #a song called hate #andrean sigurgeirsson #sólbjört sigurðardóttir #ástrós guðjónsdóttir #interview #translation #politics

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maddiefriendlovesbilly · 4 years

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If you feel up for writing more ever all I crave is Ghost angst Constantly S a d //it can have a happy or sad ending if you want I just need to agressively throw my emotions at a fiction character who is also sad//

So anon, I know its been like a few Months or something since you requested this, but here it is,,, Ghost angst!! I can’t tell you my plans because that would spoil the surprise but what I can say is: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I present to you:

Once More, This Time With Feeling

Rating: PG-13 (but rating may go up), SFW for now

Ship: Ghost/Spooker

Warnings: Angst, emotional turmoil, Ghost being an idiot feelings-wise, dark/intrusive thoughts, blocking others out, next chapter may have more warnings

Summary: The P.I.E. team head out for a seemingly normal case, but things quickly spiral out of control, and Ghost ends up in quite a unique circumstance, to say the least.

Word Count: 3,516

Nothing unusual happens, before it all starts, nothing that would indicate how utterly to shit everything goes in a mere matter of hours. There are no red flags, or bad omens, or warning signs. Everything seems as normal as it can be when you’re a paranormal investigator for a living - so when the call comes in for a fairly simple job, Ghost accepts and gives the woman an ETA before shouting a quick, “We’ve got a job!” down the hall and slinging his satchel over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. He hears a distant whoop from Spooker just before he exits, to which he rolls his eyes.

The car ride is uneventful, save for some antics with Toast’s driving license - or lack thereof. They reach the large office building a few minutes before he said they would, and the woman has a look like she’d be pleased if the situation weren’t so distressing - he’s been met with similar looks much more than one might expect. He walks over and introduces him and his team, all business, and only grimaces slightly when he introduces Spooker, though he thinks the woman might have noticed nonetheless.

She’s mocha-skinned, a fraction taller than Ghost and perfectly kempt, with a perfectly trimmed bob and rigid posture that scream, “Inconvenience me, I dare you.” An immaculate suit and tie complete the look.

Her name is Christine Hemmingway, and she explains that she works in the office behind her as a supervisor - during a recent trip to the basement, she discovered a strange new door leading to a series of branching underground tunnels reaching lengths she can’t accurately estimate without entering them - an idea she wisely rejected outright - but, from what little she saw from the entrance, might span the entire downtown area. She heard noises, possibly talking, along with a faint ebbing glow, coming from one of the tunnels on the right, but shut the door before she could see who, or what, it was when the sounds went quiet and she heard footsteps approaching. When Ghost asks, she’s adamant the door wasn’t there before, and has replaced a water cooler and a stubby filing cabinet too short to conceal the door, both of which have disappeared completely.

Looking up at the building Ghost notes that it looks completely empty, and asks Christine if she has a way inside, to which she nods and pulls out a key card with her face on it, handing it to him while saying, “Lose this, and you’ll regret it - one, because you won’t be able to get out, and two, because you’ll have to explain to security why you’re inside a business outside office hours, and while I’m sure they’d just love to hear the story of a spooky new door in the basement, I doubt it will save you from being charged with breaking and entering.” Ghost nods and after unlocking the front door and jamming his foot in the crack, he tucks the card safely inside his bag. He hears Toast mutter something like, “Wouldn’t be the first time,” and snorts inelegantly.

Christine looks like she’s starting to rethink her decision about hiring them, so Ghost spits out something professional sounding along the lines of, “We’ll do our best to find the cause of these tunnels, you can count on us ma’am,” and it seems to work pretty well, until Colon breaks the silence with a sharp cough that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Ghost fails to suppress a side-long glance his way, and does even worse at keeping a single brow from arching in question; Colon only “coughs” again, louder this time.

For the sake of his likely rapidly declining paycheck, he just sighs and opens the door, holding it there and waving the others inside. “After you.”

The others enter and he takes the rear, letting Toast lead them towards an elevator with a “1” printed beside it. Pressing the down arrow, Spooker comments, “Nice to use a normal, functioning elevator for once, usually they’re either busted or do something crazy, like move diagonally or something, and are bringing us somewhere that’ll probably try to kill us.”

They all huff varying degrees of laughter, and Ghost replies, “I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t know what you expected when you answered the job request, because “normal” stuff isn’t something we have an abundance of in the “paranormal investigation” line of work. It’s sort of in the name.”

Spooker shrugs and smiles at him dopily, and the elevator dings beside him, announcing its arrival as the door slides open. He flinches at the volume, smile faltering, and they quickly shuffle inside. Colon hits the ‘B’ button, cringing when it beeps too. The elevator shifts and, with a groan, begins its descent. They’re silent on the way down, apart from the occasional tapping of Toast’s foot, or the click-click of Ghost making sure his flashlight works. Spooker looks up at this, and Ghost can practically see his thoughts when he starts, and fumbles at the one clipped to his belt, mouthing “Oh!” He grabs it, looking quite pleased with himself.

Ghost feels something pool in his chest at the sight, much too fond for his liking, and when his lip twitches upwards in amusement, whatever was swelling in his chest immediately curdles. The not-quite-smile sours and congeals, writhing, until he’s left with a deep scowl and an aching where something softer once lay. Despite its unpleasantness, Ghost still finds the feeling easier to deal with; bitterness and discomfort were familiar, they kept him grounded in reality, rather than letting him get his hopes up only for them to be crushed yet again. He doesn’t know how Spooker stays so positive despite how often he’s rejected and let down, especially by Ghost - he doesn’t think he could completely bounce back from many of them, let alone do it as quickly as Spooker does.

As the elevator chimes its arrival to the basement, Ghost feels a sharp pain on his bottom lip, and swears under his breath when he realizes he’s worried his lip hard enough to draw blood. The other two are too far to hear it, but Spooker glances back from where he stands in the doorway, concerned. His eyes flick to Ghost’s lips - the bottom of which now has a small bump, and Ghost swipes his tongue over it unconsciously, tasting iron - and when he meets his eyes again Spooker seems even more worried. “Are you-” he starts, but Ghost interrupts before he can finish, responding, “It’s fine - just a cut,” and Spooker looks like he wants to point out that that isn’t what he was asking, but isn’t sure how, but it doesn’t matter because it’s shut him up for now. He slides past Spooker, deciding to just put aside the whole elevator ride for the time being - he can deal with it after they’ve completed the mission, once he’s alone. He schools his features to neutrality and makes his way across the room to where Toast and Colon are examining an old wooden door, ill-fitting in its modern surroundings. “I understand what she meant by ‘strange’ now,” he comments as he approaches.

“Yeah, definitely stands out, doesn’t it?” Colon shoots back, and rolls back onto his heels, taking in their surroundings.

“All I can really think about is all that paperwork they’re going to need to redo,” Toast interjects.

Ghost snorts, pushing past them, announcing, “Alright, let’s get this shit over with,” and gripping the rusty handle and turning it. He swings open the door to reveal an empty, narrow tunnel, too long for his flashlight’s beam to reach very far ahead, with archways presumably leading to similar tunnels. Spooker, being the last one in, shoves a nearby chair into the gap between the door and frame to keep it open, just in case.

They make their way down the main tunnel, shining their lights down the branches as they pass, every once in a while coming across a room, which they poke their head into, or an iron door - often locked, each with a small, barred window to see inside, and most leading to another seemingly identical tunnel, some complete dead ends, others to (sometimes totally barren) rooms - with no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Something about it all plants a growing seed of dread in the pit of his stomach, but he can’t place what it is that bothers him so much. None of these things are unusual to see in their investigations, and are all pretty by-the-book as entities’ lairs go, but maybe it’s the way it’s all laid out - there’s no practical way for them to search every single tunnel, that would take days, maybe weeks, so there’s no real way to know what to expect, and the door placement is so sporadic that it’s impossible to tell if something is locked because it’s important, or just another meaningless path to who-knows-where; maybe it’s that they’ve been walking for at least fifteen minutes and nothing has changed, other than the fact that he can’t see the door anymore, just a wall of darkness at their backs. There aren’t any lights, though Ghost does spot an empty sconce every so often, and Ghost isn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor is he claustrophobic, but he can feel the darkness behind him like hands on his back, and the tunnel is carved just wide enough to almost fit two people side by side, with flawless smooth stone on all sides, and a ceiling that arcs just above Toast’s head at its peak, so close that Ghost worries it might come crashing down any moment. He doesn’t even know if these are even actual tunnels in the ground, or if they’re in another dimension, or between them - and he’d rather avoid repeating that experience, thank you very much.

Glancing around, the others don’t seem to be any more on alert than they usually are on missions, so he’s probably just overthinking it - but that explanation does little to quell the panic rising in his chest, which only grows larger, filling the space his lungs need to expand. He realizes he’s chewing on his lip again when the cut stings from being reopened. He digs his nails into his palm to bring himself back to the present, but the hands on his back have morphed into something colder, darker, and he can’t focus when, logically, he knows there’s nothing behind him but an empty tunnel and eventually an old door, but every instinct in his body is screaming that something is very, very wrong, and they need to leave right now, but he can't even tell if there’s still an available escape because the tunnel is so completely void of light and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He doesn’t see Colon take out his detector, and clearly jumps about a foot in the air when it shatters the silence with a shrill beep - and just when did it become so deathly quiet that the only sounds are their footsteps on the smooth, stone floor? - and when they look at him like he’s grown a second head he laughs awkwardly and says, “Warn a guy next time!”

Colon takes it at face value, and apologizes before turning back to the beeping machine in his hand; Toast gives him a look of “everything okay?” to which he shrugs, and Toast nods in understanding, probably planning on asking him about it later. Spooker seems unconvinced though, and while he doesn’t say anything, he steps just a fraction closer to Ghost, and maybe by doing so he’s admitting it’s not really fine, that nothing is, but nonetheless, he doesn’t move away. It’s not obvious with the close confines of the tunnel, but Spooker notices, and he smiles a little, but it’s tinged with sadness and something else Ghost can’t name.

That’s when the detector’s beeping spikes, turning frantic.

Everyone is on alert immediately, but Toast is the first one to motion in the direction of what sounds like approaching footsteps, bare on the cold stone floor. They all turn around to face whatever’s coming down the passage, the beeping steadily increasing as the footsteps get louder. A pale foot inches into the beam of one of their flashlights, quickly followed by another, and with it, the rest of the short, petite girl, a mop of tangled black hair hiding most of her face and slim shoulders. Her white dress drags behind her in chunks, shredded and stained from dragging across the ground.

Ghost feels his eyes widen, and realizes he’s stumbled back, pressing into Spooker, who’s practically holding him up by the shoulders. Through the strands of hair he can see a single eye staring out at the bodies crowding the narrow hall, and he knows it’s stupid, but he can’t shake the feeling that it’s staring straight into him, even though she hasn’t glanced up once yet. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking now, and can only hope that Spooker hasn’t noticed, for the sake of his pride.

The ragged figure stops just inside the beam, finally looking up. She meets Ghost’s stare, and holds his gaze - they stay that way, matching each other in a silent battle of ‘who will crack first?’

“K-” he starts, “Katrina?”

Spooker shifts behind him, Ghost thinks he might be staring at him too. He doesn’t break away to check.

Katrina says nothing, only stares.

He takes a quivering step forward, feels Spookers hands fall from his shoulders, reaches out. Katrina still doesn’t look away, but she also doesn’t move away, so he takes another step towards her, then another, then another, until he’s right in front of her, hand merely an inch away from making contact. The flashlight in his hands quakes violently in his death-grip, but he drops a hand onto her shoulder, which is surprisingly solid. This seems to break Katrina from her trance though, and she screeches - not unlike a banshee, Ghost thinks distantly - clawing at him.

He veers back, not quite quick enough to avoid the talons that just catch his cheek, leaving two shallow claw marks behind. The other three behind him break from their stupors and begin shouting, pushing themselves bodily between the two of them in an effort to protect him. Spooker makes it his job to confirm that Ghost is somewhat okay, before turning back to face the enemy in front of them.

