#also this is one of like seven things I wrote today which I am Proud of

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: sex workers reader and toji, wrestling, he puts you in a headlock, ass slapping

as a sex worker under an agency, you sometimes get the opportunity to perform certain tropes that you wouldn't think too much about doing on your own. there have been quite a few that your manager has thrown your way; medical play, light BDSM scenes, and now, mixed wrestling. you've done your fair share of oiled up fighting with other women in your career, but you've never wrestled a man before.

its all staged, much like real wrestling except—except you're not too sure why or how you were paired up with infamous actor Toji Fushigurou. technically speaking, you two aren't anywhere near the same weight class, but you're not sure if technicalities even count for a job like this.

there are a few rules: no actual striking of each other, take the others underwear off during the fight, no biting. as the ref lists off all the other little things you two need to remember, you both take each other in. Toji is, for lack of better words, fucking huge. he's got at least six inches on you, packed with muscle and a nonchalant kind of finesse that makes you just the slightest bit nervous under his stare. he stands only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs, and you can make out the outline of his soft cock, despite the fact that it still rests low on his thigh.

he grins at you when he notices your ogling, winking once when you frown at him. he's been in the industry for so long, he's more than used to being objectified, but something about your little defiance that shines in your eyes makes him want to tear into you, piece by piece.

"Go!" the ref announces once she's finished listing her instructions. Toji doesn't immediately attack you, instead grins at you, hands on his waist as he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. with a, albeit weak, battle cry, do you lunge at him—

and quickly find yourself pinned. you don't know how he does it so quickly, maneuver you as if you only weighed a pound, but he does it. catches you in his arms and swings you around until your back meets the floor with a grunt, the wind suddenly knocked out of you. he's gentle though, where he pins you with his knees on either side of you.

"At least try to put up a fight," he teases you, pulling at the straps of your bikini. but you fight him off as much as you can, grunting and cursing at him, taking this entirely too seriously for what will ultimately end with you being fucked into oblivion by the man. doesn't mean you have to go out without a fight, though.

although, your fight doesn't mean much to Toji. by the third and final round, you're fully naked and he's still got his underwear on. your ass is slapped raw by how many times his too big hands have groped you, nipples pinched to sensitivity. you're not surprised when the ref announces your lost, tells Toji to claim his prize.

and he does just that. pins you on the floor, finally releasing the thickness of his cock. he's cocky the entire time, teasing, with how he pins you on your stomach, holding you in a headlock as he fucks his cock too deep inside of you to put up much of a fight anymore.

"Did you even try?" he asks, breathy, a smirk plastered on his face as he looms over your shoulder. "Or did you want to end up like this? With my dick in your stomach? The fight worked you up that much, huh?"

he taps your clit with too thick, mean fingers with his other hand, tightening his bicep around your throat when you try to get smart with him. he knows its all bark and no bite, if judging by the way your cunt sucks him in is anything to go by. you can only gurgle out a curse to him, eyes rolling back in your head when his wicked laugh only pushes you over the edge to climax.

(after the scene ends, he kisses your temples and squeezes your waist, telling you that you guys should do more scenes together. you only stick out your tongue at him, promising to get stronger so you can take him down next time. he laughs at you, more than happy to entertain your thoughts that will, truthfully, never come true.)

[the-lincyclopedia]

41, 58, 69!

41. last person you texted?

My partner's mom, actually! Yesterday I texted her a picture of a Frida Kahlo notebook I got recently, since she's a Frida Kahlo fan, and she wrote me back today and I just responded. This is the first time in my life I've felt anywhere close to having in-laws, and I feel like I'm getting a good grade in being her kid's partner, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Ooh, you're gonna make me be proud of myself? Okay, here we go.

1) To paraphrase something one of my coworkers said about me yesterday, I am the Chicago Manual of Style incarnate. I know all the grammar and punctuation rules you could possibly want to know. I am a damn good copy editor, and I'm also pretty fast at it.

2) I'm really good at what I call "abstracting properly"--that is, I'm good at figuring out what the relevant principles at play in a situation are, and from there how to ask questions that get at the different things to consider when trying to figure out right and wrong in a particular circumstance.

To take a recent example, I responded to a post about the US Supreme Court and wrote about how "there's a fundamental tension--competing goods, I'd say--between being able to articulate, point to, share, and agree on the details of a specific set of principles, on the one hand, and adapting to the times, on the other hand." I am good at looking at problems that way, basically in real time.

3) I'm really good at being organized. It just comes naturally to me. I love sorting things (it's the autism), and I love knowing where things are and being able to find them quickly. I tag so consistently that I can find almost any post from my blog from the past few years in a matter of minutes. My Google Drive is an intricate system with layers upon layers of sub-folders. In physical space I'm a little bit messier, but I still know where almost all my stuff is.

4) I'm pretty good at language learning. I think I overstate this talent to myself sometimes, and then I run into an unfamiliar language and get frustrated when I'm not immediately fluent, but I am significantly better at language learning than average. At [location redacted], I was the only kid anyone in my cohort could remember who was placed in the highest Swedish class their first year in the program.

Meanwhile, in school, I took Spanish one in seventh grade, Spanish two in eighth grade, Spanish three freshman year, skipped Spanish four, took Spanish five sophomore year, and was one of three kids in the whole (2000+ student) school taking Spanish six my junior year. I got a five out of five on the AP Spanish test my sophomore year of high school, and my senior year of high school I got a seven out of seven on the IB Spanish B Higher Level exam and a six out of seven on the IB Swedish B Standard Level exam. Like, I know people who are better at languages than I am, and you're probably one of them, but my results are definitely better than average.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

This is such a good question, but I'm completely blanking! I feel like I try to keep track of where I get my information, even if sometimes it's as fuzzy as just knowing that I heard the thing on Tumblr. Occasionally I meet people who can cite the exact sources of their knowledge (like, full name of the author of the book or article they read something in), and I can't usually do that, but I try to avoid thinking I know things when I have no source.

When I was in school, I definitely enjoyed citing sources from outside the syllabus in my papers--usually books I'd read for previous classes or articles I'd run across on my own. Which was definitely made easier by the fact that I tend to remember where I learned things.

Get in on the ask game!

[facewithoutheart]

Thanks for the tag @forabeatofadrum & @captain-aralias! Y’all know I can’t resist the opportunity to brag about my fics; I appreciate ya.

Tagging @martsonmars @palimpsessed @tea-brigade @aristocratic-otter @sillyunicorn because I haven’t seen y’all tagged and I’d love to see your lists.

AO3 Top 10 vs My Top 10

AO3 Top 10:

A Crack in the Wall [Drarry, Jily, Wolfstar, 39k, Teen]

The Wrong Sider [Drarry, Draco & Scorpius, 66k, Teen]

We Were Always More, my WIP that @captain-aralias finished [Snowbaz, 9k, Teen]

Thirst Trapped [Snowbaz, 16k, Mature]

Shiver, @captain-aralias’s fic that I finished [Snowbaz, 7k, Mature]

On a Scale of One to Ten How Much Do You Want to Date Me Right Now [Snowbaz, 10k, Teen]

Dancing with Molly [Snowbaz, 8k, Teen]

What Am I Now? [Drarry, 600, Teen]

Seven Minutes, collab with @captain-aralias [Snowbaz, 7k, Mature]

This Will All Go Down In Flames, COBB 2022 with @tea-brigade [Snowbaz, 77k, Expicit]

Not surprising that my Drarry fics rank higher than Snowbaz fics, given the size of that fandom, but I’m glad This Will All Go Down In Flames cracked the top 10 despite being relatively new. And can I start a kudos-petition to get What Am I Now? And Dancing With Molly knocked out of my top 10? How embarrassing.

Also not surprised to see my collabs with @captain-aralias rank so high; those are such fun fics and I’m glad they are liked.

My list after the break.

My Top 5 (in no particular order, with commentary at the end)

I tend to suffer from recency bias when it comes to my fics, but it’s no surprise to me that my more conceptual stories tend to be my favorite (even though it doesn’t make them popular).

His Mercy, Mine [Snowbaz, 6k, Mature]. One of the most complicated things I’ve ever written. I haven’t reread it in awhile so hopefully it’s still as good as I remember.

And We Still Do [Snowbaz, 8k, Teen]. Another convoluted plot which required me to write five elaborate backstories for short fics LOL. But such a good stretch of my writing muscles and probably the reason I’m so burnt out on worldbuilding.

The Wedding Bet [Snowbaz, 16k, Teen]. Proof that I do my most ambitious shit when it’s a gift for someone else LOL. @martsonmars’s favorite is secretly dating but you don’t find out until the very end and I was fucking dedicated to making that happen. I tried out three other rivals to lovers AUs before settling on a HIMYM AU.

This Will All Go Down In Flames [Snowbaz, 77k, Explict]. I still dream about this fic. I fantasize about it being a movie. I drool over Baz and Simon sing-fucking on stage. This fic lives in my bones. If you read one thing by me, it’d better damn well be this fic.

in death, dignity & in death as in life [Snowbaz, 3k total, Teen]. I’m cheating in that this is actually a series but I love these two so much as companion pieces. These are fics that channeled themselves through me; I barely even remember writing them. They tackle a subject I spent a lot of time researching in college but never really considered the human aspect of until I saw a picture of someone grieving their loved one and basically couldn’t stop crying until I wrote the first fic. The second fic I wrote to heal from the first one. Maybe one day I’ll write a third in the series, aka Christina tackles the afterlife, but not today.

Recent honorable mentions to Enter Bastard and blame it on the spray because I’m proud of them for the time being.

[star-going-supernova]

Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics/art/podfics/etc. that you've made, then pass on to others. Let’s spread the self-love 🌼

(No pressure if you don't want to though!)

What a wonderful ask to wake up to! A tall order, tho, so I had to think about this for a bit, and it was harder than I thought it'd be. I've got a lot of favorites! Here are my top five favorite works of my own, not in any particular order:

The Art of Being Alive — Bendy and the Ink Machine

What would you expect if your former best friend wanted to see you again after seven years of silence?  Not this, Henry thought viciously as he swung his axe back and forth, like a murderous metronome. Never this. Or; an AU where Joey invites Henry back after less than a decade, because he discovers that only Henry’s drawings work in the Ink Machine. It's all downhill from there.

Of course this story is on my list. TAoBA was my first big project, fic or otherwise, and it will always hold a special place in my heart. I learned so much by writing this story, and while I'd do some things differently now, after years more practice and experience, TAoBA still makes me so incredibly proud. I met a lot of friends and amazing people through this fic, genuinely had so much fun with it, and I credit it and BatIM as a whole for where I am today as a fic writer.

• • •

Side Effects of Friendship — Little Nightmares

Six deciding to save Mono in the Signal Tower was only the beginning.  (this is a good-end, no-loop AU of my own making, as part of my quest to give these kids a happy ending)

Is it cheating to put a whole series as just one entry? I say no, lol. This AU and series is one of my favorites for a number of reasons. It's a very cohesive story, which I'm super proud of, and the journey I put the kids through mentally, emotionally, and physically was just so dang fun to write. I was super excited as I worked up to and hinted at the surprise twist at the end, and I really enjoyed taking this nightmarish world and expanding it in my own way. The themes of healing really seemed to resonate with a lot of people, and that also makes me super proud of this set of stories.

• • • 

Flood and Firestorm — Bendy and the Ink Machine

But it must have paused near his corridor because there was no way to ignore it. And the words registered. “…the Ink Demon’s refusal to terminate. Keepers have administered quarter hourly sessions of physical tortures—” Henry’s eyes snapped up. The kindling caught. (Henry overhears a Keeper making an audio log about how they're torturing the Ink Demon and goes ballistic.)

I've got a lot of BatIM fics that I'm super proud of, but this one makes the list because I am just so pleased and proud of a lot of the language in this fic. This was one of the first ones I wrote upon my return to the BatIM fandom, and I love it a whole lot. Henry gets to go a little bit feral, too, and that was a genuine blast to write. I've returned to reread this one a whole bunch of times.

• • •

93% Stardust — Godzilla

Indignation on his behalf, lingering irritation at Monarch, determination to help—she held on to those feelings. They’d gotten her this far, and if she forget why she was about to throw herself headfirst into the head of a giant mech with Ghidorah of all monsters at the helm, then she might as well give up now.  She slid the helmet on, squeezing her eyes shut as she did, and it was like being struck by lightning.  It was like becoming lightning. (I can't be the only one who wanted Maddie to get in the pilot seat, c'mon)

This one makes the list solely because of how much I love the final product. The abstract section was so much fun to write, and I still love the idea of Maddie getting into Mechagodzilla's head. The self-indulgence for this one was off the charts, which makes this one of my favorites!

• • •

Poetic Justice — Five Nights at Freddy's

tumblr prompt: In one world, Glitchtrap is nothing but Afton and code, forcing Vanessa into the role of Vanny in order to create Afton a new body. In another, Glitchtrap is Spring Bonnie’s original personality (before Afton), and he and Vanessa are looking for the last remains of Afton in order to destroy it for good… and just watched Gregory casually find it after months of searching. (Or, Vanessa's going to have a headache by the end of tonight.)

This one might be a surprise to some people, but I absolutely love this one-shot. The concept, the characters, the potential... it all just ticks a few very specific boxes in my brain, lol. I've gone back to reread this one many times, and I usually end up imagining different first meetings between Gregory and Michael afterward.

• • •

Honorable Mentions:

Taking the Plunge — Godzilla

This one didn't make the cut only because I had other favorites. If the list was a Top 6 or 7 favorites, this one would have been on it too.

Heavy as a Hurricane — Godzilla

I still hope to finish this one eventually, but it's an honorable mention because every time I reread it, I go "dang, hope the author updates someday, this is really good" before remembering that... ah. Yes. The author is me.

Body and Soul — Bendy and the Ink Machine

It was my first story back in the BatIM fandom after years away. Love, love, love the concept still.

the line between freedom and surrender — Bendy and the Ink Machine

This one nearly made the list because it really hits the spot for me. I'm really proud of the dialogue in this one.

see what i've become (i will no longer feed the machine) (strings 'verse) — Five Nights at Freddy's

I'm very proud of the healing in this series, in the first and last stories especially.

[todayiwokeuphere]

15.10.24 - today was so busy and productive day. I woke up at 7 am and it was already dark outside. I thought I still had them left to sleep. I got up and I made my food according to my diet plan made some rice with avocado vegan chicken veggies, beans stuff like that and my bread and had my breakfast according to the plan, I got ready for work. I left rather late. I was like seven minutes late for work and I wrote two pretty basic PR articles today that’s all I had time for and that’s what I was assigned because in the morning I had to help Yolanda with her preview stuff and so that’s one kind thing I did today during lunch I will violet was at her desk so I was wondering who had lunch with so there was Mishe and means so I sat with them  and I told Anisha about me getting a promotion and becoming a senior journalist and she made a comment that made me feel a bit but whatever I don’t care it’s her problem. She’s just so negative towards everything like if you don’t like it just go, but obviously if you’re here then you can’t find anything better so what’s the point of just putting other people down anyways I’m so happy I got this promotion. I am so proud of myself. I definitely deserve that and I’ve worked so hard for it and I have the experience and education necessary to excel this role in the afternoon I also had a meeting with pretty long meeting with Natalie who is going to be my new editor and she seems nice. I might be worried about her saying that Sonq is not good at following the guidelines the style guidelines and she will expect me to make sure they’re clear and I’m doubting if I’m not good at it but I am and I will figure it out. I will do. I will do well I will do my best and yeah I mean things will be things will be good. Everything will be fine also at work I send out some request for comments and I wrote a video blurb and that was it pretty much. I had a protein bar as a snack afterwards I went to TK Maxx and I checked out some new clothes I only like one jumper with a bear on it. It’s quite cute and the face mask and then I went to the gym. It’s been like almost an hour there and walked home which is now like 20 minutes walk basically and I spoke to mom and dad the whole time which was really nice. It felt so cosy and calm to talk to them about my daily life and everything and then I came home and made my dinner and my lunch for tomorrow and I also made some something like sweet brownies with banana for breakfast. It’s all according to my diet plan so feeling I only did Duolingo exercise and I’m not now way too tired to do more Oh and I also scheduled a date with a Chinese girl who studies into on Saturday so let’s see how that goes and I’m also talking to a girl from Uganda which seems really smart and cool but obviously we just started talking so who knows how it will go

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Canary, Part 1

It was a good day. Why did stuff always have to go wrong on ‘good days’, Marinette thought bitterly as she rushed through the city, the rough edges of her phone digging into her palm. The message she’d been sent was burned into her eyelids.

She pushed the spiraling thoughts from her mind as she stared at the street sign nearest her. Only a minute and she’d be there and her fears would be either confirmed or denied.

She leaned against the wall to gather her thoughts. If she had messed up it had to have been today because, otherwise, he would have done something earlier. Did she mess up? She allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she thought back.

~

She’d woken up on an uncomfortable mattress on the floor and rolled off of it, the sheets sticking to her sweaty skin. It had been a particularly hot day for Gotham and she had been too concentrated on typing up a report for work to turn up the AC before her impromptu nap (translation: she’d passed out).

She rubbed her eyes until she managed to get her brown contacts out and set them in the weird not-quite-water that she had never bothered to learn the name for so her eyes could rest while she took a quick shower and changed.

Then, she’d waited. She sat in the window, eyes barely poking over the sill as she watched the building across the street. She didn’t feel like moving for a long while but, alas, the meeting was supposed to be that day and she was running out of time for that thing with Calendar Man and… yeah. Unfortunately, Marinette had to be productive that day unless she wanted more enemies.

She saw movement and her face lit up. She might get everything done soon, at least, and then she could pass out for a hundred years like she oh-so-desperately wanted to.

She checked that her gloves were firmly in place, pulled on the plague doctor (gas) mask that had accidentally become her trademark, and toed on her boots.

Then, she made her way up to the alleyway next to the building she had been watching. She’d been lucky enough to have a job right next to one of her safe houses and she kinda wished that it would happen again. It was nice to not have to travel a half-hour or more just to listen in on one boring conversation.

She pulled out her knives and, after testing to make sure they were still strong enough to hold her weight, began picking her way up to the roof.

She set everything up for the thing with Calendar Man. It took approximately five seconds. Yay her.

Alright, next thing: listening in on a boring conversation that, if she was lucky, would end in someone getting shot so it wouldn’t last too long. It was going to be even hotter inside the vent and she did not want to end up cooked. That would be embarrassing.

She crawled into the vents and dutifully wrote down everything they said on a notepad. They were negotiating a drug deal and her client wanted to intercept it to try and get both the money and the (… Big D? What the fuck is Big D?) drugs. From the sounds of it, it wasn’t possible but, hey, her job wasn’t anything more than gathering intel. If her clients wanted to die stupidly that was on them.

