#I'm crying out to the void because I'm too much of a fucking bitch to try and ask for help

[transgender-catboy]

ugh

[tetsurouskitten]

.

[starlightervarda]

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

2,904 notes

[reds-skull]

Hi I’m the work anon from earlier

Wow your revenant fic was amazing! I’m so glad I got to read it from start to finish and watch as your story grew and took shape

I adored Soap and Gaz’s friendship but I also adored how Ghost trusted and was friends with him too especially when he asked him for advice! 😭 (there’s so little of their friendship the fandom and it sucks ) Price was best dad and deserves all the hugs (and cigars for dealing with his sons squad every day) Rudy and Alejandro (and the vaqueros) were adorable and had the 141 backs from the start, they were ready to throw down! Grave’s got what he deserved I hated him in this fic so much (great job) he was such a smug smarmy bastard until the end. Farah and Alex were so sweet they were like the favourite cousins that got roped into the family drama (I still want Fahra to BITE shepherd you know as a treat!) Laswell knows things and is scary she will happily help people reach the find out portion of their fucking around.

The reapers were so cool!!!! Especially with how they combined I was not expecting that, was legit shooketh (I now imagine limbo as a pitch black ocean full of burning stars (I also have a couple questions regarding it I would like to asked later please?)) Soap’s reaper was warm and kind Ghost’s was cold and clinical together they’re so much more?!?! Like it’s poetic there the best version of themselves together (like ghoap)

Speaking of ghoap they’re so in love it’s sickening all I could imagine during the vows was Price “listening in” and then getting Laswell to hand the boys a bloody wedding certificate so sweet 😭

Thank you for putting in the time and effort to create something so beautiful for so many people have a lovely day or night you deserve a break after all of that hard work!

And with all my admiration fuck you for making me cry (again)

Hello work anon! Hope it went easy haha

I feel like there's a few versions of Ghost headcannons floating out there, one is basically "the man believes he's broken beyond repair, he doesn't think he's human, all he does is focus on work" and the other is "yeah he went through really fucked up shit, but he holds himself together pretty well, and while it's hard for him to find someone he trusts, the people close to him are priceless."

I like both versions, but this time I went for the latter. I love love love Ghost and Gaz as friends (mw4 please give me them interacting), and you can see that in my comics as well lol.

I made Graves such a little bitch that everyone hates from the start lmao.

I didn't plan for Rudy and Ghost to interact that much if I'm honest, but because Soap wasn't the POV and I wanted to have the Vaqueros more prominently in the story (it does take place mostly in Las Almas after all), Rudy's initial reaction to Ghost's mask was the perfect opening for a deeper friendship.

Farah and Alex weren't too active, if I make a sequel, I think I'll make it focused on the situation in Urzikstan. Farah deserves to take her own revenge and get her happy ending...

I love your description of Limbo, especially because I mentioned in the fic that Ghost loves seeing the stars, because it's the first thing he saw after he was Reaped (and now Soap created stars for him in the void).

I'd love to hear your questions!

Ghost and Soap, like someone else commented, are practically married on all levels beside legal lmao. I never planned for them to be so fuckin' whipped for each other tbh, like the vows at the start were not planned at all. I just looked up Celtic wedding vows, and it was literally so perfect for them ("I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One./I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done."? Couldn't fit more to their story), I just had to add it.

Thank you for reading and commenting! I wish this break was voluntary, but my semester is ending in 3 weeks and I have many projects to finish, so I have to prioritize that for a while T_T

[anthropwashere]

I've gotten two letters from my mom since my aunt died last month and they've both been just. So, so aggressively manipulative. Y'all can skip this post. I'm not looking for sympathy likes/replies. I just need a good rant and sometimes it does pay to yell into the Tumblr void.

Still—still!—she insists I have never told her why I refuse to speak to her anymore. She has the receipts on this, going all the way back over a decade ago to my early 20s when I conceded to communicate to her solely through e-mails. That avenue of communication ended with me blocking her pretty much everywhere online after she called me a sociopathic bitch on a public platform family, friends, and coworkers followed me on. Very cool of her, very mature.

(If memory serves she was arrested shortly thereafter. Pity it wasn't for something more serious than, jeez, I can't be assed to remember. Something to do with her driver's license? I know she asked me for a couple grand about it and cussed me out when I told her my baby Airman ass literally did not have the money even if I were inclined to help her.)

Every single letter she sends me includes a brief tangent about how she's been watching YouTube videos about estranged families (both sides! she always includes the both sides!). She always says she wants to understand but she can't because I've never told her why I refuse to talk to her anymore.

How many phonecalls, how many HOURS, have I wasted crying in rage and despair as I try to tell her all the ways she hurt me, physically and emotionally and mentally, before I realized she'd never accept it? That she would always, always try to gaslight me like this? That she'd give me that guileless, wide-eyed and furrowed brow anxious stare and that high, plaintive goddamn voice. That she'd convince me time and time and time and time again that maybe, maybe I'm overreacting?

This most recent letter was a real treat. She went out of her way to say she wasn't trying to guilt trip me, really, but she's JUST lost both her sisters AND her parents in the last year and she's terrified she might die soon next so WHY won't her ONLY DAUGHTER just TALK to her? 😭

So, firstly. I can only speak for myself and my interpretations of what my extended family will feel, but I'm pretty goddamn sure we're all gonna CHEER when she finally fucking kicks the bucket. Ain't nobody gonna miss her when she croaks. Even if her sisters outlived her that'd be the same. My only complaint when she does die is that I'm gonna insist on paying for all of the funerary expenses because she's already leeched too goddamn much from the rest of the family. No way is anyone gonna pay for her bullshit one last time, even if that means paying folks back with interest after I fly back to California. And you can be sure I'm gonna go out of my way to take the cheapest route possible at every opportunity out of spite. This woman doesn't deserve better than the bare minimum. That's all she's ever given everyone else after all.

Secondly, I will concede the fact that yes, she's lost both her sisters in the last year, not even a full year apart from each other. And that sucks! It's extremely fucking sad! My aunts raised me as much as she did, and they both sure as hell paid for more of my childhood needs than she ever did. I was able to afford to go to my younger aunt's funeral last year, but even with the surprise disability backpay I got this year I've been dealing with a lot of owning-a-100+-year-old house expenses (such as replacing the entire goddamn original roof) this year, so I genuinely couldn't make the trip for my older aunt's funeral. Two family members offered to pay for my flight and I just couldn't accept that kindness because I grew up watching my mom take and take and take and take from the family.

THIRDLY HOWEVER.

Her mom, my maternal grandma, died TWENTY YEARS AGO. Her dad, my maternal grandpa, died THIRTY YEARS AGO. And she hated her parents! She fucking loathed them! I spent more of my childhood being her psychologist instead of her goddamn child; ALL I HEARD ABOUT was how much she hated and resented her parents. This is THE first time I've heard her trot them out since I lived with her back in the 00s, and it might damn well be the first halfway-positive mention of them since long before that? This is so transparent an act I can't help but be insulted that she'd think I'd take the bait? Using the LITERAL DEATHS of others to try to goad me into talking to her?

Like. Jesus. Last year at my younger aunt's funeral just about every single member of the California-centric family pulled me aside to ask if my mom was being too much. My aunt's CHILDREN, damn near non-functional with grief, asked if I needed help handling my mom. And there were a couple occasions where I damn near admitted yeah! She's being too much! She won't stop fucking touching me! She won't stop making her sister's death about herself! And here she is, a year later, doing the same goddamn thing again with her other sister's death!

She's a manipulative, gaslighting abuser who refuses to grow up and accept responsibility and/or repercussions for her actions despite being in her late-60s. She gleefully twists the knife into whoever she can get her hands on and acts SO distraught and SO betrayed when people find fault with her actions and behavior. I don't know a single person who knows her to like her anymore once she's shown her true colors, and somehow she's still convinced she isn't the problem.

What a waste. What a fucking waste.

[anderwhohn]

@bloodiedbiotic asked: "You don't get to disappear, then come back like nothing happened. Life moved on without you." @ Izzy, for the verse where Izzy's younger than Blair and is the Commander, set in early ME2

"Well, excuse me for being dead!" Isabela snaps back at her, an angry aura of dark energy flickering around her as she struggles to maintain control, particularly with the new, much more powerful implant Cerberus fitted her with. "I didn't just 'disappear', dammit! I. Was. Dead. I remember getting spaced - my air line was damaged, and I couldn't get the omnigel to respond to even attempt to make an emergency repair in fucking vacuum."

Panic darkens her emerald gaze as she remembers, "My suit's medical VI kept pumping me full of adrenaline and medigel, even as my air was escaping into the void. The ship was in pieces, and there wasn't anything to tether to even if that wouldn't have just likely got me completely vaporised when that ship kept attacking the wreckage. I only lost consciousness when I hit the planet's atmo and things started heating up..."

"'Nothing but meat and tubes' - that's what Taylor said was left of me when Cerberus got a hold of my body. I don't know how they did it - I've gone to Karin and let her start running tests, dammit, just to figure out what all they did, to make sure there's no trackers or explosives or hidden back doors that they could hack into somehow."

