#I genuinely think the writers forgot half of the shit they wrote

[swampbrick]

I am pretty sure that Viktor was shot in the arm, and the next scene it's never brought up again??? Bro is just doing everything with bullets in his arm

My idea of a perfect world is one where they took a solid 30-60 seconds away from the Days of Our Lives infidelity side plot to address Viktor’s GSW; even if it was just to show him with bandages around them, to imply that they were treated offscreen.

[nochi-quinn]

legend of vox machina watch party episodes 10-12: non-fungible thordak

"she's not having any of our shit tonight"

did matt get a haircut

"you're not leaving 'til 2 am, bitch"

"are you a vampire coven?" "if taliesin were here we could talk about it"

episode 10 act 4 part 3

"this is where we forgot to draw the city"

liam fangirling his own show

"OPE he lost his fingers"

"stop SPOILING. there's gonna be ACTION in the show."

"the tree piece in this game is really OP"

"shitty vox machina came in to ruin their Warhammer game"

"I forget which animals are fused with humans."

"shut UP matt"

"shout out - oh shit he's in the room"

"you slapped porkchops for like hours"

why does that sound like a euphemism

"I feel like that'd be it for me"

"matt mercer is mean!" "I didn't spend hours building those toothpick barricades for nothing!"

"that's why we named her pike"

"is there no basement? there is not"

bassment

I love how much they love their show. I know I was poking at liam earlier but it genuinely is so charming

"same arrow! that's called being responsible"

phil defending his poor herdsmen

"you guys are VIOLENT"

"TOP ROPE"

"spoilers!" maybe it'll be different on my screen

"and they were correct"

I FORGOT HE ONLY HAD ONE HITPOINT

recklegreweapomastah

"you sound like you've had your ass kicked" environmental storytelling

"there's a z-pack in there somewhere"

"zanror, needlessly hot" liam is fully horny on main tonight

"are they brothers like neptune and uranus were cousins"

"but I was born in canada"

"I actually had to shit myself for that line" "we all did"

"it's fun! and also disgusting!"

"let's not psychoanalyze me tonight"

"keyleth is the cutest" glad we're all in agreement

matt is all of us

"get a JOB leave him ALONE"

"she's bullying vax" "you're not wrong"

"he's doing the whole band" how else are you gonna get backstage

"we had to cut things from other episodes to get in 'at dawn we plan'" good

you are now Neutral with The Herd

release the underwear bible

"it is a square"

"you know what's weird? watching this scene with your kids"

"HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS" "it was very difficult"

"did you have to have a talk about bondage and safety?!"

"we have…DIFFERENT PARENTING STYLES"

COLOR SCRIPT COFFEE TABLE BOOK

GIMME

that's a cool band logo

oh NO

matt broke all over again

listen sometimes you just have to have a mental breakdown, it's good for your mental health

"we asked! we forgot."

"turkey vulture!"

"in a week we can talk about it. …something else bad will happen by then." my life for the past year and a half

sam: let me make this as awkward as possible so it can only get better from here

"you write a creepy thing and you feel guilty about it" "critical role"

the writers were on top of that one

"we talk all the time you guys"

"none of this should be happening"

"see, now chat's mad at you"

SAM

THAT was liam?!

I'm turning in my voice actor fan card

"you're gonna be the guy they hit"

the fact that he wasn't doing a low bass was why I didn't clock him tbh

"take that, vegeta"

EPISODE ELEVEN

"seventy-five!" "eighty-three!" "hike!"

OH the mugs!

samuel

"beautiful nonsense scene"

travis slapping sam's hand away from the edits

"what you did is bad!"

"THIS IS A GOOD SHOW"

"I'm sure it's fine"

"this is taliesin's front yard, actually"

"look what they did to my boy"

"campaign 4 reference, shh"

"kiss him, vax"

I looked up the show sam and liam referenced, it aired 92-93. I was 4.

umbrasyl listens to linkin park, it's canon

"he's a lot less menacing if you think of him as a whiny kid" there's a lot of that in that last fight

"award-winning awkwardness"

"ashley did not have to act here"

"I think taliesin wrote some of this bullshit"

"if you'd stop FEEDING THEM"

"cut my heart out" liam gets me

"blood pools are my kink"

"it's capri-sun, it's fine"

"it's a discotek at night"

"I've had this dream" I have been blessed to not have drowning dreams, if that changes now I'm fighting matt in the street

between the two of them liam and courtenay voiced half of new vegas

matt drop the raven queen lore

matt you have to tell sam's kids it's the law

"is it YOU?"

not the creepy cg mask

"he's just a little dork!" accurate

percy 100% would have been a train nerd

why did liam's mic pick up him knocking on his head so clearly

very cool that they built the trap in 3d

"this is basically a documentary"

"HO DAMN"

"he goes INVISIBLE?!"

phil with the list of the names

that, that "can't hit what you can't see" felt very adolescent to me

"some said longer, some said shorter" "we disregarded both!"

"the only episode this season where we end on a cliffhanger"

"episode 47 down"

travis I heard you echo that "duty"

remembering that liam went through all of this while dealing with his mother's death

matt: like comment and subscribe

"if you don't do it you'll turn into a squidface" "that's season 3"

"for some people that's a plus"

I don't know why I like the phrasing "deity version" so much

"there's love there!"

the way he says "conversations" means those two have definitely had at least one fistfight over canon

DARGINS

weasel dragon

Dragon Department

CEO of Dragons

I want "Dragon Team" on my resume

"because percy invented the metric system"

"it's canon now"

17 de Rolos

UMBRASSYL

"chat wants you to show - " "your muscles"

"I practice in the car so my neighbors don't call 911"

EPISODE TWELVE

hope devouwewer

"I want a pink dragon that spits out glitter"

"back inside that bad dragon" liam no

watch out for that treeeee

"but HOW THOUGH" sam gets me

"always bring a healer" stares at laura

"when the raven from the opening went by I fell out of the chair"

"you don't have to choose one" mica/percy/vax polycule

embiggened vestige

umbrasyl on 3G

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAD"

travis keeps catching himself from saying "d&d" and says "ttrpg"

"that's just liam just talking to me"

"kiss her you fool"

scanlan as paul rudd makes 100% sense and I hate it

"RUDE. UNNECCESARY. didn't have to do it and did it anyway"

vex can't feel vax bc gatshadow's made of lead

"ancient dragon, he can do what he wants"

"we had another ending in case we didn't get a season 3 where scanlan ran and everyone died" "whAT?"

"why would you DO THAT TO ME"

liam stop saying bad dragon

"ANIME YELL"

to make an omelette you have to crack a few scanlans

"that's a scrabble word"

"the theme….but slow"

"it's all hue lights"

wait WHAT

rewatches every previous yennen scene

"she could have written a letter" but the mail fraud

age has only done amazing things to cree summer's voice

"what porpoise"

"to go do Vegas"

"put it all on red"

"I'm putting it all into bitcoin"

"he's a cryptobro" "he IS the big bad!"

"you don't get the egg, but there's a code for each individual egg"

I made the poor decision to drink liquids during the watch party again

"that's that thing that I said!"

you know what it makes me think of lernie from hades

this is not a complaint

GOD I mentioned an artbook and now I want it so bad

thordak: talking mad shit for someone in thagomizer range

sketchy vax wings?!

sketchy vax wings!!

"it's not over for all you lefthanded people"

"my wife's a lefty and every morning I say the same thing"

"don't worry laura, you'll be something someday"

The Internets

where's that comic that always makes me cry with the AWNP lines over That Counterspell

matt dropped out of art school to be a rules lawyer

ghibli keyleth!!

cASSeteria

"now you've made me sad" "GOOD"

"fifteen seasons and a movie trilogy"

"he's the EP so he said he gets the killing blow"

"is that you writing" "he uses a typewriter"

"oh god I have to do this again"

[xocasper]

BITCH OH MY GODDD I JUST READ KISS AND TELL?!?!?!!!

i dont know how i hadnt read it yet but oh my god i literally hate you so much that was the best fic ive ever read?? it got so poetic by the end wtf

my personal favorite line was "It seemed as though you had shed your exoskeletons, leaving nothing but the reality that laid beneath layers of labels and assumptions, facades and fronts." LIKE HOLY SHIT BRO YOURE SUCH A GOOD WRITER WHAT

i just love the entire ray's sister concept, and i realy really really love how you didnt make her all naive and sheltered (esp during the smut) because i love the older brother's best friend au but people always make the reader so embarrassing HAHAHA so i really applaud how you made her confident and even snarky at times. no secondhand embarrassment in this fic!

also the reader's friendship with the other guys is YES 🙌

just total chef's kiss all around, love you cas!

OKAY SEVERAL THINGS BECAUSE I COULD WRITE AN ENTIRE RANT ON THE MAKING OF THIS FIC

1. i adore these long messages. i appreciate you sm <3

2. she’s a fucking masterpiece. i consider myself to be relatively humble but kiss and tell is my magnum opus. i will never beat her and i don’t think i want to.

3. i love writing poetic shit. i love metaphors and imagery. i think my favorite lines are either the entirety of the religious guilt passage (mainly “the taste of unholy desire graced gerard’s tongue, wicked truths and sugar-coated lies having him believe that sin would swallow him whole.” for some reason my best writing is done at ~5:30pm. i love that part. i think about it a lot, actually.) or the five senses passage! (i cant pick favorites here honestly. taste and smell absolutely fuck though, i love those lines. smoke and earth?? tongue and teeth and hands where they’re not supposed to be?? shakespeare could never!)

4. i actually wrote that part with a single stream of consciousness at roughly 1am in my notes app! i also do my best writing in my notes app, and i can’t figure out why.

side note: hearing about people’s favorite parts and when they tell me that they laughed at my jokes is the best feeling ever. i love your asks and comments so so much.

5. yeah, it was a really great request! i forgot to mention in the author’s note and stuff that i changed it to step to be more inclusive, but it’s only mentioned in the beginning. i have a couple half siblings and i’ve always considered them full, so i didn’t make it too obvious throughout the rest of the fic.

going along with being ray’s sister, i wanted to give her a sense of edginess that wasn’t overbearing. i feel like ray gets babied in a lot of fics, and i genuinely hate it. rather than making him all innocent, i gave him the overprotective brother role, and even then, i tried not to make it suffocating. he’s worried about her mixing in with the wrong crowds because he’s an outcast himself. he doesn’t baby her either, and they have a similar dynamic to the ways’, except ray’s a little more protective.

6. i didn’t want her to be naive either! the last thing i wanted was to give myself second-hand embarrassment, much less my readers. just because she’s younger doesn’t mean she hasn’t done the same shit. i don’t really picture her as a virgin with a perfect liver and lungs. fics that make the younger sister all innocent make me uncomfortable tbh; it feels like infantilization, which is frankly, really gross.

7. making the reader witty is my favorite thing to do. i don’t know why readers are never written as confident and sarcastic, and instead defaulted to boring and naive. live a little, make your reader less insufferable!

(now that i’m thinking about it, my favorite part might actually be the banter towards the end—“honey, your brother is gonna kick my ass if i sleep with you.” “baby, you’ve already got one foot in the grave for kissing me, and i’d hate for you to die a virgin.” where did that come from??)

8. i really wanted to highlight the fact that she’s friends with all of them! she’s not the annoying little sister; she’s actually pretty cool. i used the mikey way effect, if you will. frank and the reader have this goofy relationship, similar to their relationship with gerard but very platonic. they’re the kind of friends that would fake an engagement for free dessert.

mikey and the reader are the same age, and both pretty quiet compared to the rest of the group. i didn’t touch too heavily on it, but they’re definitely the kind of friends that can read each other with one look. they lay on his bedroom floor in comfortable silence and listen to music just to escape loneliness. all in all, they’ll do pretty much anything together because they simply love being around the other.