… maybe she’d kill her client herself, she thought angrily as she readjusted in the vent in hopes of not getting stuck to the metal. It was easy money but wow was it awful.

Or, at least, it was awful until a hand grabbed her by the hood of her leather jacket and started dragging her out. She tipped her head back, grin on her face in seconds.

“Signal. Hi.”

He sighed and pulled her the rest of the way out. She let herself hang from his grip like a reprimanded cat.

“So, what’s up?” She asked brightly, as if hadn’t just caught her listening in on a private conversation.

“Great, thanks for asking,” he said. “Even better now that I’m taking the famed Canary to Arkham.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

He leveled her with a cold look for a few more seconds before splitting into a grin. “Yeah. Probably not. Got a backup plan?”

“Of course.”

“Is it even worth trying?”

“Probably not. But who knows? You could get lucky.”

She waited for a minute as he mulled over the idea in his head before he sighed. “I gotta ask: what’s with the egg?”

She swatted at his hand until he let her down and then led him over to her science experiment. “Know how there’s that expression that says ‘it’s so hot out you could make eggs on the sidewalk’ or something?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, the pavement physically can’t get hot enough to do that and also we’re up north so: aluminum foil to try and get the process to work a little better.”

He stared at her for a while before snickering. “Need a magnifying glass? We can ‘kid with an anthill’ this.”

“Sure.”

He reached into his tool belt and started looking for his spare. Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be gone.

She could feel his sharp gaze turn on her even if she couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet. He wasn’t stupid and magnifying glasses don’t usually just disappear into thin air unless they’re Plastic Man in disguise. She held up her hands for a quick search but, when he couldn’t find it on her, he just sighed and looked down at the science experiment. It didn’t seem to be going well. The egg was still distinctly not cooked.

Eventually, he groaned and sat down. The light around him flickered and started to move at his will. Marinette watched intently.

Ten minutes later, they had a cooked egg. They high-fived, delighted. They weren’t going to taste it, obviously, it had been out for a while without supervision and who knows what could have happened to it… but it was an egg! Yay them!

“My old science teacher would be so proud of me,” Marinette joked.

“My current science teacher would be proud of me.”

“Oooooh, going back to school?”

He smiled. “Yep! Robin is finally in college and Red Hood convinced me to go with him. You should, too, it’s actually not that bad.”

“Please. If I was going to do that I’d go back to my home country. American school is expensive and not all of us are sponsored by billionaires.”

“... aren’t you a millionaire?”

She grinned. “Of course. But why would I want to spend that much of my own money?”

He hummed his understanding. Then, she pushed herself up with a groan. “Right, we both have jobs. See you later.”

He hesitated and then held a hand out for her notepad. “Is it bad?”

She held it out of reach with ease. “Nah, just drugs. Unless someone got shot while I was gone but I doubt it. They’d been almost as bored as me last I heard.”

“If it’s nothing then let me see.”

“Ugh, do you really want to fight? It’s too hot for that,” Marinette complained. He started to square up and she, after a second’s thought, added a little something to convince him: “Also, there’s going to be a breakout today so you should really save your energy.”

“... really think I’m going to fall for that?”

There was an explosion in the distance.

“Yeah. I’d hurry. I’m pretty sure it’s Joker’s turn to get out.”

She waved him off with a smile… only for her smile to drop when she remembered her other job. She groaned again and stretched out while she still could.

Tikki floated over the side of the building, a magnifying glass as big as her head in her tiny paws.

Marinette rubbed the kwami’s head. “You’re the best.”

Her kwami sighed. “That I am,” she said.

Marinette grinned and sent the film of Signal using his powers to her computer so she could give it to Calendar Man when it was due.

People were always so predictable in Gotham.

~

She supposed she really had been tempting fate when she’d thought that. Still, that didn’t mean she liked it that Fate had called her bluff.

But, actually, it seemed that Fate was the one that was bluffing. That had been her entire day. She had finished up her work and then went to one of her more stocked safehouses for a nap. She’d woken up to the buzzing of her phone when she’d gotten the message. She didn’t think she had messed up anywhere…

Her shoulders relaxed. She was probably fine. Which meant it was just Oswald Cobblepot being annoying. As usual.

Marinette flung the doors to the Iceberg Lounge open. Every eye in the room fell on her, but she only cared about the eyes of one person.

She stalked through the lounge, pulling one of her twin karambits from its sheath and pointing the curved blade towards him.

“What the fuck do you want? You really think that, after almost seven whole years of rejecting your wrinkly ass, I’m suddenly going to say ‘oh, yeah, I guess I’ll work for him now’? Leave me alone!”

Cobblepot wasn’t concerned even as her knife came to rest under his chin.

“Canary,” he greeted, regarding her cooly through his monocle.

Guards surrounded them. Marinette somehow managed to look unimpressed without anyone being able to see her face.

Everyone present held their breath… except for the two with weapons pointed at themselves. They knew that they would never follow through with it, especially not in a place as public as this. It was little more than a warning, a reminder, that either of them could kill each other at any given moment and chose not to.

For now, at least.

Cobblepot dismissed the guards with a wave of a gloved hand and she, after a few seconds, lowered her knife.

“What do you want?”

“Currently? For you to get off my table,” said Cobblepot.

She snorted but hopped down with ease. “I meant: why did you call me here?”

“... we should go somewhere else to discuss this. I assume you don’t do all of your business meetings in public?”

“Only if I know ahead of time that I’m going to say no,” she said.

He motioned for her to walk with him to a private room and, reluctantly, she followed. He had to think he had something on her, otherwise he wouldn’t have tried calling her there. She was curious.

They came to a room with a metal door and she cringed a little. Fun.

She dropped eight knives down into a tray and Cobblepot put down a gun, a knife, and his umbrella. She let a female goon pat her down and then checked Cobblepot over herself. Nothing she could find, but she was sure he had found some way to hide one somewhere.

They stepped inside as a pair and each took a seat on opposing ends of the wooden table stationed awkwardly in the middle of the room. She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up.

“So, what’s the job?”

“I’m surprised you’re even going to hear it.”

She shrugged. “I’m curious.”

He nodded slowly before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

“Power poses don’t actually work, you know, that’s just lies so companies don’t actually have to deal with all the discrimination.”

“Is that true?” He asked.

She shrugged again. ��Probably. I’ve never worked for anyone, so…”

He chuckled. She didn’t like that.

But he didn’t say anything on that subject. Instead, he just smiled a smile that looked weird on his face and gave her her mission briefing: “I want you to figure out the bats’ identities for me.”

Marinette stared at him for a minute before breaking out into laughter. She couldn’t seem to stop. She stood up to leave, still giggling. Really? Did he really think that would work? People had asked many times, of course, and the bats’ identities weren’t common knowledge so she had to have said no. Why would she suddenly do it for him? She didn’t even like him.

She rested her hand on the knob but held off on leaving for just a second. She flashed a grin at Cobblepot. “Interesting offer. Bold. But no. Couldn’t pay me enough to do that.”

“Good thing I have no intentions of paying you, Marinette.”

~~~

And behold a new section I call ‘Marinette is a menace to society why would anyone let her on twitter’

(… the name may need a little work)

OliverQueenOfficial: Why does that one Gotham villain go by Canary? Black Canary already exists.

TheBetterCanary: if youre gonna vague tweet maybe dont put my name in it

TheBetterCanary: but anyways someone else named me that and it stuck before i could think of something to change it to

ScareCrane:… @/RiddleMeThis she’s dissing you

RiddleMeThis: LISTEN UP. IT WAS THEMATIC. DON’T ANY OF YOU KNOW ANYTHING OF DRAMA? EVER HEAR ABOUT CANARIES IN COAL MINES? FUCK ALL OF YOU AND YOUR UNCULTURED, UNEDUCATED ASSES. NOT TO MENTION IT WAS MAKING FUN OF THE BIRD THEME ALL THE VIGILANTES HER AGE SEEM TO HAVE. (1/14)

TheBetterCanary: @/ScareCrane why would you do that you knew he was going to do this

ScareCrane: Joker just broke out so Arkham is boring… needed to entertain myself somehow

TheBetterCanary: fuck you im not visiting this weekend

OliverQueenOfficial: Wow do I regret asking. I didn’t need all this family drama in my comments.

~~~~~

Next

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

[icantspeakspanish]

Hinata, Kageyama, Nishinoya and Tanaka finding out you practice to join their team

Ship: Hinata x Male!Reader / Kageyama x Male!Reader / Nishinoya x Male!Reader / Tanaka x Male!Reader

Warnings: none

Masterlist

A/n: @coffee-stars I am SO incredibly sorry because I accidentally deleted this request like the clown I am but I could get it back😩

Anyways- I wasn’t really sure if you wanted the reader as the characters s/o so I just wrote it like that. If you want them to be platonically lmk and I‘ll edit it!

Shoyo Hinata

you’ve managed to practice for a good month now without anyone knowing

But not any longer bestie👹

Hinata is on his way home, but has to take a different route today

But you didn’t knew that

So you were just practicing spikes, when you suddenly hear a crack behind you

The ball drops, you turn around

You’re definitely surprised to see your boyfriend standing there like 🧍‍♂️

„Y/n? What are you doing here???“ pls poor baby probably thought you ran away from home or smth like that

I mean

He‘s worried! Why would you be in a park all by yourself when its already dark outside?

But as soon as Hinata sees the volleyball which dropped to the ground earlier he starts to understand

No because you literally hear it click in his head

oh?

OH!?

„Y/N FOR WHAT ARE YOU PRACTICING? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS ALL BY YOURSELF? DID YOU-“

Please shut him up for like a minute because he screams so loud and almost stops breathing

After he calms down you explain to him that you want to join his team

HE GETS SO EXCITED

„WHY DIDNT YOU SAY ANYTHING? I COULD‘VE-“-,,Shoyo, breath!“

Will absolutely help you from now on

If you’re training to become a middle blocker too, he‘ll be so excited and would love to teach you things

but if you on a different position, he‘ll be proud too but ask his teammates to help you too!!

Hinata will tell Daichi about you

He‘s so happy to be able to play with you against other teams

Tobio Kageyama

It’s already pretty late when practice finishes

You told him your family needs your help, that’s why you can’t walk home with him today

And he’s okay with that!!

So when he hears a ball bouncing against a wall and stuff, he expects anyone but you

Kageyama will just quietly stand there and you don’t even notice him💀

But when he notices that you’re practicing how to set and also how you kind of include some of his habits?

MENS B L U S H I N G LIKE CRAZY LET ME TELL YOU

🗣ayo, Y/n get yo men🗣

Then he walks up to you, having a small pout on his face

You didn’t think someone would see you so you flinch when he grabs your wrists

He’s still avoiding your gaze🧑‍🦯

„You hurt yourself like that“

AJKEHFNJKW

Then he’ll teach you how you properly set

Dumbass asks you literally HOURS after teaching why you’re practicing here and what’s the reason for it

And when you explain that you want to join his team, he‘d kind of blush again

„Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve helped you.“

Kageyama also will talk to Daichi to let you join

Even if he’s awkward with all that stuff, he’s happy about playing with you

Everyone is jealous of you because when you make a mistake, he’s not rude to you AHAHAH

Yuu Nishinoya

You’re (once again) training your spikes in your own garden

You sigh when the ball wont land where its supposed to land

When you jump and hit the ball again, you’re surprised to hear a different sound

Did you hit someone?!

You’re quickly back to the ground when you see your boyfriend standing in front of you

„Babe, that was amazing!?“

He actually wanted to give you something you forget in school, but seeing you practicing some spikes? HELLO?!

„Do it again! Give me another one!“

After a pretty long time you tell him, that you’re practicing to join his team

And since Nishinoya is your official no.1 simp hes going to be your biggest supporter in volleyball now too

He really has your back and convinces you to practice with him in the gym

And when Daichi sees how you play, he invites you to join their team

Another candidate who will almost jump outta the bus to play with you

Like - he was already excited to see you on his games to cheer him on

But now you’re playing with him?

Men’s on cloud seven

Will praise you like a god when you score a point

Literally every single time

„THATS MY BABE!“

Ryuunosuke Tanaka

You’re practicing in the gym during lunch break

And you could do that because no one was there to interrupt you

Walks in on you and goes 😃😄😃

Then he‘ll cheer with no shame🥲

„👏GO Y/N👏YOURE DOING GREAT👏KEEP GOING!👏“

Tbh he almost transforms into a cheerleader

You just spin around like 👀👄👀

„RYUU WHAT ARE YOU DOING-“

Tanaka will praise you to heaven and back and eventually ask you why you’re practicing here and how long you’ve been doing that

After he knows everything, baldy will immediately go and get daichi

from now on you’ll practice with the whole team. you don’t have a choice😀

And since Tanaka is your biggest fan now, saeko will literally pop off

On y’all’s next game, she has merch, calls the two of you „volleyball couple“ and chears the loudest next to your boyfriend

You and Tanaka have a special hand check everytime one of you scores a point pls😭

Daichi is going gray with the two of you istg

[joyfulhopelox]

Right now i don’t know if i want to kiss you or shove you off this building

Part 1 | Part 2(end)

A/N: I have no words really, just i needed to get this off my chest and i wrote it so quickly that part 2 is probably going to be out by the end of the week.

genre: fluff (x100), University! au/ College!au

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox do NOT repost or reblog

Stealing is a crime please do not steal, i do not cross post anywhere else only Tumblr

Pairing: J-Hope x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Word count: 4,000 words

Warnings: i'm still bad at writing fluff but here we go (i cried a lot inside whilst writing it)

There are few times in someone’s life when they would have to rush out of the house in the middle of the night. Most times, it involved an emergency of some sorts.The usual A&E rush, the cravings rush and most important of them all, the all nighter in the library rush.

You have been debating for over an hour now if you should make a dash to the library. Your exhausted body screaming at you to just curl up into a ball and sleep- or cry, whichever came first. However your consciousness, and the fact that your anxiety was at an all time high, was telling you to just suck it up and go get your books from the library. That coupled with your approaching deadline. And to be honest you knew exactly what you would end up doing. After all, your grades could not afford to take a fall. Not worse than what they’ve dropped to now. Anymore and you would flunk the year completely.

But do you really need that book? Your brain tried it’s last card on you. You could technically just stay in, bury yourself in your blankets like the Michelin man, and write your essay that way. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes and got up grabbing your prized pen, the one that got you through your first and second year of exams, a couple of pieces of paper just in case, and your laptop. A trek to the library it is.

The spring air was doing a good job of waking you up. The light breeze, warm enough to not make you die of cold, but cold enough to cool down your tired flushed face. The 10 minutes it took to walk from your accommodation to the library was enough for you to steel yourself against an all nighter of studying.

What you had expected when you went in was anything but a packed library with students quietly studying. The noises of scratching pens and the rhythmic click-clacking of keyboards creating a mellow background noise. Some were dozing off, and you could not blame them, but holy hell could they not have done that at home? Okay, maybe you were judging, but could anyone blame you? You were desperate for a space and by the looks of the rows of heads between the shelves, there was a slim chance you would actually get a seat somewhere. If needed, you knew you could just crouch in between the shelves near the section that housed the maps, but you did not feel like inhaling dust and sporting a cramped leg for the rest of the night.

“Oh come on! This is a big library, there must be a seat somewhere” you whispered to yourself quietly, your eyes scanning the 3rd floor of the library. Aha! There. By the will of the gods, there was a seat, a lone corner at a table that was packed to the brim. You hastily made your way before anyone could spring out of nowhere and claim it, and slammed your butt down on the seat sighing in satisfaction. You’d made it. The first task done. Proud of yourself, you opened up your laptop and pulled the document you had been writing on. The bold letters at the top stating you NEEDED to get that specific book. A harsh reminder that the second task now would be even more difficult. Hunting for a book in this mammoth of a place. But what if you lost your spot? You needed your laptop to search for the book and to be honest you did not trust your laptop to not be stolen. You groaned to yourself, once again debating whether or not you needed the book

You finally decided that the book was non-negotiable and so you quickly grabbed your pen, with the promise to yourself that you would not get lost in the maze of shelves and interesting literature. Hastily writing a ‘will be back’ note, you slammed the pen down on top of the paper and rushed out of your seat.

The library atmosphere was quiet, despite the space being full of poor students who were rushing to meet a deadline or had exams coming up soon. Perusing the shelves, taking note of names that may interest you further on in your degree or even just as personal pleasure, you basked in the quietness and the dimness of the space. You loved the library at night, sure, but not when you were in a rush to finish a paper and not when exam and deadlines season pushed everyone and their mother to cram themselves in the space like sardines. Overall though, the space was dark and quiet just as you liked it.

Finally arriving at the area that was of interest to you, you stood in front of the row of shelves, a slow grin forming on your face. It was perfect, 4 rows of untouched literature. And you had all the time in the world.

Except...you didn’t. “Fuck” you cursed to yourself. You knew you did not have the time and you promised yourself you would not do this. Looking down at your watch, you let out another curse. “Fuck”. It had taken you half an hour to get here, the digital face of your watch showing 12.30am. “Oh man, I did it again” muttering to yourself, you turned your back towards the interesting titles that were calling your name and focused on the one book you actually needed.

Only to not find it on the shelf. Just your luck. “What am i supposed to do now?” dejectedly sighing you slowly made your way back to your seat. All you could think about was the missing book on the shelf.

How were you supposed to be finishing your paper now? Suddenly the quiet and calm atmosphere became gloomy and dark, this was not going very well for you. So lost in your thought you almost walked by your spot. Stopping right on time you looked to the side only to do a double take. It was not your spot anymore, the leather jacket as well as the mop of dark hair that could be seen occupying the seat was definitely not you. You double checked the area making sure you did not stray away again and somehow landed in the wrong spot but no. That was definitely the desk you had placed your note on.

It was just missing the note and seating another person now. Today was definitely not your day. The last thing you wanted to do at this time of the night, especially when you were in a hurry to finish and hand in your paper, was to be civil. But that was your seat. You refused to slouch in between the shelves and cram a seven thousand word paper tonight. You’ve done it enough times in the past for your bum and back to already be screaming at you in protest. Taking a deep breath in, you steeled yourself and approached the seat stealer.

The closer you got, the better the view of the seat stealer. Goddamn they were handsome. At least the side profile was something to enjoy looking at, but that did not change the fact that they had stolen your seat and were comfortably spread out onto the desk casually typing away at their laptop.

To top it all off, as if the scene was not enough to taunt your nerves, they were humming quietly to the beat that you could faintly hear coming from their headphones. And if you were to admit it to yourself, which you would not, they were very good at said humming.

“Uhm...excuse me” your voice cracked, having not been used for a couple of hours. You could not afford to seem meek in front of them, cute as hell and a great hummer be damned, they would not get the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. Truth be told, you hated confrontation. It was the last thing you resorted to under normal circumstances, let alone now when you were tired and stressed. Standing up straighter you tried again, “Excuse me!”

