#trying to inject some life back into this blog

[galathynius]

2023 reading log

the uncensored picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde / jan. 2-9 / 4 stars

buzz saw: the improbable story of how the washington nationals won the world series by jesse dougherty / jan. 9-11 / 4.5 stars

proposal by meg cabot / jan. 17 / 3 stars

sidelined: sports, culture, and being a woman in america by julie dicaro / jan. 12-17 / 4 stars

remembrance by meg cabot / jan. 18-19 / 3 stars

how sweet it is by dylan newton / jan. 19-20 / 3 stars

daughters of sparta by claire heywood / jan. 21-22 / 3 stars

highly suspicious and unfairly cute by talia hibbert / jan. 22 / 4 stars

gentlemen prefer blondes: the diary of a professional lady by anita loos / jan. 23-26 / 3 stars

hell bent by leigh bardugo / jan. 26-31 / 4 stars

all about love: new visions by bell hooks / jan. 22-31 / 4 stars

daisy jones & the six by taylor jenkins reid / jan. 31-feb. 2 / 4 stars

everything i know about love: a memoir by dolly alderton / feb. 2-9 / 4 stars

emma by jane austen / feb. 11-19 / 4 stars

fake it till you bake it by jamie wesley / feb 19-23 / 3.5 stars

my dark vanessa by kate elizabeth russell / feb. 23-26 / 4 stars

throttled by lauren asher / feb. 26-28/ 2 stars

the locker room by meghan quinn / mar. 1-5 / 1 star

come as you are: the surprising new science that will transform your sex life by emily nagoski / feb. 17-mar. 5 / 4.5 stars

pucked by helena hunting / mar. 5-11 / 3 stars

legendborn by tracy deonn / mar 12-23 / 4.5 stars

unadulterated something by m.j. duncan / mar. 23-25 / 4 stars

the fifth season by n.k. jemisin / mar. 26-apr. 15 / 4 stars

how to fake it in hollywood by ava wilder / apr. 16-19 / 3.5 stars

sharp objects by gillian flynn / apr. 19-22 / 4 stars

the homewreckers by mary kay andrews / apr. 22-25 / 3.5 stars

the kiss curse by erin sterling / apr. 25-26 / 3.5 stars

the wedding crasher by mia sosa / apr. 26-27 / 3 stars

let’s get physical: how women discovered exercise and reshaped the world by danielle friedman / mar. 25-apr. 27 / 4 stars

mile high by liz tomforde / apr. 27-may 6 / 1.5 stars

happy place by emily henry / may 6-7 / 5 stars

carrie soto is back by taylor jenkins reid / may 7 / 4 stars

the spanish love deception by elena armas / may 8 / 2 stars

neon gods by katee robert / may 8-9 / 1 star

love in the time of serial killers by alicia thompson / may 9-11 / 4 stars

the bodyguard by katherine center / may 11 / 4 stars

the intimacy experiment by rosie danan / may 11-12 / 3 stars

upgrade by blake crouch / may 12-13 / 4 stars

by any other name by lauren kate / may 13 / 3 stars

the dead romantics by ashley poston / may 15-17 / 4 stars

the ballad of songbirds and snakes by suzanne collins / may 19-28 / 3.5 stars

so many ways to lose: the amazin’ true story of the new york mets—the best worst team in baseball by devin gordon / may 13-jun. 4 / 4 stars

iron widow by xiran jay zhao / jun. 5-7 / 3 stars

the grace year by kim liggett / jun. 7-8 / 4 stars

the last magician by lisa maxwell / jun. 9-11 / 4.5 stars

little fires everywhere by celeste ng / jun. 12-14 / 4 stars

not a happy family by shari lapena / jun. 14-17 / 2.5 stars

the familiars by stacey halls / jun. 17-21 / 3 stars

the girls i’ve been by tess sharpe / jun. 21-22 / 3.5 stars

once more with feeling by elissa sussman / jun. 23 / 3 stars

the cheat sheet by sarah adams / jun. 24-25 / 1 star

how to sell a haunted house by grady hendrix / jun. 26-29 / 3 stars

little thieves by margaret owen / jul. 1-3 / 4.5 stars

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone / jul. 3-6 / 3 stars

the very secret society of irregular witches by sangu mandanna / jul. 11-12 / 4 stars

the lies of locke lamora by scott lynch / jul. 13-27 / 4.5 stars

seven days in june by tia williams / jul. 28-30 / 4 stars

bloodmarked by tracy deonn / jul. 31-aug. 2 / 4 stars

something wilder by christina lauren / aug. 3-4 / 3 stars

howl’s moving castle by diana wynne jones / aug. 4-5 / 4 stars

dark matter by blake crouch / aug. 12-13 / 3 stars

eat up! food, appetite, and eating what you want by ruby tandoh / jul. 30-aug. 14 / 4 stars

the silent companions by laura purcell / aug. 5-18 / 4 stars

mr. wrong number by lynn painter / aug. 19-20 / 2 stars

romantic comedy by curtis sittenfeld / aug. 20-21 / 4 stars

the last tale of the flower bride by roshani chokshi / aug. 21-23 / 4 stars

the hating game by sally thorne / aug. 23-25 / 2 stars

lessons in chemistry by bonnie garmus / aug. 25-26 / 2.5 stars

the godparent trap by rachel van dyken / aug. 27 / 2 stars

i’m glad my mom died by jennette mccurdy / aug. 27-29 / 4 stars

the atlas six by olivie blake / aug. 29-sep. 9 / 3 stars

wordslut: a feminist guide to taking back the english language by amanda montell / sep. 1-9 / 4 stars

practice makes perfect by sarah adams / sep. 10-11 / 3 stars

all systems red by martha wells / sep. 13-14 / 3 stars

do i know you? by emily wibberly and austin siegemund-broka / sep. 14-16 / 4 stars

same time next summer by annabel monaghan / sep. 17 / 3.5 stars

Ounder the influence by noelle crooks / sep. 18-22 / 4 stars

burn for me by ilona andrews / sep. 22-23 / 4 stars

the littlest library by poppy alexander / sep. 24 / 3 stars

the neighbor favor by kristina forest / sep. 25-27 / 3 stars

satisfaction guaranteed by karelia stetz-waters / sep. 28-oct. 5 / 3 stars

the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon / oct. 5-7 / 4 stars

change of plans by dylan newton / oct. 8-9 / 2 stars

coraline by neil gaiman / oct. 9 / 4 stars

you, again by kate goldbeck / oct. 9-11 / 3 stars

mrs. caliban by rachel ingalls / oct. 12 / 3 stars

summer sons by lee mandelo / oct. 12-19 / 4 stars

the death of jane lawrence by caitlin starling / oct. 19-24 / 3 stars

house of hollow by krystal sutherland / oct. 25-29 / 4 stars

white hot by ilona andrews / oct. 28-nov. 2 / 4.5 stars

twice shy by sarah hogle / nov. 4-5 / 3 stars

sexed up: how society sexualizes us, and how we can fight back by julia serano / nov. 2-10 / 4 stars

artificial condition by martha wells / nov. 11-14 / 4 stars

wildfire by ilona andrews / nov. 14-16 / 4.5 stars

between a fox and a hard place by mary frame / nov. 18 / 3 stars

revolting prostitutes: the fight for sex workers’ rights by molly smith and juno mac / nov. 18-20 / 4 stars

emily wilde’s encyclopaedia of faeries by heather fawcett / nov. 21-24 / 4.5 stars

love and other words by christina lauren / nov. 24-25 / 3 stars

the boyfriend candidate by ashley winstead / nov. 26 / 3.5 stars

the seven year slip by ashley poston / nov. 27-28 / 5 stars

how to fall out of love madly by jana casale / dec. 3-10 / 3 stars

ordinary monsters by j.m. miro / dec. 10-21 / 3 stars

rogue protocol by martha wells / dec. 22-23 / 4 stars

what you wish for by katherine center / dec. 25 / 3 stars

the blonde identity by ally carter / dec. 25-26 / 2.5 stars

just my type by falon ballard / dec. 26-31 / 2 stars

#belatedly jumping on this trend don’t mind me #trying to inject some life back into this blog #allison’s reading log

[crimsontroupe]

Stares at my inbox...

#perhaps if i try again.... theres some stuff i still want to reply to but life just overwhelmed me.... #ooc; #tbd #so maybe. if u send me smth i can cook up a thread. help i do not know how to inject life back into this blog!!! girl help!!!!

[reallyhardydraws]

2023.

i hope any of you reading this will forgive the essay. i started posting to this art blog ten years ago in 2013 when i was just at the very end of high school, uploading short animations i'd made for one of my final projects, preparing myself for art school where i was gearing up to become an illustration/animation student.

i went into my art foundation course in 2014, still thinking i was going to be going into storybook illustration or with faint hopes of becoming like a concept artist for game/animation, although even then i'd started thinking about patterns...

and then in 2015 i did go into my BA, going in for that illustration with animation degree that... usually when i talk about it in real life, i say didn't really feel like the best place for me. if i think back, the best things i got out of it were two of my best friends, one of whom is now my partner. looking back on my BA era, there's some bits of sketchbook stuff...

and while i was at university my main fandoms were thunderbirds are go and x-men for a bit... these are from the end of 2015 into the beginning of 2016...

then for a little while i was doing this still sort of pastel-ish lineless situation:

and i alternated between that and this thin fineliner type work (pretty sure all of the linearted pieces were done on paper and scanned, and all the lineless were graphics-tablet-only) - it was in this style that i started to offer commissions for the first time too.

and i also had fineliner-lined work in sketchbooks that i coloured with marker and posca pens, the colours of which were generally a bit more intense just based on not being able to slide the hue/saturation around on paper:

also 2016 was when i discovered the spongebob musical just after it's trial run in chicago (which ended in july of 2016) and i started making fanart at that point... which would have the biggest effect on the way i drew (and i did end up handing in a piece of spongebob musical fanart as one of my art school homeworks lmao)

from summer 2016 until early 2017 things were still quite soft and pastelly in my digital art, colour-wise:

and then suddenly everything got whacked up to 100% on saturation. also i was using the binary tool to give everything really thin pixel lineart for some reason.