Ghost’s cheek oozes blood, but not enough to really be worried, so he just holds one sleeve up to the cheek, letting it soak up the sticky liquid. The others have their guns trained on Katrina, but he can’t manage to make himself do the same, so he just ends up standing at the back, watching. He feels like a coward. Bile still threatens to claw its way out of his throat as he stands there numbly.

Behind her ratty tangles, she catches Ghost’s eyes once more, before disappearing altogether. He hears himself sobs her name under his breath, feels his legs wobble beneath him, but somehow manages to stay standing, despite the sickening dread swimming in the pit of his stomach. It doesn’t last long though, because soon, the group of them are hit with a wave of vertigo so strong, they fall to their knees collectively. Ghost chokes on his nausea. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the swimming feeling, and when he opens them again, the long, narrow hallway is gone, replaced instead by an inky black room.

He fumbles blindly at his belt, whipping out his flashlight and flicking it on. He pivots, but his flashlight quickly collides with an obstacle - one that responds with a sharp “Ack! Dude-!” in Spooker’s voice.

“Shit!” Ghost spits, stumbling back - not very far, mind you, being that he hits the wall behind him not two steps back - and proceeds to shine his light directly into Spooker’s eyes until he shields them. “Jeez-Jesus, dude, Jesus.” He finally lowers the light, dropping into a crouch. “I gotta-I can’t, man. Shit!” He takes in a shaky gulp of air and tries not to scream.

Spooker probably has that look he gets when he’s trying to play it cool and seem unconcerned - but just ends up looking confused instead - because Ghost can hear it in his voice when he says, “Are y-?” He clears his throat. “Do you uh-need me to-er take care of that scratch? It could get infected if we don’t uh, do that. Yeah.”

“It would probably help to find some light,” he says, with more bite to it than either of them were expecting, “Y’know, so we don’t blind each other in this pitch-ass-black room?”

Spooker wisely does not comment on that statement, simply takes out his own flashlight and sweeps the beam around the room, eventually coming to rest beside Ghost. He looks up, realizes his head is inches away from the door handle, and sighs wearily before rocking forward and up into a standing position, opening the door.

He’s sure that neither of them are expecting to be met with a completely foreign corridor, still narrow, but seemingly lived in, at least in the past. Dim lights flicker overhead, implanted in a tile ceiling, a stark contrast to the empty sconces and carved stone of the previous tunnel.

They glance at each other once, before shuffling into the hall. Ghost sees three other doors lining the hall - one on the end and two on the opposite wall - and makes his way to the closest one. He moves to try the knob, but is impeded by Spooker catching the hood of his jacket and dragging him back, tutting, “Nope! We’re dealing with your injuries before we do anything else!”

Ghost feels himself pouting, and quickly changes his expression into one more neutral before turning around; Spooker seems to see it nonetheless, because he placates him by saying, “It’ll only sting for a second, promise!”

He pulls him to the ground, and Ghost crosses his legs, resting his uninjured cheek on his hand. He’s very much not sulking right now, even if Toast would tease him for it if he were present. He especially doesn’t glare at the alcohol as Spooker pulls it out. He does hiss as Spooker dabs at his cut, and he can see how much Spooker is struggling to not roll his eyes.

Finally, he’s allowed to do actually important things, and walks to the door, gripping the handle. It rattles, staunchly denying him entry, so he moves on. The next one does the same, and he moves to the one at the end of the hallway, which thankfully swings open with a grating creak, revealing a dimmer, but otherwise identical hallway to the one behind him. He repeats the process, with the exact same result as the previous section. He glances back at Spooker before pushing open the door at the end, to reveal a slightly dimmer version.

Again, he tries the doors. Again, the one at the end is the only one that opens. The next hallway is slightly darker than the last.

Ghost’s stomach churns nervously, and he glances once more at Spooker, whose expression is starting to match his own.

The light quickly diminishes, and soon enough they’re flicking their flashlights back on. “Crap-” he hears behind him, just before their lights flicker once, twice, and die simultaneously. A familiar giggle echoes throughout the small corridor, and Ghost shivers, moving minutely closer to where he last saw Spooker. Ghost shakes himself and fumbles toward the end of the hall, using the walls to guide himself. “Try the other doors, I’ll try the one at the end of the hall.” He hits the end of the hall a little harder than he meant to, and is a little glad for the dark, even if it can’t hide the soft ‘thud’ that bounces through the room. The door rattles in its frame, unbudging, so Ghost throws over his shoulder, “This one’s stuck, what about the others?”

“No luck over he-Woah!” A slam ricochets throughout the small place - presumably the door meeting the wall in a less than pleasant fashion. “You good?” Ghost manages to get out without his worry peeking through, falling just short of nonchalant.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m alright, just caught me off guard. Let’s go.” They hobble through the doorway, which slams shut behind them. Ghost’s mind swims with deja vu for a second, but he can’t place the reason for it, so he decides to put it aside for the moment.

Ghost thinks later that if he had to choose the moment everything truly started going to shit, he might choose this one. Like the calm before the storm, or the eye of a hurricane, or some other cliché crap.

Either way, the soft click of the door locking behind them feels like an omen of things to come.

Or maybe it’s the axe swinging directly toward Spooker’s head.

#jess answers #venturiantale #venturiantale pie #johnny ghost #johnny toast #jimmy casket #fred spooker #chris colon ghostie #vt katrina #ghooker #ghost x spooker #as requested (ages ago)!!#jess writes

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thegreenalien · 3 years

Note

You should do all of them questions and 90 is true

I love you!!!!

1. Favorite instrument?

I work at a music store u can’t just ask me this. When my coworkers play it’s the saxophone or the flute, when the boys in the repair shop are testing repairs and they harmonize with each other or try to outplay one another it’s the bassoon or the trombone or whatever they’re fixing at the moment. When I hear 🎺 give his lesson on Wednesday afternoons it’s the trumpet, and when I think about middle school it’s the clarinet, the flute, the French horn. When I hear the nutcracker pas des deux is the oboe and when I hear edith piaf l’accordeoniste it’s the remarkable human voice. Really my favorite instrument is all of them, it just depends.

2. Favorite fic trope? Mutual pining 🥺

3. Sport you played for the longest amount of time? LMAO I wasn’t a sporty kid but I did ballet

4. Shoe size? 10-11

5. Most recent (good) dream? Uhh I had a dream last night about my coworker 🎹 it wasn’t bad though I can’t really remember what it was about

6. Last person in your DMs? smugg

7. Can you do a handstand? Nooo nooo lmaoo nooooo

8. Unpopular food opinion I don’t like oranges or red meat

9. Conspiracy you believe in? There’s some kind of weird weather dome in my hometown around the military base that makes most storms pass around us

10. Is your hair its natural color/style? Most of it is I dyed the bottom layer of my hair tho so it’s blonde rn

11. state a useless fact all that’s coming to mind is outright lies rn hold on. The inventor of pringles is buried in a pringles can that’s so fucking nasty omg

12. most interesting gossip you’ve heard? Idk I don’t really care for gossip uhhhh have u heard tho rin dippindogs is a huge gay hah she uhh she like men AND women lmao gaaay gaaaay

13. Middle name? Carolyn

14. Sexuality? Bisexual

15. Amount of sleep you got last night? Idk actually I think like 9-10 hrs tho I slept in until 11

16. Opinion on ice cream cake? Tasty!!!

17. Opinion on (cup)cake frosting? It’s depends buttercream is usually too sweet for me in large amounts so I prefer whipped cream frosting

18. Last board game you played? Idk??? We played hunt a killer tho last Thursday me n my family I guess that counts kinda

19. Project you want to start? I need ideas first baby

20. Project you’re working on right now? HAHAHAHAHAHA

21. TV show you’re watching? nothing rn I just rewatch bojack a lot if I watch anything

22. Last movie you watched? Lego batman I think

23. Ever left anon hate? Not legit hate

24. Ever left anon love? Yes all the time. Sometimes to strangers it’s my favorite thing to do

25. Best Disney movie? The princess and the frog

26. Best Pixar movie? Soul or Up I can’t decide

27. Best Star Wars? Um. Empire strikes back

28. Last thing you consumed? Fuit gumy

29. NoTP? Idk I don’t really hate ships unless they’re gross like pedophilic gross

30. story behind your (nick)name? When I was a fetus my great grandfather had a dream that my name should be Carolyn Marie but my parents were huge dweebs so they named me Marina after the actress of Deanna Troi in Star Trek. Idk about my nickname ive just always been Rina/Rin as long as I can remember

31. ice cream order? Lately it’s lemon sorbetto I know it’s SO high in sugar but I love it

32. describe your blog in <5 words I love you

33. how many blogs do you follow? 436

34. Describe your voice it depends usually I sound like a sick child but my customer service voice is really pleasant

35. Describe your smile it’s cute :)

36. What is the place you live known for? LMAOOO LMAO we have a military base nearby and like. I could go on abt that one but also like. There’s a lot of gang violence and a lot of the other consequences of poverty. People from the cities around us see us as “””ghetto””” or violent but it’s just. It’s more than that it’s always more than that. And idk what else there’s nothing really particularly special about this town except that we’re all here and not anywhere else

37. What is the place you’re originally from known for? (if they’re different)

38. pronouns? she/any idc

39. Languages you speak? English

40. first friend you made through tumblr? Idk. I probably don’t talk to them anymore :(

41. Person on tumblr you know in real life? my brother

42. First dog breed you think of shih tzu I have 2 next to me rn

43. room wall color? Purble!!!! The paint color is called grape juice that’s why I picked it!!!

44. Song that’s stuck in your head right now? It’s tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that’s right on time it’s trickyyyyy

45. Favorite number? 5, 34

46. Color you associate with your name? Red

47. Favorite jolly rancher flavor?watermelon

48. Pets? 2 dogs rocket and groot and 4 cats loki danni who r from the same litter and we raised from kittens, miss kitty who we adopted from a shelter after my boy blue moon passed away and ben (his real name is Kylo Ren thanks to my mom but I refuse to call him that) he is my little baby and he has 7 toes on his front paws

49. Collections? Hot wheels

50. Character outside of your fandom you’d marry? Girl what lmaooo idk

51. Character outside of your fandom you’d kill? That’s mean :(

52. Have you met any celebrities? NO thank god id have to kill on sight

53. Favorite time period in history? Itslian Renaissance & Romantic Era

54. What time is it right now? 2:35 am oops

55. History or future? Future but like . A good one. Or prehistory

56. Space or ocean? Space

57. Fears? Abandonment

58. Command + v and post. It’s this list of questions u don’t want that

59. Favorite season? Spring

60. Describe your aesthetic. Messy just a mess, neon and old buildings and things, antiques, countryside if there weren’t so many trump pence flags still lmaoo give uppp give up, nature just al of nature and space and places humans can’t touch and places they used to touch but can’t anymore

61. MBTI? Infp but I haven’t taken it in a few years

62. What’s your relationship with your family like? Normal.

63. “Biggest fan” in your tumblr activity? I’m in mobile hold on acc to tumblr it’s akky

64. Favorite musical? Sweeney todd

65. Comfort book? Idk how to read 💔💔💔 wuthering heights tho

66. Comfort movie? Whisper of the heart

67. OTP? Girl idk

68. BroTP? Joey and Tristan yugioh

69. AUs or canon compliant? Canon ig idk

70. Opinion on the person who’s sending the ask? It’s an anon!! But I love them

71. FMK + 3 characters anon didnt leave any characters and I was going to say something very bad but I won’t

72. Dream date? I’ve wanted to do this for a while but ideally it would be after we’d been together a while maybe even engaged or whatever, I wanna go to like a Home Depot or a furniture store and pretend to be married and looking for house paints and furniture and plan what our home is going to look like I wanna do that so bad. But idk for a first/early relationship date i really want to go to the zilker botanical garden it’s one of my favorite places, we could also go to the natural gardener which is a plant nursery in Austin I really love it there too and it’s not that far from zilker.