Glaring up at Blair, she gives her a hard shove in retaliation for the accusation. "So no, I'm not acting like nothing fucking happened, but for me, it's been days, at most. I mean, hell, before the attack, I was under the mako with Garrus pulling out geth pieces in the undercarriage from Ilos the Alliance team had missed when they recovered it from the Citadel while Wrex was teaching Tali how to handle her shotgun better. Then the next thing anyone knew, we were under attack, I made the call to evac, Joker was a stubbornly brave idiot who kept us flying long enough for most of the crew to escape, and I had to haul his ass into the escape pod because everyone else in the CIC was already dead because it'd been torn open by one of the first blasts."

"You think I don't know everyone's moved on without me? And I do mean everyone? One of the only reasons I'm even remotely sure I'm me is because Joker is one loyal son of a bitch and left the Alliance on just the chance that Cerberus wasn't lying. They hadn't even been sure they could bring me back yet, but he took a chance, and the moment I first saw him, walking, I ran up to him and hugged him, crying into his shoulder that I was so relieved he'd made it out alive, that I hadn't failed him when I chose to hit the emergency eject button to get him away from the ship before it was too late. The only other familiar face I had was Karin, and she immediately wanted to start poking me with needles for a checkup, so I wasn't quite as thrilled to see her in the moment."

Tears well in her eyes, though she looks away to try to hide them, sighing heavily as she continues, "But you either believe I'm me, or you don't. Regardless, I've got a damn galaxy to save, again, a new Council that's just as useless as the last one, and I don't have time for anyone else's bullshit - even yours."

"And hey, we'll be heading through the Omega-4 relay. There's a fair chance we might not make it back out, so then everyone can go back to me being dead and they'll probably stay right this time. Stars know I didn't ask to be brought back and thrown back into the front lines against the Collectors and the Reapers..."

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 27 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

"Mommy, are there any potato skins left?" I ask into the void.

"I'll take anything."

No reply.

I feel cold hands closing around my neck, obstructing my airway.

I struggle, clawing at the but nothing I do can loosen their grip.

"You think you deserve to eat? Do you think you deserve anything."

My stepfather's voice growls.

Help.

I want to scream.

"Well, you don't. Your good for nothing mother dumped you on me. You should be six feet under, just like her."

I shake my head, still not able to see anything but the blood-stained cement floor of the basement.

"You should be grateful I put a roof over your head. If I didn't, no one else would care for a worthless runt like you. You hear that? You're worthless. WORTHLESS."

The word roars in my ears, piercing my brain as I scream in agony.

Make it stop, Make it STOP.

PLEASE. PLEASE.

I CAN'T BREATHE.

PLEASE MAKE IT STOP.

My body is slammed against the ground, the face of my attacker finally in view.

But it's not Alpha Ferix.

No. It's Daemon.

He looms over my figure that lies on the floor, eyes glowing with hate.

"You thought I changed?" he says, an evil sneer on his face.

"That I liked a pathetic Omega like you?"

He lifts his boot-clad foot over me. Dread fills my core, fear consuming me.

No, Daemon wouldn't, he wouldn't hurt me.

He brings it down, smashing my right hand under it.

I scream out in pain, the sound of the bones shattering ringing in my ears.

It hurts so much.

I don't stop screaming, my body convulsing as I beg for it to end.

********

It's not real. It didn't happen.

I chant this to myself, flexing my throbbing hand.

Even after all this time, I can't close my fist perfectly.

Why did my mind make me see Daemon smash it?

My stepfather was the one who did that, not him.

I hate the fact that my dreams can turn even people I trust against me.

I massage my hand, trying to soothe out the aches.

I still remember the day my stepfather stepped on it.

It's probably why I'm still so shit at drawing.

My hand isn't steady like it was when I was younger.

It's damaged, permanently.

Yet another thing he's stolen from me.

I shove my face into my knees, curling into a ball.

"Don't think about it," I say to myself, rocking my body.

"Don't."

I go to the bathroom and douse my face in cold water.

I grab my medication and pour some into my hand, gulping it down.

Shit but I already took it last night.

Ugh. I don't care.

I look at the clock and see it's already time to wake up anyway, so I drag myself to get ready.

I'm extra drowsy the entire day, probably because of the medication.

Jay is pretty worried about me but I tell him everything's fine.

Because everything is fine.

At least I'm pretending it is.

But I can't even bring myself to draw in art class, my hand is hurting so much.

Why is it acting up just from a dream?

Lylah and I go to the bathroom at lunch, finding Wren there too, washing his hands in the sink.

"Wren. Enough is enough. When are you going to talk to us again?" Lylah confronts him, putting her hands on her hips, brow furrowed sternly.

"Did you tell Jay I like him?" Wren asks.

"No. This is not about fucking Jay."

"I'm just not ready to..."

"Ready for what? To stop being a bitch? I... I got a mate. And I couldn't even go to my bestie since kindergarten to tell him," Lylah's voice cracks and it hurts my heart.

Wren looks alarmed.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, you know what? I can't do this anymore."

Lylah runs out of the bathroom crying.

This must have been her breaking point.

She's already been very emotional since finding her mate.

I go to follow her but a grip on my arm stops me.

"No, I'll go after her," Wren glares at me.

"She needs me right now. Not the ditz who messed everything up."

Then he runs out, too, leaving me standing there dejectedly.

I rush into one of the stalls, crashing to my knees as I empty my guts into the toilet.

Not that there is much to empty anyway.

All I managed to eat today was a few carrots.

I look at the disgusting orange mess floating in the water and flush it down.

I wipe my mouth with some toilet paper, trying to swallow down the burning taste of acid in my mouth.

I sit down on the toilet, head in my hands.

I let myself break down, crying silently into the sleeves of my sweater.

My phone dings.

I see it's from Daemon, again.

Oh well, what do I have to lose at this point?

Might as well just look. 

Sunday

Daemon: Did you get home safe?

Tuesday

Daemon: Why no answer?

Wednesday

Daemon: Do u regret it? That why you ran off after we did it?

Thursday

Daemon: Why the fuck won't you talk to me?

I sniffle, trying to type out a reply.

What do I mean to you...

No, why did you kiss me?

No, why does Theo say...

Fuck. None of this is working.

I backspace on all of the potential message and shove my phone back in my pocket.

I know I jumped to conclusions by myself.

But I just hate me so much right now, I don't even have the capacity to see myself as someone Daemon would actually care about.

Why would he like me?

Why would anyone?

[queer-quester]

Spoiler Warning for like almost all of the second episode of Starstruck Odyssey

OKAY SO I have no one I know who watches/cares about this and the first episode was hard enough but I've gotten to a certain point where I need to express my fucking bullshit internal monologue at all this nonsense so I'm sending it into the Tumblr void, starting with:

IS HIS REAL CHARACTER THE FUCKING PARASITE IM GONNA SCREAM

Rip anyone who was really attached to the Skipper lmao

I can't believe everyone was like wow, Zac is getting to unleash his inner cunt, just like with Lapin, he's breaking the mold from his usual character type- NO! xD we get that for one episode then back to lovely, slightly off but very amicable characters, Zac cannot play just a straight asshole for an entire campaign it's physically impossible the universe won't allow it

God they know, they KNOW the skipper has been body-jacked or some shit and they do not give a single fuck coz by god that funky lil parasite is so much nicer xD

The value of kindness my dudes lmao

"Can we have *insert ridiculous and/or dangerous thing here*?"

"OkAy" *shrugs*

"Roll an insight and deception check against yourself"

Ally: 'do a hotness roll?'

Brennan: *does a hotness roll, winces*

Brennan: 'shes stunning'

'im not gonna brush my teeth tonight just to feel something'

'i psychic dump ✨the feeling of being myself✨ onto you'

'i want to be able to want something without needing someone else to want it too and without thinking of a practical reason'

Cool welp I'm gonna go cry in a corner but everything is fine, Emily how dare you.

Take a shot everytime Brennan says 'want' if you want to die of alcohol poisoning

'gunnie doesn't really own anything because anything he owns is taken by the people he owes money to' LOU IS2G MAN

Do you think like the D20 team were seeing all that love for Skipper after the first ep and just 👀😅 because they knew the second episode was basically just gonna be 'yeah so actually he's a dick, fuck that guy'

(Like I ain't mad at it personally tbh, I think loveable assholes should be loveable in the context of the universe they preside, not just from an outside perspective and like I get it was only one episode but he wasn't seeming too loveable tbh with the way things were going)

Parasite!Skip just saying 'youre important' to Margaret?

IM SOBBING, I love him

You gotta love the like classic 'abstract alien perception' thingie Brendan and Zac have going like, "there is a build up of some internal secretion in your lower appendages" Brennan, my dude, my guy, what the FUCK does that mean xD

Brennan: "You can see your eyes are getting kinda bloodshot"

Zac: "Oh am I forgetting to blink?"

Brennan (who definitely meant he's getting tired): 👀😈 "give me a check to find out"

THE SECRETION IS LACTIC ACID IN HIS QUADS COZ THE DUMB BITCH HASNT SAT THE FUCK DOWN

I love this, truly a crew full of dumbasses and Margret who is I think getting dumber by association, yes, this is how it should be

YES SID! ENJOY YOUR EXPLOSIONS BABY I LOVE YOU!

Right on!!!

