Chapter 2 Of State Of Broken Things Is Out!

A new chapter of The Gay Agenda comes out tomorrow!!

Here's a sneak preview!

"So, I found out a few weeks later through the normal gossip chains that the girl who my shopping cart had tried to murder a few weeks prior had transferred to my school. Apparently her family had moved here from the upper part of the States to California; specifically to my part of California.

Not that I owned a specific part of California, my bank account would laugh at me and jump off a cliff. I would also laugh at me and jump off a cliff. California was a pit of inconsistent weather (unless it was the dead of summer) and, in my area, conservative religious people who liked to hit you as hard as they can with their version of the Bible."

- Step Two: How to Make Friends With Pretty Girls Without Being Awkward

Sometimes writing is one continuous flow of words weaved together beautifully and other times it’s like frantically stitching together a bunch of mismatched fabric together to make a quilt 

How Did I Get So Lucky?

How did I get so lucky?

I ask myself this as I watch her over the waves of two computers, watch her fall asleep to the sound of my voice and my breathing and my presence. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful; never seen the human embodiment of a love song come to life before my eyes, even as she sleeps.

Pictures do her no justice; pictures never capture her soul. No – it’s too playful, too fleeting to want to be caught. Come and catch me, it sings, as her storm-across-the-waters eyes glitter at me through what can only do her half of the justice she deserves. I could stare at her image for hours, and yet still there are things I have yet to fall in love with, things I have yet to discover. Things a simple camera could not reveal to me, even if it tried.

I could wax poetic all day about her eyes, in fact I have, but this is something much bigger than just those eyes. My heart cries out with joy every time she looks my way, every time she says my name or says those three words (“I love you,”) that make me want to cry and sing and dance and scream from the roof that this is the person I have gotten.

When God knit me together in the womb, did he give me a piece of her and her a bit of me? When he had both of us in mind, did he tie our lives together, twine them through one anothers’ and set us free? Did he create her with bits of the heavens, color her eyes with the dusk sky, paint her lips with the cherubs’ song, give her smile the first mornings’ rays?

Did he borrow some of the devils’ wit, give her the tongue off a snake; smooth and delicate and oh, so intricate? He must have placed gold in her heart, given her laugh a thousand precious stones, sang her soul into being himself. The clay he shaped her body with was soft and immaculate, purposeful and gentle.

And yet, when I hold her, I cannot help but thing how perfectly my hand fits into hers, how easily our silence is, how tender and sweet her ministrations are to me. The voice she uses towards me is a thousand times more gentle than with anyone else, except maybe a puppy, and it makes my very being soar.

When she walks, all I see is grace; when she sings, all I can hear is the romantic crackle of an old record player; when she laughs, all that I hear is the joy of a thousand children; when she tells me she loves me, my heart weeps.

The pictures she takes of me are surreal - it’s almost as if she’s painted me into being with the very lense, focusing on the beautiful parts of me that I had never bothered to see before. To her, I do not only exist, I thrive.

To her, I am half her heart, I am all she sees, I am so much more than I ever thought I could be. How did someone as simple, as tainted, as broken as me get such a masterpiece as she?

As a child, I dreamed up princes that rescued me from towers and carried me off into the sunset; love that was instant and perfect and so, so unrealistic. In a way, I suppose, she did rescue me.

But it wasn’t from a tower, or from a terrible dragon, or another enemy my six year old mind conjured up. No, it was myself. When all I wanted to do was bleed, to make myself hurt, to drag my body through the mud so all it could do was feel again - she took my hand.

She was the one who pulled me from the rubble, who took all of me in - scraped knees, bleeding heart, teary eyes - brushed me off, and decided that she was going to love me. Decided she was going to stand beside me, to let this broken mess of a person lean on her and dirty her clothes and ask her for her heart.

While I went off and chased the men I decided were my princes, while I took parts of her and made her watch as I dug myself deeper and deeper into a hole, she stayed. She waited. This lovely, beautiful, saint of a woman watched, and waited, and listened.

I went off to figure myself out, only to come back to her and offer my heart, as battered as it was. I hadn’t expected her to take it; but she had smiled, pulled me to my feet, and instead offered me hers.

How did I get so lucky?

This woman, who was sculpted by Michelangelo, painted by Da Vinci, written by Shakespeare, composed by Beethoven, and breathed into by God himself - she loves me.