73. Relationship status? Single

74. Ever dyed your hair? Do you plan to? Yes and perhaps. Maybe

75. Dream job/career? Idk anymore I used to have big girl goals and I haven’t had any in a while. But when I was younger I wanted to be a game warden

76. Favorite band/singer? Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

77. Something that makes you soft/that you find adorable? My cats

78. The first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Buy a house

79. Are you superstitious? Yes

80. Character you project onto? Shizuku tsukishima

81. Fictional character you’ve had a crush on? Vergil devil may cry. Forever husband

82. Celebrity crush? LMAO

83. Person on here you’d date? my mutuals

84. Person on here you’d marry? 🥺 my mutuals

85. Person on here you’d throw into the void? Smugg

86. Other social media you have? I’ve got a photography insta that I barely use and a Twitter that’s just nintendo switch screenies that’s it

87. Finish the sentence: Due to personal reasons, ___________i will be passing away

88. Bad habit? I find it rlly hard to say no or like to say when and why I’m upset I don’t feel like for the latter I don’t feel like I should bring something that’s upsetting me up because I know I’ll get over it on my own and I don’t really trust myself to be upset about rational things. Idk I’m working on it

89. Three things you like about yourself? I’m hot, I’m kind, I’m resilient

90. Ily and you deserve the world I love you!!!!! YOU deserve it too!!!

#askies #anonymous #long post /#thank u!!

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procancelled · 4 years

Text

Let’s Start A Riot (2008)

I want to start out by saying that while this album came out in 2008 so some of the stuff I reference may not have happened yet, the lyrics show that he had the ideas.

Also while some of these may seem like nothing, or very minor, given the things Dahvie has said I think that it’s important to look at everything he has chosen to put out to gain fans. The messages his fans are getting.

I Can’t Get Enuff

I’ll hit you harder than meth

I’ll leave you gasping for breath

References to rough sex and Dahvie’s oral sex fixation as well as drug references. I feel like the references to drugs matter a lot more now that we know he gives drugs to minors, clearly has access to drugs and promotes them.

Bitches Get Stitches

Stop the hate congratulate

Dahvie dismisses all criticism as hate which is always a red flag, especially when that hate is to do with any kind of sexual crime (Though this was before the Jessi Slaughter incident there were still allegations against him at this time)

You know my name so eat some cake

Flaunting his fame and clearly doesn’t care if people know his name for negative reasons.

Party hardy grab Bacardi

Young audience having alcohol referenced towards them. He gives minors alcohol, slips drugs in their drinks and then rapes them.

Talk your shit watch you get hit

Violent nature towards anyone who speaks up against him. Gives the idea that being violent towards anyone who says anything negative about him or the band is okay.

What’s up with that awful gossip

Rape and pedo allegations are not just ‘gossip’ dismissing it as something so trivial is gross. He’s just trying to convince his fans that anything they hear is just ‘gossip’ and not to be taken seriously while not saying what the ‘gossip’ is.

Don’t be mad cus my hair is so rad

Your hair is a wig. I don’t know if it was at the time but I would assume it was, or parts of it were extensions of some kind. And I have no problem with people wearing a wig, but when someone is pretending it’s their real hair and are wearing it to look younger so they can maintain having a young audience who they can take advantage of, yeah, I have many, many problems with that.

Also Dahvie offers to do young girls’ hair as a way to be alone with them so he can take advantage of them.

Bitches get stitches, end up in ditches

Violence and demeaning towards women

So get the riches

Cares about money a lot more than say, being a decent human being. He scams his fans out of money.

Check yourself before you wreck yourself

Acting like everyone who says anything about the allegations about him have the facts wrong

OMG blah, blah, blah

Rude and dismissive. Teaching his fans to act that way

I’m rated x for explicted sex

To me this feels like Dahvie is saying ‘I make it clear I’m sexual so you can’t blame me for what I do!’

You can talk your shit

You can run those lips

Implying that people who talk about the allegations are lying

You’re only making me famous you ignoramus

Dahvie is clearly a man who believes that all press is good press. This also, again, shows how much he cares for fame and how demeaning and insulting he is towards those who question him.

I’m dangerous

Well we can agree about something Dahvie.

Again his violent and threatening nature shows though.

You can talk your shit you’re only making me famous

This is a message he still puts out to this day and he makes his fans push it out too. He just calls everyone who exposes him for the awful person he is a liar.

And again, he continues to go on about fame and gaining more fame. More fame means more underage fans that he can take advantage of.

Blood On The Dance Floor

Slash, gash, terror, whore

I like you better on the floor

Shows Dahvie’s views on women and how demeaning those views are. Also uses violent language while referencing sex.

On the bed give me head

Oral sex fixation and demanding

Make you scream, candy cream

Childish

Scene sluts like it super rough

That’s the way they like to fuck

Shows that he goes for scene girls, who more often than not are on the young side. He’s generalising, being demeaning and also telling his fans, a lot of who are scene, how they should be having sex and how they should like it.

I like to twerk, I like to hurt

Okay so I know the Austin Jones things was years after this, but still Austin Jones vibes isn’t a good thing to give out.

Again with the violence

Bitch, don’t make me fucking work

Demeaning and also gives more of his views on sex

Now make your move into my room

And I’ll whip out my Dr. Doom

Okay so this isn’t a big deal but it’s just so cringy to call your dick ‘Dr. Doom’ and now I’m just thinking about how Dr. Doom is a villain. Also about how he loses, because that tends to be the theme with villains.

Oh, what the fuck?

Bitch, just shut up and suck

Again with the oral sex fixation and the demeaning language.

I need to feel myself inside you deep

More sexual references. Very demanding

Uh, uh I like it rough

I believe a girl sings this part. I’m just reading the lyrics and sparing my ears but Dahvie does not give it ‘rough’ he is abusive.

Uh, uh I give it tough

Like I just said, Dahvie is just abusive and has even gone ahead to say that that’s just what BDSM is which is so wrong and harmful.

It’s like a porno flick!

This line just makes me think about the fact that he has filmed himself raping minors, sometimes after drugging them.

I’m pure triple x

Redefine ultra sex

Dahvie constantly talks about how good he is at sex, which we know isn’t true given that he doesn’t even understand consent. Then there’s the fact that he’s telling his fans how he’s good at sex.

Sex and Violence

Just from the title we already have sex being linked with violence.

You’re so submissive

I’ll get you in position

Dahvie likes to be able to take control over whoever he is with, and he’s telling his fans what he likes. He goes as far as to take a women’s ability to have any control by drugging them.

Deep throat me girl and rule my world

Oral sex fixation

Be my scene queen

Most scene girls are young due to the fact that older people can’t dress and style themselves that way as they have jobs and such.

It’s just the way we fuck

It’s the way we cut

(Sex and violence)

Connecting sex and violence, probably trying to normalise this; ‘It’s just they way things are’.

Fuck me

Rape me

Just a disgusting line, acts as if rape is something asked for. It’s also ironic since he’s the one that’s the rapist.

Take me

Blow me

Oral sex fixation

I’ll slice you, I’ll dice you

More threats of violence.

I ❤ Hello Kitty

Referencing a character intended for children. If a child searches for Hello Kitty they may come across this song.

Also I think it’s really important to keep the name of this song in mind while reading the lyrics.

Ah! Ah! I like it

Against the wall

Just fuck me in the hall

Demanding and somewhat violent/rough/intense sex

You scream ‘meat sucks!’

Well you’re out of luck

Oral fixation. Also it sounds like he’s raping a lesbian.

I’ll fuck you in the face

And leave a nice taste

Oral sex fixation.

Dahvie would tell girls that had no sexual experience that cum tasted like ice cream... what fucking ice scream is he eating?

I’ll fuck you in the club

Exhibitionist

On the ground

Mop it up

Relax! Relax!

It’s my sexy track!

Acting like this is all an act, it’s just a joke and means nothing.

H.E.L.L.O.

Blasting through your stereo

K.I.T.T.Y.

Let me slip between your thighs

Hello Kitty is a children’s cartoon character and also is a minor.

H.E.L.L.O.

Coming straight from Tokyo

K.I.T.T.Y.

My sex will leave you satisfied

Again, this is a cartoon character aimed towards children he’s referencing.

H.E.L.L.O.

Show me how you’re such a whore

K.I.T.T.Y.

Bitch I’ll make you fucking cry

Okay so first off, ‘whore’ and ‘o’ don’t rhyme. Secondly, again we have Dahvie being violent and demeaning towards women. Lastly, HELLO KITTY IS A CHARACTER AIMED TOWARDS CHILDREN!

We mosh like liars

Well Dahvie, you are a massive liar.

You’re A Dancer, You’re Not A Lover

I want to tell you a tale

Of love, drugs and complications

Dahvie knows nothing about love. He drugs women/young girls and leaves them with a lot more than just complications.

Get into the bigger tits

Many of his victims have said that Dahvie was very interested in their chest. He views women as objects for his satisfaction.

So fuck me on the dance floor

Exhibitionist

Take off your pants

And do the revolutionary dance

Sounds really childish while the song, as well as the album, also contains many adult themes.

Modern World Christ

Dahvie compares himself to Jesus due to his name, or middle name as survivors have stated that he goes by Jesus David Torres instead of David Jesus Torres so when people look him up they wouldn’t find his arrest record.

This also just makes me think about all the cult leader who tie themselves to Jesus in some way.

Hollywood is full of shit

Say what you like

So we can call you a pedo and a rapist?

I got nothing to hide

I mean, you do but you can’t hide it any longer and you were doing a bad job anyway.

I’m not special or unique

Glad we can agree on that

I’ve been crucified like Jesus Christ

You’re not Jesus Christ!

As I grow stronger my voice gets louder

Just because you’re loud doesn’t mean you’re right or truthful

Your shit gets weaker as I stomp you with my sneakers

Rude, dismissive of claims against him and he’s also threatening those who come out against him.

Let my words eat you alive

Mocking victims

I wanna be the boy you adore

Not gonna happen Dahvie. And you’re not a boy, even at this time you were an adult.

Without the label of a Bedroom Whore

No one calls you that. We do label you as a rapist and a pedo.

And if you didn’t want any chance of being called that maybe don’t sing about sex.

So shut the fuck up with your ignorance

Me at BOTDF fans

And shut the fuck up with your competence

What? Why would you say they’re competent if you’re trying to act like they’re just liars and haters?

Money and Hoes

Again the want for money, probably to buy more wigs. And being demeaning towards women.

They want my cock

No they don’t, you force it on them.

They’re sucking my ding

Asphyxiation prescription perfection

Oral sex fixation. And who the hell calls it my ding? Like, he was rhyming it with bling, but seriously.

Hi, I’m danger

More dangerous but okay

I’m mightier than any Power Ranger

Power fantasy

I get what I want

Like the rapist you are. You get what you want because you prey on vulnerable people, make them trust you and then take what you want.

And be obscene

Leave parents feeling disgusting

Ironic since Dahvie befriends the parents of his victims to make it easier for him.

And I’m hood rich

You’re a middle class white guy

My grill is so ill

Just no

I’ll make your titties spill

No.

Also, demeaning

Till Death Do We Party

Cut your bone and slash your tongue

Violence...

Gonna shoot my hot load

...then sexual reference

Fuck me in the club, and light this bitch up

Exhibitionism

(Fuck me in the dirt, life up my sexy skirt)

Dirty, rough sex

Fuck me in the house and shake it all about

Shake it all about sounds childish

(Fuck me in the car, like a movie star)

He often raped people in the back of a car, forcing them to preform oral sex.

Fuck me in the rain, take away my pain

Sex won’t take away pain, this is a bad message he’s sending to his underage fans. Sex with Dahvie will only end in pain.

