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sgiandubh · 6 months

Note

Hello how are you? I follow several shippers' blogs and I noticed that every now and then some bloggers publish hateful messages they received. My question is about mental health: how do you deal with it? I understand that your presence here is relatively recent, but have you ever regretted something?

Dear Mental Health Anon,

This is the kind of submissions I welcome with all my heart, because they are benevolent and witty. Forgive me already for what I suspect will be a long answer. It is not the pleasure of hearing me talk that prompts them, but the sincere intention to answer deserving asks as clearly, fully and honestly as I can.

The short answer is : I am fine, Fall is slowly coming and nights are starting to be really chilly. There's some light rain tapping on the roof of my flat and I will spend my week-end wandering around some of my favorite places on Earth. And now, onwards to the consistent and interesting ask of yours...

The worst trolling message I have ever seen in this fandom is the one I am immediately going to post below, because I think it should serve us all as warning and reminder. It was posted on a blog I have been reading from the beginning of my long lurking days on Tumblr: @cb4tb is one of the most balanced and articulate people in this corner of the Internet. I remember being shocked by its cold and very coherent violence. The feat of a casebook sociopath, who thinks her asks in Spanish (I am 200% certain about it) and who has an appalling command of English grammar. Written on Christmas' Eve and on purpose:

Compared to the alarming slander @cb4tb got (whatever for is a mystery, she is non conflictual and posts very witty business insights) on a day that should be completely taboo for every civilized human being (you don't need to believe in God to respect one of Christianity's most important celebrations), whatever hate I could get in here is definitely subpar. Most of it did not make it on my page and went straight to the bin. But it's not always easy: I am as human as you, Anon, and sometimes I feel personally insulted and revolted by the smugness and pettiness of it all. However, I must immediately add their hate never made me give up an inch of my convictions. They are the result of a long interval of watching and pondering, coupled with my own observations I gladly share with like-minded women all around the world. That often hits a nerve or bruises overinflated egos on the Other Side. So be it: I am not here to be meek and obedient, if I never was meek and obedient in real life. I am here to bring clarity and build trust, which incidentally resonates very closely to what I do for a living. That probably rates me as a moderate on the shipper spectrum, in the sense that by complete design I put aside some divisive topics I firmly chose not to discuss. I am not interested to bring attention on me, in here, and the least thing I'd like is to be a vector of discord. So that would also rate me as a peacemaker of sorts - and yes, that sounds perhaps pretentious, but I believe it is needed, especially now.

I only felt a clear intention to threaten me twice, both in DM. The first time it curiously came from one extreme fringe of the shipper community and I brushed it off, because it was an empty, almost ridiculous threat. I politely denied and that was it - two persons blocked me and there were no other consequences to it. The second time, an anti came to confront me on an irrelevant point, with a very aggressive undertone. I blocked and almost forgot about it. If you have it clear enough in your mind that such things cannot be avoided and, at the same time, you know that your own moral compass is not compromised, these details will not affect you. At all. I confidently promise you that. Last but not least: if you are not great with compartmentalizing, don't step in the arena. It can seriously ruffle your self-esteem and it's not worth it.

So this is how I deal with it: I focus on what I have to say (does it bring something new? interesting? positive? thought-provoking?), on the way of saying it (above all, be kind and gracious to every other shipper) and on the right moment to say it (only when I am honestly sure I can do it with no unwanted consequences). But I will stand in solidarity with any shipper (any single one of them) who is humiliated, belittled or disparaged, with not a single shred of fear in the world. And I would also fend for myself if necessary, if I am getting over-the-top slander: all the other yapping, I ignore. Sometimes (often, even) it's more interesting to watch.

And if anything else fails, I go for a long drive and have a coffee at the seaside or simply open a book or listen to some Bach or call Someone. Or take this little big guy out for a lazy walk in the park:

You ask me if I regret anything. Absolutely not. I have received more than I could ever give, in here. I have met spectacular women and men, I have grown very fond of and feel very close to. I have had the immense satisfaction of sharing their secrets, their worries, their plans and this means trust, in my book, for which I will never tire saying how grateful I am. I also strived to respond in kind and I mean to honor this unwritten contract. Last but not least, I have watched this community slowly dusting off months of sadness and perhaps starting to open up again.

And all of this makes me damn proud of who we are, Anon. Thank you for dropping by! You are always welcome on my page.

#Anon

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year

Text

His (Mine.) - Azriel x reader

A/N: anyone remember Filthy Mongrel? Well, this is the beginning of it all! Haha, I totally haven’t been fantasising about this dynamic for the past seven months (for the love of god, don’t embarrass me by figuring out how long this has been in my drafts)

Warnings: reader being bit of a dick to Azzie, swearing, Lord Devlon, only child writing siblings

“What?”

Your father’s brow dipped, lip curling at your tone, but chose to ignore it in favour of being rid of you as quickly as possible, “you know what the rules are.”

“You’re the one set against females learning to fight in the first place. Why am I being punished for not turning up to those lessons?” You seethed, hands clenched at your sides. “Be ready for tomorrow morning.” His tone made it clear that in his mind, the conversation was finished.

“No way,” you felt your temperature drop, surely as the blood drained from your face, “you’re actually expecting me to go along with this?” His brow remained dipped in distain at your unwelcome outburst. You huffed an empty laugh, “you want me to train with that dog?”

“That’s the end of the conversation.”

“Father—”

“Enough.”

You swallowed at the tone. He was serious.

“Out.”

You moved to open your mouth, but he stood from behind his desk. How pretentious was that? Calling your own daughter all the way into your office, that was in a whole other structure to your home. Still, you gritted your teeth, “have you no concern for your daughter? None?” His face was hard, but he wasn’t flaring his wings as a sign of warning so that was something. “You’d throw me to that beast over some small missteps?”

“Edvard will escort you to and from training, outside his own lessons,” was all your father replied with.

“But he trains for so much longer than I do. There will be hours of unmonitored time between the end of my session and his,” you pushed, heart beat raising slightly at the thought. “You should have thought about that before you failed to show up for the past three months.”

Your lips pursed.

“Now,” he spoke, returning to his chair, “do not cause me any more grief.” Frustration bubbled beneath your skin alongside an unhealthy dose of fear. Your lip curled as you left with a hardly concealed snarl in your father’s direction, storming out of his room only to run into a male body.

You reeled back in surprise, eyes narrowing as they met their mirror. “Evesdropping, twat bag?” Edvard gave you a guilty half-grin, “maybe.” Your lip curled at your brother, just a few inches above you now. “Did you know about it?” The smile dropped as he shook his head, his dark brown hair shifting tones in the limited light of your house, “dad told me that I should be up early and ready for tomorrow morning, but didn’t say what for.”

Both your eyes flickered to his office door, voices dropping below whispers, “so why are you here then? Surely not come all this way to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?” He held up his hands innocently, “why do you think so little of me, dear sister,” he mocked. “I think so little of you, because you’re my twin, beloved brother,” you snapped back. A grin tipped the corners of his mouth, spark in his eyes, “you mean because you would do the exact same thing I’ve just done?”

There was a pause.

“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, looking away.

Ed lowered his hands from where he’d be holding them in surrender, “come on, let’s go back. Have some food,” he suggested, turning and flaring a wing to wrap behind you and pull you along, “I’m starving.”

“Pig.”

“Growing male, actually.” He snapped back, shoving you forward before tucking his wing behind him. You rolled your eyes, descending the staircase with him padding quietly at your feet. “What we thinking tonight?” You jumped the last three steps, Ed hesitating two behind you before leaping to the floor.

“Soup?” He suggested, brows raised in question. You scrunched your nose. “Takes a while. Not sure if we have any onions in.” Ed scrunched his own nose, “I hate onions.” Both of you continued down the hallway, “probably good for you, then.” Ed raised a brow. “Because you hate them. Must mean they’re healthy.” His lip curled, “curse you, nature.” You stifled a laugh that came out as a snort. “Pig,” he muttered. “Dick,” you spat in return.

