#It's been a few months since I wrote a full story my dudes

[aspiringtrashpanda]

🔥I’m Alive🔥

In the literal, physical sense, at least.

See below for a long ramble about my life and what I'm working on. No reason, really. Just felt like shouting into the void. 

Not like I'm a super popular writer or anything, but maybe some of you have noticed that I've kinda disappeared over the last few months. Long story short, I went back into restaurant management, despite such a position sending me on mental health leave a few years ago due to a lack of work-life balance and deep depression.

That leave + regional lockdowns during the early stages of the pandemic were actually what got me back into writing in the first place. I rediscovered a passion I had had in high school, and had since abandoned because I didn't have time to do anything other than work, and then partake in less than productive activities afterwards with coworkers... where all we would talk about is work. The restaurant industry is emotionally and mentally draining, my dudes.

So, I wanted a change. I moved back home and told my parents I wanted to focus on writing while I bartended part time. They were supportive at first, but when I wasn't pumping out original work quickly, they started pushing me towards full time work. Money is important, I get it.

Unfortunately, I'm not qualified to do much else other than manage fancy-ish restaurants and I am really good at it. So, I tried again, and dropped off the face of the universe. Sure enough, I was tasked with an inappropriate amount of responsbilities for garbage pay and I once again found myself letting my hobbies (which are very important for my mental health) slide. I left that restaurant and have taken another restaurant job that I start on Monday... It sounds like it will be easier to manage. Fingers crossed.

ANYWAY, that’s why I haven’t been posting or updating much. On top of that, I feel like I’ve lost a lot of inspiration for my current works. I’m so tired and drained all the time, and just thinking about my fics is almost overwhelming. It brings me down often - how am I supposed to enjoy life if all I do is work and I don’t have the time to do the things I love? I’m terrified of sliding into a deep depression again.  Thankfully, one fic lives rent free in my brain. You see, I’m working on a sequel to Crystal Clear - my fever dream of a Steven Stone/Reader fic that I wrote in like a month (the things I can do when inspiration takes me...). The thing is, I’m not sure if I will ever post it. 

I’m conflicted. I had an idea for a sequel as soon as I finished the fic. It would take place a couple months later and would be a fairly long, fluffy one shot with a happy ending to make up for the bittersweet open ending of CC. But then, I had a dream. 

Let me tell you, dreaming the continuation of a fic you wrote is pretty wild and super immersive (probably because the world and plot and everything is SO PROMINENT in your subconscious). It was nothing like the follow up I had planned, and something I really didn’t think I’d ever be interested in writing. When I woke up, I was left with a lingering feeling of confusion and loss and a bit of a “...huh.” The more I thought about it, though, the more it made sense. And then I started sitting down and actively planning it out and yeah, I feel like it flows so nicely with the other fics in the series, and carries over many recurring themes. If you look at the end of CC as “the bad ending” (because really, they made a choice, and it was probably not the best choice to make, albeit the safe one), I feel like the continuation is sure to reflect the regret and resentment that would build between the characters.  I decided to embrace the “reader” as an OC. I gave her a name. I solidified her story. She was already more a character than “reader” anyway, but crossing into the Steven Stone/OC fandom is kinda scary and I don’t know how this will be received. And not only because of that - the fic deals with some themes that are definitely not everybody’s cup of tea, and I’m scared of people who liked CC being like “wtf is this?” because it isn’t the continuation that they pictured for themselves as “reader”. Not to mention, there’s a significant time skip, in which the characters have changed and grown and developed. What if people think they’re OoC because of how I’ve interpreted their reactions to certain choices? I feel like these characters are no longer “Steven” and “Wallace” and “reader”, but different versions that live in a completely different world that belongs to me. 

I’m a few chapters in, and I’m really loving how it’s turning out. I think it might be my baby, my labor of love. And that’s why posting it and not getting much reception (or negative reception) for it terrifies me. But I also want to share something I’m proud of. And I know I shouldn’t be writing for other people. I should be writing for myself. But validation and praise are nice and they make me feel good and I DON’T KNOW, I’m just not sure what to do. 

It’s not like I need to decide now, anyway. I’d like to write some more chapters before I start (IF I start posting), so there’s time to think about it. 

So yeah. That’s my ramble. Thank you for listening, void. 

TrashPanda out. 

[misty-groves]

Migraine day

*this is all pre-character development and so they are still at their worst rn. This is the start of Tucker showing Josie he isn't the worst towards women. (Eventually I will wrote a cohesive story with them swearsies)

-------

It's months after Josie arrives to bloodgulch that she is fully incapacitated by her chronic illness and pain. The migraine and muscle spasms have her hiding in the dark of her room.

Church has taken pity on her and sent Caboose out with Shiela to do something. The man dosen’t show care well but he understands the pain.

There's banging on her door and she whines into her pillow. "Go away."

"Sweetcheeks! Come on lunch is ready-"

"Fuck off." Josie snaps, harsher than she has been in her whole time here. She can't make herself deal with this shit.

"Woah, you don't gotta be a bitch-"

"I will eat your fucking kidneys, get the fuck away from my door, asshole." Josie growls loudly, trying to keep her breathing even as another muscle spasm starts.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?"

"Tucker leave her the fuck alone." Church snaps as footsteps approach her door. "She feels like shit."

"What is she on the rag?"

"Dude what the fuck?" Church manages, trying to decide how stupid his teammate is.

"You dumb asshole, I'm- God fucking damn it!" Josie breaks off into cursing and whimpers as pain tears violently down her back.

There's silence, and Josie thanks every deity she can conceptualize regardless of knowledge.

"Sorry I asked if you were on the rag..." Tucker says, sounding odd.

"Please fuck off." Josie groans, curling together.

Footsteps recede, and she allows herself to whine again. She can't do this. She can't do it. She dosen’t know how she's going to survive this without her old team.

She's had migraines and muscle spasms since she got here. But she's been able to push through them. Bit this set-

She thinks she might like to try dying again.

"You need to drink more liquids." Omikron chimes as he flickers to life above her.

"Fuck. That. Moving is agony."

"I know."

Josie loses track of time, managing to drink a little liquid. With all the water gone, she has personally resorted to Gatorade she procures from an UNSC contact.

She startles when someone enters her room, the lifht causing a full body flinch and a keen of pain. The door shuts quickly though.

"Hey uh... I brought you a protein shake and uh- some more pillows." Tucker says.

"What?" Josie asks dumbly.

"Look I get it. Chronic pain sucks. Or well- I don't but you know what I mean."

"Oh. Shit- thanks?"

Tucker sets the protein shake on her bedside table and sets segral pillows beside her on the bed. "My sister has migraines... they're a bitch."

"You have a sister and talk to women the way you do?" Josie manages, though her voice pauses a few times.

"You're not the first to think that." Tucker says, "Did you want some pain killers?"

"I couldn't find them."

"I'll get some."

"Does upir sister know you're a raging dough nugget?"

"Marcy hates it." He admits, not bothering to elaborate.

She dosen’t press. But she thinks it bumanzies him a little. He's still a massive asshole, but like- human.

Tucker leaves again. Josie just slumps backwards.

She allows herself to adjust the pillows to better hold her weight. She relishes the comfort Omikron sends through her mind. Her ever loyal friend.

When Tucker comes back he hands her some pain killers. "Here."

"Thank you." Josie manages.

"Yeah well, I'm not a total asshole."

Josie dosen’t know what to say to that. But she swalllws the pills without question.

Josie takes a slow breath, rubbing her temples. She's fine. This is fine.

"Here." Tucker says, setting a cold eye mask on her stomach.

"Where did you get this?"

"Don't worry about it."

Josie wants to argue. But she’s in no position. She groans as yet another muscle spasm down her spine rips through her.

She places the mask on her face and immediately bates the new temperature. But it will help probably. She's willing to try.

"Can- do you want anything else?"

"I don't even know. Thank you though."

"Alright. Uh- call if you need me."

Josie makes a choice. She hates to be alone when she's in pain. And Tucker is right here.

And yes, he is a sexist asshole who calls her weird pet names. Yes, he is derogatory towards women. Yes he is a selfish man.

And yet he came and helped her. More than any one else here has. He hasn't made one sexjoke since he came in.

"Can- can you stay?" Josie asks.

"You sure?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

Tucker snorts at that, "Okay sweetcheeks."

Josie still dosen’t love that name but whatever. She's been called worse.

He sits on the ground beside her bed, running over stories from his life. The longer he talks the less he thinks. He ends up talking about his sister a little, and his nephew.

He talks about Church and the man's bitching mood. He talks about how they ended up drinking ketchup. He talks about captain flowers who he knew for less than two days.

Josie just listens. He's still a coarse asshole, and when he talks about women that aren't his sister he's crass as hell, but he has really opened her eyes.

He's still a major asshole... but like- not a complete utter duchebag.

Josie falls asleep to the sound of him talking. And when she wakes up hours later Tucker is there still, stretched out on the floor asleep.

She frowns as she squints at his form, that can't be comfortable. She's not a huge fan but he just spent hours helping her, so she's not going to just let him sleep on the floor.

So, she calls his name until he wakes up.

"What?" Tucker croaks.

"That dosen’t seem comfortable." Josie says simply.

"Are you offering ypir bed?"

"Not that way for sure."

Tucker just laughs. He has no issue with Josie. He thinks she's funny and bad ass.

[angie-j-kay]

A few years ago I watched TWO classes of my 2nd graders carry out a full-on union-style collective action against a verbally abusive essay writing teacher that the private school administrators kept covering up for. They didn't want the scandal of firing the abuser, just figured he was halfway through his contract anyway so they'd be rid of him more easily by waiting it out.

Dude traumatized a little girl in 202-B class because she mentioned Satan in her essay as a joke: threatened and humiliated her and sent the poor thing into hysterics in front of all of her friends. On the day they learned about César Chávez and how union strikes worked in my reading comprehension class, 202-B learned about the existence of "grownup bullies."

So 202-B class and 202-A class spent the next month calmly shoehorning gory, gothic, horror movie shit into every single essay they wrote, driving the teacher so off the rails that his shouting sent every kid in the school home with stories to their parents about how horrible M***** Teacher was. Admin could convince the parents that a kid here and there was making shit up about a teacher, but they couldn't cover up 200 children's worth of complaints.

Admin was faced with a choice: either do literally anything about this absolute monster of a teacher who had no business being around children, or watch most of the parents in the school pull their kids (and their tuitions) out. As I had explained to the kids in the César Chávez lesson (NOT knowing what these mischievous little 9yos were planning), money always wins in these fights.

M***** Teacher was removed from everything but the bare minimum, most awful classes. They had to rearrange every single teacher's schedule to make this happen. He threatened to sue, the school produced a whole file of parent complaints and teacher recordings of his screaming and threats, dared him to do so, and pointed out that they had more than enough evidence to have him deported if he didn't shape up.

And two classes of 9yos who had rallied around a sobbing little goth girl won the day. I've never been as proud before or since of any of my students.

I'm trying to find some good in the world

[iamapoopmuffin]

Of Apples And Spooks

Fandom: Pokemon Characters: Bede, Gloria (Female Player Model - Custom Name used (Mavis)), Hop (Mentioned), Mimikyu Relationships: Dressedinpinkshipping (Bederia)

Legend says if you catch an Applin and gift it to the person you love, your love is destined to succeed. It is commonplace in Galar to gift an Applin to someone as part of a love confession.

Sometimes, an Applin simply isn’t the right gift for the person you love.

Mavis had been planning this for a while. Ever since Mori, her beloved Mimikyu, had laid that egg. Maybe a little before that, if she was honest. The important thing was she had an idea, and once it was in her head, she was going to make it work. This plan in particular was very important. It could make or break the next stage of her life.

She decided to put her plan into action at the final stage of the gym challenge, after the final battle. That in and of itself had made her a bit nervous, she had to admit. If anything, she was hoping she'd be able to ride the adrenaline rush from a successful battle to give her the courage to just do it, but if she lost the opposite could happen. She could lose her motivation and her bravery, could chicken out and never get a good opportunity to do it again. When it came down to it, however, she really didn't need to doubt herself or her abilities. She was a strong trainer, highly skilled, and a brilliant strategist, if she did say so herself.

So here she was, nervous, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, still in the Champion uniform because she honestly wasn't sure if she would have time to change, so best not to chance it, about to talk to him.

Mavis had had the courtesy to do this away from the public eye. She had asked Bede to come with her to a side room to talk about something important. Hop said he would make sure no-one disturbed them, no fans or journalists, no other gym leaders, not even well wishing friends and family. She was thankful for that. Hop had been the first person Mavis had told when she realised she had feelings for Bede, and the first one she told when she decided she was going to confess her feelings to him. He had been nothing but encouraging and supportive the whole way, her best and most reliable friend right through to the end.

"So?" Ah yes, back to the present. Bede was watching her fiddling with her shirt, a look halfway between amusement and concern on his face. Had he ever seen her quite this flustered? She wasn't sure. "What do you need to talk to me about?" "Oh! Right! Well...first, I need to give you something. Sort of a gift." "'Sort of' a gift?" "A gift." "What for?" Now he just looked confused. It wasn't like he'd done anything to merit this, or like any kind of special occasion was today as far as he knew. She shrugged her bag off and began to dig through it. "That's what I'll need to talk to you about." There it was. She pulled a pokeball from her bag and opened it. There was a flash of light, and then between them stood a single small Mimikyu in a shining silver disguise. "A Mimikyu." Bede stated blankly as Mavis continued to pull things from her bag. "That's right!" Laying a smaller bag on the floor beside the Mimikyu, she waved her hand at the Pokemon excitedly. "This is Spoop!" "Spoop...you named your Pokemon Spoop..." "Yep! She also answers to Spooplet. A Spooplet is the proper term for a baby ghost, after all." "It's...really not." "Yes it is." "Fine, whatever, I'm not going to argue with you over something so stupid. Why are you giving me...Spoop?" He pulled a face when he said the name. It almost made her laugh. "Okay." She stood and clapped her hands together. "So your gym is fairy type, and I know you don't have a Mimikyu, and I've prepared a bunch of different outfits for her so she can fit Miss Opal's pink theme as well. See, my Mori happened to have a baby and I thought I could give her a good home with you. You're a good trainer, and your Pokemon are all happy and healthy, and having Spoop on your team now and then would help make the Gym Challenge a bit more interesting for some people, and she's grown a little already, I think the two of you would get on really well. You're the best person to give Spoop to and I know she'd be really happy to have a trainer like you." She crouched down and gently lifted Spoop into the air, smiling all the way. That was when Bede seemed to notice the shadowy arms of the Pokemon. They shimmered and caught the light, and were tucked behind its back, carefully concealing something. "Is she holding something?" He asked, craning his neck to one side to get a better look. "Spoop has a gift for you too!" Excitedly, Mavis spoke to the creature cradled in her arms. "Show Bede what you have for him, sweetie." Spoop made a noise that sounded happy and drew her hands out from behind her back, waiting until Bede held his own hands out before handing over the held item.