9. CAS. I AM UNWELL. I’VE ALWAYS LOVED NICKNAMES :,))

10. i love you too! thank you for reading and leaving the sweetest messages for me. it makes my day every time!

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

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[greekgrad07]

favorite things about your mutuals? its positivity hour, go!

it would be a fucking honor 😭 i tried to get all my mutuals this time but i’m sure i forgot people. i’m sorry if i did pls don’t hate me 🥺

this is in no particular order btw

marisa (@skaterbeth): my fellow short asthmatic <3 i love you bruh 😭 i remember being nervous to message you at first bc i thought you would find me annoying. now look at us 😌 i can message you without fear bc i know you find me annoying 🤍you’re so talented and beautiful and incredible. i love your enthusiasm and you’re so funny. every time i get a notification that you’ve sent me a meme on instagram i get excited (and idk how but there’s one almost every morning when i wake up. i’m not complaining though)

erica (@skateryue): MY TWIN ILY 🤍🤍🤍 i forgot to tell you this but i took a which female atla character are you quiz and i got yue and thought of you <3 you’re so sweet and supportive and deserve all the love! i’m glad our mutual love of the parent trap, our mbti types, and how we’re both jeff goldblum brought us together lol. the vibes are immaculate 😌

adi (@bitcheusjackson): adi you are so smart. THE TAGS I LEAVE FOR YOU ARE WELL DESERVED! you’re such a good writer and your love of musicals is so cute! i also love getting to be an annabeth simp with you (as we all should). you’re also a talented artist! i know you don’t post a lot of your art but when you do i’m always blown away <3<3<3

fátima (@deepestempathllamalawyer): my adopted child 😌 i love you sm 🥺 you’re so sweet- like seriously, i appreciate every self help posted you tag me in and every cute animals post as well. i absolutely love seeing you in my notifications! you’re also the reason i became a malconnor shipper to thank you 😭🤍 (also i still have no idea wtf your url means but at this point i’m too afraid to ask)

ashna (@silenabeth): fun fact, you were the first “big” pjo blog that followed me and i absolutely lost my shit so there’s that <3 you’re such a talented writer and editor bruh i don’t tell you that enough. also, the queen who brought us connabeth i will forever stan 🤩 you’re so funny and one of the most supportive people ever <3<3<3 (also love all of your call out posts about marisa 😌)

sarah (@perseusjackkson): i told you that you were too cool to be following me and i stand by that. you’re so chill and funny, i vibe with you sm. really, your blog is full of so many different fandom and i vibe with almost all of it. you really made your blog for the people <3 i love reading your tags on the things you repost bc they are usually hilarious. also, i couldn’t be more supportive of your engagement to my twin 🤍

regina (@bisexualzia): regina you’re so sweet and genuine and funny and the fact that you associate me with cookies still makes me 🥰 and idk why. your tag has 🔥 by it and i told you it’s bc of ouat. idk if you get that but it’s my favorite show and one of my favorite characters is named regina so <3 also i’m glad there is someone else that can agree suki is superior 😌

zitz (@four-names): another reason why i ship malconnor <3 lol you send the most random asks and they always make my day! and your tags are everything btw stop hiding them �� you’re not afraid to speak your mind and you’re a very genuine person :)

drew (@cubanpercyj): you are so caring and passionate! i love your replies and tags to my posts and i’m glad we agree that percy can’t swim lol. you’re super chill and i vibe with you very much. and i’m sure you’ve heard this a lot but i love your aesthetic. the water header is so pretty <3

kayra (@awkwardteenwriter): you are so sweet! and YES ofc you have a tag bruh. i remember when i first tagged you in a post and you said that it made you happy aljdkhagf i tag you in like everything now i’m sure it gets annoying. you’re one of the most caring people ever though! one of our first interactions was you sending me a virtual hug during a hard time for me and i’ll always be thankful for that 🥺🤍

jaina (@jainadurron): you are so nice. every interaction we’ve had has been nothing but absolutely lovely and i’m glad that you joined the pjo fandom! you like almost all of my posts and i love seeing you in my notifications. also! i forgot to tell you your new avatar is so cute 🥺

haania (@padfootno): i love you and i’m sorry the fic isn’t out yet pls don’t hate me 😭 you’re literally the sweetest and most helpful person ever! i’m so thankful for your help on writing hijabi silena and ever since you’ve been so nice! i also love when you tag me in posts :)

@perca-beths: you give me such good vibes idek how to describe it. also, you’re insanely talented! i found your fic on a03 and when i realized it was you who wrote it i was blown away. anyways you’re awesome and i can’t wait for your next update :)

@percabethica: again, YES you have a tag 😂 you’re so nice! i remember i asked to be on your taglist for your fic and you were so kind. speaking of your fic, i loved it i loved it i loved it! you’re incredibly talented. i always end up seeing your reblogs from me on my dash before seeing it in my notifications and there’s always a second after i notice it where i’m like “omg that’s me. i posted/reblogged something she liked.” also your aesthetic is so pretty, i love it

gray (@bbyannabeth): idk why you’re following me. what do i have to offer? when i tell you i binged your masterlist after you posted it i’m not kidding. you’re so talented and seem so chill. also i just saw that you posted a new fic and bruh, i’m about to create a reblog that has so many tags

@ohmydamgods: i’m not above admitting that i’ve stalked your instagram. your posts are so fucking funny and so are you! i also see people posting your textposts on instagram and i’m always like “*gasp* does she know?” and then i see you’ve commented and it’s all good 😂 also you’re so nice :)

@mydramaticflare: YOU ARE SO TALENTED! when you comment on my fic there’s no time to unpack all of that i lost my shit bc your fic Quiet Moments inspired me to write a percabeth sleepover fic in the first place. also you seem so sweet and you show up in my notifications a lot :)

brin (@skatersuki): first of all, suki supremacy <3, secondly, you’re so smart like wtf. every time you go off about photokinesis and all that i’m like 😐😣😐 also every time i see the book circe by madeline miller i think of you bc you’re the first person who i have seen recommend it

teriza (@wasithard): we haven’t really interacted but we have a lot of the same mutuals so i know you’re cool. lol fr though you do seem very nice and fun and chaotic in the very best way, plus you’re blog is awesome

kayla (@eggplant-avenger): hi kayla :) we met through the connabeth agenda and you are super chill. also i hope that you know whenever i read your tag i hear chris mccarrell’s voice singing ‘being a half-blood, it’s scary, it mostly gets you killed in very nasty ways’

charlotte (@sonofsallyjackson): you are the most supportive person ever. every time i read one of your comments on my fics, my heart swells. you’re too kind for this world <3

taylor (@saltyypercy): another one of my connabeth friends 🤩 speaking of connabeth, your memes are everything! you’re hilarious and your content is awesome

@getwokescullyy: you are such a talented writer!! and you’re so nice and supportive! :) we also have a lot of the same hc’s for post canon percabeth 😌 super excited for your next update btw!

olivia (@thegraystreaks): you are so talented idk why you’re following me. it had to of been a mistake. if, so pls don’t leave 🥺 you’re such a supportive person and seeing you and liz interact is so funny. fr i love your writing sm and i’m obsessed with your url 🤩

aya (@percasbeths): again, WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME? seriously i have some of the most talented writers following me and idk why but i’m not complaining. all of your au’s are beautiful and i’m always blown away <3

@judoflipped: you introduced me to Apartment 305 so i’m pretty sure i owe you a kidney or something now lol. fr though you were so nice to me during our first interaction <3 you’re so sweet and you seem super chill

emma (@jasongrape): first a foremost, a superior url. you’re posts are hilarious, especially the ones of you and ash going back and forth lol.

@clr-stan: we haven’t interacted much but your posts are so good!! and you seem super sweet :) also, you’re right. if the pjo movies weren’t based on the books i would have been invested

@writinglettersaddressedtothefire: i’m pretty sure you’re also a mutual of fátima’s which makes you awesome. plus your writing is so good! also i see that you’re having a great time with taylor’s new album coming out so i’m glad you seem to be doing good 😂

lexi (@multifandom-420): one of the other three malconnor shippers on this cite 😭 you seem so sweet and your posts are top tier

@esistkeinponyhof: you are literally always in my notifications and it’s so fun lol. we’ve never really interacted but i’m glad that you like my blog :) also you’re a fellow directioner which is amazing 😌

@himbolin420: how does it feel to have a canon url? apart of the bolin defense squad and connabeth nation? we have no choice but to stan <3 i remember you kept a count for all of your mutuals when i first followed you and i thought that was absolutely precious lol

@twilight-hours: you’re in my notifications a lot and i'm not complaining. lol you always reblog the funniest stuff and i love seeing it on my dash. i know we haven't really interacted but i know we would vibe 

[raina-at]

In yesterday’s fic chat we were talking about how Mofftiss obviously completely forgot who the hell John Watson was when they wrote Season 3 and Season 4, and how this desire for a surprise and for spectacle is ruining the entertainment industry, because everybody is looking for a shocking twist and not giving any thought to their characters whatsoever.

And essentially, I think this is what happened to Sherlock. Mofftiss let the story drive the characters, not the other way around. They wanted to have a cool twist in which Mary shot Sherlock, but didn’t want to deal with the actual consequences - John fucking hating Mary for it - and just kind of... let John go back to her? Without any explanation why?

And then they constructed this weird- sort of- redemption arc for Mary which never worked because they had NO IDEA who this character actually was, they wrote her any way the situation at hand needed her to act. Same with John. And Sherlock as well. They just randomly do shit that is completely out of character because it would be “cool”. Like Sherlock basically dismissing Mary shooting him, John going back to Mary, Mycroft being completely fucking useless against Magnussen (why, exactly, doesn’t Mycroft deal with Magnussen? Anyone?), Mary running off and coming back, Mary suddenly sacrificing herself for Sherlock (like, why? WHY? She tried to kill him!), John BEATING UP SHERLOCK FOR FUCK’S SAKE WHY THE FUCK!!! I mean, yes, part of it was a giant “NO HOMO!!!”, but it just made NO. SENSE.

This is exactly what happend to Game of Thrones as well. Plot driving characters, not characters driving plot. Genuine character development tossed aside for cool effects and shocking twists. Moving characters around like chess pieces and thinking, “Would be cool if this happened” and not thinking for one second if this would be a thing that character would actually ever do.

The problem with this of course is that this is the fastest way to lose your audience, because nobody will believe your story anymore. Nothing will feel real and impactful because the writers don’t do the work to earn anything anymore, they just drop their characters into situations and they act not like themselves but in a completely senseless, random way to drive the plot towards the next totally empty action point.

And the sad thing is that they don’t seem to understand that they’re making their stories so much less compelling, because I can’t care about a character I don’t know. And how can I know a character if their writer doesn’t know who they are? And if characters just do random shit for no good reason, you have no real emotional moments, no connection, no reason to care. And that way you kill any story.

Tl,Dr: Mofftiss suck, and they have no idea who any of their characters are, and neither do half the writers working in entertainment today.

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Chapter Sixteen of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @theshortywrites​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.17 from @iimdestinyfreereally​ ​ -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER SIXTEEN by @theshortywrites​

Veronica stared at her friend, jaw slack with disbelief, for a beat too long--because the next thing she knew, Logan was snapping the fingers of his free hand in front of her face.