You reached for the front door handle, about to leave when it twisted on its own. You frowned before leaping backwards, dodging a smack to the forehead, stumbling backward into Ed who released a surprised yelp. The door swung open, a tall, well-built male striding through, casting a single glance over the two of you, affording a short nod of acknowledgement to your twin who straightened behind you.

“Dickhead,” you mumbled under your breath, the male continuing on his path down the hallway, catching the door and stomping out. You turned when Ed didn’t follow you out, turning in the entrance. He was staring after the male, watching as he disappeared down the corridor. “Ed,” you hissed, swatting him on the arm. He blinked, turning his head to you, a brow risen in confusion. You bulged your eyes in reply, hitching up your eyes brows. His own brow furrowed. “Stop eye-fucking the General,” you hissed. Edvard narrowed his eyes at you, scowling, “I wasn’t eye-fucking anyone,” he snapped, storming out of the doorway, you scowling right behind him.

He was striding intentionally faster, forcing you to speed up. “Slow down,” you snapped, managing to keep in pace with him, “what’s got your panties in a twist?” He refused to deign you with an answer, moving faster than before. You stopped, fists curling by your sides as your breath came out in fogged puffs, “Edvard!” He didn’t stop or slow down. Smoke practically poured from between your gritted teeth as you broke into a run, sprinting at him as your arms encased his lower waist, slamming into him at full speed, both of you collapsing to the ground.

Edvard snarled as he went down, both of you scrambling from the ground. You pulled yourself up over him as he turned onto his back with difficultly, his hands shoving at your shoulders as you were flung backwards, his legs tucking up beneath you then slamming into your hip bones, making sure to avoid your stomach. You were launched backward in the snow, stumbling and tripping over yourself until you smacked against the ground, landing on your wings with a pained hiss.

White spots tipped your vision as you pushed up onto your elbows too quickly, attempting to relive the pressure on your wings. When everything came back into focus, Edvard was stood over you, arms crossed, scowling. You snarled at him, hurrying to your feet, wobbling a little as dizziness momentarily swayed you, “what’s your problem?”

“No, what’s your problem?” He snapped, wings flaring behind him. Your brow narrowed at him. He huffed a curt sigh, “I’m not arguing with you here.” He turned on his foot, aiming for your house. “Fine,” you snapped, storming after him, making sure to shove into him as you passed, a snarl following shortly after.

————————

Weak sunlight filtered through your window, making you squeeze your eyes closed. Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the large bed, “Ed,” you mumbled drowsily, “wake up.” A low groan came from behind you and you felt it as he turned onto his side, pulling a pillow over his face. You leaned back, snatching the pillow away, “come on.”

Reluctantly, you made your way down stairs, having grabbed a warm robe to wrap yourself in as you turned to the fireplace. The fire was promptly lit, pouring the last of the water into the kettle before placing in on the flat surface above the roaring fire. From above came the heavy steps of your brother fetching the wooden pole he would string over his shoulders to carry the morning’s water inside.

Around two and a half hours later - according to the sundial in the centre of the settlement - you and your twin were both washed, dressed and fed. Anxious taps reverberated from beneath the table where your heel was repeatedly patting the floorboards. “This is the worst,” you groaned, slumping forward, forehead pressing into the table too. Ed yawned loudly, propping his cheek on his hand as he tried to keep his eyes open. “How much longer?”

“That’s the seventh time you’ve asked me since we finished the washing up,” he grumbled, dutifully raising from his sitting position to peer out the window, checking the sundial, “‘nother ten minutes?” You sighed heavily, groaning into the wood.

Edvard returned to the table, slumping back into the hard chair, “did dad tell you where this was going to happen?” You nodded into the table warily, pushing upright, “said it’d be in the forest. Think even he knew’t’d look bad. ‘Specially in a camp our size,” you sighed, yawning. Ed frowned, “that just makes it look worse,” he observed. You nodded, “go tell him yourself, we both know he won’t listen to me.”

Your twin blinked slowly, “you supposed to meet him in the forest? Like, am I s’pposed to walk you?” Your brow narrowed, nose wrinkling. “He’d’ve said that, right?” Ed furrowed his own brow, “probably?” He sounded unsure.

You sighed again, slamming your hands against the table top, making him jump. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.” Ed raised a single dark brow, “cards?” You shook your head, “pick-up-sticks?” He shook his head. “Stone-parchment-blade?” You suggested.

“As a game to decide, or, like, a game by itself?” Your brow furrowed, “was going to say a game by itself, but to decide, instead.” He nodded.

The two of you held out your palms, counting to three and chanting before settling on a move. Ed had his palm curled into a fist: stone. You had your three middle-most fingers stuck out, thumb holding down your pinky: blade. Your twin slumped onto the table, groaning, “why are you grumbling, you won?”

“Are you going to get the cards?”

“No,” you grinned.

“Yeah.” He nodded, “thought not.”

Halfway through the third round, a series of knocks were landed on the door. You made eye contact over your cards, Ed raising a brow, “you gonna get that?”

“You get it,” you hissed.

“What? Why should I get it?” He snapped.

“You’re the male!”

“That’s an unhealthy stereotype.”

“Big words,” you returned.

“I know what they mean, too,” he gloated.

“Very impressive,” you shot back, in a condescending tone, “but I don’t want to go in case you cheat.”

“Cheat? Me?” He looked offended, “I would never!”

You scoffed, “I would, so you would.”

“Why don’t both of us go?”

“Then it looks like we’re scared.”

“It’s almost as if we are,” Edvard snapped back.

“Why are you scared? I thought you loved bastards.”

His brow narrowed, “are you serious right now?”

You folded your arms across your chest indignantly.

Another series of knocks resounded through your home, a little louder than before. You both made eye contact, before quietly rushing out the kitchen door, stumbling over one another as you peered round the corner down the hallway leading to the front door. “I think it’s darker than normal,” you murmured, noting the dim light coming through the small, oval window placed in the upper centre of the wooden entryway. The two of you stood there a moment longer in silence, waiting.

“This is ridiculous,” you hissed. Your twin nodded in agreement.

Both of you remained where you were.

“Go on,” Edvard hissed, shoving you out into the hallway. As usual, he didn’t know his own strength, sending you careening into the wall, your arms coming up instinctively to block yourself. “Prick,” you hissed over your shoulder as you tried to find a confident stride. Then you were the other side of the door. A single slab of wood between you and the male on the outside. You refused to hesitate, hand wrapping around the handle and turning.

A cold gust of wind blew in, definitely a sign, making you grip the handle tighter. An outline of darkness silhouetted him against the bright outside; you clenched your jaw. Instinctively, your lip curled, brow narrowing as you took in his lean but powerful frame. As far as you could tell, he wasn’t carrying any weapons. As far as you could tell. So, that didn’t mean much. He was a weapon of himself.

“Y/N?” He asked, checking you were the right person despite obviously being certain. You raised your chin, looking down your nose at him. In a way. His eyes flicked upward over your shoulder. You refused to turn your eyes from the male for even a second. “Edvard, I take it?” Relief rinsed down your spine at your twin’s presence. “Yes sir,” Ed replied, not a stutter or tremble to be found; you could practically hear the uplifting grin in his words. “Cass tells me you’re making fine progress,” the male spoke. Cass? You didn’t fail to notice his attention skating over you in favour of your male sibling. Typical.

Beside you, Ed stood a little straighter. You could practically see his chest puffing out as pride shone in his eyes, “glad he thinks so.” Your eyes narrowed as you glared at him through your peripherals. Why was he acting so at ease now? This male was dangerous. Just because he, for some reason, believed the General to be trustworthy, did not exempt this one from your wariness.

