Merry Ratmas, alex!
Dec 23, 2019 12:47:41 GMT -5
Post by Azalea on Dec 23, 2019 12:47:41 GMT -5
Hello alex 🐺 !
Happy Ratmas beautiful! It's the holiday season and I really hope you enjoy it doing whatever you love with the people you love. Thank you for blessing the site with your writing and presence, the stories you create with your tributes and characters make this site what it is and we're so grateful you are here! I know you asked for a payrise and a puppy for Ratmas ... but I'm really sorry that I can't give you either of those things. I'm sending good vibes out into the atmosphere so hopefully your boss will respond in the appropriate way and a lone, homeless puppy will turn up at your door step.
Other than that - I have made a playlist based on the songs you submitted in the Ratmas form! I actually really like this playlist and have been listening to it myself, so I really hope you like it too. There might be some songs you know and some you don't but exploring music is always fun for me so maybe you'll find it fun too! I added some of my own favourite songs which I thought fit the style of music you seem to enjoy (So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings, Stole Your Car and Rhythm Inside are all amazing songs!!!)
For Alex
I tried embedding it but it didn't work so... there's a not very pretty link instead. Sorry!!
I have also made a table for each of your favourite characters! Hopefully there is something you like. Making these graphics made me realise that you have some hot face claims, so yep, yep, yep - making these was fun for me. If you're ever in the mood to write any of them, I'd happily volunteer any of my characters!
Again, I hope you have an amazing Ratmas and holiday season. Apologies for this being a tad late but I'm sending positivity and love from across the pond so please remember that before you (potentially) come for me.
Love Aza xx
Love is the be all and the end all; mercy, touch, serenity and all things in between.
"I am still me." Of course, life gets in the way and worms its way through a person to create conflict and difference, the persuasion of others turning us from our true colours to just another shade of grey that turns the world just that small bit darker. "You are still you."
A journal falls from his bag to the grass and his fingers stretch to offer it my way.
"A broken heart is still a heart. It just works differently." Love becomes even more important because it can try to bridge the broken pieces back together, it can fill in the gaps where people, places, moments and memories have been lost. I know that he is right when he says I am change, but it still makes me sad to think that I am the only one who has had enough heart to become the change I have wanted to see in the world. "One thing is for sure: a broken heart needs the most love."
I crouch down to sit by him, and I grab his hand. The journal sits in my lap and I can feel it telling a story already. "I have one of these, too. I do not want my story to become a tragedy, so I wrote my own."
But I'm not sure the same can be said for Ronan—he has given in to his broken heart, let the darkness in and refused love. He is a performer, and this is no comedy or romance. He is a tragedy, and in a tragedy, love is mercy.
"The sun will set, and it will make your tragedy beautiful."
I sit with him and I squeeze his hand. "You are a story for the ages."
Love is the be all and the end all; mercy, touch, serenity and all things in between.
"I am still me." Of course, life gets in the way and worms its way through a person to create conflict and difference, the persuasion of others turning us from our true colours to just another shade of grey that turns the world just that small bit darker. "You are still you."
A journal falls from his bag to the grass and his fingers stretch to offer it my way.
"A broken heart is still a heart. It just works differently." Love becomes even more important because it can try to bridge the broken pieces back together, it can fill in the gaps where people, places, moments and memories have been lost. I know that he is right when he says I am change, but it still makes me sad to think that I am the only one who has had enough heart to become the change I have wanted to see in the world. "One thing is for sure: a broken heart needs the most love."
I crouch down to sit by him, and I grab his hand. The journal sits in my lap and I can feel it telling a story already. "I have one of these, too. I do not want my story to become a tragedy, so I wrote my own."
But I'm not sure the same can be said for Ronan—he has given in to his broken heart, let the darkness in and refused love. He is a performer, and this is no comedy or romance. He is a tragedy, and in a tragedy, love is mercy.
"The sun will set, and it will make your tragedy beautiful."
I sit with him and I squeeze his hand. "You are a story for the ages."
Love is the be all and the end all; mercy, touch, serenity and all things in between.
"I am still me." Of course, life gets in the way and worms its way through a person to create conflict and difference, the persuasion of others turning us from our true colours to just another shade of grey that turns the world just that small bit darker. "You are still you."
A journal falls from his bag to the grass and his fingers stretch to offer it my way.
"A broken heart is still a heart. It just works differently." Love becomes even more important because it can try to bridge the broken pieces back together, it can fill in the gaps where people, places, moments and memories have been lost. I know that he is right when he says I am change, but it still makes me sad to think that I am the only one who has had enough heart to become the change I have wanted to see in the world. "One thing is for sure: a broken heart needs the most love."
I crouch down to sit by him, and I grab his hand. The journal sits in my lap and I can feel it telling a story already. "I have one of these, too. I do not want my story to become a tragedy, so I wrote my own."
But I'm not sure the same can be said for Ronan—he has given in to his broken heart, let the darkness in and refused love. He is a performer, and this is no comedy or romance. He is a tragedy, and in a tragedy, love is mercy.
"The sun will set, and it will make your tragedy beautiful."
I sit with him and I squeeze his hand. "You are a story for the ages."