then i went on vacation in summer 2017 and didn't draw for maybe a month? just short of? and when i came back i decided to change everything up again... giving characters blobbier, more ugly-cute faces with large squinting eyes and big nostrils and i was worrying a lot less about making anything look smooth, lineart-wise. i turned off the pen stabiliser in SAI and let it wiggle.

then... the spongebob musical opened on broadway in late 2017, i went to see it live in person for the first time... and my whole brain was ENTIRELY consumed by my love of it. i was putting that david zinn inspired pattern explosion into everything, even if it wasn't sbm fanart.

as we go into 2018, i started colouring my lineart. my biggest interest was still broadway musicals (with spongebob at the top of the list)

i think summer 2017 - early 2018 is probably my favourite art era, i was at my most bright and colourful and exciting... although i know in my actual real life i was struggling a lot with my home situation and i had been for some time. art was definitely my escapism back then, and i think a lot of the time i drew really bright, joyful stuff to try and inject that feeling into myself.

as for my university work, i was putting my focus into 3D paper-mache puppets:

and i was also starting to do more repeat patterns, mostly inspired by things around me. i'd learned how to make patterns actually tile and repeat in 2017, so made a few during my time at uni just to accompany some of my projects, but never as the focus of them. one of my university tutors told me that maybe i should put more focus on doing surface pattern, and maybe applying it to textiles, but i said i wasn't interested.

i graduated from my BA in the summer of 2018, and immediately began volunteering at the whitworth art gallery doing anything i could - stewarding, helping with arts and crafts, dancing with families...

in 2019 i was still very colourful... i was trying out more chunky colouring on characters skintones that i think was def inspired by tumblr artist jadenvargen:

but the blobbyness and ugly-cute style of drawing faces was gone by here, and i think... the way i drew characters probably had better *anatomy*, proportions were maybe a bit more realistic...

in 2020 i started adding the black shading to under the chins and some other places on characters' bodies because i started watching the anime my hero academia with my brother, lmao (and i was starting to pastelise colours a bit again, these are the most pastel-ish examples) my lineart has really smoothed back out too, though i never turned my pen stabiliser back on in SAI. i think my hand just adjusted. probably seems a bit insane to miss that, but i do.

by the end of 2020, the almost-year of lockdown over cobid had... made me a bit insane, i think, and i moved out of my mother's house and into a flat with a friend from university.

in 2021 i think things were much the same... i think from this point on is where things have sort of settled. i don't want to say stagnated, but i do think things have been very... like this for a while.

2022 - got the most exciting examples out...

also i was very into these little frames in 2022.

and then on to 2023! in 2022, i did begin trying to shift gears a bit -- hoping to put more energy into sewing and making products (like my tutor has suggested back in uni, even though i'd really resisted the idea.) i sold at a few in-person markets during winter of 2022, but got disheartened by the amount of money i had to sink in up front to sign up for a spot...

which has made me VERY grateful for the people who have supported me via online sales. it has really helped me stay afloat in 2023 - AND it has felt more wonderful than i can describe that there have been people interested in my work... especially when a lot of it has been my original designs, rather than the fanart that i expect a lot of people initially followed me for.

i've also... in the past 2 years... branched out a bit more when it comes to 'being an artist' - and have had the opportunity to deliver arts & crafts workshops with local refugee & asylum seeker support charity, afrocats. it's taken me to their home base in a church to hotels across the city where asylum seekers were temporarily placed while waiting on their new homes, and of course to my beloved whitworth art gallery, where we welcomed visitors from all backgrounds: from the typical white middle class visitors the gallery usually expects, to all the refugee visitors coming into the space for the first time.

and through my volunteering at the whitworth, i showed up so often they decided they might as well pay me. so i've also become a facilitator of... creative play sessions, my favourites of which have been outdoors. monthly, year-round, we have 'outdoor art club', where i get to paint with mud and make potions from leaves with kids & families - here you can see me tell you a little bit about it in this video below with 'crempog' a puppet character that makes videos about activities for kids and families around manchester (my bit starts at 01:10 although i am in the intro and thumbnail haha)

and then of course the summer 'PLAYTIME' activities we've had the past two years: scrap studio in 2022, and play market in 2023. it's the best freelance gig ever -- just to hang out and encourage families to be creative and have fun.

in working more in these new avenues... outside of being - as i've called myself for a long time - "an internet artist"... i've found myself more interested in this sort of thing. in being a "real world artist" too. in doing surface pattern design, and being a workshop facilitator, i find myself wanting to put more energy into these sorts of projects.

in 2023 i've also dabbled a little bit more in youtube videos! i have had a channel for a while and have made videos in previous years, but 2023 has been the year i've done the most in. admittedly most of them haven't been about my art, and more just like... random things that interest me (the spongebob musical in particular) but i've really been enjoying video editing. that's kind of an art form too, so i'm including it here!

moving forward, want to keep putting even more of my energy into other things. my shop, with a bigger range of products to offer. workshops in real life, where i can make a difference.

as for my art blog... i feel like i've done the least drawing in many years in 2023, and... well, things have been weird and complicated for a bit in my real life. i hope to draw for fun a bit more again very soon, and to return to doing things in more of a wild and crazy way, to be more creative and exciting with the way i draw things. still, here's some of my favourites from 2023:

thank you so much to everyone who has borne witness to my art journey this past decade!!! i hope you will stick with me, who knows, maybe for another 10 years if tumblr holds out. especially a big thank you to everyone who has ever commissioned me, or bought anything from my store, you literally keep me able to make art at all and i cannot, cannot, cannot overstate how much it means to me.

i'm moving homes soon, possibly into very cramped temporary conditions for a little while before HOPEFULLY starting my real life with my partner. if i can take one more moment to plug my work, then [here is a link to my online shop] and [here is my ko-fi page too.]

cheers, cheers, cheers!

- LOREN 🌈🍍🎉

#also: i did post. monster high and steam powered giraffe fanart on my main blog when i was in high school #in 2012/2013 it seems like i did absolutely LOADS of fanart for both of those fandoms but didn't cross-post it to my art blog #and uh. well. i'm not about to do it now hahaha

[kit-williams]

Yandere Sanguinius and yandere Ferrus?

I was given Easy mode Primarch and fuckin Soulsborn NG+ Primarch

Ferrus is 100% thanks to @bispecsual because I had literally nothing

Yandere Sanguinius To catch the eye of the angel of Baal was a feat many would dream to have but knowing what you know... you'd hardly wish it upon your worst enemies. He is kind... he is sweet... but there is a wrath that dances just behind his eyes. The gentle coo that leaves his lips as a room is painted red with limbs and viscera and not a drop upon you. Though should blood touch you... it is because the Red angel willed it.

He was certainly kind... he was certainly sweet... he was certainly thoughtful... but there was something few forgot about the Angel.... he always got his mission done... many wish to sing the praises of peaceful compliance... but you've had to bear first hand the utter annihilation... the blood soaked wings... and iron mixing with his blonde hair turning it a blood red, and his skin stained for days from the blood.

You are his gem... his beloved... whom he and his sons cherish and adore! Even if you try to pull away nothing can pull you far away enough from him you always snap back to him because who wants to believe the angelic lord of blood is a monster? No one. Even if he does not hurt you... anyone else is fair game for the Sanguine Lord and his devoted sons... your monstrous step children... no one will save you from this outward fairytale.

Yandere Ferrus His hand runs over the pod as there she has been for over 150 years... Ferrus feels some guilt over what he has done... but she is all he has as he presses his forehead against the glass coffin. She looks so peaceful and so etheral as she just lays there unaware of how the galaxy marches on without her. But Ferrus knows... he is here... he will always be here for her... his hand brushes against the pod.

She is locked away within his secret workshop with plans on how to remove the metal on his arms... he wants to feel that feathery touch she did on his hand just reading his palm, the way the corners of her eyes wrinkle in joy as she tells him that he'll have a long life. He remembers the way her fingers caressed the seam of his arms and it drove Ferrus to the limit.

He had asked her bluntly if she was willing to extend her life... and she had only said if he ordered her too... Ferrus could not force his will on her... even if he could just crush the life out of her... he could order her to live longer... to be with him! WHY was he cursed with her showing up at the START of the Crusade. And he had to meet her... she had to charm him with her humanity.

He remembers how fast her heart was beating as she laid on his bed naked as he allowed himself one concession... he loved her that night... he can still smell her... still hear her pleasured screams as his hips rocked against hers. He couldn't wait to explore her body with his actual hands... its why he injected her as she laid on his bed blissed out and put her where she is now. He worked on it lovingly for her... as for her... the last memories she has was herself under him screaming in that pleasured haze.

He kisses the glass. Smiling to himself as it wouldn't be much longer...

@egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

#warhammer 40k #reply #answer #yandere #yandere primarchs #yandere 40k #yandere sanguinius #sanguinius #yandere ferrus manus #ferrus manus

[letters-to-rosie]

another fic idea: the timebomb Howl's Moving Castle AU

Ekko's Moving Treehouse!

blatantly inspired by @redrum-alice's FANTASTIC artwork and developed in collaboration with @lullabyes22-blog, because I've been fawning over the art since it was posted and I just knew there had to be a way this could work because it was so cute and the potential just jumped off the page for me

(you've probably seen it but go look at it if you haven't it's so good)

me and Lullabyes have both read the book and seen the movie, so we combined a lot of ideas from both versions, and this is the result so far:

so Silco is the Witch of the Waste lol

Jinx's curse turns her eyes pink (and they stay that way, like Sophie's hair turning white!)

our girl is on a journey of ✨self-discovery✨ and to find her family. Silco does not understand why and just wants her to come home for dinner lol

instead of happening upon Ekko, Jinx goes looking for him because she heard there's a wizard wandering around who helps people

Ekko's castle is a treehouse, and the roots walk!

