👀👀 Not Gonna Name Names But SOME Of U Are Sweet And Kind And Deserve The World And I Am Rooting

I talk a lot about using your local library, and as a person with a fantastic local library, I am privileged in that push. Unfortunately, it has become apparent in the new year that the budget for audiobooks has shifted. Whether due to inflation, changes in funding, or something else, my local library has not been buying as many audiobooks, which affects me as an audiobook reader deeply.

The secondary service I rely on after the library is, without a doubt, Libro.fm. So, if you want to help me get access to more books, and also enjoy an audiobook service I genuinely believe in, check out my referral link. If you use it, I get credits, which I use to expand my digital library when the library rejects my suggestions.

Here is my referral link:

Libro.fm

Buy audiobooks & support local bookstores

Libro.fm makes it possible for you to buy audiobooks directly through local bookstores.

Yes, yes, I love this dynamic so much! I love both when it's incredibly sweet, and also when it causes a character's downfall.

My favorite relationship dynamic in fiction is a worshipper and their God. Not a literal God, but their God. The only thing in the whole world that matters to them. I will live for you, I would die for you, I would kill for you. My only moral compass is You. You can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never stray from your side. I was born to meet you and to love you. You are the only being I pray to. Your life isn’t just my passion, it’s my religion. You don’t think you’re anything special but you don’t see what I see. You don’t see that you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way. You don’t understand how beautiful you are to me and I will devote my entire life to making you understand and accept it.

new reblog game actually put in the tags what the blog you reblogged from tastes like

i'll be real, sometimes when i'm writing my own stories and i'm trying to be poetic with my fifteenth metaphor i have to sit back and be like. actually you're doing too much when what you mean to say is "i love you." like sure, maybe the fruit rots on the vine without hands to cradle it or a mouth to press itself against, or maybe the heart is a house, half-lit, with your ghost in all the windows, but all i mean by that is i love you, i love you. what's more poetic than that

If you ever make a taglist, feel free to add me to it!

Master Post of Neon Ash

Chapter 1 - Jesse Survived.

Chapter 2 - Lira Cried.

Chapter 3 - Jesse Slept.

Chapter 4 - The Protest.

Chapter 5 - Mysteries.

Chapter 6 - Hope.

Okaaayyyy I'm about to post my Webtoon contest entry and 40% of the judging is reader engagement (😵‍💫) so not to beg like a whore or anything but, if you enjoy my stories please check it out. Daddy's been working real hard to make you a comic Kitten please like comment and subscribe 🙏

Ooo I am so intrigued so far! I wonder why Jesse and Lira feel connected. Are they soulmates, did they know each other in a past life? I also wonder who that man was. So excited to read more!

Chapter 1 - Jesse survived

For most of her childhood, Jesse lived in what could be called a shed. The inside was cramped, barely enough for her mother and herself to move around. Drafts always managed to seep through the cracks in the walls or the gaps around the windows by the moment. A narrow bed was pushed against the wall opposite the wood burning stove, just big enough for the two of them to sleep in together. Despite all this, Jesse’s mother made sure her daughter knew she was doing her best to add as much comfort as possible to their living conditions, there were a few hand-me-downs and scraps of fabric adding some semblance of privacy and color which the two of them appreciated.

The outside was a mess of unkempt grass, some discarded tech, and a broken down truck. Nothing to write home about but it was their land, and she knew every inch. Mom would tell her stories of the past when they could afford this small patch of peace, the freedom it instilled in them before corporations swarmed the suburbs with towering, sterile buildings. This was a place of calm resilience for Jesse, though she never fully realized the weight of the situation until much later.

One day, the inevitable came barreling down on them–the land had been bought up by some nameless megacorporation. They woke from a deep slumber to a blaring horn from the bulldozer, a solemn reminder of the destruction to come. They scrambled to flee the building in time, leaving behind everything that wasn’t already on their backs and feeling distraught as they watched the home they had lived in for years get demolished in front of them.

Her mother fought hard to keep the land, but a corporation stole it. She was old enough by then to know the look of despair on her mother’s features. The last bit of freedom and dignity they had clung to for the last seven years of her life had been torn from them–leaving them both metaphorically and literally naked as she stared at the broken rubble of what she had called home.

She despised watching the apartments build up on the plot of land where she had spoken her first words, taken her first steps–but what is someone like her able to do against that level of authority? Everything she had known since birth was destroyed in a matter of moments by the cruel, unflinching megacorporation that her mother had warned her so much about since as early as she could remember.

She knew she couldn’t do anything about it–not yet at least–but she made a silent vow to herself in that moment. She would make them pay for taking her dignity, and she would personally carve out her own freedom from the very foundations of every single corpo bastard’s cushy home.

