A Light But Relentless Drizzle of Anchovies

I am Annie: biromantic, graysexual, she/her.

Things you might see on this blog include: Les Misérables, Shameless, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Harry Potter, Marvel Comics/Movies, Kings, various actors, writing, art, my life, and theater

It frequently gets social justicey in here. I am not sorry about that at all. .

GRYFFINDOR
{ POTTERMORE SORTED }

My Fics

Original Writing:

Untitled Royalty (Working Title)/ The Gracious Monsters (Working Title), Breaking Magic, More Dangerous, The Lonely Collective, The Wire Mother, My nanowrimo tag (if you wanna watch me freak out)

Also: I draw, sing, and read a lot
Who I Follow

saxifraga-x-urbium:

paracartography:

Yes, of course I’ve heard what the superstitious locals say: “Stay out of the mountains! There’s no shelter on those harsh peaks, and every last combe and glen is infested with killer spiders!”. They say there’s no way to safely cross that mountain range - anyone trying to rest high up on the peaks will die of exposure, lashed by cruel icy winds. Better that, though, than to risk seeking shelter in the forested vales.

The Crawling Death, they call it. Great glossy black eight-legged fiends, some small enough to creep between the rings of your maille, some large as a splayed hand and quick as a cat, and some - so they say - the size of dogs. Or swine. Or cart-horses. The tales have been exaggerated in the telling, of course, since hardly anyone dares venture far into the gullies and ravines that lace between the majestic peaks (most certainly not at night, when the Crawling Death make their appearance, silent as a shadow).

Even if they’re not quite as large as people say, they’re certainly no less deadly. The king’s physicians, who had the unenviable task of tending to the survivors of the last failed expedition, wrote down in stomach-turning detail the precise symptoms of that merciless venom. Erupting blisters the size of a hen’s egg. Flesh blackening, rotting, and sloughing away from the bone. Sweating, drooling, trembling, nausea, vomiting, ranting and raving and spasming like a creature possessed until death seems like a mercy. Others were gripped with a pain unmatched by any wound of war, paired (curiously) with an erection hard as any standing stone.

And yet, in spite of all this, I’m planning an expedition into the mountains. It’s true, I haven’t the equipment with me to safely shelter from the bitter cold above the tree-line, out of the reach of skittering legs and poison-slick fangs. I have no blessing from the gods, and no miracle of alchemy intended to keep the Crawling Death at bay. What I do have, though, is a map. A map from a past age, a more enlightened age, where the cartographers had a decent understanding of the sciences, rather than the encyclopaedic knowledge of rumour and superstition that seems to be the requirement for a mapmaker these days. And from this map - and the journals that I found with it - I have deduced one particularly salient fact, that I am convinced will allow me to make the journey through the supposedly arachnid-infested ravines in perfect safety.

The superstitious peasants might say every last one of those valleys is crawling with deadly poisonous creatures, but in fact, most of them are utterly empty and safe! However, my map has revealed the source of this rumour: Spiders Gorge, which contains over ten thousand spiders, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

i feel you deserve some sort of prize for this

(via afigureofspeech)

dudewheresmyhalla:

See now I’m on a feminism bender and I want to talk about all the female characters done massive injustice by this fandom.

Let’s talk about Anora. Let’s also have a fucking talk about Isabela. In fact, let’s have a riveting discussion RE: fandom reactions to “betrayals” of female characters vs. male characters.

Read More

squided:

"bisexuals are just being greedy"

This statement is correct.  I want all the donuts to myself.  No sharon you can’t have a donut.  Yes, I know there are 24 donuts.  Yes, I want them all for myself.  Fuck off sharon.

(via whtaft)

americaschavez:

tbh if you shit on people who go to community college youre gross and i dont like you

(via 148km)

bigcrazybrowngirl:

Finding people attractive when you’re asexual is like, “I don’t know what I want to do with you exactly, but I wanna do a lot of it.”