Jinx: "What a stupid way to treat a tree!" DX (a book line lol)

Jinx keeps arguing with the curse and it weirds Ekko out but she's just arguing with Silco lol

Ekko is a big grump because he gave his heart away to protect it after so much loss 😭

Jinx does not clean his house. she just redecorates. she draws on everything, including the Wall of the Fallen, and Ekko is thisssss close to strangling her at all times but he's promised to help

Jinx: "Ya gotta inject some levity into this narrative!" /casually breaks 4th wall

Silco's henchpeople keep showing up and Ekko fights them off but they're just trying to get Jinx to come back for dinner

Silco: "Discover? What are you discovering? Gold? Dinner's getting cold!"

at some point Jinx will have to cut up Ekko's clothes mwahaha

Ekko has the Slime Meltdown™ because Jinx breaks his hoverboard and he needs to be airborne and free or else there's no point in living

Heimerdinger is Madame Sullivan/Suliman, Ekko's old magic teacher who tells Jinx she's a witch like in the book 🪄

he even has the intro that makes him appear all spooky at first before his furball nature is revealed

maybe instead of giving life to things she animates machines???

they have a cute breakfast scene in Ekko's treehouse where Jinx eats real fruit the first time

Vi leaves a flare lit for Jinx all this time, and Ekko helps her find it

we didn't discuss this, but I think it would be interesting if Vi was Turnip Head, trying to communicate through Jinx throughout the story and maybe pushing her into situations that she doesn't really want (which has to do with how we're imagining the ending; Vander could also be Warwick instead and serve the same purpose???? wait I'm cooking here)

I also want Ajuna to be Michael/Markl lol

the end of the story sees Jinx decide to be true to herself; even though she knows that Silco and Vi both love her, she's gotta do her own thing

despite being super annoying lol she helps Ekko live in the moment and get his heart back, and they fall for each other and it's mushy as hell okay

"She's like very decorative lichen growing on his tree and he can't get rid of her, so by the story's end she's just become part of the natural treescape."

and at the end they keep traveling in the treehouse to see the world and help people and so Jinx can come into her witch powers

probably would be easy to insert all the war themes

Jinx coming into her own and being cute, Ekko learning to love again after this woman just barges into his life, family themes, romance, what more could we want???

#timebomb #don't let me down people #we gotta make this happen lol #arcane #fanfication #arcane jinx #arcane ekko #ekko #jinx #vi arcane #silco arcane #silco #howl's moving castle #EKKO'S MOVING TREEHOUSE #it would be so cute okay

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Went back to find your Titans WIP list, which was from November, and I forgot how many absolute bangers there were. So many of them piqued my interest. -Rotten Anon

OKAY WILD

it took me like five minutes to find it WILD LOOKING THROUGH MY ARCHIVE after you told me it was posted in November. you are a wizard if you found it so quickly to just casually look through it

here it is for reference of random people who are not wizards

sometime this upcoming week, I will post an updated list of things I am actively working on, but I am working on some new things, and I am HEAVILY looking at:

Continuing the First Kiss Series with Donna Troy

The Donna 'Rage Chemical Fic' - Donna Troy x Fem!Kryptonian!Reader, Angst, set during the flashback era of S2 - this is based off a request from my old blog; you are dosed with a chemical that Cadmus is working on (in the hopes of using it on Superman) and you end up in a blind rage; Donna, your lover, is the only one strong enough to fight you and inject you with the antidote (there is some angst where you try to kill Donna and she uses her calm, loving words to temporarily stop the rage) (this is structured like an episode of Titans, set during the OG Titans era)

The Sequel To Emergency Contact (sequel would be called The Jaws of Life) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader, Angst and Smut, set during season 3; this would be a reunion between Jason and the reader after Jason dies and comes back to life (reunion sex) 

and maybe the sequel to Missing You - (because more and more randomly, people have been liking the original and I am just like ?? if you guys like this one so much, then have the sequel) - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd, Smut, set outside of the canon; I am thinking about a sequel and maybe even a third part to this, where Jason and the reader have phone sex with Gar now that they know he’s listening (and a part where they have sex with him in person) 

those, in addition to some new interesting things

I really, really, really want to finish the sequel to Emergency Contact because I think it's one of the most wonderfully heartbreaking things I have ever written and I think people need to see it. the world needs it

#anonymous #rotten anon #sundrop answers #titans fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #gar logan x reader #donna troy x reader #dc titans

[crybaby-bkg]

𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

Yuuki Anzai x female reader (Devils’ Line)

Warnings: blood kink/drinking, smut, teasing, mutual masturbation, unresolved feelings, riding/cowgirl position, he scratches reader/digs his nails in, muzzles, and handcuffs. please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: can’t believe I’ve loved devils line for so long and never wrote anything for anzai!! I hope you all enjoy!!

Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Also available on ao3!

Becoming a cop was never something you thought would come to fruition for you. Not because it was necessarily a dream of yours, but because you had dreams of doing something—anything—else. But, life is tricky and it turns you in all sorts of directions until, you guess, you’re where you should be.

But staying in a shared complex with other cops and Devils was something you never thought would be in the cards for you. You didn’t hate it though, found a family within the people there, a home within the chaos of the bar when everyone got a little too tipsy and happy. It was great there, and you had little issues. Well, save for one.

And that one’s name was Yuuki Anzai. A half Devil that was tormented with the Red-Eyed part of himself, self hatred oozing off of him with every plunge of an injection and suspension from higher forces. Anzai wasn’t a big issue, you had to admit, but goddamn, was it hard to force down your feelings for him.

Humans and Devils were barely prohibited to have a relationship together, much less a work-place relationship at that. But, that didn’t stop you from sneaking into his place at night when the halls are silent, and no lingering eyes follow you.

“Anzai?” You whisper as you close the door quietly behind you. “Are you up?” Your eyes dart around the room, trying to adjust to the darkness, gasping when a pair of navy blue eyes suddenly appear at your side.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Anzai murmurs, chuckles a little when you jump away from him in surprise. You pout a little, narrowing your eyes at him as you punch his shoulder, softer than you should with the way your heart damn near jumps from its cages.

“Don’t scare me like that, asshole!” You whisper-shout, arms crossed over the other as you try to make out his entire form in the still darkened room. “Can we get some light in here so I can see your annoying face?”

You hear a little puff of air blow through his nose in amusement, his feet shuffling against the floorboards, before soft light suddenly floods the room. Your eyes immediately dart to Anzai’s form, tall and lanky, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stands too close for you to not have heard him walk back over. His hair curls around the sides of his neck, his dark bangs covering his eyebrows and shadowing the eyes that stare down at you all the while. There’s a tiny little smirk on his face, and you want to kiss that mole by his mouth. So you do.

“Can I kiss you?” Anzai asks, but you’re already leaning in, stepping forward until your toes bump and your arms curl around his shoulders, bringing him to your face. You breath in his breath, smell the tea you fixed for him earlier in the night still lingering, feel his lips skim against the softness of yours. But you skip over his mouth, purposefully, lips directed to that little beauty mark that you, for some reason, can’t help but adore.

“I think you missed my mouth,” Anzai tells you, a little tut in his words as he blinks his eyes open to look at you. You smile, cheekily, shrugging your shoulders a little as you lick your lips, skimming his own in the process.

“Yeah?” You tease, swaying him a little, looking at him from under your lashes. “Wanna guide me in the right direction then?” And he barely lets you get the words out before he dives for your lips, his mouth smoothed over against yours. The kiss is both gentle and firm, his lips sliding against yours, smacking against each other as he pulls back for another one, and another one, until you have to pull back for breath.

When you do, your eyes flutter open and, it should scare you, the way red bleeds into the whites of his eyes. But it doesn’t—only a comfort to know that the man you have adored for so long loses every piece of himself whenever he gets the briefest taste of you. He wants more, and it’s obvious in the unsteadiness of his breath and the bulge that pokes at your thighs. And you do too, with your pulling hands and guiding feet over to his neatly made bed.

But Anzai stops you—he always does whenever it goes beyond kissing. He can handle that, he always tells you, but anything more makes him lose control. Is it bad that you want the loss? That you want the feral and the rawness of him letting loose and taking you in the way he cares to, so primally? Is it bad that you encourage it, with a tilt of your neck and a nod of your head?

“We can’t keep doing this.” Anzai mutters, blinking rapidly when you ignore his words to unbutton his shirt. He grabs your hands in his, making you look at him through your lashes, a soft frown forming at your lips.

“I know.” You whisper back to him, curling your fingers around his own until he embraces your hands, sighing a little under your breath. You understand his hesitance, his fear, but everything has gone right the other times? What’s so different about right now?

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits, his eyes holding a sincerity that makes you glance away in guilt. You don’t want to pressure him, make him feel tense and worried every time you fall into bed with him. But how could you stop when everything felt so good? When the risk and the fear of it all made your orgasms taste all the sweeter?

“You won’t.” You pull your hands away from his own, cradle his warm cheeks in your palm. Anzai’s eyes flutter shut as he breathes in deeply, his mouth opening softly on his exhale before he looks at you again with a stare so intense, you wonder if telling him you love him would ruin the moment.

“This is going to be the last time, okay?” Anzai tells you, his voice firmer than you would like it to be. But you nod anyway, quickly, pulling him in for another kiss as you two fall into bed.

His shirt comes off first, and then yours, fallen into a pile on the side of the bed, long forgotten. The handcuffs are next, as you click them into place, lips locked all the while, moaning when he grunts into your mouth with every roll of your hips against his. You look down at him from where you’re perched in his lap, how the whites of his eyes are gone, now a full blood red and smoky yellow, his irises thin and slit, reptilian like. He’s never been prettier, you think, as you dive in once more to slide your tongue against the seam of his lips, feeling him invite you in as you work your bra off next.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Anzai mumbles under his breath when your tits fall in his face, eyes darting between the two, before he closes the gap of his mouth and your nipple. You throw your head back in a moan when he sucks the bud between his lips, hands pawing at your belly all the while. You run a hand threw his hair, biting at your bottom lip as you watch his mouth greedily suck at the tight skin around your nipple. When he switches to the other one, he notices you watching, moans a little around the other bud, pulls back to lick at your areola before he growls and dives in a little harsher this time when you sound prettier than he expects.

With a quickness he doesn’t anticipate, you push Anzai back down onto the bed, his hands still holding onto the fat of your stomach, as his eyes start losing a bit of their control. You tut at him, shaking your head a little when his teeth, sharpened and wide, start to protrude from his gums, grinding slowly in his lap when he goes to sit up again. You snatch the muzzle from under the bed quickly, slipping it over his head before he can get up, clicking it into place as he growls a little, bucking his hips up against your own.