It was a red and brown ball with green extras attached, made to look like an Applin. "She's giving me one of her toys?" He asked, turning the ball over in his hands. He looked confused again, and honestly unimpressed. "Well..." Mavis hesitated, not sure how to explain this. "Yes, but it's more what the toy is that's important." He looked over it again. Then his eyes widened in understanding. "Are you trying to...? This isn't some kind of joke, is it?" He turned, looking around the room as if expecting to see someone spectating, laughing at his expense. "No...Bede, no, I...I really do like you." She waited until he was looking at her before continuing. "I like you a lot. More than I've liked anyone before. Listen...you don't have to like me back, if you don't, that's fine, I just hope this doesn't make things awkward between us because the last thing I'd ever want is to lose you as a friend. It would be nice to be a little bit more than friends, but if friends is all we'll ever be then I'm okay with that too. And you don't have to take Spoop if you don't want to, I just thought this would be a better idea than giving you a real Applin. After all, you don't train dragon or grass types, and you'd bond a lot better with something you could use in battle. I thought it would be better if I went to the effort of, you know, personalising this confession to you, showing you I do care about you and that I know you fairly well and all. I wouldn't say perfectly, but I do know you. Anyway, you wouldn't have had to take Spoop if you didn't want to at all, it's just a cute way of presenting the toy Applin with a bonus new friend if you do want to take her." One of the problems with Mavis was that when she got nervous, she rambled. Figuring she wasn't going to stop talking any time soon, Bede quietly handed the toy back to Spoop.

This action actually caused Mavis to quiet down, however. Maybe she thought this was a rejection, or maybe she recognised she was about to get an answer of some kind, but whatever she was thinking, she trailed off and looked at Bede expectantly. The quiet as Bede tried to figure out what, exactly, he wanted to say wasn't that long, but seemed to drag on for an eternity. Finally, he seemed to decide. He nodded, reached out to take Spoop, but let his hands rest over Mavis'. "I do too. Like you a lot, I mean." "Really? Really?!" With a squeal, she shifted Spoop to one arm and threw the other around him, pulling him into a hug. Squeezed between them, Spoop also wrapped an arm around him, deciding she might as well be a part of this hug. As for Bede, his arms were trapped between them whether he wanted to hug back or not.

In the end, Spoop went home with Bede, and the two trainers decided to give a relationship a try. Bede had tried to say Spoop should stay with Mavis, giving the fact they may have already bonded as a reason. She suspected that really he was just embarrassed at having to use the name 'Spoop' in a battle situation. Spoop herself had chosen to go with him in the end, and with them they took the little bag Mavis had given them, full of various handmade cloth disguises. A Sylveon, a Hattrene, a Snubbull, all sorts of different fairies to disguise as. And of course they brought the Applin ball along. It was, after all, Spoop's favourite toy, and part of a precious and heartfelt gift from one of Bede's favourite people.

[bomberqueen17]

weekend update

I still haven’t finished like unpacking from vacation and whatever. I thought I’d get a lot of writing done this past week, since Dude was traveling for work, but mostly I wound up hunched over my computer in darkened rooms with the cat glued to me as I ate defrosted ravioli. I don’t cope well, on my own.

But this weekend! This weekend, he was home, and someone else could hold the cat. So I got a ton of writing done, which wasn’t what I’d intended at all but was what I did. Part of it though is that I wasn’t alone, in person or online. I had a great chat session in one particular Discord, where people were talking about something else and I was like oh this is perfectly adaptible for my needs and then had an entire B-plot for a thing I’d been stuck on. And then in a chat with just a couple of people, I wound up persuading someone to write a story I wanted written, by volunteering to co-author, and I promise I spent the whole time in the doc, but I only wrote like. Ha maybe like five percent of it, and the others wrote a few bits here and there, and then this person who had said “well I’m not writing it, but let me get those ideas down” went and wrote like. Oh I think it’s over 7k long.

(There aren’t a lot of writers I can’t actually physically keep up with, but they do exist. Y’all shall see when this thing gets posted.)

It was just so nice to be in company though. I don’t think I could always work like that, but it’s so-- writing can be really lonesome sometimes and this was not, so it was super nice.

In other news, this wound up being something of a companion piece to another thing I had started coauthoring about two months ago, sort of in commemmoration of-- well, I reached a Tumblr follower milestone, which isn’t a thing I celebrate, but I posted that I should, and someone sent me a lovely ask with a suggestion of a thing I should write, which normally I’d, well I’m not good at taking hints y’know? but it hit just where a friend and I had been pondering anyway, and so we got started on that but then February got very dark, but then this weekend we looked again and oh! we had nearly finished it???? and hilariously I just hit *another* (minor) follower milestone yesterday and also really actually formally finished the thing yesterday, so--

probably I’ll have that to post today, if i can get things settled here. (Am at work, left myself something of a mess on Friday, complicated things, whatever. We Shall See.)

but I also busted through some smallish blocks where I didn’t know how to proceed on both my major WIPs, so. Alas, commenters are all really expecting Fit For Pearls to go a direction I had not anticipated, so this may wind up coming across as a twist, but I promise it is not I just hadn’t known how to get where I was going. But meanwhile, Yennefer in Vergen is chock-full of B-plots and some new original characters, so that’s going to be a great deal of fun.

[tricktster]

So I once again have a lot of new followers, meaning that it’s time for my periodic disclosure that I started this blog back in 2015 to promote *deep breath* my Explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic, Chill or Be Chilled.

If you’re rolling your eyes at that title, that’s totally justified because it was super halfassed, much like I initially expected the whole fic would be. If you’re rolling your eyes at the words “explicit,” “Sans,” and “Reader,” buddy, you aren’t alone, because I never would have chosen that particular combo of content and characters if I hadn’t been up to a scheme to bilk you fuckin’ rubes for all you’re worth.

I’m kidding. Kind of. Like, I didn’t really think that it would ever go anywhere at the outset: I began writing a few months after I graduated grad school and immediately thereafter got incredibly, INCREDIBLY sick, leading to a month long hospitalization that absolutely destroyed my path to get a paid job in my chosen field for about a year (I had to wait months to take a qualifying exam that’s only offered twice a year due to the hospitalization.)

So there I was, recovering from medical trauma, bored and aimless, unemployed, wildly depressed, and suddenly trying to scrape by in my manhattan apartment without a revenue source or student loans to facilitate my doing so. At the time, I was just like “eh, I’ll try my hand at writing fanfic, how hard could it be? and like, maybe i can get some people to donate money if I get enough clicks… and then I can use that money to buy food that isn’t just toast/ketchup sandwiches!!!!!”

What can I say? It honestly wasn’t my wildest scheme; it was 2015, I was seeing tons of thirsty Sans content on tumblr, I’d actually played Undertale so for once I had some context for THE popular tumblr fandom of the time… aaand honestly, I just thought it would be hilarious to write an entirely earnest sex scene where one of the participants was a literal skeleton. I studied screenwriting pretty seriously in college, I knew how to write dialogue and set up a vague narrative arc, I figured I’d write like 15 chapters and maybe get 50$ from generous readers if i was lucky.

Weirdly, even at the very beginning, this plan seemed to actually play out as I hoped? I was only giving it like 40% effort and I was writing absolute fluff for the most part, but I still picked up a few hundred readers and even got a few donations that permitted me to enjoy both pasta AND sauce at the same time!

The thing is, like I said, that I spent my undergrad years writing and critiquing screenplays. I knew that what I was writing could only be engaging for so long without some force driving the narrative, and it turned out that I couldn’t turn the part of my brain that was constantly analyzing plot structure off. And like… I liked writing fiction again. I’d stopped doing that once the 2008 recession turned all the entry level positions that could eventually lead to a writer’s room gig into unpaid internships, forcing me to abandon my dreams and instead pursue the goal of Being A Rich Corporate Asshole. I was actually pretty good at that last part (still am), but I missed writing fiction; more specifically, I missed writing GOOD fiction. I discovered that in spite of my initial lazy intentions, I couldn’t just keep halfassing it.

So, I decided to full-ass it. I began outlining and seriously working on my character development, and since I was the one writing it, I decided that it would be the kind of story I’d actually want to read - sure, there would still be some fluff, I’d still write a few skeleton sex scenes (and I wasn’t wrong, those WERE hilarious to write), but there would also be action and eldritch horrors and quippy dialogue and a billion plot twists down the road that I’d have to earn by laying the groundwork down up front.

Once I decided to fully commit to telling a story, I started having a ton of fun with it, and the quality improved exponentially…. and now, years down the road, I am the author of a 484k word, 176 chapter undertale fanfic that is currently the 884th most kudos-ed work on Ao3, which doesn’t sound that impressive until you consider that’s 884 out of 8,713,596, which puts it in the top .0001 percent. And that, unless I got the math wrong, is a batshit bonkers insane percentile to be in. It took some fuckin’ WORK, my dudes, but as a result I can now say with full sincerity that I am incredibly proud of the explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic that, as one anon once pointed out, I kind of wrote as a joke for an audience of myself?

Anyway, I’m sharing all this because like after years and years of having this information in my head I just managed to FINALLY explain to @wrexie the exact layout of the location that like 70% of the story takes place in - I never managed to shake the screenwriting instinct to keep the location budget manageable - and now I feel like my soul can finally rest. Unfortunately, I was able to do that by sharing google maps photos of a mansion that I drove by a lot in high school, and it seems super invasive to the owners to plop that in a public post, but if you’ve read it and you FINALLY want to understand where all the rooms are in relation to each other, DM me and I’ll send you a screenshot lol.

Also, if any if this intrigued you, you should probably give the fic a shot, the link’s at the top of this post. As I mentioned, the first few chapters are pure fluff, but the plot starts to pick up steam pretty early on… and then you hit chapter 44, the pandering is officially put to rest, and from that point forward it’s a goddamn blast.

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / modern vikings au, Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note: long story short, I wrote this series but used an OFC that I use for most of my longer series. many thanks to @victoria-styles for her suggestion of making it a reader / Y/N story. major plot tweaks as well.

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend: you.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✎

“Not into the million dollar bullshit?” You heard a voice beckon from behind you, stepping forwards with a light to start the cigarette that hung between your Oxford red stained lips.

“Crawling through the depths of hell sounds more pleasant than being here,” You grumbled back through the cloud of grey smoke slipping past your lips. You watched the figure next to you light up his own cigarette, taking note at how his fingers curled around the stick as he laughed with your words. “I’m only here to calm Hvitserk,”

“And he’s not even here,” He said back with a laugh, blue eyes peeking to grab at yours.

“Structure fire across town,” You tell him. “Told him that if he’s so inclined he can bring the truck over here and spray the party with the water,” Ivar laughed at that.

“Fuck, you clean up nice. And I love a woman in uniform,” He teases, smirking as you do too. It went silent for a second between you two, sticks of chemicals on your lips as his eyes did not miss the way your dress hugged at your body, how your stilettos were secured around your ankles. He couldn’t pull his mind back quickly enough before he was imagining them over his shoulders, your lips that curled around the filter and how they might look around his cock. How you were the first person who gave him complete reign over the ink he was going to forever mark your body with.

“Let’s just say I’d rather slice my own tongue off and choke on it than admit to that, actually wearing something other than the blues, and enjoying it,” You groan as the man next to you laughs, a sick snicker coming from his lips and you find yourself smiling too. “But you don’t clean up half bad yourself, Ivar,” You tease back as your eyes catch sight of the roll of his sleeves, how he maneuvers the buttons and pulls the white fabric back to show the first indications of sleeved out arms.

“Where do you want to go?” Ivar asks, taking the cigarette from his mouth to stub.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t think I fucking stuttered,” He started in challenge. “You said you didn’t want to be here, so where would you like to go?” He asks a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips as he cocks his head to the side awaiting your answer.

“Alright, Ragnarsson, you’re fucking on,” You laugh back, crushing your own stick with the spike of your heel as you follow him.

*

Hvitserk was a man who took most things with a grain of salt, others came with a few shots of whiskey. He had seen the darker side of humanity, and you were right there with him when he did. Your interest in becoming certified for emergency medicine had followed you since your high school graduation, and you were right on the top of the sign up sheet when class enrolled. And you stayed on top when your graduated. Company firings and how it lead to short staffing, moving of some onto better things lead to an opening you leapt on and found yourself paired with a paramedic with blonde hair and a smile that could cause most of the human population to smile back. It did not take long for a friendship to strike up, even outside of the station and the blazing sirens. His humor, his companionship kept you sane, kept the darkness of the horrid calls at bay, you two grew close, quickly.

Even if company policy allowed the romantic attachments between co-workers, you still couldn’t find yourself catching some sort of feeling to Hvitserk. He was a friend, your best, and it was left at that. You trusted him with your life, you’d gladly lay on the stretcher and head into the emergency room as long as he was the paramedic who was treating you.

Sigurd came next in the line of his brothers, an obsession with music, and nothing but the best that world could offer. He had an artistic hand, Hvitserk drove you towards his place of employment for permanent artwork to your liking and that was how you met Ivar. He watched you tip toe through his portfolio, but if Sigurd had talent, then Ivar was a God. You had never seen such movement on skin where he would trace his ink. You didn’t want to pull a design off of the internet and ask Ivar to put in on you, it seemed almost rude, instead you told him where you wanted it, and told him to go crazy. He looked at you in such a way, thinking you were joking. Perhaps too un-educated in the world of tattoos, but you held your ground and he was proud of such a feat.

Work was all too consuming, trying to leave space for time other than the blood pressure cuffs and patient history. You’d spend time out on town with Hvitserk, his brothers soon in tow, a party of their own that they could become. You were shocked Hvitserk hadn’t caught on, that none of them had, how long you had been spreading your legs for Ivar in secret. Petty bantering between the two of you, the others making bets to see whom would kill whom first, but that chatter went towards the foreplay that would follow you two into the bedroom. The most shock you came to realize was how Ivar was always there in the morning—it took a lot of you to convince him to leave, but he always mumbled something about five more minutes just for holding you.

Perhaps it was how your days were spent doused in testosterone, one of the three women of the entire station, entire company, leaving you to be able to handle yourself around men with egos far bigger than the dicks they would carry. That was how you were so seamlessly integrated into the Ragnarsson brother’s, struck up like the sister they never got. That was how Ivar found himself thinking about you far more than a friend with or without benefits would, how tightly you snug around his cock, how you look and sounded when you came for him, how you had pulled more from him than any other woman he had slept with. How you made him feel appreciated and not like a man who needed to navigate himself with his dick to get what women he wanted. How you didn’t toss him to the side after the first fuck. You drove him crazy and he didn’t have the words to admit to it.

“If I hear a grumble from you one more time Ivar, I am going to kick you out of the shop,” Sigurd spoke from his spot at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine of industry products as Ivar hissed a curse at him in reply. “What the fuck is you problem?”

“Y/N,” Ivar answered all too quickly.

“What? She hurt your ego too bad last time we were out? Didn’t stroke it enough to your liking?” Sigurd teased.

“No,” Ivar said. “She didn’t stroke me enough to my liking,” But Ivar said the words far too quickly before he could catch them.

“Are you fucking her?” Sigurd said, sitting up in his chair. “You two are fucking?” He laughed.

“Shut up,” Ivar grumbled, a toss of his pencil flying to grace the space Sigurd was at.

“She cut your dick off? That the issue?” He teased. “Hvitserk’s going to go ape-shit, dude,”

“That’s why we’re not telling him yet, right Sigurd?” Ivar said “Right, Sigurd?” He repeated with an extended finger at his brother.

