“Don’t move, you’ve got a spider in your hair.” “Did you hear about the snake that escaped a few blocks down from here?” “Great, the elevator door just jammed. Tell me you’ve got your phone on you.” “Wow, this is really high up. I don’t think I like this.” “You didn’t say this gig would be so crowded… Would it spoil the experience to stand at the back?” “Are you okay? It’s not that high up, really. Come and look, the view is beautiful.” “Don’t panic, just don’t look at it. The drip’s important if you want to get better.” “Wow, it’s really dark in here.” “If you would’ve told me you were so scared of water, I would have taken you to a movie instead.” “I didn’t know this movie was going to be so bloody. I think I’m going to faint.” “Are you alright? You seem very nervous. First time flying?” “What was that?! Was it thunder? Oh no, oh… I really don’t like this.” “What are you so afraid of? It’s just a bit of water.” “Look, even if you do fail it’s not the end of the world, okay?” “What’s going on? Why are you in such a panic?!” “Don’t worry! It was just a small mouse and I can’t see any droppings. It was probably just lost, okay?” “He doesn’t bite, he’s just happy to see you. Why don’t you say hello to him and he’ll leave you alone. Really, that dog is harmless!” “I think I’m going to die. What if I die? I don’t want to die.” “Shh, calm down. You’re in a panic. You need to try to breathe normally.” “Did you check the gas? I think I smell something.” “I don’t know what it is, but it’s big and it’s got many legs.” “I can’t go to the doctor, okay? I just can’t and you can’t make me!” “So, on the one hand you’re afraid you’ve got a deadly illness and on the other hand you’re afraid of doctors.” “We all grow old. Why are you making such a big deal about it? It’s just a birthday, it doesn’t mean anything.” “Calm down, it’s okay. The fireworks are over now. The banging has stopped. You can take your hands off your ears now.” “Why do you hoard all this stuff? It wouldn’t hurt to get rid of some of it.” “The sharks are behind glass, they can’t get to you and you should really see this. Come on, you’ll be fine.” “You could’ve told me you were afraid! I wouldn’t have thought any less of you.” “So, why does this scare you so much? Did something happen to you or something?” “I think I heard something downstairs.” “So, you’re saying you don’t want to be with me because you’re scared of committing, not because you don’t like me?” “Is this too much? If you’re too afraid to do it, you can tell me.” “I’m just so afraid of ending up alone. And it’s weird because I think about it all the time. That’s not normal, right?” “It’s just a presentation, okay? Everyone gets nervous about those. You’ll be fine.” “I’m afraid of being afraid. I sit there being anxious about something making me feel afraid, so I’m living my life in fear of fear… and I think I need help.”
Ahh! This is so late and my writing in this is pretty weak, but hopefully you all like it! It’s a little long, and my first fanfic for this couple, but here we go. Enjoy! ^_^
Rivamika Day 1: Forget-Me-Nots
Prompt: Memories- Remembering those who have suffered or have been lost
Summary: Memories were bitter blessings, and reminiscence was a sweetened curse- because it hurt to remember, but it pained them more to forget.
There was always something bittersweet about the sunset.
Another end to another day, allowing a bit of reprieve even if the war would start again tomorrow. Iridescent light beamed through his window, bathing the room in a soft, orange tinge. The scene would have been peaceful, even lulling, if hadn’t awoken distant memories. It reminded him of ruby hair, and in turn reminded him of bright green eyes, of an exuberant energy that had never truly faded. Of a little sun that glowed with childish warmth, one that had long since been dimmed and extinguished. The thought made him grimace. It made him loathe the setting sun just a little more.
It was at that sunset that Levi sat alone in his office, shadows stretching across the floorboards as the light slowly vanished. A single drawer laid open at the very bottom of his desk, its contents overflowing with a morbid kind of grace. Countless crests lay sheltered in the little wooden bin, each darkened with age and time- perhaps with even bit of grief. They were reminders, he told himself, of faceless sacrifices. They were tokens of the fallen and the lost. He never thought the wings of freedom could seem so crude amidst the piles of sullied and broken badges, yet even now they reminded him what the cost of freedom truly was.
Bryan F is a very warm, transparent person about things. How refreshing :)
Interesting and funny comments about shipping and shout out to fan-fiction writers at 14.26 mark.
Reporter: “…why do you think fans gravitated towards the Show in such wonderful hoardes?