“So misbehaved, aren’t you, Yuuki?” You ask him, voice a little disappointed huff, teasing, watching how his eyebrows screw down. You gasp a little, eyes fluttering, before you snap your neck down to watch how his nails protrude, poking into the thin skin of your stomach, creating a tiny little tear. You watch how the blood drips from the small wound, how it coats his fingers, how his cock jumps from underneath you at the sight and smell of it.

“I’ll let you taste it,” you tell him, leaning forward until your weight is rested against the entirety of his body. “But only if you split me open on your cock first.” You tack on the last part with a lick against his earlobe, gasping with a little chuckle when Anzai’s whole body lurches from underneath you, his words slurring from behind his big teeth and muzzled mouth.

“Fuckin’—lemme just—cmon—“ he makes no sense, and you don’t need him to. The bloodlust is damn near ripping him apart, as his eyes dart from your pants still a barrier between you two, and the red that coats his fingers the more he digs his nails into your skin. You pull back when he starts to sink too deep, swatting at him as you wag a finger in his face.

“Play nice.” You warn him, eyes narrowed as you start to slip your pants and panties down off of your legs on the side of the bed. When you’re bare, Anzai growls, deep and low in his chest, tries to remove his own bottoms, but it proves difficult with the handcuffs. So you help him, watch him wiggle his way out of them until you can shuck the bottoms off from around his feet, a growing pile of clothes in your peripheral that you can’t be bothered to care about at the moment.

You watch how, in your distractedness, that he slips his nails between the bars of his muzzle, how he licks at the blood that stains them, eyes rolling back at your heavenly taste. You shake your head at him, climbing back on top of him until your legs are spread and you sit on his thighs, right below his plump balls.

“I didn’t tell you that you could taste me yet, did I?” You ask Anzai with a cock of your head, and a pout of your lips. “Hm, seems like I forgot to prep myself first too. Let me do that now, actually.” You wink at him, watch how his eyebrows furrow down as he bucks underneath you. His cock rests on his belly, curved to the left, his tip a soft brown and pretty, leaking precum all over his navel as it twitches when your middle finger dips inside of your hole.

“You don’t prep yourself any other time. You’re just trying to punish me.” He growls, a tiny whimper in his throat, his hands unable to reach you in this position. So he holds his own cock with both hands instead, pumps it every time your finger slides inside of your cunt, a rhythm that enchants him the entire time.

“Should’ve listened then, huh?” You ask in a sigh, sliding in another finger as you go to quickly stretch yourself out. While you did it to fuck with him, you’re just as impatient to feel his fat and hot cock splitting you open better than a toy ever could. So you do it with such a quickness, that you have to force your eyes open when you hear that familiar wet sound of a cock being stroked.

Anzai looks beautiful like this—all blood red eyes and dedicated golden irises stuck on the sight of your squelching pussy, his teeth daunting and sharp from beneath the muscle, his chest and pretty brown nipples heaving with every sharp breath, his big hands engulfing his cock with every wet stroke, his thighs burning underneath you.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” Anzai huffs, and you’re surprised he’s still this much in control to not be reduced only to whines and growls and grunts. Your fingers speed up at the sound of him, scissoring your fingers as you try to hurry to open yourself up to take him.

“I can’t wait to feel you around me.” He mutters, eyes clenched shut as he starts to plead under his breath. “Cmon, stop teasing me. Please.” He’s so desperate, that it almost makes you cum. You have to rip your fingers out, chest heaving as you will your orgasm away, body shuddering as your hips jerk a little, wet hole grazing the plumpness of his balls, and it’s almost enough to make him snap.

You climb on top of Anzai quickly, holding his heavy cock beneath you, sinking down on him with no preamble, no teasing, no hesitation. You had to feel him now, felt like you might burst if you waited any longer. You have to rattle the bars of his muzzle when he damn near howls when your hole starts to swallow him up, remind him that this is supposed to be secretive, that you as a human shouldn’t be riding him, a Devil, like your life depended on it.

But you both give into your primal instincts far too soon into the night, and the noises he makes are enough to alarm anyone who hears them. And if they do, they pretend to be oblivious.

“Oh shit, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Anzai grunts, eyes scrunched closed before he forces them open to watch you. Watch how your thighs bounce and tremble with every drop of your hips, how your lips swallow his cock, how your soft walls caress the veins forking up his shaft, how your slick dribbles down from your pussy to splatter and smother his balls. You’re covering him in your scent, and the blood that still momentarily drips from your belly doesn’t help either.

You must notice where his eyes have landed, as you chuckle a little, breathlessly, thighs still working as you ride his cock. You scoop a finger through the bloody mess on your skin, holding it up high in the air, watch how his eyes follow like a dog with a bone. Anzai makes a low noise between a hiss and a growl when a drop of the red liquid drips onto the hard planes of his stomach, hips starting to buck up to meet your rhythm.

“Want a taste of me? Huh, baby?” You ask him, grinning when he snarls, when he’s reduced only to noises and wordless demands of more. You give it to him, give it all, as you hold your finger above his muzzle, watch how he strains his neck to taste it when it plops against his mouth. He moans at that, head thrown back before he straightens up again, teeth clenched as he growls through them,

“More.” It’s a command that startles you, not expecting to hear such a low tone come from the usually calm and collected man. But it only makes you tighter around him, moaning a little louder than you should when he starts snapping his hips underneath you, almost throws you off of his lap from how hard he starts to fuck you.

“S-So greedy,” you try to tease him, but it’s difficult when the curved tip of his cock is hitting every right place inside of you. You listen to his demands, swipe up more blood that he carves out of you when his nails meet your skin again. You hold it over his mouth, watch how it drops and messes up the clean bars of the cage when you miss, how his thick tongue swirls around his lips to get every drop of you.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper to Anzai, barely able to keep yourself up, still letting crimson drip from your fingers to satisfy the man, the Devil, beneath you. He groans at that, at how your cunt clenches sporadically around him, finally takes his nails out of your skin to instead hold them against your mound. He’s careful in how he angles himself, until his thumb is positioned so your clit can rub against it with every stroke of his cock inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Anzai!” you whimper, eyes clenched shut as the rough pad of his thumb is enough to drive you over the edge. You cry out, louder than you should, but its hard to remember volume control when his cock and his finger feels so good against your cunt. You clench around him, feel your slick cover his cock and drip onto his balls, how wet it suddenly gets when you hear him grunt loudly before he orgasms alongside you. Its harsh and hot, makes you moan underneath your breath as you feel it spread inside of you, look between your legs to watch how it drips down the inside of your thighs to make a mess of him beneath you.

His grunts and growls are unintelligible, his noises deep and primal as he keeps shooting inside of you until his body stills and collapses on the bed. He sighs, low and quiet in his throat, and your body sags as the adrenaline starts to wear off. You glance down at the mess you’ve made, at your stomach with tiny little cuts and blood staining your skin, at what’s become of between your legs.

“Hurry up and transform back. You’re on clean up duty this time.” You tell him with a sigh, collapsing on his chest, feeling it heave a little when your tongue snakes out to cheekily swipe at his sensitive nipple.

“You’re only gonna make the process take longer if you keep touching me like that.” Anzai mumbles, cock twitching inside of you as you feel his nails scratch gently where they wrap around your neck.

“Sorry,” You giggle, hiding your face in his chest, pecking gently. Anzai strokes at your skin for a while before he finally starts to transform back, his skin losing its heat and his stroking nails back to their normal blunt state. You look up at him, at his navy blue eyes and red stained mouth, kissing at the bars of the muzzle, as he tries to kiss back.

“Get off your lazy ass already,” you tell him, laughing when he instantly blames you for not taking the muzzle and handcuffs off already. It’s a much more sweet and domestic scene than you ever thought possible with a Devil, but you already wish for more moments like this with him, without the world breathing down your necks, and with as much love in his eyes as it is in yours.

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #anzai treats! 🍬 #anzai x reader #devils line sweets! 🍬 #tw: blood #he fuels my muzzle kink

[walking-fnaf-encyclopedia]

logical error cassie's fnaf spin + timeline stuff

i love her so much thank you @hearts4ggy and @viarayy01-blog for enabling me

also holy shit this is going under a read more. it's like 1300+ words oops

okay okay cassie got into fazco history first, and that was because she was pretty much drowning in the place from a young age. her dad worked there so she was at the daycare all the time, she met all the bots, when she was a little older she was allowed to watch her dad work on repairs in parts and service. the tech fascinated her from a very young age, and sometimes she would even be allowed to take apart scrap parts to see how they work! she's seen everything from wet floor bots to even freddy being fixed! she wasn't really supposed to be back there, but no one was gonna tattle, and she was super respectful of the tools and projects - never broke a thing, never stole anything, never got hurt. (her dad has his own workshop at home for personal projects, so she's had safety precautions around mechanical equipment absolutely drilled into her brain.)

so anyways, she of course cant exactly pin down when her special interest was sparked, but she was pretty young. originally it was just the differences in models over the years - the endos, the types of casing, the pros and cons of fur casing vs plastic vs metal, the variations between the different endoskeletons and how that changed what they could do (she was especially fascinated by just how different these models could wind up - circus baby's pizza world endoskeletons are WILDLY different from any of the others, what's up with that? ohh, those were made by the other co-founder, so all the other ones were mostly made by the other guy? maybe that's why they teamed up..)

while the models and tech stuff was her initial fascination, looking into all this, and especially trying to find knowledge on the elusive springlock suits and how they actually worked (seriously, they only ever made two?? the things she'd do to get ahold of one of those bad boys! even just the blueprints!), she came across article after article about mysterious disappearances around the place. suspected murders. horrific injuries. animatronics acting wrong.

one of the founders being accused of luring away and murdering children in the establishment, and then stuffing their corpses into suits.

what?

so she digs deeper! finds an old series of games by an indie game developer - stark crowthorne? there are eight main games and several spin-offs. (actually, she's played some of these spin-offs. the freddy in space games - aren't there some machines of those in the arcades at the plex? just who is this guy? AND he made flipside? she LOVES flipside!!!) she gets super, super into the fnaf games. some stuff in them lines up with real-life events - the murders, the shutdown of fredbear's, jr's, and pizza world.. and fazbear frights burning down - that all actually happened. the details tend to be either super vague, especially in the first two games, super embellished (surely someone would've noticed and reported a walking corpse, right? how did he even stay alive after that?), or it was just outright fantastical (you expect me to believe there's molten metal that the souls of dead children latched onto? you expect me to believe a dude injected himself with it just to be immortal??)