“How long have you two been fucking��I need to know that, for science, and because I am still in shock. How did you—her? She’s too good for you Ivar, you have to be careful there,”

“Two years,” Ivar remarked and Sigurd nearly fell out of his chair.

“Fuck! You ask her out yet?”

“We’re not talking about this—or telling anyone else, right?” Ivar said again.

“Yes, sir,” Sigurd nodded, a fake salute from his hand as his mind was still scrambled.

“Don’t call me sir,” Ivar snapped.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

You’d never forget the call that came through dispatch a month after you and Ivar had started to screw around more often than fuck buddies would. The address sounded familiar, but Hvitserk was the one who made the connection it was the shop. Ink Drinker was a parlor bathed in black; walls and dark floors that made the rooms look like they never ended. The art displayed belonged to that of Ivar, of Sigurd, of the few others who came and went for their tattoo work. The owner had wooden sculptures of his own to line the spaces, but you had only ever seen the man through his social media.

You feared suddenly something happening to Ivar, or Sigurd, readying yourself for the sight that may hold them there, but it wasn’t them. A patron had passed out to the sight of the needles, sending Ivar to sour his entire mood at the weakness for something he found so simple. His flash of anger changed suddenly when you and his brother showed up, jumping from the rig in full expectance to see either sibling in a bloody mess after fighting to their death.

“I called and specifically asked for Hvitserk Ragnarsson and his partner,” Sigurd teased as the teenager came too, apologizing and still paying Ivar for the appointment he was too scared to cancel.

“I was hoping it would be a trauma call, you finally snapping and kicking Ivar’s ass,” You answered back, smirking at Ivar as he rolled his eyes in distaste. Ivar’s eyes climbed your whole body as you worked, the uniform marking your hierarchy and importance as you took the patient to the hospital. His text message not ten minutes later almost made you head back just to smack him.

“You’re keeping the uniform on next time we fuck.”

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[discocactusblogs]

Annabel Lee- Tim Drake x Reader

{Disclaimer: For anyone wondering, the poem I used is Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe, (site used for reference). I do NOT own the poem nor do I claim to. I am merely using it for entertainment purposes.}

{Author’s Note: My brain was fried from school today and I’m still not done but I decided to take a break to write this request from almost a month ago.  I wrote this for @cjtherandomchild & @trytokillmeorsomething123 Hope you guys enjoy!}

“How long has it been since you slept?” I ask, watching the dark-haired boy stumble into my room and plop down on my bed.

“Three weeks.” He sighed into his hands.

“Three weeks?! My dude, you’re going to kill yourself like this! Here, just lay down.” I motion for him to rest his head on the pillow on my lap.

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” He argued, rubbing his face. “I just need coffee.”

“Timothy, lay down." I sigh, setting my book aside on my nightstand.

“Why? I can sleep at home.” He looked at me with tired eyes. 

The poor boy had dark bags under his eyes and just overall looked sickly and sad.

“Tim, we’ve been dating for how long? I know you, and you need to sleep before you pass out in class like last time.” I remind him, earning a groan from him in exhaustion.

“On one condition.” He replied as he laid his head in my lap.

“And that is?” I raise an eyebrow at him in suspicion.

“Read to me. I like it when you get caught up in the story.” He looked up at me with a playful smirk tugging on his lips.

“But I’m reading dark poetry.” I chuckle nervously.

“I don’t care. Just read.” He finally yawned, resting his eyes for a few moments. “Please?” He whined.

“Fine, you win. But, you better sleep!”

“I will!” He smiled in satisfaction.

I grabbed my book and opened it to where I left off.

(1)“I was a child and she was a child,  In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love—  I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. ” I read, looking down to check if he was asleep.

 “Keep going. It reminds me of you.” He mumbled sleepily.

 I smiled softly and continued reading. After a short while, I gazed upon his peaceful, sleeping face.

  (1)“The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.” I continued, running my fingers through his hair as I read the following verse by memory, yawning sleepily as I too, was growing sleepy.