If she is the sun, then I am her moon; if she is the day, then I am the night; if she is the sea, then I am the sand; if she is the sky, then I am the clouds.

Never could I dream of overshadowing her, never could I hope to outshine her, never could I break her, never could I give her away, never could I think of another the way I think of her.

She is a masterpiece. Not even this could do her justice.

How did I get so lucky?

When I say “writers don’t want your unsolicited criticism” and “leaving unsolicited criticism on fanfiction hurts writers” THIS is what I mean.

This isn’t even all of them, this is just from a FEW posts on the subject. Read through these, and then look me in the eyes and say you’re ~helping writers~ by leaving that criticizing comment on someone’s fic when they didn’t ask you to.

You’re hurting or, at best, annoying us. You’re hurting fandom.

You’re not helping us.

Ahh you're so sweet ❤️ I have no idea if I'll continue it but if anyone else ever wanted to take a crack at it I would absolutely share my notes.

This is based off of the fic “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by @renywrites which had this cool idea of a rainbow world and a monochrome world! I tried drawing chibi and then I’m like screw it, and made them more animal crossing inspired instead.

Hello Tumblr…

So as of recent, we’re losing my grandmother. It’s been very hard for everyone, as she was an incredible woman. Kind, gracious, would give you everything she owned and then some if you needed it.

Her most prized possession was her house. Built in 1913. A living antique, full of her family history. If someone in the family doesn’t take the house, it will all be gone, sold off. So I’ve been tasked with taking the home.

Yeah! Free home! Except like…I’m from California. The home is in Arkansas. I don’t know Arkansas. I don’t have connections or know anyone. I’m starting from scratch and I don’t have a lot to my name right now. I am only 22 after all, and this has been thrust upon very suddenly. (For the record, I consented. My grandma means a lot to me.)

So while I hate asking this, here’s the situation, and here I be, asking for help. It leaves a bitter fucking taste in my mouth so if anyone wants any art or something as compensation, I’d be more than happy to oblige.

PayPal: notyaboku@gmail.com

Ko-Fi: Ko-fi.com/happyradio

Hey guys! I just want to say thank you so, so much for everything you guys have done for me. From the likes, to the reblogs, to the donations. You all contributed $70 in total and I cannot thank you enough. As much as people want to believe tumblr is a terrible place, all of you have shown me that there is such a thing as support and niceness in the world. Especially in people I’ve never even met before.

Seriously, guys. I’m sitting here crying as I write this because I can’t believe how much of a support system I’ve gained just through this crazy thing called the internet. Especially when only my girlfriend has stepped up to be my emotional support. Thank you. I cannot stress this enough.

On a more serious note, I have some news involving my writing. 

The situation at home and the tension between my mom and I has only increased and gotten worse over the past three days. I haven’t been in such a terrible emotional state in a really long time, and I don’t want it to impact my grades or get me kicked out for sure.

That being said, I’m taking a short break from writing fanfiction until I can gather myself enough. Those of you who sent in requests, thank you so much, and I promise that they will get written when I’m feeling better. There may be sporadic updates when I get bored and want to write something. 

Again, thank you all so much. I love all of you.

If you can’t think of anything to say about a fic, writers also like to know:

- what time it is

- how long you’ve been reading

- how many chapters you’ve covered in the last 24 hours

- what you were late for because you were reading

- the woeful few hours you have left to sleep

- the emotional outbreaks you’re experiencing

- the inappropriate place you’re having said outbreak

- the general public’s reaction to your outbreak

- how much phone battery you have left

When I die…

… plant catnip on my grave. I want to be visited by lots and lots of cats.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends)/Vi (League of Legends) Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Omega Vi (League of Legends), Alpha Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Married Silco (Arcane: League of Legends)/Vander (League of Legends), Teen Romance, Girl Next Door Sevika, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers Summary:

Vi had always been a vibrantly energetic kid. Her parents had put her into sports early as a kid, just to burn off the energy she came home with every day. She was scrappy, too, and could hold her own in a fight. She inherited her alpha father’s temper, and her omega father’s wit, and both of those combined made a deadly combination. Everyone assumed from the day she was born that when she presented, she’d be an alpha.

That was why, when Vi finally presented (late, at sixteen), she was horrified to discover she was not an alpha. She was, in fact, an omega.

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Omegaverse Sevika/Vi, with a little girl-next-door, teenage romance.

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Requested by my lovely regulars and also a gift for one of my commenters <3