Why did I read ahead in Marked.
Why did I read ahead in Marked.
Why did I read ahead in Marked.
Why did I read ahead in Marked.
Showing posts tagged why
“Were you sleeping?” she asked him, her voice so soft he nearly missed the question over the sound of the wind passing through the field.
He blinked rapidly for a moment, still feeling tears in his eyes but knowing that they weren’t really there. Relief washed over him as he accepted that the he was awake. It had been quite the ending to a horrible nightmare; knowing that his body was broken, this time irreversibly, and that he’d failed to save her, this time for good.
“Where is Barsad?” He recalled seeing the man just as he’d begun to wake up.
“He’ll be here soon,” she reassured him.
Bane didn’t bother sitting up to check his surroundings. He was content watching her eyes glow with youth again.
He was glad the dream was over.
When he smiled at her, and his lips stretched and his cheeks rose and his face moved, it didn’t hurt. And there was no pain reflected in her eyes, only genuine happiness returned through a smile of her own.
(Inspiration: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFPVF9J9Wmo)
Tom loves the puppy and the puppy loves Tom. ♥
PUPPY LOVE.
I AM GOING TO EXPLODE.
JUST ASK GIRLFRIEND… SHE WAS HERE FOR THE NOISES.
Bane and puppy. Not such a scary guy after all :’)
(source, originally from imgur)
Bane. Bane no. The sewer is no place for a puppy. Barsad isn’t going to walk him for you, he’s too busy getting shit done.
I actually just legit hurt my nose when my hand slapped onto my face to muffle the inhuman sound emanating from my mouth.
It hurts.
I am having UGLY FEELS and it needs to stop.
I don’t even know how many of my followers know “The Death Gate Cycle” book series by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (published from 1990-1994, but I didn’t read them until a couple of years ago)… but I was just hanging out in my room last night, after proofing GF’s fic chapter and writing a drabble and such for TDKR like usual… and I happened to glance up on my bookshelf, spotting the series just sitting there, innocuously.
Now. Being GF’s GF as I am, I am prone to random ideas for fics, whether they be crack or full of serious… and sometimes they hit me hard, like I can see so much of it playing out that it’s like watching a movie in my head but in like 0.05 seconds, you know?…
Well, spotting those books… I had a 0.05-second movie in my head wherein the world and characters of TDKR were crossed with those of The Death Gate Cycle… The Patryns were a perfect platform on which to interpose the League of Shadows, and Ra’s would fit Xar all too well in many respects… and then that would make Haplo Bane, and then my heart hated me so it told me Marit would be Talia for so many reasons and that hurt… and I don’t even know who Barsad would be, or John, or Bruce (probably someone like Samah or someone equally opposed to Ra’s, I guess), but the Patryns gave me so many feels while reading the books… this series wrecked me… and so does the League… and… and…
I freaked out on Girlfriend already, so I had to type out my feels somewhere else and I’m sorry if this doesn’t make one lick of sense… But if you haven’t read the books and you’re into fantasy novels where there’s literally an alternate universe / another version of existence going on / futuristic fallout and other worlds, then I strongly suggest you read all 7 books. They’re beautiful. They’re fascinating. And they’re fucking amazing.
And feelsy. I think I threw one or two of them several times because I was mad at them. I also raged at GF a lot because she’d read them before.
TL;DR:
I got random but powerful crossover-fic feels, and they were ugly, ugly things. I could never write this story, but it’s going to haunt my head for a while, I can just tell.
New Iron Man 3 Trailer
Can’t wait for this :D
WHY IS IT NOT MAY YET?
THIS IS A LEGITIMATE COMPLAINT, HERE. :|
Send me a nightmare
You wake from an unusually peaceful to darkness loose, but there is a sense for foreboding in the air that quickly draws you from slumber. Your Beretta is clenched tight in your hand, the firearm you need to hold each night between your fingers so that sleep can finally find you. You smell gunpowder in the air.
You cannot see.
The light from the outside of your window refuses to reach your eyes. You force your fingers to release your weapon and reach out for the familiar feel of your brother’s skin, his finger’s, anything, but you feel only cold. Something touches your fingers, cold, wet, sticky. You brush against cool skin.
You sit up, the room is chilly and the blankets soggy under you but still you cannot see even as the smell of blood starts to assault your nose. Rising panic bubbles in your belly as you scramble for a light switch, a lamp, for anything to tell you that the worse has not happened, that you have not slain the one you hold closest to your heart while your body dreamt on contently.
Your sticky fingers finally scrabble over a light switch and you freeze, caught in a moment of desperately needing to know the truth coupled with the terror of possibility. You flick the switch up and are blinded by the sudden flood of light assaulting your eyes.
You cannot see, but you awake to Bane’s hand over your mouth, pressing against you tightly enough that your teeth cut into your lips. Your body is pulled tight and tense like a bowstring until you open your eyes and see him above you, grey-blue eyes staring down and full of life.