  (1)“But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;” I finished and set the book aside. Softly stroking Tim’s hair and listening to the sound of his soft snores, I drifted off into a late-night slumber.

~~~

1. Link to full poem, Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe

Masterlist

[anwynb2003]

Um... I think I made a BatFam AU while half-asleep...

Ok so, I wake up, and it seems last night I wrote out a messy explanation of a story that I just might have to write now... but I've read literally one Batman comic (Death in the Family), and all my knowledge comes from either YouTube, Wikis, and stories on AO3...

Hyperfixation is fun, isn't it?

Anyway, here's a copy-paste of what I wrote in my half-asleep state at around 2:00 last night (note, the doc itself is simply titled "C'mon. You Know."):

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tireeeeed let’s do this

Okay so

AU: No superheroes. Bruce Wayne is just a rich dude who starts taking in orphans because reasons.

First up was Dick Grayson, who he adopted when he was 9.

7 years later, he added 13-year-old Jason Todd.

3 years later, 12-year-old Tim Drake.

2 years later, 14-year-old Cassie Cain.

And finally, 2 years after that, he learned of and gained custody of his only biological son: 10-year-old Damian Wayne.

Only a year after Damian joined the family though, Brucie boy died, presumably in a “tragic accident”, but it’s quickly revealed that someone’s altered his will, leaving his kids with none of the family’s fortune; not even their home.

Dick, who’d moved out a few years ago, now has custody of his 3 youngest siblings, and only a small, 2-bedroom house in Blüdhaven to care for them in.

Jason, who for a variety of reasons had run away at 15, and had stayed away for the most part, reluctantly agrees to move in Full House style to help Dick, while all the siblings work with their ex-butler/grandfather figure Alfred, and family-friends Jim and Babs Gordon to figure out the mystery of their father’s death and will.

Tensions run high, Dick’s having a breakdown, Jay’s struggling to Dad (verb), Tim’s gay and spiralling, Cass struggles with speech, and Dami’s emotionally stunted. Yay!

So we got:

Dick, 24-year-old officer of the BPD. Adopted at 9 years old after losing his parents in a circus act gone wrong, Dick stayed with Bruce until he was 18, when after a heated argument he left for college. He made up with his father over the next couple years and stayed in contact, often visiting him and his siblings.

Jason, 21-year-old, works part-time at a gym in Crime Alley, Gotham City. Adopted when he was 13, after several years of living on the streets after his step-mother’s death by overdose and his father’s “peace out” moment. Discovered the identity of his birth-mother, ran away to go find her because teen angst and increasing fights with Bruce, then she was found dead a week later (her ex was charged and found guilty) and while Jay couldn’t be found, much of the blood at the crime scene was his. Then, randomly, he contacted his family again 4 years later, at 19. Didn’t move back in, and things were quite tense between him and Bruce, but still hung out with his siblings outside the home (though he was angry at Tim at first, for being adopted less than a year after his “death” and "replacing" him).

Tim, 17-year-old honours student. Adopted when he was 12, but actually started hanging around the house a little before that, as Dick was tutoring him after school. This helped both Dick, and Bruce to discover how neglectful and emotionally abusive his parents were, and Bruce literally had to sue for custody for this kid. He won.

Cassie, another 17-year-old. Adopted at 14, she’d been on the streets much like Jason had, but of her own volition… to a point. She was scarred after seeing her father do… something, when she was only 8 years old (she’s repressed so hard that even she doesn’t remember exactly what), and so ran away. This thing traumatized her so much that she lost her ability to speak for years, and has only just started learning to talk again. Instead, she usually uses ASL.

And Damian, an 11-year-old ball of politeness, good manners, and pure, unadulterated rage. He was born nine-months after his mother date-raped his father, and was raised in quite an… odd way, by said mother and her father. Long and short of it: crime family, but not a close one. He rarely if ever actually saw his mother, and when he did she wasn’t overly affectionate. He spent most of his early days being groomed to be his grandfather’s heir, only for their entire organization to be captured by police when he was 10. It was now when the emotionally stunted, spoiled brat was put into his father’s custody.

Main issues:

-Dickie boy stressed ooooooouut, gotta be a breadwinner and keep his siblings together and safe

-Jaybird technically never made up with Bruce; they’d actually made plans to get together and talk things out, but then, y’know, death

-Timmy, poor thing, is balancing school, work at Wayne Enterprises, and investigating the case of his father’s death, and has seemingly forgotten what sleep is. Adding on the fact that Bruce being dead means his (granted, chosen) role as heir to the company seems much more real (even despite the fake will, he's confident he'll figure it out and find the real one), he’s not doing all that great

-Cassie, sweetheart, has been emotionally traumatized for years, and now just has more trauma to add to that with Bruce being dead. She’s getting better, but struggling

-Dami, baby bird, is filled with more rage than usual, and is endlessly worried about all the animals in his “zoo”; Alfred remains at the manor (though he has not met his new employer), for the sole purpose of making sure they stay fed, watered, bathed, and more or less cared for.

So, to sum up, Dick’s working to support them and trying his best, Jay’s Dad-ing while Dick’s at work since his hours are more flexible, Tim hasn’t slept in years, Cass needs therapy and hugs, and Damian has a growing army of stuffed animals to fill the gaping hole in his life where his zoo used to be (since he could only bring Titus and Alfred the Cat with him to Bludhaven).

Will they be able to figure out who had their father killed and get their family legacy back?

Hell if I know, I haven’t written it yet. Probably. Get off my back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, long story short, I seem to have issues, but this is happening now apparently.

Not right now though, Ima go play Minecraft.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Reviews By Nesha || The Purge Franchise

Welcome, Welcome, Welcome to my experience with my Purge marathon this month, for October purposes. We could glide by the first one, since there is literally one Black woman in it and she’s there for like, a few minutes, or whatever. BUT. Since there were prominent Black female characters elsewhere in the franchise, I decided to just put all of my thoughts into one long post. (Only covered the movies 1-3, because that’s all I watched)

This essentially started whenever I saw this post that asked for POC thoughts on the representation in The Purge. I was already considering reviewing it, but that pretty much was like my little push. Then, I was in the comments or whatever, and just don’t think that I had the time at the moment to really state my thoughts in a comments section, particularly while I was only two movies in. Basically, long story short, if there is ever a story about POC, especially in stories where injustice is a major plot point - if there are characters of color, there need to be writers of color. If there are characters of color and no writers of color... Just know that them white people fucked it up. Sometimes it’s okay, because sometimes, they got a friend of color or something and have watched a few documentaries. Lol. Idk if this man who wrote this franchise know any Black people outside of work. 🤷🏾‍♀️

And the usual disclaimer, since we back OUTSIDE! You say you outside but you ain’t that outside. I’m outside of my fandoms in this department, and these things tend to bring the fandoms to me because I stepped foot in their things. Disclaimer for somebody who stumbled across this post because of the fandom tags - I am an independent partaker of this content, not “part of the fandom,” and my audience in particular is NOT for everybody. SO: If you may have been criticized in the past for casual racism, tone deafness to Black women’s concerns or accused of misogynoir or antiblackness, leave now. If you don’t like cussing, AAVE, general ratchetness and mean lesbian energy, you too might wanna go. A bitch can be eloquent, but I type like I talk, at times, so it is what it is and I don’t curate for kids, dudes, or nonblacks. That’s just what that is.

The Purge

I initially watched this movie whenever it first was out (more like whenever it was out of the theaters, so not at the very beginning of it’s existence, but pretty dang close). I watched it at my older sister’s house. I wasn’t interested in it. Whenever I heard the premise, I thought it sounded pretty dope, but then I saw Ethan Hawke, and so I was willing to pass. One thing I’ma do is pass on an Ethan Hawke movie without a second thought. So. I didn’t plan on watching it, but my sister put it on at her home one night and that’s her TV, so I wound up seeing the thing.

Wasn’t impressed with the movie, overall. It came out at a time where I was very invested and involved in Black activism and the movie read like someone who had read a few white liberal articles on politics and then made a lil’ movie about the horrors. It felt extremely tone deaf in some areas, and like the point it was trying to make was not being properly communicated. 

BUT THEN, I noted that many of the white people I knew personally felt very into it and I decided, “Oh, okay. It was meant for them. It was to communicate things that we already know to these people who have often always been able to live without having to know or think about these things. I’m including this interaction with someone in the fandom, on the post linked above, to clarify:

So. To me, this family read as conservative. They could be moderates. I definitely could see it. They put their flowers out to show that they support the purge, but then whenever it comes down to it, they don’t actually have it in them to support it in full. But. I feel like there are so many conservatives like this as well. 

I’m from Texas. Southeast Texas, to be exact. Right by the Gulf of Mexico, right by Louisiana. I have hella conservatives surrounding me who were “nice” people. They love their families, however that looked, and didn’t actually go out to klan rallies or anything, but they support law enforcement and make excuses for these “great institutions” in our nation, and in Texas. Now... They wouldn’t be likely to actually shoot me down dead without a second thought like the police would, but they would support the police force, despite them doing such things. This is how the main family reads, to me. 

The writer though? Felt like someone on the other side. The ones who will gladly raise awareness to help the less fortunate, but if they had to do even a step more than that, they would not have the energy. The story read like a person - who puts BLM in their profile, but doesn’t really even know any Black people, much less help them - telling a story about how maybe, under the right (or very wrong) circumstances, their white counterparts could see the light about humanity. 

I was glad to see that brotha survive, but beyond that, this was not a movie for me or mine. It isn’t a movie that outside of this marathon I will watch again either. Now, the second one, to me, was more empathetic.  It was like if the writer heard feedback and decided to clarify and expound on what message the story was giving, and opened up a doorway to a broader audience.

The Purge: Anarchy

We followed characters around who knew what was up and were just trying to do their best. Instead of following people who were part of the problem like we did in the first movie, we followed people who were more likely to be affected by those in power who were the problem. They even went so far as to cast leads who are biracial Black women as part of the ensemble that we take this journey with. 

Yes, like the first one, they’re still shown as targets of the problem, but they also are shown as survivors too, and while there is still an undertone of white saviorism, as there also was in the first movie, it isn’t a cut and dry white savior story. It is a group of people who need help through an impossible life in an unfair world, and how each of them does their best, not only to live, but to look out for their loved ones, and eventually each other. It is really the type of story that I would have wanted from a world like this, and I would have wanted evidence that there were people who could somehow make the best of it all. 

Nobody don’t do that like Black people. One of our main identifiers is how we make lemonade out of lemons, so there was good visuals in who they selected to follow through this story and I thought the end was BEAUTIFUL. To see the brotha done not only survived last time, but he done started working to give power to the powerless? Loved that for him. Loved that Our Good Sis nem made sure to have the man’s back who had theirs in the beginning. It was a well told story for such a horrifying state of things.

The Purge: Election Year

I don’t know what happened here...

This movie was not good. At the end of the day, I think that they needed Black people, preferably ones who know about community work, politics, and such to assist them in trying to write these characters.

They gave you more POC in this story... They gave you more access to the ones standing up to the corrupt power system. But, then they sort of sullied it with this idea that to rise up is to be as bad as those who LITERALLY use their power to eradicate you and have the means and malice to do it. 

White liberal knucka strikes again with a heavy hand in false equivalencies of an organization that had to be created in order to help and protect the most vulnerable people in these disgusting times with actual white supremacists. The white supremacists were a seen, real, force trying to eliminate the one person who wanted to make changes, from a place of power.

Enter the White Savior Trope that they were flirting with last movie, and amplify that bitch. This movie was so damn annoying with the thought of this white woman being the only hope that the people had, when the brotha had been tearing through the Purge purists’ shit for years. (He finally got him a name this movie too). But, my point is. There is no better way for you to get me to roll my eyes and smack my teeth than to try to paint some white as the only hope, and in THIS particular story, it’s especially heinous, because there was already some hope in the niggas evening the field a little bit by exterminating some of the high profile people and hitting their fancy events.

What this movie did was that, and even worse, they shoved down my THROAT that these negros with guns were just as bad, and somebody in there had the audacity to have the main negro say at one point, “Now, I love Black people, but I’m not letting you shoot these good white folks. These our white folks” while those people were in the process of trying to thwart an operation that could eliminate one of the worst of the purge pushers who had ALREADY tried to kill them PERSONALLY! WHY??? WHO BUT SOME HONKEY OR SOME COON WOULD WRITE THAT AND BE SERIOUS??????????? 

HUGE. STEP. DOWN. From the trust that they built with me as a Black viewer in the previous movie. I thought perhaps that there might be another increase in awareness and quality, like there was between the first and second movies. There was not. Not for my Black ass. I didn’t even watch it in one sitting, and was ready to end my trek through the franchise. I was that irritated by the complete and utter audacity, in a universe like this, in a situation like this for THAT. What SHOULD have happened, if it wasn’t some white nonsense, was everybody shoulda told that white lady what the brotha was tryna tell her and get the white people to sit down and shut up and get out the way, because come 7:00, THEY were gonna fucking be safe again! EVEN IF this white bitch is the only fucking hope in this universe, what she was gon’ do? Wave a wand and make it so? 

These people were supposed to just wait for you to have the right pieces in order to possibly help them, when they KNOW FOR SURE, one of they problems can end, right now today, by blowing this dude brains out? GOOFY. This is goofy. This was the height of too white for me to personally enjoy. Especially because people who tend to say shit like, “Then, you’re no better than them” usually haven’t gone through nothing. This hoe went through the purge. Shit killed her whole family. She was almost assassinated TONIGHT, multiple times, and the minute. THE VERY MINUTE she realized that these people who HELPED HER were going after her opponent, her main focus was how SHE couldn’t win like that. BITCH, THIS IS THESE PEOPLE’S LIVES. FUCK YOUR WIN.

AND, WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS LADY IN CHARGE??? They already have an entire operation that they had to do with not one spec of help from the great white hope, and they have been doing there best and helping people. They have been about it, while she has spoken about it. And then suddenly, folk all gather to crowd and protect her and why is everybody in this movie priority to protect her? This is not my ministry. Hated it, for all of that. Some other POC might have liked it, oh no baby, not my Black ass. I was cussing all they asses out through them shenanigans. Fuckin’ up the church’s money.

“This is no longer an assassination. It’s a rescue mission.” IT COULD BE BOTH! UGH. HATE THIS GODDAMN BULLSHIT. “We can’t be like them.” YOUR LIFE LITERALLY IS NOT GOING TO BE SHIT TOMORROW, LADY, FUCK YOU! And she’s like... getting in his way as they’re tryna move out, talking through him through the door when he has this decision to make. Quite frankly, I think she’s a piece of shit specifically for getting in the way of this group killing that man. She’s just the “lesser of two evils,” who STILL does not have these people’s best interests at heart, and it is not clear if the writer knew this or actually believed in her policies. Judging from the way this story has always read as white liberal bullshit, I think it’s a writer issue, and not that her character is this way on purpose.

AND THEY KILL MY NIGGA! They gave us the optics of the main Black character getting gunned down by Nazis. And the one white hero whose entire mission this movie is to save the white woman is the one we get to see defeat the main Nazi. Who, as I said, had just killed the longest running Black character in the franchise, who only even got a name THIS movie, even though it’s his third appearance in the franchise. The other main negro jump in front of the white woman to give us the Sacrificial Negro Trope that I had a sneaky suspicion would occur in this movie. I just didn’t know which one they was gon’ do it too. But I knew. I felt it in my spirit that this was the type of writer who would employ that representation. Girl, fuck this movie. No lol. 

The first hour and a quarter are tolerable, then it just shits itself. I actually went to try to see if there was some shuckin’ & jivin’ ass nigga behind the scenes that for whatever made them think this was okay, but nope - white people were responsible, and it SHOWS. Powered through the last half hour on principle. Don’t know if I wanna continue. There are so many horrific things that I can watch that I will probably love out there.

Not only was this the worst movie in the franchise, but this is one of the worst movies that I have seen recently. I’d advise the Black people with interests similar to mine not to waste your time. I would punch this man in his face for writing this movie, if I could. Whew. Well, niggas and friends... idk if Auntie Nesha will be finishing this franchise, but even if I do, at MOST, I’d do a “Nesha Watches” and liveblog it. This shit got my equilibrium fucked up. 

[thetypedwriter]

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review by MsKingBean89

So. 

This is a first. 

If you’ve been following this blog for some time, then you know I generally read young adult books and write far too lengthy reviews on them with the occasional outlier of adult fiction, mystery, sci-fi, etc. 

At any given time, I usually have both a physical book that I’ve bought from somewhere that I’m working on (right now it’s Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley) as well as a fanfiction that I reserve until before I go to bed (my treat for a day well lived). 

Fanfiction is something that I’ve mentioned copious amounts of times on this blog in varying degrees, but this is the first time I’ll be writing an actual review for one of them on this platform. 

The reason for this is myriad. 

One, this fanfiction called All the Young Dudes is a far-cry from your normal standardized fanfiction of 5-50,000 words-something I can easily consume in a few minutes to a few hours. 

Nope, this behemoth ends on a staggering 526,969 words and 188 chapters, not including bonus chapters and extra in-universe canonical content the author has also written and published. Roughly speaking, if this was actually published onto paper it would be well over 2,000 pages. 