“Earth to Mars. Veronica! Come on, Veronica. We can figure it out later. Right now, we need to get back to the house and get Mac looked over before she passes out again.” Veronica shook her head, clearing the cobwebs from her brain before pulling Mac's free arm over her shoulder.

They started the slow trek back to the mansion, Mac tucked unevenly between them, and they had to stop twice because Mac got too nauseated to keep going. Veronica remained quiet, turning Mac’s words over and over in her head. Fresh snow drifted cold and bright from the sky and covered the trail they followed; it slowed them down even more than having to mostly carry a grown woman, who sported, if Veronica had to guess, a pretty significant concussion.

It took longer than she originally expected to see the lights of the mansion begin to glitter in the distance. In some unspoken agreement, the three friends sped up as the trail thinned and the clearing to the house came into view.

“OOF.” Veronica fell, then couldn't stop the short string of curses that followed as her hand came into painfully sharp contact with the ground. The jolt was quickly overshadowed by the throbbing ache of her rapidly-swelling ankle.

“Ugh.” She heard the shuffle of feet and the rustle of clothes as Logan and Mac tried to avoid falling along with her...or, worse, on her.

“Bond?” Mac's voice was muffled with unmistakable pain. “You okay?”

“Hang on, V.” Logan interjected before she had a chance to respond. “We're close enough to the house, I can get help.” Without waiting for a response, he turned back toward the clearing and released a series of shrill whistles.

Mac winced.

“Sorry.” He at least looked a little sheepish as he apologized. “Guess I could have warned you to cover your ears.”

Before either of them could respond, there was a rustling through the snow in front of them.

“Dude!” Dick's voice echoed off the snow and trees around them. “You rang?” Wallace's head poked out from behind the taller man.

“Veronica's hurt.” Logan’s response was calm, but his eyes were a little wild when he turned his head towards the fallen blonde. “Help Mac back to the house. I'll help V.”

Dick stepped in, swiftly taking Logan's spot under Mac's right arm. “Alright, Mac-a-roni. Let's get you back inside and looking a little less like the Walking Dead. Though, can’t say it isn't working for me.”

Wallace smacked Dick's arm from his spot on Mac's left, at the same time Mac groaned out a halfhearted, “Never gonna happen, Dick.”

Logan knelt beside Veronica, still holding herself above the level of the snow on painful hands. “Think you can stand?”

Veronica tested her ankle, tried to lift her foot from the unusually soft ground beneath it. The sharp bite of pain that immediately shot up her leg brought tears to her eyes. She shook her head and huffed out a breath, afraid of what her voice would betray if she tried to speak.

“Shhhhh, it's okay. I've got you, Veronica.” Logan's hand smoothed across her hair and down her back, pressing and prodding as he checked for any other injuries. “Right leg or left?”

“Left ankle.” Veronica hated how watery her voice sounded, but she didn't have time to dwell on that as Logan's hands swept down her thighs towards her feet. Wish this wasn't a pseudo-medical exam in the middle of a snowstorm, while stuck on an isolated murder island. Then I could actually enjoy this. Those thoughts flew from her mind as Logan's hand reached her swollen ankle, wrenching a cry from her lips.

“Sorry, sorry. I need to make sure nothing is broken or unstable before I try to move you.” He sounded genuinely upset that he’d hurt her, but continued, his voice turning wry and the slightest bit ashamed. “If not… let’s just say that's an almost unbearable amount of pain.”

Veronica grunted an affirmation, adding yet another thing to their ‘talk about once were not imminently dead’ list; resigned herself to huffing and hissing her responses as her ex-current-boyfriend-fling-soulmate-now-nursemaid poked and prodded her swollen flesh tenderly.

“Alright. I can't pick you up like this without jarring your ankle. We need to turn you over. I'm going to support your ankle while you turn, then I can pick you up bridal-style, and we can get back inside before hypothermia actually sets in.” Logan's hands wrapped around her ankle, providing warmth and stability she didn't realize she was missing until right then. “I'm ready when you are.”

One deep breath, and Veronica turned as carefully as she could; desperately, she resisted the scream of pain fighting its way out of her as she pressed against bruised and tattered hands, pulling against muscles already battered and sore from her fall yesterday. She tried to keep her leg as still as possible. Once her left hip hit the ground, she collapsed into the snowdrift, only to have Logan scoop her up before the snow could melt against her face. She brought her arms up to grip his shoulders as he fumbled a bit to find his footing.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sugarpuss. Let's get you inside.” Once he found his balance with the extra weight clinging to his front, Logan practically ran out into the clearing and around the house.

Wallace was waiting for them, opening the door as Logan climbed the stairs carefully. “Dick is taking care of Mac. He's surprisingly knowledgeable about first aid. One too many surfing accidents, I guess. They’re in the servants’ quarters off the kitchen, if you want to head that way. They have the whole kit in there.”

The trio made quick work of weaving between the mattresses still strewn across the floor, dodging people and questions and everything not immediately necessary to the much-needed first-aid quest. What they found when the door to the hidden room slid open was nothing like they expected. Dick sat on the floor with his back against a bed, his head drooping to the side in an obviously deep sleep. Mac was sleeping equally hard, a row of neat butterfly bandages across her forehead and her hand caught in Dick’s hair, smushed between his shoulder and cheek.

Logan looked between the two, then tilted his head towards the first-aid kit. Half of it was strewn across the floor. “Grab stuff for a sprain or break from that, please, Wallace. We'll… figure out what this is all about later. Let's find some place private where we won't disturb these two. They obviously need the sleep.”

Wallace led the way, Logan close behind, still carrying Veronica against his chest without breaking a sweat. They slipped out the back of the kitchen, moving away from the living room where most of the others were gathered, until they found the small library. “This okay?” Wallace asked, gesturing to the loveseat and two high-back chairs with ottomans.

Logan didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he crossed the room and lay Veronica carefully onto the loveseat, leaving her ankle propped up on the armrest before arranging the throw pillows behind her head. When she tried to sit up, he pressed her back down. “You have to rest. Wallace and I will clean you up.”

Veronica couldn’t help but shoot a glare at her ex-current-boyfriend-fling-soulmate-nursemaid, fighting the pressure of his hand for only a moment before relaxing back against the pillows in exhaustion. “Fine.”

“You mind taking a look at her ankle, Wallace? You probably have more experience with sprained ankles than I do, given your illustrious basketball career. I’ll get her hands cleaned up.” The men got to work, Veronica occasionally hissing and groaning in pain as they worked. When all was said and done, she had an ice pack tied around her rapidly-bruising ankle, and a gauze mitt around her right hand to protect the deepest of the cuts from her fall.

“Here, take these.” Logan ripped open a small white package, offering three little brown pills. “Ibuprofen. Should help with the pain.” Veronica grabbed the meds; she swallowed them down quickly with a bottle of water that seemed to appear out of thin air. Had she passed out at some point?

“Something’s not right.” Veronica mumbled.

Wallace looked at her skeptically from where he’d settled into one of the wingback chairs; his legs were crossed and propped on the ottoman in a posture far more relaxed than the token-black-man in a horror story should display. “You mean… other than being stuck on murder island with a hidden killer, who seems intent on maiming or killing most, if not all of us? With you being the main target, and now dealing with a concussion, a sprained ankle, and more scrapes and bruises than I want to think about? What could be wrong about that, V? Isn’t this just how our lives go?”

Veronica’s eyelids, heavy with the unavoidable sleep that always follows adrenaline letdown, fluttered as she shook her head. “Not that. Well. That, but not just that.”

“What else isn’t right, Veronica?” Logan prodded, knowing they needed to get it out of her before she fell asleep and likely forgot everything.

“Can’t be Lilly. She’s dead… or she’s… two? Too. Too tiny to kill. Maybe Mac just saw a tiny blonde? Lotsa tiny blonde chicks that probably want me dead, especially… connected to Logan.”

Logan squawked indignantly from his spot on the floor beside the loveseat, where Veronica’s non-bandaged hand lay over his shoulder, pressed against his chest. She patted him groggily. “…is k,” she slurred, fading quickly into sleep. “You have a type. Me, but less fabulous. Still love you.”

Logan shook his head, turning it just enough to press a soft kiss against her forearm. When Veronica’s breath evened out into sleep, he shared a worried look with Wallace. Then they both closed their eyes and followed V into the darkness, oblivious to the shadow creeping along the library wall, and sneaking out the still-opened door.

[clowdydrecms]

oh i forgot i literally wrote up three new muses a while ago and like...never did anything with them. so yeah while i work on adding these lil shit’s to my theme check under the cut for a little run down on my new guys !

grey williams // twenty four // trust fund baby // thomas doherty 

grey is actually orion’s half brother, their father cheated on orion’s mother with their maid - grey’s mother. when he found out that he’d gotten her pregnant their father fired his mother ( though he did offer her a significant severance package of over a million dollars under the condition that they move out of nyc and never tell his new wife of his indiscretion ) when grey’s mom left nyc she wasn’t aware that his wife was also pregnant with a boy until they both gave birth thousands of miles apart on the same day. may 7, 1997 orion’s mom went into labor naturally and grey’s mom had to get a c-section because of a medical emergency, ry’s mom had support and love and grey’s mom gave birth, all alone with nobody there to help her. grey stayed in the NICU for 3 months and for a while the doctors didn’t think he’d make it. grey has always wondered why his mother never dated and always looked so sad, she suffered severely from postpartum depression and grey spent a lot of time with his aunt and uncle who more or less raised him. he learned pretty early on not to ask about his father because it would lead to big emotional displays and grey has never been the biggest fan of feelings. he’s a very logical person, he’s very blunt and straightforward. he’s never really had to try hard at anything, never worried about his future or had many plans for his life beyond doing whatever the hell he wanted. he’s got a bit of a coke problem and loves drinking. 

cedrick hemingway // thirty one // writer - focus on dark fiction and poetry he’s this generations ‘edgar allan poe’ // matthew daddario

cedrick and freddie grew up with a deep love of literature, they were the kids who would write stories for each other and slide them under the other’s door. their mother loved to tell them that their love of books rand in their blood, they were descended from ernest hemingway afterall. cedrick loves poetry and dark twisted stories, after the murder of his mother that love only intensified. he’d write stories of how he thought the killer found their mom and what might have happened while they were together. he doesn’t talk about that part of his life really. he’s sarcastic, selfish, hot headed, forgetful and tbh has a terrible drinking problem but thinks that he can’t stop or he’ll lose his ‘muse’. rick is the kind of guy that’d go out of his way to help you, tbh probably sugars a few girls because he’s not the best at forming organic connections and the idea of paying someone to hang out with him is a lot less intimidating than hoping that someone will genuinely like you for who you are. 

micah zamora // twenty seven // architect // keith powers

the zamora men are notorious for being, well kind of trash. micah is no exception to the rules, while maman spends all of her time with the girls teaching them yoruba and etc papa is the one who raised the boys. they’d spend their time in the church with him, listening to his sermons and watching women fall at his feet. papa was the kind of man who taught his sons how to well, be just like him. so for a while micah thought he’d go into seminary school but after middle school he had to be honest and tell pop that he wasn’t sure if he even believed in god. that was a blowup of epic proportions but i digress. micah is more of the romantic, sweep you off your feet kind of player. the one who opens door for you, brings your mom flowers and telling you that you’re his ideal wife all the while you never know that he’s doing the same thing for like, three other women. he’s energetic, funny, kind, generous, thoughtful and bc he was raised around so many women he genuinely does care about them and their well being unlike some of my shitheads. 

[leviathiane]

SHOW US YOUR WROR RAW UNPROCESSED WHOLE GRAIN ORGANIC NOTES

this is going to be a long-ass post i am so sorry to Everyone! i take a lot of notes.