They made no move to acknowledge you or your shadow that cast now over the desk, as if you were both one and the same. Frustrated, you let out a huff and reached out to tap their shoulder. However, as if the fates had it out for you today, the humming seat stealer also came to life, moving his head towards your outstretched hand as they went to grab for their notebook and pen. That motion combined with yours caused a painful collision for the both of you. As it had not gotten a chance to change trajectory towards their shoulder, your unprepared hand bent awkwardly as it made contact with the side of the person’s head. A loud “oh fuck” chorused from the both of you, as both parties retracted as if burnt. Had you mentioned it was not your day?

“Is there a reason why I’m being assaulted at...1am on a Tuesday in the library?”. the seat stealer asked as he turned around to face you completely. He finally had a voice as well, and it was just as nice as the humming. Scrunching your nose in annoyance, you took a deep breath in prepared to tell him off. Not only was HE the one assaulting your hand but also your well deserved seat. Only to do the stereotypical double take. The mop of hair hid a very handsome face. High cheekbones and a pointed nose, your eyes trailed further down to his long neck and toned body. “Uh…” the stranger, seat stealer muttered, his hand going to scratch awkwardly at his long neck. Your brain agreed, “Uh…” you smartly copied snapping your eyes back at the face. You had clearly been caught staring judging by the smug smirk the person had on their face. Not only that but you had managed in a few minutes to smack a total stranger and display copious amounts of intelligence whilst trying your hand at a smart rebuttal to their question.

“So, now that I have your attention. Care to tell me why you are assaulting me at 1am on a Tuesday?” The tone of voice was less alarmed, more amused now. As if he clearly found your embarrassment entertaining.

“Assault? I have not assaulted you….you seat stealer!” You furiously exclaimed only to be interrupted by an equally stressed out fellow student“, Keep it down”. Only then did you become aware of the situation you are in. Three other rows of desks near the one you were currently at, and each of them seated a student who, like you, probably either had exams or deadlines. They were sleep deprived, hungry, and probably had too much caffeine running through their blood for their own good. And they were all focused on your form. To embarrass you further, the seat stealer even had the audacity to smugly smile and whisper “yeah, shhhhh.”

Getting redder by the minute, whether in mortification at being told off by the student a few rows away from you or from increasing anger at the seat stealer, you bent down, eyes narrowed “you….you...shush, and whilst you are at it, get out of my seat, you seat stealer”. You were unsure whether your shouted whisper would sound menacing enough to convey the mixture of emotions running through your veins at the moment. The stranger’s smug smile dropped instantly, a look of confusion replacing it, “seat stealer? What is that about?”

“You stole my seat!”

“I did not. The seat was free. If you passed by it, it was free and you didn’t sit down or leave your stuff on the chair; it doesn't automatically make it yours.” The stranger shrugged carefully, studying your expressions. What he saw must have really amused him because he started snickering to himself. Getting redder by the minute your rebuttal was weak, if only you’d have thought about it beforehand.

“I only have my laptop on me! And I left a note and my precious pen on the desk! A note which you have thrown out to steal my seat.” That is when it all went downhill. “you ‘strange seat stealer’!” the snickers coming from the handsome man got even more violent, to the point of you worrying about him choking- had you not been angry at him you would have asked if he was ok. Unfortunately, you were angry and nothing he did could have solved that.

The stranger abruptly stood up, so close to your face that you could see the numerous lashes that shadowed his dark eyes, amusement still plastered onto his face. He grabbed your elbow lightly, giving you a chance to break free if needed, but you were so stunned by his actions that all you could do was question how handsome his angular face was. “You’re cute, and that was a smart, if odd, alliteration you made there” He breathed, the action making a stray strand of hair blow away from your face, “but we’re making a scene”.

“Wh-” before you could process what he’d said, he trailed his hand from your elbow to your own hand and lightly gripped it with the intention of moving you away. The sudden jolt sprung your brain back to life and you tried fruitlessly to pull your hand away from his grip. Unfortunately, your brain decided to work a bit too late, as you were already past the rows of desks and shelves of books, closer to the lift lobby on that floor. “I am not making a scene, you are making a scene. Who are you to get me away from my seat not only once, but twice?!” Your feet firmly planted on the ground and finally got the stranger to stop. “I don’t know who you are” as he made a move to talk, you interrupted “and I don’t care, I saw that seat first, left a note on it to say I was going to be back and you stole it! I need the space!”

“Why?” The stranger calmly asked. His face showed no signs of anger or frustration, and it seemed like it belonged like that, serene and peaceful. And it made you wonder if anything could ever anger this man. Sure, you did not know him but you had been yelling in his face for the past minute. His demeanour and question threw you off so much so that your brain once again hiccuped.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean why do you NEED the space, it’s clear that you do not have a bag or any belongings for that matter.” He gave you a once over to emphasize his words, his calm eyes lingering a bit too long on your form for your anger to continue overriding the flustered mess that you had become. “I- I do!” You don’t know why you needed to prove yourself to him, but it was a valid question he’d asked. So, you showed him the arm he was not holding, that carried a laptop. Realising he was still holding onto your hand, the sudden thought made you suddenly hot and clammy and before he could do anything about it you pulled it out of his warm hold.

Trying to ignore the loss of warmth the contact brought you, you looked away flustered.

“This cannot be happening. Look, I sat down there first, I put a note down because I needed to go find a book for my essay and….oh god...it’s due in like…..five hours”. Not looking at him the entire time you explained your situation to him, frustration and anxiety taking over your anger you missed the worried look he threw at your red face and the slight movement he made with his hands as if to grab your fretting ones. Instead when you looked back at him after a couple of moments of silence, what you saw was him studying the space behind you closely. “Hey! Are you even listening?” You got over your anger and tried to explain, (not that you needed to) somewhat logically to make this person understand why you needed the seat back and all they did was ignore you.

“Have you found the book that you needed?” He turned his attention back to you, a small smile forming onto his face. You did not know whether it was the fact that he completely ignored what you had said earlier, the untimely smile he gave you, or the fact that your heart sped up at the said smile, but your anger went through the roof once again.

“No! Now excuse me whilst I go reclaim my seat. If you want to waste time out here just staring at the walls, that is your issue, some of us have problems they need to fix.” Making a move to turn around you halted, realising you were going the wrong way. Mumbling to yourself you brushed past the guy and headed for the lifts. Calling the lift you tapped your foot impatiently. You could find another seat somewhere else, and if not, you were desperate enough to finish the paper that you would risk your own bottom and sit in between shelves. It felt like an eternity until the lift arrived and as soon as you got in you pressed the button for the floor above you thinking you may have some luck there. Surveying the corridor you noticed that the guy had left, and surprisingly a twinge of disappointment made you sigh. You just wanted to continue the argument, nothing else.

Right before the doors to the lift could close though a running form made its way to the lift sliding in between the door with swift grace, almost barreling into you. It took you a moment to realise it was the seat stealer with his bags packed up and his laptop in his hands. “What are you doing?” you hissed as you noticed he cancelled your floor and pressed the tower one instead. “Making up for stealing your seat”, he casually replied as he observed the numbers in the lift change.

“By not letting me go find another seat?” you huffed, “you could have just vacated the seat earlier and it would have all been fine.”

“But it wouldn’t have given me an excuse to talk to you for longer than three seconds would it? I’m Hoseok by the way.” He turned and smiled at you, the dimples in his cheeks becoming prominent. Rendered speechless by his forwardness, you did not know how to respond. So you settled onto clearing your throat and willing the blush that was taking over the apples of your cheeks away. Not meeting his eyes and refusing to grant him with the same grace and give him your name, you chose instead to ask where he was planning to take you. His response was just as cryptic as his previous one, “you will see”.

The rest of the way had been spent in silence, you having given up on trying to argue with the seat stealer...Hoseok. You repeated the name in your head multiple times, it suited him. For a brief second you wondered how it would sound if you said it out loud, but you squashed that thought away very quickly. You weren’t friends or even acquaintances so there was no reason for you to do so.

Whilst your brain was running a hundred miles an hour, throughout this time Hoseok took the time to observe you. Undeniably pretty, a smile made its way onto his face as he watched the different faces that you were pulling clearly lost deep in thought. You are cute. He knew that your argument couldn’t even be called as such. To his defense, the seat he had occupied had nothing on it. It was only when he ran back to gather his things and rush back to you that he noticed the note and the pen that were lying on the floor near the foot of the desk. In his haste he had grabbed both of them hoping that if his plan did not work he would have another excuse to approach you at some point. Now, those two items were weighing down in his pocket. Your name, which you had not freely given to him but it was written on the note, burnt into his mind. Maybe he did not need them after all. He would give you your pen back of course, but he would keep the note. It would be good memorabilia in the future.

The lift came to a halt and the doors opened .This time Hoseok did not even hesitate to grab your hand and lead you to your destination as he was afraid you would run away from him. Your heart thumping again at the gesture you let yourself be led by him too astonished to say anything. Who was this human being and why was he so friendly after you’d argued for the good part of an hour. Before you could panic about the time you had lost, Hoseok stopped abruptly.

‘We’re here’ he motioned with his free hand. The one that did not occupy yours.

Realising so you tried to inconspicuously free your hand from his, the astonishment at his behaviour quickly turned into amazement at the choice of space he was presenting you with. You were not a fan of the tower as heights were a bit of a stretch for you but the cosy alcove with window seats and the view of the night time sky it provided were enough to make you forget that. “Woah, how did you find this place?”’ You mumbled and quickly went to the window observing the lights of the city behind you. For how late it was, the scenery down below was surprisingly animated. Not getting a response you turned around thinking he had abandoned you there. What you were not expecting was the bashful look he was giving you whilst rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, by mistake really, I just happened to wander here one day and yeah...thought it was quiet enough and...well, I needed to make up for the fact that you did not have a seat in the end and you said you needed to finish your paper and…yeah’

Him reminding you of the paper that was now due in less than three hours made you jump in panic. Without thinking you threw your laptop onto the little table space that the alcove offered and sat down. Typing your password you opened the document you were working on. Whilst waiting for it to load you hesitated, bit your lip and looked up.

“Are you not going to sit down? I assume you also have work to do since you are here?” Without looking, you motioned to the seat directly across from you. This could end up being the best decision of your life or your worst... but you came to the conclusion you wouldn’t know unless you took a chance. Hearing him shift his feet and the feel of his knees close to yours as he sat down was enough to make you blush again. Here it goes, now or never.

‘I’m Y/N by the way’ you looked up in time to see him smile.

‘I know’

[ordinaryschmuck]

My Stories Ranked from Worst to Best (According to you guys).

Oh my gosh, it's been a whole year since I have been writing The Owl House fan fiction! ... Oh my gosh, it's been a whole year since I've been writing The Owl House fan fiction...what I am I doing with my life. But regardless, it still has been a year. And within that time, I wrote ten different stories, each with its own varying degrees of success. So today, in celebration(?), I have ordered all that I have written from worst to best. Or, more accurately, you guys have ranked them. Because this list is based on the amount of kudos each story got, and take a shot at why some might be more popular than others. I'll also leave links to each one so you can form your own opinion. With that out of the way, here's the list:

10th place-The Nurse House (181 kudos): This is a story based off of someone else's AU where instead of Luz being a human trapped in the Boiling Isles, she's a witch trapped in the human world. And, instead of Eda being Luz's caretaker, it's Camila. I haven't continued this story since August. And because of that, it hasn't gotten as much attention recently. I do have plans to continue The Nurse House. But it's gonna have to wait until I finish my other projects. As for why it's not doing so good, it's probably either my writing ability or the fact that this fandom rejects anything that doesn't have Lumity in it (which is dumb, I know). Whatever it is, I'll find out when I eventually do work on this story again.

9th place-Baby Talk (187 kudos): This is my most recent story and is also the first one where I had others beta read it. I wanted the conclusion between Luz and Amity about having a kid to feel genuine. And how while neither is in the wrong, they're both not in the right either. But, I guess I didn't do as good of a job as I had hoped.

8th place-The Truth Comes Out (190 kudos): This story might have a similar problem with The Nurse House. It's a story about Luz coming out to her mom, and as far as I can tell, there's not much that's wrong with it. Again, maybe because there's no Lumity, or it's because of my writing ability. I don't know, and I doubt I ever will.

7th place-Same Day, Different Perspectives (230 kudos): With how popular It All Started with a Jacket was doing, I felt weird that I gave no proper introduction to these versions of Luz and Amity. So that's what I did, and, yeah, reading back, it does seem like there's a pacing issue. Still, it has parts of what I assume people like about It All Started with a Jacket, so maybe it's not too bad to check out, right? Right?

6th place-Cupid's Army (339 kudos): I won't lie. This entire story is being written just for the sake of me writing some dumb joke I have planned in the epilogue. And it might not be as worth it as I thought it was. Still, I tried my hardest to write a solid story with a few jokes and interactions between characters that haven't interacted much within canon. So while that ending joke may not be worth it, this story might be.

5th place-Get This Right (Baby) (339 kudos): This story is about Luz proposing to Amity. It has a few cute moments of domestic fluff, some jokes, and the usual jitters one has when popping a question so big. But, rereading it, there is a pacing issue as I jump through different dates almost at random, and it might be a story better off if I split it into separate chapters instead of writing it all at once.

4th place-Help from the Helpless (468 kudos): This is actually the story I'm most proud of. I wrote it for Luz Appreciation Week, and I really wanted to dive into what makes Luz such an incredible character. By exploring her seven most crucial relationships, I wanted to prove that Luz is the light of everyone's life while also giving a perspective into why acts so nice to begin with. It may not be perfect, but while it takes fourth place for everyone else, it's always going to be number one in my heart.

3rd place-Texts to Home (751 kudos): Here it is. The very first story I wrote for this fandom. Even before tons of people joined and continuously obsessed over Lumity, I felt weird that there weren't many stories focusing on Luz and her mother, which is a shame. Because to me, their relationship is really interesting. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and dived deep into Luz and Camila's bond as mother and daughter by having Luz talk about her day at "summer camp." It's the easiest thing in the world for me to write, not because I'm basically recapping episodes, but because Luz and Camila's relationship is a lot like me and my mom's. So writing their interactions is simple as thinking about how my mom and I would talk in these specific situations. I'm proud of how it turned out, and here's hoping season two will allow me the chance to continue this story in the future...whenever the hell that will be.

2nd place-Holy Matrimony (958 kudos): For a time, this was my top-rated story. It's Luz and Amity's wedding, and it is most likely everything that comes to mind when you think of it. And trust me when I say that my ego increased by tenfold after all the sweet and wonderful comments I got from this one. It did so well that I thought that I might as well add more to this story...unfortunately, I Star Wars'd it by writing an unsuccessful prequel and somehow an even worse sequel. But, hey, at least the original is still fluffy and fun!

1st place-It All Started with a Jacket (1730 kudos): Let's be real: You all knew that this was going to be number one. It is my most successful story yet, and you've all made it pretty clear why. It has chemistry between beta Luz and Amity, it's quick and easy to read, and the snark is some of my best snark yet. And the crazy thing is, I initially didn't want to make more of it. It was meant to be a one-shot as a gift for @drabbles-of-writing, but because people asked for more, I just went, "Eh, why not." And holy s**t did I not see the popularity coming! I have no idea how I still keep you all interested enough to read more, but no matter what, I'm glad that you all take the time to read each chapter. Here's hoping I don't do anything to screw it up in the future.

And that's my list. Would you rank things a little differently? Well, give them each a read (if you want) to see for yourself how you rank them. Thank you all so much for reading and loving my work, and I'll see you next time for whatever I write next.

[galvanizedfriend]

The Wolf Outtake

This is a little outtake, if you will, of The Wolf universe. It actually fits within the post-TW2 headcanons I've been writing to keep myself happy, so somewhere in S3. It's something that would never fit within the actual story because it's pure domestic fluff. lol I wrote this for @recyclingss, baby Eve's number one fan who yells at me when the child doesn't make an appearance and who’s also the biggest cheerleader this story’s ever had. 💖

This is set much later in the future, and you will notice baby Eve is actually more of toddler Eve here, but I've removed any specific context to make it so this would fit into any point of The Wolf post S2E14, I guess.

Summary: Just random KC+baby moment in The Wolf. It's fluffy, domestic, features the child and Klaus' bitter feelings for Bayou wolves. Nobody asked for it, but I figured, after the WEEK we've all had, maybe people could use some fluff? Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

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Klaus doesn't even realize it's morning already until Caroline stirs next to him, making a lazy hum deep in her throat that pulls him out of his idle reverie. He blinks his surroundings back into focus; the fluorescence that had been filtering in through the windows last time he checked has now been replaced by warm sunlight. He didn’t even notice so much time had gone by.

Caroline rolled onto her side and was quickly lulled into blissful sleep after their late-night exertions. Klaus was distracted by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest for a long time until his mind was ensnared by its usual culprits, thoughts trapped in the latest batch of torments and woes to take over the Mikaelsons’ lives. 

 When Caroline opens her eyes and offers him a slow smile, Klaus feels himself touch ground again.

 "'Morning," she slurs in that husky voice, still thick with sleep.

 "Good morning, sweetheart," he replies with a short grin.

 Caroline yawns as she stretches out her body under the thin sheet covering her modesty.

 "Did you sleep at all?" she asks, blinking sluggishly at him.

 "I'm well-rested, if that's what you're asking."

 "It's not." Caroline props herself up on one elbow to stare levelly at him. Some of that drowsiness in her eyes dissipates, disappointment panging through him for bringing her back to the harshness of reality so fast. This is why, sometimes, especially on those not-so-rare nights when he ends up not getting any sleep, he'd rather not stay in bed. It allows the reprieve that slumber offers Caroline to last a little while longer. "Is it about Elijah?" she inquires, a knowing look on her face.

 Klaus' eyes wander away from hers. "It's about everything," he states vaguely, but not untruthfully. 

 Caroline hums unconvinced. "While I know you don't need to sleep, I also know it spells nothing but trouble when you can’t. It’s never good when you spend the whole night thinking."

 "Well, not the whole night," he says with a suggestive leer. "I did spend a good portion of the time engaged in far more pleasant activities."

 She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile is more than a little satisfied when she leans into him. "You're not as smooth as you think, Mikaelson."

 "I beg to differ." Caroline chuckles, shifting under the sheets to press herself against his side, placing a kiss on his shoulder, then his neck, his jaw. Klaus snakes a hand around her back, pulling her closer still, feeling the familiar stirrings of heat in his underbelly. "Shall I prove my point?" he all but purrs.

 Caroline smirks against the corner of his mouth, her palm coming to rest on his chest. Klaus covers her hand with his, angling his face to take her mouth into a kiss. Her breasts pressing against his skin sends a tingle shooting through his body, and his other hand is already sliding down her spine, ready to guide her to straddle him, when lively conversation in the next room makes them pause.

