btw I’ve found these stretches from the WAK blog very helpful when knitting a lot:
Plus make sure to take breaks regularly - and stop if anything starts to hurt!
especially with gift knitting I know it can be tempting to push through it for a deadline, but it’s really not worth causing long term injury. (And anyone knit-worthy should be understanding of that, imho.) Stay well :)
Drawing inspired by the fic of @aliesafenlock "Her Heart is Fit for Home"!!
I love this fic so much and who doesn't need a bit of Susan!Danny in their life? And here's a close up because I'm kinda proud of their expressions:
The snippet that got me:
“Do you dance, Mrs. Danvers?”
Her reverie broken, the housekeeper scoffed at the unexpected question. “Who would want to dance with a withered-up old woman like me?”
“First of all, you are neither old nor withered,” Mrs. de Winter countered. “And secondly, I would! Very much,” she added with a smile.
“Madam.” Mrs. Danvers was taken aback. “Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time.”
“If my memory serves, I did not get to dance at the ball,” the young woman pointed out reasonably, “so you owe me at least one dance, Mrs. Danvers.”
I can't be seriously considering this, the housekeeper thought as she prepared a polite refusal, but her voice caught in her throat as she took in Mrs. de Winter looking at her expectantly. Her eyes were sparkling with hope, her hand extended in a silent invitation, and Mrs. Danvers felt her resolve evaporate. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Mrs. de Winter today as she had done in the past.
“All right then,” she allowed softly. “Perhaps just this once.”
Mrs. Danvers took the young woman’s outstretched hand with some trepidation, expecting it to feel awkward and ungainly. She became acutely aware of how comfortably their bodies fit together as her free hand rested on Mrs. de Winter’s waist. Mrs. Danvers led instinctively and was relieved to find she still knew her way around a slow dance. Her initial reluctance gave way to a quiet joy as she watched her companion’s eyes gleam with delight. With every step they held each other a little closer, and the housekeeper began feeling light-headed.
The record wound down and their movements slowed, then finally stopped. They stood quietly in a gentle embrace, neither of them willing to break the spell and lose their closeness. In the silence, the air between them became charged with expectation. Mrs. de Winter lifted her eyes to study her companion’s face, finding it transformed from its rigid, severe beauty to looking achingly vulnerable. The young woman was suddenly overcome with a wave of affection so intense, she had to reach out and place her palm against Mrs. Danvers’ cheek.
A little life update since I've become pretty inactive. even though i havent send a dm to anyone, i'm still thinking about a lot of the people i met here. and i hope some of you do too.
A lot has changed since becoming a mom for the second time. (hard to know how much of your personal life is okay to share online but being a mother is such a big part of who I am now, so it wouldn't feel right not to mention it.)
Life has changed in many ways. There has been a lot of reflection, a lot of personal growth, and a lot of facing things I never even realized I had been carrying for so long. Old trauma, burnout, depression, anxiety... all of it became impossible to ignore.
Before having children, there was a long period of self-isolation. Becoming a parent slowly changed the way I looked at life and after my second child joy found its way back to me.
People often say that having children leaves you with less time (and that's true in many ways) but somehow, life has become so much fuller because of them. It feels strange to say, but they helped me find a version of myself that I thought I'd lost.
Somewhere I lost myself. Now, after becoming a mother, it feels like I'm finally learning who I am. I'm trying to live more quietly, more intentionally. It's not always easy, especially without a big support system.There are still struggles with the people around us, and both my husband and I come from families where generational trauma has left its mark. Healing those patterns isn't simple, and sometimes it affects our relationship and that with our family as well.
Recently, I went back and looked through a lot of my old stories. At one point, I almost deleted everything from AO3 (just like I deleted my old account on another fanfiction site years ago or any othe rsocial media exept tumblr.) But in the end, I couldn't do it.
Maybe one day I'll start over with something new. A lot of those older stories make me cringe now, and some are difficult to read. Like why did i write some storys? Well sometimes for comfort, because i needed something that saves me. If you know what i mean.they also carry memories and the kind comments people left over the years still make me smile.
Looking back, I realized that many of those fanfictions were my way of processing trauma, even if I didn't understand that at the time. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Reading them now feels strange .... not because I hate them, but because I can finally see that my way of thinking has changed. And for the first time in a long while, that change feels like a step in the right direction.
