ahaha -guilty look- sorry friend ><
((LOL!!! No, you are a total sweetie about it <3 <3 <3 đ no worries ))
Tag Archives: sadisticfiction
Donât worry about them! It is supposed to be fun and thereâs plenty of people who understand and want that to be the case for everyone ^^
thankyoouu ;-;Â
youâve only been rping 9 months? :O Thatâs amazing youâre already such a pro! ^^ I feel u about not having confidence, but I think you just have to keep pushing through? …
Oh gosh, thank you for the kind comments. <3 I should clarify, though – I’ve only been tumblrrping for the last 9 months… but I’ve been roleplaying on MUSHes/MUCKs/etc since ‘99. In fact, that’s how I met my husband! We were playing on a Pokemon MUSH a million years ago, started talking about art and playing together and… bam! He moved here to date me in person (LDRs are hard, man) and we got married 2 years later. ….7 ½ years ago. omg I AM old!
Re: The books… I need to set time aside every day to write. I know how to write and what I need to do, but I always… just avoid it. For some reason. I think my mentor had a point about my being afraid. But I could write a huge essay on that topic alone (I actually have a comic in draft form for that).Â
I’ve been re-reading my current novel in progress lately, though, and it’s getting me excited for it again… so that’s a plus!Â
Must set goals. Must actually work toward them every day.Â
Re: The art… I get in a funk with my art every single winter. It’s like my skills and confidence run and hibernate. If you’re curious, though, my portfolio is here:Â http://gabapple.com/Â – truth be told, I went to university to be an animator, switched to the illustration major, and then took mostly english classes. Uh. I’ll get out of my rut eventually… just need to keep trying to get commissions done in the meantime and attempt to not complain so much.Â
ugh I need to update my website… the events tab is totally out of date. I only have one con to sell at lined up for 2014 so far…
and I need to fix my comic website and get back into that again. and to think I was Guest of Honor at a con last summer for my art. :I what has become of me?
regardless, thank you so much for your help (and the advice that you’re giving to me on skype dkjlgafdas you’re amazing) <333
sadisticfiction replied to your post âceleskid replied to your post:ÂŁ why canât you? D: I mean if you love…â
Hmm… well maybe you can keep working on those side projects and try to get something published? I mean you said you’ve finished novels before :O Do you not think any of them are worthy?
WELL… They all need heavy revision and my energy/confidence ratio wavers greatly. I work full-time as a web developer, so I honestly don’t have a lot of free time. I… really could manage what time I do have better, though. The second novel I wrote is actually in fairly decent shape, just needs some reworking… and I have like 3 others that are at 60% of their first draft.Â
Ughhh yeah. I need to work on them. And get something sent out. That’s one of my goals for the year! Get something sent out to agents, see if I can get some representation.Â
Huu…Â
I’ve taken university classes, run/participated in writing groups for years, so much workshopping, conferences, editor consults, author lectures… you’d think I’d have a handle on this. Several peeps from my writing group have submitted, a couple of them have gotten published, and here I am just… shrug? I even have a published author who has more or less been my mentor for the past several years (and she’s asked me if I’m afraid of success; doesn’t know why I’m not moving forward)…Â
This blog has been a great way to practice, though, holy moly… I think I’ve learned a LOT in the 9 months I’ve been doing this. So much writing, trying out different styles, giving myself homework and tough challenges… and all publicly available for people to read. I’m even starting to proofread a little bit (but I’m still super lazy, let’s be honest).Â
I’m in a fantastic critique group right now… very small, and the two ladies I write with are so talented… ughh and they keep pestering me because I haven’t submitted in mooooonths…Â
I don’t even remember where I was going with this, but I’m soapboxing like Hakuba so I should stop it. HAH.
:V
tldr; I need to write… esp since I have basically lost all confidence in my ability to art.Â
ps I feel super old now
Black Bird
The Belt
It was 17:14:32 – just after 5pm on a Wednesday afternoon when they were caught. Hakuba – then known as James – remembered his face; wry smile stretched under freckled cheeks, brown eyes squinting in amusement. John Wells. The most perfect boy heâd ever met. Athletic, smart, tragic. Theyâd met at the academy three years before and, somehow, ended up in the same middle school.
Together, they explored a private world of experiments and experiences. Both of his parents worked, so it was easy to sneak in after school and huddle in the under-stairs playroom. No one needed to know that they shared an intense love, or dreams of running away to Paris, and the hope that, some day, they wouldnât have to hide. Wouldnât have to feel so guilty about what they did together, how they felt.Â
He loved John. They needed each other. There was so much pain that needed to be erased. So many things to learn. John was safe. John was wonderful.
ButâŚÂ
They didnât hear the heavy footsteps, nearly forty-five minutes too early, until it was far too late. Their laughter masked  the closing of the front door and the door leading to the finished basement. The heat between them kept them from realizing that they were no longer alone. Really, it wasnât until the door to their safe space was torn open, blinding them with light from the hall, that the panic fully set in.Â
Had they more time, even just a minute, they could have hidden what theyâd done. What theyâd been doing. As it was, James stared in wide-eyed surprise as Johnâs father hesitated a full five seconds before he grabbed the dark-haired boy by the arm, dragging him from his grasp. Rug burns on naked skin would have been bad enough, bringing a whine of sympathy to the blondeâs throat.Â
“Dad! No, itâs⌔
“How could you do this to me? To your mum?! I thought we were PAST this!”