Fuck me in the church, make it fucking hurt

Violent

Dahvie,

I would not fuck you in the rain,

I would not fuck you on a train,

I wouldn’t fuck you in a church,

I wouldn’t fuck you for research.

I just want you in jail,

And for there to be no bail.

I Hope You Choke

Me to Dahvie

More violence

Cutting and frustration

Self harm, most likely trying to pander to his audience and seem relatable.

Sex and complication

Connects sex with negative emotions

I lost my grip

I’m about to slip

Love is cruel, remember this

Acting like this tortured soul to get pity.

Makes love sound bad.

Protect yourself from the fighting fists

Covered wrists

Self harm bating again

The whole song is just Dahvie singing about how some girl broke up with him and he hopes she dies.

Incel vibes x100.

Fallen Star

We’re so in love,

We did every drug

Connects love and drug use.

Normalising drug use when he has a young audience.

We kissed in the dark

In the back of your car

Many stories of Dahvie forcing himself on girls, or rather, forcing them on him, in the backs of cars. If it’s dark then they can’t see him.

You died in the crash site

Okay so there’s this whole story about how someone who was a member of the band died in a car crash, but while researching this I found a Facebook post where someone said at a show they asked Dahvie about it and he said she didn’t die and it was another one of his friends. I take this with a grain of salt because I can’t find any confirmed evidence as to whether this ex-band member is still alive or not.

He’s basically using someone’s death, not long after it happened, for sympathy on this album filled with references to sex and drugs as well as threats of violence.

Libertine

Okay so people say this song is dedicated to the member that may have died, however the fan in the Facebook post said that Dahvie said the song is dedicated to her because it was her favourite song on the album. Again, I have no idea which claim is real.

You’re living out a lie

Ironic.

If I could have my way I’d sit and watch you die.

Violence.

Also, you can see why I question this song being dedicated to someone who died since it has a lyric like this. Either Dahvie is being really tasteless, which I wouldn’t be surprised by, or she didn’t died and it was someone else and the story got twisted.

And there we go. One album done... so many more to go.

Wish me luck.

#blood on the dance floor #dahvie vanity #kawaii monster #botdf #anti botdf #anti blood on the dance floor #anti dahvie #anti dahvie vanity

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sim-songs · 4 years

Text

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

So I wanted to answer all of these, because why not you know? @dreamsongsims now you can learn more about Belgium ;)

It’s under the read more so I don’t clog up your dashboards.

1. favourite place in your country? Honestly my home. I am living in Antwerp right now with the bf and I honestly love it, even though we aren’t really going outside much right now bc of the virus. I do miss the green and the “not city” smell haha

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad? I am okay with both. My family always goes on vacations during holidays, the last few years we’ve gone to Thailand for example but I’m more interested in staying closer to home. I LOVE Norway and want to go on holiday there again but it’s expensive.

3. does your country have access to sea? Yes. 67 kilometers of ugly “badsteden” lol (literally means bathing towns). To be honest I like the coast in the Netherlands better because it isn’t as gray and superficial.

4. favourite dish specific for your country? A nice “frietje van de frituur” (french fries), specifically a “frietje speciaal”, that’s french fries with ketchup, mayo and thinly sliced onion.

5. favourite song in your native language? I hate Belgian music, absolutely despise every Dutch song on the radio. But if I have to pick one its Goud from Bazart, it’s an older song by now but it’s one of the few I did not mind listening to.

6. most hated song in your native language? As soon as I read this I immediately thought of Banaan from Jebroer. Just shudders ugh. But really all Dutch songs in this style.

7. three words from your native language that you like the most? I’m gonna paste my earlier answer here: Hmm that's a hard one for me... Gezellig is a word I've always liked bc it doesn't have a real translation, just like cozy or smt. Another one I like is grassprietjes, meaning blades of grass bc it sounds funny and kinda rolls of the tongue and non dutch people will never be able to properly say that! and a third is eenzaam, meaning lonely. I don't really know why I like that one tbh

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom? I don’t really remember ever being confused for another nationality. I have read that Dutch sounds like German on crack, and that Belgian Dutch is easier than Netherlands Dutch for foreigners.

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best? Visit most: France and Germany, I have been to them both already but never for long and a long time ago. Know best: Probably the Netherlands. We share a language after all so we share some cultural things! (Does Temptation Island count as a cultural thing lol?)

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language? Mmm tough one to answer, because me and my bf are big English speakers so most of our swearing is of the “fuck” variety. I like “godverdomme” (god dammit) and what my dad sometimes says “godverdomme miljaarde nondeju” (there is literally nothing I can do to translate this)

11. favourite native writer/poet? I can’t think of any poets, but I like the writer Valerie Eykmans, specifically the book “Verloren Maandag”

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem? So I really like “Het Weer” by Hugo Claus, I even have a poster in our living room with the poem in his handwriting.

Weather

How was the weather in the country without you? At first mist fell over the concrete mountains.

Then the sun hung like mist over the mother-of-pearl sand.

Then the sky moved and became clammy as your armpits.

A lightning closed my teeth.

And everywhere the smell rose of the big animals that don't exist

unless in the ringing of your ear, in the rustle of your hair.

That's how it was back there without you. You are the air pressure and the dew and the snow in my skull.

It does not rhyme much in Dutch, it’s more about the rhythm of the words, so as far as the translation goes it’s pretty accurate in it’s contents but the rhythm is definitely off in the translated version

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders? What immediately comes to mind is the whole “Sinterklaas” problem where every year the discourse starts again whether or not the “Zwarte Pieten” are racist. Honestly not gonna comment on that because it’s not my place to feel offended or otherwise about this issue. Another thing that’s a bit more lighthearted is the “jaarmarkt” in our hometown, it’s like a big market that always finds place on the first sunday of the year. There’s a “stoet” (procession) with the walking orchestra, horses, horses and carriages, dogs and a whole load of tractors all going to get blessed at the church where the pastor throws holy water on everyone passing by. I have a love hate relationship with this tradition because it’s always freezing, and the tractors take forever to end. Oh and the main street of our town is completely closed of and there’s a big market with stalls in the street and everyone gets drunk of of the “jenevers” from the Scouts stalls lol.

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV? Not really, the only thing I used to watch was “Helden van Hier: Brandweer” (Heroes from here: fire brigade), it was just following the fire brigade around to fires and what not.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get? ah je moe kakken moe je kakken he 😉

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with? Hate: Belgians are small-minded people not interested in anything going on outside of their home. Just not true at all. Sure there are people like that but every country has those. Agree: Belgians are hard to get to know. I hear this one a lot and I can see why people say that.

17. are you interested in your country’s history? Copied from an earlier answer: I am interested in history in general, it was one of my favourite classes in high school. I do like learning about Belgian history, mainly because Belgian history is, in one term, a messy bitch

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language? Yes, I speak with a “Kempisch” accent, but in general I’m still pretty understandable.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem? I really don’t care about our flag, the Flemish Lion is being overly politicized to exclude the Walons lately and our national anthem is meh, no one can sing it and it’s more of a joke to people my age I think.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country? Soccer (or football idk) and veldrijden (literally field riding, but cyclo-cross as the translation) GO Wout van Aert! (idc abt sports but he’s local to me so)

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be? I’m not sure if this means you want to get rid of it or if you want to memorialize it? Getting rid of “Manneken Pis” because he’s stupid and memorializing an entire classic “frietkot”

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed? Proud: Our cultural diversity and lately our banding together during the crisis Ashamed: All the racists (looking at you Vlaams Belang)

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country? BEER, ALL THE BEER

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country? Honestly our own nation is most joked about for good reasons. Flemish joke about the Walons and vice versa, and everyone jokes about the joke that is our government.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country? I’m happy where I’m at now, so no.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal? I have never seen any prominent representation of Belgian in a Hollywood movie.

27. favourite national celebrity? Probably Tom Waes

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites? We dont have much haha, we have rivers, most notably “De Shelde” which runs though Antwerp not too far from my apparment.

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country? Flemish and Walons have always had beef, so yeah.

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family? I had a phase where I was into genealogy and it’s safe to say I’m one of the most Belgian Belgians out there lol, especially on mothers side her family literally has been living in the same place since the 1600′s and my grandparents had never seen the ocean until my parents took them.

#ask game #non sims #dont mind me i just wanted to answer all of them #anyway if u dont care just scroll past

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manlethotline · 5 years

Text

Theo and Boris are having Christmas Eve dinner. It’s their first holiday being a- whatever it is they are now, and neither of them knows exactly how to approach it. Hobie’s ornate Christmas tree seems too formal, and Boris’ traditional drunken bacchanal with his gang seems too rowdy. Instead they settle for a quiet evening in, Chinese food at the still undecorated apartment Boris is renting now that he has a real reason to visit New York.

It feels oddly reminiscent of Vegas- just the two of them, cheap Christmas lights taped to the walls, the hum of the TV in the other room, and Boris’s boots discarded by the door. Only this time there’s food on the table, this time they’re just a call away from Hobie and Gyuri and as many loving embraces as they can give. This time they’re safe.

“Chinese food on Christmas,” Boris says. “Bobo would be proud.”

Theo laughs- he laughs at everything Boris says lately, making up for years of emotion swallowed and buried. Laughing and weeping and talking, actually talking, shattering the silence he hadn’t known had been killing him. It’s tiring, all this feeling. More tiring than he ever could have believed. But nights are always easier with Boris beside him, even if he does spend half the time checking text messages.

Tonight though, tonight is just for them. Whatever they are now. Blood brother isn’t right, though they are bonded in blood, but lover catches in Theo’s throat. Old habits die hard, and he still finds Kitsey’s forgotten socks in his drawers sometimes. But at night, looking at the way Boris’ hair curls across the pillows, and the way the moonlight catches his nose- crooked in a way you would never notice unless you studied his face as devotionally as Theo does- and the way his eyebrows wrinkle and dart at messy dreams, Theo can just see something over the horizon. He’s getting there. A few more therapy sessions, a few less drinks, and he can see himself arm in arm with Boris at one of Hobie’s little parties, discreet gold wedding bands on their fingers. Holding hands in Central Park like they had never been afraid.

But that will be then, and for now Theo is content to work on falling in love all over again with Polish nursery rhymes and too-strong coffee.

Boris smiles at him from across the table.

“I know you said wait. But I got you a present for Christmas Eve.”

Theo protests with a smile- they’d agreed to leave the presents at Hobie’s, open everything on Christmas Day with Popchyk and Pippa and lots of silly smiles. Tonight, they’d agreed, was just going to be them together, nothing flashy, just a few Christmas specials and hot chocolate and Theo’s head in Boris’ lap. Of course, Theo has broken his promise too- there is a carefully wrapped dvd of S.O.S. Iceberg hidden behind the TV that he plans to pull out with a smile later that evening- oh no this one must not have made it to Hobie’s, oh well might as well open it here- but still he plays the part Boris is clearly hoping he will.

“No, not ‘til tomorrow- Popchyk will be disappointed if he misses anything!” Boris waves his hands in one of his almost apologetic shrugs.

“Well, this seemed a little- ah, personal, to give in front of everyone.”

Theo cocks an eyebrow, and with a nervous grin Boris reaches under his chair and pulls out a ribbon wrapped tube of paper.

“Here, just see for yourself.”

As Theo picks at the ribbon- Boris isn’t so good at the delicate bows, and overcompensates by double knotting- Boris stares, almost nervous. There is still something within him, a remnant of the boy who wept by Theo’s pool, begging Xandra to let him in, that is always afraid he will somehow tear down the world he has built for himself with one misplaced word. Sometimes, when he watches Theo doing the ritual of wiping his glasses, studying the way his nose scrunches at the smudges, everything burbles in a hot mass of joy and dread. As many times as Theo tells him he is not a thief, it is still hard to believe.

Theo has gotten the ribbon off, and stares at Boris, who is biting his lip and watching with brows furrowed at the way Theo’s fingers hover over the paper.