When Jesse and her mother were first forced into the complex, she found herself lost in a crowd of people. Every wall looked the same–sterile and all too clean. Every concrete hall echoed eerily, either with silence or sounds she couldn’t bare to comprehend. Her mother worked long hours to afford the rent, leaving Jesse alone in these sterile halls for all to long for her comfort. To escape the reality of the situation she wandered the labyrinthine halls or sitting on the flights of stairs–until she met Lira at least.

Lira saw her, a girl who looked like she didn’t belong in these halls even as she was aimlessly wandering them, and felt herself drawn to this girl by an unseen force. Neither girl tried to blend in, not really. Lira’s heavy boots made loud echoing footsteps as she walked towards Jesse, who seemed to almost be in a trance as she walked–seemingly not hearing the steps coming behind her. Lira could tell this girl was hiding something, some heavy burden she couldn’t help but feel intrigued by.

Lira tapped Jesse’s shoulder and turned her around, seeing the girl’s trance snap the moment her hand touched the girl’s shoulder.

“You seem lost,” Lira said almost too matter-of-factly as she searched the girl’s deep emerald eyes for any signs of modification.

Jesse didn’t answer for a moment, but she didn’t pull away from Lira’s touch, either. She felt an instant connection, as if there were impossibly unspoken decades of conversation that had already happened between the two.

“What of it..?” Jesse managed, her voice foreign and broken in her throat.

Lira could feel the contempt brewing beneath the girl’s calm exterior and smirked at the attempt to suppress it. “I like that about you, the name’s Lira.”

Jesse locked eyes with Lira, a small smile threatening to creep up on her lips–the feeling was just as foreign as her voice felt just moments ago. She was speechless, considering her reply for a long moment.

“Thank you, Lira…I guess there’s no getting out of being your friend now huh?” Her voice initially came out as quiet as a mouse, “My name’s Jesse.”

Before Lira could answer, a loud bang rang out in the halls, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. What seemed like a scream was interrupted by another bang–two, three, four–Jesse’s face was contorted with fear and anguish as she recognized the scream. Without thinking, Jesse ran toward the source of the sound, Lira not far behind.

Jesse skidded to a halt as the hallway bent sharply, her sneakers scraping against the concrete. Her breath caught somewhere in her throat–a choked sound, halfway between a gasp and a sob. The surrounding air was thick with the sterile scent of cheap industrial cleaner, but underneath it lingered something coppery and unmistakable.

Her mother’s body was sprawled across the threshold just outside their apartment door. A crumpled form that once held tired laughter and soft lullabies. Her eyes–usually alert, darting, always worried about Jesse–were empty now. Open. Unseeing.

Blood seeped out from beneath her mother in sickening contrast to the dull grey walls. The pattern of it already began to dry into the cracks of the floor, spreading out like tendrils trying to become part of the building itself.

Jesse didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her legs were locked beneath her, the world suddenly quiet. Too quiet.

Behind her, Lira arrived, breathless, her presence a sharp contrast to the horror. She looked between the body and Jesse, reading the story in the girl’s silence. The air buzzed faintly with the distant hum of corpo drones–already gone, their protocol overlooking this. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the form of a man rounding the opposite corner, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the glint of a gun in his hand.

“Jesse…” Lira whispered, stepping forward carefully, as if she were approaching a wounded animal.

Jesse was beyond hearing. Her fingers began to twitch at her side–tap… tap… tap-tap… tap. The rhythm she didn’t realize she knew. A lullaby pattern, ancient and instinctive, a whisper of her mother in motion.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t scream.

She just stared.

And then her knees gave out.

Lira caught her without hesitation, arms circling Jesse like they’d always belonged there. She didn’t speak. Didn’t try to fill the space with comfort or apology–only silence and warmth. Even though they’d just met, Lira understood something vital and unspoken. Jesse needed someone to witness this moment. Not fix it. Not erase it. Just be there.

And Lira stayed.

The iron hand of Götz von Berlichingen (1480-1562), a knight and mercenary who lost his right arm in a siege [640×360]

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New WIP Posted On AO3

Teenage Wasteland (3711 words) by afrostedlemoncoward Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Original Work Rating: Mature (For bad language, drug usage, and mild sexual scenes) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Tegan Raines, Samantha Corino Additional Tags: Original Fiction, Young Love, Teenagers, 1990s, Original Character(s), Original Story - Freeform Summary: In the spring of 1997 close to summer break, fourteen-year-old Tegan Raines. A former orphan and foster child, now living with her grandparents. Meets the new girl across the street who, unbeknownst to both, have their lives changed for both the better and the worse.

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