*stretches and gets ready for a long, polite response*
And you missed my points, but that’s fine, online miscommunications happen due to lack of tone and intent. I apologize if I sound defensive about Angela, because I immediately assumed that your problem was with the ship and her assumed (and now canonically proven wrong) involvement with Genji’s cyborg weaponization process. Possibly because of how hostile you sounded. I still get the hostile vibes but for the sake of clarification and explaining things as politely as possible, I will try to keep mine civil in return in hopes we all reach an understanding.
And because this post is now super long, a readmore is actually required :>
There’s a bright figure in the distance in the shape of Jinyoung, but his face his blurry. He stands facing me as I squint to see clearer. There’s a fear within me, but I’m too curious to let it scare me too much. “Jinyoung?” I call out but the figure stays silent. It makes me emotional to be experiencing such a supernatural feeling. Why isn’t he answering me? Am I invisible? “Jinyoung!” I yell out more confidently. The figure turns away from me and walks straight ahead. My feet pulls me forward and I begin running to him.
Trolls fanfiction: “Light Blue Sky, Pink Bright Flower” [5/5]
I finished it. I finished it! Man, this was a VERY LONG chapter, but I did it! :D Well, as you can see this is the last chapter of this story, I hope you liked it. From now on, I’ll work on Caged Hearts (I’m writing the next chapter in these days) and on another fic based on an AU (not mine, I’ll tell you when the first chapter is ready).
Little note: I accept requests from now on, if you’d like (Fluff, Angst, Smut, Romance, Adventure, everything!) and if you enjoy my writing, I would be happy to accept your requests (to “train” my English and have fun). But hey, if you don’t wanna, I guess I’ll focus just on those two fics! Bye, and enjoy this last chapter!
Rest In Peace, Lucille Fay LeSueur aka Joan Crawford (March 23, 1906–May 10, 1977).
“Hollywood never gave her anything. She gave Hollywood something.”
“In the face of all the vituperative criticism directed at her, there is no woman in Hollywood today who has helped more people and helped them more consistently than Joan Crawford. The Joan Crawford no one knows is unhappy, irretrievably so unless she is doing something for somebody…This business of “giving” is a thing very close to the heart of Joan Crawford; it is the thing no one really knows about this much-maligned beauty of the screen. It is as much a part of her life to put someone on the defense as eating, sleeping and acting is…There was a time not long ago when anyone who had a sick cat, an injured dog, a molting canary or a visiting uncle who broke a leg could call Joan Crawford on the telephone and tell her about it. After that she took cure of the lame, the halt and the blind at her own expense and in luxury—with the best doctors and veterinarians that could be mustered. She never could say no…there’s a certain Los Angeles hospital today [that is] a Joan Crawford endowment.[She has] two private rooms…in the past two years more than 390 major surgeries have been completed in [those] rooms for people who couldn’t even afford the County Hospital, if they were asked to pay for it…Joan Crawford pays the bills. She never knows the people for whom she is paying, and she doesn’t care. All she cares about is whether or not they get well, whether or not the doctor who operated on them has added anything to the surgical knowledge of the day. And the destinies she has turned in those two rooms may be important destinies to the world. She doesn’t even realize this today— but the doctor does and the hospital does, and the people who have lived in those rooms do. She pays the bills—thousands of dollars annually; and she never asks a question.”