I could listen to Mr Mulligan describe fantasy planets all day man, yes please tell me more about the blood red gas giant with swirling diamond dust I'm utterly enamored with this good good visual imagery caressing my brain

(channels Zelda) YES 👏 SID 👏 FEEEEL 👏 IIIIIITTTT!!!! 👏

I would fucking die for Sundry Sidney my poor baby (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Margret's Reddit account:

One post of really important whistleblower documents totally exposing her company and calling for a revolution

Another post (only a day after the first one) that is just a neck down nude selfie

*Guy selling sandwiches asking if Riva has a mouth and a butthole*

The cast: oh no it's a sex thing!

*Guy coming to the conclusion that Riva can eat a sandwich*

The cast: oh, it's a… sandwich thing?

Someone teach Riva about lying please, the poor babey

Put your tongue AWAY sir (can't believe I was saying that to Lou and not Brennan xD)

(Not that Brennan kept his tongue in this this episode, I think I'm just desensitized at this point)

Gunnie on a high is a delight

THE 'MY FARTS SMELL AWESOME' CLIP FROM THE TRAILER WAS HIM COVERING FOR AN (EXPENSIVE) PERFUME BOMB THAT SID UNLEASHED!?

'we didn't take names coz we didn't ask them'

The commitment to them all making it so much worse. I've never seen a group of people collect so many disadvantages on their rolls by just being unapologetically ridiculous

The sudden fucking SWITCH between them all cry laughing at the table and then Brennan saying that one thing about the Barrys and Murph's face just drops, all signs of joy VANISHED

Okay I know we've never met this Princeps Zorch but I think Margret should date them

OH!? Lucienne is nearby? 👀

JUST THE THREE OF THEM CLOBBERING A GUY THAT HASNT EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO STAND UP

He managed to make one (1) dramatic threat then they all fuckin beat the shit out of him xD

Episode ends and their ship is still utterly fucked, beautiful

If I sounded insane this whole time i blaming it on the fact that the episodes released at midnight for me

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

RECORD STORE HAUL FROM TODAY *vibrating three feet off the ground in excitement*

(Closer photos and album titles and artists below, plus a little rambling about my finds! Didn't want to overwhelm anyone with a bunch of photos and all of my rambling upfront, LOL)

Yes, they still have the stickers on them - sorry, I'm still too excited that I GOT THEM to have taken them off for the photos yet (and eventually...hopefully soon...I will take the stickers off). Also the rug in the background/under the albums is not mine, it's my mom's. LOL We do not have the same style, although her style is definitely cool and interesting and very, in her words!, eclectic.

So, if you didn't read the image descriptions, I got: Instincts by Romeo Void (1984), Quiet Places by Buffy Sainte-Marie (1973) the BEAUTIFUL, BELOVED REPLACEMENT ALBUM for the shitty version that's pretty much unplayable that I got of it last year or whenever it was, Sleight of Hand by Joan Armatrading (1986), Joan Armatrading's self-titled album (1976), Charity Ball by Fanny (1971), The Key by Joan Armatrading (1983), Welcome Home by 'Til Tuesday (1986), and I'm the Sky: Studio and Demo Recordings, 1964-1971 by Norma Tanega (2022).

I gotta tell you all, when I remembered to search to even SEE if they had any Fanny records (I actually had a list with me of what all to search for, but I felt too geeky having to keep looking at my phone to look at my list, LOL, even though...even though I am that geeky, no judgment necessary. Just plain, hard facts), I thought to myself 'I will shit bricks if they have any Fanny albums' and WELL- I mean, okay, that was an exaggeration, but when I DID notice that they even had a Fanny label among their stacks I DID start hyperventilating, and then when I saw Charity Ball I let out a semi-quiet scream!!! (NOTE TO SELF, I guess, THEY ALSO FUCKING HAD NICKEY BARCLAY'S SOLO ALBUM Diamond in A Junkyard! I was sooooooo tempted to get it, I tell you, oh my god.) Also, when I fucking FINALLY found the Buffy Sainte-Marie albums (there was even a label for her, thank god! As I kept fruitlessly searching the rock stacks three times - yes, I went around the store four times in total looking for this stuff, LOL - I kept thinking, 'Okay, so if they have her music at all, maybe she's in an unlabeled (S) stack? But how the fuck could they disrespect her like that and not give her her own label! She's a fucking legend, what the fuck!' and then I went BACK to the folk stacks - I had already looked there once, but apparently I didn't look well enough because I totally missed her the first time, and FINALLY found her on my somehow-still-hopeful return search), I was so excited and so grateful to see such a beautiful version of Quiet Places that I almost started crying as soon as I saw it. I did tear up, I shit you not. That's how important that album is to me and how heartbroken I was to learn that the version I bought off of Discogs was shit. So yeah...assuming this version plays well, I will be truly eternally grateful for my local indie record stores. :') And I will update you all on how all of these records sound, btw. Don't think I won't. ;D

ALSO...remember that post I wrote recently-ish about how badly I wanted a Redbone album? Well, I was $10 short of buying one. Redbone (1970), in fact - "It's a double album, so that one'll cost ya $20." If not for the fact that this old dude who owns and runs the store only accepted cash, I would have bought it, but I was lucky that I even had $25 for the Joan Armatrading and Romeo Void albums that I got. (Yes, you read that right...I got 3 Joan Armatrading albums, ALL IN FABULOUS CONDITION SO WELL WORTH THE PRICE, AND A MOTHERFUCKING ROMEO VOID ALBUM, IN VERY VERY GOOD CONDITION, for a total of $22. I TELL YOU...I AM ONE LUCKY BITCH! And I am grateful for that luck, especially when it comes to albums, oh my goodness.) Anyway, all that to say I WOULD have actually gotten an album by fronted by/played by all men if only I'd had enough cash to buy that Redbone album. LOL Instead I'm a predictable bitch and I bought all women-fronted/-written albums. :')

[anisstories]

I Don't Want This

Chapter 6

The Next Morning

When Y/N awoke in the morning, she panicked, she didn’t know this room, and then she turned around. There was Anakin asleep, the sun shining on his face. His hair seemed to become even more golden. Y/N still felt tipsy. She looked at the foot of the bed and there were her clothes. It was 5 in the morning and no sound was heard. I doubt anyone’s awake, I’ll change, leave a note, and get a cab to the company. Shit, how strong is a Flameout? I'm falling back into a drunken state. Before that could happen she stood up, put her clothes on, went to Anakin’s desk grabbed a post-it, and started to right:

Hey Anakin,

I didn’t want to wake you up. Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Sorry for being such a bother. I promise I will never drink when you're around.

Next time I see you we'll be "happily married".

Warm Regards,

Y/N

Heiress to the Aridam Empire XD.

Anakin awoke to the sound of shuffling in his room. He turned around and saw Y/N writing something on a sticky note. The events of last night came to his mind. WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE? I should have kicked her out yesterday. She'll pay at this moment. Anakin got out of bed and stalked over to her. Y/N turned around only to be met with Anakin's bare chest. His pectorals glistened in the sunlight. "Hey, sorry I didn't mean to wake you. I was just about to leave. Sorry for-" "Last night I brought you into my home and you know who saw? Padmé. You already ruined my relationship. So you're going to stay here and we're going to be caught sleeping together. I don't care if your dignity is at stake." Anakin said as he pushed Y/N onto the bed. "Strip" Anakin said his voice and face were void of emotion. "w-what do you m-mean strip?" "Strip. Don't make me repeat myself." She felt a weight next to her. "I don't want to touch your disgusting body. So strip and go back to sleep. If you don’t I’m going to have to strip you myself, and you won’t like that." Y/N felt so embarrassed but she started stripping, fearing what Anakin would do if she disobeyed. She hesitated when she reached her panties. "Keep your underwear on." He opened the comforter for her. She stepped in, her back facing his chest, and felt Anakin's arms wrap around her bare waist. She felt so vulnerable in only her bra and panties. She knew that if someone walked in she would face the biggest embarrassment of her life. She started to squirm, to get away. But his grip tightened. "I said go to sleep," he growled. Anakin wasn't human anymore. He had gone feral. The love of his life was probably lost and all because of this stupid girl that laid next to him.

There was no going through to him. He roughly turned Y/N around. "Stop squirming. You said you'd follow my lead, so do it." He pulled her closer. Y/N started hitting his chest, muttering I hate you. Anakin grabbed her wrists. "Stop" his voice an octave lower. Y/N stopped. I hate you too, Y/N. Once we get married, I'll make your life a living hell. Anakin started to rub her back. Trying to get her to sleep. He wanted this to seem natural. He finally heard light snoring from Y/N. He went to grab his phone but feared the messages he would find there. He placed it back and started playing with Y/N's hair to help him fall asleep.

