#i hope this reads like one of those 'hey don't cry' recipe posts

[bitchboy-official]

hey, don't cry, drink so much water then vibrator fucking directly into your G-spot and press heel of your other hand into your tummy right on your bladder, ok? actually yeah you might cry but do it anyway

[danpuff-ao3]

1, 8, 19, 28.

Hey Anon! Thanks for the asks!

1.) Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Oh boy, here we go! Much angst. Complicated, messy characters & dynamics. Very intense people being very passionately (toxically) in love. Someone is a virgin. Ruthless highlighting of imperfections. Overly poetic eye descriptors. A recipe for pure self-indulgence!

8.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh no. Dialogue is the worst!! Probably my proudest moments are the dirtiest or the harshest, no in between. Though I will say a lot of my proudest writing moments period were from Contempt. Dialogue included!

"A great love story, is it not? The gold digging whore and the cock hungry slut live happily ever after."

"What do you know about happiness? What do you know about love?"

"You presume --"

"You were obsessed with my mother! You're bitter she married my dad, just like you're bitter I'm marrying Ginny."

This is just a piece of it, but that whole back and forth between Harry and Snape is so fun. I tried to keep them both in character, neither really backing down. It begins with Snape lashing out, Harry tries to get his bearings, Snape twisting every new topic back around to wound Harry with it, Harry not putting up with any of it. It has the angst! It has the rudeness! It has my boys butting heads! What more could a gal want?

19.) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

I do! She is a fickle creature. I've named her Renata. (Listen, my car has a name. My phone has a name. My laptop has a name. Why wouldn't my muse have a name?)

28.) Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oh yay my favorite one!! Let me see. I was talking to ripeteeth last week about beautiful prose, and how I like to pluck random lines and tuck them in my pocket to think about all day long; and how I love the taste of the words in my mouth, repeating them over and over. I'm such a sucker for beautiful strings of words, so my favorite writers are those whose works I read and I walk away with pockets full of gold nuggets.

@perverse-idyll, whose works I've loved the longest! I've returned to her works time and again for over a decade! She writes Snarry so perfectly in my eyes; crafts the characters so true to form, and their dynamic is just as dark and explosive as I love it. Everything that drew me to Harry and to Snape and to them as a couple, PI provides. I could cry at the perfection of it. And I've honestly not been able to stop thinking about the latest chapter of The Afterlight since I read it! I don't have words enough to express my love of PI's work, so I'm just gonna wave her own words in your face in the hopes that you might understand:

Sitting absolutely still, consulting instincts or morals or who the fuck knows, Snape levelled a long, narrow look across the table. Long and narrow like so much else about him, with the smoulder of a low flame just beginning to lick at spilled fuel. It could have been contempt or calculation, or the effects of drinking whisky that literally burned.

It could be that Harry had just lit a match. (The Afterlight, chapter 3)

@ripeteeth who is probably most definitely a genius. I will blind rec teeth to you. "Oh teeth posted a new fic I've not read and know nothing about? You should totally read it."; "Oh, teeth posted a fic for a fandom I've never even heard of? Cool. Count me in." They have such a fascinating way of looking at things, and they craft stories in such a unique way. It's brilliant and different and absolutely stunning. They portray people and life in that merciless way I love; like they dug through the gutter; like they're elbows deep, digging into the gut; mud and blood and smearing it on the wall. All of the things no one else would think to see worth or beauty in, and they create a masterpiece with it. Blow me away, teeth!

“Why would I stay, Potter?” Why would he? Harry wonders. Snape had clearly always hated teaching, had hated children, hated their open faces, their sticky fingers. If there is no one to run from, if there are no arms to run to, then what purpose does he have to stay? Except. Except that it guts Harry, just a little bit, to think about Hogwarts without the sallow, miserable Potions Master. Somehow, and he is not quite sure how, it is not Hogwarts without Snape. The prospect of the castle left without the great black bat seems full of echoes and silence. It is like the loneliness of aging, sick with memory, glutted on regret. You can’t leave. (Strange Pilgrims)

@liladiurne whose work has the timeless quality of the classics. So much thought and care goes into everything that she does! She has so many interesting ideas; new ways to paint the world, new ways of looking at the characters. She is an explorer and an inventor both! And she tells of love so beautifully; sweet agony dressed in silk and pearls.

And so, it was clear to me, from the moment I felt his hand upon my back, that this touch was meaningful. Harry was not one for unnecessary or superfluous contact. He touched things because he wanted to, because he was unafraid of them and wanted to know their secrets. He touched what he deemed important. (Certain Dark Things, Chapter 2)

40 Questions - Meme For Fic Writers

already answered: 14, 2, 13, 38, 1, 8, 19, 28

[beckymotivates]

Remembering Mikey Post!

I vividly remember waiting in line for a coffee in the lobby of the Hyatt Regency San Francisco Airport during the July 2004 National Little People of America Conference. I felt the most positive energy coming from a table to the right of me. Immediately after I purchased my coffee, I went over to the table and introduced myself to Mikey Post. He was so kind and full of energy. Before I knew it, we were running around the lobby “borrowing” our other new friend’s flip flops. Unfortunately, one flip flop was lost and we only returned one to the owner. However, Mikey never stayed in trouble for too long. He quickly earned forgiveness with his contagious smile and incredible persona. San Francisco happened to be the 2nd convention that Mikey and I attended. I was 20 and he was 22. The prior year in Boston was our first, even though we didn’t meet each other that year. A year out of touch went by but we crossed paths again at the 2005 convention in Orlando.