2,000 pages. 

Yeah. And I enjoyed every single moment of it. 

Two, while I read a lot of fanfiction I generally don’t put any of it on this blog because while I’ve dedicated it to published novels, I also usually have very simple feelings about fanfiction. My thoughts run the gambit of: It was good, it was fluffy, it was a train-wreck, so on and so forth. 

Normally my reviews are so long and wordy because I have too many thoughts about the published books that I read and I need an outlet to let them loose. 

Whether because of its longevity or because of its content, All the Young Dudes is a story I find myself having a profusion of thoughts for. Hence, the birth of this review. 

If fanfiction isn’t your thing, feel free to skip this particular review of mine (although fanfiction is a gift to this world and you should really rethink your stance on it if you don’t like it, just saying). 

Third, All the Young Dudes is well written and rivals any actual published content. 

Fourth, because of how extensive this fanfiction is, it took me over a month to read it-time I generally would have been reading something else. Instead of leaving you all hanging for a few more weeks until I finish Firekeeper's Daughter (don’t hold your breath-the book is sort of a slog for me personally right now), I decided to just take the jump and write my first-ever typedwriter review for a fanfiction. 

Fanfiction has been a part of my life for the better part of almost two decades now. It was truly something I found by accident and in retrospect, it’s insane to me that it’s still something that brings me continuous joy and happiness. 

I discovered fanfiction when I was 11-years-old and deeply obsessed with the Harry Potter fandom. 

Now, as an overall disclaimer I completely disagree with J.K. Rowling’s stances of gender and biology and differ wholeheartedly with her views of trans and non-binary individuals. With that said, I still love Harry Potter as a story and while I no longer buy anything that profits J.K. Rowling directly, I still love the fandom and the people in it, including fanworks like All the Young Dudes. 

When I was 11, the seventh Harry Potter book had yet to come out and like many other people in this time period of agony while waiting for 2007 to roll around so that I could find out what happened, I discovered fanfiction as a way to fill in that ache I was so keenly feeling. 

I found myself suddenly immersed in this world of online fiction-both good and bad-but completely entrancing all the same. 

I never left. 

That is to say, I did eventually move onto other fandoms with their own fanfiction cultures, but Harry Potter was still my first in terms of fanfiction and introducing me to the concept as a whole. 

Specifically and maybe oddly, I never found myself curious for actual fanfiction about Harry or Hermione or Ron. In my mind, I already knew what had happened to them and reading about them in fanfiction was redundant. 

In addition, the first fanfiction I just happened to come across was a Lily/James marauder era fanfiction on mugglenet.com

This idea immediately intrigued me as fans as a whole knew next to nothing about the infamous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and while I knew everything I needed to about Harry Potter it was intoxicating to think that I could learn about a time before the series had existed and about characters who were important, but off screen. 

I was hooked and devoured as much as I could for most of middle school about the marauders and Lily and James’ romance in particular (I even wrote and published some of my own that will go unmentioned as they are truly really terrible). 

That being said, I haven’t read a Harry Potter fanfiction in years. I grew up and out of the fandom eventually thanks to Twilight and from there I’ve bounced from fandom to fandom as I’ve aged and consumed different things and fallen in love with different characters and different worlds. 

That isn’t to say I’ve forgotten though. 

I still remember my favorite marauder stories, my favorite Sirius Black/OFC (original female character), and my favorite baby Harry drabbles. They made such a huge impression on me and even though it’s been sixteen years, I still recall those stories with fond nostalgia and jubilation. 

Which is why it’s almost ironic that I would return to this particular time period of the marauders with All the Young Dudes. 

In a fashion that’s almost scarily full circle, I happened to be on Youtube one day and saw a recommendation video about this girl reviewing a fanfiction called All the Young Dudes. Now, youtube book reviews aren’t uncommon, but a thirty minute video for a fanfiction? Not your typical sighting. 

So out of pure curiosity, I searched All the Young Dudes fanfiction on Google and low and behold the overwhelming and top results were all for a marauder-era fanfiction by MsKingBean89. Piqued, I clicked on the link in ao3 and thought why not? 

While I’ve mainly been reading in other fandoms recently (BTS, some anime and manga, All for the Game) I had been in a little bit of a slump for finding a really good, really alluring story for some time and really didn’t think I had anything to lose by reading All the Young Dudes, especially as the more research I did, the more I found how popular it was-a plethora of videos on youtube, tiktok compilations, and dozens of fanart posts. 

Plus, it had been so long since I had read anything from my progenitor fandom and the thought of going back was strangely comforting.

Hence the journey of reading All the Young Dudes began and oh what a journey it was. 

Now, that this review is already five pages in, I should probably tell you what on earth All the Young Dudes is actually about. 

The whole story is a marauder-era fanfiction told from Remus Lupin’s POV from the summer of 1971 when Remus is 11-years-old to the summer of 1995 when he is 35-five-years-old. It is an in-depth portrayal of Remus’ time at Hogwarts from year one to year seven and then going all the way up to the start of the second wizarding world, ending around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix begins. 

While already the scope makes this a massive undertaking, the author also includes all canonical content from the original series involving Remus, the Marauders, and the time period and incorporates it into her fanfiction-making it canon compliant from start to finish. 

While a very large portion of this story is not romantic, there is eventual WolfStar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) and if you have read the original Harry Potter series...well. You know things don't end up super dandy for these two characters in particular so you know how the story will end before it begins. 

This fanfiction left me speechless for so many reasons. 

The scope and length is frankly unbelievable. This fanfiction was published on March 2, 2017 and it was completed on November 12, 2018.

….how?

How did she manage that? I frankly have no idea, but I am in complete and utter awe at her ability to write content with such a magnitude and actually complete it. She gets an award just for that honestly. 

Not only that, but the fanfiction is actually superbly well-written. I won’t lie and say it’s the most poignant and beautiful piece of literature I’ve ever consumed, but it was consistent in its pacing, characterization, themes, motifs, and structure, which, for 2,000 pages, is an incredible achievement when you think about it. 

Speaking of characterization, everyone was So. Well. Done. 

Remus was such an interesting POV to read from and while he was compliant in every sense of the word-werewolf, prefect, bookish-MsKingBean89 added so much more to his character and fleshed him out so incredibly that it’s truly tragic that he’s not a real person. 

And to that extent, she does this with all of the characters. You see James’ optimism and leadership, Sirius’ arrogance and loyalty, Peter’s jealousy and chess skills. 

Every character was so well-rounded and real. She did an incredible job of taking the bits and pieces from the canon series and using that to build up her own flesh and blood people with motivations, likes, dislikes, dreams, and desires. 

That being said, she also had 2,000 pages to do it sooooooo it would be bad if the characters weren’t fleshed out by the end honestly. 

In addition, I really appreciated that she didn’t just focus on Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. Lily Evans played a critical role in Remus’ school life and after and so did the other Gryffindor girls like Marlene and Mary. 

Too often, the focus is on the boys and their close friendship and while that was a huge focus, we also get to see Remus develop friendships with the girls in his own right and other friends as well that were often OC’s of the author’s. 

Now. OC’s are generally something I dislike. I’m reading fanfiction to read about particular characters that I’ve sought after, not to read about some imaginary cast. However, just like any of the canon characters, all of the OC characters were well-developed and played crucial roles in Remus’ development-while either at Hogwarts or after-and I found myself not minding them in the least. In a few cases (Grant) I actually really loved them. 

The biggest draw for this fanfiction for me was Remus’ time at Hogwarts. It was so well-written and incredibly descriptive and I found myself thrust back into the world of magic so suddenly and seamlessly that it was like I never left. 

MsKingBean89 includes so many intricate details and builds up the world so beautifully that I’d recommend any Harry Potter fan to consume it, just to get some good Hogwarts material out of it. 

Another thing I greatly appreciate about this fanfiction was the slow burn. I’ve read slow burn before (All for the Game trilogy anybody?), but this truly took the cake. Sirius and Remus don��t properly get together until the end of year six going into year seven. That’s over 100 chapters in. 

100 chapters out of 188. 

Meaning that over half of this beast doesn’t have the main pairing even together. For some people, this could be a drawback. You might think to yourself: It takes how long for them to confess their feelings and stop being prats?

A very, very long time. 

However...it didn’t bug me. I like slow burn to begin with, but being along for the ride as Remus goes from being a child to an adolescent with unrequited feelings to being in a relationship with someone he loves is so rewarding and fulfilling that the 100 previous chapters are completely and utterly worth it. 

MsKingBean89 develops them so well and so carefully that the payoff is so sweet and satisfactory that it's enough to bring the tears right then and there. 

The last huge feat of this fanfiction for me was the author’s dedication to canon not just confined to Hogwarts and the Harry Potter books, but also to the time period. Either she lived through the 70’s and 80’s herself or she had done her due diligence when it comes to research because anything from London anti-gay laws to British slang was commonplace in her fic. 

I found it completely amazing how she was able to tie in real-time historical and cultural moments like famous singers and movies playing at the time alongside convoluted muggle politics warring with the wizarding ones. 

I was so blown away by the accuracy and genuine love behind this fic that it often brought me out of my own mind to simply ponder once again how much work this was and how well she was delivering it. 

Even unpleasant things, like homophobia and bigotry, are dealt with in a very carefully constructed way that is aligned with the time period in which the story takes place. 

Unfortunately, everything beautiful is not without flaws and All the Young Dudes is not the exception, although it’s flaws are nary compared to its achievements. 

The few complaints I have with this fic are honestly quite negligible. 

First, there are a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Very few, but I did notice some. 

Next, and again, this complaint is really just me whining, but...the end of the fic was really fucking sad. The end of this whole story took me so much time to complete simply because I didn’t want to read it. 

I know what happened during the first wizarding war and I also know what ended it (James and Lily Potter dying, Harry being shipped off to the Dursley’s, Sirius imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit, Peter presumed dead) and in one fell swoop Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved. 

After spending over 1,500 pages of Remus growing to love these people it is absolutely devastating and heart-breaking to see him lose it all. 

The last handful of chapters are just really, really sad and it makes me wonder why MsKingBean89 decided to write it in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why she didn't write about Remus’ time at Hogwarts and stop after graduation because we all know what happens after that and none of it is good. 

Looking back, I wish I could time travel and tell myself to stop at chapter 150. I truly didn’t need to read about the tragedies that happened after that and the hell that all of the characters go through. 

And while it does end on a….sort of kind of maybe positive (?) note with Sirius and Remus reuniting briefly once the events of Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban take place, it was really tainted and bittersweet for me knowing that in a year Sirius would die and Remus would marry his fucking cousin and have a child. 

Urgh. 

I just can’t. 

That being said, I understand it’s not the author’s fault and I’m not saying it is. She wrote a canon compliant fic to the end and it was my choice to continue reading. That being said, she said she ended it before the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Sirius and Remus are happy and back together and she didn’t want to write what was coming next if she continued. 

I truly, truly get that. 

But in the same vein, why even write the events of the first wizarding world to begin with then? I’m confused with that response as it doesn’t make much sense to me. I felt like ending it right then and there was not a happy ending. They’re together, yes, but at this point they are both shells of who they used to be. Both have severe trauma and PTSD and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with them being together just because they’ve put each other through so much. 

It’s just an interesting choice at the end of the day in terms of the author. 

Once again, however, I truly understand that she can do whatever she wants and that she doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially as she’s writing this for free and just because. So please keep in mind that although I’m complaining, I truly understand how fortunate we are to even have this fic in the first place. 

Okay. 

Secondly, my only other huge complaint is that MsKingBean89 made Remus gay. Not bi, not pan. Gay. 

You could argue that Remus just calls himself gay in the fanficiton as he didn’t know about other kinds of sexuality. You could argue that Remus’ sexuality changes and develops as he ages and experiences trials and tribulations. You could argue that it was a sign of times like so much else in this fic. 

I frankly just found it to be a frustrating choice as the fic is canon compliant and even though it ends before the events of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows we know that Remus eventually marries Tonks and has a baby son named Teddy Lupin. 

How does that make sense?

I tried very, very hard to come up with some sort of feasible explanation for how a gay man would have ended up with the love of his life’s female cousin and truly could not think of one that was not fucked up to some degree. 

Again. I know I’m being nit-picky, but it irked me that she made this choice regarding Remus’ sexuality and essentially ended her fic with Remus stuck in a corner regarding how the series actually ends. 

At the end of the day, all of the negatives are truly, truly not important. I’m just whinging to whine and to express my thoughts, but I do once again understand that MsKingBean89 isn’t profiting from this fic and that she can do what she wants as is her prerogative. 

I hope I was able to express that while I understand that, I can still be frustrated with some of the choices she made. 

To wrap this all up, All the Young Dudes is a masterpiece and is a must-read for anyone who loves Harry Potter, the Marauders, or Wolfstar. I was blown away by the sheer magnitude, the love and care she put into her craft, the slow and deliberate development of all the characters, the beautifully constructed love between Sirius and Remus, and the intricate world-both muggle and magic-that surrounded the story like a cocoon. 

I am so happy I found this fic and I truthfully am floundering at what to do with myself next. If you have any more current Marauder era fics that I’ve missed out in the past eleven years, please don’t hesitate to let me know. 

Recommendation: Go read All the Young Dudes. For weeks, you will cry, you will laugh, you will despair, and you will smile. This fanfiction will make you wish this was canon and in my mind, it now is. 

Score: 8/10

Links:

1. All the Young Dudes on ao3 

2. The Youtube Video about All the Young Dudes that made me aware of its existence 

[bisluthq]

hi nat! i know you don’t believe in kaylor anymore, but i wanted to send in my kaylor/joshlie theory, just as food for thought and fun speculation.

CW: ED

background:

back in 2017, i made a new friend. i quickly became kinda obsessed with her. i idolized how tall and skinny she was, her radiant sunshine-like presence, and the way she was so much cooler than me. something about her just drew me in like a magnet.

one day she told me that she was “bi-curious,” and i felt the unexplainable urge to tell her that i was queer too—so i did.

thus started our intense homoerotic friendship. we talked about everything, and she was rather touchy and flirty with me (we even hooked up a few times). but she was hung up on this dude who she’d been in a long-term off-and-on relationship with. looking back, i think she saw me as a willing participant in her experimentation phase—a source of casual fun while on a break from her ‘real’ relationship (plus, i came with the added bonus of helping her figure out her sexuality a bit).

meanwhile, i was serious about us because i was in love with her. as such, the relationship was obviously very unhealthy: neither of us had appropriate expectations of the other, and because of the imbalance in our level of commitment/love, she ended up inadvertently taking advantage of my friendship in ways that only increased my obsession with her. naturally, our friendship eventually imploded.

i think the kaylor story may look similar.

my theory on kaylor:

i think that kaylor had a very similar friendship as me and my friend. their connection obviously started out as pr, but they ended up getting along well and bonded. thus started their genuine friendship.

i think that their eating disorders were likely a strong source of bonding/connection for them, as this was the case for me and my friend as well. i wanted to emulate how skinny my friend was, just how i think taylor wanted to emulate how skinny karlie was. (remember the vogue best best friends video, in which taylor complemented karlie’s “shiny abs.”) this is obviously an unhealthy place to start a friendship: from day one, you are on uneven ground, where one person is essentially worshipping the other and seeing them as a god-like figure to emulate.

imagine that taylor in that sort of mindset with karlie. and on top of that, she’s attracted to karlie—obsessed with her skinny body, her sunshine-like personality, how sophisticated she is, how effortlessly successful she is, etc. she develops an infatuation with karlie. she wants to take karlie to big sur with her and play 1989 on the way, and she’s so obsessed with karlie that she wants to tell her the truth about the 1989 muse. (trust me, it’s feasible—i told my friend shit i’d never have even imagined confessing to another human, all because of how infatuated with her i was.) so taylor and karlie sit down, have an intensely emotional conversation about how taylor is bi, how the pressures of staying closeted gut her every day, how her relationship with the 1989 muse dianna was so full of strife due to closeting, etc. /// or maybe taylor feels that she must disclose her bisexuality to karlie before the big sur trip. she’s terrified that if she doesn’t tell karlie she’s bi, then karlie will somehow find out. and taylor’s afraid that then, karlie will be creeped out that a ~predatory lesbian~ invited her on a three-month sleepover, leading to the demise of their friendship. so taylor must avoid that outcome – so she must come out to karlie.