At 7 there was a knock at his door. Y/N jolted but Anakin held her tighter. He pulled the comforter low enough to reveal his bare chest and Y/N's bra. Then he heard Owen's voice "If I don't hear shuffling in 1 second I'm coming in." Of course it had to be this asshole. He grabbed Y/N's chin and started nuzzling into her neck. This caused Y/N to start whimpering. "You’re a piece of shit, you know that?" she said as she tried to push him away. “So I’ve heard” he mumbled. Anakin got tired of getting pushed away, so he flipped them over. He was hovering above her. Y/N’s arms got tired so he just pulled them to her side. This caused the comforter to fall off the bed. Owen walked in to see Anakin on top of Y/N. "Oh Maker. Fuck. Oh shit, I'm so sorry." Owen stuttered. "Can you stop staring at MY girl?" Anakin growled. "I wasn't staring at her. I was staring at you. Are you that insatiable?" Owen started laughing. "What do you - " and Anakin groans. Y/N accidentally brushed her leg against Anakin's groin and he felt a strong surge of pleasure coarse through his body. Shit, I was supposed to be mad. Not get turned on. "USE PROTECTION KIDS '' Owen closed the door and Anakin’s alarm clock hit it. He could hear Owen's laughter down the hall.

Y/N looked at Anakin’s sweatpants. There was a large bulge in them. When I brushed against it, his face contorted, I think it was out of pain. Y/N started brushing her knee against it. Anakin's eyes nearly popped out of his socket. "Mm..stop." Anakin was becoming less mad. Fuck this is bad... "No, this is payback for this morning." Y/N started brushing faster and harder. "Y-Y/N, h-hold o-o-oh Fuck!" Anakin spit. He fell on top of her chest. Y/N would've been mad. But when he fell onto her chest she had better access to that spot. Anakin started thrusting his hips into her knee. Y/N's name falling out of his lips. At this moment Y/N realized he hadn't groaned out of pain, he had groaned out of pleasure. So she pulled her knee away. Anakin's hips thrust into the air. Y/N heard Anakin moan out in pain. "Y-you, you’re a bitch" he growled. “Says the guy who forced me to strip.” She tried to get up only to fail, as Anakin had a death grip on her waist. "Hey let go," Y/N grumbled. Anakin refused. His breathing was labored and his forehead had a layer of sweat. "It hurts. Give me a fucking second!” he yelled. Y/N rolled her eyes, muttered I hope you die of pain and reached for her phone, or that’s what she thought at least. When she opened “her” phone she saw a bunch of messages.

Anakin I can’t believe you did that.

I fucking knew it. You’re a piece of shit.

I hope you get thrown into a ditch.

I can’t believe you got with my best friend.

I hope you both die.

We are done.

Don’t look or try to talk to me.

Y/N dropped the cellphone. It fell on Anakin’s head. “I’m already in pain and you dropped a cellphone on my head. I fucking hate you.” as he looked up he saw Y/N looking at him with guilty eyes. “I thought that was my phone and I read the messages Padme sent you. I’m sorry I fucked up your relationship,” she mumbled. “What do they say?” he asked, his tone cold and detached. Y/N started to read aloud the messages and Anakin felt his heart crack piece by piece. “Oh well, it was bound to happen,” he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. “How can you say that? I mean you have her as LOML on your contacts. You said you were gonna get us out of it and suddenly you're okay with getting married to me?” she said. “You don’t even feel a tiny bit sad. Don’t you want to scream or cry? If that was me I'd be very outraged." Y/N looked out the window. "Can you be logical? You think we were going to convince our parents. That was a false hope Y/N. They were gonna force us to get married. Padme isn't the type to share her boyfriend so its end was inevitable anyway." Anakin grumbled. I can't make her life miserable. She is suffering just as much as I am. I mean Y/N's here saying sorry for ruining my relationship. And it wasn't even her fault. I should be the one on my knees begging for forgiveness. I forced her to strip. Anakin got up and knelt before her. "Huh?! Anakin what are you doing?" She asked as she sat up. "I'm sorry. I was just so mad and so sad that I had lost Padme. I lost all human decency and forced you to strip. I'm sorry. I know that's not enough but I'm afraid that's all I have." Anakin's voice cracked. He was so ashamed of what he'd done.

Y/N felt bad. She knew he had done those things out of rage, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt her. She reached for his arm and pulled him up. “It’s okay, I know you did them out of rage.” Anakin’s face lit up, he was so happy he could hug her, as he was about to, she opened her mouth. “But, can I ask you for a favor?” She asked. Anakin blankly looked at her. She panicked and spoke up “I’m sorry, never mind, I just-” “Hey, I didn’t even answer. What is your request?” Anakin grabbed onto her shoulders. “I was wondering if you could convince my father to let me finish my Master's?” She asked while looking at her lap. “I don't know if I could convince your Father” Y/N’s eyes started to get sad, “But I can convince my father to pay your college tuition and you can go secretly.” Y/N jumped up and into Anakin’s arms. He lost his balance so before he fell he pushed himself onto the bed. His cheek falling against her lips. “Oh damn, I smeared your lipstick.” “It’s fine.” Y/N started to giggle. “Thank you, Anakin,” she smiled so brightly and softly, but she was also crying, his heart fluttering. “Yea, no problem.” Anakin's voice sounded wistful, but Y/N didn’t hear it, she was too busy swimming in his clear blue eyes. “I never noticed,” Y/N whispered. Anakin hummed, asking her to continue. “Your eyes, they look like a lake.” she giggled. “They are pretty. If you looked up at the sun, your eyes would probably glitter like a real lake.” Anakin felt so flustered. No one ever complimented his eyes. Well, they had, but not in the way Y/N had. It was always nice eyes. You probably get all the chick with those eyes. “Thank you, your eyes are pretty too.” “Your E/C eyes lit up. “They get all bright and shimmery when you're excited about something. They get dull when you’re sad or frustrated. When you get embarrassed they glitter more than they’re supposed to.” Anakin started leaning in. The moment was shattered when they heard a commotion downstairs.

Taglist

@songbirdcannabe

@blondekel77

Note:

My summer classes have started so I will begin to post on Mondays. Thank you for understanding.

[renzoreen]

Inscryption after-game thoughts: If you're into ARGS and strategy games please go check it out before I now proceed to spoil everything. I can't see any game this year actually topping this for me this was such an experience dihdjwanbs

Did... Did I become heavily attached to these card game characters x jdknsvchsk yes oh god it hurts. I fucking hate that they all die even tho plot wise it seems that they were legitimate threats that had to be taken out. But still.

Do you have any idea how close to crying I was when I got to play that last game with Leshy, and it turns out he genuinely enjoyed playing with me and carried on even without the scales? And then shook my hand before being deleted??

AND I FELT SO BAD FOR MAGAJDJS WIZARD MOTHERFUCKER. HE WAS NOT WILLING TO DIE IN GRACE, HE WANTED TO LIVE. The man couldn't even get one last handshake. I swear if I was actually able to walk forward in that moment I'm going to be so pissed, because I was so horrified watching him desperately crawling through the void that I forgot which key to press and was just rapidly clicking.

And Stoat. You were a complete bastard and you continued to be a bastard as Po3. But I still love you, you were fun. You little bitch I refused to sacrifice you all throughout the first act and you turn out to be an evil robot bjsnlbavhlahkcschks

Leshy oh god I miss your eyes peering out of the darkness and your grangly hands reaching out as if to rip my neck off. I had fun playing with you too. Your section was good, not me being a complete moron and thinking the card game was neverending and there was a puzzle I had to solve first because I kept dying before getting to the cabin-

I got the film role through complete accident. How do people who didn't do the puzzles proceed?? Oh I'm going to have to watch so many Let's Plays. Oh god Leshy I miss you

I bought Inscryption thinking that the first act was the entire game, but no, there are two entire more acts. The film segments took me by surprise, the entire rpg map took me by surprise, the third acts took me by surprise- all in a "oh god there's more??" way. I chose Po3 to replace so I honestly thought there were 4 entire options for the 3rd act, and was completely flabbergasted at how much content there was. But nope, apparently there's dialogue bits that force you into choosing Po3, but still, that utter confusion was there all the way until the credits and I googled shit.

Thank you for having easy binary codes so that I could feel smart. Not thank you for making me search and find so many codes that I do not have remotely enough skill to solve. dkdjjssk. I wonder if those coordinates still have anything hidden there? Someone should go check. Where are they anyways?

For health reasons I should go to sleep soon or else I'll be in pain for the rest of the night, but motherfucker how am I supposed to sleep after that?? I have so many questions!!

Also what was that thing that I found on Reddit about someone finding an image of Po3 uploading itself? Huh?? Is there going to be more, please let there be more.

I managed to solve some stuff by myself but not nearly enough if there being an entire Discord for it proclaiming itself as an ARG infobook is any indication. Should I dig around in the game files? I'm really not good with code so I don't wanna fuck anything up. Wait, did the game actually delete itself why didn't I check-

Ok I'm launching it again the shortcut is still here. Opening onto Kamwerks and what the fuck

It's all the acts and film, and what I can only assume is dates?? Luke started playing on the 10/10 and finished on the 10/17. OH FUCK LUKE I COMPLETELY FORGOT IS HE OKAY, OBVIOUSLY NOT HE GOT FUCKING SHOT-

WHY THE FUCK DID AMANDA NEED THE DISC SO BAD? She fucking shot a man so I assume the company might be running under evil purposes. But how did she get through the side gate? Is she a lock pick? Idk the way it was framed makes me assume that she got in supernaturally.

Okay fuck it I'm going to click on the first act see what happens

It seems to actually be the beginning of the game again..huh

Small thing I really love how there isn't a new game option. It's something you notice but don't actually question until you start the game 'for real'. Just djdjsjsjsj little foreshadowings like that are always so cool to realize.