...but a lot of it seems to be based on real events. and this guy was hired by fazco for other projects, after he had already made these games..... and the more recent disappearances..

she's not quite old enough at that point - nor does she have enough information to piece everything together, but she does have a conspiracy board to put all her thoughts down on. her dad has absolutely listened to her talk about it before, but he was so lost the whole time. which, fair. she was like eleven and explained things poorly and he couldn't even begin know what was going on.

additional things before i move on to the timeline:

the indie developer stark crowthorne made every game, excluding security breach (it and ruin just don't exist).

flipside is what im calling fnaf world. in this world it was originally part of the fnaf series and called fnaf world, but the fans basically ignored it and fazco bought it, renamed it flipside, and slapped their new cutesy rpg on arcade machines.

fazbear frights burnt down BEFORE the games were made

help wanted is different. like, multiple minigames are just gone. have you seen the mobile port? that's what i'm using as my basis for the "official" final game, since the actual full length one was a beta tester version in-universe. unfortunately for me, the last time the wiki for it was updated there was a lot of stuff that we didn't know, so i'll just have to do my best (or buy the game myself, lol)

TIMELINE TIME BABEYYY

okay it's definitely a rough timeline, but

fredbears and circus baby's pizza world were planned to be open at the same time.

pizza world was shut down day one, while fredbear's was still open. elizabeth was the first death.

the bite later happens at fredbear's, on the crying child's birthday in 1983. fredbear's closes shortly after. the crying child was the second death.

jr's was opened at some point, and ran side by side with fredbear's until it closed.

jr's is the fnaf 2 location, and also where the missing children's incident took place.

the suits they were stuffed into originated from fredbear's, and are the same ones as in the fnaf 1 location.

charlie is murdered outside of jr's. this sparks an investigation. william is detained briefly, but let go due to lack of evidence.

jr's closed in 1987 after the second bite. mangle is the one who bit someone, in part due to their programming being really messed up due to their condition. the bite victim survives.

after the place is abandoned, william goes back and dies in the spring bonnie suit. the saferooms are ordered to be sealed in all locations.

a couple years later, the fnaf 1 location - just "freddy fazbear's pizza" opens with the newly repaired and cleaned up old models from fredbear's.

phone guy dies. they are shut down by the health department.

mike gets scooped, ennard is freed, and mike is officially on the path of suffering. this all happens at some point between freddy's being shut down and fazbear frights opening.

nothing else of note (that i can think of) happens prior to fazbear frights, which opens in 2017.

fnaf games begin to come out. all are released the same day as their real life counterparts, offset by three years.

prior only to fnaf 6's release, the events of 6 take place.

the vr title begins to be worked on. jeremy dies, tape girl ???, and vanessa gets glitchtrapped. (she's actually not even old enough to drink at this point. she's like eighteen.)

vr releases on the date of the mobile release.

another leap, pizzaplex opens like five years later in 2028. in that time, vanny makes her suit.

vanessa gets a job at the pizzaplex as the only night a security guard. takes night shifts.

whatever the hell goes down in ggy happens in between the plex opening and security breach. i unfortunately don't know enough about it to pinpoint anything more specific. but cassie's birthday where no one showed up happens during this time.

gregory accidentally frees himself from glitchtrap. that night, the events of security breach take place. the ending achieved is princess quest.

ruin takes place a couple years after, on cassies birthday.

additional info two <3

the crying child is cassidy/the vengeful spirit. they are not separate people.

charlie is the fifth in the missing children's incident. her corpse is the only one found, however it was days later. hence why the kids were still "missing". she wasn't the first killed, but she had a lot of emotion attached to her death, especially since she knew will. so she was the first to latch onto an animatronic. funnily enough.. susie actually was the first.

cassie knew ggy, not gregory :)

#x #logical error au #fnaf au #fnaf #tw child death #tw child murder #tw death #tw murder #ask to tag #x chatter #the things i will do for fnaf <333 #this took SO long to write hope yall enjoy

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Sweet Sacrifice [Chapter One] In the Dark [Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow]

A/n: Hey loves. So, my Batman fixation is back, and like before I am going to try and write a story for one of my favorite characters in the fandom, Jonathan Crane. Originally I posted the first two chapters on my Batman-centric side blog, but I decided to take them down and rewrite them for my writing blog. So, for your entertainment, here is 'Sweet Sacrifice'.

Warning(s): kidnapping, original character(s), implied death, mention of drugs/overdose, fear of the unknown, police raid, prologue, needles, slipping into madness, trauma, arkhamverse Scarecrow (but honestly you can picture him however you want under the mask).

No Minors Allowed!!

Prologue:

Evil came in all shapes, forms, and sizes. For Ana Patterson, it came to her as a man; one so lithe and mannerly that she did not foresee the madness that had consumed him, not until it was too late.

Ana knew, sadly, that someday evil would find her; she drew in misfortune like a magnet, but she never expected it to come again so quickly, less than a month from her twenty-fifth birthday. It was her fault really. She got too comfortable with the life she made for herself. And now she was some sadist’s test subject.

In the last month, her usual calm and collected personality had abandoned her. Ana was now unstable and extremely despondent. How could she not be? Her colorful life was now monochrome; a cycle of rinse and repeat. The only surprise she got was finding out what day her captor planned to gas her on. His schedule was inconsistent.

The only warning she got was from the Expendables, as she called them, test subjects she had never seen. Their shrill screams, however, were a different story. They came deep from within the bowels of the old damp cellar, traveling through the pipes of the house like a network of hidden veins. Ana heard them at least twice a week; the only aspect of time she had came from the spaces between the boarded-up windows in her room where sometimes light would filter through. She was not sure what horrors the Expendables were being subjected to, but she knew that whenever they erupted into a fit of screams, her session was approaching.

The last was a day ago. 

Ana was in a state of panic. Her mind was a labyrinth. Waking from one nightmare, she was plunged head-first into another. Only, one of them, she came to realize was real. 

The room she often woke up in was always the same. The boarded-up windows and the unsightly floral wallpaper came into focus whenever she opened her eyes. And the first thing she would do was sob. It was Hell. 

Then the time after that was spent in a state of despondent consciousness, much like now.

For what felt like hours, Ana lay spread-eagle on the bed, staring in a daze at the drywall ceiling. The stink of stale, humid air hung around her like a thick blanket, and if not for the dryness in the back of her sore throat, she would have closed her tired eyes in hopes of eternal sleep.

Her ears were playing tricks on her. She swore she could hear sirens in the distance. A nagging feeling deep inside her made her restless. 

Ana had to get up. 

Her muscles felt rigid and drained from the recent convulsions, but she managed to untangle herself from the sweat-soaked sheets and sit with her legs over the side of the bed. For a moment, she had to fight away the need to vomit, taking slow, deep breaths. The injections from her therapy made her feel nauseous, and usually, her first hours awake were spent hugging the toilet seat until she had the energy to move. The grit of stale vomit on her teeth reminded her that she had survived yet another session. 

The swollen veins beneath her skin felt like they were on fire as she pushed her back straight and lifted her eyes to the security camera on the wall in the corner of the bedroom. The red light teased her, indicating that she was never alone. The bright, young woman knew that he was watching – the tall man she often called him. He always watched her, she believed, because the only time that light went out was when he came in to feed her or put her through another chemical-induced nightmare.

Ana hated to see his face, especially behind the course, burlap mask he liked to wear, but she also needed him at the moment. She sluggishly raised her arm and waved it at the camera, signaling for the tall man to notice her. Ana wasn't sure whether it had an audio option, but she motioned with her hands that she needed something to drink by bringing an invisible cup to her lips. She made the gesture a few more times before dropping back onto the bed in exhaustion.

Where was he? 

Ana waited, listening to the old house creak and pop. It had been silent otherwise, with no screams from the others downstairs and no indication that the tall man was coming. As she counted the sagging tiles on the ceiling, she had done this every day after she became lucid to clear her mind, the room lit up in flashes of red and blue. 

Ana thought the toxin in her system had been playing tricks on her at first, but the sound of loud sirens soon accompanied the lights. Had she not imagined them earlier? No, because they were genuine. She shot up in a sitting position on the bed, despite the dizziness that came rushing back, and glanced hopefully toward the boarded-up window across the room. Sure enough, lights were peeking through the spaces. 

Someone had finally come to save her. But had she known that the feeling would be short-lived, Ana would not have jumped to her feet in excitement, because the second she did, her legs gave out and she plummeted to the cold, hardwood floor with a loud smack.

Ana coughed, inhaling the dust particles she had stirred up, and began to sob. Her legs were asleep, and it felt like pins and needles were sticking into the heels of her feet. Why did she not take it easy?

As she was lying there, she heard the sound of footsteps pounding against the floor below her. The tall man, she assumed, sounded like he was in a hurry – were the police right outside the door? His long legs took extensive steps as he crossed from room to room, eventually coming to a stop. Ana felt her heart race. As he ascended the stairs, she panicked.

Scarecrow was coming for her. 

Ana tried to stand, lifting herself onto her elbows as she pushed her upper body off the floor. But her legs were still numb. She had to find a secure place to hide. The young woman thought that if she could get into the bathroom, she could lock herself in, and maybe the police would find her before Crane could get to her. She began to crawl, using her upper arm strength to slide herself along the floor like a snake.

Just a few more inches, she told herself, trying to trick her mind into thinking that she might make it. 

The pin sensation in her feet was slowly fading. It hurt to move her toes, but within minutes she would be able to stand. Regrettably, the bedroom door flew open, shooting an uninvited light into her sensitive eyes. Ana focused her attention on the slim silhouette in the doorway and held her breath, well aware that the man had his eyes on her too, regardless of the gleam in his square-shaped reading glasses from the gas lamp he was holding. The light in the hallway behind him was shut off, making him look more demonic than ever. 

This was it. 

Ana wasted no time thinking. She slammed her knees onto the floor and pushed herself up, running for the bathroom door. She had nearly made it, but the tall man was too quick, and Ana was knocked off her feet by an external force. She crashed to the floor for a second time, crying out in pain as her right arm snapped beneath her weight. She felt unbearably nauseous and to make matters worse, Jonathan Crane now had her right where he wanted her. 