so, for either reason i described, taylor comes out to karlie. considering how scared taylor is to come out to karlie (since it might ruin their friendship, or karlie might maliciously out her to others now that she knows, etc.) and considering how generally poor taylor’s mental health was at the time, the coming out inevitably evolves into an intensely emotional conversation about taylor’s fears, insecurities, the pressures of being a closeted mega-celebrity, etc. perhaps karlie feels compelled to match the level of emotion and vulnerability, motivating her to tell taylor “i’m questioning if i might be a little bi too.” or perhaps taylor’s level of earnestness and rawness stirs up the illusion of intense emotions inside of karlie. so, karlie “comes out” to taylor – confessing that she’s questioning/bi-curious (for context, i think karlie is kinsey 1). /// (to show the validity of this possibility – this is how evangelical churches, such as the one shown in the 2006 documentary “jesus camp”, are able to convince children that they’re being overcome by the holy spirit, being prompted by god to break down in tears, etc. – psychologically speaking, when people are put into highly intense emotional situations, [such as taylor breaking down while coming out to karlie], their brains will feel inadvertent pressure to match the level of emotion. as such, their brains will either exacerbate existing relevant emotions, or create the illusion of relevant strong emotions. [this is probably especially true for karlie, since she is an empath and a people pleaser.]).

thus starts the “friends with occasional benefits” stage. karlie views the relationship as something casual, something that gal pals do sometimes, something fun to experiment with while she and josh are on a break, and maybe with the added bonus of helping her figure out if she’s actually a little bit queer.

but taylor falls hard. as i already said, i think taylor was infatuated with karlie’s personality, success, and skinniness. that’s why taylor is willing to engage in such an unhealthy and un-reciprocal relationship: she’s willing to tolerate josh’s presence, because her brain is so fixated on karlie that she’s willing to endure anything for her. taylor may even recognize that kaylor is doomed, but she’s so in love/obsessed that she can’t bring herself to care about anything other than the utter infatuation she feels in this present moment. (this was true of me and my friend – my friend would literally vent to me about her long-term on-again-off-again boyfriend, and i was willing to endure it because of how obsessed with her i was.) or maybe taylor’s somewhat in denial about josh. (this was also true of me and my friend – i had such a hard time conceptualizing that she had feelings for the man that my brain, to some extent, refused to fully grasp the reality of that.) or maybe taylor was even in denial about how intensely she loved karlie, convincing herself that she just really valued her platonic friendship (i also did this – it took me months to admit that i had a crush on my friend and admit that my level of obsession wasn’t normal gal pal behavior – even though i was already out to myself.) also keep in mind the eating disorder dynamic here – taylor looked to karlie as an idol regarding how to eat healthy, exercise, be skinny, and be successful. the mindset of people engaged in eating disorders tends to be obsessive and unhealthy to the extent of being willing to ignore reality / unknowingly refusing to accept reality, possibly including the reality of josh, if taylor feels like her skinniness is dependent on her connection with karlie.

so basically, karlie sees this as a gal pal fling, friends with the occasional casual benefit. taylor, conversely, is infatuated with karlie. one thing that really confirms this for me is kissgate. taylor was liking kaylor shipped tumblr posts shortly before kissgate – she obviously was feeling something for karlie that night. but karlie wasn’t committed to taylor to the same level – yes they (allegedly) made out, but karlie made out with josh immediately afterwards. /// to taylor, kaylor is a ship, an endgame. but to karlie, taylor is just a fun little pit stop, and she’s gonna go make out with her real boyfie immediately after.

eventually, the friendship inevitably implodes, leading to their breakup in 2016. some straw finally breaks the camel’s back on this relationship which was unhealthy and doomed from day 1.

now let’s look at lyrical evidence from repuation that supports my theory.

lyrical evidence from reputation:

ready for it

the bearding anthem. verses “he” are joe, as confirmed by the music video. chorus “you” is her fantasy idealized version of long-term kaylor.

there’s a reason that the “you” relationship (in the chorus) is happening IN HER DREAMS and not in real life – she pines for this committed and serious relationship with karlie, but that’s not reality.

but taylor has hope that it might happen – “i know i’m gonna be with you, so I TAKE MY TIME.” she imagines they’ll be friends-to-lovers, and she’s willing to wait as long as necessary for them to fully reach that lovers stage

this is a stretch, but “thief”/“robber” may refer to how she’s “stealing” karlie from josh lol. “touch me and you’ll never be alone” may also be a cheeky reference how taylor was like a temporary placeholder for josh – when karlie felt alone bc she and josh were on a break, taylor was like “touch me karlie, to keep you occupied while josh has left you alone. and oh yeah, if you end up in a relationship with me, then i promise that you’ll never be alone, bc i will commit to you, unlike that josh boy. i will be so much better than him, if you just let me.”

end game (but only the chorus/verse which taylor wrote)

“i WANNA be your endgame” – taylor is not in a committed relationship with karlie. as karlie sees it, they’re just fooling around. but taylor wants more than that: she wants to be karlie’s endgame.  

“you and me would be a big conversation” bc they’re gay. (sorry joseph matthew alwyn, this line is not about you)

“i don’t wanna touch you …… like the other girls do” may be a reference to how karlie is gal pals with plenty of her female friends (example – her platonic yet very affectionate relationship with toni garrn). but taylor wants more than that – she wants their touches to be romantic rather than just platonic/occasionally casually sexual.

“i don’t wanna hurt you” – taylor fears that she’s bad news for karlie (a sentiment repeated in the first line of delicate, the bridge of i did something bad, etc.). this may be internalized homophobia – the predatory lesbian falls in love with her pure/innocent straight best friend and then corrupts her with homosexuality.

“but i ain’t tryna play” – taylor wants this relationship to be more than just the occasional fun/playful/casual hook up. she wants to be karlie’s end game.

“i hit you like ‘bang’, we tried to forget it, but we just couldn’t” may refer to the first time they hooked up. it was unexpected, just happened so suddenly (“like ‘bang’”). and they were just going to put it past them – sometimes friends hook up, it’s whatever. but taylor can’t move on from it.

“your body is gold” – self-explanatory. karlie is the gold rush girl, after all.

“you’ve been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks” reminds me of how i used to try to communicate my seriousness/love to my friend, but she’d laugh it off and assume i was joking. conversely, perhaps the “trick” is that taylor is pretending that she’s not super invested in karlie—maybe karlie is catching on to the fact that taylor is infatuated with her in a ~gay way~. taylor denies it, but karlie calls her bluff on that statement.

“here’s the truth from my red lips” – but in the music video, her lips aren’t red when she says this line. this may allude to all of the lying involved in her relationship with karlie (such as lying about just how in love with karlie she really was). or taylor may have her lips a different color because the truth has changed from the time she wrote this song to the time she’s filming the video – when she wrote this song, it was true that she wanted to be karlie’s endgame. but by the time rep era is here and they’re filming this video, the kaylor friendship is over, and it is no longer true that taylor wants to be karlie’s endgame.

i did something bad

just like in “ready for it”, i think the verses primarily refer to bearding (or maybe calvin/kimye, idk), but the chorus is about karlie.

“they say did something bad / then why’s it feel so good” – it is bad that she slept with karlie despite the fact that karlie is in a complicated long term relationship with josh. but the sex felt good ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

“and i’d do it over and over and over again / IF I COULD” – this implies that taylor only did ~the bad thing~ a few times, and she was unable to do it more times, even though she wanted to. this lines up with my theory that she and karlie hooked up a few times (casually in karlie’s eyes), but taylor wanted it to be more than just a few times (she wanted to be karlie’s endgame). but they couldn’t get to that committed place of routinely having sex bc karlie was still low key hung up on josh.

this is a very unlikely reach but – “he says ‘don’t throw away a good thing’” – “he” might be josh speaking to karlie about their relationship.

in the bridge, taylor says that she is a witch being unjustly burned. the witch is burned because she is being accused of the sin of dark magic – this parallels josh accusing taylor of being a witch who committed the sin of sleeping with his girlfriend, or maybe even the sin of “corrupting” the pure straight girl karlie. furthermore, the bridge invokes religious imagery of purgatory. and tbh, religious imagery is almost always gay xoxo.

don’t blame me

“don’t blame me, love made me crazy” again implies that taylor has committed a sort of ~crime~, such as the ~crimes~ i just mentioned regarding the don’t blame me bridge.

“my drug is my baby” – the drug reference makes me think of dependency. the obsession and infatuation i experienced with my friend (and that i suspect taylor experienced with karlie) is sort of like a drug dependency – and just like a drug dependency, the need for each other is not reciprocal (the drug does not need you back).

“shaking, pacing, i just need you” implies that taylor does not have “you”, which is consistent with my theory that she wanted kaylor to be endgame whereas karlie was only willing to doing occasional gal pal hook ups.

“for you, i would cross the line” / “they say she’s gone too far this time” – sleeping with josh kushner’s ~innocent straight~ girlfriend certainly crosses a line, lol.

“i would waste my time” – as i mentioned in my ready for it analysis, taylor hopes that kaylor be friends-to-lovers. she’s willing to wait as long as necessary for them to fully reach that lovers stage, even though she recognizes that the relationship is doomed and thus a waste of time.

“my name is whatever you decide” – we don’t have to “girlfriends.” we can just be “friends with benefits” or “gal pals” or whatever name you decide, because i am so desperate to have you at all that i will accept you in any form.

“i’m insane, but i’m your baby” – acknowledging that this unhealthy relationship/infatuation she has with karlie is “insane”

“halo hiding my OBSESSION” – “obsession” (!!!!) (that’s what i’ve been saying kaylor was!!!). also, “halo” is a religious metaphor, and religious metaphors are always gay xoxo. and this is a reach, but as a victoria’s secret angel, karlie wears a halo.

“i once was poison ivy, but now i’m your daisy” – i’m sorry, but i’ll never get over the fact that karlie tagged the daisy as taylor, and then taylor drew a picture of a daisy in an identical position above the word “daisy” in the handwritten lyrics.

“for you, i would fall from grace / just to touch your face” – religious metaphors are gay xoxo!

delicate – unsure if this song is about karlie (i think it’s more likely about lily or even joe), but if it is about karlie, it does align well with my kaylor theory.

“this ain’t for the best” – doomed relationship due to josh, corruption of straight girl, karlie won’t commit, etc.

“we can’t make / any promises” – karlie can’t commit to taylor like taylor wants/needs

“is it cool that i said all that? is it chill that you’re in my head? cuz i know that it’s delicate” – is it cool that i have gay feelings for you, bestie, because i know we’re toeing a very delicate line between friends and lovers?

“third floor on the west side” – iirc, the master bedroom of karlie’s west side apartment was on the third floor

“do the girls back home touch you like i do?” – contrasting platonic girls’ touches to the type of touch taylor is giving her. (similar vibe to “i don’t wanna touch you …… like the other girls do” in end game)

“stay here, honey, I DON’T WANNA SHARE” – i don’t wanna share you with josh

“I PRETEND YOU’RE MINE ALL THE DAMN TIME” – implies that karlie is not hers all the time (because she’s josh’s)

“i like you …… i want you” – taylor is Yearning™ for a deeper/more serious relationship with karlie

look what you made me do

i don’t think this song has much substance, but it may draw on themes/emotions from the kaylor friendship break up.

“i don’t like your games” – i don’t like how you led me on, making me feel like we could be forever when, in reality, you were never going to commit to me because you loved josh

“don’t like your tilted stage” – this reminds me of the power imbalance i mentioned earlier: taylor was obsessed with karlie and idolized her. karlie did not reciprocate this dedication and infatuation. because taylor’s love for karlie is so much more intense than karlie’s love for her, the metaphorical scale is imbalanced, making it tilt.  

“the role you made me play, of the fool” – you made me out to be a fool, ready to confess my undying love even though you could never reciprocate. // furthermore, the “role” may refer to how they had to act like platonic girl squad besties as per their pr arrangement (reminds me of how karlie publicly said “taylor and i are still besties” after karlie’s name wasn’t on the junior jewels shirt in the lwymmd mv, how karlie promo-ed the “Me!” filter on Instagram, the song closure, etc.)

“your perfect crime” – the crime of sleeping with taylor despite being low key still with josh

“i got smarter” – i began to realize how unhealthy this warped and imbalanced friendship was

“you asked me for a place to sleep / locked me out and threw a feast” – this may refer to karlie had a ~designated bestie sleepover room~ in taylor’s house, and that enty blind about how karlie used taylor’s credit card and that caused a feud lol

i do not think that “so it goes” is about karlie – it’s too reciprocal. i don’t think gorgeous is about karlie specifically – maybe lily or just women in general. and i agree with andy’s theory that getaway car is more so an exercise in storytelling than a song that contains substantive clues about her relationships.

king of my heart

we have the photos showing that taylor wrote/recorded this after facetiming with karlie to watch the sunset together. taylor wrote this right after that romantic coded date, presumably during a high point of their friendship/relationship – as such, this song is more idealistic than most other kaylor songs. taylor is hopeful about the future of a committed endgame kaylor. (but, we’ll also see that taylor does still have some insecurities about kaylor.)

“now you try on calling me baby like trying on clothes” – karlie is just “trying on” calling her baby. karlie is new to this whole wlw thing, and she won’t be wearing these metaphorical clothes (a wlw relationship) for long – she’s just trying them on. furthermore, “trying on clothes” may reference how karlie is a model.

“salute to me, i’m your american queen” – i think i remember from my ttb days (derogatory) that there’s a video clip of karlie calling taylor “the perfect all-american girl” whilst doing a salute.

“you move to me like a motown beat” may reference the “motown beats” instagram post where kaylor are putting on lipstick together

the fact that taylor includes the line “all the boys and their expensive cars … never took me quite where you do” may be a sign of taylor’s insecurity. i think this may be a message to karlie – ‘yes, josh is a rich boy with expensive cars, but look, we are so much better than joshlie is.’ calling josh a mere “boy” is also a funny little insult – he’s not a man, he’s just some silly little boy who can’t satisfy you like i can.

“body and soul” – i think it might be significant that taylor specifies body AND soul. they’re already connected by the soul through their close friendship – but now they’re connecting sexually with their bodies as well. conversely, this could reference how they’ve already connected bodily through casual gal pal hook ups, but now taylor believes that they’re starting to connect on that romantic soul level as well.

“school girl crush” gives me such unreciprocated crush vibes. maybe taylor’s crush was unreciprocated for a while, but she has reason to believe that their relationship is growing into ~more than just friends~, as she’s desired

“drinking beer out of plastic cups” – knicks game

“say you fancy me, not fancy stuff” – “fancy” could just be straight-bait to make swiftwyn beards look more convincing, or it could be a re-dedication of the song to joe (just how the bridge of dress re-dedicated that song to joe). (for context, i believe in swiftwyn beards-to-lovers.) but what’s important here is that “fancying stuff” made me think of how, as a model, karlie is like madona’s Material Girl. rich boy josh with his fancy cars can give karlie more “stuff” to satisfy her inner material girl, but taylor wants to show karlie that she can give her deeper fulfillment than that.

“this is enough” – this might be taylor reassuring herself that their relationship, despite being in a weird ~gal pals who hook up occassionally~ is enough. even though they’re not ~girlfriends~, the relationship is enough, because taylor believes that they’re working their way towards that ~body and soul endgame wives~ type of relationship.

“all at once” may refer to a seemingly sudden shift in the nature of their relationship – one day, they’re (infuriatingly) just gal pals who hook up, but all of a sudden, taylor has reason to believe/hope that maybe they’re starting to be more than that, maybe inching their way towards endgame territory.

i do not think that dancing with our hands tied is necessarily about karlie. it seems too reciprocal to be just about her; it might be an amalgamation of many relationships and how she frequently fears being outed.

dress

“a golden tattoo” – drake’s party. also, karlie is gold rush girl

“all of this silence, pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you / all of this silence, pining and desperately waiting” – once again implies that taylor does not have karlie the way she wants her. there’s “pining” because she wants more than karlie can give. and taylor is “desperately waiting” in hopes that maybe one day karlie will reciprocate her love to the full extent that she desires

“i don’t want you like a best friend” – self-explanatory

“carve your name into my bedpost” – taylor is making a request – ‘please commit, please leave a sign that you are committed to me forever, please be my endgame.’ note the dichotomy between this plea for karlie to take the initiative to make the carving, versus the statement in the first verse of how karlie inadvertently left “an indentation in the shape of” her. the indentation was not an act of karlie’s chosen will – taylor just so happened to fall in love with her, and now she’s asking karlie to reciprocate by making that carving.

“inescapable, i’m not even gonna try” – taylor is resigned to the fact that she’s fallen for karlie, even though the relationship might be doomed (as the next line demonstrates)

“if I get burned, at least we were electrified” – taylor is acknowledging that this relationship is low key doomed, and if anyone is going to get hurt, it’ll be taylor. taylor will be the one getting “burned” by the intensity of her infatuation, whereas karlie won’t be burned because she never reciprocated that intense love. /// going back to my commentary on “carve your name into my bedpost” – note how taylor frequently references karlie “claiming” her (with “marks”, “indentations”, “carvings”, and now “burns”), whereas taylor never states that she’s claimed karlie in any way. i think this may reflect taylor’s recognition that she has fallen much harder for karlie than karlie has for her. karlie does not bear marks, indentations, carvings, or burns from their relationship, because she was never as committed as taylor was. but taylor bears all those things because it is she who fell so hard for karlie.  

“you kiss my face and we’re both drunk” reminds me of that trope where the gal pals only make out when they’re drunk because they’re convinced they’re actually straight. maybe karlie is one of those straight girls who only has so much capacity for wlw sex, meaning that it happens more often when she’s drunk than when sober.

i do not think that “this is why we can’t have nice things” is a direct karlie song. it may indirectly reference how karlie “broke” the “nice thing” that was their relationship by refusing to commit, but i don’t think that the song has anything substantive to show us about kaylor.

i’m not sure if i think “call it what you want” is a kaylor song. on some level, “fit like a daydream” does sound like eating disorder taylor idolizing karlie’s body, and it’s interesting to me how the subject of the song expresses virtually no devotion to taylor, whereas taylor spends the whole song telling the subject “call it what you want – call us girlfriends, gal pals, whatever you want as long as i can keep you.” this reminds me a bit of kaylor.

new year’s day

“don’t read the last page” because i know that this book has a sad ending. this relationship is doomed, and it’s going to end poorly. but let’s put that out of our minds – i’m to infatuated with you in this moment to think about how this will inevitably end.