Not me continuing to play-

Hmm, Luke's sister comes up a lot. She died at some point and Luke began his cards channel to deal with his grief, but other than that does his sister actually have anything to do with it? During the film section where he frantically smashes the disc, I obviously couldn't read the flashbys fast enough but I swear I saw something about his sister. It would make the most sense as he is very very distressed afterwards.

Watch me trying to theorize and then get immediately debunked as I look at the video later.

Okay I'm getting sucked into the game again. Maybe I add more stuff later as I carry on searching.

Nope bodily pains are increasing I actually should go to bed. Maybe I'll just research in bed, that sounds good okay

Alright it's the next day now and I went to sleep at 4am if that gives you any indication of how invested I am in this.

And yeah I just read a document on all the codes and holy fuck I would not have been able to decipher them myself.

So... What the fuck is the Kaminski website that let people order 'replacement cards' about. Huh?? I'm so happy that there's apparently going to be more to all this but holy fuck

Alright it's the next next day and I'm here again because it's a SIN that I haven't mentioned our Scrybe of Death yet. Grimora is just such a nice lady, so pleasant a d understanding. Leshy kills you around 74 times, Po3 is a self-absorbed dickhead and Magnificus indefinitely tortures his students, but Grimora is just,, ohoohoo let me revive these ghosts and listen to their stories. ALSO FUCK YOU GAME FOR GETTING ME SO HYPED FOR THAT PIRATE BATTLE AND THEN IMMEDIATELY DELETING HER. I don't think there's a singular person whose heart didn't audibly break at that part. Please the two seconds of song we got sounds like such a fucking bop. If we got to actually choose the Scrybes, I think her section would've been my favourite atmosphere-wise after Leshy's.

Also speaking of torturing his wizard students- LONELY WIZARD. OH MY FUCK..I ADORE YOU. YOU POOR THING OH GOD HOW LONG WERE YOU IN THERE?? I SWEAR I TRIED COMING BACK FOR YOU I REALLY TRIED. How did they actually get out?? Like, good for you buddy you're such a great dancer but how?

The most hnnnngggg moment of the game for me was probably in Act 3 where they told me that I could do whatever I wanted, sacrifice them on the board or whatever, just as long as I never give them back to Magnificus. At this point I'm starting to question my own memory on if that actually happened because Lonely Wizard oh gods I'm so sorry that happened to you you're just a little scrungle who wants to sing and dance why-

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

��Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

[your-nerd-is-showing]

Ooooof well this is something very, very, very different.....

Levi x Abused Reader: It's Never Too Late

TRIGGER WARNING: Abused reader, trauma! PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION! I was in a dark place today and ended up writing this to get my feelings out…..

Levi laid sound asleep in his bed it was early morning the sun was just starting to rise. A warm breeze blew into his open window bringing the scent of lavender with it, instantly waking him up. He sniffed the air. “Lavender….. Why is it always lavender? No matter where I go it’s all I smell.” He sighed and rested his head in his hands. “Why…. Why? All it does is remind me of her…. Why can’t I get her out of my head? I mean I was the one who was unhappy and broke up with her…. But now I’m even more miserable without her…. God Levi why are you so stupid!” He slammed his fists on his bed.

Meanwhile down the hall you were laying in your bed crying your eyes out in silence while your boyfriend was sound asleep. Your freezing hands gripped the blanket. “L-Levi… I-I m-miss h-him so-so m-much.” You started to cry louder. “I-I thought being with someone else would help me get o-over h-him but it’s making it worse…. I just compare him to Levi…. Fuck it’s no competition no one will ever come close to Levi…. Ever…. He is all I want in my life.” You stopped crying because your boyfriend was waking up.

He looked up at you. “(Y/N) don’t tell me you were crying over Levi again!” He shouted angrily and punched the wall. “God you’re so stupid for crying over a guy who dumped you over a year ago! Just get over him already!” He yelled louder.

“Oh just shut up Roy!” You screamed back at him. “It’s not that easy to get over someone I loved more than anything…. Levi was my entire world!”

“Excuse you bitch!” He grabbed your throat and started to choke you. “Don’t you EVER TALK TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!”

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?” Levi yelled as he busted down your door. He saw Roy choking you and pulled him off slamming his head into the wall. “You bastard you never lay your hands on her!”

“Hey what the hell happened?” Asked Hanji as she appeared in the doorway.

“H-Hanji arrest Roy he-he tried to hurt me!” You choked out as you caught your breath.

“Yes right away Captain (Y/N)!” She walked over to Levi. “Give him to me Levi I can take it from here. Go make sure (Y/N) is ok.”

“Tch…. Fine.” He handed Roy over to Hanji then walked over to you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He placed a comforting hand on your back, you looked at him and collapsed into his arms sobbing. “Shhhhhh it’s ok (Y/N).” He pulled you into a warm embrace and you started to cry more because you knew this was only temporary. He held you close trying so hard to comfort you as he ran his fingers thought your long (H/C) hair smelling your lavender shampoo.

“Fuck I miss her so much.” Levi thought to himself.

“I need him!” You thought to yourself and cried even more. “I need him….. I’m miserable….”

He pulled back to look over your injuries, your delicate body was covered in bruises and cuts. “(Y/N) what the hell was that bastard doing to you?” He asked he voiced laced with concern.

You looked away because you were ashamed that you let someone treat you like that.

He took your face in his hands and made you look at him, Levi's face was shrouded in a worried look. “Captain (Y/N) I asked you a question I expect an answer.” He said in a quiet voice soothing voice.

“C-can we not talk about it here where everyone is looking at us?” You sniffled and pointed at your door where everyone was now gathered.

Levi wrapped you up in a blanket he went to pick you up but you flinched when he moved too fast at you. He drew his hands back looking at you as you shuddered. “(Y/N) you know I would never ever lay a hand on you…. I'm going to wrap my arm around you now, okay?”

You looked at him as tears filled your eyes again, he wrapped his arms around you, instantly you clung to him. That all too familiar feeling of your heart racing as he held you in his strong arms, that feeling of safety for the first time in a long time you felt happy. You made your way to his room.

He locked the door behind you and brought you to the bed to sit you down. “I’m going to look over your injuries if that’s okay?”

You nodded your head. “Yes it’s fine Levi.” You said in a soft voice.

He took the blanket off of you his eyes widened in horror as he got a better look at what happened to you. There were the fresh hand marks on your neck, your wrists were bruised, your stomach was scratched up. “(Y/N) what that sicko do to you…..”

You held your face in your hands starting to sob again, Levi pulled you into his arms.

“That asshole broke you, I’ve never seen you like this before…. Why did you stay with him? You’re worth so much more.” He started to cry. “Y-you deserve so much more… F-fuck (Y/N) I'm so sorry that this happened to you.”

“Why are you apologizing? It was my own stupidity…. I tried to find someone else to fill the void you left…. When he hit me the first time as I was terrified to leave him…. You’re right Levi he did break me….”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner. You looked happy with him… God I'm such an idiot!” He said getting frustrated.

“Levi, I didn’t have a choice…. He told me that if I ever left him he would beat me near death…. I had to act happy or he would hit me…. But he was smart he never left marks where they could be seen. He made sure I suffered in silence…”

Those words went right through Levi like a cold wind. “I’m-I’m so sorry…. I was such an idiot to let you go…. (Y/N) I have never stopped loving you…. Please let me be the one to heal you. Let me be with you again. I swear on everything you will never ever suffer again.”

You looked at Levi and every worry you ever had was gone as those words left his soft lips. “Levi….” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

He held you close as he broke the kiss he looked at you, instantly the light came back into your beautiful (E/C) eyes, your cheeks were their beautiful light pink and that smile that made his heart stop, you came back to life. “So is that a yes?”

You giggled. “Yes silly it is a yes!” You kissed him again….

~End

[chaossmagic]

(another one bc i'm a thirsty bitch) AU prompt where Aaron kisses his best friend (they are teenagers) after school in the cricket pavilion. He regrets it because he thinks he's fucked up... But Robert proves him wrong. (then it starts raining)

He didn’t know why he’d done it. 

One minute, they were laughing and joking on the wooden steps outside the cabin at the cricket pavilion, taking in turns to swig a can of lukewarm beer that had been rolling around in Aaron’s school bag all day, and the next Aaron had leaned in to Robert’s solid warmth and was kissing him, soft lips under his slightly chapped own, his vision filled with floppy blond hair and pale sea-green eyes and freckles for miles across lightly tanned skin and then...

They were kissing.

Aaron and Robert. His best friend ever since he could remember, ever since tall, skinny, bookish Robert had defended an eleven-year-old Aaron from the sneers of Ross Barton at lunchtime, putting himself between the snotty Year Eight lad and him when he’d shoved his fist under Aaron’s ribs and made him cry. He’d been new to the school, having just moved back with his mum, but somehow he’d singled out Aaron and they’d been stuck together ever since.

And then he’d kissed him, he’d kissed his best mate because he’d wanted to and because he wanted to know what it felt like, what it felt like to kiss a boy because he didn’t want to kiss any of the girls in their year but Robert...