Returning attention to the male, your gaze snagged on the darkness of his wings. Moving darkness. Your jaw tightened as you zoned back into the conversation. “Would you like some tea?” You nearly choked on your own saliva, forcing you to cough abruptly into your hand. “We’re out of tea,” you managed, silently cursing the unaware dick-face that was your twin. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off with a pointed glare. His mouth pressed into a thin line, brows narrowing slightly, but he didn’t say anything else about coming inside.

“How long is this going to take?” You spoke, narrowing your eyes on the male before you, folding your arms over your chest. At the side of your head, you could feel Ed’s piercing gaze attempting to put a hole in your skull. “That’s up to you,” he replied, matching your tone perfectly. Your lip twitched but Ed decided to step in, “where exactly are we going?” The male’s eyes flicked back to your twin’s, once again skating over you. He nodded his head in the direction of the forest, before turning and setting off.

The two of you followed him out of your house before Edvard paused abruptly. You stopped, turning to look at him. “Cards!”

“You brought them with you?” You asked incredulously, noting he still held his hand of seven. “Just making sure you didn’t switch any,” he shot back disbelievingly. His eyes flickered over your shoulder to the large brute, “tiebreaker,” he grinned as he offered an explanation, “mind if I pop back in?”

“You aren’t going to take your sister’s?”

Your back stiffened.

Edvard’s brow lifted in confusion, gaze switching to you curiously. The hairs on your neck rose, tension gathering at the tip of your spine. Your twin looked at you expectantly, head cocked.

“Up her right sleeve.”

Your lip curled. Ed watched as you removed the card, sticking it out for him to take, pointedly avoiding his eyes. A bark of laughter came from his mouth as he took the card, “caught red-handed,” he grinned. Your cheeks warmed. “Not so sly after all, huh, quicksilver?”

“Well of course a bastard is going to be more underhanded,” you snapped, not taking any care to monitor your volume. Ed’s eyes narrowed down at you in a scathing glare, “will you shut up about that? It’s embarrassing,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.

“I thought being a low-born was nothing to ashamed of?” You snapped back. “You’re the problem,” he seethed, turning on his heel and storming back into your house, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

You had half a mind to turn and berate the adulterated brute for stepping into business that wasn’t his. You gritted your teeth, digging the nails of your left hand into your upper right arm, folding yourself tighter.

A few minutes passed and Ed was still inside the house. A fogged huff of annoyance slipped past your lips, your skin beginning to pebble beneath your clothes. You shifted on your feet, refolding your arms tighter than before, ducking your fingers between your sides and arms. What was taking him so long? Shifting your weight onto your other foot, leaning excessively to one side.

“Edvard’s taking a while,” came a deep drawl from behind you, making your ears twitch, lip curling at hearing his name from the brute’s mouth. You cast a glance over your shoulder - he was still in the same place - to check the sundial. “Why don’t you go check on him, then?” You gritted through your teeth. His eyes flicked down to yours, cold; observing. “Go on,” you kept your scowl up as you jerked your head in the houses direction before turning away from him again. You waited silently to see what he’d do. A few moments later, he passed you on silent feet, your muscles tensing as he moved toward the door, knocking before entering.

A puff of smog blew from your mouth as you exhaled, eyes flitting to the skies, keeping a keen eye out. Your lips tipped as you spotted a familiar figure coming in to land. The Lord landed smoothly, eyes instantly marking your presence as you approached, brow furrowed in displeasure, “why are you still here?”

“Waiting for the dog to come out. He went in to fetch Ed,” you supplied, tucking your wings in tighter and slightly hunching your shoulders. His gaze flicked to your house, lips tilting downward, just as the two emerged from the door.

Anticipation curled in your stomach as your father strode toward the two figures, following behind him quietly. “What’s the meaning of this?” He spoke, directing the question at your twin. Ed’s spine straightened, hands tightening behind his back, “kettle boiled over,” he answered, “he was helping clear the fire top.”

Your father’s resentful gaze fell on you. “You left the kettle on the fire?” He spoke, accusation underlying his words. You blinked, arms unfolding slightly before spinning an excuse, “it wouldn’t have boiled over if the fire had been put out. That’s more of a problem than forgetting a tiny scrap of metal.”

“You left the fire burning?” The question was directed at Ed but your father kept you beneath his irritated glare. “Yes, dad,” your twin admitted, knowing it was better for him to take the fall.

The menace in his gaze didn’t weaken, “neither of you eat tonight.” Your brow dipped at you straightened your spine, about to speak. “You’re sleeping downstairs,” he growled, piercing eyes flaring with barely dampened anger. “We wouldn’t have missed those things if his shadows hadn’t been playing at the windows,” you snapped the lie fluidly, jabbing a finger in the brute’s direction, hoping your father’s hatred for bastards would outweigh that he had for you. Ed glared at you from the other side of the war camp’s Lord.

“Another word from your mouth, girl, and you’ll be sleeping outside,” he snarled, lip curling in hardly restrained rage. This time Ed moved to speak, though you knew nothing good would come of it.

“It won’t happen again.” That was not Ed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on the tall male: curious, hateful, and reproachful. His shadows thinned to an almost imperceivable outline, a shallow veil of darkness to hide behind.

There was a tense pause, wondering if your father would settle for that or if he would insist of punishing one of you.

“See to it that it does not, Shadowsinger.” The word was practically spat.

Both you and your twin hardly breathed, too well acquainted with the repercussions of showing relief or anything but neutrality on your faces.

Edvard hastily shifted to the side as your father moved to return to the house. Neither of you showed any sign of reprieve until you’d both counted silently to fifty, long gone from your home, following quietly behind the male.

“Think we still won’t get food?” Ed broke the silence. You scowled at the Shadowsinger’s back, between his shoulder blades, “no matter how pissy he gets, I’ll be the one cooking. I think between us we can sneak some food out,” you threw a mischievous glance at your twin whose eyes were already sparking with matching devilry. “What do you have in mind?”

You thought for a moment, “I doubt he’ll know any better if a couple of potatoes worth of chips go missing…” you posed, the corners of your mouths hitching up. “Just make sure he doesn’t see how many were put in initially and we’ll be safe.” Ed nodded eagerly, then paused, “maybe some meat too, just to be sure?”

“For us, or father?”

“Dad, as distraction?”

Your lips twisted downward at the edges, “I’m not sure if my pride can take sucking up to that piece of sh—”

“Do you have to swear so much?” Ed cut you off, a single brow risen, his lip curled slightly. You shrugged, “he is what he is.”

“I get that, but…I don’t know…it’s just…a little much?” He winced as he spoke. “So what…just call him ‘father’ when he’s being a dic—” Ed glared. “—ta…tor? A dictator.” Your twin nodded, returning his gaze ahead of him, “dictator will do.”

“Anything else you want to scold me about?” You scowled playfully, folding your arms over your chest, skin beginning to pebble again. His eyes flitted to you before dashing away again. You sighed, “just tell me.” His eyes flicked forward, toward the male, then back again. Pointed. You rose a brow in challenge.

“At the very least, do you have to be so obvious about it?” Edvard sighed, continuing forward. “I’m not going to be one of those people who only talks shit behind someone’s back,” you snapped, “that’s cowardly.”

“But the things you’re saying? Unnecessary. And hurtful,” he argued. “I mean, how would you feel if people were saying those things at me?”

“First of all, if they were saying it about you, they’d be saying it about me, too. Secondly, one, if not both, of us would be dead. And third, that,” you hissed, gesturing to the shadowed male, “is a fully fledged warrior, I really doubt some name-calling is going to get under his skin.”

“If you can acknowledge he’s a warrior, can’t you see the sense in not pissing him off?” Ed hissed back.

You rolled your eyes, “what’s he going to do?” As soon as the words had left your mouth, both your eyes flicked to the Shadowsinger’s back. You reconsidered. “It wouldn’t work in his favour.” Ed gave you a look, a single eyebrow raised. Your jaw drops, “I’m not that bad,” you snapped. He continued giving you the look.

