It hung on the fridge in its glorious crayon-d glory, with a dark purple line scribbled at the top for a sky and dark green for the ground. In that space between, the area between sky and earth, hung bright yellow stars, looming over stick figures in the grass. And in that space between the stars hung a little rocket ship, grey and bright red, spitting fire.
When Spades Slick’s boy brought that home from kindergarten, he grumbled a little, deep in his throat, and slapped it onto the fridge with a little smiley face magnet. Then he slowly turned and looked at the young troll- barely out of pupation- who was shuffling his feet and staring at the ground.
“And what in gods name,” he said, “Is this?”
“Teach asked us to draw what we wanted to be when we grew up,” the boy said, simple as could be. He avoided the man’s gaze and instead chose to stare at the tile floor.
Slick sighed and got down on one knee, taking his tiny charge by the shoulders. “Karkat,” he said, trying to be as gentle as possible, though that was hard when your voice was a nicotine-worn gravel, “Karkat, you wanna be an astronaut?”
Karkat nodded, chancing a little glance upwards. Slick felt his heart melt a little.
“Well, it aint happenin’. Trolls aren’t allowed in space, remember?” Slick stood and adjusted his suit coat absentmindedly. “Now, how does mac’n’cheese sound for dinner?”
And so the five-year-old Karkat sat down at another dinner of macaroni, and despite the laws and regulations put up- no lowbloods in governmental positions, no extraterrestrial travel, no this and no that- he would dream of touching the stars for the rest of his life.
The dream dissipated into reality sometime around his sixteenth year.
That was the year he met Aradia.
badhoruss askedThank you! <3 (Gosh I need to learn how to tag asks so I can just…have this little corner of the blog dedicated to all the lovely people.)
arafef askedWhy, thank you, kind soul!
nocturnalliterature-deactivated askedI almost don’t even want to publish this because I want to keep asks like this in my inbox forever so I can look back on them and get all the warm fuzzies that I feel right now.
TL;DR Thank you so much. You, my good sir/madam, are absolutely brilliant!
(Wait ‘till I actually publish actual things that are relevant, not just that silly little teaser trailer thing. Muahaha…)
I think that all writing is useful for honing writing skills. I think you get better as a writer by writing, and whether that means that you’re writing a singularly deep and moving novel about the pain or pleasure of modern existence or you’re writing Smeagol-Gollum slash you’re still putting one damn word after another and learning as a writer.
(I just made that up. I imagine it would go something like: “Oh, the preciouss, we takes it our handssses and we rubs it and touchess it, gollum….no, Smeagol musst not touch the preciousss, the master said only he can touch the precioussss…. bad masster, he doess not know the precious like we does, no, gollum, and we wants it, we wants it hard in our handses, yesss…” etc etc)
Neil Gaiman on fanfiction (via wibblywobblyotp)
[This man. I’m in love with this man. He’s just fucking awesome. And this made me happy again after all those MorMor feels. Just read it.]
(via askmissmoriarty)
(Source: lokisathorable)
Anonymous askedThat is super flattering, but also a bit upsetting. I’d hate to be the cause of the end of your project. Do it! I’d love to have a Whostuck buddy! I’m positive yours is awesome, probably even more so than mine (especially considering I haven’t even published anything yet, haha…)!
Doctor Who/Homestuck AU for your enjoyment. Not very well organized or planned, though the worldbuilding is quite extensive, if I do say so myself.