I am, Theo thinks to himself, opening a Christmas present from my boyfriend. He pulls the rolled up poster flat, and doesn’t know what to say.

It is, of course, not even a shadow of the real thing. The image quality isn’t particularly good, a little pixelated at the edges, and it doesn’t catch the light or reflect itself in feather-light brushstrokes. But even flattened and drained, it is still so familiar it catches Theo’s heart and twists it viciously.

His Goldfinch.

He lower the poster so that he can see Boris’ eyes and sees he is grinning.

“Did you get this made custom?”

“No, no- a museum in Amsterdam was selling them in the gift shop. Celebration for it’s return, you know? I thought it- I don’t know, I thought it was funny. For the kitchen, maybe?”

The golden throat, the beady eye, and the gossamer thin chain around its ankle. It all seems so sacrilegious, printed on cheap cardstock. The museum’s logo is in the corner, and for a moment Theo feels something that is almost jealousy. That the thing he agonized over, wept and treasured, the thing that was his and only his so profoundly it was practically a part of him, was now being mass produced and distributed to who- tourists? He can’t stop staring, eyes tracing familiar patterns across wings and delicate feet.

“Well? Is it a bad gift? Am I cruel to make fun of you like this?” Boris asks, and even though he is laughing, Theo hears the quaver of real insecurity in his words. He forgets sometimes that Boris- perfect Boris, confident and jovial and worldly, is as terrified as he is. As unfamiliar and fumbling with pet names and coffee dates and saying ‘I love you’ at the end of phone calls.

He looks at Boris again, at his narrow eyes and teeth too big for his mouth and the single black curl winding over his cheekbone, and for a moment the entire world is transparent. The Goldfinch poster will hang in the kitchen, and the edges will start to curl as Boris constantly fills the kitchen with smoke insisting he can cook. How Hobie will insist on contributing to the apartment’s decor and it will suddenly be filled with embroidered pillows and antique books. The postcards Boris sends from all over the world taped up at the posters edges, though the sometimes utterly incomprehensible notes that Boris writes him on legal pads and hotel stationary are always stashed in Theo’s drawer. Pictures from the first- second really- time Boris convinces Theo to come on a trip with him and they spend three weeks gallivanting in Italy like every other tourist, Boris kissing Theo’s sunburned neck and Theo dragging him along to museums and historic sites. The puppy photos of their new dog- Popchyk Two, Boris calls him, though Theo always flicks his arm- that’s morbid dear, his name is Myshkin. That even though the nightmares will never really stop, neither does Boris tossing an arm over Theo’s waist and pressing his forehead to his shoulder, and when that doesn’t work he flicks on the bedside lamp and reads aloud his foreign language books until Theo at last eases himself back into sleep. Pippa gives them a rainbow flag for their anniversary and they actually hang it out the window and nothing bad happens and they wear each other’s shirts so often they stop differentiating between them and they all smell like the same mix of shampoo and wood varnish and things grow warmer and smaller and while there will always be years they both lost to sadness and hurt there are so many more that they give to each other with smiles and whispers and promises. And even though it is a poor quality picture and will only get worse in the flickering light and inevitable water damage, the beauty of things comes not from within themselves,but from the love they are given, and Theo will love Boris and Boris will love Theo so much that everything near them will radiate with it.

“You like it then?” Boris asks, tapping a chopstick against the side of his plate.

“Yes. I love it.”

And he does.

#the goldfinch #boreo #boris pavlikovsky #theo decker #tgf #donna tartt #skip writes

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

Do you believe life is fair? It’s not always fair, but we’re not promised that it will be. Have you ever made a fan account on Instagram? No. Have you ever bought a youtuber’s merch? Yes. Name three people you want to meet in Heaven. I’d love to see my grandma and grandpa again. Do you believe in Heaven and Hell? Yes.

If so, do you believe you are going to Heaven? I pray that I will. What was the best time of your life? Childhood. Do you feel loved or appreciated for who you are? I know I’m loved. I don’t feel there’s anything I should be appreciated for. What could be the theme song of your life? I don’t know. Don’t you hate being all alone? (if applicable) I like spending some time alone. Sometimes I’m completely alone, other times I’m alone in my room but my family is home. I also like spending time with my family. Now as for figuratively, I do feel I’m alone in a lot of ways. Do you believe rich people are worth more than those who are poor? Wow wtf kind of question is this. When was the last time you read the Bible? I finished my first read-through earlier this month. Do you have any embarrassing health issues? Yes. What are you longing for? A life where I’m in better health, happy, and doing something productive. Who do you wish you could talk to? I miss Ty. What was the name of the college you went to? Nah. Were your college years the best years of your life? No, but I wouldn’t say they were the worst. There were rough times, but what I’d consider my worst years came after. Who was your first roommate? I’ve never had one. Who lived across the hall from you your first year of college? I didn’t live on campus. What was your favorite food they served in the Dining Commons? Do you consider the lunch ladies your friends? Have you ever had a janitorial job? No. Have you ever worked in food service? No. What was your first job? I’ve never had one. What year did you graduate high school? 2008. What’s something of yours that is missing right now? I can’t think of a physical thing that I’m missing. If there is, I’m not aware of it. Do you lose or misplace things a lot? No. Have you ever had a nasty rumor spread about you? No. Has anyone ever tried to ruin your reputation? No. What is your favorite flavor of frosting? Vanilla buttercream. What is your favorite type of donut? Glazed or maple. What is the name of your favorite bakery? I just get stuff like that from the bakery section at the grocery store. What is your current favorite Starbucks drink? White chocolate mocha with soy or a caramel macchiato with soy. I’ve been waiting for them to come out with more fall drinks besides icky pumpkin spice, but they’ve been lagging. Previous years they had other options that I really liked, such as the toasted graham latte. Have you ever been to the very first Starbucks in Seattle? Nope. I’ve never even been to Seattle. Or Washington. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter? Uhhhh. Do you write mostly in cursive or in print? Print. Have you ever called a teacher “mom” by mistake? Yes, in 2nd grade. I was so embarrassed. Do you like the color of your eyes? Meh. I wish I had blue or green eyes. What color are your eyes? Brown. What was the name of the street you grew up on (if you don’t live there now) Nah. What was the name of the first dorm you lived in? Like I said, I never lived on campus. What was the name of your first imaginary friend? I don’t remember having any imaginary friends per se, but my cousins and I would make up other people when we’d play house or school. Does it still feel like summer where you live? It most definitely does and has since May. What is today’s date? September 28, 2019. Who’s birthday is today? One of my cousins. What do you usually get for your birthday? Clothes. Who’s birthday is coming up next? Another one of my cousins next month. What is the last thing that came in the mail for you from Amazon? Phone case. Do you have a Paypal account? Yes. Have you ever had a brand or company reach out to you on Instagram? No. What is the last thing you purchased from Etsy? Some bracelets. Do you sell on Etsy? Nope. What is a childhood dream that hasn’t stuck with you? I wanted to be a teacher when I was a kid. What is something you want to change about your life? My health. What is one thing you are looking forward to coming up? The drive I’m tagging along for later on today to drop off my brother. He’s going to one of my favorite cites for the weekend. Have you decorated for fall yet? Just a little. I have stuff for my room I need to get out, but I haven’t done that yet. I’ve been majorly slacking. I still have my Christmas decorations from last Christmas lmao. They’d only be put away for a shot time now... I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to it honestly. Do you type fast? Yeah. What color was your bedroom growing up? White. Who was your first favorite cartoon character? I don’t recall my first favorite cartoon character. I know my first favorite character in general was Barney, though. I was obsessed. Who is your favorite Disney princess? I don’t really have a favorite one. Do you enjoy typing? I mean, yeah. Definitely over handwriting. What bank do you use? Nah. What grocery store do you shop at the most? Walmart. What is your favorite fast food place? BK, Taco Bell, McDonald’s, Chick-Fil-A, Jack in the Box. I haven’t been much into fast food for the past few months, though. Do you get sauce on your pizza? Uh, yeah? Ew, why would you not get sauce on your pizza. That’s an absolute must. Extra sauce for me. Do you like hamburgers? Meh. Do you like Coca Cola? Yeah. Do you like McDonald’s french fries? Yeah. What color is your hair? Naturally it’s dark brown, but I dye it red. Did you get your hair color from your mom, your dad, or a grandparent? My mom. What is your name (first and middle)? My first name is Stephanie. That’s all ya need to know. What are some other names your parents’ considered when naming you? Andrea. What would you have been named if you had been born the opposite gender? Jesse, I think. Do you prefer tea hot or cold? Hot. What is the best fall drink? Coffee (hot). That’s my favorite all year round. Who was the last person you know who had a baby? One of my cousins. …And what was the baby’s name? He’s named after his dad (my cousin). If you had a boy and a girl, what would they be named? I’m not having kids. Do you clean your room often? I keep it clean, it just gets a little cluttered. I need to go through and get rid of some stuff. Who taught you how to drive? No one has, I don’t drive. What color is your dresser? Brown. Do you have a hope chest? No. Do you have a favorite aunt, and if so, who is it? I have an aunt I’m really close with. Who is your favorite cousin? I was really close to a couple of my cousins, but when I distanced myself and became very recluse and withdrawn these past few years, that included from them as well. :/ Do you look like your mom? Yeah. What does your middle name rhyme with? What does your first name mean? “To be crowned” or something like that. Have you bought next year’s calendar yet? Nah. I don’t use calendars except for the one on my phone. The only reason I had one last year was because I won it in a giveaway. What year did/will you turn 30? I turned 30 this July. Have you found your first gray/white hair yet? I’ve found a few. D: Is your hair long or short? Long. …and which way do you like it best? I like it long. What’s a food that you like, but it makes you feel sick? I just have a messed up stomach and bad indigestion, so. Do you have a problem with needles? Yes. Have you ever had to use an epi pen? No. If so, do you get a bruise when you use it? Have you ever ridden in an ambulence? Yes. If applicable, what color are your glasses? Black. Do you like the name Addison? Sure. Is there anything that you regret getting rid of? Yeah. I have a hard time getting rid of stuff. What have you been saving up to buy for a while? I haven’t been saving up to buy anything, but I do want to start on my Christmas shopping next month. I should have started saving up for that. This month was especially bad for some reason in regards to my spending. Does anything bother you about your past? I have a lot of regrets. Do you get bullied on facebook a lot? No, I never have. Why do you think people bully others? There’s a lot of reasons. Have you ever stood up to a bully? I’ve never been bullied. I was/am the only bully to myself. Do you post on youtube regularly, if you have a channel? I don’t post at all. Which famous person do you think you could be friends with? I don’t know. If you could sit down and talk to anyone for an hour, who would it be? I wish I could do that with my grandma who passed away over 10 years ago. Do you own striped tights? No. Have you ever made your own Halloween costume out of clothes from ur closet? Yes, a few times. Do you own any antique furniture? I personally don’t. What year were you born? 1989. What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? I don’t drink anymore. Do you set goals for yourself? I should. Which country has the coolest flag? I like the American flag. I like Sweden’s flag’s colors. Do you like your country’s flag? Yeah. Which country do you live in? USA. What is your heritage? I really want to do one of those DNA kits to know for sure. When was the last time you received a hug? A few days ago. Do you have anyone who hugs you regularly? Yeah. Who gives the best hugs? My mom. Would you rather have the bottom bunk or top bunk? I’d have to use the bottom bunk. Window seat or aisle seat? I’ve only flown a total of 2 times and both times I sat in the middle. Have you ever thrown up on an airplane? No. Have you ever seen anyone else throw up on an airplane? No. Have you ever gotten sick in the car? Yes. What color pen do you write with the most? Black. Do you still wear clothes from the children’s section? I could. What were your favorite stores when you were in high school? Hot Topic was one of them. For some reason I don’t remember where else I shopped at for clothes. Do you watch Bethany Mota on youtube? Nah. What color is your watch? I don’t have one. What color was the last pair of flip-flops you wore? I don’t wear flip flops. What is your favorite season? Fall and winter. Were you born in your favorite season? No, I was born in the summer. Blech. Have you eaten oatmeal lately? No, it’s been several months since I’ve hat oatmeal. I was eating it pretty regularly the last couple years, though. If you have bangs, do you cut them yourself? I trimmed them myself back when I had bangs. What color was the last cup you drank out of? Red. Do you enjoy graphic designing? I don’t do any graphic designing. Do you enjoy editing photos? I like adding filters, ha. I used to dabble with Photoshop sometimes and made photo edits and gifs. What is your favorite app on your phone? I use YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, Spotify, Instagram, and Snapchat the most. Do you answer your phone every time it rings? Only if it’s my parents or brother. Have you ever called the wrong number? Yeah. Do you usually pick Truth or Dare? Truth. Was your first kiss magical? No, but it was all I knew at the time of course and I was pretty giddy about having had my first kiss, even though it was awkward af lol. Do you like kissing? Yes. Who do you want to be best friends with? My best friend is my mom and I’m perfectly happy with that. Do you like to decoupage things? I don’t do that. Do you have a printer? Yeah. How many tabs are open on your browser right now? 1 window, 5 tabs. Which Internet browser do you use? Chrome. Did you have a Myspace page back in the day? Yep. Do you miss Myspace bulletins? No. They were just posts like these are. Did you ever learn HTML? Just the very basics. Have you ever wanted to start a business? Nope.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 5 years

Text

Will You Give Me Shelter Part Six

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Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader x Annie Weying

Rated: T (for now; will go up later, probably?)