So, as You specifically know (as well as all of my lovely Soggers) I take a LOT of notes. Obsessively. I write fucking everything bc i have very little memory and very much paranoia. This results in literal Piles of notes. Raw planning, on paper, on my phone– doodles of scenes im brainstorming, bulletpoints, entire SCRIPTS– it’s all there but scattered (I’ve got scenes planned in the margins of my goddamn anthropology notes and deciphering it was a NIGHTMARE) 

I won’t even upload all the photos of my writing notebook, because itd be like 50 pages of illegible nonesense. but heres a couple of planning phase pages. (may be hard to read, I dropped this notebook both into some tidepools, into a creek on campus, and accidentally leaked my waterbottle onto it in my backpack :/) 

if you can’t tell already, yes they all look exactly like this. Some are even more illegible, because I wrote them with the notebook half under my actual class notes. Because i wrote most of them in class. During lectures. And pretending very badly that i was not doing exactly that. (pay attention in class please i got away with this bc i was filling up elective units) 

I’m also flat out MISSING a large portion of my notes bc some of it? isnt even in the damn notebook. its on a sheet of binder paper, or on the empty back of an assignment. I’ve now lost most of those notes, but the ones i do still have are just as (even more, actually) indecipherable chicken scratch: 

Wow, how clean and tidy and easy to follow! i am in hell. 

and this doesnt mention the PAGES and PAGES of outlines that are on my laptop, and the pages of outlined scenes that are on the notes app of my phone. if i put them all, you would have entire chapter spoilers up to the very end of the story so i cant post a lot of them– and also theres just a goddamn lot of them. currently i have 16 pages of outlining. There are no spacing breaks. It is a solid 16 page block of text. Looking at it gives me a migraine. 

some assorted notes which i have dredged up from the deleted parts of the main draft google doc go all the way back to when i started Wror in June and they are Barely more readable than my handwriting on sheer account of: articulation is not my strength. These include: 

“Ch 8 plan: sabo gets trained specially, awakens his armament haki, beats ace in a bunch of spars and proves himself to be anything but vulnerable. The boys are like “we fucking recognize that technique ryu taught you before us!!” and goad ryu into finally starting them both on basic haki training, just to awaken it, since sabo already has. Also this is the chapter that ace finally confronts ryu for his devil fruit after ryu confirms that some devil fruit users can’t be hurt without haki and ace immediately catches onto that and tries to slam his pipe through ryus head. It doesn’t work, ryu catches the weapon with a haki covered hand, to avoid turning to flame with hit and ace just gets frustrated and accuses ryu of hiding his devil fruit, because he remembers what he saw in grey terminal and that now that he has seen haki he can distinguish it from what he saw and he’s sure no one could do what ryu did. He calls ryu a hypocrite for coddling them even after telling them to stop coddling sabo and ryu has to sit them down and explain that yes he does have powers and he has been hdiing it and explains his reasoning. However instead of understanding th eboys just get fired up and say they don’t wnt to be scared of fire, especially not when it means ryu isn’t taking them seriously in a spar. Ryu finally agrees to start them on desensitization training for fire trauma. Fire desensitization training happens on the beach, so that they have water nearby in case things get out of hand. At some point ace gives ryu a considering look and is just like “if you have a devil fruit that means you can’t swim either right?” and ryu is basically just like “lmao yeah” and then ace immediately attempts to drown him. Lots of murder attempts in ace’s department toget his older brother to be less of an idiot with little success lol(extra: ace tried to attack ryu earlier both to confirm that ryu has a devil fruit that would force him to use haki to hide it, and because he now knows that he CAN’T hurt ryu without haki and as thus can’t beat him and make him admit he’s awake without being good at haki.)” [chapter 8] 

“Small sabo lost his hat and goggles in the incident and while he doesn’t remember having them future sabo notices he looks uncomfortable and keeps touching his hair and head. Ace yells at him for it thinking he bandaging are bothering him and that he can’t touch them but little sabo just comments that something about it feels wrong. Luffy blurts our that he had a hat, like luffy does, But he doesn’t now ace begrudgingly mentions that they can’t get a new one in town. Future sabo doesn’t even hesitate and just plops his own hat onto his younger selves head. It clearly too big for him, and almost falls over his eyes but he grins up at future sabo and is like “wow!! Thank you! I’ll take care of it till I have one of my own” and creates a paradox like Luffys own hat. The footsteps younger sabo has yet to fill. This HAS to happen AFTER the talk where they explain that future and past sabo are both the same person, to give little sabo that pressure.” [chapter 9]

“(Right after this older sabo takes them down to the ocean so that they can play a little and desensitize themselves and immediately fucks himself over when he goes weak in the water bc he somehow fucking forgot his own devil fruit again and now even younger sabo is on his case about not letting him near the fucking ocean that little goddamn HYPOCRITE—) )” [for chapter 9]

“Ch 9 plan: they finally leave dawn island. Starts with the boys getting a haircut after training and luffy mentions how long it’s been since they’ve last needed a haircut, giving sabo and ace time to point out that it’s been 2 months now since ryu joined them, and that sabo was completely healed by now. The boys are now aware of the basics of haki, and while luffy hasnt awakened either yet ace and sabo both have a little bit of weak armament haki. (sabo won’t awaken observational haki until he gets his memories back) ryu tries to sneak off into the city to steal a boat but his brothers refuse to leave him behind and keep sneaking out after him, not wanting him to go alone and saying that since he’s been training them they’re clearly stronger and he needs to let them do this. Ryu eventually just lets it go because why the fuck not it’s a dream and they make him feel better. They get the boat out on open ocean and finally fucking sail out, cheering loudly, ryu struggling to make them all calm down but also not really trying. He’s happy as shit, and they’re all so excited and happy and sabo dips a hand into the waves and then smiles so fucking wide and tackles ryu so violently they both nearly tip into the water and it’s just very very good. “ [also for ch 9] 

** I flat out dont Have any outlining from before chapter 6, because i only started actually outling chapters after that. i tend to just sit down and Write up until i hit a plot point or writers block and then am forced to actually think it through and plan rather than letting it come naturally. thats also why the quality and editing is better in later chapters despite everything being written within the same time frame. 

besides entire chapter outlines, there are the scene specific phone notes like:

“(ADDED) Right after they leave dawn, when sabo is sure they’ve gotten enough of a head start, he calls Garp. He doesn’t say who he is, but that all of the boys are safe and happy with him and has them all talk into the phone to assure him that they’re fine. Garp is honestly just pissed off he doesn’t know who’s calling and when he asks sabo just laughs and says a disobedient brat before hanging up. “

“(ADDED) TO EXPAND ON CH 3: sabo gets offered the chance to go with dragon, and he hesitates on the offer to go through with his previous life with the family he’s made in the revolutionary again. He almost agrees, because the bought of losing them in this lifetime is near excruciating but reminds himself swiftly that it’s no place for his brothers and not what they’d really want, and he wants selfishly to be with them as long as he Can until he “inevitably” wakes up. The boys are visibly relieved by this, especially ace. (Sabo gets asked who he is by dragon, who wants to know more about the stranger with his son, but dragon has always been quicker to make connections no one guessed and he just smiled knowingly at sabo and tells him he’s sure the other will have no trouble finding them if he’s in need. Sabo in turn warns him to keep Kuma close, and to look for a slave girl named koala.)”

I have…. many of these. I have Many of Everything. 

finally, i have scene doodles. if i hit a bad writers block it usually helps me to sketch scenes or the character designs to regain my grip on what the hell is happening in the plot– Breach of Intention has character design sketches, pakcbond has MANY scene sketches, even some of my nsfw has some sketches. my wror skecthes arent Good of course, I am an art teacher for children and that means i am more often explaining the color wheel and brush techniques over drawing perfect human replicas– and i just dont really make a lot of fanart? ive never drawn sabo before but i sure have a bunch now. i wont include close ups because they genuinely suck but heres an example pic 

So… yeah thats about everything. this is a VERY long post and yet i only included like maybe ¼ or 1/5 of all the notes i have dbskhjgfkjadns lmk if anyone wants more (or notes for my Other stories, which contain NO WHERE the same absurd amount of shit that wror does.)

[battlestar-royco]

Same Anon. Oh man, I completely forgot about the Goodreads thing! Honestly, you'd think authors like her and Anne Rice would know that criticism doesn't have to be a bad thing and learn to accept it. I've never heard of her political views, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it was true either.

Yeah I mean given that the protagonist is literally named America, I…. inslslslslflg; I should’ve known. I’ve always found it very bizarre that some authors don’t know how to take criticism because a huuuuuge part of writing is humbling yourself and listening to feedback so you can become better. I’ve taken many classes where you literally just get silently grilled on your writing by the rest of your class for an entire hour or two. It’s not to toughen your skin or insult you; it’s to make sure you’re listening to people who genuinely want to help you and can offer a more distanced opinion. Afterward, it’s up to your own judgment to do what you want with the feedback, but generally, rejecting most of the criticism and being defensive is not the right response. That’s probably why I believe in death of the author so much. The intent of the author’s writing doesn’t matter if the reader gets something completely different out of what was written. If an author has to explain their meaning with thousands of words of meta on their own writing—as I’ve seen a few authors do before, none of them well—then maybe they weren’t that good of a writer in the first place.

There is a difference between editorial criticism, a negative review, and a hateful review. I feel like a crone saying this, but I read the review in question when the reviewer first posted it, and it’s still up on the first page of the book’s GR site. It was nowhere near hateful. I understand the impulse to defend oneself against negative reviews or people who you feel misinterpret your work, but I’ve been in fandom, YA circles, monitoring publishing, and reading up on archived fandom drama and discrimination for more than half my life at this point. Literally every single instance I have seen an author lash out at/make fun of/gaslight their readers, try to defend a bad writing decision, and/or write meta on their own work, it ends up badly for the author. The meta/defensive tweets/Tumblr post etc backs the author into an even smaller corner, and readers continue to pick apart the NEW thing they wrote, so the problem spawns. If they trash talk a reader, it’s even worse because those screenshots are forever babe, and the author looks like an asshole for talking shit about someone who spent time and money on their book. Even if an author tries to make a joke out of readers’ behavior, readers could still take offense and interpret it as the author making fun of fans with major respect and love for the author’s work. Imo, the most diplomatic and mature (and tbh, accepted) response is to take the L. If you don’t agree with the criticism, you can be the bigger person by not responding; if you think the critics are onto something, you can publicly apologize or acknowledge them and/or try to do better in your next work.

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Was SoKai forced? A look into the issues surrounding the pair

I want to preface this with while I have done some writing and scripting classes, I am in no way the next James Cameron or whatever. I’m just a girl giving her opinion.

To determine whether SoKai was forced or not, I think two aspects need to be looked into. One, was there implications that the pairing would occur throughout the series or was it a last minute ‘match the remainders’ type ditch? And secondly, was the development there to expect this outcome?

I think we can all agree that the answer to the first question is a clear yes, there were signs from the first part of the first game that the game developers intended SoKai to be cannon and impliedly end game. I’m not here to argue that because whether I ship it or not, I don’t think it is arguable. The second question is where the topic gets more tricky. 

In my honest opinion, SoKai has the potential to be a great love story, but the writing makes it fall short. To me personally, even though I ship both, the reason SoKai feels less natural than SoRiku is because a lot of things that feel like they are vital for growth and really establishing the relationship as more than a crush happen off screen and/or are quickly glossed over. A large part of this has to do with the developers giving Kairi the short end of the stick and keeping her in the whole ‘damsel in distress’ stereotype in general to be honest. 

