I got the honor to participate in @jojofanzine (which is an awesome project btw thanks for having me!) a while back so I drew as many best girls as possible from Jojo which is hard bc all the girls are best girls.
The noise of the hotel being built behind my house has been a constant for the past twelve months, and the worst part is I have become accustomed to the disappearing quiet and sadly rather attached to the shaking walls and screeches of burning steel and clamor of hammers and circular saws. There is one sound, however, that cuts through the din and that is the incessant beep, beep, beep of backhoes and cement trucks reversing. But, when I found myself trapped in the newspaper headlines this morning, I realized that maybe the worst noise for all of us is the sound of progress going backwards.
Be careful of that girl,
her eyes are too blue
a fire that burns
hotter than steel meeting stone.
She looks to Troy
and knows what she wants,
she’ll scorch more than one
great city to the ground
and when she turns your heaven
to ashes too,
she will expect nothing less
than a thank you.
So I remembered that my name is FANFICdiddlydoo so here are some good fanfics to read
Returning to my roots. Most of these are one’s I’ve read so far (there are TONS more to read so if you know more plz let me know!). Need to look into more. I’m interested in ALL characters so if you know a good one, link me!
A/N: The idea came to me while listening to Met at Work…1500 words.
Traveling in a
On a hippie trail,
head full of zombie
I met a strange lady,
she made me nervous
She took me in and
gave me breakfast
And she said
The awareness that Inuyasha required water sooner than later
buzzed in his ears, annoying and persistent like the gnats that hovered his
But he hadn’t a drop of it, and he had traded his last horse for
the rifle that burned hot steel against his back. Useless and unprovoked since
the second he threw down his saddle for it.
He’d see her again…eventually. The mare was his and always
would be, so he needed to find a temporary job, build up his savings again, and
buy her back.
Although none of those things would happen first without his
And seeing as he was shoulders deep under a crushing weight
of orange desert sand, head pushed to the side to sizzle under the unpitying
sun- he was sooner fated to die of dehydration than apply for any open career
About 43 seconds into this amateur footage of a fire, the flames begin to emit an eerie screaming sound that is enough to frighten anyone. The whole things gets a little less surreal when you learn that the fire was created from gunpowder being burned inside large steel drums, and the noise created was from holes in the the steel drums, creating a whistle effect.
He strode near her until he was looming over her, but she never balked, never cringed–just locked eyes with him and stared with a challenge on her mouth. “Liar,” he breathed. He could see the stormclouds swirling behind her eyes.
Hers was perhaps the most intoxicating scent he’d ever encountered. Like … salt, and fresh-forged steel, and bitter winter air–nothing remotely feminine, except perhaps the hint of anise. It filled his blood, roaring through him like it had the first time, only stronger now … much stronger.
Her heart contracted and her lips parted. They were so alike, the two of them. Whatever the material that stirred someone’s blood to flow–Cauldron or not–it was the same for them.
Something else locked, too. Like a cord, tied from her soul to his, burning like forged steel, shackling them together. His eyes went wide, his nostrils flared, and there was something like genuine fear in his eyes.
Nesta Archeron was his mate.
All text taken from “Grounded” by Sarah Viehmann. Do not repost edits or quote fic without permission.
To be reforged, Something needs to be heated, Shaping steel can not be done, Unless energy flows through it.
My steel is cold now, It has been for a while, And through typhoons and earthquakes, All I have left Is unrefined ore.
But with nothing else, I will not resign myself to the way, This was handed to me. With hammer in hand I strike, Again, And again, I will make the steel burn myself, And shape it into something grander than before.