 "Oh-oh," Caroline mutters. "I guess that means Mr. Wolfy is up early today."

 Klaus lets out a disappointed sigh.

 Eve doesn't cry so much when she wakes up anymore. Now, she either stays quietly in her crib until someone sees to her, or she starts playing with her toys. A social butterfly like her mother, she loves to engage in complex conversations with that hideous stuffed wolf Jackson gave her and her absolute favorite toy, the wooden knight Klaus carved for Rebekah when they were children.

 When he started to wake up to the sound of her talking to herself, he became worried, thinking maybe she was seeing things they weren't - which, in New Orleans, could mean a number of horrifying deals. But Caroline assured him that it is perfectly normal for young children to talk to inanimate objects, especially one who lives exclusively amongst adults.

 Apparently, it's good exercise for her imagination, or something.

 When Klaus is watching her, he will make a point to take part in her debates, always highlighting Mr. Knight's grandeur compared to Mr. Bog Scum. 

 "Sweetheart, this filthy dog here is the enemy. He wants to shroud you in flannel, carry you away to the swamp and bore you to sleep. Mr. Knight is here to save you from this stinky animal's claws."

 He's convinced one day she'll understand what he means.

 What’s most troublesome, however, is that Eve has started to attempt to climb out of her crib on her own. They always lock the other door to her bedroom when she's asleep, but the door connecting her room to Caroline's is always left unlocked for safety reasons. One of these days, Klaus thinks, their little wolf is going to catch mommy and daddy in very compromising positions. The idea mortifies him, especially because he and Caroline can get a tad carried away. They are a hybrid and a near-hybrid, after all. Too much energy and whatnot.

 "No rest for the wicked," Caroline speaks around a sigh before peeling away from him. Klaus watches her naked form with wistfulness as she climbs out of bed, his prospect of a lovely morning enterprise disappearing alongside the shape of her beautiful breasts as she shrugs on a fleece robe.

 Caroline vamps off to the en suite bathroom to freshen up a bit and then follows to Eve's room.

 "Good morning, sweet cheeks!" she greets their daughter sunnily. "Good morning to you, too, Mr. Wolfy!" Oh, for goodness' sake, Klaus curses inwardly. "And Mr. Knight!" Much better.

 Minutes later, Caroline returns with Eve, comfortable in fresh diapers, right on her heels, carrying Mr. Inconvenient and Mr. Knight.

 When she sees Klaus, she takes off towards the bed, her little legs getting more and more agile by the day. He pulls the sheets and covers up to his chest while she tries to hoist herself up. With ease, using just one hand, Klaus lifts her up and puts her sitting on his stomach.

 "Good morning, my littlest wolf," he says. "Where's my kiss?"

 His daughter leans down and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek, and then holds Mr. Fleabag close to him for a kiss as well. Klaus makes a face. "Not the dog, Eve."

 "Seriously?" Caroline says with a bored air about her. "You're antagonizing a stuffed animal now?"

 "This thing is a health hazard."

 "That thing has a cute little name, Mr. Wolfy, and your daughter loves him."

 "I refuse to treat a swamp dog as though it were a gentleman. Besides, I'm sure she loves Mr. Knight way more, don't you, love? Where's Mr. Hero?" She shouts something that sounds like Miter Nigh before pushing it onto Klaus' face. He cracks a proud smile at her. "There you go." He attacks her with tickles, and Eve bursts with sweet laughter.

 Caroline shakes her head at him, but he notices she's quite clearly biting back on a smile. "You're impossible."

 "I’m quite possible, I assure you," he replies smoothly. "Where are you going?" he asks when she starts tying her hair into a ponytail and taking clothes from her drawers.

 "Running with Marcel."

 "Oh, for goodness' sake," he protests. "Can you believe this, Eve? It's not even seven in the morning and your mother is willingly stepping out of the house to run. I sometimes fear she might be a psychopath."

 She scoffs loudly. "You would know, wouldn't you?" While she walks by him to go into the en suite, she slaps him lightly across the legs. "Stop telling my child that I'm a psycho, psycho."

 "How else am I supposed to explain this insanity? What kind of person runs for pleasure when there is an infinite array of far more gratifying activities to invest your energy into? Just now we were about to -"

 "Not in front of the small child, Klaus!" she chides from the bathroom.

 "She doesn't know what daddy is talking about, do you, love?" Eve giggles while he lifts her up above him, holding her like a flying superhero. "Blissfully clueless."

 Caroline steps back into the room, already in her exercise gear. Klaus lets out an infinitely despondent sigh. He would love nothing more than to get her out of those.

 "It's inappropriate conversation to have in front of the toddler," she remarks, putting on the smartwatch she bought recently to exercise with and measure her sleep patterns or whatever the bloody hell that is. She showed him all of this gizmo’s functionalities, swearing it’s the best thing ever invented by human minds. Klaus thinks it’s adorable, however incomprehensible, that someone with such close ties with the supernatural world would still be so impressed by technology. There’s literally nothing that cannot be sorted through magic. How is a watch that counts steps supposed to awe you once you’ve seen someone brought back from the dead? Caroline’s attachment to her humanity goes way beyond her empathy. "Besides, it was gonna be a quick activity because I'd go meet Marcel anyway,” she adds after a beat.

 "I can make you see stars in five minutes," he leers, a smirk growing on his face.

 Caroline whips her face at him with what is clearly an attempt at outrage but turns into something else when she can't hold her own smile. She can't deny him when his point was proved just the night before. Several times, in fact.

 "Shut up," she retorts simply. "Can you give her breakfast? I left chopped fruits in the fridge. You can wait about an hour after the bottle and give it to her as a little treat - not Fruit Loops."

 "She loves that thing."

 "Of course she does, it's pure sugar. That's exactly why we don't let her have it all the time. She needs to eat real fruits."

 Klaus rolls his eyes, sitting up in bed and putting the baby beside him. "Honestly, sweetheart, your mother sometimes..." 

 Caroline narrows her eyes at him. "You really love to make yourself out to be the cool parent, don't you?"

 "I don't have to make myself out to be anything, love. I am the parent who doesn't deny her the little joys of sugary treats. If that makes me cool, then you’ve only got yourself to blame." 

 "You're the parent who'll spoil her rotten, that’s what. Let's see how you'll feel when she's 16 and her boyfriend is climbing the balcony in her room in the middle of the night because she never learned how to take a no."

 "Oh, I would love for her suitors to climb her window in the middle of the night. It’ll be the last thing they do,” he says, smiling innocently at Eve.

 “You’ll be such a ray of sunshine when she starts dating.”

 “As per usual," he says with a bite of arrogance. "Hold the child so I can get decent, will you?"

 Caroline picks Eve up and keeps her looking firmly the other way while Klaus flashes out of bed and into the bathroom. He hears Caroline teasing her with “Where did daddy go?” and laughing at what he knows is Eve's extremely confused but astonished face. She thinks they're magicians. It's one of her favorite things, to watch as Klaus makes full use of his vampire speed to all but vanish right before her eyes. Modern technology has got nothing on him.

 There's something extremely heartwarming about his daughter's innocence. One day, she'll be old enough to understand why he can do the things he does. When that day comes, Klaus will cease to be a creature of magic and wonder, to become what he truly is: darkness made flesh. 

 He has never been ashamed of what he is, hardly ever had any qualms with filling the villain shoes, quite glad to do it, in fact, but he suddenly finds himself dreading the day when his child will figure out what it means to carry the Mikaelson name. When their family’s history will weigh down on her shoulders as it does on theirs.

 While making people cower in fear at the mere sound of his name has brought him an obscene amount of satisfaction and pride over the centuries, Klaus has to admit he's fascinated by the pure sparkle in his child's eyes. She's the first human being in a millennium who does not see even a fraction of monstrosity in him, no shadow, no taints, no mortal flaws. Not yet, anyway. All she sees is a funny man who makes her laugh and can hold her up with his finger, tells her stories about evil werewolves and keeps her safe and that's enough for her to adore him. Sometimes, he feels unworthy of such love. As though he's a fraud, deceiving his own daughter and taking advantage of her innocence.

 It still astonishes him that he should ever be capable of making something as pure and bright as that little girl. In a thousand years, Klaus Mikaelson has only ever brought misery and pain into this world. Eve is the first genuinely good thing he's ever done. Then, of course, she inherited all of that from her mother, who holds herself open for compassion and kindness even though she is herself in a symbiotic existence with her own beast. Caroline has taken control of her darkness in ways Klaus doesn't think he's ever seen a vampire as young as her do before. She truly is extraordinary, and every day he hopes, from the bottom of his withered heart, that Eve will turn out to be every inch Caroline's daughter more so than his.

 Klaus can still smell last night’s sex all over himself, so he takes a quick shower and puts on a pair of denims and a shirt and vamps back to the room again, just to surprise Eve. She gasps when he materializes next to her, flinching, and then starts laughing like a little maniac, reaching out to him. 

 "Remember," Caroline says as she lets Eve slide over to Klaus' arms. "Bottle, fruits. No Fruit Loops. I'll tell your other child you said hi."

 "A child who enjoys running has clearly learned nothing from me," he grumbles. “Hopefully I’ll do a better job with this one.” 

 “Start by not feeding her Fruit Loops,” Caroline remarks with a grin before she smacks a loud kiss on Eve's cheek and then one on his.

 When she’s gone, Klaus turns to look at his little wolf, watching him with those dark blues of hers as though she's studying her father. Sometimes he wonders if toddlers know more than they let on.

 "Do you want to do magic?"

 "Yes!" she practically screams, her face splitting with a wide, toothy grin.

 "Get ready, then. Are you ready?" She gives him an exaggerated nod. "Keep your eyes open. One, two..." And then he flashes out of the room with her.

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✨ Thanks for reading! :) If you’ve enjoyed this silly thing, please drop me a comment! Your reblogs are also much appreciated to help this reach more people. ✨

[thiswasinevitableid]

A fun, potentially spooky prompt for Halloween season based on something you wrote in “Amnesty Records”: “Like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you.” Something to the theme of Little Monsters from 1989? Indruck and NSFW if you please?

This is indeed NSFW, and also came to me all in one burst.

Duck pulls the Captain Planet comforter up to his chin, sighing as he lays down. He turned seven today, and has been spoiled and fussed over. Mama Newton isn’t much of an entertainer, but she knows how to throw a birthday party. 

 A scrape  of nails on the floor and the rustle of something under his bed makes him freeze. 

“Taco, that you?”

When the cat doesn't appear, he sinks further under the covers.

“Mom?”

“No”  soft voice with a bit of hiss drifts up from under the bed.

He swallows, “Who’re you?”

“My name is Indrid. I live under your bed.”

“No you don’t, you weren’t there last night.”

“How do you know?”

“Just do. So go away.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”

“He won’t believe you” the bed frame rattles, “he will tell you to be a big boy.”

The monster is right, just yesterday dad was saying how proud he was of Duck being brave at the doctor. Fine, maybe if he pretends it’s not there, it’ll go away. 

“....aren't you going to cry?”

“No.” He sets his shoulders, glares at his wall.

“....not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A sigh, “I am not very good at this.”

Duck didn’t know monsters could be sad.

“Are, uh, are you a grown-up monster?”

“No. I am young and little, like you. They would not send a grown-up monster to a child, they send them to grown-up humans.”

“Grown ups don’t have monsters under their beds.”

“They do. They may not know it, but they do.”

Indrid doesn’t say anything else and Duck falls asleep. He’s hoping the monster won’t come back, but the instant his mom turns out the light, he knows he’s there. 

“I’m n-not scared.” He whispers to the ceiling.

“Yes you are. I can taste it.”

“You can't hurt me. You ain’t real.”

 A hand closes around his ankle and he yelps. The monster laughs, then hisses when Duck kicks his wrist. 

“That was not nice.”

“Neither was grabbing me”

There’s a huff, but nothing else. The third night, Duck is ready, sticking a fake sword under the bed as soon as Indrid says something. 

The sword is yanked from his hands. 

“Why is it this color?”

“Suppose to be from the future. Ain’t you seen space rangers?”

“No. That is not a movie we have down here.”

Duck is only now starting to recognize awkward pauses, but he’s pretty sure this is one.

“Will you tell me about it?” Indrid slides the sword back onto the floor by his dresser. 

He rolls onto his back. He’s not all that tired, and Juno is sick of hearing about it.

“Okay, so there’s this guy who’s a space farmer….”

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It’s been a year and Indrid is under his bed almost every night, but Duck isn’t afraid of him anymore. Which is why he’s determined to finally get a look at him. How scary can a monster that wants to talk about T.V or trees or whatever else Duck has been up to really be?

When his mom turns off the light, Duck slips out of bed and lays on his stomach, staring into the darkness beneath it. 

Four red eyes appear, but nothing else. 

“Hey ‘Drid.”

“Hello. Why are you down here? Did you lose that action figure again?”

“Nah. Wanted to see you. Where’s the rest?”

“Hidden in shadows. I am not supposed to let humans see me. It can be dangerous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Indrid hurriedly adds, “But we can stay like this, this is okay. I think. I do not really care, I like being able to see you. You're like the baby multibear my friend has.”

“I ain't a bear.”

“No. But you are, ah, cute.”

Only Iris, Juno’s friend, has ever called him cute, and he only knows that because Juno told him. He understood he was supposed to think that was good. But he likes it much better when Indrid says it.

“What should we talk about tonight?”

Duck rests his chin on his hands, “You wanna play go fish?”

“You have a fish?” The red eyes tip to the right. 

He snickers, “No, it’s a game. Here, lemme show you…”

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“You better give that one back.” Duck grumbles as he looks down from the bed to see his new Spiderman comic missing. 

“I have given all of them back.” He can hear the smile, the one he’s glimpsed in darkness while whispering secrets under the bed; it’s wide, and there are definitely fangs, but Indrid only ever shows it when he’s happy. He never has a mean smile like the jerks at school. 

“Where’s my Black Panther?”

“...........I dropped it in the stream when I was reading.”

“‘Drid!”

“I got excited!!”

“You owe me a new one.” There’s no anger in his words. It’s just a comic book, not nearly as special as Indrid. 

“Can I give you something from here instead?”

Duck closes the new Iron Man, holds it down to the space beneath the bed, “deal.”

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He wakes up with a cry, too quiet to be a scream but with tremendous force behind it. As the nightmare fades, something rolls off the bed behind him. 

“‘D-Drid? Please, please say that was you or Taco.”

“It was me, Duck. I, I am sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep and I could taste more and more fear and I did not want you to be afraid. I, ah, I thought if I held you, it would make you feel better.”

“Thanks.” He shivers, the dream reaching out from all sides, threatening more horror if he falls asleep.

“Can, uh, can you come back up? Just for a little bit?” 

“I should not. It was already risky to do it how I did.”

Duck nods, forgetting Indrid can't see him. That's fine. He’ll be okay. He can handle-

A tree branch scrapes the window and he throws the covers over his head. 

“Put your hand over the edge of the bed.”

Duck slips his hand out from the blanket and lets it hang in the air. Fingers link around it, and then Indrid is holding it full on. It doesn’t feel like holding Janes hand when he’s helping her cross the street; it’s cold, smooth, and the nails are sharp. He sneaks a glance, sees red claws wrapped around his wrist, and feels safe enough to sleep. 

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“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, don’t know why I’m so worried about startin’ high school. I mean, it’s fucking Kepler, the high school ain’t any bigger than the middle school. “

“I always get nervous for new lessons. Even with some ability to see the future, I am worried I will do something wrong. Maybe it is that?”

“Yeh.” Duck rolls onto his side, hoping for a glimpse of a hand. He wishes he knew what Indrid looked like, wishes he was coming to school with him tomorrow. 

“I am sure you will be fine. You are intelligent, and funny, and charming.”

He smiles at the wall, “Thanks, ‘Drid.”

“Any time, Duck.”

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His roommate is snoring, which is not what he was hoping for from his first night in the dorms. Class tomorrow is going to fucking suck if he hasn't slept. 

“Congratulations on the successful move.” A familiar voice slinks up to his ear. 

“‘Drid? Holy shit, did you follow me?”

“I am your monster, I go where you go. Sort of. It is complicated. What is not complicated however, is this.” The clawed hand pops up to the edge of the bed, placing a wrapped package near Duck’s head. Stealthily removing the paper shows it’s the bright orange truffles that come from Indrid’s home. Duck loves them.  

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It is traditional in both human and monster culture to give a gift when one moves to a new home. And I like bringing you things. Are you feeling well? Excited to learn about the forest?”

“Yep. Just wish I could get to sleep.”

“One moment.”

He feels Indrid leave. Then his roommate's bed shakes and shudders, the other guy jolting awake in fright. He doesn’t look like he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. 

Duck shifts onto his side, facing the wall, and whispers down the stucco, “Thanks.”

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

A perk of his roommate getting a girlfriend is that Duck gets more nights alone. He’s soaked the pillow with sweat, and is so wrung out from cumming he hasn't wiped his hands yet. 

“Are you done?”

“JESUSFUCK”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

“Please tell me you ain’t been there this whole time.”

“No, I always leave if you are doing that. It is private.”

“Thank fuck.”

Relief is followed by disappointment, which he decides he won’t think too hard about. 

It only takes another night before he does, imagining Indrid listening to him fuck himself, whispering instructions for how Duck should do it, even touching himself at the same time, getting off on the sound of Ducks pleasure before holding his hand all night. 

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It’s fall, and the apartment he and Juno share is close to campus, cheap, and fucking freezing.

Duck knows just how to warm up. Sliding his hand down his sweats, he starts picturing Rich, but the thought of jerking it to an ex is a boner-kill waiting to happen. So, he switches to his trusty fallback, selecting a blonde, fresh-faced yet kind of punk body for the voice under the bed. 

He wants to draw it out, but fantasizing about Indrid always sets his hand flying, too many nights like this seeding a deep desire in his veins that he has to purge fast for fear of what will happen if it lingers. The monsters name drops from his lips, breathy and urgent, and he’s too caught up to care  

“Indrid, fuck, please.”

“Please what?”

Gasping, he sits up. A figure is standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with red eyes. In the dark room, he can’t make much out beside their glow and two short horns on the top of his head. Duck’s mind spins so fast it hurls out the first sentence that comes.

“‘Drid’s got four eyes, not tw-”

Another pair of eyes open just below the first.

“They are a secondary pair, so I can keep them shut and see just fine. I thought the sight of them might be too much combined with the rest of me.” Indrid murmurs.

“Th-though I ain’t allowed to see the rest.”

A shrug, “You aren’t. But I cannot bring myself to care right now. Not when you say my name like that.”

Summoning his courage, Duck locks his gaze onto Indrid’s own and slowly drags a hand up his dick, “You gonna show me the rest or not?”

A hissing growl curls around him as Indrid leans forward, clawed hands leading the crawl onto the bed. In the moonlight coming through the window, Duck sets eyes on the whole of him for the first time. 