With SoRiku, we get emotional moments of “I looked everywhere for you” and Riku literally stepping in front of a bunch of heartless that just ‘killed’ their friends to protect Sora while telling him that Riku doesn’t believe that Sora believes that Sora is useless. We also get small fun little moments like Sora saying he needs to call Riku to tell him about something that reminded Sora of him. Hell, we even had Riku call Sora’s name and Sora randomly show up when there was no reason to believe Sora would show up in KH3. Like that’s some gay shit right there. 

When it comes to SoKai, in my opinion, because Kairi as a character is paid dirt, we also miss out on moments as deep as SoRiku have had. Sure, we had Sora begging for Kairi’s life in KH2 and the letters Kairi writes to Sora/for herself, but a lot of these moments lack the communication that the SoRiku moments have. Like when Riku jumped in front of those heartless, we get Sora’s shocked (and in my opinion somewhat guilty) reaction as he realises Riku is still there and willing to give up everything because he believes in Sora. Likewise, we see the guilt in Riku when he realises the pain he caused Sora. In comparison, when we do get SoKai moments together, a lot of it is a hug/glance before moving on. And the sad thing is that I feel like we did have these deeper moments at the start of the game. Little things like Kairi telling Sora she has concerns over how Riku was behaving and her half joking about just the two of them taking the raft and going felt like it was building up a proper, long lasting romantic relationship over just a crush.

But at some point, it personally feels like the writers just went “well, we’ve told them they want to share a paopu fruit, we don’t need to do any more to develop the relationship” and forgot that people change, relationship change and time doesn’t stand still for anyone (yes this is meant to be ironic given Kairi was sent to a place with no concept of time in KH3). From my understanding, with the exception of Birth By Sleep, the whole Kingdom Hearts franchise is meant to take place give or take during the period of SoKai being 13 - 15. While I obviously cannot talk for everyone, in that time period of my life romantically I dated the boy I liked for most my childhood and thought I was going to marry for a year, broke up with him, dated another two people shortly and had a crush on another person. And hey, maybe I’m a ho, but the point still stands that a lot happens in that time without the ptsd inducing shit these two went through and 15/16 year old me was a vastly different person than 13 year old me. And that’s fine, it doesn’t mean that Sora and Kairi can’t be childhood sweethearts. But I want to see that the way they have changed still compliments each other and that it’s not just them relying on nostalgia and conversations we’re supposed to assume happened. 

And that is the predominate issue I have with Kairi’s arc in KH3. After (from memory) not having an on screen discussion with Sora after KH2 about how things have changed/how they feel (specifically a response from him about the letter she wrote) and where they stand, she’s chucked into a situation where she doesn’t even interact with Sora (or anyone outside Axel) directly for most the game. The worst part about it is that especially in KH3, there are some moments where it literally feels like it’d make more sense for Sora to talk to Kairi than the other characters. Sora feeling frustrated at having to start again and feeling weaker than the others? Sounds a lot like how Kairi would feel being at the start of her journey. Sora’s feelings on Roxas? Probably a good match for Kairi’s feelings about Namine. Like there’s so many intimate things that could help establish them as a couple and make them closer. Instead, the first proper interaction SoKai has leads up to the point I’m sure most shippers have waited for where Kairi pulls out the paopu fruit... and Sora is surprised? Like my dude, you may die tomorrow and you’re shocked and need it explained to you that the love of your life wants to be a part of your life forever? It’s just so awkwardly written and once again in my opinion underdeveloped given the lack of on screen interaction since KH2 before that. The conversation then moves towards them both talking about protecting each other and I was like ‘Yes! Finally some communication about how they feel!’. I want to preface that part that while I would have adored for Kairi to be a kickass keyblade welding badass who slammed Xehanort down herself, I do not need that in a female character for me to love her. What bugs me is that in this game’s trailers and with how the place without magic works, it heavily implied that Kairi was going to be a ‘stronger’ character than ever in the physical sense, but her character doesn’t even feel like a step up from KH2. Don’t get me wrong, I think the “Kairi is Sora’s light” scene was done very well just like her transforming him back in the first game and is a good way to show rather than tell us that they have a strong connection, and once again, I do not need her to be physically strong to like her, but advertising that she is going to be physically stronger then having her fall into the same ‘damsel in distress’ trope was disappointing. Like I could even understand her having to die, but at least have Saix or Xehanort pull a dirty move on one of the others and her dying trying to defend them or Xehanort making her fight rather than just smashing her into pieces. Also, this has nothing to do with SoKai, but the fact that Kairi’s murderer got to go to heaven within the hour that he murdered her was wack af tbh.

And then we get to the ending. And I get at this point, ya’ll probably saying “God this grinch ass prick really just wants to rip everything apart, why can’t she just say she hates KH3 and go?” but I don’t care. This ending was literally the biggest let down to the Kingdom Hearts fandom in general, but especially SoKai shippers in my opinion. Before you go breathing down my neck about me not liking bittersweet endings, that’s not the issue. The issue is that once again, SoKai had a chance to have a big emotional moment and potentially growth along with us as viewers getting some clarity over what happened, but instead, they just brushed it over with the only explanation being a vague “You may not come back” from Mickey. And I’m sorry, I’m not taking ‘there wasn’t enough time/space on the disk’ as an excuse when we had to fight Xehanort multiple times and when the Keyblade Graveyard felt as dragged out as it did. Also, once again not SoKai related, but it still feels out of character that Riku just allowed Sora to go alone like that given how much he loves both Sora and Kairi. Likewise, him and the others letting Kairi cry alone in the ending frustrated me to no end. 

But here’s the thing; even if it doesn’t fully fix everything, the developers could have done one little thing to place importance on SoKai’s relationship. All it would have taken was an extra scene where Kairi says something like “Given we shared the papou fruit, I am the only one who can find Sora/his soul” and either 1. (and preferably tbh) sent her instead of Riku to find him or 2. If they really wanted to include Riku, have Kairi go along with him. Or hey, better yet 3. Have Riku be the one who died instead and have it end with Sora going to leave and then Kairi showing up saying she refuses to be left behind because Riku was her friend too and have Kingdom Hearts 4 (or whatever title is coming next) have them as teammates and switchable playable characters. Because power couple teaming up to find their best friend? Count me in.

Anyway, this is turning into a “Why KH3 was a disappointment story wise” post, but to answer the original question, no, I don’t think SoKai was forced. However, I also don’t think that the writers have really put the time, effort and development into the relationship that it really deserves given it is meant to be the main cannon end game ship, much as Kairi does not as the original main female. Given that SoRiku does get that attention, it often feels like SoKai (and platonically RiKai but that’s a discussion for another day) pales a lot. So while I never thought SoRiku would be cannon, I can understand the arguments that SoKai feels less genuine and heteronormative given the difference in development. And I hate saying because like I said, I could see SoKai being one of the great love stories if written well. 

Given SoKai is still set to be end game, my hope is that in future games we get this development and SoKai and Kairi as an individual gets the chance to shine the way main cannon ships and characters deserve. But I guess all we can do is wait and see.

[unclesamwilson]

this is a list of things i liked and didn’t like about endgame which i wrote the morning after i saw endgame

STUFF I LIKED

- falcon cap

- ant man!!! what a blessing. he was v funny i laughed so much it was so refreshing. 

- gamora and nebula!!!! what a surprise and what a genuine pleasure that marvel continues to impress me with this sister relationship!!!!!!!!

- i kiiiind of liked bruce. i thought his character was pretty believable. like his blase attitude ... considering he’s never been known for his strength of will, and he’s been through so much shit, i believed that was *a* way he might handle this shitty situation. bruce and the hulk are both known to run away from problems, and he definitely didn’t do that this time, which was nice. but we also never got to see a true The Incredible Hulk moment which was a downer :/

- the whole sequence in 2012 new york. loved the the cap v cap fight. america’s ass was one of the moments that i was like “is this a crackfic”. thor reviving tony with mjolnir?? also loki just picking up the tesseract and bouncing was completely hysterical to me

- f a l c o n c a p

- the final battle! that was so much fun. i cried when sam said “on your left,” don’t even. and then when the wakandans walked through the portal with the sunset, my cinematic heart grew two sizes, like god, avengers movies never really impress me visually but when they do they do, right???

- VALKYRIES PEGASUS

- CAP USING MJOLNIR

- loved captain marvel

- spider-man being precious and also badass AND THE IRON SPIDWR BYE

- although it meant all my fav characters got sidelined for basically the whole movie, i appreciated the focus on the original avengers. i’m a sucker for a plot that comes full circle, and i’m a sucker for parallels, and also—this movie was SO much more focused, streamlined, and coherent than infinity war; it wasn’t busy or exhausting like it could have been. the addition of ant-man and a couple guardians was appropriate and they were some of the best characters so ... nice.

- “is that everyone?” “what, you wanted more?” Cue me, to my husband sitting next to me in the theater, “uh YEAH i wanted more, she’s still not BACK YET” boy i was so heated when carol just left for the whole movie but when she came back it was so worth it

- the opening with hawkeye was cute, his daughter was cute. i think i pissed off the stranger next to me in the theater because like 3 seconds into that scene (and the movie) i whispered “oh she is gonna be dust” and my husband snorted and the guy made some huffy noises and i was sitting there thinking “it wasn’t a spoiler it was common sense lol”

- at the end steve started to get emotional with bucky and i knew he was about to be a Bastard registered trademark, and i turned to ads and said “when hulk tries to bring him back it’s just gonna be the shield” which i think would have been very cool visually and all and it would be clear that steve just went to a new timeline, right? but i was so thrilled by his convo with sam ... they were so precious ........ that was worth it.

- (i didn’t HATE steve’s ending. it felt kind of tacked on and unnecessarily complicated, but it was also the obvious Happy Ending that they’ve been hinting at for like 8 movies with cap. the writers talked their way around their own definitions of time travel a little too much to make it work lol... but it was a very kind ending for steve, sam, bucky, and AU peggy.)

- f a l c o n c a p

- OH FUCK!!!! SAM AND BUCKY AT THE FUNERAL!!!! AHAHAHAHAHA

- actually everyone at the funeral was touching. i was touched. (and sam and bucky were TOUCHING *eyes emoji*.) pepper is v precious and Happy talking to peppers daughter made me WEEP. i mean, now i have to live in a world where tony stark is some kind of barfy fanboy messiah, but like how is that different than before l o l

- i kiiinda liked the one “girl power” thing in the final battle? mostly because i like all those characters, and i like seeing them work together. i always like seeing women work together. but it was also sooooooo hokey and like ... a bit pandering. i just want to tell the writers/producers “you don’t get to claim women’s rights after the last 12 garbage years ok” (and also after throwing ANOTHER woman in the soul stone pit fjdkfjg) 

- the avengers dynamic for a lot of this movie was, finally, a team dynamic, and they worked together and at times even had fun together and it was so much more fun to watch than the last ....... every avengers movie including civil war. i mean, it wasn’t perfect throughout. and also tony was a huge douche canoe for awhile, but hey, in the end he wasn’t a bad teammate and also i never have to watch him again

STUFF I DIDN’T LIKE

- thor, just ,, pretty much entirely, but mostly the Fat Jokes. i think his arc could have been ok if he just ...... wasn’t fat. EDIT: my husband actually liked thor a lot in this movie, and he brought up some valid points, which i kinda want to make another post about. but this post is my initial reactions and in general i was just not happy with thor whenever he was on screen.