Notes: Not Beta-Read. 1 light swear

Summary: After that dinner, my relationship with Eddie was better than it had ever been. In the weeks following, Annie and I had started texting daily (which started with an adorably devious ‘I got your number from Eddie’s phone >:)’ ).

“You two are killing me.” Annie sounded equally amused and bored. I glanced away from my screen, smiling to see her leaning back in Eddie’s usual chair, her arm thrown over the back, head propped on her hand.

“She’s killing you, babe, not me,” Eddie said from where he’d taken to pacing in front of my desk.

“No. No, it’s definitely both of you,” Annie said.

After that dinner, my relationship with Eddie was better than it had ever been. In the weeks following, Annie and I had started texting daily (which started with an adorably devious ‘I got your number from Eddie’s phone >:)’ ). Neither Eddie nor I brought the incident in the front-hall up, either. Maybe he’d had more to drink than I’d thought and didn’t remember. What was more likely, though, was that we had mutually silently agreed to never bring it up.

I often found myself thinking about it, but I tried not to dwell on it for too long. I liked working with and being around Eddie too much to jeopardize our relationship, and I had never gotten so close to anyone in such a short period of time as I had to Annie.

The truth was, beyond the near-kiss with Eddie, I sometimes thought that Annie was flirting with me.

That made me feel stupid. There was no rhyme or reason as to why she’d be flirting. She had Eddie. And while she had casually dropped into one of our recent conversations that she had dated women in the past, I was sure it didn’t mean anything. I took it as a sign that I had been out of the dating game for too long, and was perceiving the most innocent of comments as something they weren’t.

They had missed their dinner reservation that night-- Annie had been called back to the firm only a few minutes after she’d left, and Eddie had stayed behind to work a little longer. By the time Annie made it to the office, Eddie and I had ordered takeout for the three of us.

It had been almost two hours since then. Annie’s coat had come off, and I’d found out that it was basically twice as attractive to watch women roll their sleeves up as it was to watch a man do it.

“It’s her, I promise,” Eddie said, rounding the desk to crouch behind Annie’s chair and rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Obviously Alvarez hadn’t been expecting the defendant come right out and say that. That clearly wasn’t part of their game plan.” I shook my head, turning back and crossing my arms.

“A good lawyer doesn’t ask a question that they don’t already know the answer to. So either he’s a shitty lawyer or he’s playing up his reaction for effect,” I argued.

“She’s right,” Annie piped up. I smiled at her, mouthing my thanks. My smile widened when she winked at me.

“Oh, no. I can’t have you two ganging up on me,” Eddie whined.

“Now who’s playing up his reaction for effect,” Annie said, lightly flicking the top of Eddie’s head.

——————

“You should come over for brunch this weekend,” Annie said, looping her arm through mine as we headed out of the building. I frowned a little.

“I can’t this weekend.” Annie pouted, and I spotted Eddie’s hand giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Next weekend?” He asked. I nodded, smiling.

“Sounds good.” We said our goodbyes and I turned down the block as the two of them got on Eddie’s motorcycle.

——————

“Another date? What has gotten into you?” Maddy asked, impressed, watching me rifle through my closet. I glanced back at her. I hadn’t told her that last time hadn’t been anything of the sort but felt like at this point, it was too late.

This time, however, it really was a date.

After dinner at Eddie and Annie’s, between Annie’s albeit light interrogation and the stupid thing I’d almost done, I’d made the decision to sign up for a few dating apps.

I hadn’t spoken with most of the people I’d matched with, but most of the ones I had spoken to had either only wanted to hook-up or had barely gotten beyond the small-talk phase.

“So how long have you been talking to this guy anyway?” Maddie asked.

“A couple of weeks. We got coffee last week— I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting all excited,” I added quickly. Maddy narrowed her eyes at me.

“Tell me he’s cute, at least. Was he one of my picks?”

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, pulling up Mark’s profile and passing the phone to her. Her irritated gaze disappeared fairly quickly at his profile.

“He’s hot.” I rolled my eyes at her tone.

“What, you don’t think I can pull that kind of action down?” I asked, glancing back at her.

“Oh, you obviously can, this is the proof, wow.” I snorted, pulling a summer dress out of the closet and holding it up to myself, biting my lip. “So did that last date not go anywhere?” Maddy asked. I could feel her watching my face in the mirror, and I was careful not to let my face fall. “Nope. Didn’t go anywhere.”

——————

“Good, you’re up.”

I blinked tiredly, rubbing my eyes.

“Eddie? It’s like two in the morning,” I mumbled, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“I need you to come in. Like, now.”

“To work?”

“Yeah. I’m already here. And I have coffee and bagels.”

“Where the hell did you get a bagel at 2 AM?”

“We can talk about that later.” He paused.

“I know, I’m asking a huge favor, but just— come on, this is big.”

I groaned, running my hand through my hair.

“Okay. Okay okay, I’m on my way.” I hung up before he could thank me.

“You okay?” I glanced behind me, smiling a little to see Mark rolling onto his side.

“Got called into work,” I said.

“Well, hey, if you don’t want sleepover, just say so.” I smiled, leaning down and pecking his lips before I got up to hunt for my clothes.

——————

I probably looked like hell, and like I wanted to kill him, but Eddie smiled when he saw me nonetheless.

“One of the overnighters couldn’t handle this?” I asked, sliding into my seat and waiting for my equipment to boot up.

“Not the way I’d want and you know it,” Eddie said, already in his usual spot. I rested my chin on my hand, closing my eyes briefly as opening them again when I felt the coldness of my monitor light flicker on. I sighed, pushing my hair back from my face. I wordlessly held my hand out for Eddie’s drive but got nothing.

I turned my head, brows raising when I saw him staring at me.

“What?” I asked. He cleared his throat.

“You’re uh— I’ve never seen you in glasses before,” he commented.

“Contacts are tricky at 2 AM,” I said.

“And you have a hickey,” he added. I felt myself flush, fighting the urge to reach up and cover it with my hand. What good would that do? He’d already seen it.

“You gonna give me the footage or what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie patted his pockets down before finally locating it and handing it over.

I worked almost on autopilot, letting Eddie tell me what and where to cut. By the time I was really waking up, I realized what it was: a ride along for the capture of Evan Smithson, a man that had escaped prison nearly a month ago.

It was like he’d been waiting for me to realize, and when I turned to him wide-eyed, he was grinning.

“I know,” he said. He slid his arm around my chair, turning us back toward the screen.

“Come on, we need this ready by six and we’re almost done.”

——————

The news of Smithson’s capture was splashed across every major paper and news outlet by ten that morning, but we had gotten it out first. I didn’t even bother asking Eddie who he’d gotten in good with to be allowed to tail them.

Lewis had been so pleased with our work that he’d given the both of us the rest of the day, and Eddie and I had packed up faster than ever before.

I was more than a little clumsy in my sleepiness, but Eddie was as sure-footed as ever. I’d nearly spilled an entire cup of cold coffee on my editing bay, but Eddie had caught it, righting it before any more than a few drops could hit the desk.

“Turn off the fucking sun,” I grumbled as we stepped outside. Eddie snorted, arm sliding around my shoulder and drawing me a little closer as we walked. In another circumstance, I might’ve pulled away or brushed him off, but I was too tired to care.

“We gotta get you home before you totally pass out,” he said. I hummed, agreeing. He let go of me to hail a cab, and I leaned against his back as he flagged one down.

——————

“Up, come on.” I grunted as Eddie lightly shook me. I got out of the car, not bothering to fight him on paying the cab driver. I was surprised to find us outside his and Annie’s place.

“... this is not my house,” I said, watching him find his keys. He looked back at me.

“You know I think you’ve got the makings of an investigative reporter,” he grinned, “I couldn’t remember where you live. If you want I can call you a cab,” he added. I shrugged, stepping inside.

“Sure. I’m just gonna,” I let myself into the living room, sitting in the corner of their couch.

“‘M just gonna rest my eyes,” I mumbled, letting them close for a moment.

——————

“Oh, honey. Eddie really put you through the wringer, didn’t he,” I heard. I hummed, leaning up into the fingers brushing my hair away from my face.

“You with me?” The voice asked. I took a moment to process before I shook my head. I heard a chuckle.

“Alright. You go back to sleep.”

——————

“She up yet?” Eddie asked, setting his coffee mug down as Annie came in. She shook her head, sitting down across from him.

“Out like a light. She must not have been sleeping when you called her.”

“No, don’t think she was,” Eddie agreed. Annie’s lips twisted, remembering the bright hickey she’d spotted.

“Thought she wasn’t seeing anyone,” She said, glancing back into the living room.

“Maybe she wasn’t.”

“Maybe she still isn’t,” Annie offered, “I’ll ask.” Eddie shook his head.

“No reason for you to ask.”

“We’re friends. Friends talk about these things,” Annie said firmly.

“Well, just don’t talk about them when I’m in the room,” Eddie requested. Annie watched as he got up to put his mug in the sink.

“It could work, you know,” She murmured, and frowned as his shoulders went rigid.

“Just leave it alone, babe,” Eddie begged. He turned back to her, tipping her head up for a kiss.

“‘M gonna go get some sleep,” He said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before heading to their room.

#Eddie Brock #Eddie Brock x Reader #Eddie Brock x Annie Weying #Eddie Brock x Reader x Annie Weying #Eddie Brock/You #Eddie Brock Imagine #Will You Give Me Shelter #Eddie Brock x You x Annie Weying #Eddie Brock/You/Annie Weying #Annie Weying

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flightfoot · 5 years

Text

Memories of Godly Selfishness Ch.4

So I meant to get this out by April Fool’s Day. Clearly I missed that deadline. Still, maybe it’s for the best. I ended up having more to say than I thought, and it’s more angsty than funny.

“Why did I agree to watch this again?”

“Because it’s a marvelous educational film directed by and starring moi.”

Meg stared at me. I relented. “...and because you lost a bet.”

We’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood a few days ago to recuperate and sort out our next move. I’d been delighted to see my children again. If they tell you I blubbered like a baby and couldn’t string three coherent words together though, they’re lying.

The Demeter Cabin welcomed Meg with open arms. She hadn’t had much chance to get to know her siblings due to... ah... circumstances, but from the tears in the corners of her eyes, I could tell she was happy to see her family too.