His face is angular, sporting his wide toothy grin and framed by silver hair falling just past his chin. Past the claws, his arms are a mixture of tan skin and black and red scales, twining up his arms. The same combination is clear on his chest, visible above the neckline of the white tank-top. Flashes of color appear under the fabric, racing down Indrid’s spine, and Duck would ask what they are if Indrids face had not just come level with his. Standing up, the monster can't be much taller than him. But here, pinned against his headboard like a scientific specimen, Indrid bracketing him, he feels frighteningly small. 

“What happened to not spying on me when  I did this?” The words stick in his dry mouth. 

“It was accidental. I only stayed when I heard you call for me.”

“Wasn't callin.” Heat rises in his face. 

The grin widens, “Oh no?” A long tongue drags down Duck’s cheek, “You did not have even the smallest hint of hope I would her? That I would lay in the shadows, savoring the sounds of you, ah, taking yourself in hand?”

He’s so strange looking, every sensible part of Duck is screaming for him to run, to banish him under the bed and go back to his normal life. 

Duck inches his face forward, closing his teeth round the lobe of a pointed ear, “Maybe.”

Indrid chuckles, “Then maybe I have been hoping for the same. Maybe I have been touching myself and dreaming it was your hand instead of mine. Maybe” he brushes their noses together, “I have wanted this for as long as you have?”

“Least a year, more if I’m bein honest with myself.”

“Several years, but then again, I had the pleasure of being able to see your face. It made you all the more appealing.”

Duck reaches out a shaking hand, stroking silver hair. He means to say some platitude about Indrid being handsome because the affection in Duck’s heart means he couldn’t see him any other way. While that may be true,  a second, more surprising truth comes out in its place. 

“Thinkin if you’d let me see you, we woulda gotten here a lot sooner. “

There’s another growl and then he’s yelping out a laugh as Indrid yanks him flat on his back and unceremoniously rips his shirt off. His monster brings their lips together, tongue sliding between Duck’s lips as the human shoves both hands into Indrid’s hair. When he teases his tongue against Indrid’s, the monster whines, pressing closer and pawing his sides. 

“‘Drid” He mumbles. 

Another whine, higher and morphing into a chirr as Indrid grinds their hips together.

“‘Drid, you gotta let me breathe.”

The monster breaks the kiss, but coats his face in pecks as he catches his breath, chirping all the while. Something solid ripples beneath the fabric of his black pants where they rub against Duck’s thigh. 

“Holy fuck what, what exactly are you packin down there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Hell yeah.” 

The pants and Duck’s sweats hit the ground in quick succession, Indrid’s shirt landing atop them a moment later when Duck pulls it off to kiss along the scaled swirls of his chest. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“Guh, uh, jesus, uh, ‘Drid, what’s it doin?”

Indrid looks down to where four short tendris are unfurling to reveal a ridged cock.

“Getting ready to fuck you?”

“Uh, how exactly?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Lay back and I will demonstrate. Do not worry, as much as it pains me to focus on anything but your face, I will use my foresight to be certain nothing I do leads to trouble. 

Duck rests his head on the pillow as Indrid settles between his legs, claws pricking his thighs when the monster pushes them apart. 

“Does the whole thing goOH, oh fuck.” He wiggles his hips, “fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin weird.”

‘That is not surprising. It is one of the tendrils which, unless I'm very wrong about human anatomy, none of your previous partners had.”

“Nnnnnnfuck, fuck you’re gonna fuckin ruin me, god fuckin damn that feels nice.”

“Wonderful.” Indrid bends down, hands gliding to rest by Ducks biceps. He kisses him slowly s the tendril continues stretching him open, slick and pulsing in time with the careful movements of Indrid’s hips. 

His monster noses down his throat, drgs his tongue back up it with a purr, “You taste divine.”

“If you,re fuck gonna eat me, do me a favor and do it after I cum?” Duck teases, stroking Indrid’s shoulder blades. 

Indrid laughs, “A fair request. But I have zero interest in eating you; how could I? I would lose my best friend and my new favorite past time.” The tendril thickens, making Duck moan and throw his forearm over his eyes. 

“Fuuuck, are all monsters this fuckin sappy?”

“Only yours. And it is not as if you're not that way. I remember those love notes you asked me to help with.”

“Okay okay, we’re both big fuckin marshmallows. Now, AAHnn, are you gonna help me break this bed or not?”

Indrid pulls out with another growl, kneading Duck’s ass as he lines up his cock, “Yes, yes I am.”

“FUCK, ohfuckohfuck, yeah, fuck yeah.” Duck digs his fingers into Indrid’s back as he shoves in, “‘Drid, tht’s so fuckin goodohshit, what, what’s it doin now?” The tendrils have spread, one curling around his dick, two teasing his balls, and the fourth twining up Indrid’s shaft, meaning Duck’s toes curl with new sensations on the next thrust.

Indrid grins against his neck, “Taking care of you.”

“Ain’t that, that thoughtful.”

“All for you my sweet, goodness, you’re so warm and your ass is delightful.” His lips find Duck’s cheeks, “I’ve wanted this so long, sweetheart, so very longAHhnnnn.” His head hits the pillow as Duck scratches down his back. Not only do colors flash in his wake; spikes emerge along the ridge of his spine, flickering red to purple to black.

“Is that-”

“-okay yes very, o-okay. You can touch them, they will not hurt.”

Duck runs his finger up one. It’s feathery and smooth, rising and lowering with the undulations of Indrid’s body. Tugging it makes Indrid snap his hips with a chirring growl.

“Yes, yes do that again, more, please ohahnnnnisJunohome?

“No?”

“Good.”

The words Duck meant to say give way to shouts of pleasure as Indrid slams into him over and over, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and clawing at his sides. Duck scratches his scales and skin, strokes and pulls the feathery spines, Indrid trilling when he does. His hips quicken, Duck struggling to keep pace as the monster pins him more firmly to the bed. When he cums the tendrils tighten, sending Duck over the edge right after him. Indrid kisses him again, nipping long his lips as he whimpers the monsters name. 

As his whole body spasms and relaxes, Indrid rolls him over, panting. 

“More, I want more, again, mine, you are all mine.”

Duck looks over his shoulder, grinning fondly, “Uh huh.”

“What is so funny?”

“Nothin. Just, uh, realized there's a plant your dick reminds me of.”

Indrid blinks so intently his second set of eyes join in the expression. Then he cackles, draping himself over Duck to kiss him again. 

“You can tell me all about it after we are done with the extremely pressing matter of me fucking you again.”

“Go wild, darlin.”

This time the pillow takes the brunt of the noise, Duck grunting and moaning into it as Indrid fucks him from behind, switching between slow, gentle thrusts and grabbing Duck’s hips to drive into him hard enough to set off fireworks in his brain. He’s overstimulated to the point of tears, but his whole system floods with pleasure at the intensity of Indrid’s desire, the feeling of being so utterly used and wanted all at once. When the monster pulls out, he’s cum enough that it drips down Duck’s thigh, tingling as it goes. 

“Now” Indrid flops onto the mattress, wriggling into Duck’s waiting arms, “tell me about this plant.”

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

When Juno gets home Sunday morning, Duck is in the kitchen humming long with a playlist on his phone. 

“Holy fuck man, what happened to you.” She stares at the bitemarks and bruises all around his neck and shoulders and the scratches on his legs. 

“Had a real nice weekend.”

“You got all that from a hook-up?”

Duck shakes his head with a secretive smile, “Nah. Just had a sleepover with my new boyfriend.”

[thecrownnet]

October 3, 2020

Series four of The Crown takes on Princess Diana: exclusive pictures and interviews Charles has found a wife, Andy’s got a racy new girlfriend and Thatcher’s coming for tea... Megan Agnew gets an exclusive tour behind the scenes of the most wild and lavish series yet

Lasers. That’s what helped Emma Corrin understand Princess Diana in the latest series of The Crown. When the cameras were rolling, she imagined that lasers were pointing at her, as if she were in a spy film or a bank heist drama. It was her way of imagining hundreds of people staring right at her. Lasers helped her with the iconic Diana head tilt. She pretended she was shying away from them.

Corrin could also draw on her own trajectory as a 24-year-old actress. Before landing her part in The Crown, she was an unknown. Suddenly “there’s a huge amount of pressure”, she says.

When I visit the set at Winchester Cathedral, which is pretending to be St Paul’s, the paparazzi arrive to catch Corrin pretending to be Diana. She’s dressed in a replica of the outfit they papped at the actual royal wedding rehearsal almost 40 years ago. Every time she moves between buildings and trailers, Corrin has to be shielded with umbrellas. Life imitates art imitates life.

Almost every person Corrin has spoken to since getting the role has their own “Diana moment” — they might once have waved at her car in the street, been a pupil at a school she visited or knew someone who sat next to her at a dinner. Diana was one of the first celebrities to whom people laid claim. “Everyone has this ownership,” says Corrin. She was, and still is, the People’s Princess. But Corrin is trying not to think too much about it. Public expectation has been “overwhelming since the beginning”, she says. She wants to do Diana “proud”. “I know that’s strange and cheesy, but I feel like I know her.”

Emma Corrin as Princess Diana/ NETFLIX

The first television series of The Crown, which aired in 2016, was at the time the most expensive in history. Each series since has been estimated to have cost upwards of £50 million. The first two covered the first decade of Elizabeth II’s rule to wide acclaim, but series three — in which Her Majesty Claire Foy was succeeded by Olivia Colman — had mixed reviews. “The jewel in Netflix’s tiara has lost its shine,” said one. It was “okay”, said another.

Now, with series four’s reported £100 million budget eclipsing the Queen’s own sovereign grant last year of £82.2 million, The Crown is barrelling straight into the Eighties era of celebrity glamour and modern party politics grit. Peter Morgan, the show’s creator, is taking on two of the most controversial public figures of the past 50 years: Princess Diana and Margaret Thatcher. “The word ‘iconic’ is overused, but in the case of these two women quite justified,” Morgan says. Both have passionate fans and detractors. “Writing them was a bit of a high-wire act, but it was exhilarating.”

We meet Diana as a teenager, scampering around her huge family home in Northamptonshire. She is young and apologetic. The Prince of Wales, at that time dating her eldest sister, is rather distracted. A number of years later, Diana is leaving her relatively modest flat in Earls Court and her job as a nursery school assistant to move into Clarence House — but finds herself in solitude. Bored and lonely, 19-year-old Diana rollerskates down corridors to Duran Duran and sits all by herself in her chamber. One night, after finding out about Prince Charles’s affair with Camilla Parker Bowles, she gorges on puddings and makes herself vomit them back up.

Behind the scenes: the latest series of The Crown/ NETFLIX

*Spoilers*

It is a dark moment that Corrin wanted to get right. She listened to real-life accounts of people who had suffered from bulimia and talked with experts from the eating disorder charity Beat. Diana herself said that it was the most “discreet” way of harming herself: “Everyone in the family knew about the bulimia,” she said in recordings from the 1990s later made into a Channel 4 documentary.

“Drawing on my experience,” says Corrin, “not that I’ve experienced that kind of self-harm, but mental health in general, it can lead you down a very dark path when you’re struggling to cope, when things feel out of control. Diana very much doesn’t have the love and comfort and attention she needs from the man she loves or the family, who aren’t really acting as a family to her. There is a build-up of emotion she can’t deal with and making herself sick is a way of taking back control.”

When Josh O’Connor, who plays the Prince of Wales, first read the script for this series he thought: “Oh God, how can Charles be like that to Diana? But he feels wronged. He feels like she has an addiction to the spotlight,” he says. “I have to feel sympathy for him in that world. This is a family who have an intense inability to be emotional and he has inherited that awkwardness. In this series there’s an awful lot of Charles trying to explain himself and not being allowed to. He’s trying to say that if he can be with Camilla, then at least two of the three people can be happy. As it is, there’s three miserable people.”

The Crown works differently to other shows in that the “writers’ room” is not made up of writers but researchers, who constantly feed back to Morgan, the king of The Crown. It means that for each word eventually spoken on film, there are pages and pages of briefing notes. Annie Sulzberger, head of research, started this series by hiring a young team. “I wanted people who did not grow up believing one or the other [Diana and Thatcher],” she says. “You have to be curious enough and ignorant enough, I suppose, to write the kind of work we need.”

This series will span the Thatcher years — 1979 to 1990 — and will include the assassination of Charles’s great-uncle, Lord Mountbatten, by the IRA, Charles and Diana’s wedding, and the Falklands War. Once the team has laid out a timeline, Morgan picks out the events he wants to feature. The research team starts to hone in on each, getting increasingly “micro” in their investigations. In the making of this series, one of the team spent two weeks researching the label on a bottle of wine from which a character briefly swigs.

Dress rehearsal: Josh O’Connor and Emma Corrin act out Charles and Diana’s wedding run-through/ NETFLIX

As the show has progressed, the fact-checking work has multiplied, thanks to the tabloid journalism of the 1980s. “It’s not just about words being printed,” Sulzberger says, “but who wrote it. Diana will become very close with a journalist called Richard Kay and feed him information, and Charles’s team will do the same. So you need to start unpicking the biographies of all the writers in order to know that what you’re doing has some objectivity.”

Did the team speak to any of Diana’s family or friends? “No.” Do the producers give any material to the Palace to see beforehand? “No. We have no connection to them that would result in editorial shifts. These are real people, these are real stories and we are filling in the moments that aren’t recorded — private conversations, moments of reflection, philosophical moments.”

When I ask Morgan if it’s true that he meets high-ranking courtiers four times a year, he is keen to clear up that he doesn’t. “I have never had any discussions with anyone actively working at the Palace,” he says. “The two worlds, the royal household and The Crown, exist in a world of mutual deniability, which I’m sure is every bit as important to them as it is to us.”

Corrin, though, did speak to Patrick Jephson, Diana’s private secretary, who appears as a fictionalised character in this series. “I got a sense of her joy from him,” Corrin says. “He said she was so naturally happy. When she joined the royal family, she had come from living with flatmates in Earls Court and she was a very normal girl. Patrick said she was still full of that girlish silliness, very down to earth.”

The couple themselves at the real thing in 1981 MIKE LLOYD/SHUTTERSTOCK/REX

The executive producer Suzanne Mackie says that “particularly now” The Crown team feels a sense of responsibility “to living people, people’s children, people’s parents. Obviously what we don’t do is engage on a fact level with the royal family. We have a tacit understanding that they need distance from us and we need distance from them.”

It is a cold day in January and I am watching Charles and Diana’s wedding rehearsal in Winchester. About 75 per cent of the show is filmed on location around the world, over the course of seven months. The rest is filmed at the show’s base, Elstree Studios, just north of London.

Today in Winchester Cathedral there is a crew of 78 and a cast of almost 200. The sight is as epic as the show’s budget would suggest. Between takes, Corrin sits on the stone steps by the altar, scrolling on her iPhone with one hand and biting her fingernails on the other. Even before the clapperboard snaps shut, the resemblance between her and the princess is uncanny.

Sidonie Roberts, head buyer and assistant costume designer, has a timeline of photos of Diana covering the wall of her studio at Elstree. Roberts is devoted to the cause. She travels to Paris to buy buttons from the same shop the Queen’s dressmaker uses (it sells more than 30,000 types of button) and to Soho to rummage in basements for fabric. Last year she was in a Bangladeshi fabric shop in Brick Lane, east London, when she saw a roll of material right on the very top shelf. “It was still in its plastic, but I just knew — that’s Diana’s colour,” Roberts says. She got a ladder, climbed to the top, pulled down the fabric and bought it for £3.50 a metre. When Roberts got back to the studio at Elstree, she unrolled it and saw a stamp at the bottom: “The Lady Diana Collection, made in Japan.” Roberts did some research. It was real silk, from a collection made in the princess’s honour.

In the corner of the studio an assistant is gluing tiny pearls to Diana’s flat wedding shoes. She has been decorating them, exactly like the originals, for a day and a half. “We’ve had a long conversation about the size of those pearls,” says Roberts. David and Elizabeth Emanuel, who designed Diana’s original wedding dress, donated patterns to the show, which were used to make the new version. With its 25ft train, it took ten people to get Corrin into the dress. In the show it is seen in full, and only from behind, for no more than 15 seconds.

Paying their respects: Olivia Colman as the Queen and the rest of the royal family at the funeral of Lord Mountbatten/ NETFLIX

Corrin is masterful at inhabiting Diana’s coyness — hunching her shoulders towards her ears as she walks, the smirk, her intonation. Diana’s voice was the “polar opposite” of the royals’, says William Conacher, The Crown’s dialect coach. “She moved her jaw twice as much, so her voice was more forward, open, easier to access, and I don’t think it’s especially revelatory to suggest accessibility was her shtick,” he says. “She used a minor key that made her seem vulnerable. Despite the Queen’s and Prince Charles’s accents being ‘stiffer’ to listen to, I think it comes entirely naturally, whereas I find Diana’s voice more studied. I think she spoke to have an effect.”

What sort of research did Colman do for series four’s Queen? “Yeah, I don’t do research,” she says when we speak on the phone in the summer. “The research team on The Crown is a bit like the British Library. It’s extraordinary, and when they kick in, your computer can’t really cope with the amount of stuff they send you.” Was there something in particular that the team sent her that made things click? “No.” There is a longish silence. It seems Colman’s royal duty is waning. “They’ve got every image and film of the Queen ever made. I’ve also got three kids, so I can’t spend all my time going through all of it.”

As she wraps up a second series of The Crown — Imelda Staunton will take over for five and six — Colman knows that she would “really not like” to have the Queen’s job. “There are very few people who are forced into a job and have no choice about it,” she says. “She’s done it with dignity, for decades, bless her. It’s amazing.”

The funeral of Lord Mountbatten took place in 1979 BENTLEY ARCHIVE/POPPERFOTO/GETTY

If there were rumours of Elizabeth II being unhappy about the last series of The Crown, I can’t imagine she’ll be too chuffed about this one. Series four’s Queen is colder and more distant, and the effects of her duty on her children more obvious: Charles is heavy with melancholy, Anne feels unheard, Edward is portrayed as a spoilt bully and Andrew is dangerously arrogant.

Speaking of Andrew, there is a subtle nod towards recent events. At one point the prince discusses a young American actress he is dating. The actress had recently played a 17-year-old who must entertain several “old predators who seduce the vulnerable, helpless young Emily”. The real prince dated the actress Koo Stark in 1981, who had starred in The Awakening of Emily, which had a near-identical plot.

In series four, the pivotal relationship between the Queen and Margaret Thatcher begins well. They are respectful of one another as no-nonsense working mothers, but tensions arise — not least, over tea etiquette at Balmoral.