- particularly thor berating a child over the internet on a video game

- thanos continues to be boring, but there wasn’t as much of him in this movie as i expected, t h a n k

- didn’t like tony stark at all in the first half of the movie or more. what an absolutely unappealing dick. what was with his tantrum after he got back to earth?? and ripping out his IV and throwing a fit and blaming captain america? like this isn’t fun to watch, and it hasn’t been fun to watch in the last 5 avengers movies either lollll.

- tony stark’s family was off-putting for me. it was just weird to watch. i think this was a personal thing though. like individually i love pepper and the little girl but it was just ... i think it was very unexpected to me, and hard to wrap my head around

- giant plot hole where thanos just left his timeline like ok lol

- you’re trying to tell me the incredible hulk was trapped ... under a building?

- didn’t really care about hawkeye sry 

- black widow is so boring to me at this point im just tired of that actor and that character and the way she’s been portrayed for a decade. objectively, her involvement in this movie worked well. subjectively, every time she speaks her voice annoys me

in summary the first half had me worried it was gonna be Another Avengers Movie but the second half i basically forgot all the dumb stuff and really had fun watching it. just ....... super entertained. loved all the parallels and full circles and cheesiness. when they gave sam the shield i think that’s the first time i’ve ever been surprised by a marvel movie and ..... boy.

[youhearstatic]

10 Questions Every Fic Writer Secretly Wants to be Asked

I’m just gonna answer these because why not this is my blog I’ll do what I want, you’re not my Captain!

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite and why? It’s not finished but in the untitled Barry POV fic (aka the ‘fic i wasn’t gonna write’) there is a scene I’m so insanely proud of it’s really killing me to not just share it now. I’m probably 40k in and maybe... halfway done? It’s hard to tell. But gosh, I just love this scene so much.

The rest of these I’m just gonna answer for A Thousand Tiny Moments because it’s complete and I’m proud of it. Before that the longest thing I’d ever shared was probably around 2k words so this felt like A Big Deal.

2. Which scene was your favorite to write in A Thousand Tiny Moments ? The party scene at the beginning was the first I wrote for the fic and it was so much fun writing Lup as grumpy and hostile and possibly a little drunk.

(Putting the rest under a readmore because this is long and already very self indulgent.)

3. Which part of A Thousand Tiny Moments was hardest to write? I struggled a lot with the part where she brings him soup because there’s a lot going on there but mostly it’s on Barry’s end of things. (It’s a key piece of who Barry is in the Barry POV fic.) But it’s also part of Lup’s journey. It was hard to find a balance between being Lup-centric in what (in my head) is a Barry-centric scene.

4. If you could change anything in A Thousand Tiny Moments, what would it be? I’m really bummed it didn’t occur to me to put in a Grabthar’s Hammer reference for one of Lup’s made up deities.

5. Did you make an outline for A Thousand Tiny Moments ? Did you stick to it? No outline but I mean... the major plot points of Stolen Century kind of did that for me? The party scene at the beginning was just free form writing on a vague AU idea. Pretty much all the Taako & Lup scenes just appeared magically. Taako pretty much kicked down the door and marched himself in. None of the Taako moments were planned.

6. Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in A Thousand Tiny Moments? The scene of Barry cooking was added. I wrote it for the Barry fic before the Lup fic was even an idea. As soon as I was done I was like “well, I like this but it has to be Lup’s POV to work so it doesn’t fit here.” I stuck it in a drafts folder and forgot about it until I was halfway through with the Lup story. I was excited to use it because it feels genuine. It also felt like a good representation of why she loves him. It's so easy see why Barry loves Lup. As @femme-fatigue wrote so eloquently, she is “so fierce and yet so kind” which is just the PERFECT way to describe Lup and the perfect explanation for why Barry (or the audience or anyone) loves her.  (Also, seriously check out that comic at the link because it’s both literally and figuratively gorgeous.)

But I think Lup’s love for Barry isn’t as clear to people. My belief is that Barry isn’t just the lover, he is love. I see Barry as the one who loves everyone on the crew so much, cares so much about their safety and happiness, that his own anxieties and his fears of his shortcomings are forced down as he tries to do everything possible to provide that safety and happiness for them. Barry pushes himself to do better, work harder, not because he thinks he can - in fact despite his belief that he can’t - but because that’s what his crew, his family deserve. So that cooking scene just felt exactly like something Barry would do. And Lup fighting down her impulse to take over and instead just sitting back and watching him and trying to understand and appreciate his motives? That felt as important as the more directly canon scene with the robot. Loving someone when they are at their strongest is easy, loving someone when they are trying their damnedest at something they aren’t good at? Seeing the good in their effort? That’s love.

7. Who was your favorite character to write in A Thousand Tiny Moments? I hope I did okay writing Lup. I love her but she’s not as fun to write but I’m second guessing so much, terrified of not doing her justice. For this fic? Taako was so so so much fun. I find him equally intimidating to write because his voice is so specific and well represented and I don’t want to fail that either. But every time he appeared in this fic it was like he just walked in and did the things. There was no planning or thinking, he just happened, each time. It felt like it had very little to do with me if that makes sense.

8. Which came first, the title or the fic? The title didn’t come until editing was almost done and I went “oh shit, I have to name this thing!”

9. Which idea came to you first in A Thousand Tiny Moments? I think the elevator scene was the first in my head. My original idea was - and this is what I called it in my files right up until the day I posted it - ‘bad hookup AU’. The idea was they hooked up or almost hooked up and a lot of things stacked up to make the situation look really awful. So then instead of starting at zero for their Stolen Century time, Lup would start off kind of hating Barry. It didn’t really go that way, of course. It turned out to be much more about Lup’s growth and changes as a person both on her own (as opposed to half of Taako & Lup) and as a person with a found family that wasn’t going anywhere. I really loved Lup before I started but I fell even more in love with her while imagining this Lup just before being chosen for the Starblaster and how she changed during the Stolen Century, especially from the moment Magnus regenerates at the end of cycle one.

10. What are some facts readers may not know about A Thousand Tiny Moments? Okay, so originally my reason for Taako daring Lup to go to this party was he just wanted her out of the way for an evening because he had a date but was kinda being a little shady about it? Like maybe whoever it was, he was too embarrassed to tell Lup he was going out with him or something? I don’t know, I didn’t put much thought into it and I didn’t worry about it because the important thing was that Lup was at the party and Taako wasn’t. I wanted Lup a little off balance, wanted her in her own head not hanging out with her twin. 

And then that scene in the dorm room happened. Taako came in and he crawled into bed with Lup and he was quiet and vulnerable and I swear I was typing it and just shocked that it was happening. Because it dawned on me... “Ohhhh, he sent her to the party because he wanted her to do something that would get them kicked out. He doesn’t think they’ll be picked and he’d rather they got kicked out have to deal with being rejected.” 

It’s probably silly but it felt like a moment of connection between me and this character. Like I felt I should apologize to him for thinking his motive was so shallow. 

Those kinds of moments - where you’re writing and the story does things you didn’t realize it was doing - are The Best Things Ever. 

Also: the unfinished Barry POV fic is kind of the match to A Thousand Tiny Moments. It will be - for the Stolen Century portion at least - a very similar story. The key scenes will be there but slightly different. Beyond just the thoughts of a different character, it’s also like they perceive/remember things a little differently the same way two people wouldn’t tell you the plot of a movie in quite the same way.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephen king’s ‘it’: a rant-review

Alternatively titled: an almost verbatim account of the 12-page rant I wrote in my diary after being driven to a catatonic rage by the 1100+ page monstrosity that was IT.

WARNINGS: spoilers, blood and gore, violence and general icky stuff, death, suicide, demeaning descriptions of women, both adults and underage, mentions of child pornography, my two brain cells trying to make me sense of this damn book

I fell in hate with IT the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once. The beginning reeled me in- it was great, that perfect first sentence all writers strive for- it’s got a compelling start, and it gradually gathers momentum onwards. The writing’s good, nice diction, nice use of words, a bit too much exposition, but what’s a few hundred more pages of ultimately worthless crap if it keeps you engaged?

And then it starts to go downhill.

The book’s too long. I got really, really bored by around page 800, because the book was dragging on for way too long and there was no sign of it ending anytime soon. There’s so much extra crap you could’ve straight up cut out from the story and it wouldn’t’ve made any difference to the final outcome.

The back-and-forth between the past (1957) and the present (1985) was pretty interesting- I much preferred the past accounts to the present ones, admittedly.

There’s a fuckload of characters the book could’ve done without. Way too many people my lizard brain couldn’t keep track of; yeah, sure, you can include the people Pennywise made a meal of by name- but you could easily lop off a few pages’ worth descriptions of characters that don’t play a bigger role than becoming clown chow in the course of the story.

The Losers are pretty much your everyday group of misfits: you’ve got the ringleader William ‘Stuttering Bill’ Denbrough, Stan Uris, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh and Mike Hanlon- alias the self-insert, the Jew, the guy who makes offensive jokes but gets away with it because ‘that’s just the way he is!’, one of the few characters in this entire book that I don’t want to punch the living daylights out of, the hypochondriac, the tiddies and the black guy.

It’s painfully obvious that Bill’s a self-insert. Everyone and their grandma know that the moment there’s a character in a book who’s an author, they’re going to be the self-insert. Middle-aged cis het white male author? Now, whoever could that possibly be based upon, Mr. King?

And hey, despite all my mediocrity, I’m guilty of doing the same. I’ll write a story about someone who likes to write, and then suddenly the character’s a woman with dark hair and brown eyes and horrible myopia.

And yet, there’s something about Bill that makes it impossible for me to like him. I liked him well enough as a kid; he had a very Peter Pan role with the rest of the lost boys + person with boobs, and everything he did was a bit too perfect (because Big Bill- yes, they really called him that- had ALL the answers) for me, but I’m willing to let that slide.

(I’m not, I’m really not. Please give me flawed characters, not Characters with One Singular Flaw Who Do Everything Else Perfectly.)

I don’t think calling Bill a Mary Sue would be too far of a stretch. Also, he cheated on his wife with Beverly- big surprise there, I called it way before it happened- and characters who cheat will never be redeemable for me.

And then we have Stanley Uris. It’s been a couple of months since I last read IT and I’ve already forgotten what greater purpose Stan served for the story. I might be wrong- remember, lizard brain, goldfish memory- but I honest to god cannot, for the life of me, remember what Stan meant for the plot. Except, well, to die a couple pages in.

(According to my quick Google search, his suicide was sacrificial. As a wise woman once said, “Wait… what.”)

Richie’s actually not a character I hate, despite what I said about him. He’s comic relief for the most part at the beginning, and there are loads of things he says that would immediately cause #RichieTozierIsOverParty to trend on Twitter had he existed in 2020, but he’s an interesting character all the same. He’s got some amount of depth to him, more personality outside of being just another kid who encountered Pennywise.

I have a soft spot for Ben, I’ll admit. I’ve been the Designated Ugly Fat Friend of every friend group I’ve been in, so maybe I’m a bit biased, but I find him a lot more likable than a lot of the other characters I encountered in the book.

About Eddie, I’m not actually sure what there is to write. I remember more about him than I do about poor Stan, but aside from Eddie marrying a woman who’s a caricature of his overprotective mother, there’s not much that comes to mind. I’ve heard that Eddie and Richie had some #moments- my dumbass didn’t notice while reading, I’ve read IT only once and I’m awful at reading between the lines- though the boys more or less ogled Beverly all the damn time (poor girl couldn’t even wear a pair of shorts, but I’ll get to her later) so I hadn’t really considered the possibility of them being anything other than Raging Heterosexuals.