We’d each sat and ate at our respective tables and got to talking. I’d mentioned to my kids how proud I was of the orientation film I’d made, and how Meg had deprived herself of it. They had some weird screwed-up expressions on their face after I said that, which I still haven’t figured out what they meant. Austin came up with a brilliant idea to get Meg to watch it; have a small capture the flag competition between just the Demeter and Apollo Cabins. If we won, anyone who hadn’t already seen the Orientation film would have to watch it (both cabins insisted on that condition. Apparently both had seen it recently and didn’t want to rewatch it for some reason) while if they won, the Apollo cabin would have to muck out the Pegasus stables.

Naturally we won, because my children are brilliant and wonderful. The Demeter cabin put up a fair fight though. It took me half-an-hour to pick all the burrs out of my hair.

For some reason, the Campers acted like Meg was about to die. They all said that they’d work on making a shroud for her. I still can’t understand why. Sometimes I think I understand demigods, and then they do something like that. Perhaps it’s an inside joke?

In any case, the demigods had helped us set up the viewing equipment and then hastily left before the film could start, leaving just me and Meg.

The movie started with darkness, as all good movies do. A spotlight turned on, illuminating my divine self.

I nearly cried. My long, golden, flowing hair! My cheekbones! My flawless skin! My eight-pack abs! Oh, the cruelty of Zeus knew no bounds! He couldn’t have let me keep my hair at least? The medium-length hair I was now sporting was no good for flipping dramatically, or waving majestically in the breeze! Ah, and that chiton I was wearing. I could never pull it off in my current form, but it showed off my muscular godly thighs so well!

On the screen, I held out a book. I cleared my throat, “A poem by Apollo, recited dramatically by... Apollo:

O Immortal Chiron, Centaur wise and true, Trainer of our heroes, Just remember who taught you. “

Speaking of heroes....

I glanced at Meg, gauging her reaction to seeing my divine self. Her eyes were wide with shock, her mouth slightly agape. “That’s YOU?!” she exclaimed, looking back-and-forth between my appearance on-screen, and now.

“Yes,” I said wistfully. “That’s what I normally look like... mostly. I change things a bit, sometimes appearing older, sometimes younger, changing eye colors and hairstyles too, but that’s a pretty typical look for me.”

She studied me some more, looking less shocked and more inquisitive now. “You look nothing like that now.”

I groaned. “I KNOW.”

She looked back at the screen with some trepidation, as I gave narration. “You’re not gonna bend over, are you? I don’t wanna see your butt.”

I huffed. “I’ll have you know, my butt is perfect.”

“Don’t care, don’t wanna see it.”

I grumbled a little, but secretly I agreed. I’d seen enough of my butt when the gigantic statue of me - with Nero’s face plastered on it - rampaged around Camp Half-Blood.

The next segment started up a few minutes later. This time I was dressed in a glittery suit and my hair was slicked back. An a cappella choir of demigods stood behind me, all dressed in suits. I pointed to the boys and then the girls side, directing them to start singing the background tune I needed. In the present day, I appreciated their ability to harmonize. Clearly none of Hermes’ children were in this segment. I still remembered Cecil’s complete inability to follow rhythm when we needed to appeal the Mama Myrmekes.

After they were properly warmed up, I announced:

“Ladies and Gentlemen... the Lyre Choir!”

As the choir sang a soft, slow background melody, I began singing.

“Marble may be marble-lous,

And wood might be good.

Stone’s a sturdy choice,

for this half-blood neighborhood.

But for my children’s cabin,

I demand something more divine.

so give me precious metal,

and make it GOLD every time!”

I hummed along to the melody. I’d forgotten I’d put in musical segments, but I was glad I did. Nothing could make an educational film entertaining like music!

[Everyone sings]: Gold, gold, gold, gold - there’s nothing quite so bright!

Gold, gold, gold, gold - it reflects Apollo’s might!

I stared at my hands for a moment at that one. I certainly didn’t feel mighty now. And not just because I’d lost my power. I hadn’t been able to protect my children. They’d been kidnapped because of me. Jason had died because of me. The Emperors were still out there, still intent on subjugating all the demigods, like how Nero kidnapped Meg. And Python, my old nemesis, still waited for me, plotting my destruction.

But even if I’d still been a god, what would have changed?

I would have gone after Python, scared as I was of him. I would have defeated him or died trying.

But not much more than that.

Maybe I would have intervened when my own children went missing - if they went missing. That had at least partly been to bait me. I could see leaving a hint to their location, assuming I knew where they were.

I wouldn’t have intervened prior to that. Demigods go missing? Who cares! They go missing or die all the time.

The battle at the Waystation? The struggle against Caligula on the boats? Maybe I would’ve watched. But I wouldn’t have intervened. For all my supposed might, for all the difference in power between my godly self and my mortal self, My mortal self had done more good, made more of a difference than my godly self would have. Just because I was more powerful as a god, didn’t make me mightier.

It reminded me of a story my old friend Aesop told me, about a miser and his gold.

A miser had acquired some gold and buried it in the ground. He visited it for years, digging it up to stare at it and then re-burying it. One day it was stolen. Grief-stricken, the miser cried and wailed, making such a fuss that a traveler stopped by and asked him what was wrong. The miser confessed that someone had stolen the gold he’d hidden. The traveler had asked why he put it in such an inaccessible place, where he’d have difficulty getting it out when he wanted to spend some. The miser, affronted, replied that he’d never even think of spending his gold. At that, the traveler had tossed a stone into the hole, and told him to cover it up, that it had just as much worth to him as the gold he’d lost.

I had not appreciated the moral when I first heard the story. After all, the gold was lustrous and valuable. The stone was not. Even just possessing that gold made the miser feel powerful and rich.

Now I had another view on it. My divinity was like the gold, hidden away, jealously guarded, to be obsessed over, not used. Even as a god, an Olympian, I had done little good for my children, or the people I now counted as my friends. I had power, but I’d hardly used it to help, even when the problems plaguing the demigods were divine in nature, not mortal.

Now... now it was like the gold was stolen, and replaced with a handful of drachma. Not nearly as valuable as the gold, but every piece was actually being used to better the world, instead of being merely stared at.

I was mightier now, as a mortal, than I had ever been as a god, because I was willing to try my hardest to help - something I would either not do as a god, or not do much of.

[Divine!Apollo cuts off the choir, restarting his solo]

Silver suits my sister,

But unattended, it can tarnish.

Roofs of thatch are fine, I guess,

But why not add some varnish?

Vines of wine are creepy,

Meg snorted and rolled her eyes at that one, giving a look as if to say ‘Really? you said that’? Out loud, she said, “Wine isn’t a vine. And grapevines aren’t creepy.”

And abalone smells like fish,

As my divine self continued singing, I replied, “I needed a rhyme. And they are creepy. Why, I remember this one time with Dionysus...”

She shushed me. On the one hand, I was annoyed that she didn’t want to hear my story. On the other hand, it meant that she wanted to hear my singing.

Hah! She could claim she didn’t like my singing as much as she wanted, but I knew the truth.

Red’s too strong a color,

And gray is boring-ish.

That’s why my children’s cabin,

Is made of something more divine.

I’m worth that precious metal -

So make it GOLD every time!

[All] Gold, gold, gold, gold...

I saw Meg mouthing along to the last line. I tactfully did not mention it.

Another segment started up. This time, I wore a white T-shirt, jeans, a leather jacket, and some awesome-looking sunglasses. I lounged on a throne beneath a neon sign proclaiming “Fortunately Apollo’s Here!”

I frowned. What was this segment about?

On-screen, my godly self shouted, “Next!”

A female camper entered and asked, “O, Great Apollo, god of prophecy, tell me, will I ever find love?”

“Find love? I didn’t know it was missing?”

Beside me, I heard Meg groan as she buried her face in her hands.

Meanwhile, I winced at the reminder of my being the god of prophecy... or rather NOT being the god of prophecy.

Back on the film, I cried out, “Next!”

A male camper entered this time.

“O, Great Apollo, god of prophecy, tell me, will I ever be rich?”

“What’s your name, child?”

“Albert, Great Apollo.”

“Well, Albert Greatapollo, I foresee only one way for you to be rich...”

“What is it?”

“Change your name to Richard.”

At that, Meg let out an even LOUDER groan. “You make such dad jokes.”

I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I had the feeling I’d just been insulted.

A second male camper entered and asked, “O, Great Apollo, god of prophecy, will I ever discover who my godly parent is?”

“Dear child, the answer is right in front of you.”

“Really? Where?”

My divine self stood up and spread his arms, “Right in front of you.”

“I don’t get it. Am I missing a clue?”

“You’re missing a clue alright. One might even call you clueless!”

Meg frowned slightly as the segment ended. “You hadn’t claimed him before that?”

I frowned, hoping I could remember the child. Luckily, my memory felt like cooperating. “I’d claimed him years before that. This was all scripted, he just pretended not to know I was his father.”

Meg nodded, the frown disappearing from her face in favor of a thoughtful expression.

In another segment I jogged backwards across the beach, shooting arrows from my favorite golden bow, campers in full battle gear jogging behind me in military formation. I flashed a blinding smile at the camera as my golden hair flowed behind me. In the present, I bit back a sob.

My godly self began a rousing military chant, the campers repeating each line:

“I don't know but I've been told!”

“We don't know but we've been told!”

“The sun god's got a bow of gold!”

“He's the best shot in the land!”

“ He's the best shot in the land!”

Suddenly, my godly self tripped and landed on his butt. Meg erupted into giggles. I couldn’t help joining her. At the time it was kinda embarrassing, but with what I’d been dealing with the last few months, I was kinda used to that now. And it WAS pretty funny.

“ Augh! I've fallen in the sand!”

No longer being able to follow my godly self, the campers improvised, jogging n circles around me instead.

“ Augh! He's fallen in the sand!”

“ I meant to do that, so don't laugh!”

I snorted. Like anyone had actually believed that.

“He meant to do that, so don't laugh!”

My divine self attempted to get back up. Key word being ‘attempted’. He fell back down on his butt.

“Ow! I hurt my godly calf!”

At this point, both Meg and I were guffawing so hard our sides hurt. I couldn’t BELIEVE I left this in, but I was glad I did. I needed a good laugh, even if it was at my own expense.

“Ow! He hurt his godly calf!”

My godly self glowered at the campers and started to glow. The laughter died in my throat. “If you want to live another day ...”

“ If we want to live another day ...”

My godly self glowed brighter. I sat back heavily, mirth forgotten. Meg had also quieted down, choosing to glare at my past self. I joined her. REALLY? There just HAD to be an appearance of stupid murderous Apollo. I highly doubt I would actually have hurt those campers, but THEY didn’t know that, and I wasn’t COMPLETELY sure I wouldn’t have. Gods I was a jerk.

“STOP REPEATING WHAT I SAY!” my divine(ly stupid) self shouted.

“STOP - um... “

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least they knew better than to purposely antagonize my godly self. I really, REALLY wished I could reach through time and smack myself. A lot.

Meg was quiet.

I looked over at her, worried.

"I shouldn't have said those things."

Meg looked back at me. "Yeah. You shouldn't have. It was stupid."

"I won't do it again," I promised.

Meg's face softened slightly. "I know."

New segment, this time with myself as a game show host. I stared longingly at the open shirt, bright gold lamé jacket I wore. Oh how I wished I could wear some of my old attire! Alas, glittery golden lamé anything had fallen out of fashion for some inconceivable reason. I’d tried to convert Meg to the lamé side, but she kept misunderstanding and thinking I was saying “lame”. ...Or she was teasing me. I honestly wasn’t sure at this point.

I (by which I mean my godly self) opened up the segment:

“Welcome to our first annual Camp Half-Blood quiz show! Please give a warm welcome to our contestants. From Athena cabin... Bea Wise! From Ares cabin... Arnold Beefcake! And representing our cloven-hoofed friends... Ferdinand Underwood the satyr!”

Wait, what?

Underwood? Like GROVER Underwood?

I perked up, listening intently.

Meg leaned towards and whispered, “Is he related to..?”