In preparation for her role as the Iron Lady, Gillian Anderson met Charles Moore, Thatcher’s biographer, as well as secretaries who worked with her. “The only way for me to go about sitting inside of her was to find the reason behind her actions — growing up, what she learnt from her father, how much she truly believed that she was the answer and as long as we all took the sour medicine now we’d be able to turn around this country, completely shutting her eyes to the people that she was turning out on the street.”

Anderson eventually “settled into” the body of Thatcher. “She walked very fast, always up ahead,” Anderson says. “She would power forward in front of presidents. With [Ronald] Reagan she would supposedly be alongside him, but was walking ahead. Always walking ahead of [husband] Denis, telling him to catch up.”

Thatcher’s barnet also features. In one scene she spends an asphyxiating four seconds hairspraying it in preparation for a showdown with the Queen. The hairdo took endless camera tests before Morgan was happy with it. “It essentially meant destroying it so it had an overprocessed ‘frothy’ quality,” says the hair and make-up designer Cate Hall. “To treat a wig so badly was against all of our instincts — they’re so expensive — but I’m grateful now that we went through the process with Peter, with him saying no, more, it’s not right, try again.”

Clash of the titans: Margaret Thatcher, played by Gillian Anderson, is filmed meeting the Queen, played by Olivia Colman, in a memorable scene from series four/ NETFLIX

Series five will have a whole new cast. Colman says she is “not the sort of person who keeps the shoes of a character they played 20 years ago”. But Helena Bonham Carter is going to miss Princess Margaret. “She does pop out [in everyday life],” she says. “The other day I was at some public event and there was the normal scramble of people and I just told them, ‘No, shut up.’ The finger came out, which is very her, and I said, ‘Shut up and wait. Don’t get hysterical.’ So I’ve got the bossy side of her.”

Originally Morgan said there would be two more series after this one. Then he changed his mind, describing series five as “the perfect time and place to stop”. Now there are two more again (“To do justice to the richness and complexity of the story,” he reneged). The show is creeping closer to the modern day. It is now said to be ending in the 2000s, spanning, perhaps, Charles and Diana’s divorce, the deaths of Diana, Margaret and the Queen Mother, the marriage of Charles and Camilla, and the teenage and twentysomething princes. “I want to end it close enough to present day to feel that we have completed a long journey and distant enough to feel historical,” says Morgan. “I have a specific incident in mind, but until I’ve actually written it and seen if it works, I can’t commit to discussing it.”

On set with Mackie, I mention Harry and Meghan. “Too often,” the couple posted on their Instagram page that month, “we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring.” Is it possible, I ask Mackie, for the royal family to humanise themselves while still justifying their existence as something mightier, more important, regal? “That’s where you go wrong, as a public figure, letting light in on the magic, especially as a monarch,” she replies. “You have to be an ideal. After years and years of that subjugation of self in order to put duty first, you, the essence of you, is buried somewhere. The Queen is a tiny little person inside many, many Russian dolls.”

Series four of The Crown is available on Netflix from November 15

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

Thank you for tagging me @gallavictorious ! 🧡 It’s been a bit since I had the time or energy for writing, but it was fun to go back through things for this.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

39

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,527,620

3. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Somnus Ultima (FFXV)

The Seven Soulmate Commandments (Shameless)

Royal Protocol (FFXV)

Unashamed (Shameless)

Lips Sealed (Shameless)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Ordinarily, I do. I have a bit of a backlog right now that I need to get to. I’ve always been of the mind that if someone took the time to provide feedback, I can find the time to thank them. Unfortunately, that sometimes means being…months behind now. There will be some surprised people when I get through my inbox who’ve probably already forgotten they read my work.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

World So Cold, the first story of a Captain America/Harry Potter AU trilogy that nobody asked for but I had a great time tormenting the five people who read it with.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Honor Bound, the one and only “fix-it” fic I have ever written and will ever write. This is what happens when you take a fantastic concept, grind it up over years of production team changes and company overhauls, and throw together the scraps that remain.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I’m not really a huge fan of crossovers, personally. I prefer to place characters in a different setting, like that Captain America/Harry Potter AU trilogy I mentioned. That said, my only crossover was Cabin Fever, which…may or may not count since dreams are involved.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I wouldn’t call it “hate,” but I’ve had a couple of people comment with criticism that I wouldn’t exactly count as constructive. I tend to ignore it and agree to disagree on our preferences.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. Never. Not in this life or the next. Finding ways to avoid writing it in the Shameless fandom was difficult but, fortunately, I succeeded.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, no.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though someone did offer to translate into German once. (That Captain America/Harry Potter AU just keeps coming back to haunt me today…) I declined since I would prefer to have the opportunity to check and make sure none of the meaning was lost but don’t speak German.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

On three occasions, yes. There was one I sincerely hope has been lost to the bowels of the internet, Royal Protocol with @irregularrogue , and (How to Break the) Alibi Armistice with @gallavictorious . (She’s got the link in her post!)

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

…To write? Uh. Well. I honestly don’t enjoy writing ships very much… Romance isn’t as interesting to me as other relationships, so I think I’ll cop out and just say if there’s bromance, I’m game.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I…think that I am coming to accept that In Pieces may remain unfinished. I stopped at a point where I’d actually be comfortable making that the official “ending,” but I absolutely hate that…I’ve simply lost steam. That’s what happens when you write fifteen lengthy stories in just a few months, I guess. Ordinarily, having detailed outlines helps me stay focused when I start getting tired, but the content and rapidly deteriorating coherence of Ian’s perspective has really weighed on me to the point where I took a break and never really recovered the same energy I had for it. I’m still hoping to get back to it someday, but whether that will actually happen, I can’t say. Good thing it wasn’t really getting much traffic—I’d feel even worse if I was disappointing even more people than I may already be.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do well with keeping a story flowing. I tend to write from specific perspectives and make the narrative sound like an internal monologue, which can limit the amount of information a reader receives but makes it fun to only show what the character knows. I believe I’m also pretty good at making ordinary thoughts sound a little prettier by using different words. I just don’t like reusing the same phrases over and over.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

In connection with the previous question, I can get too wordy. What I could say with one sentence can take me a paragraph to get out. Sometimes that’s called for, especially if the character is in a position where they’re rambling to themselves, but sometimes it’s unnecessary.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If I have a character speaking another language, I’ll usually put it in italics and indicate that they’re speaking another language. (…Like all the Russian in my Captain America/Harry Potter AU. I haven’t thought of that series in YEARS, yet here we are.) I don’t trust that Google translate will provide an accurate translation that would stand up to scrutiny by those who actually speak the language, and it can really detract from a story as a reader to keep scrolling to the bottom to see what the footnotes say. To each their own, but that’s my system.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter back on good ol’ MuggleNet Fanfiction. They’re all still there, too!

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

My brain…doesn’t work that way, unfortunately. I only write for fandoms that I fixate on, so there really isn’t any casual fanfiction for me. I’ve wanted to write Kingdom Hearts fanfiction for years, but it’s so compelling and complex as it is that I can never think of what I’d write for it and have therefore done very little despite it being my first and longest-standing fandom. Typically, though, the desire to write smacks me in the face when I consume something new and have that “oh…I need more…oh no” moment.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I would say it’s a tie between Somnus Ultima and the Light in the Shadows series (you guessed it—the Captain America/Harry Potter AU). While the former can be wordy and the latter is obviously one of my older works, what they have in common is that they required the most creativity. The rest of my fics tend to be canon compliant (or had better be for the endless research I put into them) and feel like playing in someone else’s sandbox. Those felt like taking multiple sandboxes, pulling them apart, and creating a brand new sandbox from the various pieces. I’m more proud of them than I can say.

I don’t really know many fic writers on a basis where I’d feel comfortable tagging them, so I send this out to just @glon-morski , @gardenerian , and @mrs-monaghansblog if you so desire! 🧡

[wickedpact]

anyways @ THE ANON THAT ASKED ABOUT THE GREG RUCKA PODCAST TRANSCRIPT: i did it

Long Ass Post under cut

(literally not kidding there’s an hour long podcast worth of transcript under this cut)

Mimi: Hi I'm Mimi Chan, welcome to culture chat, thanks for joining the conversation. Hi everyone, happy Friday. You might want to watch The Old Guard movie on Netflix before listening today.  You can also read my film review to get hyped up for viewing – which is linked here.

Greg Rucka and Leandro Fernández‘s The Old Guard comic has been adapted to film that is available for viewing on Netflix.  As the writer of both the comic and screenplay, Greg brings insights on the movie and the decisions behind some of the deviations from the comic.

For fans of the comic, have no fear, the characters and story follow pretty closely to the original.  I am fortunate that I developed a friendship with Greg during our weekly conversations and felt comfortable asking candid questions about the adaptation.

Greg shares insights about the film that prompts a discussion on how the film speaks to the crisis our country is currently in amidst the covid19 pandemic and the lack of accountability from our government.

The Old Guard, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, is available on Netflix now starring an amazing cast including: Charlize Theron and Chiwetel Ejiofor.

For those that don’t already know: Greg Rucka is a New York Times bestselling author of hundreds of comics and nearly two dozen novels. He has written for film, television, and video games. His career has included critically acclaimed and Eisner-winning work in both the creator-owned and work-for-hire arenas.

I’m loving these conversations and hope you are too.  If you are, please rate my podcast on your platform of choice.

Finally, if you would like to support with a donation, you can become a patron of the show by visiting my website or Patreon.com. For comments or suggestions, please email me at mimi@culturechatpodcast.com or reach out on social media @sifumimichan. Now on with the show! 

 [the phonecall starts]

Mimi: Hello, hello, Greg Rucka!

Greg: How you doing, Mimi?

Mimi:  Great since last week, um, I'm great also because I got to watch The Old Guard!

Greg: [BIG GASP] You did?

Mimi: I did, I did! Apparently I qualify as a real journalist to Netflix. [laughs]

Greg: [also laughs] Right, you sent the media inquiry and they said ‘sure’!

Mimi:  I said, ‘you know, what? It would be great if I actually saw this before talking to Greg, and then I could really have a conversation.’ And I was like, ‘wait, why don't I just check if I can?’ And then naturally--

Greg: Lo and behold!

Mimi: Yeah, if you ask, uh, you know,? That’s when things get done.

Greg: [finishing her 'if you ask' thought] --you shall receive, yeah.

Mimi:  That's right, that's right.

Greg:  It's interesting to me because I know that for some people... you know, they had no problem getting access...

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: And then, you know, the friends and family screenings were a freaking nightmare to arrange.

Mimi:  Oh really?

Greg: And they were like 'oh no you can only give it to only like seven people'

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: And it's like 'oh hey dudes calm down' but, you know, uh, it won't matter come midnight tonight--

Mimi: That's right!

Greg: --Everyone's gonna have access!

Mimi: That's right. so I was so excited to be able to watch it and, um, man-- I almost feel bad talking to you right now because I feel like you must be really kind of exhausted from talking about the film --as much as you love it! I just I can only imagine that it's been hour after hour after hour of inquiry, so I feel a little guilty.

Greg:  There has been a lot of talking about the movie, yes. There has not been a lot of talking about the movie with you, however, so that that does distinguish it.

 Mimi: Ah, you are too kind to me, too kind to me. So, first of all-- and you're gonna have to sit here and just take it -- I'm just so unbelievably excited for you and a huge congratulations-- I mean-- I already knew from the trailer, that it was going to be a quality and just an intense and well-written film, because you wrote it. But, upon watching it --you know, of course, you know, Oscar [her bf or husband maybe?] got to jump into my media pass. He was privy!

Greg:  I was gonna say, did you say 'you can't come in here while I watch it', you know?

Mimi: I mean, you know-- he's not gonna tell anyone. But we were, we were completely enamored. We were super super excited, and it wasn't just an action film, you know. I think beyond that, what you and Gina brought to it was just-- the strength of the characters, which is something you and I have discussed so much, and how that is what drives a story, and so beyond it being a good movie I just really feel like you were able to tell the story that you conveyed-- not only in the comic, but, you know, come to life. And so I'm, I was, I'm just so excited for you.

Greg:  And I'm delighted to hear it

Mimi: I have been reading reviews-- I wrote my own little review-- you know, since I got the access and all, I felt like obligated but, um, obviously, I'm not the only one with this opinion. You must feel-- I guess validated is the wrong word, because I think, you know where you stand with your work, but it must feel really good being your first screenplay.

Greg:  I-- wow. um. Hm. I -- so Netflix sends, um, an email like on average once a day, sometimes it's been twice a day, with sort of like 'here's the press round up'!

 Mimi: Yeah

Greg: And so I’ve woken up the last couple days to 'here are the reviews!' and I immediately delete. Right? Because I don't want to see them, um... and that's just me, right. That’s just me trying to negotiate how I feel about... reviews and my relationship with them. And, it isn't the most mature way to deal with them, I am the first to admit, um, but I-- for better or worse, I'm in a place where I feel like, well if I invest in a review --that is a positive review-- the amount of work... um... the amount of work required to do the due diligence on the reviewer and also on then, say, negative reviews is such that I just-- I'm not going-- I can't devote it.

Mimi: Right, mm-hm, yeah, it's a rabbit hole.

Greg:  So some of the reviews-- and all that said, some of this stuff is getting to me anyway, right, I mean, I got-- you know people text me and 'oh look here's a review' and it is gratifying as hell. Uh... at the end of the day --and I learned this with my novels pretty early on, is that at the end of the day, you know, a great review is wonderful, and it'll make you feel good about yourself, and maybe it'll sell more books... but at a certain point in -- and you know this-- you've experienced this... as you make the thing, and then at a certain point it goes into the world and all you can do is be like... you know, ‘are you wearing clean underwear and hopefully you'll find a safe home’ [<-- he’s talking like he's the story's mother with that statement]. You know, hopefully-- hopefully there will-- there are people out there that will embrace. So the extension of that is that... Netflix reaches something like 130 million plus households around the world. alright, Um, I'm pretty sure out of a theoretical 130 million people who might see the movie, uh, you know -- I would be surprised if, you know, 30 percent of them didn't-- you know-- couldn't stand it. I wouldn't-- I wouldn't be surprised. Right? There are going to be people who are going to see it and it's not going to be their thing.

Mimi:  Yeah

Greg: they're not-- it's not going to speak to them-- they're not going to like the choices that we made-- that they're going to be offended, or just bored or whatever. And... Can’t do anything about it!

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: All I can do is stand beside the work that we've created and say I am proud of what we did here, and I feel that we, um, we honored the source material, and --I believe -- in many ways improved on it.

Mimi: Yeah and that's something I definitely want to get into. I mean my take was obviously-- I'm a fan of your comics, so I know the comic, I know the story, and the immediate thing as a comic book quote unquote fan is like: you're comparing, right, you're comparing the story, you're comparing the characters-- and, you know, when I wrote my little review I thought about what I could say, you know, I could I could criticize action, I could talk about this... but I really feel -- and this maybe, it's because you and I have been talking for like 11 or 12 weeks straight now, it's literally like... the perfect story at a time when we need it most.  I think there's strong women, there's a diverse cast, and ass kicking to greedy individuals of the world is exactly what we need right now!

Greg: Like oh yeah, there's some lovely wish fulfillment. Yes, you know, it's like 'oh, you know, rich selfish pharma asshole? Yeah oh no you got an axe in your head! Too bad!'

Mimi: I know! I was like, ‘so Greg, so Greg!’ and-- you know, we've talked about this before like now that I'm reading your novels and your prose, it's, it's I hear you speaking to me in my head even though usually it's an audio book-- and so even watching the film Oscar and I immediately were like 'I wonder what pharma did to piss him off recently' and, you know, so it's just it's so great--

Greg: Exist!

Mimi: -- to be able to kind of watch it-- [laughing] Exist, right right.  So, um, so let's talk about--

Greg [gearing himself up]: Let's talk about insulin prices maybe, uh, you know, I mean. Doesn’t take much--

Mimi: Yeah and you and I discussed this, uh, previously as well that you do feel that at the end of the day you wrote a better story, and I already put a disclaimer at the top of this podcast that yeah--

[Both at once] total spoiler alerts big spoiler alerts!

Mimi: --but there's no way I'm not going to talk to you about it! Which is, um, you know, the ending obviously is so, uh, different than what was laid out in the comic. One is, uh, Andy is still bleeding! What the hell! [laughs] so that's the first thing. But my big takeaway and the thing I loved, and I think that was probably a decision by both you and Gina, um, was Nile really becoming kind of the heroine and finding herself in her own, but also really the one to bring everyone back to what was purposeful and what was meaningful-- finding that why, you know, and I think that was a really really powerful choice and I actually really enjoyed that choice. So I was wondering, um, you know, for you of course knowing the story already, and then going 'okay here I am going to adapt' it like at what point did you realize like-- that was something that needed to change?

Greg:  Well, um, I mean if people have been listening to interviews some of this is going to sound a little repetitious. I will say that, you know, the first draft of the screenplay I did with, uh, Matt Grimm(?) as sort of my producer in quotes, at Skydance and when we finished it-- or when I finished it-- and he had given me all the notes and I’d done revisions, and we put it in front of Don Granger(?) at Skydance-- and Granger came back with three notes. And I have dealt with a lot of Hollywood types and in the main-- most of their notes are crap. And Granger has yet to give me a note that wasn't spot dead on. And the biggest of the three was, um, you know, he said-- I really like-- it's really good-- he says ‘Nile has no impact whatsoever on this plot. Um, if you remove her the story changes, but the plot doesn't’. And I sat there and I went-- you know, bewildered -- and I sort of looked at the source material and I was like 'you are absolutely correct. You are absolutely 100% correct'. So the big thing that happened between the first draft and the second draft was that I thought of the second draft as-- this is the Nile draft-- like the first draft had been the Andy story. And then the second draft was me going, ‘okay you have the Andy story, now what is the Nile story? Really really take a look at that and figure out how to bone it up’. So and I honestly think that in large part it was the execution of that, uh, was one of the things that Gina responded to so strongly when she was given the screenplay. And then when Gina came aboard, there was just consistent work in fine-tuning not just Andy and Nile but everybody else's stories throughout the work. But it was, um, it was absolutely, you know, I mean-- it was-- it was-- it was malice of forethought. It was-- it was 'Nile has to be able to shoulder this and we need to serve her well'

Mimi: Yeah and--

Greg:  Andy was never the question, it really was: can we do right for Nile?

Mimi: Yeah no and that really definitely shines through. And I think there's that says so much about you as a writer, as a screenwriter, as a storyteller, because there are a lot of people, um, that would not be able to have that humility in writing and maybe take that feedback and criticism. because, you know, this was not like you adapted someone else's comic, like this was already your comic, you know, so they're basically giving you notes on what's already your story-- and did you find that aspect of it, uh, challenging or was it just kind of second nature-- because I know you as a person, so I know that you would take criticism well, if it is well meant and if it was constructive. but at the same time when you're in it though, and you've put so much work into those drafts--  it's not like 'oh let me just write this' and it takes five minutes, you know? You put so much into it. So how's that process for you?