Beverly is straight out of r/menwritingwomen- if I took a shot every time her breasts were brought up, I’d have passed out midway through the book. I find it interesting (no, I don’t, I find it demeaning) how every time there’s a female lead with ‘flaming red hair’ in a group with mostly men, she’s described as this fierce, bold, brave Bad Bitch whose actual Badness doesn’t get half as much as screen time as her boobs. And I get that Beverly’s attractive, you don’t have to constantly remind us that BEVERLY MARSH IS FUCKING HOT OKAY GET THAT IN YOUR HEAD SHE’S A GODDAMN SEX SYMBOL WITH HER FIERY HAIR AND VIRIDESCENT ORBS AND GIGANTIC ASS AND BOOBS SO BIG THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE CALLED UDDERS SHE’S THE HOTTEST WOMAN YOU CAN IMAGINE ONLY LIKE A GAZILLION TIMES HOTTER DON’T YOU DARE FORGET THAT BEVERLY MARSH IS HOT (DON’T FORGET THE GIGANTIC BOOBS).

I think we got that the first time around.

And the constant sexualization isn’t just adult Beverly. As if every man in her vicinity staring at her wasn’t enough to drive the point home, we are treated to delights the likes of eleven-year-old (!) Beverly’s ‘budding breasts’; ‘milky white skin of her flat stomach’; ‘her long, coltish legs’; ‘shorts barely long enough to cover her panties’ (which were yellow, in case you were wondering about the underwear choice of a literal child); amongst other lovely descriptions of someone who literally just passed the fifth grade. She’s sexualized by her own father, and I know those things happen in the real world, but what with all the sexualization we already have of Beverly, it doesn’t sit right with me. I think it’s just creepy and unnecessary.

Also, cis woman to cis woman out here, but those ‘sweet pains of womanhood’, am I right?

Mike’s the final one in the trinity of Losers I don’t hate with burning passion/completely forgot about. The fact that he has such a big role in the story but we don’t meet him properly until we’re hundreds of pages in confused me, but he’s an okay enough guy. He didn’t seem like too much of a Token to me, but maybe I missed it. His backstory’s pretty interesting, too. I would’ve preferred him as a main character- his interludes, though unnecessary and adding more weight to an already obese book, were intriguing- and I liked him better than Bill, sue me.

And then we have the Big Bad, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, It, whatever the fuck it is. After all the terror, the Teenage Werewolf, the Crawling Eye, finding out that ‘It’ was essentially a pregnant, mutant Aragog… I can’t be the only one who went, “That’s it? That’s It?”

After Pennywise being Its most common form, it was jaunting, but in a bad way, to find out that It was just some Daddy (Mommy?) Long Legs who was Fucking Shit Up. An invertebrate, a measly invertebrate, was Its ‘Earth Form’? Was there some symbolism, some subtext there that I missed before Pennywise embodied the spirit of the Other Mother from fucking Coraline?

Apparently not, according to yet another one of my quick Google searches. I tried to see if there was any sort of hidden meaning behind the cosmic clusterfuck in IT, but came up short. Maybe I watched too much BEN 10 in my Youth for aliens to scare me.

I’m gonna get really nitpicky here, but: judging by the huge fern forests the kids saw during the arrival of It, It must have arrived at some point in the Paleozoic Era. To my understanding, It is essentially a Boggart-Dementor hybrid; It manifests into your fears and feeds on that. But humans didn’t appear until the Cenozoic Era, if my memory serves me correct. How did It survive until then? Does It have the ability to feed off of animals and their fears? So many questions, Mr. King, and so little answers.

Pennywise was sinister enough as a killer clown. Giving It a completely different ‘final form’ was unnecessary. No one cares, Mr. King, just finish the damn book. Some ideas are best left unwritten.

Henry Bowers was genuinely one of the best-written antagonists I’ve ever read about. He evoked a visceral rage within me, but I was also downright terrified whenever he popped up, because that motherfucker was unhinged. He was even better of a villain than It, because It killed to survive. Henry was insane.

Also, Mr. King, too much blood. He really dumped it in bucketloads- the first few times were scary, but afterwards, whenever ‘dripping blood’, ‘pools of blood’, etc. came up, it felt contrived and like a tacky fairground horror house.

The Losers’ final battles with It (both as children and as adults) confused me. Maybe I’m too much of a simple-minded fool because some of that cosmic galactic science-fiction bullshit went right over my head. And I don’t mean grazing the top of my hair, I mean several thousand miles above it.

I won’t go too deep into it because I’m still not sure what happened exactly, but it came off like a last-minute addition to the book, because it just doesn’t fit in with the mood of the rest of the story. At most, I expected some contrived demonic exorcist bullshit on par with The Conjuring films- instead, I got some weird outer space (?) opera. I’m confused too, dude, but let’s just roll with it.

I didn’t get the metaphorical tongue-biting; I could only imagine a repulsive French kiss. Who the fuck was the turtle? Why did it choke on its own vomit? What were the deadlights? What the fuck went on in those last few scenes? Am I just stupid- don’t answer that.

And then we have The Scene. The biggest fucking yikes I’ve ever yiked. I’ve read my fair share of fanfiction with scenes of questionable morality, but this was just… ugh.

It’s child pornography, that’s all there is to it. I refuse to believe that Stephen King ‘didn’t think too much of it’ while writing, and I’m disgusted by people who say, ‘it’s just one scene, it’s not a big deal’. That’s easily the worst thing I’ve ever read in a published book, and it amazes me I the worst kind of way when I see people who think it’s excusable. It’s not, it’s really not.

For the people I’ve seen arguing that ‘it’s just a couple of paragraphs’… that doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. You might argue that it has some deep metaphorical connotations about ‘the Losers growing up’ and ‘Beverly taking her sexuality into her own hands’… they’re eleven, you cunt. They’re literal fucking children. Sure, they’ve been through crap no one, not even adults, have been through. And that sucks. But how does that justify an orgy between ELEVEN YEAR OLDS?

And we get a nice little tidbit about the boys’ dick sizes; thank you, Mr. King, I really wanted to know which fifth grader had the biggest penis. The constant sexualization of child-Beverly was bad enough without that scene- that was just the nail in the coffin.

To sum it up: the writing’s good, the pacing’s geriatric, the characters are horrible, the story’s meh, and I’ll probably never read it unless I’m at gunpoint. On second thought, maybe not even then. Stephen King can suck my dick.

[lighteyed]

love letters ❥ peter parker

summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.

word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)

   Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was. 

   Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been. 

    While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.

    He wrote. 

    He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did. 

   Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her. 

   “Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?” 

    Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully. 

   “Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.” 

   Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.” 

    May smiled wistfully. “I do.” 

    “And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks. 

    That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger. 

   “Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up. 

   “Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.” 

    “Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.” 

    Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.  

    Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-” 

    “No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew. 

   Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow. 

    “Do I?” He was practically sweating. 

     “I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.” 

   She called me cute. 

   “Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?” 

   Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint. 

   You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly. 

    “Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.

   “You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”   

    “Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?” 

    “You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.” 

    “Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”

    “I’m not much of a writer.”

    So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny. 

   Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much. 

   “It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?” 

   “Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”  

   You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy. 

   “Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left. 

   Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room. 

   “I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him. 

   He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him. 

    “Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him. 

     He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting. 

    “That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right. 

    “Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting. 

   Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life. 

   You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes. 

   “I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected. 

   He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”

   He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s. 

    He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.” 

    Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.

[jasperrollswrites]

Barracuda Street

Another story from quite a while back, and better than the previous story in my opinion. It was originally going to be a 10-part story in which a young man became progressively more monstrous with each cigar he smoked - the plan I wrote down at the time would’ve had it going some really weird places. But, my procrastination got the better of me, and I never wrote the follow up chapters, so this is all there is. A writer I admire and took quite a bit of inspiration from recently complimented it, so it must still be kind of good.

Jeremiah’s mother always told him to never go down Barracuda street, and for 19 years, Jeremiah obeyed. And then one day, he disobeyed...and everything changed.

———————

I used to be a nice kid. You wouldn't believe it, lookin' at me now, but when I was a young'un, I was a little angel. I did my homework, finished my chores, went to church, and always listened to what my momma said. And one of the things she always said was that I should never go anywhere near Barracuda Street. Even though it was the quickest way back home, my momma always told me never to go through there, no matter the situation. Even if I was late home, even if there was somethin' I REALLY needed to tell her, never ever go through Barracuda Street.

Once, as she was puttin' me to bed, I bothered to ask her why. I don't know what it was. She'd always kept me on a tight leash, but something about her almost constant lectures about me never goin' near that place must have...ah...how do you say it? "Piqued my intellectual curiosity"...or what little of it I had. I'd never questioned her like that before, and when I did...boy, she wasn't at all sure how to react. I'd always just been a good boy, taken everything she said at first glance. So she took a deep breath, and turned to me.

"No, momma."

"Well, you did. And he was a good boy, just like you. He always did his homework, finished all his chores, went to church, and he listened to me." She gave a wistful sigh, remembering this brother I never knew I had. "But I never told him not to go near Barracuda Street."

"Why, momma?" I asked.

"Because, back then, I didn't know how dangerous Barracuda Street was. And one day, he decided to take go through it. I'd never told him not to. It wasn't against the rules. And that was when I lost him."

"You lost him?"

Momma nodded solemnly. "Some men, some bad men, they came to him, and they seemed nice enough. But they started fillin' his head with all these bad ideas. Fillin' him with sin. He started to disobey. He became a bad kid. I lost him. One day, he went to Barracuda Street, and he never came back."

Well, I was shakin' in my jammies by this point. As far as I was concerned, Barracuda Street was hell itself. "He never came back?" I whispered.

"I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since then." Momma told me. "That was 14 years ago. And when I had you, Jeremiah, I swore that I'd never let the same thing happen to you. So that's why you don't go near Barracuda Street. Okay?"

"Yes, momma." I whispered.

I was only 8 years old, then. But in time, I grew up. I got older, I learnt more, but I was always devoted to my momma. And I always remembered that story whenever I saw Barracuda Street. Over time, I began to believe that it was made up, that I'd never had a brother, that it was just somethin' she said to spook me, but I got why. It was a scary place, full o' dem gangster types. If I'd gone through there when I was just a little innocent boy, I would've gone exactly the same way as that imaginary brother o' mine.

I grew up, takin' after my pop. He was a short fella, and so was my momma, so I was sorta average too. Just a neat little 5 foot 3. I always kept my muddy brown hair straight and well kept, and I always dressed as smart as I could for my work. It was a little laborious, so just a white shirt and some grey shorts were good enough. I kept myself clean as I could.

And then I turned 19. It was my birthday, but I was still just as dumb and blindly trusting of my momma's word than ever. I'd spent a night out with summa my work friends, goin' to a swing party, but I left early. I wanted to be home with momma before 11. They'd made fun of me, callin' me momma's boy, and they were right. I was a momma's boy, but I was happy to be one. I made my way through the dark streets. The city was a different place at night, and I didn't want to be out too long. I'd been walkin' for some time, when I finally got to the corner of Barracuda Street. I checked my watch. It was 11:50.

The route I usually took would get me home in half an hour. But if I went down that street, I could be home in just 10. I was sure momma would understand. I could just take a quick run through the place and be gone. Besides, I was a grown man. I was sure I could handle myself.

Boy...I was wrong.

I was walking down, about halfway when I heard a little "Psst." come from an alley on my right. Immediately, I sped up.

"Hey. Hey, where ya goin'?" A voice like slick oil came from behind me. I turned. There was a short fella with jet black hair, wearing a sharp white suit, grinnin' at me.