“Fuck you!”

#His (Mine.)#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel x illyrian!reader #acotar #azriel acotar #shadowsinger

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11queensupreme11 · 5 months

Note

Just wanted to ask (not sure if this got sent properly) but how could a loser!girlflop!MC NOT set back feminism?

Especially in the premise of your fic, where, if the tags are anything to go by, the female girlflop mc will lose everything she holds dear including her mental stability and bodily autonomy to five or more overpowered MEN (granted they are gods, but still men.)

The main difference between her and OG!Percy, who got both the love of his life Annabeth and a pretty set future at New Rome College? Their gender.

Just to explain, I for one fully, or at least mostly understood what I was getting into when I began reading Arsenic Blues. I saw the Dead Dove tag, and know how to differentiate reality from fiction.

However, there’s a possibility that some loud mouthed single braincelled men out there (or women with internalized misogyny) that considers a fem!Percy with practically the same strength, abilities, and personality, too pretentious or something, began reading your fic after seeing the tags to get off on fem!Percy being non con fucked out of her mind, traumatized, and knocked down a peg or billion, reduced to a mere common victim of the gods, because they don’t like the concept of a strong fem!Percy. Cuz surely a loser coded girl saving Olympus is just a fluke and she needs to be put in her place by capable men😒

(This possibility is of course not your problem nor responsibility of course, but it still does not negate the fact that it sets back feminism, as some may use it as “proof” that women are inferior idiots that can’t be trusted with power.

“Look at OG!Male!Percy! He saved Olympus and the world twice with little to no major losses, got the girl, and has a bright future! Look at fem!Percy. This idiot managed to destroy her world in her stupid attempt to do what only a male version of her could! I knew that first time was a fluke!)

An example of this would be Zenitsu from Demon Slayer, ( a loser coded cringey but cute badass, first character that came to mind), who has a pretty large fan base despite his loser personality. Make Zenitsu a girl, and all of a sudden everyone is bashing her for being the weak link, dead weight, pick me bitch.

Or using TBOSAS, some people truly blame Lucy Gray for leaving a clearly psychotic person and says that the Hunger Games were her fault for leaving. It’s her fault that Snow turned evil, blaming the woman for the man’s actions.

(you sent this twice, but the only difference is the last paragraph, so im just gonna answer to this one instead of repeating both, hope you don't mind!)

i truly don't believe my fanfic is gonna set feminism back because, as you said, it's not my responsibility if some incel or girl with internalized misogyny sees it and uses it as a "gotcha" that "hahaha girls are weak cuz look what happened to fem!percy".

no normal person is gonna read my fic (or any book like this in general tbh) and suddenly think "omg.... girls are inferior to men! this book told me so and i'm gonna take it as fact!". if someone does think that, then they already had issues to begin with way before they started reading. my fic did not give them those issues.

normal ppl don't let themselves get influenced by a book in such a way because they've already gotten a solidified sense of right or wrong and they should already know "yeah the stuff happening to this MC is bad and not at all their fault. anyway! time to enjoy more of their suffering 🤪".

UNLESS ofc, they don't have a fully solidified sense of right or wrong, meaning they're just way too young to be reading my fic (or books like it). even then, not really my fault because i already gave out the warnings and even ao3 gives an additional "are you sure you wanna read this?" page. people can't control who reads the fics/books, they can just give out warnings

also, about the og male!percy vs my fem!percy thing, i can easily just write fanfic about og!percy going through the same thing. then what are they gonna say? in fact, there already ARE some juicy dark fics about poor og percy, savior of olympus, being reduced to just another victim of the gods (there's actually a lot more dark fics of og!percy going through traumatizing shit then there are fem!percy ones hehe 😍)

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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grishaverse-chaos · 29 days

Note

The Darkling

why I like them: could have been SO GOOD in theory okay? I will never shut up about this because "character who everyone thinks is evil is actually just the victim of a smear campaign and some really bigoted propaganda" is SUCH a good character concept and I wish darkling fans were right about him because it would be so fucking cool and aesthetic

why I don't: he uh. he isn't that. he could have been so fucking iconic and instead he was just a vicious murderer. who grooms teenage girls.

favourite episode/scene: LOVE the bit where alina stabs his hand in s1e8. tbf that's more of a fav alina moment than anything else lmao, let me think... okay fr I love the "fine. make me your villain" scene bc it just really showcases who he is as a character and how he sees himself (hint: those two things are not the same)

favourite season/movie: imo he's better written in s1 of the show than in s2, idk though. and I do love his story in the kos duology lmao

favourite line: that one bit in rule of wolves where he says "everything I have done has been for ravka" because it's so clearly Not True and yet.... he clearly thinks it is.... so where does intent stop and impact begin...... it's deep okay

favourite outfit: purely for shits and giggles I'm going to say his black kefta in s2 where there's bits of gold bc I loveeee people being haunted by those they've wronged and I think alina haunting him really fits into that theme

otp: no thank you! in all honesty he prob could have been Fixed™ if he'd had a genuine relationship at an earlier age but he didn't so I refuse to inflict him on any other character. darkolai is interesting to consider though bc I feel like the ways they see themselves clash so heavily.... it's about self image and it's about villainy and law and justice and power and and and. they would Not be a good relationship but I think they should interact more for the Narrative

brotp: his sister ulla! they'd have such a fun sibling dynamic lmao I think it'd be sweet

headcanon: tbh I don't tend to think about him much beyond the big narrative stuff so I'm struggling to think of something that fits the genre of "headcanon".... but let's humanise him a little! I bet he reads really literary fiction and gets ever-so-slightly pretentious about it lmao

unpopular opinion: is it unpopular to say that despite his original good intentions he's a bit of a dickhead and not as smart as he thinks he is? in some corners of the fandom it totally is but idk

a wish: at this point there's not much more that could be done with his character beyond what's already been set up (him being mercy killed so he's not suffering in the thorn wood for all eternity) so I'm going to say that I hope his stans get better reading comprehension bc dear GOD some of the takes I see (posted in the alina tag btw I'm not deliberately seeking them out) are absolutely horrendous. is that too salty? perhaps. idc though it's my blog and darkling stans are free to block me if they don't like my takes

an oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: I swear if he goes NEAR alina genya or zoya again I will reach through the fourth wall to kill him myself. only half joking btw I'd be so pissed. imo they've all had the closure they need narratively and for him to seek them out again would be a dick move of the highest degree

5 words to best describe them: used to have good intentions. that might be cheating but idk if I can pick 5 random adjectives lmao

my nickname for them: I call him darkles sometimes (bc it's funny and also I think it'd piss him off if people called him that in-universe) also a lot of less positive nicknames ("that prick", "shithead" etc) but idk if that counts

#anyways sorry this took FOREVER it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks #but this was fun to think about! he's not my fav character as a person but holy shit is he interesting to analyse #anti darkling #<- just to be on the safe side #mayhem.txt #answered

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weemsfreak · 1 year

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The Board Pt 1: The Man

Summary: Anura Ricci works for the Outcast school board. They're struggling with many factors in life, quietly. They know so much, but can't seem to figure out exactly how to make themself happy. They befriend a certain Principal, and things begin to seem brighter for them.

Tw: Bit of angst

Note: I'm writing multiple fics at once lol. Again let me know what you think! All my fics will probably be based around the same thing. I like to write about things I am familiar with. ~620 words.

Larissa set her hot chocolate down on her desk and turned to her office balcony doors. She hesitated to open them as the cool wind of the fall seemed to be arriving. How she would miss the warmth of the sun, even if she didn't particularly like the hot weather. Opening her laptop, she looked through her few emails. Nothing caught her eye as she's lost in a train of thought, and she almost missed an email from the outcast school board, telling her to expect a start of the term visit from them in the near future.