For now, life is a little bit quieter. sill having a few problems, and i know i cant solve all of them, have to learn to accept things even more.
By the way i'm teaching myself how to knit. Thats my current obsession. taking things one step at a time, and maybe someday, there will be new stories to share again or something else
Until then, stay safe out there and take good care of yourselves.
Because it's a massive East Coast city but the property values are probably like $200 a month for a three bedroom apartment, and most Gothamites are like, "Hey, Bane never swore to break my back."
And here's the thing: you're not just moving out of Gotham City. You're moving into the rest of the DC universe. And it has hero-based power scaling.
Oh, Metropolis looks fucking great. But it gets invaded by aliens and robots and demigods, because Superman is there.
Wonder Woman's tangling with gods.
You go to Central City, and some Reverse-Flash motherfucker runs backwards from an alternate future and kicks your balls off at the speed of light.
You could move to the West Coast, and oh, an entire city just gets exploded by Cyborg Superman or some shit.
How about you move to Indianapolis, or Cleveland? Haha, no. They have no protector during the alien invasions, and you're in Cleveland
So stay in Gotham. Sure, you have lunatics, but you know that if you had a gun, you at least have a chance against the Joker or Riddler. Mongo of War-World would crush you. But Gotham just has creeps, and you know you have a chance. Even Bane, R'as Al-Ghul, Killer Croc, and Mr. Freeze are just slightly altered dudes. Oh no, Poison Ivy is going to kiss me to death! Who gives a shit, you kinda wanted to go out that way anyway.
There are super-intelligent telepathic gorilla warlords in Africa and the Greek titans are real and chained in the abyss
This does beg the question of why Gotham has such a horrible in-universe reputation when all its villains are relatively human compared to the cosmic bullshit that most other heroes put up with.
I think it's all about perception. Gotham City has crime. But when Ares sends his undying legions to march upon the mortal realm and Wonder Woman has to punch all of them, people don't internalize that as "crime." That's "a crisis" or "a religious event" or at best, terrorism. Same thing when Superman has to stop Brainiac from shrinking Metropolis or whatever. That stuff is objectively more dangerous but it's on such a huge scale that "crime" is not the word for it. The cops don't involve themselves in this at any point.
But the stuff Batman deals with is like, robberies, assaults, gang wars, serial killings. All his villains commit actual crimes, so they go into police reports, which end up as statistics. So when someone compiles all this data, oh look, Gotham City has the highest crime rate in the country, yet again. Forget the fact that 10% of Keystone City's population had their skulls crushed by invading superintelligent gorillas. Who cares that a random guy in Opal City accidentally teleported the entire state to Hell after he found out the hard way that he was born a wizard. Those are not crimes. There's nothing in the police recordkeeping app's drop-down menu for a Gorilla invasion. Closest thing we've got is Random Chimp Event.
So my theory is that while Gotham does have a lot of crime, what it does not have is space catastrophes. And so it ends up being the most dangerous city based on a bureaucratic technicality.
all this is very true, I just wanted to point out that the worst thing about metropolis isn't the alien invasions, killer robots or meta human fights breaking buildings, it's the power hungry scheming ego maniac billionaire who gets enough of a pass from the population, despite the several journalistic exposes about him, that he's been able to run for president and win
at least gotham's billionaire is funny in the tabloids and, even if he's rather ditzy, he seems to be helpful to legit causes, against all odds
Please tell me if you want to be removed from the tag list at anytime, since ik some of you may not like the content I write. And I want to be up front.
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Prologue: Train Station Massacre
Story masterlist
Warnings: Murder, death of both adults and children (non/slightly descriptive for the children), blood, implied self-harm (biting hands), near panic attack, heavy guilt, slight religious themes, violence, P is not here (yet)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/ BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.
MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS (NO POSTS, BIOS DO NOT COUNT) DNI
A rewrite of this series that is gonna be a different Au, KIND OF, because it's my child.
It's been *checks calendar* half a year-ish since I last wrote something, so I'm rusty. Plz be nice until like, 3-4 moths from now
૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა
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"N-no! Stay away - STAY AWAY -"
CRACK! SPLATTER!