She went limp the minute he lifted her into his slender arms and hauled her over to the bed. 

"Don't try to run. You won't get very far," his calm voice uttered in her ear. 

Ana struggled against him despite his statement. She had been so close to freedom that the pain of her broken arm felt nearly insignificant. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. Even so, she was not on par with the unexpected strength of the former doctor's right arm – the other kept a firm hold on the gas lamp in case the struggle between them grew more intense.

Crane held her around the waist and pulled her into his lap and against his chest. Ana spat insults at him as the seat of his pants rubbed against her bottom, but it ignored them. 

"L-let me go!" Ana cried. It had been so long since she had used her voice that she was surprised by how broken it sounded.

The tall man silenced her with a thin finger. 

"Be quiet now," he whispered. Despite the softness of his tone, he meant it as a warning.

And so she did, hoping not to send him into a fit of rage – he was prone to throw temper tantrums when she was not cooperative. Ana kept her back straight to avoid touching him, save for his arms around her waist, the lamp he set on the floor next to his foot. 

The shrill cry of the police sirens throbbed in her ears, but Ana kept still as a statue. She concentrated on the warm, unstable breath that fanned across her neck as the sadist behind her began to hum quietly as they waited; for what, Ana wasn't sure, but the panic started to set in. What happened to the Expendables? Did he already kill them? Was she next? 

Ana knew she was, but the thought crossed her mind that the reason she was not yet dead was because Crane needed her. She was now his hostage. 

From nowhere, a heavy noise was made. The sound of footsteps on the roof of the house made Ana feel uneasy. Had the police lost their minds? They must have because the woman knew they were not being low-key. Who in their right mind would try an aerial raid? It might work on a common burglar, but not on Scarecrow.

Ana was not given time to mull over the thought because Crane shoved her forward and off the edge of the bed. He caught her upper arm and forced her up to stand with him, not exactly gentle with her throbbing right hand as he curled an arm around her heaving chest; the other slipped beneath her short, sleeping gown and brought the front up and over her belly button.

"Please stop," the woman begged. 

She was not sure what he was doing, but she didn’t like where this was heading. Her panties were exposed to him, and her sweat-covered skin felt cooler now that the gown was pulled away, bringing goosebumps to her arms. 

Crane laughed, burying his face into her unkempt hair. 

"This may hurt a little," he whispered.

A sharp pang in her stomach, right below her navel, made the woman stiffen up. She glanced down to see a standard-sized insulin needle in her skin. Her eyes fogged over with tears as she grew aware of the man's intentions. He was going to use her to get away by leaving her to die. Ana did not want to die in fear. 

The potency level with which he claimed to have injected her during their last session was too recent, and Ana was terrified at the thought of overdosing. She coiled tighter to herself, but a sheer pain swelled in the fat of her upper thigh. Crane had buried his chewed-down nails into her skin and pulled her closer to him. Her back was now pressed tightly against his chest.

"Be still now."

Ana nearly snapped an obscene reply at him, if not for the fact his finger was on the plunger of the needle 2 inches below her belly button. Instead, she tightened her jaw. 

"Are you scared? Tell me."

Again, she hummed a no. Ana did not want to indulge him. But his anger was not to be tempted. He scowled at her and tightened his grip on her thigh, scratching deep, red marks into her skin.

Ana cried out, sobbing hysterically. She was terrified; no need to deny it.

"P-please stop. You're hurting me." 

The idea of begging for her life crossed her mind. She could give him exactly what he wanted. But then, he still would kill her. It did not matter what she did. Ana had to try and keep herself alive long enough for the police to find her.

"You don't have to hurt me. I do want to be cured." Ana told the truth. 

She did want to be free of fear, free of him. However, his methods bordered more on torture than anything else. She might not have lived much longer if he had continued to treat her like a victim. Her head turned slowly in his direction. 

"Didn't you promise to help me, Doctor Crane?"

"And I have, my dear. But our time together is at an end." His soft voice echoed in her ear. His fingers drew slow, lax circles around the smooth skin on her leg. "Have I not helped you to overcome your fear?”

Ana gave his question a thought. In all honesty, she was not sure. She felt more worn out than ever, but she didn't feel any different. The concept of blood still terrified her. It brought shivers to her body, a slip-up that incited a loud, hot-blooded laugh from Crane.

I could lie, she told herself, but she was scared of what he might do to her. Doctor Crane spent enough time trying to break her and pick apart her mind that he knew when she was lying. The fact was, time had run out, and he was going to finish her off. Ana squeezed her eyes shut and with regret, shook her head in disagreement.

He tsked. "No, well, that's unfortunate, my dear. I had hoped the time we had spent together would show results. My only regret is not seeing this through.” 

His thump playfully tapped the head of the plunger.

Ana shook in fear. "Please," she begged. The pitiful sound of her voice made her want to vomit. Quiet sobs racked her body, and tears fell down her face.

Jonathan Crane shushed her. He was in glee. The young woman in his arms was the type of person he never thought could have challenged him, but she did. She was so scared of him, of the things he could do to her, even though she hid it so well. It made him feel alive again. But the one thing he craved, no matter how hard he pressured her, she would not give him. 

Ana Patterson would not scream. It both thrilled and annoyed Jonathan. 

"Let me hear you scream," he begged, burying his face into her hair. "We don't have much time."

He was right. The door was suddenly knocked open, and the sound of a smoke grenade bursting and rolling across the floor entered her ears, spilling wisps of smoke into the air. Whatever Jonathan was saying to her was drowned out by the officers of the GCPD as they swarmed them. Ana cried out for them to stop, but a warm tingle surged through her body; Jonathan injected the neon-orange liquid into her. Almost instantly, her mind felt unclear, and the familiar sense of panic began to rise.

The toxin worked its way into her consciousness and consumed her like a thick, warm blanket, forcing her body into a violent fit of convulsions. It hurt so bad. She dropped to the floor, curling into herself as the world around her went dark. But she did not make a noise. 

For the first time in her life, she welcomed death.

#batman fandom #jonathan crane #batman fanfiction #jonathan crane x oc #oc #dark themes #scarecrow batman #arkhamverse #Spotify

[larabiatasstuff]

Firstly I love your blog! Secondly could I please ask you to write a story about older terry? I'm someone who suffers with a nut allergy and I would love to see a story where he saves his beloved from her nut allergy just in the nick of time :)

First of all thank you so much for your kind words anon it really means a lot. 🖤As someone who suffers with a nut allergy herself I can relate. Of course I write that for you 🙏

It was date night for Terry and me. Like every Friday we talked about what we could do and this time we decided to have dinner at the new restaurant that opened recently. So we got there and a friendly woman guided us to our table. It was on the outside terrace where we could watch the stars. "It's beautiful here isn't it?" I asked him "But not as beautiful as you my love,you look breathtaking tonight." "Thank you honey, you look very handsome yourself Mr Silver." So we looked through the menus as a young, nervous looking woman approached us. "Hello I'm your waitress for tonight. What can I get you?" "Before we order I need you to know that I'm allergic to nuts so if you could get that information to the kitchen that would be perfect." "Oh, alright I... I will tell the chef." I gave her a warm smile. She must have been new to the job and I wanted to comfort her. "It's alright there's no need to be nervous, you're doing a great job." she nodded and took our orders and left. "That was very sweet of you my love." Terry said "Yeah I remember my first time serving guests and there was no one who had a nice word for me." Terry took my hand and placed a soft kiss on the back. "And that's exactly why I love you."After some time our food arrived and it was absolutely amazing. When we were finished we decided to stay for a drink and that's when I started to feel unwell. Terry of course noticed it immediately" Are you alright my love? ".I took a sip of my water" I don't know, I feel kind of warm and my stomach feels weird. I think I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." I got up from my seat and made my way to the restroom. I looked into the mirror and froze, my whole face was red and I had a hard time swallowing and breathing. I knew I had an allergic reaction but unfortunately I didn't bring my purse with me where my epi pen was in. I tried to calm down but on my way to the door I felt dizzy and fell to the floor. I couldn't call for help and was desperately trying to get some air. "Sweetheart? Is everything okay in there?" I heard Terry's voice coming from outside, I tried to answer him but all I could bring out was a moan. Then he opened the door and his eyes went wide. "Oh my god, somebody call an ambulance my girlfriend has an allergic reaction, now!" he hurried away to get the epi pen out of my purse and injected it into my thigh. "Everything will be fine my love, just hold on. I'm here okay? Try to breathe for me, deep breaths just like that." he knelt beside me holding my hand and stroking my hair. Breathing already started to feel easier. "I'm so glad you came... I was..." but Terry didn't let me finish "Shhh don't talk my love, you need to rest. We're waiting for the ambulance to get you checked up alright? Just keep breathing nice and slow." Then the ambulance arrived and took me to the hospital "Well Miss L/N you were lucky your boyfriend acted so fast you almost had an allergic shock. I will keep you here for tonight just in case but you'll be free to leave in the morning." "Thank you doctor. How are you feeling my love?" Terry asked sitting beside me. "Much better. You saved my life Terry. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here anymore." "Don't say that my love I'm always looking after you. I won't let anything happen to you as long as I'm alive and you know that.Also I talked to the restaurant owner and it seems that they accidentally switched your order with another one ". "Oh my the poor waitress, does she know it wasn't her fault?"Terry chuckled "There you are lying in a hospital bed worrying about others.Yeah I think he told her. Now rest a bit my love, I'll stay as long as you need me." I gave him a tired smile "I love you Terry Silver" he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "I love you too sweetheart."

#thomas ian griffith #sensei targaryen #terry silver #cobra kai #terry silver x reader

[voidfragments]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

repost, do not reblog this

NAME: bedo!

PRONOUNS : it/they/he

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : ims unless i know you elsewhere, which i understand is not the norm around here! i've had issues with people in the rpc stalking me in the past so i'm very hesitant to do anything that could potentially link my rp-related accounts to my personal accounts. i do have rp-focused discord accounts i'm willing to use for plotting & stuff with people i've known for a while, but as a general rule, we're probably gonna be in ims.