“i stay when you’re lost and i’m scared and you’re turning away” – when karlie is “lost” (leaving taylor to go back to josh) or “turning away” from taylor to go back to josh, taylor stays. she’s scared that she’s going to lose karlie, but she’s still going to stay, because she’s willing to “waste her time” (don’t blame me) waiting for karlie to choose her.

“i stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes” – taylor is willing to stay through the mess of their imbalanced and un-reciprocal relationship even when that inevitably gets hard. their relationship is “wrong” because karlie is josh’s, and maybe kaylor was a mistake because of joshlie, but taylor doesn’t care – she loves karlie too much, so she’s going to stay and wait for karlie to choose her.

“i WANT your midnights” – implying that taylor does not currently have them, because karlie is not reciprocating the level of love taylor is giving and wants in return.

“hold on to the memories” implies that this relationship will be ending soon (because it is doomed), leaving karlie only memories to hold onto.

“i will hold onto you” – this goes back to the theme of taylor’s obsession. karlie is her drug – she’s addicted to her, and she will “waste her time” eternally waiting for karlie to choose her because she’s that obsessed with her.

“please don’t ever become a stranger” – why is taylor worrying about this? because the relationship is doomed, and becoming strangers feels like this horrible yet inevitable ending that will be a part of “the last page”

thanks for reading, and sorry about any typos!

⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️

SUBMISSION

I found this as part of my Insta ask era but let’s look over this for thoughts. Haven’t read it yet but I know anon was stressed it got lost (it did because y’all talk too much but also don’t stop I love it).

[nakedmossy]

Depth Over Distance - Part One [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

The sky was grey and the air was wet - it had been raining for 4 days straight. You sat in your car with the heat cranked, your window down slightly so that the humidity didn’t fog up your mirrors. Living on the Alaskan coast was beautiful most of the time but horrible some of the time, especially when you had to waste gas just keeping warm and dry at 6pm in the beginning of ‘Summer’. 

You had never lived anywhere else aside from the summer you spent in Vancouver with your cousin when you were 19. Now, at 23, you were working full time at the local bookshop that was an 8 minute drive from your house in the winter and a 20 minute walk/skate in the summer. Your car was parked street side, waiting for your friend Lizzy to finish her shift at the cafe. The smell of the rain and the Ben Howard song on the radio made you nostalgic about the times you and your friends from high school had spent hours skating down these streets, beers in your backpacks, no helmets, dirty shoes and clothes, no pressure, no responsibilities, no cell service...no worries. 

Since graduation a lot of your friends had moved out of town, either to Anchorage or down to Washington, or further south. Your best friend Lizzy had stayed close to home, helping run her families business and working part time at the cafe. You had stayed local too...your dad owned a fishing guide business and your mom was an admin assistant for the MD in town, but neither made enough to cover all the medical bills you had racked up over the last few years. You figured once the debt was paid off you might leave...but you had no idea where you would go. 

You missed all of your friends, but you missed the boys the most, aside from Lizzy you didn't have a lot of female friends, and your boys had been like brothers to you. You spoke to most of them every few weeks on FaceTime, except Rudy. He had gone to LA for awhile and had kept in touch loosely, but after the first few months he started to drift. 

You felt the loss the hardest for Rudy. He had been your closest friend the longest, you had spent nearly every day of every summer together since you were 9, and every school year you worked the same part time job at the seafood restaurant on the water. Now, the last you heard, he was coming back for the summer to ‘reconnect’. You had low expectations and tried not to let yourself get excited, but truthfully, you wanted him to spend some time at home and be around his own kind again - he had always been a homebody and you were worried that being gone for 4 years would go to his head or change him.

Lizzy tapped on the glass, causing you to blink out of your reverie and smile at her. You rolled the window down and let her reach in and open the door from the inside (the handle had been broken since high school). She threw her backpack and skateboard in the back seat, climbing in and closing her door.

“Ugh.” She grunted as her teeth chattered and she rubbed her bare legs. 

“You know its only May, you shouldn’t even be wearing shorts yet. The snow just melted.”

Lizzy glared at you playfully and put her hand out to do your handshake. You did it, then put the car in drive and started slowly down the street, windshield wipers moving rhythmically.

“How was the shift?” You asked as you checked your mirrors and wiped some humidity off the rear view. 

“Same old” Lizzy leaned back in her seat and pulled the visor mirror down to fix her hair. “That old man Collins from the cannery keeps coming in and harassing me.”

“Jack? The one with the eye patch?” 

Lizzy nodded dramatically as she held the bobby pins in her mouth and started to twist her straight black hair off her face. 

“That guy-“ She finished placing the final pin and slammed the visor closed “-Is an absolute creep.”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He’s like...70. And widowed. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Im just...asserting my boundaries.”

“You literally have a 3 foot counter between you at minimum, at all times.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is we need hotter men in this town. Like...soon.”

You nodded in agreement and felt your eyes wander all over the road, remembering the time you and Rudy had taken your longboards down it after a torrential downpour and you had crashed and gotten such bad road burn that he had to call his dad to come pick you both up because you couldn’t walk.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening?” Lizzy cut back in, staring at you.

“No, what?”

“I said, speaking of hot guys, I heard Rudy is coming back for a few months.”

You pinched your face and looked at her then at the road, then back at her.

“Rudy is not hot. Rudy is....Rudy. What are you talking about?”

Lizzy looked at you disbelieving and closed her mouth, trying not to smile.

“What!” You repeated, smacking her arm.

“Hey!” She laughed, then shook her head and looked out the window. “Whatever you say man, I just think....” She grabbed her water bottle and began to screw off the lid “I just think...he’s not gonna be the same Rudy that left 4 years ago. He’s like...a movie star now.”

You couldn’t even begin to touch that one. You knew what she was doing...she was always harping on you about going on dates or taking trips with her to the mainland to hook up with the pilots during their layovers. You never went, and always insisted that you were just fine and were not interested. She never listened. Part of that was true...you were fine, and usually not interested. But sometimes, when the water was calm and the sunset was colourful and the fish were jumping and your beer was cold...you wished you had someone to share it with.

“I’m going up to Skagway this weekend with my dad” You said, changing subjects. “He’s short a guide and needs someone to drive the boat.”

“Lucky you” She said sarcastically, screwing the lid back on her bottle. “Another weekend spent with men twice your age who have zero ability to catch a fish and even less ability to smell nice.” 

“It’s good money.” You said flatly, annoyed that everything seemed to revolve around men with her. “And in case you forgot I’m kinda in need of that at the moment.”

Lizzy licked her lips and put her hands up, dipping her head. 

“Alright...noted. Chill out Kemosabe.” She giggled under her breath and looked out her window, drawing a small penis in the moisture on the window.

“Babe, seriously. You need to get laid.” You said, shaking your head.

“I know” She replied, working on the veins. “Trust me. Im in a state of national emergency by this time of year.”

Lizzy was absolutely one of the girliest girls (and most beautiful girls) in the south of Alaska, which was ironic considering the house she grew up in. Her dad was an overweight German restaurant entrepreneur who had opened a world class seafood restaurant in Juneau back in the 90s and had shacked up with her mother who was this drop dead gorgeous Haida warrior woman who you had literally seen kill and skin a bear with her own hands. 

They had forged this chain of restaurants local to Alaska that people flew hundreds of miles to eat at, but still lived in an off-grid cabin that hadn’t been insulated since 1960 and used wood heating. Not really the type of family that screamed southern belle femininity - yet somehow Lizzy came out of that union with a pink bed set, refusing to ever wear camo or sweatpants, and still had never shot a gun - which her mother reminded her of weekly. 

Lizzy had hit puberty at 10 and had used her breast advantage over every girl in your class for the next 3 years like some sort of distinction of better genetics, as if she needed boobs to prove that. Unlike you, she was naturally thin and tall (6ft to be precise), had long, thick straight black hair and olive skin, and perfect hips. You felt like a prepubescent boy standing next to her, with your uneven complexion and your frizz and your awkward thigh fat distribution. You were envious of her genetics - her mother graced her with the body of an athlete and the thick black hair, and her father had given her height and cheekbones that could slice through glass. You looked down at your arms, covered in freckles, pasty white from lack of sun, and cringed, looking back at the road.

You turned the corner leaving the main road and starting on the dirt road that led to your favourite part of beach access. Lizzy pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and took off her seatbelt, leaning forward to pull it down over her head. You leaned forward and looked up, this was your favourite part of the drive. The dirt road which was lined with moss and ferns and other foliage wound along the base of the snow capped mountain that was at least 1000ft in elevation. The mist and fog from the coast was thick and creeped through the tall cedar trees, black ravens and falcons flying overhead stark against the white mist. This was the most idyllic picture of northwest coastal living you could find.

When you parked at the trail head Lizzy slipped off her work flats and into her Teva’s, you grabbed your yellow Vans out of your trunk and slipped them on. You usually drove bare foot, a habit you had started in high school after Rudy had thrown your shoes off the dock at the restaurant and you had to drive home without any. You grabbed your sweater and your backpack which had the beer in it. As you were both gathering the rest of your things...beach blanket, hats, and rain cover, you heard a car pull up behind you. You stood up out of the trunk and squinted to see the car through the fog. It was a black ford pickup you had never seen before. 

“Who’s that?” Lizzy chimed in from behind you.

“No clue” You said as you lifted your hand to wave once. 

The truck had tinted windows and looked brand new. When it pulled up beside you, the drivers side window began to unroll, revealing Junior - your high school (ex) sweetheart.

“Holy” You said, eyebrows up, nodding. “Nice truck - where’d you steal it from?” He rolled his eyes at you dramatically.

“Whatever kid - its a rental. Got it to drive to the airport in.” His chest puffed out and his expression read so proud. 

“Airport?” You said inquisitively. “Since when does Alan pay you to drive new trucks to the airport?” 

“Since Rudy hired him for the pick up service and apparently is incapable of driving his own ass around anymore” Junior snorted and waved at Lizzy.

“Or he doesn’t have a car here anymore” You noted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Either way, I get this bad boy for the next 24 hours and I intend to give her the royal grand tour of our humble town.” He ran his hand up and down the steering wheel, stroking the new leather. “Wanna go for a rip?” He said, winking. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Well I do” Lizzy piped up from beside you, walking closer to the window. She smiled at Junior and began to put her hair in a pony tail. She nudged your arm as she began to walk to the passenger side door. “Come on, granny. Let’s go!”

She laughed as she climbed up into the truck, but you shook your head again.

“I’m good...you kids have fun. Say hi to Rudy for me” You said to Junior, who shrugged his head and muttered ‘definitely wont do that�� under his breath.

Lizzy blew a kiss at you and waved once before Junior put it in drive and started to go up the dirt road north of you. 

Junior and you had ended on okay terms, but he had concocted a theory that you had broken up with him because of another guy, and the unspoken suggestion was that that guy had been Rudy. Small town guys had a heck of a time with the idea of girls and guys just being friends. 

You sighed and watched as the truck disappeared around the corner, and turned back to your own car. You grabbed your backpack and slammed the trunk closed, walking down the path alone. You weren’t mad at Lizzy for going with him - she was flighty and bailed on you at the bar all the time - but you were mad the beer was going to go warm before you could drink it all. Not that you should even be drinking 6 beers alone by the water when you had to drive yourself home. Doubtful the 2 cops in this town would even be awake to see you though. Whatever.

You reached the end of the path and rounded the corner, revealing the coast line and the rocky beach. It was your favourite place to sit and think, sit and smoke, sit and be yourself. The beach curled in a U shape, giving you a private spot where the rest of the shoreline was blocked from view and all you could see was the ominous cedar forest that stretched up the mountain, the snow caps at the top, and the horizon over the cold pacific.

You had intended to share the joint you had in your pocket with Lizzie, but...well, her loss. You spread the blanket out on the softest patch of sand and rocks you could find (which still meant you were guaranteed to get at least 2 rocks in the ass) and placed your bag down, kicking off your sneakers. You took a deep breath for the first time in a few days and lit the joint, taking one long, deep inhale. You felt it tingle through your chest and your arms and legs almost immediately, relaxing you. Being here alone always sent you into a spiral of memories and thoughts that you worked hard during the day to suppress. Most insistent lately had been thoughts about your health problems. You called them ‘health problems’ but in reality it was just an eating disorder. You could go 2, sometimes 3 days without eating anything, and never felt hungry. It started after graduation.

You had lost weight, dramatically, going from a stable 120-125 to 95 at most and 90 at worst, in the span of a month. And for the next three years you had never gained it back, you had stayed at a relatively stable 95, which still left you looking sickly and too thin at 5’3”. Your frame wasn’t built for that kind of weight drop, you were Scottish and Cree, sprinkled with a little bit of German and Irish. A classic northwest cracker mix. You weren’t naturally small, you always had a bit of something to grab onto, but it was normal to your body, healthy. 

Some part of your brain knew that it had something to do with leaving school...and the pretence that came with that. The expectation...the responsibility. You were never that kind of person, and it never really bothered you, but suddenly it had. You never planned to go to University right away, but you had no back up plan. It wasn't something you and your friends really talked about. But suddenly Jacob had gotten into U of Washington, Dan had left to backpack Europe, and Rudy had not so graciously announced he was deferring his acceptance and scholarship to culinary school because he wanted to be an actor, and flew to LA the next month. You had been left behind, with Lizzy of all people, and it had hit you hard.

You looked around the beach, dragging on your joint quicker than normal, trying to knock the thoughts out of your head. An Eagle screeched above - scaring you - and you laid back on the blanket, closing your eyes. You needed to chill the hell out. This was the first time in a few weeks that you had gotten a night off from helping your dad with his guide business and you didn’t plan on wasting it riddling your brain with anxiety and worrying about your body.

You looked up at the sky and watched the mist and fog kiss the clouds, the sunset colours dancing across them. As it usually did, the rain had stopped just as the sun was going down, the clouds parting briefly and letting the smallest sliver of sunlight through, just enough to burn the grey light out of the sky and allow the pink and orange hues to fade along the horizon. You sat up and cracked a beer, enjoying the fresh smelling air and the rhythmic sound of the waves licking the shore line. 

Two beers in you had put on your jacket and placed your Bluetooth speaker next to you on the blanket, blasting a playlist that Rudy had made you for your graduation party.

Three beers in you took the jacket off, standing up and dancing by yourself on the beach to the music.

Four beers in you laid down on the blanket, balled your jacket up and used it as a pillow, and started looking for shapes in the stars.

Five beers in you fell sleep.

———

Many hours later, as the sun rose and was bright on the water and the early morning bird feed was in full swing overhead, you were drifting in and out of sleep to the squawking when a shadow came across your face, alerting you to groggily open your eyes.

“What’s up, Little Fern?” His voice had gotten deeper. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and blinked, raising a hand to block the sun. There, in your very awake and very not dreaming state, was the unmistakable silhouette that you had spent the last 18 years dreaming about and 18 years being a friend to.

Rudy.

[before-we-get-started]

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Three

“Colin? Colin? You with me, man?”

He stirred, then became aware of intense pain in his back and neck. He let out a moan.

“There he is.”

He recognized Kevin’s voice. He slowly opened his eyes, his head pounding as he focused on the light. “What the hell?”

“It’s ok man, you’re gonna be ok. You scared the shit out of us.”

“Kevin!” Colin’s mom scolded him as she sat at the edge of his bed, holding his hand.

“Hi Honey, dad and I are here.”

“What happened?”

“We nailed the razzle dazzle but you got taken out,” said Kevin. “Landed on your head, which for you shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it knocked you out. We lost you for a minute. Heart stopped and everything. Spencer got you back.”

Colin groaned. “Oh no, tell me he didn’t kiss me.”

“Look, when you’re dead, does it really matter? The guy saved your life. If mouth-to-mouth was involved, so be it.”

“Aah, gross!”

“Colin, for heaven’s sake, we’re just glad you’re still with us,” said his mom, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.

“You really did scare the shit out of us son,” said his dad, his mom slapping at dad’s hand for the profanity.

Their conversation was interrupted as a young nurse entered the room. “Mr. Shea, glad to have you back.”

Even severely concussed and in pain, Colin was on the prowl. “Are you here for my sponge bath? I can make everyone disappear,” he said with a crooked smile.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “We have a special nurse that takes care of those. I’ll have her paged. Her name is Agnes, she’s wonderful, been doing this for 50 years-“

Colin’s dad let out a belly laugh.

“That’s ok,” he said, all the cockiness gone. “I’ll just get some rest.”

“Right,” she said with a grin. She adjusted the IV bag on the stand next to his bed, wrote his vitals on the board for the next nurse and left the room.

Colin closed his eyes, then quickly opened them, springing up from the bed. He grabbed his throbbing head. “Dude, what time is it, we’re gonna be late!” He pulled the blanket away and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Kevin stopped him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, lay back down. You’re not going anywhere.” His mother pulled the blanket back up to cover him.

“We’re gonna be late! We can’t miss this!” Colin said as he tried again to sit up.

“Colin, just lay down. We’re not going to be late. It’s ok.”

Colin laid his arm over his forehead and closed his eyes. “How long do we have? We’re supposed to be there at 6.”

Kevin chuckled at his bedside while he saw sadness in his mom’s eyes.

“What’s so funny?” said Colin.

“It’s Thursday. You lost three days, dude.”