Robert was nothing like a girl, nothing like anything he was supposed to like at fifteen years old and just discovering everything to do with sex and dating. It was scary and confusing and made Aaron’s stomach do this funny swoop every time the older boy looked at him and smiled, or laughed at one of his jokes, or moaned on his shoulder about how sometimes he wished his dad and brother didn’t exist because he couldn’t stand them. 

So. They’d been a bit tipsy on cheap warm beer, pulling off their school ties and jumpers and throwing them in a messy pile on the grass while the sun shone on Robert’s blond head and turned the mop of hair into a halo, catching Aaron’s breath in his chest in a funny sort of way that made his palms tingle.

It wasn’t like that when he tried to look at the lasses in their year group, or the year above. Course, girls were pretty - Robert’s sister, Vic, was pretty, with her big eyes and long dark hair - and some of them even thought he was alright for a boy, but he didn’t want to kiss them or hold their hand. 

And then he’d kissed him, eyes fluttering closed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and holding on as if for dear life, the way a drowning man might hold on to a piece of rope thrown out to him in the middle of the ocean.

It was the biggest mistake he’d ever made, because when he’d realized what was happening, Robert had scrambled away from him as if he’d been burned, eyes huge with panic in an unusually pale face and the kind of look there that Aaron knew only meant one thing.

Horror.

He was horrified, horrified that a boy, his best friend, had kissed him and would probably never want to see him again, meaning that Aaron had lost his only real friend in the whole world and everyone one would know that...they’d know that...

He was a freak. 

A - fag.

The names he would be called imprinted themselves on the backs of his eyes, flashes of being shoved around in the corridors filling his thoughts, jeers and dirty looks from the boys at school who would no longer want him to play footie with them at lunchtime, even though he was the fastest and best player in their year. 

Sinking to the ground, he hugged his knees up to his chest and buried his head between his legs. The sky had darkened and it looked like rain; but he didn’t want go to home yet, in case he bumped into Robert, in case he had to see him and face up to what he’d done.

He’d lost everything. He knew he had. Tomorrow, Robert wouldn’t want to speak to him ever again, it would be all over the school, and Aaron would go from being reasonably tolerated to a social pariah.

Dirty. Queer. Sick.

There’s something wrong with you, lad….

Aaron started; heard his father’s voice clear as day inside his own head, as if he were leering right into his face and sneering the words in his ears. He saw the red veins on his cheeks and the hatred in his eyes. 

He felt vice-like hands gripping him too tightly, the weight of a body pressing him down even as he tried to thrash against it, and the emptiness that came afterwards, the numbness that was void of feeling, not even the physical pain. But there was always physical pain, afterwards, it would creep up on him in the late hours and leave him paralyzed in his bed, hunkering down under the covers and vowing to do better tomorrow.

A wave of nausea rose over him; he lurched forwards, retching into the grass, his throat burning from the effort of getting rid of what little there was in his stomach. Mostly beer, and the taste was bitter in his mouth. His head was starting to pound, and he didn’t know if the wetness he felt on his face was from the rain that had finally started or his own tears.

He’d messed everything up.

He should never have kissed Robert.

He should never have thought about kissing Robert, or about Robert, or about any boys at all…

Because it was wrong. It wasn’t allowed. His mum would be so disappointed, Paddy too, his Gran, his uncle...he had let them all down with this. With who he was. 

It would be better if he just didn’t go home for a bit. He was fine here, away from everyone. Nobody would come looking for him and a bit of peace and quiet might help him to sort his head out, make up some excuse for Robert when he saw him, and forget that it had ever happened.

---

It was raining, hard, large shining drops pummelling the decking outside the cricket pavillion and Aaron sat huddled under the awning, knees under his chin and his coat buttoned up to the throat for warmth; his eyes were red, sore, and he’d bitten his lip so much from worrying that it was starting to bleed. He was shivering, from the rain and the cold; his trainers were wet, and so were his socks, his school tie sodden where he’d forgotten it lying near one of the bushes.

Miserable. That’s how he felt. The weather reflected his mood, and he curled up further, the instinct to get somewhere warm and dry abandoning him. What would be the point? He may as well become the village vagrant, because that’s what he was going to be once everyone found out.

He didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs leading up to the awning over the rain and the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, and he didn’t see the oh-so-achingly familiar shadow of a tall, lanky someone standing over him with an umbrella in his hand until he heard his own name being repeated with the strains of worry and a little bit of fear trembling under it.

“Aaron,” Robert gasped, “I’ve been looking for you for ages. You didn’t come back and I - I got scared. I thought somethin’ had happened to ya.”

“Why do you care?” Aaron snapped. “After what I did you should be ignorin’ me, not running around chasin’ after me like you-”

Like it meant nothing.

“You’re my best friend,” Robert said, his brows knitting together with sincerity. “You just disappeared, I didn’t know where you were, and after you did - what you did…”

“Don’t say it!” Aaron jumped to his feet, anger flushing his face instead of the cold. “Don’t you dare say it, Robert, I mean it. I can’t handle it. Not if you’re gonna judge me or - or say you wish you were never mates with me.”

Robert’s eyes went huge, round with concern. His face was pale under rain-soaked hair that stuck to his forehead. Aaron always joked that he looked like he was thirteen with his hair like that, all flat and feathery and stuck to his head, instead of almost sixteen. Baby face Sugden, he’d call him, and Robert would jump on him and tickle him mercilessly until they were both out of breath and panting, and Aaron was forced to concede that he did, in fact, not look thirteen after all. 

“Why would I think that?” Robert asked. “You’re my best mate. I’m closer to you than I am to my own family. I don’t care what you are, whatever you are, I don’t give a stuff-”

“Well, maybe you should,” Aaron replied bitterly. “Because everyone is gonna hate ya if you stick around with me, because I’m-”

“Gay,” Robert finished for him, his voice softer than he’d ever heard it, and Aaron felt like a stone had plunged right to the bottom of his stomach.

He shook his head. “No. No, I don’t wanna hear that word. You shut your mouth right now.”

“It’s okay, you know, it doesn’t matter to me,” Robert said, taking a step forward - and Aaron saw red, shoving him hard in his chest, wanting him to get away.

“WELL IT SHOULD!” he bellowed. “I’m a freak, Robert, I’m sick and I’m wrong and you don’t want to be around me, got that? We can’t be mates anymore, we can’t -”

“It doesn’t matter to me because if you’re a freak then I am too!” Robert yelled across his words, shaking the pounding rain from his eyes. “I’m - we’re the same, Aaron. I’m sorry I haven’t told you before but I was trying to figure stuff out first. I’m like you. Not gay, but -” he looked around, half-dazed, chin wobbling. He looked years younger, and scared.  “I’m bi. Bisexual. I like boys and I like girls. So yeah, you’re not the only freak in this stupid village, alright?”

Aaron’s jaw dropped; his throat worked noiselessly, no sound coming out, his tongue glued to his mouth. A stunned, hoarse whisper eventually left him. “You’re - you’re what?”

“I should’ve told ya,” Robert said. “I should have but - I got scared, too.” He shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. “I thought you were the same way I was and I wanted - I wanted to say something, I swear, but I was afraid of getting it wrong and messin’ up our friendship.”

“But you ran away,” Aaron stuttered, sniffing. “I kissed ya and you ran away.”

“Only because I freaked out because I didn’t realize you felt the same way about me as I did about you,” Robert said - and Aaron’s heart lurched three beats in the space of one. 

Was Robert saying what he thought he was saying? 

“You don’t mean that,” Aaron shook his head. “Ya just feel sorry for me. You don’t -”

“Like you?” Robert asked, and then laughed, a disbelieving kind of laugh that made Aaron’s insides do a strange flip-flop as his meaning settled in. “God, Aaron, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. Year nine Chemistry lesson, I accidentally set Donna’s skirt on fire and you covered for me. You took a week’s worth of detention for me because you knew I’d get into more trouble for it and that my dad would lose it and end up belting me.”

“Yeah, well, I know your dad gives ya a hard time, I didn’t wanna make it worse for ya,” Aaron mumbled, toeing the wet grass with his trainers and caking them in mud. “But c’mon, Robert. You only think you like me because you’re my best mate. You’ll meet another lad and you’ll know - you’ll know,” he finished lamely. 

“I don’t want any other lads, or girls for that matter,” Robert replied. “You are my best friend, Aaron. You know more about me than anyone, more than I’ve ever told anyone, and you don’t hate me or think I’m just looking for attention. You listen to me. You believe me when dad starts in on me and you were the one who pushed me to tell my mum what he was really like. I don’t want to go with anyone else because there is no-one else.”

“I don’t know if I can believe ya,” Aaron said quietly. “My head, it’s messed up - I can’t promise I can give you what you want that’s more than just a best mate.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care, as long as we get a chance to try. Can we try? Please?”

Aaron’s heart thudded. He took in the sight of Robert, soaked through in the middle of the cricket field, face beseeching and earnest and more sincere in his expression than Aaron thought he had ever seen him. 

“Okay,” he nodded, eventually. “Yeah, yeah okay.” 

Nervously, he held out his hand for Robert to hold. He took it gratefully, his grip strong but comforting. Then he looked down at his sodden clothes and mud-caked shoes, at their dripping hair. “We should probably go and get some dry clothes, though. Mum’s going to kill me for having to wash my uniform again.”