Breathing heavily into your hands, freezing rain feels like bullets against your fleshy form, eyes widening and body shaking at the sound of a person's head being smashed against bricks. A metallic taste drowns your taste buds, the stinging of your tongue goes unnoticed - instead, all you can focus on is controlling your frantic breaths. Or at least attempt to, wincing as another "thud" reaches your ears. It's not as violent as the others, either the puppet weak or merciful.
Your cackle is hushed, heaving at the thought.
As idiotic as it was, you can't rule it out -
After all, you were spared by one hours ago, and you still don't know why.
You're close to foaming at the mouth, every nerve on high alert - your survival instincts are held back by the raw panic filling your being. Your breathing is harsh, fast, fingers trembling, holding back sobs and screams. Lightheaded, it's hard to think, hard to stay in place, legs begging to run, run, run, run.
You inhale sharply, the air freezing and rain painful. Your drenched, crouched form is starting to go numb - how much longer can you hold out? How much longer until your body gives out, fatigue finally getting to you?
Hiding behind several suitcases, your prayers for the murders and violence to stop go unheard. Maybe even ignored - you honestly can't tell, especially when a woman's high pitched screams accompany the pitter-patter of the rain, only for her to be silenced by the metal attackers. But you can't say they're unfeeling. Not when their bright, red gaze is filled with rage, determination, confusion, maybe even regret -
You shake your head.
That puppet only spared you by coincidence. Or boredom. Or maybe it saw you less of a threat than even that of a child - weak, submissive, cowardly despite the role you played, despite the fact you are partially at fault for everything.
A failure of a both a mechanic and a human.
Their limbs creak as they move, some without heads - they were knocked off in the physical conflict, if it could even be called that; humans never stood a chance against your uncle's inventions. Inventions that you helped create - things that went astray, The Grand Covenant Rules overwritten by something, a glitch in the system. Rules that you helped created, helped implemented are now useless, forgotten and ignored.
Their groans are painful to hear - that sound wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.
"H-hic - please, please stop-!"
A man's cry was harshly interrupted as a servant puppet bashes his head in with a candle stick. Your eyes squeeze shut, a natural response - no, a cowardly one. Despite being part of the reason this chaos is happening, you can't force yourself to look at the bloodshed around you. All you do is hold your breath, and pray.
Pray that you'll be left alone. Pray that they won't notice you. Pray that this was all a dream, delusional in your hopes that you'll wake up in a cold sweat, or maybe even travel back to the past, hopefully before your uncle gave his friend the damned blueprints.
You should have torn it to shreds, as many times as needed. Every copy should have been set on fire. Instead, you watched with an uneasy gaze - not giving a fight despite your worries. Despite the risks, you held your tongue.
You continue to pray.
But do you deserve mercy?
However, there was one thing you kept wondering - where did your uncle hide his favorite puppet?
"…." muffled harsh breaths slip past your lips and into your palms, bitten and sore, worn, stained with blood - the phantom feeling of a child's lifeless body presses against them. The memory of his final breaths, last words begging you to tell his parents that he was sorry play on repeat in your head. Like a song that's purposely replayed on a music box late at night, soothing music used to lure babies to sleep. But now those babies are either dead or missing, fates tragic or unknown, their parents' corpses laid about the streets of Krat like decorations.
You remember covering his cold, stiff body with your coat. Using coins to shut his eyes. Making a promise you can't keep. The way the puppet watched with curious eyes, but it wasn't responsible - no, the one that was, was rowdy, unstable, electric. The boy had barely managed to crawl away, to you as you stopped, already at death's door.
You almost sob - it's forced down your throat at the sound of heavy footsteps.
They get closer, closer, closer -
Your scream echoes throughout the puppet invested streets.
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A/N: came back with a rewrite of my lop fic. HIRATFLSIL is currently being edited, forgot what chapter tho. Also working on my oc story for twtptflob, and my original story that's about a girl and a k-pop star (it's not in the direction you're probably thinking about). Both will have heavy themes. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!
I'll make a new tag list later, but for now, here's the one from chapter 4 of the older fic
izzy806
gummygunk
romaincrisis
kianamaiart
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