The last time Nevermore had a visit from the board was second term last year, a mere 7 months ago that felt to Larissa like it could've been yesterday. Larissa didn't have a problem with the board as she was well respected as an outcast and an educated professional, until the last visit she had, which made her think about abandoning her job and Nevermore all together. Mind you, she didn't have to think twice, as she would never give up on her dear students so easily.

*7 months ago, February*

As soon as the man got a look at Larissa standing in the courtyard, he was belittled by her height, stature, and seemingly confident demeanor. "It's so nice to meet you Mr. Martell", Larissa held her hand out to him. He glared down at her gloved hands, but didn't reach out to give her his hand in return. He stared a up at her with a blank expression, "Likewise".

Larissa went on about the successes from the past few months and the new things that she was trying to implement this year, in hopes of bringing the outcasts closer to the normies that reside in Jericho. "Larissa, being alive as long as I have, as I am a vampire, I've seen this thing done time and time before. The normies will never accept us outcasts, and I don't appreciate you wasting our time and funding trying to prove what we already know as a fact." Larissa towered over him as she retaliated in a seemingly polite tone. "Mr. Martell, I do believe that as times change in the world for the better, we can become part of that change. I see many new opportunities for our younger generation in the near future, and as a vampire, I expect you are able to appreciate and want better times for our younger generation of vampires, seeing as they will be here for so long. Also, please refer to me as Ms. Weems if you will." Larissa tried to be professional, in charge, and to not back down to him or his beliefs or opinions. She had to learn to be strong as a women, and she had come so far.

The man turned around and walked back inside the building to take off his sunglasses. As Larissa followed him, he turned and stared in her deep ocean blue eyes, captivating her with his powers so his next words cut extra deep. "I forbid you to spend the schools money and time on the stupid dreams of a pretentious Hitchcock pin-up shapeshifter woman. You will do your headmistress duties here at the school and forget about events outside of the school, or I will write you up, Larissa." Putting his sunglasses back on, he turns and leaves, slamming the outside door on the way to his car.

Larissa didn’t think she came off as pretentious, although she occasionally had to summon a sense of fake confidence. Maybe this is why him saying her dreams were stupid hit so hard that day. There were no students around, thank god. It was a Sunday, and she was tired.

Pt 2: The Woman

#larissa weems fanfic #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #principal weems x reader #wednesday netflix #larissa x oc #so gay omg #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse

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faterpresources · 11 months

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A ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴠɪsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs

A collection of random lines compiled from many visual novel games including Fate/Stay Night, Danganronpa series, Code : Realize , Paranormasight, Somnium Files and many others. Feel free to change the pronouns in order to better suit the parts involved. Warning: some crude language

❝ Out of my way, plankton. ❞

❝ -- I want to punch him/her. ❞

❝ So whose ass do I need to kick!? ❞

❝ B stand for brute force! Ya like? ❞

❝ Shush. The adults are talking now. ❞

❝ I can’t say I need a cat right now. ❞

❝ Well, let’s just say sleep is overrated. ❞

❝ Watching a fire like this is greatly relaxing. ❞

❝ Oh, I’m just through a little… self-loathing. ❞

❝ I don’t think love has anything to do with it… ❞

❝ Tell me, where did your typical rudeness go to? ❞

❝ This is evil. I deserve to be hated and resented. ❞

❝ I’m shocked. Hypotheticals really do happen, huh? ❞

❝ Do you think I even care enough about you to rebel ? ❞

❝ O god of donuts! I’m praying for a wonderful encounter! ❞

❝ I think… I just got persuaded to do this without realizing it… ❞

❝ I’ve grown out of my brooding, pretentious teenager phase. ❞

❝ If you were a fictional character, I bet you’d have a lot of fans. ❞

❝ I’ve been teaching myself, though I’m not very good at it yet. ❞

❝ Loving someone you shouldn’t only brings about misfortune. ❞

❝ Damn. I’m gonna be having nightmares about this for a while. ❞

❝ It’s the lack of something between your ears that’s dangerous. ❞

❝ You’re being really loud… I know you’re doing that on purpose… ❞

❝ It was just his/her pants. Not like his/her socks or something… ❞

❝ Hey, please don’t insult my Sherlock Holmesian detective skills. ❞

❝ You sound pretty scared for something that matters little to you. ❞

❝ My only strong point is that I’m a little more gong-ho than others. ❞

❝ I only hugged you because you were standing right in front of me. ❞

❝ Hey! You weren’t thinking something bad about me just now, were you? ❞

❝ Dah! Come, now, you look like an abandoned puppy with a face like that! ❞

❝ If that was your last resort, I’d say you didn’t think this through very well…❞

❝This is the part where ya fall in love with me and obey my every command! ❞

❝ I know I am not the most intelligent person, but you really are just hopeless. ❞

❝ I’m like a magnet for all things strange. There’s nothing I can do about that. ❞

❝ No-one makes a compliment sound like an insult quite like you, my dear friend. ❞

❝ Just so you know, I’m saying this for your own good: your logic isn’t logical yet. ❞

❝ Fairytales mislead humans into believing they can have things they do not deserve. ❞

❝ As usual, you look like you’re carrying all the misery of the world on your shoulders. ❞

❝ Thing is, I might be a brat, but I’m not a kid. Okay, doesn’t make me an adult, either. ❞

❝ Maybe there’s something hidden under his/her bed. It’s a usual place for hiding things. ❞

❝ Well, I know you are unfortunately lacking in mental faculties, so I’ll fill you in myself.❞

❝ Aaah, he/she was so cute and innocent back then, how did he/she end up such a twisted kid? ❞

❝ Well then, let’s pretend this conversation never happened. For our mutual benefit, for once.❞

❝ A friendly word of warning – someday that attitude is going to come back and bite you. Hard. ❞

❝ Of course that was a joke. Duh! You don’t really think I’m some kind of evil spirit, do you? ❞

❝ I don’t need to go inside a haunted house to feel afraid since I already feel fear in my daily life! ❞

❝ You could have told me you were being attacked by Martians and I still would have believed you. ❞

❝ If you’re going to make another appearance, the least you can do is have some of a…villainous entrance, you know. ❞

❝ I never expected someone as good-looking and cool as you would get embarrassed about liking cute things. ❞

❝ Huh? … Sorry, I don’t remember. I guess it just seemed like something you would say, so I didn’t pay it any attention. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay ask meme #rp ask meme #ask meme #sentence starters #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #visual novel #original #danganronpa rp #fate rp #fate stay night rp #paranormasight rp

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swirlysmile · 2 years

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Hi! I usually don't go for angsty stuff but I read your one shot about the reader who ejects and I love it! And this came to my mind: hangman gets hurt, out of danger but the reader (who is a pilot too but they're not dating yet) spent a couple of hours worried until they told her what his state was and when she gets to his hospital bed and sees him starts crying because of the all worry she's been through and feeling relieved now, hangman wakes up and does some silly teasing about the fact that she's crying for him

your wish is my command, dear anon!

word count: 589

warnings; mentions of hospital, descriptions of wires, hangman still being pretentious after almost dying

Lil’ Old Me?

Logically, you know your job is dangerous. The planes can malfunction- pilots can too. Being faced with the realities of your job is much more shocking than being aware of them, though.

“Is he alright?” You say, running up to Mav’s side.

“Passed out in the hospital.”

“Goddammit.”

You’re hoping that Maverick knows

more than he’s letting on, but it’s not likely. If you had been told a few years ago, when you graduated the Top Gun program, that you’d be this worried about Hangman, you would have rolled your eyes and laughed. The team building exercises that Maverick had forced everyone to do helped, though.

Helped your opinions, helped your feelings, helped you learn to trust the people around you in the air. You always have to be cautious, you know that much, but maybe you’re a little too wary of your coworkers sometimes.