“…they (fans) immediately started to identify with both characters, Will Graham or Hannibal Lector and they ‘shipped” those roles (looks at Bryan, who nodded) is that what you were saying (laughter from around the room) and they just became a terrific, huge, collective and it grew. And, they’re smart, and we talked about this as well, our audience is I would say a more mature, smarter audience that appreciates the subtleties, that appreciates the scale of which things are done, from the music, from the cinematography, the cast, from the sets, the writing. So it’s given them a lot to play on and we appreciate that. That’s what’s supported us.”
“I think in an interesting way since the Show is fan-fiction. I’m a huge Thomas Harris fan, and it’s not a literal adaptation even though so much of the literature does make it into the show. It’s relatable to that community who are also fan fiction writers and story-tellers, so I respect when they twist it around in very interesting ways and have very strange (lots of smiles) illustrations of Mads and Hugh often chewing each others penises off and, God bless them. (laughter)
lilith: what was your biggest rebellion against authority? why did you do it? raum: do you have a tendency to hoard anything? if so, what? jezebel: talk about a time you used your sexuality to get your way mephistopheles: have you ever helped a loved one destroy themselves? verrier: do you find yourself disobeying or obeying most authority? asmodeus: on whom do you want revenge and how would you take it? baal: if you were a god, how would you prefer to be worshipped? lamia: how do you feel about children? lucifer: what are you most proud of? sonneillon: do you hate anyone? batibat: talk about the worst nightmare you have ever had abaddon: what person, place, or thing have you most wanted to destroy? belias: do you gossip? abraxas: do you believe in any higher power? if so, what? ornias: talk about a time where you felt drained of energy lix tetrax: if you could travel by wind, where would you go? astaroth: have you ever falsely accused someone? carreau: do you consider yourself compassionate or harsh to others? why? leviathan: what do you believe lies in the unexplored areas of the ocean? belphigor: if you could pick 3 forms to shapeshift into, what would they be? azazel: talk about a time when you were falsely blamed for something mammon: when were you most greedy? for what? verrith: are you a patient or impatient person? pythius: out of all the lies you have ever told, which is your favorite? berith: do you often argue with others?
Cis people are fragile and I will not handle with care
What cis people don’t understand when they pull that emotionally manipulative “You hate me because I’m cis? You want me to die? I guess I’m trash blah blah blah” shit on trans people is that they can close the browser and have those feelings disappear in an hour, tops, because the rest of the world caters to their every whim and fancy, reassures them how normal and fantastic they are, tells them that we’re inferior creatures to be brushed aside and not listened to.
We have to feel like that almost every waking moment of our lives. We have to know that most of the world finds us unnatural and very legitimately wants us dead. They paint us as inhuman and undeserving of the basic right to exist among them. They tell us that we’re mentally ill based on the sick prejudice that leads them to decide both groups are less than human, which furthers the violence and stigma against the trans and mentally ill communities, and upholds toxic stereotypes. They tell us that our kind should be exterminated. They portray us as criminals and objects and beasts to be offed for the better.
The entire world tells us to feel bad for who we are, so we create the tiniest safe space to tell each other that we’re not so bad. And in that safe space, we feel comfortable enough to say, “You know, cis people scare me” and hoards of them barge in screaming “WHY DO YOU HATE ME JUST FOR BEING CIS” in order to get make sure every corner of the world, even our little place we’ve tried to make for ourselves, is coddling them and telling them that they’re above us. It’s not enough for the entire world to tell them how superior they are, no, they need us to say it, too. They just want to be sure their feelings come first in every situation.
It’s no secret that I hate no-foam latte people. I think I may hate bone-dry cappuccino people just as much. A man came up to get his cappuccinos right before I went on break and complained loudly that they were undrinkable because they were “too heavy”. I made them myself. They were 75% air. Our cafe’s cappuccinos are made traditionally, as in, it’s about the milk-to-espresso ratio, rather than how foamy it is, but upon his request, I made them as dry as possible without wasting milk. He came back with his cups, but only after (we saw after looking in his cup) he had eaten all the foam off the cappuccinos, so there was maybe a mouthful of actual drink at the bottom.
Imagine a Hell, as Dante did, where Bone-Dry Cappuccino people push excruciatingly heavy, overflowing cups in a big circle against No-Foam Latte people’s cups. Only milk froth, as thick as memory foam, spills onto the heads of the No-Foam Latte people as they scream “WHY DO YOU HOARD?”, and only scalding liquid, devoid of any bubbles, splashes onto the heads of Bone-Dry Cappuccino people, and they scream “WHY DO YOU WASTE?” For all eternity, they struggle against each other in futility, tortured by their stupid drinks.
Canto VII of Inferno, in the 4th Circle of Hell, designated for the sin of Greed. How appropriate. Idiots.