“Wouldn’t mind if ya wanted to kiss me to warm me up,” Aaron said quietly, flushing pink and biting down on a shy smile that spread warmth through the end of Robert’s fingers right down to his toes.

[freespiritdani]

"But I didn't mean for this to happen..." Part 2 of 2

NOTE: I teach AP English at a high school in the USA. When I began this class this semester, I gave my class an assignment to write a fan fiction essay based on their favorite story, movie, show, or game. All but one of my students are Choices fans and wrote accordingly, Two of them (my daughter and my daughter-in-law) decided to team up and write one 2-part story. They gave me permission to share it here. You've already read Part 1 (I hope), now...submitted for your approval, here is Part 2.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaitlyn stepped off the Gulfstream at a little tiny airport just outside Northbridge. Ryan Summers, actor and fellow Hartfeld alum, had let Kaitlyn borrow his jet and pilot when Zack called her and told her about finding Alex dead.

She had slept fitfully during the cross-country flight. Alexandra Day and Kaitlyn Liao had been best of friends from the moment they met on their first day at Hartfeld. They were also lovers for a short time during freshman year. The memories of all the good times they had together was all that was helping Kaitlyn keep it together right at the moment.

Zack was waiting on Kaitlyn when she entered the terminal building. He ran up to her and gave her a bear hug, then he began to cry.

"I'm sorry I called you last night, but I didn't know who else to call," Zack said. "I went over to check on her like you or I have always done ever since she started drinking....and....and...she was lying on the couch, eyes open....not...not breathing...and..." Zack started sobbing.

Kaitlyn had started crying by now. She patted Zack on the back and said, "Don't apologize, Zack. Somebody had to let me know."

"And, Bec--" Zack started, but stopped abruptly when Kaitlyn's phone went off. She pulled it out of her hip pocket and checked it. A puzzled look came across her face.

"What the.....an email from Alex???" Kaitlyn asked, confused. She clicked on it and read it. "Ohhhhhhh myyyyyy god..." she said under her breath. "Alex, you little fool..." She bowed her head and slumped down into a seat in the lobby.

"Are you all right?" Zack asked.

Kaitlyn reached her phone to Zack. "She sent this at seven last night and queued it so I wouldn't get it until this morning after it was too late to do anything about it."

Zack read the email, then plopped down in the chair beside Kaitlyn and sighed. "Well, dear Alexandra," he said with a tone of resignation in his voice, "you're in good company, girlfriend."

"Zack Zilberg, the is the most inconsiderate thing I have ever heard you...." Kaitlyn paused, then it dawned on her that Alex's suicide wasn't the only bad news. "Is there something else you need to tell me?" she asked slowly.

Zack bowed his head. "Yeah," Zack said quietly, "there is. It's what I started to tell you when Alex's suicide note email came in. Becca committed suicide last night, too. Jumped off the eighteenth floor of the Hyatt here last night."

Kaitlyn's mouth dropped open. "Why? Did she leave a note?" she asked.

"No need. Madison was with her when it happened," Zack answered, then he proceeded to tell Kaitlyn what Madison had told him about the events of the night before.

Kaitlyn looked toward the ceiling, then began to cry. Zack silently reached over and held her to comfort her, as much for his own benefit as it was for hers. After a few minutes of this, Kaitlyn composed herself and stood up.

"Zack," Kaitlyn whispered, "I need to see them. Will you take me to them?" Zack opened his mouth to object, but Kaitlyn quickly continued, "Please, I beg you....I have to see them...I gotta do this for my own peace of mind."

Zack rose from his seat. "Okay," he said, trying to smile at his friend, "let's go."

An hour later, Zack and Kaitlyn were standing in the mortuary lobby, looking at the board listing all the bodies there. Kaitlyn found what she was looking for:

ROOM 2: DAY, ALEXANDRA J.

And a little farther down:

ROOM 8: DAVENPORT, REBECCA L.

They walked down to Room 2 and looked in. Near the coffin containing Alex's body, Kaitlyn spied a blonde woman standing and looking somberly in the coffin. No, it can't be! she thought. It's not possible! Then she remembered the girl in psychology class that went to Braidwood Manor and what she found. Or is it possible?

"Zack....would you mind waiting in the lobby? I need to be alone right now..."

Zack replied shakily, "Frankly, I want to get out of here, period. After finding her last night, right now I...I...I can't...can't see her...her..."

Kaitlyn put her hand on his shoulder. "If you want to leave me here and go, that's okay," she told Zack. "I understand. I'll be okay, and once I'm done here, I'll go get some rest and meet you back at your house at four. Okay?"

Zack put his hand on Kaitlyn's and smiled weakly. "Okay. Thank you."

Kaitlyn watched Zack leave, then she turned and walked to where Alex's body lay. She gently stroked Alex's cheek. "She's so beautiful," Kaitlyn whispered, then said in a normal voice, "Why'd you do it?"

The blonde said plaintively, "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean for this to happen.... I didn't want her to die...I just wanted to make things right between us..."

Kaitlyn turned and faced the blonde. "I know you didn't want her to die," she said gently. "I want to know why you wanted you to die, Becca. Why did you take that dive off the balcony?"

"Because my...." Becca paused. "Wait a second... You know I'm here? You can hear me? Because you're the first person who's even acknowledged my presence since...since...I landed on the street...."

"Kinda surprised me to see and hear you too," Kaitlyn replied, chuckling. "Then I remembered Hannah and her girlfriend and took the chance I wasn't hallucinating. So, I still wanna know: why did you jump?"

"Because..." Becca hesitated, looked in Alex's coffin, then said, "Because she's now dead and I caused it. She drank herself to death because of me...I know it. She drank herself to death because I was a selfish bitch that let my pride get the better of me."

Kaitlyn asked, confused, "How do you figure that?"

"You remember the blowup and breakup after I got accepted to transfer to Hawg," Becca replied. "Well, after it all went down, I knew the way I went about it hurt her....I'd made her cry....I was afraid to chase after her because I didn't want to make her cry again....so I threw myself into my studies, got my J.D., worked my way up to become the youngest District Attorney in California history....there's even talk -- scratch that, there WAS talk -- of me running for Attorney General next year....but...Kaitlyn....all that success, all that that glory...was hollow. It didn't fill the void that Alex left in me when we split up. All that I have -- had -- achieved...meant and means nothing without her... As each day went by...that empty feeling kept getting bigger, kept gnawing at me....It got worse every time I saw her on TV being interviewed after each best-seller she wrote, because she looked so happy without me....Finally, I'd had enough. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to talk with her and try to make things right...you know the rest....so, yeah, I killed her. I didn't mean for her to die .."

Kaitlyn sighed. "You didn't kill her, Becca. She killed herself. She sent me a suicide note by email," she said.

Becca was puzzled. "If I wasn't what caused her to take her own life, what was?" she asked.

"Well, technically, you were," Kaitlyn answered, "but not in the way you think. It wasn't anything you'd done, but something she'd done. According to her note."

"But...she never did anything to me! She was nothing but good to me!"

A voice came from behind them. "Yes I did, Becs. I did something bad to you. Three times."

Kaitlyn and Becca spun around. "ALEX!!!" Becca cried out.

"The first time was when I acted like a spoiled brat and walked out on you during the law school blowup," Alex continued. "The second time was last night when I gave you hell and walked out on you a second time without giving you a chance to talk....I screwed us both over with that one...had I taken the time to talk and listen, we probably wouldn't be in this situation..."

Kaitlyn looked at Becca. "She got you there, Davenport," Kaitlyn said, then looked at Alex and continued, "but you said three times. That's only twice."

Alex chuckled slightly and said, "Considering that my corpse is in this room, and that Becca's is three doors down because I made the one in here a corpse, number three is kinda obvious, don't you think?"

Becca looked at Kaitlyn and said, "She got you there, Liao."

"Oh, shut up!" Kaitlyn shot back.

Alex walked over and looked at her own body lying in the coffin. "I wish I could take it back, Becca," she said, regret and remorse showing in her voice. "The woman I loved, the woman I longed for, the woman I wanted to hold in my arms again, the woman I wanted to come back to me and take me and make me her wife...came back to me wanting to make things right between us....and I fucked it all up, ruining any chance of that happening...I couldn't take it. My life was over because I couldn't go on another day without her...so I sent Kaitlyn a suicide note via email, grabbed two bottles of tequila, guzzled both down in two minutes flat and...next thing I know... I'm standing up, sober as I can be, looking down at my dead body....".

Alex looked at Becca. "I died needlessly by my own hand. And because I did, you took your own life, also needlessly," she said ruefully. "I killed us...I'm ultimately responsible for both our deaths. Our blood is on my hands...and I can't do anything to make up for it and make it right...and...." She looked at Becca with sorrow and regret in her eyes. "...I have to deal with that for all eternity....I can't take back what I've done...I've condemned us to...to this....and...now...I have to face the fact that..that I caused us to never be together, ever...I'm so sorry, Becca...I never meant for it to be like this...."

"Are....Are you saying you don't love me anymore? You don't want to be with me anymore?" Becca asked dejectedly.

"I love you very much, Becca! I never stopped!" Alex replied. "But... we're dead. All we are now is a pair of ghosts. That sorta puts a stop to being with each other, doesn't it?"