Greg: You know, it was not-- it wasn't as difficult as some people seem to think it might have been. And maybe it's simply that I'm at an age where I'm able to look at my work with some degree of objectivity and I, long ago, past the point of believing that, uh... that that the work can't be improved. and I went into the process eyes very wide open, you know, I think one of the reasons Skydance was willing to let me write the drafts was because I made it clear up front that I understood... The movie was not the comic. It needed to be a different thing, and one of the things that they were adamant about were the things that I kept. Now, I had a conversation with Granger once where I said 'I'm kind of surprised nobody ever came to me and said ‘you got to get rid of that armored car sequence' and he looked at me and he said 'if that hadn't been in there I would have wanted to know why, and I would have made you put it back. That’s one of the things that we bought' for instance. So I think, you know, if there was anything to recommend me, it was that I entered the process... fully aware that this had to be a different animal.

Mimi: Yeah, yeah.

Greg: And that was liberating. And there are certain things-- for instance, you know, um, in the comic book there's the sequence in the Paris safe house on the stairs in the apartment. And when Charlize came on one of the first notes was 'we're gonna have to change that sequence'. Because in recent memory Charlize Theron has done a pretty intense action sequence--

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: --coming down the stairs in an apartment.

 Mimi: Atomic Blonde, yeah

Greg: You got it! And it was like oh that-- that's a gimme. And the result of that was the discovery of Goussainville right, which is this real town 30 minutes outside of Paris that is a ghost town; it's been a ghost town since the early 1970s.

Mimi: Wow, yeah it was a beautiful location

Greg: Yeah and-- and the place is real, and they didn't shoot in Goussainville. They shot-- they shot that at the same place where they shot the medieval castle flashbacks. 

Mimi: Okay. 

Greg: That's all the same estate.

Mimi: Nice, nice.

Greg: It's about an hour outside of London. Which gives you an idea of the magic--

Mimi: Of the magic of movies yeah! And do you feel like maybe because your experience as a comic book collaborator... like you have to collaborate. I’ve learned about this a lot more as I’ve spoken to so many creators -- like you and Michael for instance-- on Lazarus, like the way you collaborate, it's not 'I write you draw, period' like-- you-- there's a lot of back and forth, a lot of questioning of your decisions and-- ‘arguing’ may be the wrong term, but, you know, there is a lot of, uh, collaboration in terms of Michael giving you feedback and vice versa, and not feeling like 'oh you're stepping in my territory'. Do you feel like that is probably something that maybe even conditioned you for the screenwriting process?

Greg:  I think so. If -- I mean-- I don't wanna-- I don't wanna pat myself on the back over much. But I do think that I am, um, I think I'm certainly a willing collaborator if not always a good collaborator on projects. Um, that if the people I am working with... want to engage that collaboration, I tend to respond to it very well. Um, and I think that's something that absolutely was learned through comics. And I can think, you know, immediately of Gotham Central which doesn't exist if Ed Brubaker(?) and I don't learn how to work together with Michael Lark(?) very quickly and very adeptly--which to this day, is one of my favorite collaborations in comics ever. I don't think you get to work, like, 52 for DC, um, if you don't learn how to collaborate, and to collaborate well.

Mimi:  Exactly.

Greg: Which isn't always which isn't always saying 'yes and' sometimes you have to put your foot down and say 'no but'

 Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: Um, and there were plenty of arguments to be had, you know, in the process of this. Um, but most of those arguments frankly didn't occur until really late in the stage, and they were always focused to the same end. It was never-- that-- there was never an argument about, um-- there was never an argument about intent. there was always an argument about 'what's the best way to do it' right, 'what's the best way to execute' and, you know, I lost as many of those as I won, and... In the end... it seems to have all worked out, because, you know-- it is by no means a flawless motion picture. But I think it absolutely is a successful film. I think it does, it does, it tells its story well, it is moving, it is exciting, it is fun, it has a heart to it...and it leaves you with some questions! And they're not just plot questions-- that-- it leaves you with some stuff that if you are inclined to think about, there's a lot there's a lot to unpack.

Mimi: Absolutely. Yeah. I mean... the question, of course, that whole immortality-- like some people immediately will be like 'of course I’d want to be immortal' I'm like 'but would you want to watch everyone you know die?' and then 'all right would you be alone' and, you know, of course Booker's-- you know, um-- punishment, have you, of being alone quote unquote for a hundred years... I mean a hundred years, you know, you think-- that's a long time.

Greg:  Right.

Mimi: And so, uh, I do have to ask though what's up with Andy! Like --you're-- you left us in such a --in such a state! Oscar’s like 'you have to ask Greg what's going on with Andy' or do we not-- we cannot go there?

Greg: Look, the film has a very obviously-- very obvious 'in case of sequel break glass' scene. Right, I mean-- and that's how I've been referring to it.  The 'emergency sequel' button is right there. And all they have to do is go 'beep' and you have your entree into another story. Um, the question about Andy really is whether or not the immortality is the thing that matters, right. Where she is left at the end of the film, I think, asks some really cool questions about who this woman gets to be moving forward. Um, and should we be able to do a sequel, you bet your ass we're going to interrogate the hell out of that. Um, but... one of the things that I particularly like about the movie-- and I say this with the, you know, 'in case in case of sequel break glass' proviso, is that the movie doesn't need a sequel. The movie has an ending, it is a complete work. It does not say, uh, 'unless there is a second story this story doesn't have merit or value or mean anything'.

Mimi:  Right.

Greg: It stands absolutely on its own.

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg:  Um, should there be an Old Guard 2, then I suspect an Old Guard 2 is gonna be arguably contingent on making an Old Guard 3. That, once you enter into a second part you are actually saying 'we are we are talking about, uh, a collection, we're we're talking about a completion here' and that movement in that structure is in act 1 and act 2 and act 3. But as it stands now as you walk away from it-- all right, so maybe Andy's gonna die. You know, maybe the next day she crosses the street she's hit by a truck.

Mimi:  I'm gonna guess no on that!

Greg:  But maybe. Or maybe, maybe she gets to go for 50 years, you know, and die of old age. Finally.

Mimi:  Right, um, and I liked what she said, when there was that realization point by others that, you know, she was possibly losing her mortality and she said 'it doesn't matter, we go in the same way, and we come out the same way, as we always did' so nothing changes.

Greg: ‘This changes nothing’

Mimi: ‘This changes nothing’. And that really resonated with me because you kind of go ‘okay it's not about the immortality or the magic or the fighting or any of that', you know, it's like, who she is and what her purpose is has been-- you know, it was just I thought it was really--

Greg:  Well and I think thematically right, um-- hold on a second sorry-- um, I think, um, thematically that that is the crucial thing right? Um, it is an issue of -- okay at the end of the day... you can strip away the whole immortality of this movie and it's still saying the same thing. And it is saying that how you live your life matters. And the decisions you make, and the choices you make, and the ways you... choose to help people, matter. And they matter beyond an accounting you will ever be privileged to see. And the... obvious and I suppose easy, um, analogy for that right now is the act of wearing a mask in public. 

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: Your decision to wear a mask in public may save the life of somebody literally on the other side of the world.

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: And that may be the person who will cure cancer, I mean, to draw it really big.

Mimi:  Yeah yeah that's the ripple effect.

Greg:  Right yeah, we don't know the value of the life. And I’ve talked about this as well but, you know, if you use the good place, um, term of moral desert--

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg:  --if you're trying to live your life in search of moral desert then-- you-- that's a fine reason to do good things, but it is a flawed motivation. That the motivation needs to be 'we do the best we can and we try to help others because that is what we should do'. And what the film is able to say 'is these people have been around long enough that it is possible to see it'

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: But that isn't the reason you do it, right. And Andy says --and I think this is important she says that to Booker-- you do it on faith. You know, she says to Booker, 'have a little faith, Book'. Um, that she has come through all of this with this reaffirmation, that there is that... there is a worthiness to the effort itself. That we engage in the struggle for the sake of the struggle. And I can't think of anything frankly more resonant in July of 2020 than that right now. We are living in a time, in a place that is genuinely the worst it has ever been in modern history. I mean it genuinely is.

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg:  We're looking at this-- this makes the start of World War II look like a fucking picnic. The crises that the world is facing and the bad actors who are attempting to keep it going, who are actively fighting attempts to fix it, uh, is staggering. We are facing a banality of evil at this moment that is incomprehensible, if you really start to think about it. And it is on every fucking level, you know, it's it is from foreign students we're going to kick out of the country--

Mimi:  I know that's infuriating.

Greg: The only reason to do that is to kill higher education, at a time when higher education is its most vulnerable. It’s the only reason to do it.

Mimi:  Yeah, it's all insidious

Greg: That is-- that is a-- that is a direct, direct attack on the intellect of the country. It is it is an attack trying to make the United States dumber, because the stupider we get the easier we are for these fucking fascists to control. Right, we have-- we are at war with Russia, but we have the GOP and the president refusing to admit it, because they work for Russia.

Mimi:  Yeah yeah.

Greg:  Right, but we are at war with Russia right now. All right, there's no question. We have a president who is actively promoting a white supremacist agenda, because he wants a race war, because he wants a civil war, because that way he won't have to lose the election and he won't have to leave, because if he leaves he's going to get raped to death when he goes to prison.

Mimi: Tell me how you really feel, Greg!

Greg:  We are-- we are literally at a staggering crisis.

Mimi:  Yeah yeah no, and when you're explaining all of those things about the film that was exactly what I was thinking was, well and that is why it's so frustrating when something as simple as, I hear people say ‘well I don't believe I should have to wear a mask' that's why it's so infuriating-- [they talk over each other a little]

Greg: --selfish thing to do

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: It is a staggering selfishness. I-- [mocking] 'oh it's hard for me to breathe wearing a face mask' it's like, 'you're the same guy who won't wear a condom because it doesn't feel good!’ you know, and it's like-- and-- I’ve got no tolerance for that, I literally have no tolerance. You know, you can't do-- it's funny, you're asking ER people to do it 24 hours a day.

Mimi:  Exactly

Greg: They seem to manage it!

Mimi: Have you seen, uh, Jon Stewart lately, he's been doing a lot of interviews and there was this one where he's like 'yeah, I mean what happened to wearing a mask as like a sign of a medical professional? So the next time you go to surgery you're to tell your surgeon 'don't you dare wear a mask, get that liberal shit away from me, because I'm an American, I don't need your mask--'

Greg: '--I don't need you I’ll take those dreams(?)--'

Mimi: Yeah yeah

Greg: It's bullshit, it's selfish bullshit, and it's propaganda.

Mimi: Yeah right.

Greg: And it comes down from, you know, it comes down from, you know, the hissy fiddler in chief.

Mimi:  Yeah. Lack of leadership.

Greg:  Exactly.

Mimi:  I'm living in it in Florida, too. Let me tell you that that trickle down is no joke, here.

Greg:  I hate to tell you, Mimi, but [sarcastic] thank you, Florida. You know. Florida: the reason why the rest of the country can't have nice things.

Mimi:  I know! Florida wins, every time it's so embarrassing!

Greg: I would be, I would consider moving [if he lived in Florida], simply because I would be infuriated.

Mimi: I know and, you know, I thought about it in 2016, but then I thought ‘I will stay and fight!’ because of you! You’re the one that wrote at the end of Lazarus to stay and fight, and now it's your fault that I'm staying! [Both laughing] 

Greg: But see and here's the thing, right-- we can, we can rag on Florida, easy target, the fact of the matter is there are plenty of Floridians who are wearing masks and looking around and being like 'what the hell is the matter with you guys'.

Mimi: Yes! So we're trying! We’re trying!

Greg: And this is the other thing the vast number of people who are trying to do right, the people who do have empathy, the people who do care, we outnumber these guys! But the problem in being in a situation where we're all in it together is it doesn't take many people who say 'I'm not in it with you' to fuck it up for everybody else. That’s the problem. And then that is tied to the fact that those of us who do look at one another with empathy are resistant to-- for instance, taking a baseball bat to the people who are ruining for the rest of us. And this is one of the things frankly that we need to get over. We need to get to a place where it is not-- it is not tolerated. We need to get to a place where-- and the starkest example is this, you know, if you're going to pull out that racist bullshit somebody needs to hit you. There was a time when racists were scared and the reason they were scared was because they got punched in the mouth. And we stopped punching Nazis in the mouth!

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: we've stopped punching Nazis in the mouth! And we have spent way too long right now trying to reason with people when they are working from a place that defies reason. If you start your argument with 'you don't have a right to exist'. I'm not going to convince you! I have no obligation to convince you! None! None whatsoever! You look me in the eye and you say 'because you're Jewish you should die,' I get to say, 'guess what, here's the baseball bat'. That does not engage me. I will engage you about policy decisions.

Mimi:  Mm-hmm yeah.

Greg: You know, Mark is fond of saying-- I remember he said 'I missed the days when I used to be able to argue with my republican friends about policy'.

Mimi: Yeah yeah I know.

Greg: You can't do that anymore, now it's about ideology and it's not even valid ideology. It is a demonstrably invalid ideology and we know it.

Mimi: Yeah yeah yeah the moral compass has been completely destroyed.

Greg:  And we know how that happened and we know why that happened.

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: And we all know that Mark Zuckerberg is not doing anything to fix it, because Mark Zuckerberg is a chicken shit.

Mimi:  Oh you mean 'Mark Zuckerberg, comma, the known pedophile'? Who doesn't believe in checking facts?

Greg: Yeah. I'm talking about Mark Zuckerberg, who was recently seen having sex with dead goats.

Mimi: [laughs] That one, okay got it. [laughs again, pause] so, uh……... The Old Guard... I'm just kidding!

Greg: No, but, okay but to bring it back around, I think that... look, there's one of the things that I love about the movie, and I think Gina and especially Charlize's performance, carries is the melancholy of it. But to end the movie on this note that Nile brings. This grace note that is, I think, it's not a call to arms, but it is an affirmation of what we can do. It doesn't matter, it literally is-- take away their immortality, the message is the same. and I'll take that message right now, man, without hesitation.

Mimi: Yeah it's true, she made the choice to get into the fight and to, you know, back up her team, her new family basically is what it is and, um, I would be amiss if I didn't talk about my unbelievable love for Nicky! [pause] and Joe! I, oh my god, [fangirling intensifies] so I loved it as much in the comic, but seeing it on screen... There was just something very magical for me, especially, you know, the scene in the truck and Joe does his 'my boyfriend' speech. you know, I-- oh my gosh. I think I rewound and rewatched that part because it was just so beautiful and so perfectly executed and, um-- that relationship to me, is just that's what I need right now. Like I need to believe in love, and I need to see, um, the happy parts of the film.

Greg: Marwan killed that, but I gotta tell you, one of my favorite moments is the moment when they're in the lab and, uh, and Nicky being like, 'much as I like watching you sleep...' and just the warmth between them on that and, you know, 'I’ve been thinking about Malta' and 'which time in Malta' and--

 [both, very cutely] 'Ah that time in Malta!'

Greg: Yeah and I just, you know, Luca and Marwan. I look-- the casting on the movie is superlative. I just --I cannot imagine how they could have cast better. But the genuine friendship between Luca and Marwan, behind the scenes. They were, you know, they were going out and drinking at night, and Leandro has a photo of the two of them, uh, between setups outside of the soundstage at Shepparton, and they're kicking a soccer ball back and forth! They just, you know, they just loved each other as people. 

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: You know what I mean? They were tight.

 Mimi: Yeah yeah it translates! It really, it really translates on film. Like it's, you know, obviously maybe they're not like in love and like this couple, but you could see there's this chemistry, and they're friends, and there's a love for one another and, um, oh gosh it really translates. And so yeah-- I oh-- I just want to take Nicky home with me.

Greg: There is a shot-- it's one of the last--it's the last, I think, solo shot on Luca and it's the moment when he's looking at the sociogram, and he's just got his head cocked to the side... and it is... it's one of those things that you can only do in film, right, because it's --literally the camera, he is looking past the camera at this thing that the audience isn't seeing, and all it is him looking at it, and it's not like his he's doing facial calisthenics or anything.

Mimi: Right yeah

Greg: And I look at that shot and I just adore him-- and I can't even tell you-- I don't know if he was acting. It looks like acting to me!

Mimi: Right yeah Luca did such a spot on--

Greg: But that look in that moment. And me-- I just go-- like oh my god. He is so good.

Mimi: Yeah yeah.

Greg: He is so good.

Mimi: So let's talk a little bit about being on set because I know that you, uh, of course it's Stump Town but you weren't as involved in it the way that you were with this film being the screenwriter... um, you know, what was just kind of some memorable moments for you or what challenging moments even?

Greg: Challenging moments? Okay, um, this is gonna get me in trouble. I’ll tell you-- so I’ll tell you a couple of my favorite stories. Um, challenging was-- there were a lot of night shoots. And it was roughly, you know, I mean we're talking on the ninth, and I think I got back from England almost a year ago tomorrow, right. And I had been in England for about four or five weeks working on the film. And, a lot of those were night shoots on location. And that meant that you would, you know, end up going out during the day and you would have to wait until full dark in England, in summer. So there was literally shooting on the shortest night of the year, you had three and a half hours of darkness in which to shoot. And it gets a little bit of a grind.

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: You know, you're out there, and you're tired, and it is late, and it is cold, and there are only so many, you know, Americanos you can get from craft services (?) [laughs] yeah, um, and that was... that was exhausting. Um, I will tell you the best day I had.

Mimi: Yes.

Greg: Um, and this is going to piss people off, if they ever hear this and they won't so. Um, Mark Evans is this wonderful wonderful man, who was the producer on the movie. He was the guy on the ground. And when I arrived there had been, um, I mean-- so the long and the short of it is this:  I got fired from the project in January of 2019. They brought in another writer for about six to eight weeks, they fired that writer. They brought in another writer, uh, and at that point Gina was re-engaging me. And then I ended up, by the time I was back out there, I was rehired on the production. But in that interim of like two and a half, three months, there had been different scenes and variations on the script. And so when I arrived the draft was this Frankenstein thing that was some of my original stuff, and some of the stuff Gina had done, and some of the stuff the last writer had done, and then the stuff that I had been doing throughout May and into June before I got there. And we ended up, um, on this day and it was super hot, and it's the sequence when they are filming-- it's the sequence outside of Andy's mine. And it was the arrival at the mine and then it's the scene with Andy and Nile outside of the mine. And those were shot at a quarry, um, in or near... I want to say Sussex.

Mimi:  Okay.

Greg: So it's about an hour and a half outside of London and it is already scorching hot as we're headed out there. And we all know it's going to be all day, because we're going to have to, um, set everything up to then shoot dusk as dawn, right?