He laid still for a second, considering what Kevin had said. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. You’ve been out for three days. You took a hard hit. That Jordan dunk was worth it though, huh?”

Colin groaned. “No, no, no!” He rubbed his forehead and groaned again. “I can’t believe this. We’ll never get this chance again.”

“The producer said he’d try to get back with us but he was headed to L.A. for the next few months. He wished us luck. Look, all that matters is that you’re ok.”

His mother patted his hand. “Colin, it’s ok, just rest. The most important thing is that you’re ok and that you heal.”

“Damn,” Colin muttered under his breath. He’d been trying to gather his thoughts since waking up, everything still foggy. He remembered walking to the basketball court. He remembered their opponents asking for a best-of-3 game. He even remembered he was wearing his favorite Celtics t-shirt. And he remembered her.

“Kevin, were there any girls at the court? Watching the game?”

“Good Lord Colin, are you ever not thinking about girls?” said his dad.

“No, no, I just keep thinking about this girl. Chestnut hair, chocolate eyes, really sexy legs. Was she there watching us?”

“Nope,” said Kevin, popping the p. “No chocolate-eyed girls. In fact, no girls at all. A total sausage fest.” This earned Kevin one more smack from Colin’s mom.

Colin closed his eyes and rubbed them, sighing. His band had missed their shot and a beautiful brunette that he wasn’t sure existed was living rent-free in his brain. It was all too much.

“Alright man, I’m out of here. Glad you’re alive. The band would suck without a lead guitarist,” said Kevin.

“Good to know how much I mean to you,” said Colin, gripping his hand in their special handshake. “Thanks Kevin.”

Kevin walked out as Colin’s mom fluffed his pillow behind his head. All he could do was close his eyes and drift off, hoping to escape all the disappointment breaking his heart.

“You’re moving great, girlfriend.”

Cori grinned at her mother’s encouragement as she stepped out onto the patio. It had been three months since she’d stepped off the curb into the path of a cab. Fortunately the driver had been slowing already, so when he hit her, the impact could’ve been worse. As it was, the impact had caused her heart to stop. An ambulance two lanes over had responded and gotten her to the hospital in minutes, and they’d shocked her and brought her back. She’d broken an ankle and a wrist and suffered a severe concussion. She’d been unconscious for nearly a week. Her recovery had been steady, her parents welcoming her into her old room and nursing her back to health.

She sat down under the umbrella at the patio table, lifting her bad leg onto the ottoman. Her mother brought lemonade for them both, sitting down next to her.

“You look wonderful honey,” her mother said, covering her hand. “I’m so thankful you’ve recovered so well.” She stared down at the table, then raised her eyes to Cori.

“I think we need to talk.”

“Sure,” said Cori, sipping the lemonade.

“About that day, I mean.”

Cori swallowed hard. She knew this conversation was coming. “I don’t remember much,” she said.

“I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to talk about why.” She patted Cori’s hand.

“Mom –“

“Corinne,” she said sternly. “The counselor said part of your healing is assessment and accountability.”

Cori rolled her eyes and her mother gently slapped her hand.

“You and I both know you were going through a lot when this happened. You had lost so much. Dad and I should’ve paid more attention. We should’ve seen the signs.” Her voice broke and she wiped at a tear on her cheek.

“Mom,” said Cori, leaning forward to comfort her. “Please. Look, I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine before the accident. I was struggling with all of it. But Mom, I wouldn’t ever try to – you know –“

Her mom slid her chair closer and wrapped her arms around her. “Of course not, honey. We both know that despite everything, you have so much to live for.”

“I do,” she said, but the confidence was gone from her voice.

“Corinne. You have always been my happy child. You sang loudest in the choir, you were the cheerleader with the biggest smile, your pirouettes were full of energy – those other girls in dance couldn’t begin to turn the way you did. How many times have I walked in on you singing at the top of your lungs into your hair brush or heard you laughing like crazy at ‘Friends.’”

“Mom –“

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “you don’t need a guy to be your happiness. Sure, it’s wonderful to have companionship. But you are intelligent and fun and caring, sweet and loving. There is someone out there for you, and I’m sorry Matthew made you take a detour. But before you find the right one, you have to be sure you know who you are.”

Her mom was definitely starting to sound like the counselor. “Ma, you’re exactly right. I made the mistake of trusting two people with my happiness and they let me down. And despite everything, even though I’ve had these challenges, I know I have my whole life ahead of me and I’m ready to start this adventure again.”

Her mom looked at her, not completely buying what Cori was selling.

“Mom! I mean it! Look, what happened to me scared the absolute crap out of me. I know I’m lucky to have survived. But I did for a reason – there are obviously things I haven’t done yet.” Isn’t that what he told me before he kissed me?

Finally her mother smiled. “That’s the Cori I know and love,” she said softly. “You took several years off your dad’s and my lives kiddo. All we want is for you to be happy. We want you to have everything you want.” She squeezed Cori’s hand. “Promise me you’ll concentrate on being happy and having fun and not worry about what you think society expects from you.”

She let loose with another eye roll.

“Cori, seriously. You’ll find someone and marry when the time is right. I promise you you’ll know when you’ve found the right one.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh, spoken by the one who married her high school sweetheart,” she said with a smirk.

“Hey, I can’t help it if Mr. Right took me to my senior prom. But I sure knew he was the one,” she said with a wink.

“Did someone call my name?” Her dad walked out onto the patio, passing Cori a bottle of beer.

“Oh brother,” she said as her dad leaned down to kiss her mom’s cheek. She loved that they were still so much in love. Could there really be that type of romance out there for her somewhere?

“We were just discussing Cori’s fresh start,” said her mom, “and all she has to look forward to.”

“You’ve always been full of joy, Princess,” said her dad. “Your future’s so bright…”

“Don’t!” Cori groaned.

“You’re gonna need shades,” her mom and dad said in unison, laughing loudly at themselves.

“What’s so funny?” her sister asked, carrying out some snacks.

“NOT mom and dad,” said Cori, and they laughed even louder.

They munched and chatted and Cori felt a calm she hadn’t in some time. She was blessed with a loving family and all the support in the world. Even as she worked through the noises crowding her brain, she had the people she needed around her.

Listening to them talking, Cori closed her eyes. At some point she’d love to talk about what happened after the accident, but her memory was still so sketchy. She remembered taking the elevator down from her office, pressing herself up against the glass on the crowded sidewalk, even stopping on the corner and pushing the button to get the crossing light. But that’s where it ended. Her next memory was in the hospital, her mother stroking her hand and her father standing next to her bed.

She let out a sigh. She’d dodged a bullet, that was for sure. She was so lucky to be alive. She swore she could remember the feeling of being brought back to life, the power surging through her.

And then, as she remembered the feeling of electricity, the flash of a face – beautiful blue eyes, spiky blonde hair, firm biceps and pecs and a Celtics t-shirt. As quickly as the memory was there, it was gone. She guessed it must be someone she’d seen at the hospital, or maybe on the street before she was hit.

“What are you grinning about?” her mother said, interrupting the thought.

She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

She helped her mother clear their dishes and then packed up leftovers for her sister. After hugging her goodbye, she said good night to her parents and showered, covering her casts with a bag, then crawled into bed with a book. She finished only a few pages before sleep claimed her, the book sliding down the covers.

In her dreams, she could see the turquoise water so clearly. She was naturally drawn to it. The water was so blue and still, the sky golden. She’d almost made it but then he was there. Suddenly there were blue eyes and his lips were pressed to hers in a passionate kiss, a jolt of electricity stunning her body.

She jumped from under the covers, bracing herself with her good arm. She fully expected to see still water when she looked over the side of the bed, but it was just her bedroom.

Who was he? And why was he there? There was no mistaking that the kiss was delicious. She closed her eyes and hummed as she remembered it again. But where was she when she was kissing him? She hadn’t seen anyone since Matthew. There had been no one.

Those features were suddenly clear to her, the angled nose and chiseled jawline, with a few freckles across his high cheekbones. The thought of him took her breath away. She could remember the details but she couldn’t conjure the entire face. There was a silver chain, and a tattoo – were they words? – and Celtic green. As quickly as the memory was there, it was gone. The doctors had told her she may have snippets of memories from her entire life until the effects of the concussion healed. Wasn’t it her luck that she’d been kissed by a guy that was a figment of her imagination. It was a kiss for the ages, one she wouldn’t forget any time soon. She hoped thinking of it would give her courage as she stepped back into the world.

* * * *

“Here honey,” said Colin’s mom, adjusting the pillows behind his head on the couch. “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”

“Ma, thanks but I’m fine, I swear.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, straightening up things in the kitchen.

Colin was in a funk. Despite his doting mother and all her TLC, he was still down hard. For the last three months, he’d struggled to come to terms with what he’d lost. His dream of his band making it big was gone. It had taken weeks for his body to heal. He was moving better but there was still some pain. The horrible headache that was part of his severe concussion had finally lifted, but he was still in a fog.

The guys were getting restless, they wanted to start playing again. They’d been able to book some parties and a gig at one of their regular bars. He had two more weeks to get it together, make sure his guitar skills had returned to normal, and they’d start their quest again.

Only he just wasn’t feeling it. No matter how hard he tried, there was a gray cloud over his head. And then there was that girl. His memory was hazy, he tried so hard to remember her. Beautiful hair and eyes, with a sweet, heart-shaped mouth. And yet all he could remember was how sad she looked. She haunted his dreams every night and the memory would disappear. He didn’t know who she was or where she came from, or if she was even real. He only knew she was going to end it all if he hadn’t stopped her. How could someone so beautiful feel so sad that they didn’t want to exist anymore?

“Honey, you’re so deep in thought. Don’t you want to rest?”

“Ma, I really, really appreciate you taking care of me but I’m fine. Really.”

She sat down on the chair across from him and took a good look at him. “You look better,” she said. “And your appetite is back. All good signs.”

“So how about you go home and take care of dad for a while? I know he’s been missing you.”

She chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s true,” she said with a smile.

“Ok, well I know he’s missed your cooking,” he said.

“That is true,” she said, “and from the looks of his belly, he could afford to miss it for a

while.”

Colin laughed and his mother smiled at him. “That’s music to my ears,” she said. She walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, running her fingers over his hair. “You know, maybe you could think about bringing a nice girl home to us,” she said. “I could teach her how to cook all your favorites.”

“Ma-“

“I know, I know, you like to play the field. But really Colin, how about just finding a nice girl you can settle down with. And then you can start giving me grandbabies,” she said with a brilliant smile.’

“Come on Ma,” he said as she pinched his cheeks.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

“Shoot,” said Colin.

“I’ll go home and leave you be, but you have to promise you won’t overdo it. And you’ll eat what I left you and not order any crap until you’re better.”

He laughed again and sat up, wrapping her up in a hug. “You’re the best Ma ever, you know that, right?”

“Well, that’s because you’re my baby boy.”

He blushed as she ruffled his hair. “Ok, I’m out of here. I love you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “And I’m glad you’re still around to eat my lasagna.”

“Me too,” he said.

She made her way out of his apartment and he stared up at the ceiling. He had to return to the living. He forced himself off the couch and fought the urge to return to bed, grabbing his guitar. It had always been his solace. When he felt his lowest, he’d simply pound out a song and his mood would instantly improve. He strummed slowly, but his heart wasn’t in it. He set it down and laid back on the couch, curling up under a blanket and covering his head with a pillow. As he closed his eyes, he hoped she’d once again be there, so clear and yet not even a true memory.

Tomorrow was a new day. He’d try joining the living again tomorrow.

[thattimdrakeguy]

Future Slate: ROBIN ETERNAL #2 - Even if you haven’t  read it. You certainly seen a lot of it before.

I don’t even know what to put in a review for Robin Eternal #2, cause it’s like, it’s the same mistakes as always.

Can’t draw Tim like how he’s described, he has the personality of burnt toast cause it doesn’t feel entirely like him, they keep acting like Stephanie is his soul mate when that clearly isn’t the fucking case, and it’s so repetitive and boring.

I’ve used the same panels where someone Tim’s own age comments on how Tim looks baby-faced and short for his age to the point it’s stale and just tiring. Repetitive in it’s own right:

But it’s the same mistake so I feel like I have to say it again. 

He’s seventeen there, only grows an inch after. So he’s still short, he’s pretty friggin’ baby-faced even for his age, so that’s going to stay even if he does look a bit older. He’ll still look overall pretty dang young for his age. It’s not like short baby-faced people don’t exist. It’s not infantilizing him like how ignorant people act, it is quite literally what he looks like, and what real actual people look like.

And being able to draw your main character is very important. Because otherwise, you’re doing something very wrong--and guess what, they’re just drawing him very wrong. Which is such a constant error with DC Comics and Tim Drake.

I get he’s older, but you got make it look like TIM still. It’s an older TIM, not just some random dude. Second puberty doesn’t exist. So you have to make it actually look like Tim still. This isn’t the 90s where you make everyone really buff and chiseled, and make them look like steroid abusers during an age up. HE STILL HAS TO LOOK LIKE TIM.

Give him a more mature haircut, take a bit of the softness out since, yeah, he is older, add a scar if you want, I don’t care, but the fact remains that Tim has an obviously specified look and you can’t just ignore it to make him look totally different. Which artists just keep freaking doing

For another example, here’s the artist drawing Tim during his origin (I dress like this sometimes. So it’s low-key cool to me. But still):

Here’s what Tim actually looked like:

They couldn’t even draw him then? Did he not use reference? I wouldn’t know that’s the same character. He’s the size of a grape in his origin. They ironically drew origin Tim to look closer to what he’s supposed to at 18 here. (Not saying he’s 18 in the story, cause I have no idea. A bit too sci-fi for him to just be 18 tho I imagine.)

They’re never going to have an easy time getting his fan base back when they keep proving time and time again that they don’t get him. I feel like most times they do get a moment that feels like him it’s out of coincidence.

Then there’s the story, that’s so freaking repetitive, and so empty. It’s a nothing story. There is nothing to remember about this story. They barely acknowledge or act like Tim even freaking died. They mention it, but it’s like “Haha, yeah, guys, I totally died”, like Tim the kid who probably has 50 existential crisis a month wouldn’t have a whole moment about literally having died.

Plus, I think it’s just really lazy and stupid to just rip off Jason’s story and giving it to Tim. Taking Duke’s friend and giving it to Tim, just leaves such a bad taste in mine and I’m pretty sure others mouths.

In my head I can’t get over the repetition.

“WE HAVE TO DO SOME ABOUT THE RESIN”

“WE HAVE TO DESTROY IT”

“THEY’RE GOING TO DESTROY IT”

“OUR MISSION IS TO DESTROY IT”

“SOMETHINGS WEIRD WITH ROBIN”

“ROBIN SOMETHINGS WEIRD WITH YOU”

“ALL THE PRESSURE IS ON ME”

“THEY’RE HERE CAUSE OF ME”

“IT’S ALL ON ME”

And then it’s like, anything new they add to the issue it’s like “WOW. THIS PLOT TROPE THAT’S BEEN DONE A MILLION TIMES OVER. WOW! STELLAR, AND ORIGINAL, AND NOT BORING.”.

Way to go, fellas. What a comic to make for a new generation that’s going to think the same thing as a lot of people already, because you keep writing him bland or terrible: That Tim is boring.

When you never do what makes Tim interesting to begin with. You’re never going to make people know why he’s a good character. DC doesn’t seem to have the range for it anymore.

The closest they get is during the hallucination scene, but it’s played so much like the cliché that we’ve seen plenty of times in stuff like Spider-Man: Far From Home, that it leads me to believe that the writer might’ve just saw that and incidentally got inspiration to write the scene she ended up writing or something along those lines. It feels too familiar to the already scene.

Cause like, yeah, Tim’s insecurity is a major part of his character, but he’s is a bit more nuanced than that, he changes during the story, he cracks under pressure a bit, which they sort of do here but you have to give him a world he can actually react to, that will make it feel like Tim. Tim had a big life full of friends, and family, and Bat-Family. When you strip him of all that, and give him a girlfriend that’s never meant to be what they make it, and take Duke’s freaking friend like it’s Tim’s, you’re not doing it right.

It just gets to me, because feeling under pressure, being insecure, being scared that your family is going to disappointed in you. Those are all Tim things that made him so interesting, but it’s not in Tim’s voice I guess I could say.

It’s not a very full rendition of Tim to make it work. The geek, the fanboy, anxiety, the kid trying so hard not to be a kid (although he’s an adult in Future Slate obviously), the naïve sense of justice that gets so confusing for him and conflicted. The things that makes Tim have nuance to him and can add different angles to different things about him.

Without it being in Tim’s voice, with Tim’s full personality, or setting, it leads him to feeling too generic, and typical. Which is something they need to learn from, because to a lot of people, he’s already the boring one since they never really wrote him as his own character for so long, a lot of people don’t even know anything about him.

I enjoy the attempt, but I’m disappointed at the lack of success.

Then, well, with Steph it’s pretty blunt. They fought all the time, and didn’t get along. They need to stop acting like they’re a healthy couple or soul-mates, because this is past the 90s, and just acting like they’re really healthy cause of a few cute moments of questionable characterization is never going to feel right for anyone that doesn’t already ship it.

In the end Robin Eternal isn’t a two parter that I’m annoyed exists. I think I’m happier that it exists than I am disappointed it is. I’m disappointed at how it turned out, but not the idea of it existing. Tim hasn’t had his own spotlight since about a decade ago, and Tim’s frickin’ Robin in it. That’s amazing. Seeing him get to be Robin Eternal just feels really right inside. It reminds me of when Young Justice saw into the future, and Tim was there and was Robin still as an adult. Like a balance is restored here. Real people don’t work on superficial rules, and not everyone needs to be a Nightwing. I don’t care for that stereotype. So I’m just glad about that, even if story or character wise it’s nothing major.

It just sucks that this story couldn’t be anything more.

It needed a different artist, and a writer that knew what Tim was like when he’s actually fleshed out. This should’ve been Tim’s big comeback, but it’s not. It just feels like reinforcement that Tim’s stuck. And that really really blows.

It’s not all bad, but it’s not quite right enough to be what it needs to be.