(via luchia13)

rinthedrowpriestess:

sometimes I get really stressed out because my body doesn’t match society’s expectations of beauty and sex appeal

and one night I was complaining about it to my sister and she said

"It’s not very punk rock to meet society’s expectations"

I think she changed my life

(via reelingruinward)

I know that I’m an adult, but I need a higher level adult.
words that just left my lips and describe my current life. (via enjolrastopheles)

(via acousticlight)

kaonashizen:

bleu:

look , i literally can’t stress how cute this deleted parks and rec scene is and im about to lose my fucking shit.

Im in love with Chris Pratt

(via cptnbckybrns)

harrysde:

From Elon James White Tuesday night.

(via daftpunkforcutie)

camiyak:

ventus-went-us:

Simple and Clean is truly magical because never before has a song made me so emotional while making the least amount of sense imaginable

(via lyriumrain)

linzeestyle:

mishasminions:

FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT STEVE TRIED TO TRIGGER BUCKY’S MEMORIES BY WEARING HIS LESS DURABLE RETRO!UNIFORM (aka the not-so-bulletproof outfit he wore the last time Bucky saw him) AND BY QUOTING SOMETHING BUCKY SAID TO HIM 70-SOMETHING YEARS AGO

Okay okay but can we just talk about this?  The entire movie Steve’s worth is defined by what Captain America has become.  He goes to the Smithsonian to see Captain America’s life projected back at him — the boy he was before a footnote, the sickly waif who wasn’t good enough until the army (literally) made him A Man — while he’s there he walks around unrecognized; the entire gag at the mall is based on the idea that this is a 6’2” hulking muscled mass of a guy who absolutely no one recognizes unless he has that star on his chest, because it’s the suit, not the person, who’s been given worth.  And when Steve thinks about the most memorable thing about himself — when he thinks about how to get Bucky back — he goes for that.  He goes for Captain America.  And it doesn’t work; Bucky doesn’t react at all.  Because Bucky always saw through that.  He didn’t give a shit about Captain America.  That “little guy from Brooklyn,” that’s the kid he loved, that’s the one he was following when he died, the one who’s scared voice knocked the memories out of him earlier in the movie.  And it’s only when Steve drops the shield, and the helmet — all of the things that make him Captain America, that make him immediately recognizable to the rest of the country, to the world — when he calls on this one, rogue memory from when they were just kids, from before he was the national ideal of manhood he’s been made out to be since his death…  That’s when Bucky sees him.  Because Bucky doesn’t remember, or care about Captain America: Captain America is just a target.  But Steve Rogers, that little kid from Brooklyn?  Is under him, and dying, and scared…and the impulse to protect is so much stronger than anything else that’s been done to Bucky since then.

(via trenchcoatsandtimetravel)

queertrees:

geekygothgirl:

verycuriousnocure:

During World War II, Josephine Baker served with the French Red Cross and was an active member of the French resistance movement. Using her career as a cover Baker became an intelligence agent, carrying secret messages written in invisible ink on her sheet music. She was awarded the Croix de Guerre, and received a Medal of the Resistance in 1946. In 1961 she received the highest French honor, the Legion d’Honneur awarded by then President Charles de Gaulle.
Our loss, U.S.A….

If you don’t admire the shit out of J. Baker, who was also pretty openly bisexual and adopted NINETEEN children in addition to the badassery mentioned above, I want you to go sit in the corner and think about your life choices.

um she was also a huge civil rights activist and her refusal to perform for segregated audiences at major clubs that were fallin over themselves to book her helped de-segregate vegas performance venues
aaaand she had a pet cheetah

queertrees:

geekygothgirl:

verycuriousnocure:

During World War II, Josephine Baker served with the French Red Cross and was an active member of the French resistance movement. Using her career as a cover Baker became an intelligence agent, carrying secret messages written in invisible ink on her sheet music. She was awarded the Croix de Guerre, and received a Medal of the Resistance in 1946. In 1961 she received the highest French honor, the Legion d’Honneur awarded by then President Charles de Gaulle.

Our loss, U.S.A….

If you don’t admire the shit out of J. Baker, who was also pretty openly bisexual and adopted NINETEEN children in addition to the badassery mentioned above, I want you to go sit in the corner and think about your life choices.

um she was also a huge civil rights activist and her refusal to perform for segregated audiences at major clubs that were fallin over themselves to book her helped de-segregate vegas performance venues

aaaand she had a pet cheetah

(via theletteraesc)