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: So I'm staying at this hotel and they have a driver, you know, the driver was assigned to me and I forget his name-- he was lovely, it was this great guy, and these guys are all interesting anyway, like the set drivers-- there's a whole discussion to be had about these guys. This guy is terrific, and we're driving down and we're talking, because I like talking to these guys, and, you know, I'm not going to be able to write in the car because I'll throw up everywhere. And he tells me that, oh yeah, you know, his parents moved down here and this and that, and I knew going out that day that Mark and I were going to spend the day in a trailer trying to compile everything into one collective draft. And I already wasn't looking forward to that, because I’d be like 'I'm gonna be in a goddamn trailer all day doing that. I don't wanna...’ [grumbles].  But I said to him 'wait a minute you're from around here?' he says 'oh yeah, you know.'[pause] '...you know, any good pubs?' and he says, 'uh, I do, yeah, there's a great old pub I can think of' and I say 'okay'. So we get to the location, and we are in the middle of nowhere because it's a FUCKING quarry.

Mimi:  Right.

Greg: And base camp where they put the trailers is literally a mile from where they're shooting.

 Mimi: Okay

Greg:  Right because you have to go up this hill and up these little roads to the quarry. It’s an old quarry. and I get there, and nobody's around, and one of the assistants says 'oh Mark's over there' and I go okay and I go to Mark's trailer and I knock on the door, and I open the door, and he's sitting there. And it's not glamorous. Understand these are not the movies star trailers, these are not airstream trailers, these are absolutely no frills-- like there-is-a-bathroom-and- two- tables trailers, right? There's nothing sexy about them. This is not--I know what people think of when they go oh 'you're in a [noises]'. No! This trailer-- I mean Charlize may have had a glorious trailer--

Mimi: Right, this was not Charlize's trailer

Greg: Yeah Kiki might have, you know, I don't know--

Mimi: This is more like a middle school trailer.

Greg: Exactly. The example is this is the kind of trailer that they bring to the elementary school when they've run out of classrooms, right

Mimi: Right.

Greg: Right and so Mark's sitting there. And he's-- and the thing about Mark is he's got so much energy, and he says 'Rucka!' and I say 'Mark! ...let's go to a pub.' and he goes '...can we do that?' and I say 'do we have to be here today to do this? There a reason you have to be here, in this trailer, to do this work?' and he goes '...let's go to a pub!'. So we find the driver, and I say to him-- I think his name was Steve-- and I say 'Steve, can you take us to that pub?' and he says 'yeah!'. So we get in the car-- and we drive, and it takes about 20 minutes, and about 15 minutes into the drive Evans is looking at me like 'this is not go-- I thought it was nearby'. And, you know, its like-- it is nearby, but these are little narrow roads --

Mimi: Right right.

Greg: --the driver had to orient... and we finally get to this place-- this beautiful old pub up on top of this hill--

Mimi:  Wow.

Greg:  --in Sussex, on the hottest day of the year so far, underneath these trees, at these benches-- and this is an old pub, like they closed at like two and didn't open again until five and we got there at like 1:30. So we got there, we get lunch, we get a plate, and we sit out there and we work until like 5:30-6. And about halfway into this Mark's like 'we're gonna get in so much trouble for doing this'. It’s my favorite day on this set right now. literally lo and behold by about the time five o'clock, six o'clock, rolls around he's starting to get calls from his assistant being like 'they want to know where you are'.

 Mimi: Right. [jokingly] 'We’re working offset!'

Greg: And we did! We got it all compiled and then we drove back to location and-- we were there when they did the actual shooting and everything. But that was, and will probably be to the end of my days, one of my most favorite film experiences, which is the part of making the movie where we got to go 'we get to go do this now'

Mimi:  Yeah yeah.

Greg: You know, and that was, it was a treat. I loved it.

Mimi: I love that, yeah. And it's so great because you needed some creativity. Like a trailer just doesn't do it, so I thought that made it a lot of sense. How much fun, though, because I often hear that when people are filming in different places, you don't get to explore in the way that you would like to. So it's nice that you kind of were able to take a mini break. A one day break.

Greg: But it really was --and I do kind of mean it-- was a present.

Mimi: Yeah.

Greg: I have photos from time on set, and there's a shot... the house that was used for Merrick’s apartment, is called the jura house, and it's apparently owned by some Russian oligarch, and it's a very shi-shi, fancy, you know, 800-architectural-awards house.

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: And I have a photo of Evans and me-- I think Leo took it --and we're literally sitting on the floor, in the basement, which is where all the monitors were set up, as they're filming upstairs... backs to the wall, each of us with our laptops on our knees, each of us using these, uh, rifle bags that have been doubled and tripled over as pillows. And that's the experience on The Old Guard. It’s literally [?? I’m not sure what he said, ‘doing our best’ maybe ??] and, um, yeah, so yeah.  It is a remarkable-- and you know this, you made a movie-- it's a remarkable amount of hard work. You come out of the experience going-- and I’ve said this before-- once you are involved in the making of a movie, you can never walk away going 'god how do they manage to make such a bad movie?' The question is always 'how did they manage to make a movie?'

Mimi:  Yeah.

Greg: The mere act of forcing this kind of bizarre storytelling into creation... is it's staggering. It defies any realm of logic... the precision required, the commitment required, the attention required, to create something that's going to exist on somebody's eyeballs for a second or two or three. Shot by shot. You know, um, it's insane.

Mimi:  Yeah it is, yeah and there's so many moving parts, you know, and you're such a huge part of this one and so I'm so excited to see how well it came together. and it-- from what you could see, because you were saying 'oh, you know, everybody was close on set they were playing soccer and all these things' and it's like, you can see that it's a film that has, you know, cohesion. like it's very well put together, like you could feel that everything was in its place, like I could see you got along with Gina, I could see that, you know, you could see each part was where it needed to be, because seeing sets that fall apart-- and you-- it isn't a question of how movies fall apart and they don't, you know, go from one process to another, there's no, um, you know, synergy between the people working. But it really really did come together and I'm super super excited for you, and excited for the sequel! My my only thing--

Greg: Potential! [sequel]

Mimi: Potential! Oh I think I think that, uh, viewers are going to want more. like I said, it's a film that we do need right now and I think it's a refreshing, uh, type of thing where we can kind of just take a moment away and be lost in a film. I think that's a gift, because I find that that doesn't happen as often as I'd like it to these days! Uh, but, um, but yeah the casting, everything was beautiful, and I'm so happy for you, as a writer but also as a filmmaker now. My only quarry, my only disappointment is I was not around to, um --especially since there could be a sequel-- to at least audition for Qynh because I know there's some awesome sword work that could be coming in the future! And I'm so like-- but I'm super excited because Veronica, you know, the little we did get to see of her, she did a fabulous job! But I was like 'man I would have liked to throw my hat in for that one'. [laughs]

Greg: Gotta talk to your agent!

Mimi:  I know!

Greg: I didn't have anything to do with casting!

Mimi: I know, I know, I know. No, but it's super exciting to see kind of that how it all comes together. Especially reading it, right, because of course like I said, I've read the rest of the comic. I know the new one just dropped!

Greg:  Yeah, issue five will be out next week.

Mimi: That's very exciting! So yes so, uh, listeners go ahead and grab that! Get the whole thing though, so you could see it from beginning to end! Because, uh, it does kind of complement seeing the movie, you know, it complements it. You get that backstory, you kind of get the feeling for the characters in a different way, and like you said they're different mediums. Um, but both really amazing stories, and a lot of fun to, um, to be a part of. And to experience so super exciting [they both make weird excited noises] so, uh, hopefully we'll talk again next week, I know you have been going crazy with all these interviews but, um, everybody go and watch The Old Guard right now! Because it is available, you can turn on your Netflix and you don't have to wait, it's right there!

Greg: Right there!

Mimi: Right there for you!

Greg: In fact you won't even have to search for it!

Mimi: No, it's gonna be number one!

Greg: It's gonna shove it in your face!

Mimi: Yeah it'll be recommended for you, and, um, I also, uh, you know, as a filmmaker. I know that you guys don't need as big of a push because it's Netflix and all but, you know, give it a little rating! Go on to imdb and give it some love. Um, because why not? [laughs] Alright Greg, I don't want to take up much more of your time, I think you need to unwind and enjoy this. Congratulations on your film and, uh, we're super excited for it!

Greg: Thank you Mimi!

Mimi: That's all for today's episode! Thanks for listening to culture chat and hope you enjoyed the conversation.

[charmingpplincardigans]

February Kitchen Sink Check In

Whooboy. Did anyone else lose a whole month of their life there? Or was it just me and my friend on twitter? Long story short, I scratched out the February over February's goals, wrote in March, and am just carrying on as if February didn't exist. Self-preservation, babey!

BODY

Working out:

Food:

I am really struggling with the soda thing. I am down to only two a day now, but I should be down to 6 a week by now. I'm trying to get myself down to one a day this month like I should have last month. I did it today!! A start!! I did manage it for seven days last month, so just trying to beat that.

Recipes made in February:

Spinach Turkey Burgers w/ Parmesan Green Beans

Lentil Shepherds Pie

I loved that Shepherds Pie and I'm absolutely gonna make it again.

Doctor Things:

Back to giving myself B12 shots every two weeks. Sleep has been...fine? Still waking up in the middle of the night and taking off the CPAP mask when I do it, but I've been pretty reliably in bed by 10 and asleep by 11 or so, which is making mornings easier. Part of that might be the Zoloft, which will come up again later. I do still hate the CPAP. But hey. We'll do this until it gets better. Or something.

MIND

Therapy:

We started EMDR in earnest last session and it's interesting. I think that if we'd tried this before the pandemic I absolutely would have failed at it, just because I struggle with staying inside myself and not thinking about what I look like from the outside, and from the outside EMDR looks silly and also I feel silly for needing it (I know). But! I think I like it and I'm interested in seeing where we go with it. I can absolutely see what the benefits might be and how we might get there, which is a good mind set to be in I think.

I also started Zoloft as I mentioned above. As of right now I've only been on a low dose for a month, but I'm about to step it up and I do think it's already helping. I realized about a week and a half in that I hadn't spent a whole night unable to sleep because of crippling anxiety about someone breaking into my apartment and raping and murdering me for a while, and I'm proud to report that has continued. My dreams also feel tempered (still weird, but less vicious and angry at myself), my chest pain has been greatly reduced, and day to day I just...feel okay. It's crazy to me that people can just feel okay. I almost don't know what to do with this. (Don't worry though! Work is still K I L L I N G M E, so I'm not likely to get too okay.)

Writing:

I uh...had goals and did not meet them. I wrote a total of seven days in February and only one of them was actually productive. This month I'm working on carving out and protecting my creative time. I know daily practices have really worked for some of my friends. Thinking about managing something every day stresses me out, but perhaps if I can give myself some leeway to fail then trying won't feel so self-defeating.

Future Plans:

I think I'm going to end up being here for another year after the lease is up, which frustrates me, but I've been working so hard on paying down my debt, I don't want to go into it again working this out. But I am impatient and I miss a whole passel of people I love up there, so maybe I'll work it out.

Work is, *Cecil Palmer groan*. I do feel like my team is going to support me. Or try to at least, but I am almost certain now this is not where I should be. What do I do about it? Wait a year until I've moved and then figure it out I guess. Which is a deeply unsatisfying answer, but it's where we are right now.

MONEY

Eating Out:

I'm still eating out too much, but I am ordering out (as in, having it delivered through DoorDash) less. I did it fewer than half of the days last month. Which is good because it sometimes costs twice as much as just going to pick it up myself. Perhaps when I am all vaccinated I'll feel more comfortable going into more places to pick up take out orders and can give up ordering out all together.

Savings:

No news is good news, I suppose. I haven't done my taxes so I haven't opened the account yet. I uh, really should do that this weekend.

Budget:

I haven't actually made one yet and I REALLY need to sit down and do that. Maybe I'll make Sunday a money day and try to make some headway on everything.

And that was February. I spent most of it clawing myself out of my bad brain and just plain surviving. But surviving is good and necessary too.

[painandpleasure86]

Pull yourself together

A/N: Hi people! I was missing to post a fic here. It was based in an own experience about my own capability to write fics.

You can also find this fic in AO3, here.

Summary: John don't feel capable to write songs. Freddie tries to encourage him to continue writing.

Pairing: this is a Gen fic! No pairing.

Warning: Angst, some swearing.

Word count: 1359

Permanent taglist: @warriorteam1924 @toomuchlove-willkillyou @deakysgurl (if you want to be in the taglist, just tell me in the comments or send me an ask :3)

He did not feel he was capable enough. But, on the outside, he was determined, unwavering, impenetrable. Many times he wanted to start writing, because he was mentalized and determined, but nothing came to his mind. He felt the demand that he not only had to write something, but also something that could be adjusted to the standards of the band. He saw Brian and Freddie writing without any problems, and he was facing a blank sheet of paper, with nothing "good" in mind. Or maybe he thought it wasn't a good thing, because, thanks to the demands, he set the bar too high and was too self-critical, too hard on himself.

 At that time they were preparing News of the World.

 While in the recording studio, the conversation came out.

 -Hey John, we're waiting for your contribution for the album. How are you doing? - Brian asks -I'm on it, Bri, you know how I am with that, he -laughs falsely.

 -If you need help, tell us- adds Freddie.

 -I can handle it myself, don't worry. Thanks for offering, though, guys.

 Neither Freddie nor Roger were too convinced.

 -Hey, and nobody asks me? -says Roger to ease the tension he felt in his friend.

 -Because you told us you had Sheer Heart Attack- said Brian.

  -I have one more surprise- he pointed out, winking

 -Are you going to make a song about your cat, Roger? -asks Freddie, playing along.

 -The cat lover is another one -answers Roger, pointing to Freddie.

 -Ah, you got me, darling, I don't know how you guessed it! -adds Freddie.

 John smiles. Goal accomplished for Freddie and Roger.

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

 That night, when he was able to be alone in his room, he began to cry and to rant aloud

 -Why the fuck don't things work out for me? I don't really know why I try to write songs, if they're not even that good... While Brian and Freddie's songs are singles, two of the three I've written are a fiasco. I'm not good at writing, it's really better that they don't have "my contribution". Oh Brian, saying it so lightly... HA! If you spend all your fucking time reading literature and things come to mind. It's a joke that someone with more capabilities has songs next to my shitty stuff. I'm sick of all these requirements. I'm tired of the responsibility. I hate myself for agreeing to start writing songs in the first place... ha, things come naturally to Freddie. I just barely have three songs, why can't we fucking accept that I'm not good at songwriting? I don't have the lyrical skills. I can write music, but lyrics? Ah no, that has to be left to the other two. At least I'm not the only one who "contributes just a little", but I don't have to feel comfortable or proud of that either... I'm fed up with this - he shouted, throwing away things that were within his reach and throwing himself into his bed to continue crying for a few moments.

 Minutes later, he wipes away his tears and grabs a pencil and paper that were on his bedside table. He has something to write on.

 Pull yourself together, because you know you should do better.

 What he wrote was more of a self-message than anything else. That phrase came into his head and he had to turn it over so he wouldn't forget. "Maybe I'll think of something related to that later". When he put the notebook back in its place, he heard a knock on the door. It was Freddie.

 -Now can I come in, John?

 -Yes, I'll let you in. John opens the door to his room and lets the singer in. Then they both sit at the foot of the bed, side by side.

 -I heard everything, honey.

  -Ah? -asked John, pretending not to notice.

  -All you said.

  -I'm sorry, I...

 -Don't apologize, honey. These things happen. I understand your frustration.

 -Ah Fred, don't pretend to understand me.

  -Hey, I'm not always inspired.

 -Following that criteria, i'll never be inspired.

 -Don't say such a stupid thing, John- said Freddie.

  - You've already proved that you can write great hits.

 -Only one of my songs came out as a single, I don't know what you're talking about Freddie. It's easy to talk when you write Bohemian Rhapsody. My songs are shit besides to that song.

 -John, how many times have we talked about it? You're just slower, but that doesn't mean you're bad.

 -What if I am?

 -You really aren't. I see great potential. You just have to stop comparing yourself to me and Brian.

 -It's impossible to tell the truth... you two write masterpieces... All people love your songs.

  -People love You're my best friend...

 -Yes, because it's the only good thing I've written so far.

 -You are good John, I don't know how to tell you anymore.

 -Stop saying it then and assume that you were wrong about me.

 -Okay, I think you're still hysterical. I'll leave you to rest.

 Freddie leaves and John remains pensive. More phrases have come to his mind, he writes them down.

     You said me six and you passed past seven. I believed you, bent on my knees for you. Oh, I trusted you, but you let me down.  

 "They don't make sense, but well... inspo it's inspo" he thought.

 After a much-needed bath to relax body and mind, he went to bed.

 -Perhaps Freddie is right. What if I'm writing the band's next hit? Now, more calmly, he was convincing himself of Freddie's words. A part of his mind didn't like this at all and wanted to boycott him with pessimistic thoughts.

 -Ah... enough! No. I'm not going to let you pass. Get the fuck out. Let me sleep in peace. -he said aloud with his eyes closed.

 To sleep in peace, he took a deep breath and imagined himself far from his hotel room, being anywhere, but happy and free. When he least expected it, he fell asleep.

 The next day he woke up much more relaxed. Getting dressed, thinking about the dream he had, a few phrases came to his mind

     He spends his evenings alone in his hotel room, wishing he was miles and miles away...

 Read the note  book and see that Freddie was right. He smiled.

 -----------------------

 Back in the studio for another day of recording, John enters with his notebook and pencil.

 -Looks like someone came ready to write today- Brian said, smiling.

 John approaches his colleagues and shows them his notebook from afar.

 -I've been ready since last night- he walks up to Freddie and hugs him.

 -With you, always- Freddie said in his ear, tapping him on the shoulder.

 Freddie left the embrace, but Roger takes advantage and hug John.

 -I knew Freddie would help you- he said in John's ear.

 -W-what?

 -You're our brother Deaky, how could we not know?

 Brian kept looking at the scene trying to understand what was happening, until he finally got it. "Now I understand everything".

 Roger and John left the embrace, because John wanted to say something to Brian.

 -I think I have not one contribution, but two- John said.

 -But that's great-answered Brian, patting him on the shoulder-. This is the first time you've brought two songs!

 -We have to celebrate- says Roger, winking an eye.

 -It's 10 am, wait a little for the alcohol- says Freddie.

 -But look who's talking, Mr. Champagne

 -Without any shame, darling.

 John and Brian laughed at the scene.

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

 Months later, one of those songs would be a single for which they would record a video clip. Preparing for this, John started to think "Freddie was right, I have the capacity and my songs matter too... Look if they matter that one will have a video clip... Although, I don't know if the chosen set was the best choice. It was winter and they were outside, his hands were beginning to feel it; but he was happy that they were recording the video clip. Also because, from that day on, they were representing themselves. They had spread their wings and flown away from John Reid.

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Thanks for reading this. If you enjoyed it, please reblog this. It counts A LOT!!!

Cheers, Lily