NAME OF MUSE(s) : there's like 80 of these bitches just look at my carrd

BEST EXPERIENCE : even if i just restrict it to specifically this blog, i'm not sure i could narrow anything down to a specific experience tbh! just, in general, it makes me really happy when people take an interest in my specific take on my muses, which is definitely something that's happened a fair amount here. i get a lot of dupe/portrayal anxiety so it's really nice to know when i'm doing something right!! also a huge fan of when characters can banter with each other. even if it's not actually banter and is legitimately mean-spirited ic (jia siblings i miss u every day...). it's just always extremely fun to me.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : idk man don't ghost me or talk shit about me behind my back and we're probably gucci? we're all a bunch of socially awkward nerds around here so i try to be understanding;;

MUSE PREFERENCES: characters who harbor deep obsessions, especially with specific people and/or to the point of affecting their sense of morality; tsunderes; mean and/or violent children; conflicted/morally gray heroes; The Komaeda Archetype (TM). i write all kinds of characters but these are some of the most common types for me to write! also: side characters nobody else cares about. my city now.

PLOTS OR MEMES : both have their time and place but i often prefer memes, at least to break the ice/kick things off! i struggle with plot ideas sometimes so memes save my life;;

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : idk how y'all can pump out 5+ para replies consistently. if you get a reply longer than around 3 paragraphs from me please assume i was briefly possessed by the spirit of my muse.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : my sleep schedule is ass and i'm easily distracted so i get most of my writing done in the late night/early morning when nobody else is awake lmao

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : depends on the muse lmao. some i inject a bit of myself into, some are just naturally kind of similar to me, some are extremely different!

Tagged by: @dupliciti ty <3

Tagging: you, the person reading this

#ooc #dash games #idkkkk i like to think i'm p flexible when it comes to rp

[icestarphoenix]

Backrooms!CDC

Here I go again, developing side characters before the main cast. Why is “CDC” the one entity I have a lot of ideas for

“CDC”’s human disguise wears a teal dress shirt with a black tie. His appearance is largely based on Drew’s CDC appearance. However, he wears a long white lab coat like Ben’s old CDC. He also wears a teal face mask and surgical gloves at all times.

His true form resembles a giant amoeba, just with human arms and hands instead of pseudopods. (Bipedal humanoid true forms? Nah, not on this blog.)

The eyes of his human disguise don’t have irises or pupils. Instead, they’re simply holes where you can see directly into his teal cytoplasm.

"CDC" often creates duplicate arms in his human disguise too in order to multitask more easily.

Has accrued a lot of body mass by performing phagocytosis on any poor soul that manages to get too close to him. Most of that new mass goes back into producing new equipment, tools, and medical files.

Doesn't move very fast, but if he really wants that new specimen he doesn't need to be fast.

His cytoplasm is extremely saturated with his own pathogen, which is a part of him to control. After becoming infected, “CDC” can gain complete control over a specimen’s body. It’s mainly used to “sedate” patients, control runaway material, and disassemble acquired material.

Defies pathogen classification. His outer body resembles a protozoa, his internal pathogen can maintain homeostasis like bacteria and it can infect cells like a virus. “CDC” can even release it airborne like the spores of fungi if wished. It also has an intelligence, seeing as the pathogen is “CDC”, making it very difficult to try and treat.

Despite being so slow, "CDC" is a very successful hunter. He can just infect someone and then make them walk back towards him. All while they're aware.

Can technically cure any disease caused by a pathogen, even the Hound Virus. It’s just that the patient would become infected by “CDC” instead.

On a related note, everything in “CDC”’s work area is “sterile.” “Sterile” in this case means devoid of any microorganisms...except for his own.

He resides on Level 666.1, where he’s sealed off a hospital room for his own use. The door has been covered so that it’s indistinguishable from the surrounding wall. The staff there know not to mess with the spot on the wall where a door should be, not unless they wish to donate their body mass.

Enjoys playing doctor and really gets into the role.

Likes administering "sedatives" through injection even though "CDC" can just continuously infect the air.

Keeps medical files on past patients, even though they don't come back for return visits.

Can perform the duties of an entire surgical team by himself, even though his specialties would be epidemiology and pathology.

As he usually says, “D-Don’t be afr-fraid, I-I won’t let yyyyou die in m-m-my care.” And he'd be right.

If I added the medical horror arc, “CDC” would take Greg to his private room after telling “Gov” that Greg needed to be treated for an infection. Really, “CDC” just wanted to find out if there was a physical cause as to why the Statehouse hasn’t killed this one yet. They usually run through those things pretty quickly. Was there some anomaly that made this specific specimen special? Add a lack of empathy for human life, little concern for malpractice, and a bodysnatching paralytic, and you can fill in the very traumatizing blanks.

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt cdc #backrooms!au #medical horror #tw death mention

[mindbat]

At the Dawn of a New Year

We made it, everyone! Congrats and welcome to 2024 🎉

So much has changed. So much is going to change.

I’ve been away from the blog for a long time, and for that I apologize. I’ve been going through some life changes, culminating in a split from my wife.

I’m also been in therapy for several months now, for the first time. It’s both cause and consequence of everything I’m going through. Therapy for me is like going to the gym, but for my emotions. It’s hard, and I’m always sore afterward, but I’m stronger and glad I went. Would recommend.

Some things haven’t changed, though. I’m still living in Victoria, BC, and still feel incredibly lucky to be here. This city has welcomed me in so many unexpected ways. I’m grateful, and I can only hope I can pay it back someday.

I’m also still working my day-job as a programmer, and toiling away at my novels and short stories on the side. Still living without a car. Still trying to get the right amount of seasoning on my roasted vegetables. Still buying way too many books (I know, “too many books” is a category error. There are never enough books).

I want to start this year off with gratitude. Both of what I’ve accomplished over the last year, and for what’s to come. So, as 2024 rises and stretches, like a cat waking from a nap in the sun, let me list the things I’m grateful for:

My writing group, with whose help I’ve finished editing a novel for the first time. And not just finished, but synopsis written and everything ready to submit to agents, starting this week.

The organizers of the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, who put on such a welcoming and stimulating conference. And because of whom I was able to meet an agent that gave me the injection of confidence I needed to finish up that novel synopsis.

My co-workers at Cisco, who every day demonstrate to me how a non-toxic technical culture can work.

The folks at IRCC and BC’s Provincial Nominee Program, who gave this middle-aged guy a shot at permanent residence in Canada.

My D&D group, who opened their gaming table and their arms to this immigrant.

Dan, David, Baamonde, Alex, and Haywood, friends who have stuck with me over many years, through many ups and downs.

My family, particularly my mom and older sister, who have never held my lack of phone calls or texts against me.

The Victoria Creative Writing Group, without whom I would not have met my writing circle.

The Victoria Bowmen Club, who taught me what’s it like to really wield a bow (after years of me writing about it).

The folks on social.linux.pizza, mstdn.ca, and tenforward.social, who helped me find my footing (and friends) in the fediverse.

So many gifts, from so many people. Thank you, all, for everything you’ve given me, everything you’ve taught me.

May your new year be a bright one.

[maxwell-grant]

By no means do this now, but if you ever get the time recommending some good shadow fanfiction would be cool?

(Art by Michael Walsh)

Because fanfiction can be a touchy subject, I feel like I need to add a big caveat upfront that I don't endorse or necessarily agree with every single aspect of a fanfic take on the character, nor do I expect others to agree with mine for that matter. I've written Shadow fanfic and taken liberties aplenty with the material, and will probably take more if I get back on that saddle. This is just par for the course when it comes to fanfic. I’m not trying to be judgmental, I just wanna put this out here to try and prevent misunderstandings if possible.

There’s really not that many Shadow fics out there to begin with (especially not after the Conde Nast webpage purges of the 2000s) and not that many that I’d even particularly recommend, I’ve read pretty much all of them still available online as is. I’m gonna leave out some things that could reasonably be called published fanfiction, like the Tales of The Shadowmen stories featuring the character, and stick purely to what you’d find online. So here goes some of my recommendations

Works written by Cryptix / @oldschoolcrimefighters: I've said this before and don't think I can say it enough, but @cryptix23's posts on The Shadow's pulp magazines were one of the biggest deciding factors in making my liking for The Shadow turn into, *gestures at that masterpost on top of my blog, this. I owe her a debt I can never really repay for showing me the heart of this character in a way nobody else had, just by pointing out what was in the source material all along, and particularly regarding info on the agents where there was nowhere else to be found. I still greatly enjoy reading her own fics for the character and how she depicts the dynamics between the agents and The Shadow, and how much color and life they inject into these adventures. 

The Nexusverse Shadow / works written by evillurks: You can find some of the prompts written via their Deviantart account Shadowtricker. This one is a lot harder to find in it’s entirety and I think some pages for it are non-existant outside of the Wayback Machine, I compiled as many as I could find in a couple of Word docs for personal reading and probably missed several. It’s on livejournal and comprises a couple hundred (maybe over a thousand) posts of a Shadow RP blog, based around the idea of a somewhat aged-up version of The Shadow still living and active in the 1980s, interacting with an AU version of Myra Reldon (the protagonist more often than not) as well as other characters and worlds through a sort of multiversal crossover dimension thing. 

I haven’t had time to read all or even most of the long-form RP stories published but I have read most of their short snippets and I can definitely recommend them. These feels the most like Shadow pulps out of any of these I’ve read, there’s certainly a case for this to be the best version of Myra Reldon (taking everything that worked about the pulp version and doing it better) to the point I kinda default to this as my frame of reference for Myra at times, and though it’s not a high bar to clear, it’s the best take I’ve seen on a “The Shadow in modern times / out of his own time” concept, letting the character age and adapt to different times for better or worse, and still remain recognizably distinct and fiercesome.

Kimberly-Murphy Smith’s Shadow saga: Quoted this one briefly in another post. Will reiterate that, yes, there are aspects about this take on the character that I do find very disagreeable to the point I feel the need to point it out, but all in all: This basically takes the movie version of The Shadow and thoroughly combines with the radio, pulp and comics versions, as well as the other iterations of the movie story such as the James Luceno novelization and the Kaluta/Goss comic, and somehow makes it work.

It’s the best take there ever was on specifically the “movie” version of The Shadow because it’s structured entirely around making the inserted movie changes into a fleshed out character and universe for these things to be in. It did maybe the best job anyone had ever done, until Matt Wagner, of combining and editing all the separate takes on The Shadow into something cohesive and entertaining, as well as making his relationship with Margo work. I like it enough that it even went a long way in redeeming the movie characterization for me. It also did the one thing I absolutely think Shadow fanfics / modern works should be doing, which is introducing new agents aplenty to the fold that don’t overlap with the established supporting cast. 

