Um.
Hi.
I'm Beabae. I might eventually use my real name. I'm dyslexic, I write and draw sometimes. I want to make lots of different stories about lots of different sorts of people.
The pronouns I'm used to are she/her but I don't mind him/his. I am asexual, pan-romantic, though I think I lean towards females. I'll try to not screw up too badly.
I like an awful lot of things, especially fanfiction, novels, hetalia and homestuck. Some things may be NSFW; I have as little idea as you do.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
I…actually made a set uhuehuehue.
Ok so I have some headcanons of Hetastuck, I guess. From a logical standpoint, it would be more fitting for the 1p countries to be the pre-scratch trolls, being the original incarnations of the countries (hence the dead statuses of them all), and the 2p countries to be the post-scratch trolls. The personalities also match up as the 1p countries generally have less violent tendencies than the 2p countries and have a less tumultuous social culture in general.
Also, Francis has an orange ribbon…I wonder what that might indicate? :>
Next will be the 2p FACE trolls.
Al and Tony made in the middle of writing Starman ( http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7420349/1/The_Starman )
j. edgar hoover & america—the fbi file on America
In the winter of 1969, a man in a rumpled suit and a wrinkled tie appears in John’s office.
John offers him a cigarette but the man shakes his head, smiling a little. His eyes are blue and far-away as he looks out the window. Security doesn’t know about him and John’s secretary won’t remember him when he leaves. He’s a harmless light fixture, a bland portrait on the wall that everyone knows but can never recall the details of.
John stares at him.
The man stares back.
It feels—John’s a man of secrets and files and intelligence. He’s cold and he’s good at what he does and he leaves morals behind in favor of results. He feels nine under the man’s gaze, he feels small and insignificant and like all of his sins have been brought to light. There’s no judgment in the man’s eyes—all John sees when he looks is himself, hard-lined face and deep-set eyes, fingers dirty from being dipped into too many pots. He coughs.