After asking around base though, you realize Maverick wasn’t lying. He doesn’t know anything more than anyone else, or you for that matter.

“You guys can go see him now,” Maverick says at the end of the day, and you let out a sigh of relief because he's okay, and also because the only other thing you’d been told was that he was out cold in the hospital.

“You look like hell dude,” Coyote stares, a mountain of treats in his arms.

“Never been better.” Jake says, sarcasm dripping off of his smile.

You almost cry.

The exit sign is looking very tempting right now, but Rooster holds you in place.

“Bagman.” Phoenix gives a mock salute.

“I feel like a Bagman.”

“You look like one too.” Payback says, getting a little high five from Fanboy.

Everyone awkwardly shuffles throughout the small hospital room, I mean seven pilots and one patient? That’s a lot of people in the room.

“We were worried, glad you’re okay.” Bob says, handing him a few cards. “I’m just the messenger.” He puts his hands up in surrender, praying that he won't get killed thanks to everyone’s potentially not so kind words.

Hangman isn’t exactly a fan favorite among the group.

“Yeah,” Rooster starts, giving him a look. He makes a gesture with his hands towards you. “This one wouldn’t stop asking for news about you.”

That makes your face heat up and you almost punch Bradley. Payback clears his throat, trying to take attention off of you and it mostly works. Fanboy starts talking and everyone shifts gears, turning to look at him, but Hangman just keeps staring at you.

It’s a little intimidating, and honestly gives you the chills.

You step out before Rooster can stop you.

Everyone files out, one by one, slowly but surely. You realize that’s your cue to slip into the room and spend some quality time with the man of the hour.

Without the crowd of pilots in the room, obscuring him from your vision, you see all the tubes, all the wires, and monitors hooked up to him. This time, you do cry.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart,” He says, and honestly it’s the softest you’ve ever heard Hangman sound. “Don’t cry,”

You go to flip him off, “You’re such a douchebag. I was worried, you know.”

“Over lil’ old me? I guess Rooster made that real clear.”

“God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” and you would have gone to hug him if he hadn’t been laying in a hospital bed at a very awkward angle.

“I’m pretty glad that I’m okay as well. Couldn’t have Rooster sliding into my spot, could I?”

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #swirly writes #swirly anon

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mangogemm · 10 months

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💌 Introduction...

I've always been terrible at introductions. Always wondering what should I say, is this too much? Too less? Hence I've never had bio/introduction on any social platform. But Tumblr is different. It's just been a week since i joined but I've never loved any platform so much. Tumblr feels like a safe home... where i don't have to think too much about what to say. The best part is everyone here is like that...and it's beautiful honestly. The raw, genuine, chaotic, honest side of people here is what I love. Okay enough bakbak now I'll start with the introduction...

So hello, I'm Ekta :)

I'm 21. मराठी मुलगी haha ❤️ A computer science graduate. I'm the eldest daughter 🌚

@mainsamayhoon is my little sister who has a twin brother. And I love these two little munchkins more than anything in my life. God has made up for all the shitty things in my life by sending them as my siblings.

Not just these two. I am so so blessed to have amazing people in my life who are just so dear to me I can't even begin to describe it in words. @maybeicebreaker being one of them. I love this girl so much. sister from another mother fr. Also I love her mom 😭 who basically treats me like her daughter. Then there's @imacrickthing who's my baby. One more light in my life. She's my niece who's just 5 years younger to me lol. (Indian families be weird like that) I'm technically her आत्या lol. But we're more like besties only. Also love her mom who's my second mom basically. My वहिनी. And just like these cuties i have many more cuties in my life who just make me so happy. Who make life worth living. And I'm beyond grateful to have them.

Here are some things that I love, cause Mother Taylor Swift said "you are what you love" -

As you must have guessed. Miss Taylor Swift.

Sunsets. 🌅

Music, Movies, Stories.. 💌 ( fav movie : Interstellar )

Food 🤌 specially आईच्या हातच. Big fan of पुरणपोळी.

This beautiful beautiful universe.

Some random facts about me -

I'm an introvert. But I love talking to people :) first meets are usually super awkward for me but when I get comfortable i won't shut up lol. Also, love listening to people. So if anyone wants to rant, vent, talk about random shit...feel free to text me ;)

I'm very very emotional. And honestly I love that about myself. Sure, I am sensitive and I get hurt easily...but i also get to experience all the good emotions on that same level. So chalta hai :)

A hopeless romantic all my life 🎶 haha. Won't be able to describe how much i LOVE love. It's the most beautiful thing to ever exist and it's such an honour we get to experience it. काफ़ी प्यारी चीज़ है प्यार।

I love comedy lol. I spend most of my time watching comedy. Some of my favourites are - Rahul subramanian, kanan gill, kenny Sebastian.

That's enough ig. That's me. Maybe I'll add more things in future. Let's see. For now that's all.

On this blog you'll just find random shit posts, me dumping my silly thoughts, sometimes posting something wise being pretentious, do-tin fukat ke advice, rona dhona...Blah blah. So make yourself at home if that's your kinda stuff 🥰

If you read all this, Thank you for your time :) I appreciate it cute human <3

#introductory post #this is me #nice to meet ya

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youthofpandas · 8 months

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i already know about it but ill ask if you wanna talk abt it so bad SMH (I ALSO WANNA TALK ABOUT IT)

FIIINE if im FORCED to talk about it i guess ill see what I can do

for the everyone who doesn't know it already I have this liiiiittle project that has been killlingggg me known as the dead demian au which is like a Came Back Wrong sorta thing. Every other week I revise the level of Weirdness I want it to be and feel compelled to completely redo the actual plot events but that's not important what is important is the stuff that's sticking around. under the cut because this is like so long because I care too much about them.

Demian has died and with him so has all of Sinclair's will to live. He loses an unknown amount of time to a depressive state and only after a very odd dream that is so weird and real that even Sinclair is forced to realize there was something unnatural about it does he start to get back to being alive if only barely. and not long after this Demian is back ! Just like Sinclair has been able to claw his way out of the grave that was his lil mental breakdown era it appears that Demian has been able to do the same, quite literally

and oh how easy would it be to give in and pretend like nothing is wrong, maybe everything in these months including the death were all a dream or delusion and nothing bad every happened to begin with ! but of course he can't actually do that. can he even be sure that this thing is his friend who he loved (and dear god had he barely begun to accept how much the unspoken love between them Fucked Him Up in his grief how can he not let that regret weigh him down) because if it Isn't him then what is this thing? and god if it gives him Demian back does he care if it's wrong?

anyways things happen which include but are not limited to A LOT of weird Emil dreams centered around wellll uuuh let's say it's safe to assume they're about death and corpses and being in love with your best friend, the epic return of Demian's "let's kill this guy <3!" suggestions, the incredibly rare instance of me bothering to include Kromer in one of my fics, tons of truly great Sinclair insane logic to justify his really stupid actions, a lot of weird pretentious Demian rants about the meaning of life and free will and the nature of love, and the best part. lots and lots of truly insane Demian characterization I get to make that I don't get to do in most of my other things becaaaause (drum roll)

this fic and au is just a really elaborate exploration of all of my favorite little non human Demian moments. like sorry who is up thinking about his weird little self wanting to be human because he Loves them and loves to understand them and the first time he really feels like he's really managing to forget that he's something inhuman is with Sinclair and his complete adoration of him because it stems from such obviously human emotions. the love is there. the love was always there. you know? anyways he is my star (semi literal).... and dear god is he so lonely. he is so so lonely, my star in the sky who is waiting for someone on earth to love him so much maybe he can pretend to be human for a while. Frau Eva's story about the star who went back to space after the human who loved her could not make the leap of faith and Sinclair being made to decide if Demian, who helped him discover the truth of humanity, not being human is something that he cares about or if he'll be too scared to commit. the STARS !