Der Dunkle Adler by Keith Holt: A short one, it takes place in a German tavern in WW1 with soldiers sharing stories about encounters with the mysterious flying ace with a boogeyman reputation. Really good premise, really good execution, solid ending, this is the one that inspired me to do my own take on The Shadow’s war years (although not how I’d “canonically” handle it, for the most part).

Identities and the 8th Wonder by Matt Dennion: It’s The Shadow vs King Kong told through the perspective of his 3 main identities, as Lamont Cranston shows up to Carl Denham’s exhibit, The Shadow frantically struggles solo to save people from Kong’s rampage despite being completely powerless to do anything but temporarily distract Kong, and then, as The Black Eagle, he works alongside G-8 and his team to put down Kong for good. Not the only time I’ve seen this premise done and usually this kind of “spot the cameo” exercise bores me, but this one stuck with me for a long time as an excellent display of The Shadow fighting despite being hopelessly outmatched in a way he’s never been before, spinning plans and traps on the fly against an unsurmountable menace destroying his city, making mistakes (even fatal ones) in trying to save lives, and finding a way to overcome the odds and help save the day, to a grim resolution unusual for Shadow stories. It’s a little The Spider-y and in a way that works really well for me. 

Never to be Cheated by @saphura: Another short one. I like the premise, I like the prose, I like the characterization, the concept’s intriguing, very solid all-around and I tend to appreciate the more explicitly supernatural takes on The Shadow that emphasize the ring and it’s weird significance. 

The Life of an Agent series by Greg Daulton: This one sort of provides a bit of backstory for the main agents by showing how they could have met and joined The Shadow. I don’t have much to say about it but it’s pretty allright, more interesting as kind of a shorthand to get to know the agents a little better. 

Lineage by Matt Dennion and Tom Kurtz: It’s The Shadow, Batman, and Zorro (both the original and a descendant) battling across four decades to foil Ra’s al Ghul’s master plan. It’s this big epic that does a couple of things I do find interesting, namely 1: I think Ra’s al Ghul being the arch-villain of several different established characters (and even killing one of them), with big names and legacies in their own right across the decades works pretty well in selling him as a big immortal threat to the world at large, 2: I kinda like the idea of Shambala being presided over by god-like figures from different mythologies, I mostly hate Shambala conceptually and in entirety to begin with so anything mildly interesting for it is a plus 

In His Shadow by JanEyrEvanescence12: This one falls more on the “very loose reinterpretation of a lot of things and plenty of concepts I find brutally disagreeable, but it does some things interestingly enough that I still think it makes for a pretty allright read to go back to, and because it’s fanfic it’s easy to look at it more for what it is” side of things. It’s unfinished and I wouldn’t even particularly recommend it for it’s story, more so for it’s imagination and some of what it’s doing to reinterpret the character. 

Strange Bedfellows by Zath Chauvert: Cute, simple, conceptually pretty funny, and I’m giving away the twist here as is, but the Phurba becoming sort of Lamont and Margo’s weird dog monster, that likes Margo and still kinda hates Lamont, is pretty great.

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #fanfic #opinion #gonna be upfront here and say that #the people who write Harry Vincent-centric fics usually get it right over 95% of everyone else writing Shadow content #and I'm including myself in those 95% #official and non-official alike #there's like 4 of you but you Get It #well 5 actually but one of them hid his tracks more neatly

[thedailytao]

Passage 75

When people go hungry, the government’s taxes are too high. When people become rebellious, the government has become too intrusive.

When people begin to view death lightly, wealthy people have too much, which causes others to starve.

Only those who do not cling to their life can save it.

This passage is a sort of continuation of the previous. Where the previous talked about moderating our fear of death, this one cautions us to also moderate our love of life. The last line can be translated in many ways. I think McDonald’s choice here captures the message fairly well. Other translations provide a comparison, variously phrased to this effect: that it is better to not care about your life than it is to care about it too much.

Caring about one’s life too much drives people to try to control and prolong it, to hoard wealth and food. I once saw an interview with an old money type who gave away 99% of his wealth, leaving him with $10 million. His family, he said, were horrified, and one asked him, “but what if you have a child that has expensive special needs?” Hearing that, all I could think of was a hoarder saying, “Don’t throw out that box – I might need it!” Reading this passage, we can see that the hoarding of wealth has been motivated by the same desperate fears for thousands of years: clinging to money, clinging to life, uncaring of all those without enough.

I should note that the word translated here as ‘intrusive’ is yǒu wéi (有為), the opposite of the wuwei hands-off government that I discussed way, way back in this blog. It is interesting to me to bookend these two concepts way at the front and back of the book. Since learning about wuwei, the Tao te Ching has presented us with countless lessons about flexibility and yielding, about how you can only have an enemy if you have a self, how if you give people nothing to oppose, they will not oppose you. After all of that, presenting the idea of the youwei government, it seems such an obvious mistake. Of course a government that injects itself into people’s lives is more likely to incite opposition – it’s giving them something to oppose!

Finally, I appreciate that “viewing death lightly” is also admonished in this passage about overvaluing life – but here it is not seen as an evil unto itself, the way clinging to life is. Rather, it’s a symptom of a larger problem. I think about how relentlessly we are exposed to news about death in the modern day. I can’t load a news page without seeing a headline about some celebrity death or the death toll from a natural disaster on the other side of the world. I can’t help but wonder, seeing them, if the constant barrage of death on my phone, most of which I have no connection to and couldn’t have done anything about, isn’t desensitizing me to the impact of deaths closer to home, which I might have more agency in preventing.

#the daily tao #taoism #tao te ching

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hi! saw you are a teacher, may i ask how you choose to be one (if you don't mind 👉👈)? I am considering pedagogy but my experience with teachers when I was a kid weren't very good, as i was the "shy quiet lonely exclueded" kid in a class of louder kids, and the few times i got accepted by my classmates the teachers would scold me for talking too much but tell nothing to the other kids, i even remember one saying she didn't expected that kind of behavious coming from me as i was so behaved, and i was always the buffer for the most misbehaving kids, which i always hated

I’m so sorry that happened to you. That’s so sad :(

I will write a very long biography

Uh I kind of got here by accident! I never wanted to be a teacher lmao. Basically, I studied psychology for my bachelors then switched to the sport science department for my masters and studied applied sport and exercise psychology. My dream was to work in sports. I was running a blog all about sport psychology and relating it to ice hockey and football based on current issues and applying like mad to jobs relating to sport and exercise but could find nothing. You need a lot of experience for these jobs but I grew up poor and couldn’t drive so I was working 40 hours a week, walking an hour to work and an hour back so didn’t have the time to walk elsewhere and volunteer. I’m not from a big place so there weren’t any sports team other than little local ones so I’d have had to take a train in the evening etc and I gave up.

Ended up getting so frustrated I just became an au pair. Moved to Denmark. Did try applying to volunteer with sports clubs but nobody ever got back when I tried to contact.

Came home and was working at greggs. Best job ever. I then started working at my local sports centre where I had to increase attendance amongst hard to reach groups, primarily elderly and disabled people. I really enjoyed that. I helped grow our local disability sport group, introduced trampolining to it, set up archery sessions etc. I also had a drop in club for over 60s where we played sport and had a chat over a cup of tea. Brought along dementia groups and prostate cancer groups to talk to them. (I still have a picture of us all up on my fridge when we went to London).

We had redundancies and I also ended up running the children’s club that ran in the school holidays. I had to do all the planning and did extra hours helping to run it (some weeks I was doing like 80 hours lmao).

I’ve always loved kids and I really enjoyed that part but I wanted more than just playing dodgeball with them. My boss was also a bit of a nightmare so I found a job as a TA in a school. I did that for 4 years and felt bad that I had a masters degree and was “just” a TA. At the same time, I wasn’t “just” a TA. Maybe in the past they washed up paint pots and listened to children read. Yeah, I made sure everything was photocopied and trimmed and supported lower ability kids in lessons but also I ran interventions that I planned for memory, phonics, fine motor skills, speech and language, emotional regulation. I was the first person they’d come to when they’d been in trouble or something awful had happened at home. I dealt with major safeguarding incidents, had to speak to aggressive parents, deal with things that massively shocked me about their home life whilst remaining professional. I’ve had diabetic children I’ve had to inject with insulin even on residential trips where I was their “parent” for 5 days straight, epileptic children who I’ve had to give medicine to daily, children who use wheelchairs that I’ve had to take to the toilet and change their nappies.

Then I got a promotion to cover classes as I’d done it a lot during covid when people were off. It was a massive learning curve but thankfully I already knew every child in the school and I was loved so they’d cheer when I walked through the door. I’ve worked with lots of teachers and seen great ones and good ones and different tactics and techniques. My mantra to them is “we have to do the boring bit before we do the fun bit”. We get the work done to a good standard and we can play a game, go outside etc. They know my rules!

I switched schools and now I am still covering but I get to plan the lessons I cover so it’s another step up. I teach every class but different subjects eg geography in one year group, religion in another. It’s more fun as I can decide how to deliver the lesson and can make it more engaging. I know the children a bit better now I’ve been there for a few weeks so I know what they’ll enjoy.

For me, I need to know the classes well. I get the energetic kids who can’t sit still to hand out books or sheets. I get the lowest ability children who can’t access the lesson to help me click things on the board so they’re still part of it. I get the shy children to whisper me the answer and I will tell the rest of the class. I’m very much adaptive to the class I have so they can all access it.

I love it although I do feel like I’m wasting my masters still. The money isn’t great. When I grew up, school was my safe place. I had a lot going on at home and school was stable and safe. It was really hard to leave my old school because I had children in difficult situations who also saw school as safe. They saw me as their safe adult who they could hug and cry on and ask to go for a private chat when things became too much. I think for me that was the most important part of my job and the thing that mattered most.

So that is how I ended up teaching! I think teaching depends a lot about the children and staff you work with. Some classes I’m like yay! I have them today! Other times I’m like “this afternoon is about me surviving them”. It’s fun and varied but also hard work. I don’t have a TA with me ever which is hard!

#anon asks