I whispered back, “Probably. Shh.”

I was still talking on-screen. “Contestants, you know the rules. I ask a question. If you know the answer, ding your bell. Are you ready?”

Wise tapped her temple. “I think, therefore I am.”

Beefcake flexed. “Do your worst!”

Ferdinand, meanwhile...

“Um, I ate my bell.”

Meg giggled. I smiled. Ah, satyrs and their insatiable appetite. That’s one thing Grover had in common with his maybe-relative!

On-screen, my godly self cried, “Excellent! Then let’s begin. First question. Name the serpent I slayed.”

I sat back and scowled. Really? Did I HAVE to remind myself of Python? It’s not like he occupied my nightmares enough already. Nope. He HAD to crop up during the day too. That serpent, always popping up when he wasn’t wanted. For a moment I fantasized about asking Hephaestus to make some sort of serpent-killing machine. Alas, there was no way it would be that easy.

*Ding ding*

Bea hit her bell. Of course she did. Athena’s kids were usually the most knowledgeable of all the demigods. She had this in the bag... right?

I frowned. That didn’t seem right... I couldn’t think of what happened though. I stopped trying to remember and just watched. It’s not like I’d have to wait long for answers.

“Wise?” my divine self called on her.

“That’s not a question.”

I snorted. That also wasn’t an answer.

My past self agreed. “Sorry, ‘That’s not a question.” is incorrect.”

“No, wait, I meant-”

*Ding, ding*

“The serpent was Python!” Beefcake declared.

“Correct!”

Beefcake flashed two thumbs up. “Ayyyyy!”

“Next question-”

Ferdinand chimed in. “So should I just say ding-ding if I know the answer or-”

My godly self ignored him. “Who falsely accused me of flaying him alive after a music contest?”

Really? WHY would I bring that up? Especially since it was my fault I was ‘falsely accused’ of that anyway. I spread that rumor in the first place! I hadn’t wanted people to think I was ‘soft’. Nowadays I regretted it and had been trying to quash it.

Ferdinand’s eyes went wide. He withdrew slightly, looking freaked out. Scared.

I felt terrible. I should’ve known that would freak him out. Why did I include that question, KNOWING that I would invite a satyr?

Of course I knew the answer to that. I hadn’t cared. A satyr was scared. So what? Why should I care about his feelings?

Heck, even AFTER I’d turned mortal, I didn’t care much for a while. I’d freaked out Woodrow. I hadn’t meant to, but me being in his class, playing music, caused him to beg me to not flay him. I’d reassured him at the time that I wouldn’t, but I hadn’t really absorbed WHY he’d been so freaked out. Now I did. I was the satyr’s boogeyman. I didn’t want to be. Not anymore.

What could I do to change that?

Maybe I should ask Grover. I was planning on apologizing to him for that Celedon business anyway. Now I had two more things to add to the list. Ask about Ferdinand so I could apologize to him, and come up with a way to put the satyrs fear of me to rest.

Ferdinand blanched, “Blaa-blaa!”

My godly self ignored Ferdinand’s freak-out. Of course he did. “I’m sorry, ‘Blaa-blaa’ is incorrect. Also, you didn’t ring in. The correct answer is Marsyas the satyr.”

Wise was indignant. “Hang on! I knew that! You didn’t give me a chance to answer!”

“He thought he was so great on those stupid twin pipes, but I sure showed him.”

I glared at my past self, wishing I could shoot lasers from my eyes into the past. Sadly, nothing happened.

Beefcake cheered, “Yeah, you did!”

Wise was annoyed, “I thought you were falsely accused.”

Ferdinand continued freaking out, “Blaa-blaa!”

I felt a pang of guilt. I REALLY hoped this part wasn’t dragged out much longer.

Mercifully, my past self gave me a break. “Final question: Do you know what time it is?”

*Ding-ding*

Wise looked at the sun’s location, clearly using it to tell time. “Two twen-”

“It’s dancing time!”

My godly self ripped off his jacket and shirt and started Hula-hooping.

“Hit it boys!”

Satyrs danced in, flailing ribbon sticks, playing reed pipes, and cavorting around my divine self.

Meg stared at the scene. “This is SO stupid.”

I just grinned.

Beefcake was thrilled “Oh yeah!” He ripped off his shirt, twirling it in the air. “Now it’s a party!”

Wise rubbed her temples, thoroughly exasperated. I’d seen that same look on Athena’s face several times, along with her descendant’s faces. I had long been convinced that it was as much an Athena trait as overly detailed plans were. “I can’t believe I studied for this.”

“Ding-ding?” Ferdinand chimed in as the segment ended.

“That was awful.”

“Well the style was a little... dated, I admit, and maybe it COULD have been more informative, but...”

“Nope. Don’t try to save it. That was horrible.”

Okay, yeah, I could see where she was coming from. Looking back on it now, it wasn’t really the BEST way to present the info. I winced. Especially since most of it came off as an ego trip for me.

It wasn’t just the style of the video that was outdated anyways. Between Thalia’s tree, the Golden Fleece, all the additional cabins and the new rules regarding gods claiming their kids (I winced slightly, thinking of that one. It REALLY shouldn’t have taken a young demigod FORCING us gods to claim all our children and to give recognition of non-Olympian demigods), the Athena Parthenos, and the Grove of Dodona, there had been a LOT of changes. Not to mention the existence of the Roman camp.

Hmm... if it needs an update...

“Well... when this quest is over, if I survive, why don’t we make a NEW orientation film?”

Meg looked over at me cautiously, though her eyes glinted slightly. “This won’t be an excuse to stroke your ego this time, right?”

“Why, I never!” I cried dramatically, clutching one hand to my chest. “I am the pinnacle of modesty, I would never dream of it!”

Meg giggled. I grinned.

Still smiling, she warned, “I’m not sticking around if you rip off your shirt.”

“But I pull it off so well!”

She stared at me.

“Fiiiiine,” I crossed my arms and pouted. Secretly I was happy we could relax and banter like this. The past few weeks had been stressful. We needed to decompress.

“Maybe we should get everyone’s help with the new video?” Meg suggested.

“I was planning on it,” I replied, slightly more seriously. “Being mortal has shown me that there are some things you don’t realize are important unless you’ve been in that situation. The demigods will probably have a better idea what sorts of things other demigods need to know, the sorts of things they WISH they knew when they started camp.”

Meg nodded.

I grinned, adding, “We’re keeping the Hokey Pokey border song, though.”

She groaned, “It was TERRIBLE, no!”

“Oh, come on! I saw the way you smiled while I and the demigods were singing it. ‘It lets the demigods in! It shuts the monsters out! It keeps the half-bloods safe, but turns mortals all about! It’s Misty, and it’s magic, and it makes me want to shout: the border is all about!”

Meg covered her ears, steadfastly ignoring my existence as we exited the Big House.

A few hours later, I stood near the Woods, watching Grover chat with some dryads. Meg had offered to come with me for this, but I’d turned her down. I wanted to have a private chat with Grover. Besides, I didn’t want to eat into her time with her siblings. She hadn’t gotten to know them very well last time, and I didn’t know how much longer we’d be here this time.

Whatever chat Grover was having with the dryads appeared to be winding down. I approached him.

He turned around. “Apollo? What is it?”

I sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled. No need to be nervous. I was just apologizing to a friend.

“Grover? Can we talk in private? Please?”

He looked confused and a little worried. “Um... okay. Where do you want to go?”

“My kids are all out right now, so we can use the Me cabin... if you’re okay with that.”

Silently he mouthed ‘the me cabin’, looking confused. Realization slowly dawned on his face. “OH. Oh right! That makes sense. Yeah, that’s fine.”

We walked over to the cabins. I fidgeted slightly. Come on, I apologized to Percy, and he’s MUCH more intimidating! This shouldn’t be so hard!

That had been more natural, though. I didn’t have to go out of my way to make it happen.

I closed the door behind us and turned to face Grover.

“So Apollo, what’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. Yeah, that seemed like a good way to start.

He looked confused. “Um, for what?”

I rubbed the back of my head. “You know how I sometimes had flashbacks, re-experiencing the past?”

“Yeaaaah...?”

“Well lately, Meg and I have gotten sucked into flashbacks together, sometimes with others. First time it happened, we were sucked into my memories, and I saw how I acted as a god from an outside perspective. One of the things I saw was that quest I sent you and Percy on. You know, when you got back my Celedon for me?”

“Oh. Oh yeah, I remember that. Heh. It’s only been two years, but so much has happened...”

“Yeah...” they’d been through so much... “so I... just wanted to apologize for... you know... forcing you to go on a quest on your birthday.... and forgetting it was your birthday... and forgetting your name... and threatening to kill you if you damaged my lyre.”

Awkward. This was SO awkward.

He grimaced. “I was scared at the time. I really thought you might incinerate me. That was the WORST birthday I’ve ever had.”

I avoided his eyes, a lump forming in my throat.

“Still,” he continued. “It wasn’t that bad, as far as quests go. At least you made sure to choose people who could definitely do it without dying. And it’s nowhere NEAR the worst thing that a god’s thrown at us.”

“I’m... I’m not going to do that again. It wasn’t right to make you endanger yourselves when I could have done it just as easily. She was my responsibility, not yours. I’m going to try to stop other gods from doing that too. Endangering mortals unnecessarily, I mean. If I can’t stop them, I’ll try to help as much as I can. I... I’m sick of people dying needlessly.”

Grover blinked and studied my face, as if seeing me for the first time.

He exhaled, smiling slightly. “I am too. Thanks.”

I suddenly remembered the other revelations I came to while watching the orientation video. “Do you know where Ferdinand Underwood is? I rewatched the orientation video I made recently. I really freaked him out when I talked about Marsyas, and I wanted to apologize to him too.”

“Oh, uh... he’s not around anymore. Percy, Annabeth, and I stumbled across him years ago. Apparently he’d stumbled into Medusa’s lair and been turned into a statue.”

“My condolences.”

An long pause followed. How do you continue on from that?

Eventually I decided to just plow on through with what I was saying.

“I didn’t flay Marsyas. I just made that up to sound scary. You know that, right?”

“I wondered. After traveling with you for a week, I couldn’t imagine you doing that.”

“I want to put that myth to rest. Stop satyrs from thinking that I’ll skin them if they offend me. And REALLY put it to rest, not the mixed signal thing I was doing before. Will you help me?”

He thought for a minute. “...Okay. I think I know how to do that. We can start now, if you like.”

Now?

“How do you propose I do that?”

He smiled. “Being a Lord of the Wild has privileges. The satyr school is having classes right now. We can talk to the teacher about allowing you to be a guest speaker. I’ll warn you, though. A lot of the kids will probably be scared of you. The Marsyas story is used to warn us about the consequences of getting on the wrong side of a god, starting from an early age. Some of them might freak out a little.”

My chest tightened. For a minute it felt like I was being squeezed by Python. I was used as a warning to kids, to tell them that they had to be good, or else the big, scary god would kill them slowly and painfully. I really WAS the boogeyman. I didn’t like it.

“I don’t... I don’t want to freak them out. I’ve caused them enough distress. Any advice?”

“Be gentle. Don’t get angry or upset. They’ll calm down when they realize that you won’t hurt them. Nowadays, you’re nothing like what we were warned of. They’ll realize that too.”

I breathed out, relaxing slightly. This was fixable. And I could start fixing it NOW, on my own. I could make things better even BEFORE I regained my godhood.

“Thanks.”

As we exited the Me cabin, Grover looked back at me. “I know I didn’t say this before, but... Apollo, you’re a good friend.”

A warmth filled my chest as Grover walked towards the Satyr school.

‘You’re a good friend.’

I never thought those words would matter to me so much.

I’d change things with what little power I had.

I’d do my best.

But I didn’t have to do it alone.

I had friends to help me.

#trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey #memories of godly selfishness #grover underwood #fanfiction #apollo #camp half-blood confidential #the trials of apollo #toa

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