And then there's the other inspo of course you know her you love her it's the little prince abno! Yay!! the simplest way to explain this part of it is like okaaaay let's rot together ^^ become one in body and soul and the #symbolism of the way Sinclair views himself as an extension of Demian more than as his own person sometimes (and esp in the aftermath of the not quite a death) and yet Demian wants nothing like that because Demian loves Sinclair for everything unique about him that makes him stand as his own person. Aaand yeah I think I covered everything important. Oh also despite what this paragraph would have you believe it's way more of a book fic than a game one personality wise, this is like modern setting none of the other game characters exist in this world it's just my guys

anyways I've written like TWO scenes in this AU that I actually like and it will never be truly 'written' so it will simply exist in my head forever but I do at least loooove the one where Emil's in his depression coma like that is early writing I still am in love with. i should probably actually try writing something for it soon but sadly it is impossible.... i think of them and go too crazy when it comes to this one

in conclusion the dead demian au has made me worse in so many ways and I've barely even gotten any good writing out of it making it the bane of my existence. I hate this thing and it is also my favorite child.

#kris answers #... not going to think about this showing up in search results #ill just delete this thing at the end of the day its fine

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caluski · 11 months

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Few days ago @ikonofilizm tagged me to do the "put music player on shuffle and list 10 first songs" thing Thank You my dear I loooooove doing this shit 😁😁😁 let's get to it

1. Lucky to get him by Aly and AJ - revisited this album recently, it's really nice and chill, I like the direction they're going in now as adults. I was never really into Americana, but maybe theyve kinda changed that with this release.

2. Another life by Jadu Heart - god, this was the first song I've ever heard of them, such a throwback!!! I remember walking thru the city at night time, walking back from a party I think? Alcohol leaving my body and I just stared at the starry sky. An unbelievably beautiful track. Since then the duo became one of my favorite bands atm.... Please give them a chance, especially their last EP.

3. Liquid air by Temples - one of my favorite tracks from their new album. Talked about them more than a healthy amount of times recently; really good neopsychedelia if you're into that stuff, a 10/10 album for hot summer days.

4. DYNA by PEEL - some more neopsychedelia! It's been a while since I listened to it, but I used to have it on repeat so much.

5. HAUNTED by Isabel LaRosa - ugh, i remember when it came out and I discovered it in like one of those spotify playlists. It had like a thousand plays maybe!!! And I loved it so much, I added it to my midground playlist and had it really high up on my wrapped for that year, and then I checked back a few months ago and it became like a tiktok sound or something with like a billion plays :((((( I guess good for her but mannn my pretentious soul was hurting LOL

6. Assumptions by Sam Gellaitry - some house...ish dance track, i guess. It's fun and I like that vibe of sort of city pop it has going on, but the fucking high pitched sound at the start is the WORST. So fucking annoying. Every time it comes on, even though I actually like the song, the noise just pisses me off and I cant help but skip it!!!! Who thought it was a good idea to START with what sounds like fucking tinnitus.

7. Upside down by Sacha Rudy - ohhhh throwback... I used to love every single track this guy would put out since like 2019. And then he released that EP last year and other than "upside down" I really just couldn't get into it. Felt like a mess. And now he's disappeared since! Can't help but hope he'll come back with something as good as "be a man", because that was my most listened to track that year. So good.

8. Lamb's wool by Foster the People - HEY that's my song!!!!! Oh no wonder it's coming up on shuffle when I've listened to it so much again this past few weeks. This time it's the original and not the Poolside version. One of my all time favorites, like, ever, and if you can only listen to one of the songs I've listed, please make it this one. Who DOESN'T love tracks about how terrifying death is??? I'll hold you so you're not alone 🤓

9. Blessed by August Charles - people who listened to my dinner party/cafe playlist probably heard this one. Ugh it makes me so melancholic. Really good tho. No wonder it's his most listened to track.... I should probably check out his other works bc I really like his voice.

10. Theme of Re:Served by Re:Served - instrumental track with So Few listens that it doesn't even have the count visible on spotify! I remember being obsessed with them back in 2016, when the way I would discover new music was by downloading random japanese experimental albums from my favorite site. This is honestly just like runway music. I love runway music with good bpm. This one is good. You should listen to it and become their third monthly listener with me.

Thank youuuuuuuuu for tagging me!!!!!! Sorry its so long tho!!!! I love talking about songs I love!!!!! Tagging back: @moldavite , @slavicafire (i know u never do these but hope dies last!), @ferdydurke , @jurajurica , @kotikonnut , @skrzynka , @nocylipcowa , and everyone else who listened to at least one of the songs 😁😁😁 let's have a lovely Sunday afternoon everyone mwah

#pogaduchy

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queerchoicesblog · 2 years

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A Star Is Born (Chapter 1, TSHOEH)

So, folks, this is the very beginning of my Celia St. James POV TSHOEH fanfiction series. This is pretty much of an introduction so, if you like this, stay tuned for chapter 2: the rehearsals of Little Women are on their way and so is the encounter that will change Celia’s life. I don’t have to spell it out, right? 😉

Hope you guys enjoy it and, if you do, consider reblogging it: a little gesture, a huge help to spread the word!

AO3 Link

I don’t think I will ever forget the day I got a call from the Sunset Studios for the new Ariel ‘s movie.

One morning in May I was unpacking boxes in my new place, a nice apartment in a rather fancy but not too pretentious neighborhood of Los Angeles, when Viola, my help, announced me I had a producer of Sunset holding the line for me.

I mean, I was kinda expecting this to happen.

Everyone had been so impressed by my performance in Winds of War, a tear-jerking war-period drama, earlier that year: I didn’t get an accolade nor a nomination for it but the audience and the folks in the industry went wild for me. A review signed by an influential critic recited: “Who knew a teen girl could not only look plausible in the role of a courageous widow and mother but also nail the depth of it? Well, Celia St. James did it and effortlessly, stealing the scene to seasoned professionals. So, remember this name, folks, because I have a feeling it won’t fade away anytime soon: a star is born”. I still cherish a copy of it.

I would be lying if I say I wasn’t on cloud nine for my success: my heart suddenly filled with an ambition so far unknown to me. I did it at last, this was my ticket to the top, I felt it with every fiber of my being and it went all back to me: I had practiced hard with my scout, I had studied the Method and fought with my family to be an actress. I had left my life in Georgia behind for this. I jumped on a plane to Los Angeles and never looked back, no regrets, because I knew this was the life for me, no matter if I succeeded or not: I just had to try. I wanted so badly to send a copy of the magazine officialising my triumph to my parents and sisters but I refrained. They didn’t notice nor care or maybe they simply ignore it as a piece of irrelevant news involving their very disappointing daughter; only my brother Robert called briefly to congratulate.

So, I must confess that the call from the Sunset Studios didn’t exactly surprise me. If anything, it flattered me because it meant that studios were truly engaging in a bidding war for me now: if the audience love you, if critics love you, you’re a golden goose and everybody wants you. Apparently, the rampant Sunset Studios prevailed and I was about to go freelance.

I took a deep breath before picking up the phone.

“Hallo?”.

“Hi, Celia! It’s Harry Cameron, exec of Sunset Studios here. Do you have a moment for me?”.

I had seen him around town, in the hotspots where celebrities gathered. He was young but God knows if he wasn’t making a name in Hollywood. Not even thirty and already a mogul: that guy had blood and ambition flowing in his veins. So, he was the guy I needed.

“Sure, Harry. Can I call you so?”.

“You can call me however you like: you’re a rising star, Celia”.

He had read the review, I thought, and I smiled against the phone.

“First of all, let me tell you one thing” he continued. “How dare you make me cry a river in the dark of a theater? I have a reputation, you know”.

“Well, I don’t think I’m truly sorry about it, Harry, because I doubt you are calling me just to blame me for making you cry” I said, summoning all my confidence. “Am I wrong?”.