Oh, fuck you very much, Girlfriend. Dear fucking Christ.
My heart. I can’t find it.
This shouldn’t have made me as hungry as it did just now.
Fuck everything, I want a fucking juicy, sloppy burger right now. Goddamnit.
(Source: p1kachu)
One of the best moments in the entire film. Oh Howard.
Can we just sit here and take a minute to examine Forrest and Howard’s dynamic?… Yes? Okay, good.
Forrest just sits there. He is relaxed, nonchalant, in his conversation with the police officers. He knows Howard is inside, knows he would have seen them approaching from the windows, and he would know that it takes a certain amount of time for Howard to get down there and out. While the camera shifts to the inside of the station as Howard makes his way out, giving the audience a view of his back as he goes and hearing his footsteps, it’s not entirely likely that Forrest hears his steps before he asks if the two men have “met Howard.”
It’s a threat, but it’s also an introduction that he knows full well will be completed once Howard comes out.
And Howard, well he just bursts out all action and like an attack dog freshly let off his leash. He’s fast enough and smart enough to hit first, even as they instinctively go for their guns, knowing they’re not going to just shoot him, and also knowing they’re afraid of him—rightfully so, because he can be a brutal, violent bastard (I say this with love).
With that… for the first part of Howard’s attack… Forrest just continues to sit there, sipping his tea / coffee / whathaveyou. His posture has not changed, nor his expression, nor is there any hurry in the lifting of his mug. This is partly because he wants the violent message sent, and partly because despite Howard being a bit on the crazy side in certain ways, Forrest knows what to expect when he lets him at someone.
It’s why he calmly stands, walking steadily over as he tells him “that’s enough, now”… He knows what he’ll do next, he knows how far he’ll go. But his voice, even as it gets more firm, remains calm.
Forrest is the rock of the two, and Howard the storm.
Still waiting for the day you read “The Wettest County in the World” and die from too many Lawless feels.
Uuuggghhh I haven’t picked it up yet. I keep meaning to. I’m going to die, alright.
I also forgot to mention another reason Forrest is so calm-voiced when he’s telling Howard to stop, even when he has to speak more firmly the last time with his, “Howard, that’s enough” as Howard starts the gas pump and nearly chokes the one officer.. is that Forrest knows Howard will listen to him.
Yeah, he’s “how he gets” when he’s been “on the stump whiskey for a few days”… but he’s still Forrest’s brother, and age-order-be-damned, Howard defers to Forrest. Forrest is in charge, and he knows that Howard will listen to what he says.
And, even though Howard’s the one throwing the punches this time, with all of Forrest’s power it’s clear that if Howard WEREN’T to listen, Forrest would make him. There isn’t ever a physical show-down between these two, no hits, no tussles, but it would be a very interesting fight, to be honest… Howard is fast, wily, and has the advantage of “kind of liking” getting hit, but Forrest is a powerhouse and a patient motherfucker as well as smart—he’d have a strategy, whereas Howard would likely just fling himself into the scuffle and hope for the best.
Ugh. I don’t need the book to nearly keel over from Lawless feels… what’s going to happen to me when I do read it!?
Can we just leave this here for you?:
“Forrest became a figure who passed silently through the doors at night, consuming food as if it was just something to get over with. As he aged Forrest retained the stringy, wan look of influenza, his skin even when burned by the sun seeming a slight shade of blue. His eyes remained sunken, his nose more knifelike, his thin, colorless hair already receding as a teenager. But his knotted muscles lengthed, his hands knobby steeples of bone and tendon with iron strength and unflagging endurance, his fists like post mallets. At work Forrest would hammer the tool into submission, bludgeon the task into defeat; he began at a young age to force the world to bend to his will.”
and can we also just:“By the time he was eighteen Forrest had proven himself a man not to be trifled with; the tomfoolery of youth was clearly spent, what lay ahead was only the grinding labor of adulthood and death. Forrest met both with narrowed eyes, knotted fists, and silence.”
I both love and hate you right now.
Goddamnit, I was DOING THINGS over here. I was DOING OTHER THINGS… and now all I can do is sit here and knot up inside over Forrest fucking Bondurant and everything that goes with him… ugh.
“Forrest met both with narrowed eyes, knotted fists, and silence.”
That… that is one hell of a line.
(Source: ash-house-wares)
For all your traumatic pick-up lines this valentine’s day: Cry harder
WHY WOULD YOU MAKE THESE?!
This is me more than I’m content with admitting.
What.
What.
What.
I can’t.
Sometimes I end up just sitting here at this here laptop…
…and asking myself…
…how the fuck…
…is Josh Stewart…
…so fucking beautiful?…
I don’t have the answer yet.
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Payback time.