Shortly after the Orlando convention, Mikey moved from Atlanta to Los Angeles to pursue his acting career. Less than a year later, we started talking about my ambitions, which included moving from Boston to Los Angeles, and my past internship experiences behind the scenes in the entertainment industry. Before I was about to finish college, I decided to visit some friends in LA. Mikey was already living there. While we were in the car together one day, we spoke about how we wanted to plan to be roommates sometime in the future. He later convinced his talent manager at the time to offer me a job to support her work. That led to my move to LA in August 2006. Since Mikey already had a roommate at the time, I started off living with friends who were a couple. About a year later, I convinced Mikey to move to the first floor of the apartment building where we were living. Six months after that, my roommates moved out and Mikey moved upstairs into the two-bedroom apartment with me. We were roommates, for all but six months of the next four and a half years.

Part of being a little person is that you have the opportunity to meet other little people along the path of life who begin to have a strong influence on your life. Of all of the little people I’ve ever met, Mikey had the strongest influence on my life. He was the best roommate and best friend.

Mikey and I always joked around but sometimes my gullible self would take things a little too seriously. I recently came across an old e-mail that Mikey sent me. This was after I had spent some time visiting with my family in Boston. He wrote: “Hey Bee (his nickname for me), just wanted to send you an email and let you know how much I really did miss you this weekend. I know I joke around a lot and act kinda mean to you, but you really mean a lot to me. Like Papa said, "you are one of the best friends I've ever had." I think he is very right. You are someone who I am never uncomfortable around and we never have any sort of awkward silence. I really did miss you and our friendship while you were gone. I love you very much. Have a great day.”

Mikey and I had a lot in common. We both liked to have fun and we had a strong interest in changing perceptions of little people both in front of and behind the scenes in the entertainment industry. We built relationships that ultimately helped influence some of that change. Whenever I came across a script that I knew Mikey could have an acting role in, I read it to make sure that it was an appropriate positive role before sending it to him. I never wanted to waste his time. Although some offers were lucrative, Mikey never took a role that would intentionally harm the perceptions of little people.

Mikey also served as my cheerleader and my rock after I would come home from any stressful day at work. Wherever there was a need, he helped me and I helped him. We cooked our favorite recipes, which included and may have been limited to vegetarian stuffed peppers and vegetable chili, together. We loved going out to restaurnts and splitting either salmon, sushi rolls or shrimp stir fry. He helped me realize that the road to success is a journey and we should celebrate every milestone along the way.

In May 2012, while we were living in West Hollywood together and his acting success was rising, Mikey started telling me about some weird symptoms he was experiencing. This ultimately led to his ALS diagnosis. Regardless, I never heard him say a negative thing, even though he was in a lot of pain. Soon after Mikey’s symptoms worsened and I left my job at the time, we both moved back to our hometowns. Mikey to Atlanta and me to Boston.

As Mikey’s ALS progressed, we remained in close contact, through whichever method of communication worked for him at each in moment time. We had fun using the costume features on Google chat. Whenever my schedule would allow, the Post family welcomed me into their home, with open arms. A group of us stayed there while gearing up Atlanta Walk to Defeat ALS, immediately following the 2015 success of the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Our team raised over $50,000 that year. New Years Eve with some of my other favorites at the Post house was always filled with snacks and fun too!

I was fortunate to recently spend a week with Mikey, while ringing in the new year of 2018. Although, he could no longer speak, he sent me a Facebook message at the end of the trip. Mikey wrote, “It's been nice just having you here, so if you ever need an office, come back anytime!” That was so sweet because I had started a new job that allows me to work remotely. His hospitality was so warm and inviting. We exchanged a few messages after that but that trip and message will always stand out.

For those of us who are able, let’s continue to walk to defeat ALS and contribute what we can to ALS research towards Mikey’s goal of finding a cure for this dreaded disease, so that others will someday not have to endure what he had. Mikey had hoped to see that in his lifetime. Let’s continue to work towards making that that happen as soon as possible!

Let us all honor Mikey’s life by approaching any adversity we should face in the future with the same grace, courage and positive attitude with which he did.

I wanted to share a poem that was shared on Facebook and seems to sum up Mikey’s feelings for all of us.

DON’T CRY FOR ME

Don't cry for me. I will be okay.

Heaven is my home now, and this is where I'll stay.

Don't cry for me. I'm where I belong.

I want you to be happy and try to stay strong.

Don't cry for me. It was just my time,

but I will see you someday on the other side.

Don't cry for me. I am not alone.

The angels are with me to welcome me home.

Don't cry for me, for I have no fear.

All my pain is gone, and Jesus took my tears.

Don't cry for me. This is not the end.

I'll be waiting here for you when we meet again.

Even though we lost Mikey way too soon, he lived more in his 35 years than some people live in 100. You’ll always have a place in my heart, Mikey Post.

Thank You!