He laughed on the other side.

“I like your attitude, Celia. Scratch it, I love it and I adore you!”

That man could charm anyone, I smiled to myself.

“Well, dear Celia, I was wondering…could you do it again?”.

“Do what?”.

“Be your memorable self and make the whole world cry with just one look”.

He took a dramatic pause, which I wagered was calculated from the very start.

“But for us this time. In Little Women”.

I had heard of this project, it was the rumor of the town: the new picture of Ari Sullivan was bound to be a guarantee hit at the box office. I mean, nobody can never know for sure but with all the buzz around it even before the beginning of the shootings it was pretty clear that it would have been a big thing. And I had to be a part of it.

“Little Women, huh? Well, why not?” I pretended to act nonchalant: never make them understand how much you really want it.

“Tell me yes, Celia, then? And stop by at my office tomorrow…let’s say 11.30 am?”.

——————————-

Of course I went meeting him: I wasn’t stupid, I knew we have to seize the moment before it’s too late. Carpe diem, right?

Harry greeted me with a dashing smile and a firm handshake, guiding me into his office where Ari Sullivan was waiting for us. I had heard rumors about him, the lascivious kind of rumors, and by the way he looked at me, better stared at my chest and legs as I shifted and crossed them told me each one of it was true. I swallowed down the sour disgust I felt for that man.

Predictably, Harry did all the talking: he had always had charming ways that suited the industry marvelously. He joked, flattered and explained everything in great detail.

They wanted to cast me for Beth. I’d suspected that it was the role they would offer me: it made sense after my tearjerker role in the war drama but I had secret hopes of my own. I knew they had plenty of Sunset Studio actresses to appear in their movies by contract, audience heroines like Ruby Reilly and Joy Nathan. I knew all of this but I was hoping to have been at least considered for the role of Jo: I loved her and well, I wanted to play the same role my idol Katherine Hepburn once starred in.

It was clear, though, that the thought of giving me that part never crossed their minds as soon as they dropped the name of the lucky leading pick: Evelyn Hugo. What a fool I had been to think I could stand a chance against her! I mean, I had seen a few movies of her and in my opinion, just like Ruby and Joy, she wasn’t that good but she was the wife of Don Adler and everyone loved her. Well, the last part didn’t seem hard to get and subscribe to: maybe Evelyn lacked a little finesse in her acting skills but she was born for the camera. She was the most beautiful woman I - and surely the world too - had ever seen with her unique odd beauty, a mix of exotic and quintessentially American. Her sultry smile was a promise of Heaven. In addition to that, she had won the Audience Appreciation for Best Rising Star last year. She was on top of the world.

Of course, they would cast her for Jo. So, I put on my best professional smile and graciously accepted my defeat against a diva yet out of my league. We must pick our battles and I knew all too well that I couldn’t win against such a gorgeous Goliath.

“I’ll be your Beth, Harry, Mr. Sullivan. I can’t wait to get started”.

Harry smiled at me, falling back on his chair.

“That’s the spirit, Celia! We’re incredibly happy to have you on board, huh, Ari?”.

He simply nodded, lightening up a cigar. I hated the smell of cigar so I decided to focus on Harry’s enthusiastic speech to help me deal with it.

“With Ruby, Joy, Evelyn and now rising star Celia St. James we have a dream team at our arrow, I’d say” he was saying.

“Hope I will fit in” I commented, shy.

Harry looked at me for a moment then leaned closer over his desk.

“You will, Celia. Don’t worry about that”.

And he winked at me, as if we were old pals.

#the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #tshoeh #tshoeh fanfics #celia st james #harry cameron #wlw books

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transsexualhamlet · 1 year

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Hi :)) for the fics ask - 💌📡🍭🎈🎀🍉🦋

OMG THATS SO MANY???? i love you anon

ask game

putting a readmore because um. so many questions

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

SHAKES AND WHIMPERS finally someone asks me about my wips............. oh dear oh dear oh dear. Trembling wet and pathetic awkwardly holds out 25 pages of handwritten Mairon apologism covered in blood sweat tears . This is one of those ones that I'm terrified I'm going to be dogpiled over in the fandom because. Silmarillion fandom. Intimidating. This is the first time I've read the book and these bitches are veritable scholars in Arda history and languages. Like they have damn phds. doctarates. I'm just like hi I think he did nothing wrong ever except for all the atrocities and the atrocities were fine because it's international womens day and hes like a woman to me.

Anyway I should. Actually explain them i just I have two things going on one of them is just. Six pages of independent ramblings written all at once fueled by "I just woke up with the sickest ass line of dialogue ever conceived and I need to bring it to justice Right Fucking Now" and the other is what will probably end up being a chapter fic with six or seven chapters though I haven't. Decided what point I'll end it at. I'm two chapters deep and I have tons of motivation rn so hopefully. Things will continue that way because god have I been known to abandon works of that length. (looks at the bond fic) (looks at osamu dazai is dead) (looks a-)

The first mentioned one is well. I think it's just such a funny quirky girl trait of his to have not only founded a human sacrifice death cult but to have gotten it sugar daddy funded by batting his eyelashes at the king of Numenor it's just. Truly wonderful situation and I feel it is not spoken of nearly enough. The basic concept of that snippet is "pov ur defeated enemy/prisoner/mistress/royal advisor's bedroom talk involves apocalyptic sermons dooming you to eternal suffering if you don't worship his dead ex".

The other one is pretty self explanatory and has probably been done a million times, just my take on the untold hashtag "Seduction of Sauron". Basically several chapters of Melkor convincing Mairon to seize the means of production this one is very well. It's not very favorable to the methods and ideas of Eru it is decidedly anti-Eru

📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

I mean that's like, half of what fandom is. It's sharing words (both fanfic and headcanons/shitposts/analysis/incorrect quotes etc) and images (art/memes/edits/screencaps etc). We wouldn't really fandom without it.

🍭why did you start writing?

It's really just how my brain works? I can communicate so much better written than out loud. I've literally been writing since before I can remember. Both my parents are writers and my parents tell me I narrated stories out loud to myself at night before I knew how to write on paper. I just. I really liked saying things and telling stories and once I started I pretty much never stopped though of course the writing I did as a first grader was not the same kind that I do now.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I mean, as a fanfic writer I always try to make my writing fit the mood of its source material, so there is definitely a lot of variation between say, my lotr fics and my owari no seraph fics. But I know that I do have many qualities of my writing that are recognizable throughout pretty much everything I do. I have a rather pretentious style, and I focus significantly on body language, exaggerated emotion, flowery metaphors, and internal dialogue. But my humorous work does sound pretty different, though I mostly don't do that unless it's for a general audience who I feel insecure being flowery and sincere around.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Aww, ok. I mean I think the best thing about my writing is that it fits my personal tastes perfectly. I write 99 percent for myself and the other 1 percent for the six people on the internet who will froth at the mouth over it. I write mostly to articulate and cement my Strong Feelings About Concepts And Ideas and writing them helps me literally understand how I feel about things and what it really is I'm trying to get at. It's an added bonus that other people also like it :)

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

I can't really say I'm a super trauma-ridden individual, though I guess I've had my moments. Mainly writing does for me what I said above. I turn to it to have peace of mind and delve into the concepts that thrill and move me. When I feel overwhelmed and empty and unsatisfied and confused I know it's because I haven't written recently. Maybe thats the autism

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

There's always just the general anxiety that it will be seen by the general fandom as uncalled for and cringe. I'm always worried I will be seen as a Fake Intellectual for my pretentious style and often limited knowledge on the source material and I'm worried especially when I enter a new fandom that I'll just be completely off and get 80 billion things wrong. The more I interact with, know about and post for a fandom, the less anxious I get because it's been established people like it and aren't gonna kill me.

#rowan gets yelled at #anon #ask game #yeah i really went off on this one lmao

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