Kaitlyn interrupted. "Umm, Alex... If Eleanor being a ghost didn't stop her and Hanna from being in love and being together, why would it stop you two?"

Alex thought, then looked at Becca. "After all I've done, after all the damage I've caused,":Alex asked nervously, "can you ever find it in you to forgine me?"

"I forgave you a long time ago, my love," Becca said gently. "Can you forgive me?"

Alex put her arms around Becca and kissed her tenderly. "I already have."

Becca put her arms around Alex and returned the kiss passionately. "Will you stay with me and be my woman?"

Alex smiled and looked Becca in the eyes, a deep love replacing the pain and regret that had been there earlier. "I'm yours for all eternity, my love! For all eternity!"

Kaitlyn smiled. It wasn't the way she wished it was, but her friends were back together at last.

[breitzbachbea]

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like), 6. What character do you have the most fun writing? 10. How would you describe your writing process? 16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?) -> I'm beging nosy and asking FOUR questions 👀😂

Oh Amber, PLEASE be nosy. I love answering questions about my writing or characters, even though I take 5000 years to answer.

Fun meta asks for writers

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Okay, I thought about this for a while and I think I have a few more I could also share (and I'd probably have a sizeable amount of scenes or sentences if I reread ALL I wrote). But this scene was the thing that came to mind first and stuck the most.

From Italian Affairs, Chapter 9 "Drained Chances", Scene 3:

“I know I have to make up for what a jerk I’ve been”, he said. “But I still wish I could just forget.” He looked back into the room and spotted the wine bottle on a sideboard. “Charlie, you’ve got to face this”, Harry said and Michele sighed: “Okay we’ve got to think sober about this situation. Well, you do, Charlie.” “Damn right”, he muttered before walking over to the sideboard, almost falling over when he came to a hold with his hands on its upper side: "I have to correct my mistakes tomorrow!" “That’s the spirit!”, Harry said and Michele smiled. “You most certainly have the right ideas even now, Charlie.” “I have fucked up but I am a grown man and like that I will take responsibility for my actions!” He had grabbed the bottle even before the other two could yell “No!” and they only watched in horror as he emptied it. Charlie held down a burp, put the bottle back on the table and smile confident: "I have to talk to him again and explain myself." “And there it goes down the drain, the last piece of his common sense”, Harry hissed. “Thanks for lending me your ear, guys”, Charlie said and took a wobbly step away from the sideboard. “I am going back to my room now, enjoy your night.” He walked towards the door: “Or maybe I could try to talk to Marco again – no, that’s a stupid idea.” “You just drank half a bottle of wine in one go, mate, you are not going anywhere”, Harry said and Michele sighed but Charlie waved his hand while he staggered towards the door. “Don’t let me cockblock you, Happy fucking.” And with that he tripped and fell to his knees. He frowned at the floor while Michele got up to help him. “You know, Michele”, Charlie said while the Sicilian pulled him on his legs. “On second thought it might have been six beer.”

'Don't let me cockblock you, happy fucking', followed immediately by Charlie tripping and nearly falling on his face is deadass THE funniest thing I have ever written. I love how hilarious the entire situation is, solely because Charlie is an impulsive son of a bitch who keeps making bad decisions. Whenever he seems on track, he just cannot shut his mouth, he just cannot control a whim for a moment too long and it bites him in the ass the very next second. I love him so much. Furthermore, the scene itself is a perfect blend of wit and slapstick. I've outdone myself here.

Also, fuck you, ao3 says I have 382 170 words uploaded right now and that is still far from all I've ever written. So you're getting another scene.

From Smudged Makeup & Cleaning Up:

“I hate myself,” she said in French. “I hate myself and I hate him, I hate both of them so much,” she sobbed as her breath hitched and tears began to run down her face again. “Don’t cry again, shhht, don’t do that,” Hugo whispered and began to rock from side to side. “It’s okay, it’s nothing to cry about.” “I wouldn’t have to see it if I had just opened my stupid mouth and had told him how I felt, if I had just told him these stupid three words I now wouldn’t have to see this.” Her voice was something between a whisper and a hiss.

There are at least two more little paragraphs I could have shared from that one-shot, so I decided to go with the most emotional part. I reread it last night and I still think it is a pretty damn good piece of writing. It's funny, interesting and it shows all of the characters (Timothea, Hugo, Arielle) and their relationships to one another marvellously. I'd sincerely reccommend it to everyone, although the (not as good for sure) A French Trio Of Bad Decisions may be required reading to understand who Arielle is talking about in the above excerpt. (Amber, since you already read that one though, you can just go and enjoy Smudged Makeup & Cleaning Up as your first taste of Thea before you delve into The Amulet for more <3)

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

That's a good question! I was going to go through Irish Problems and Italian Affairs again, tallying up who has how many POV Scenes, but gave up rather quickly; it's just very hard to determine with all the headhopping that happens in the beginning. Last time I checked it was Harry. The following list is by no means exhaustive and talks mainly about the characters as POV characters. I very much enjoy writing all of my children, whether they're the POV character or not in any given scene.

Charlie is definitely one of them, I feel very at home in his head and he's so much fun to write. His catastrophizing, his intense but jumpy emotions, his impulsivity and kindness, his dialogue and thoughts ... He is so much fun. I'd have to lie to say this gay adhd mess doesn't hold a special place in my heart.

Francesco is another good one, solely because I love being in his head. It's a nightmare in there at times, but that's what makes it fun. Let the sadism fight the catholic guilt, the lust for pleasure at all cost the need for kindness. He's a very vibrant character with an undeniable presence in each scene he is in and it's always fun to write interesting characters.

Lovino's also always a blast. His ranting, his annoyance, his fidgeting (oh, god, if someone asks me for a favourite scene again, I am sharing the one where he shuffled around too much during a car ride and ended up folded like a lawn chair in the footwell). The tumultous inside of his head, his doubts, his fears. I have nothing but love for him and I already miss him, despite not technically having finished Italian Affairs. The rewrite is still ahead of me and I am going to savour every single moment I get to write my favourite South Italian.

Last but not least a shoutout to Hugo. I think he is very interesting as well, with the masks he wears and the intensity that lies beneath them. He's both a sweet young man AND a fuckboy AND a little bitch. The only problem with Hugo is that I'm never 100% sure in his characterisation and have to consult Jonah, his creator, in those cases.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Messy as shit for being this organized - or Surprisingly organized for being messy as shit. I've developed this process over the past eight years and I'll probably keep tweaking screws as time goes on.

This is my process for my big, multi-chapter, novellength main series entries. Anything else usually gets done in a similiar fashion, just with some of the steps lacking. (I didn't vomitdraft for rarepairweek, for example, nor did I do the proofreading on paper because deadline.)

1. I make an outline. I used to call this "Scene Plan", because it is just that - a list of each scene, with a very short description that makes no sense to anyone but me. Seriously, YOU tell me what is going on here:

2. I collect all snippets that come to mind for a series in a document; if I already have an outline, I copy whatever scene they would belong to as a header. Those things happen all the time, it isn't a conscious effort.

3. I take those snippets, paste them into Quollwriter and then vomitdraft for a few days. Each day around 500 words, as fast as possible. Whatever comes to mind goes onto the page, rarely backtracking. It's not about it being presentable, it's about having something written that serves as skeleton for the scene. I research jack shit at this point and directly type (Look this shit up) into the text.

4. Once a scene/chapter is done, I copy it into word and read through it to take notes in a little notebook. I write down what to research, what I like in the draft, what I dislike and what I still ponder. I try to draw the first connections to give the chapter a coherent feeling. (Chapters for the main series consist of three scenes, so I take notes for a scene and edit it before I repeat the process for the next - I don't take comments for three scenes in a row.)

5. I begin to edit the scene with a goal of 200 words a day. I usually exceed it; during a very bad day I fall a little short of it. I try to write every day or every two days, unless something else requires my focus more (like a term paper). Oftentimes I start a writing session with tweaking what I did the day before, before I continue. I usually also do the research as it is called for at this stage - The Amulet was the only time I did research before I even begun to write. My usual timer is 30 Minutes, but I tend to write for a little longer if I am in the flow. Or I sit there for 4 hours to finish a scene because I am THAT much in the flow and I want the GODFORSAKEN THING DONE.

6. Once I finished editing the chapter or one-shot, I print it out and go through it with a red gel pen. I correct typos, formatting errors or formatting choices I don't agree with. I rewrite sentences that I think read clumsily and cross out words that repeat too much. I sometimes add things to moments that are lacking or I cross out sentences that now feel unnecessary. Once finished, I apply the corrections to my document.

7. If I have a beta-reader (like the lovely @swabianmapley for Herz Auf Beat), this is the point at which I send them the document and wait for their feedback & corrections.

8. I post the thing onto the black void that is The Internet, lie to myself that I don't care about feedback & yet still keep checking ao3 for new hits/kudos/bookmarks/comments and begin the same process for my next project a few days later.

16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

Hmm. I don't know if it counts, but in the coffee one-shots for rarepairweek I tried to make peace with the 'holes' I left. To not explain everything, but let the reader draw their own conclusion. Aside from that ... Been trying to put more emotion into my writing. I felt so unsatisfied with the big Charco kiss at the end of Italian Affairs that I'm now making an effort into describing emotions and sensations more, especially internally and not simply physically.