I’m so pissed at myself. I said I was taking a break from tumblr so I wouldn’t spoil my read of Kingdom of Ash. I even set up the tag blocking to avoid it. Let’s cut to me this morning thinking I could do an innocent check in since I missed your crazy mothers. Instead, I see an anti-SJM post with quite possibly significant spoilers who proceeds to go on a motherf*&^T tirade about a book that no one else has seen so they could ruin it for others. I couldn’t look away - I was stunned…and then I swear to all that is holy my laptop barely survived.
Here’s the thing. I know whatever Sarah has in store for us, there is going to be a LOT of hate. People are going to lose their shit over anything and everything. I learned that from the last 3 books she released & the reaction. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if there’s another cataclysmic rift in the SJM fandom. The books aren’t perfect, but damn it, they are an escape, and they bring me joy. Sue me. I’m also completely fine if you hate it. It’s your perspective, and it should be respected.
But for fuck’s sake, at least wait until the gods damned book has been out more than a day before you spew your hate into the ether.
Thus ends the rant. I’m sure I’ll have a meltdown after the damn book is out. It appears to be my thing now. In truth, I’m sure I’ll really enjoy it. It won’t be perfect (see velvet wrapped steel :|), but what is these days?
I’d love to hear perspective. Much love to you all and hopefully, happy reading!
I tried coloring this 3 times and it just isn’t working out for me :-[ anyways here’s Simon and Shepard geeking out over their friends . And yes, Penny made them all friendship bracelets
The shadow of a fish approached the surface of the lake, rising with intent as its glassy eyes fixed upon the silhouette of a tiny struggling form- a fly that darted too low, snatched from the air by an improbable swell of water. It lifted its curved mouth, poised to lunge with sudden sucking force to cast the fly to its oblivion, but just as it shot up a rock struck at an improbable angle, shattering the surface with a sharp smack as it tossed a ribbon of spray into the air. In a teal flash of scales the fish fled into the depths, and in the gradual fade from light blue to deeper browns the rock sank to its new home, leaving nothing but the disturbance of ripples in its wake. The fly, jettisoned a few ilms from where it started, struggled quixotically against its fate.
High above, Shandrelle flung out a hand. “There! There, did you see? It definitelybounced.”
Ojene scoffed, her elbows dangled over her knees, both legs drawn up close to her chest, feet wedged in the gutter of the roof. “With that kind of throw? Please.” Her toothy grin glittered in the afternoon light. “I only saw one.”
“Say what you like,” Shandrelle said primly, crossing her arms across her chest, “I know the truth!”
“Hm.” Ojene plucked another rock from the small pile heaped between them, stolen from the lake’s edge and hauled all the way up the building in Shandrelle’s pockets.
The thought of the tiny shards of stone and the dust she’d have to crumble from the clothes was the furthest thing from Shandrelle’s mind as she grinned impishly back, giddy with mischief as the wind ripped a strand of hair from her bun and flung it into her eyes. Ignoring this scrutiny, Ojene eyed the stone, turning it over in her hand as her thumb tested the flat surface on one side, then the other. Then, seemingly satisfied, she reeled back her arm and in a sharp crack of motion she lobbed the rock out into the expanse.
It had no chance. The stone angled too far, too fast, striking the lake in a heavy drop that flung a tongue of water high.
“Well!” Shandrelle proclaimed. “That wasn’t nearly as good as mine.”
“Oh? Then why don’t you give it another try, if you’re so good?” Ojene flourished a hand to the heap.
Shandrelle’s grin snaked wider as she grabbed another rock. As she squinted at the lake she circled her arm experimentally one way, then the other. The angle was hopeless, she knew. The chance of them skipping a rock from up here, huddled three stories up on the roof of a bakery, was slim to none. But maybe if she got it just right-
“Hyah!” Shandrelle yelled as she flung her arm forward- but the stone slipped traitorously from her fingers at the wrong point and crashed, not out into the lake, but hard into the bakery’s wall.
Ojene doubled forward as she cascaded into pealing laughter. “What was that?”
“I don’t know!” Shandrelle dissolved into giggles. “But I hit it!”
“You- oh no, they might have heard us.” Swallowing a great guffaw, Ojene spun around, squinting over the slanted roof.
“What would they say?” Shandrelle gasped, clutching at her pinching sides. “‘What are you doing on my roof?’ ‘Get down you ridiculous mummers.’ ‘I thought you’d be children’?”
“Children- probably! Hm. It’s fine.” Snatching up another rock, Ojene eyed the lake.
“Matron,” Shandrelle uttered, and she snaked a finger behind her spectacles to strike a spot of moisture from the corner of her eye. “Skipping or not, you do have a much better arm than me.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ojene said, half-grin returning, and she coiled up her arm before snapping it forward like a snake, and the rock soared free as an arrow in a long, lazy arc. “You could have put out a window with that last one.”
“Occupational hazards,” Shandrelle declared. “But in all seriousness- damn!” she shot a finger forward, gesturing haplessly at the space the rock sailed through. “Do it again!”
With a laugh Ojene obliged her, and Shandrelle watched in rapt fascination as the second rock scored just as far as the first. “That’s what I mean! How do you dothat?”
“It’s archery,” Ojene said, then shot Shandrelle a quick glance. “Well, not really- but it’s the same idea in a way. You’re launching an object and trying to make it go as far as you can, so there’s a sort of- best angle to do it in. Depending on the wind, and so on and so forth.”
“Really? Show me again!”
Ojene did- over and over as Shandrelle egged her on until the small pile of rocks was depleted, leaving only dust. With an effusive sigh, Shandrelle leaned back against the roof, casting her arms behind her head.
“I’m glad you convinced me to come up here,” she said. “I never knew roofs were so fun.”
“They can be.” Ojene flashed her a sidelong smile. “It’s also nice sometimes, just to get away from the crowds. I used to do this, but with trees. It’s not so different really.”
“Ah yes,” Shandrelle said with a laugh. “The bustling fourteenth bell crowds outside a closed bakery with nary a customer in sight.”
Ojene shot her a measured look. “Don’t laugh. It’s different for me. I didn’t grow up with this. It gets claustrophobic sometimes.”
“Right, right. Sorry- I forget sometimes. About our backgrounds, I mean.”
“I don’t know how you could.” From the recesses of a trouser pocket Ojene pulled out a small object, clutched in her closed hand. “No one else does.” With a sharp flick of her wrist, one last stone shot through the air, catching the sunlight in a blip of light before it cascaded down to the lake, crashing into the ripples before it sank out of sight.
if monaco has a million haters, im one of them. if monaco has five haters, im one of them. if monaco has one hater, that one is me. if monaco has no haters, im no longer alive. if the world is a fan of monaco, i am against the entire world. till my last breath i am a monaco hater
that moment when you had an idea for a gifset and completely forgot to write it down before going to bed and now for the life of you, you can’t remember..:/