“Leave him alone!"Â It hurt. The yelling, the fear. It brought back too much too quickly. James pulled his trousers on and, heart in his throat, forced himself to step out and face the man. Heâd seen too many people get hurt to stand by again. John didnât deserve this.
However, as he looked between the two of them, his resolve faltered. There was pain in the manâs face. Anguish. John wore it, too. No one said anything for a moment as they let the outsiderâs voice fade.
Then, without looking at him, the father gave a calm, simple command.âGet out.â
It was followed by one from John. âDo it, James⌠just go.âÂ
"But⌠no, you canât do this! Heâs not doing anything wrong! Itâs okay!”
“JAMES, get OUT!”
To hear those words from his lover, said like that, brought heated color to his cheeks, eyes stinging from the feeling that was something between embarrassment and betrayal. He went back into the playroom, gathered his belongings, and left without another word, just as that man slipped the leather belt from the last loop of his trousers.Â
The slap of it against skin and the subsequent cries reached him just before slamming the front door behind him on his way out for the last time.Â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â You’re an amazing writer and rper! Let me read some of your other stuff some time k?
((sldkjfalsdkjfa thank you so much! uhm uhm if you really WANT to read some of my other stuff, sureâŚ! ahhh!! <3 oh I should tell you to follow http://fishsticksnovel.tumblr.com/ which is the blog for my current novel in progressâŚ.????  thankyouoouuu))
Send me a â if you like my writing
ââżââ
Send â for a HEALTH headcanon.
Hakuba is a fairly healthy individual, in large part due to his diligence for good hygiene. is a bit of a neat freak, as well may be expected. He keeps things clean and well-organized pretty much all of the time. Lots of showers, hand-washing, hand-sanitizer, ironing, etc⌠and the maids at the mansion do a great job of keeping things spotless. HOWEVER⌠contrary to popular believe, he does not mind getting dirty to get work done. If he has to traipse through mud to catch a culprit, he will. He may lament his dry cleaning bill (a cost that could have been avoided), and he doesnât like to stay dirty, but he will not shy away just because of some elbow grease. He just may⌠set the suit jacket out of the way and roll up his sleeves, first.Â
Send âż for a HAPPINESS headcanon.
Send â for an ANGER headcanon.
While itâs not difficult to fluster Hakuba, or get him riled up by irritating him, it does take a lot to get him actually angry. Part of this is because he has gone to great lengths to disguise strong emotions under layers and layers of control. Most often, especially with enough time for mental preparation, he takes anger and buries it, then detaches from the emotions at hand. This leaves him cold and distant with a carefully neutral facade. Once heâs in a safe place and able to process these emotions, they tend to shred inward. Thus, after emotional encounters, he tends to wait until itâs permissible, then escape to quiet ground to be isolated for a while. An example of this is when his parents used to fight, screaming at each other⌠his recourse was to hide in the back of his closet, behind clothes, on top of shelves, etc.. and not come out for several hours until heâd had a chance to break down, process, become numb, regroup, and compose himself once more.Â
Send â for a FOOD headcanon.
On a good day, Hakuba struggles to finish his meals. Whether this is because the staff gives portions that are too large or because he consistently undereats is unclear, though he seems to have this problem most anywhere he goes unless he packs his own food. On bad days, or during periods of high stress and anxiety, he canât seem to eat at all. It may be that he survives mainly on tea.Â
whiteknighthakuba started following you
Kado strolled down the deserted streets, grinning as he flung his arms behind him. Ah Japan, he thought to himself, skipping around the corner. Itâd been forever since he had returned to his birth country â his motherâs homeland – five years at least. He loved communicating in his native tongue, and he planned to sightsee before traveling elsewhere. Heâd have to pick up a stamp from the post office and maybe a phone charm as well, assuming his employers wouldnât confiscate such an insignificant trinket. Red and blue lights flashed in the distance, and he sighed, glancing at the coordinates he had received. Of course the police were already here. He flipped the black hoodie over his blonde hair and turned into the alleyway.
He frowned, slinking around the police detectives who were too distracted by the crime scene to notice a skinny teen blending into the shadows – despite his tall stature. The victim appeared as an elderly man, probably late eighties or nineties, and there was no trace of any inhuman features. Interesting. A high ranking official hmm? Find out if the serial killer is human or supernatural? He didnât understand: it wasnât like he was a supernatural hunter; he couldnât think of many reasons for the demons to be interested in a seemingly insignificant event. Something to do with treaties and intercultural affairs was his best guess. Oh well. First place to start was asking around and finding more out about this âmanâ and the other victims.
He shrugged, sliding in between two officers whose backs were turned to him with ease so he was at the other end of the alleyway. He smirked, about to head off when he felt someoneâs eyes on him. He turned around with uncertainty. The brown eyes of a blonde, British teenager about his age pierced into him with suspicion. Kado gulped, understanding heâd been noticed. Of course he could make excuses, but if they searched him down⌠Maybe he shouldnât be so cocky. Damn.
“Excuse me,” the aforementioned teenager said, brow raising with a skeptical glance over the other boy. “This is a closed crime scene; officers only.”
Although Kado had been attempting to leave, Hakuba had taken an interest in the scrupulous stare that he’d noticed. That meant that he was interesting. Someone of note, perhaps- if not to this investigation, then certainly for others. He licked the back of his teeth as he approached, cutting through mingling officers to put himself in a position to interrogate.Â
“What are you doing here?”