"N-Nowhere, sir." I stammered. "I just want to get home, thank you." I turned away, and walked right into another guy. Someone a good, 3, 4 inches taller than me was standin' in front of me, dressed to the nines in an all black, suit, the polar opposite of his friend behind me. I tried to back away, but he grabbed my shoulder with a big hand.

"Hey, kid. You should watch where you're walkin'." A low growl rumbled from the big guy.

"Hey, hey, hey, he's okay." The grinning guy behind me walked over and put a hand on the big fella. "Don't scare him off. We don't want him thinking this is a bad place, do we?"

"Yeah, I guess not. But you better watch it." He said to me, letting go. I took my chance and began to continue on my way home.

"Hey, kid, where ya goin? Sit a while, why don't ya?" The white suited fella ran up behind me, putting a casual hand on my shoulder.

"I, I'm just heading home from a party. I'd rather be back before 11, thank you." I blurted out, trying to just get away as quick as I could.

"A party? What party? Why'd you leave so early?" The guy said. He seemed genuinely interested.

"Oh...uh...it's, just my 19th birthday. Nothing special." I replied.

The big guy spoke up in his low grumble of a voice. "It's ya birthday? Why didn't ya say so? We should treat ya."

"Yeah," his friend agreed. "Get 'im one o' them cigars, Benny. The special ones." 'Benny' nodded, turning away and going down an alley.

"I...I don't smoke." I said, nervously.

"Well, then you're not livin'!" the smooth talker said, as he guided me onto the steps outside someone's house, and sat me down. "Cigars are one o' this world's finest pleasures. You'll love it, trust me." He sat down next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, like we'd been best friends for life. "What's ya name?"

"J...Jeremiah. Jeremiah Fitz."

"Jeremy, eh? That's an okay name."

"Jeremiah."

"I'm Finn. The big guy is Benny. Speak of the devil." I looked up. Benny was there, with a box in hand. It was really fancy lookin', like something you'd keep a special treasure in. He opened the lid, revealing ten cigars, perfectly slotted in the box. Finn picked one out, and Benny closed the box, sittin' next to me as Finn cut the tip off the end of the cigar with a switchblade he'd pulled from his jacket pocket, and held it towards me

"I...I really don't smoke." I whispered.

"Then no better time like the present, Jerry." Finn announced, sticking it in my open mouth. It was bigger than I could've guessed, feeling bizarre in my mouth.

"M..My name is Jer...Jeremiah." I struggled to get the words out around the cigar. I wanted to spit it out, but I was scared Benny would take it a very wrong way. I heard the sound of a match catching light, and looked at Finn, to see him lighting the end of the cigar.

"Now, what you do, Jerry, is you breath in, and let it get in ya mouth. Since this is ya first time, try not to do it too much." Benny started. "Just breath in a little bit, and then breathe out. If ya want, you can breathe out through ya nose. You get a better taste, that way."

I slowly put my fingers around the cigar, and drew in a tiny breath...and instantly, I took the cigar out, coughin' and hackin'. It tasted like shit, to me.

"Hey, you ain't gonna get no taste coughin' it out." Benny said.

"I..." I spluttered, coughing again. "I don't think I'm going to like the taste, Mr. Benny."

"Nonsense." Finn cut in. "Sure, it tastes like shit now, but it's like...ah...what's the name of that...that food everyone hates at first but then they love it? I think it's a cheese or somethin'."

"Gorgonzola?" Benny asked.

"Yeah. That's the one. Gorgonzola. Right now, you hate it, but by the time you got to the end of this one, you'll be clamourin' for more. Go on, take another drag."

I stared at the cigar, afraid. I hated it. It made me wanna cough my lungs out. And yet somethin'...somethin' was tellin' me I should just give it another try. At least finish this one. I never had to have another one if I didn't want to. So I raised it to my lips again, and began breathing in again. It was only a little bit, and it made me want to cough, but I tried to hold it in. What I didn't realise was that this cigar was changin' more than my tolerance.

I had still been wearin' my shoes from work. They used to be smart lookin', but after spendin' a good 2 years walking around in the dirt, they'd gotten all scuffed up and dirty. But as I'd taken that second drag, something began changin'. The dirt and grime they'd built up started to fade away, like it had never been there. The shape o' them began changin' too. Before, they'd been slip-ons, loafers, but now they were takin' on a new style. Shoelaces grew outta them, like vines on a brick wall, tying themselves into a neat knot. They took on a perfect shine, like I'd polished them every single day, my whole life, and as I breathed out that breath of cigar smoke, my loafers had turned into venetians.

I wasn't aware of this at the time, mind you. You generally don't look at yer feet when yer smokin' yer first cigar.

"See, it ain't so bad." Finn said to me. "You're gettin' the hang of it. Take another drag."

"Yeah, man, it's ya birthday." Benny followed up.

I smiled inside a little. They liked me. For some reason, I wanted them to like me. I wasn't at all sure what my momma had been tellin' me before. These guys were just fine. I began to breathe in again, letting the smoke flow into my mouth. It was the same amount as the last couple of times, but now I didn't want to choke. I felt like I could take it, so I let a little more in...and more about me changed.

As I savoured the taste of the smoke on my tounge, my gut began filling out, just a little bit. Where before, I'd been as thin as a stick, I began to gain weight. My thighs began to fill out my shorts, which themselves were changin', just like my shoes. The boyish lookin' shorts began growing down my legs, their rough fibres turnin' into smooth silk, black, designer suit trousers, matching my new venetians. As I breathed out, I grew wider, my shoulders broadening, my thin arms beginning to gain some ever so slight muscle. The rough belt that had once adorned my shorts morphed, becomin' a thinner, smarter lookin kinda belt...and it was slacking up, as my thin stomach began to turn chubby, my thighs and ass began to expand just a little bit, filling out my new digs bit by bit.

"Th...that's...actually..." I stammered...I was beginning to enjoy the cigar, to my own surprise.

"Ya see? I told ya, Jerry, you'd like it by the end."

"I-it's Jeremy." I looked down at myself. I couldn't see that I'd gotten bigger, but I definitely noticed something else.

"H...hey...where are my shorts?"

"Shorts?" Finn asked.

"Y-yeah...I was...wearing shorts..." My head felt cloudy, as if the cigar smoke was blockin' my own memory.

"You sure? Benny replied. "You was wearin' those when we first saw ya."

"W...Was I?"

"Definitely. Does it matter? Yer smokin a cigar."

The cigar. Of course. It was all I could think about at that moment. I raised it to my lips once more, beginning to take a much longer drag, like I had been smoking for a good year or two now. And now that my drags were longer, my changes sped up. A couple of metal rings appeared on the loops in my belt line as I drew in the smoke. Obsessed now with the flavours dancin' on my tongue, I closed my eyes, blind to the straps of leather that sprung forth, sliding up my expanding stomach like snakes. They swooped up, going over my shoulders and down my back, combining into one strap half way down, and ending in another loop at the back of my trousers. The suspenders hugged my belly, which was beginning to fill out the simple white button shirt I was wearing. I began to breathe out, this time through my nose, opening one eye as I saw the smoke billowing out, and my mind exploded, taking in the musty, well aged taste. My biceps began to well and truly bulge. My chest, which had had barely any definition before, was now taking on its own chubbiness. As my belly continued to swell, and my ass began to stretch my trousers, my pecs began to soften up, becoming admirable moobs resting on top of my notable stomach.

As I finished breathing out the smoke, I smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Oh..that...that's good stuff, right there." My innocent, momma's boy, polite voice had begun to fade. I was now speaking in a lower, but louder, more confident rumble of a voice...but I was still stammering away. The cigar blocked my mind to anything else except Finn and Benny's voices, and that delicious smoke, but even the voices were being buried by that all consuming smoke.

"Yeah, see, I told ya, J! You're almost finished. Just one last puff." Finn sounded like he was shouting from the end of a long tunnel. All I could think about was the cigar. One last puff. One last puff. I needed to take it, but a voice in my mind...a dark voice, was tellin' me that it wouldn't be enough.

There were 9 other cigars in that box. I needed to have them all.

I began to take my final, long drag. The smoke began to pour into my mouth, almost filling it up, and as it did, my belly began to truly expand. My moobs and stomach began to strain against my white shirt, pushing the buttons to breaking point, little holes exposing my skin to the air. Outta the shadows themselves, a pure black jacket began to appear around me. Settling around my wide, wide shoulders, the arms sliding over my own bulging biceps. It fit me perfectly, like it had been tailor made for my new girthy self. I could feel myself getting a little taller, my 5 foot 3 growing to 4, 5, 6, 7. I could feel my trousers hugging my groin and ass, as they expanded ever more, my once flat little butt becoming a full on, fat booty.

I took the stub of the cigar from my mouth, being careful not to let any smoke out, and flicked it onto the pavement. I looked down at myself, still holding the smoke in my mouth, and it felt like what had been cloudin' my mind had cleared up. Suddenly, I was aware of all the changes that were happenin' to me. I knew just a few minutes ago I had been a cowardly little squirt, and somehow, this cigar had turned me into a huge, confident, mafioso, not afraid to throw around his own weight. And I knew that the cigars in that box Benny held even more power. I didn't know what they planned to do with those other 9 cigars, but I had to take them all. They were my future, and they were the key to unlockin' the true me that had been kept locked up in that pitiful little shell of a man, by my own, sweet momma.

I breathed out the smoke through my nose, and that was when it really began.

As it billowed out over my face, I could feel my hair beginning to change. My brown hair, slighty messy from the night's party began to change, turning a pure jet black, slicking back, becoming shiny, like a beetle's shell. It began to move towards the back of my head, my entire forehead exposed, as the slick black hair reached down to my shoulders at the back. Like the jacket before it, out of the shadows, a hat formed itself, a black homburg settling onto my head like I'd worn it all my life. And the final change, the one that told me that I had infinitely more potential, began to take root. My teeth had been average chompers, but they didn't fit my new, big self. They began to grow bigger, sharpen, moving around in my mouth, taking on a new form. I clenched them together in a grin, feeling satisfied as they slotted perfectly between each other, into a true, inhuman, shark-like grin.

"Hooh! Dat was a good cigar, boys." I slung my arms around Finn and Benny, like I'd known them forever. "Where'd ya get 'em?"

"They was specially made, J." Benny told me. "Boss commissioned them, like."

"All dat for my birthday? He really does love me." My huge paws, bigger than Benny's now, snatched the box out of his hands.

Finn took on a panicked look. "Oh...uh...well...s-sure. But wouldn't it be better to share them? Y'know, one for everyone?" He stammered. It was like we'd switched places.

"Now, ya know me, Finn. I'm not one for sharin'."

"Uh-" he began, but I wasn't about to let him take away the key to my future. I cut across him.

"Boy, I'm feelin' mighty hungry. The night's still young, fellas. Let's go get some steaks." I stood up, box of cigars in hand, as I started making my way towards a steak house a couple of blocks away. I knew that before the cigar, I hadn't know it was there, but it was like it had given me new knowledge. My girth took up the whole sidewalk, and I boldy stepped in the direction I wanted to go, my mind instantly adjustin' to all the changes.

I glanced down at the box of cigars. There were 9 left, and I intended to use them all before the end of tonight. I didn't know what they'd do to me, or where they'd take me, but I knew that if this was what just one could do, then I was sure to like the others. The little Jeremiah, at the start of this story, that sad, limp sack of a guy was completely gone, and in his place was me, Big J. As Finn and Benny nervously fell into step behind me, I grinned, baring my dangerously sharp fangs for what would definitely not be the last time that night.