#real talk with karla

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of the Fallen Part 1

The thrilling sequel to Icarus and Around the World is finally here!

This universe has decided though, completely without prompting to do a little Christmas story set in this verse. So.... yeah!

Enjoy!

Summary: On the ten anniversary of The Fallen's eponymous debut album, the band decides to do an unmasking. This is the interview with Variety journalist Karla Lopez. SEQUEL TO ICARUS AND AROUND THE WORLD READ THEM FIRST!!!

~

Exclusive Interview with The Fallen Behind the Veil by Variety reporter Karla Lopez.

Karla Lopez: I am deeply honored to be chosen to do this, you have no idea.

Astraeus chuckles: Oh I think we have an idea, yeah.

KL: Why did you decide to do a reveal now? You have all been pretty vocal about not wanting to break persona.

They all look around at each other like they trying to decide who’s going to answer that. Finally Abbadon speaks.

Abbadon: Back when we were first asked about it, Asmodeus said that maybe if we were still here ten years on. This marks the 10th anniversary of our first album, so I guess it just felt right.

KL: Fair enough. There were talks about this being live so you could answer questions from a chat on air. But all of you nixed that. Can you tell me why?

Asmodeus laughs: We all wanted to see the reaction on our friends and family’s faces when they find out who we are.

KL: You have fans among your friends and family?

Abbadon: Oh yeah. It’s funny having to pretend to hate metal so much I won’t go to our concerts.

Astraeus: You have to film yours, man. I have to see his reaction.

Abbadon laughs: Don’t worry, my partner has it on lock.

KL: Someone we’ve been told we can’t talk about until after the reveal.

They all snicker

Azrael: That’s because he’s here and them being a couple is also being revealed today, too.

KL: Awww, that’s so sweet. So this is how the reveal is going to work: each of you will take turns in the hot seat I point to a large red leather armchair off to the side a little and you will take off your mask, tell us your real name and a bit about yourself.

They all nod

KL: So you guys picked the order. Youngest to oldest, right? Again they nod So who’s up first?

Azrael stands up and moves over to the hot seat and sits down. He takes a deep breath and removes his mask. He pushes back his hood. Behind the mask is an unassuming man with blue eyes and wavy blond hair that goes to his shoulders. He’s conventionally handsome but he’s got a bump on the side of his nose where it’s likely been broken.

Azrael: Hi, I’m Spencer Peters, I’m 32 years old with a wife and twin little girls aged four. No she didn’t know I was a drummer for a metal band only that I travel a lot for business. He waves Hi, honey! Shout out to Sweet Pea and Pumpkin. I was an EMT before I met the rest of the band. I had been playing drums since I was ten, but I never thought it would become my job.

KL: Why did you chose the name Azrael?

Azrael: Because I wanted to pick something I wasn’t. As an EMT my job was to save lives. I figured that if I chose the angel of death no one would guess it was me. He huffs a bitter laugh And it fucking worked.

KL: No one in your life even wondered?

He shrugs: If they did, they didn’t tell me. As far as I know, no one in my life put together that my business trips line up with our touring dates.

KL: Do you feel angry about that?

He looks over the other guys and then back at the camera: Sometimes.

Abbadon ducks his head as Azrael (Spencer) stands up and walks back over to the group.

KL: Do you want to talk about that anger?

Abbadon lifts his head: My partner figured it out. Before we got together. It’s partly why we got together. But as far as any of us are aware no one else in our lives have figured it. Not spouses, parents, siblings, close friends. So yeah sometimes it hurts that they don’t know us well enough to guess.

KL: That’s got be hard. How does no one else know? Aren’t there dozens of people milling about after shows?

Asmodeus: Certain people have to know, our agent and our manager. Our chief security; they all sign NDAs but we’re also very quiet about it. We don’t get ready in their dressing rooms unless we have to. And if we do, we have armed guards in front of the door.

Abbadon waves: Shout out to Murray Bauman, though. He guessed I was the frontman for one of the masked bands. Just didn’t care which one. So he’s not on the list of people who knew I was Abbadon, because he didn’t. Until now. He wags his eyebrows.

Azrael: Plus once we’re ourselves again, everyone thinks we’re roadies or PAs or whatever role we can slip into that won’t draw suspicion.

I laugh: I guess I can see how they might make that mistake. Who’s next?

Asmodeus stands up and walks over to the hot seat and sits down. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Abbadon walks over and puts his arm around his shoulder and they whisper for a couple of moments. Abbadon stands up and moves just enough out of view of the camera but close enough that Asmodeus can still see him.

Abbadon nods and Asmodeus takes off his mask and pushes back his hood. The man’s coal dark eyes are apparently natural as he doesn’t remove any contacts. His hair is as dark as his eyes. He has a square jaw and a sweet smile. Abbadon smiles back encouragingly.

Asmodeus: he waves awkwardly at the camera My name is Simon Olsen. I’m also 32, but older then Spence by two months. I’m the biggest nerd of the group. I play D&D, I’m big sci-fi nerd, huge Trekkie. I was trying to write a sci-fi novel when I met the other guys. It’s not very good. I’m a better guitar player than I am a writer. I started playing when I was sixteen to get girls.

KL: Has it worked?

He laughs: As Simon? No. As Asmodeus, girls are always throwing themselves at me. But I never felt that was genuine so I’ve never indulged. I guess I’m a 32 year old virgin.

He winces and looks up at Abbadon. Whatever he sees there soothes him and he clears his throat.

Asmodeus: Like Spence, I picked Asmodeus because he was the antithesis of me. Someone to drive the girls wild. Cool, confident. I like being him more than me sometimes.

Abbadon holds out his hand just out of frame but Asmodeus stands up and takes it and they both walk back to the group.

KL: Is that something you all feel? That you like being your alter egos over yourselves?

They all glance around at each other.

Azrael (SP): Sometimes. We’re all what people in the 80s called preps. I’m not sure what they would call us now, probably nerds. Polos, chinos, Henleys. Suburban dads, I guess. So our alter egos, our personas if you will aren’t like that. They are so much cooler than us so it’s easier to be them.

KL: Has it been hard keeping the two lives separate?

Astraeus: More than you’ll ever guess. It’s why after a tour we don’t immediately go home we learn how to be regular guys again.

KL: I laugh How does that work?

Abbadon: Military grade specialists.

I laugh again but they don’t laugh with me: Wait, you’re serious?

They nod

Asmodeus (SO): They have these people that teach incoming soldiers how to turn off being soldiers and be people again. They’re kinda like that. Not exactly but close enough. Our head of security heads this up. He’s really fucking good.

Abbadon: I was the reason for this, by the way. My persona is so unlike my real life that there was actual talk about me being cursed. Our manager helped me that one time, because she knew me before I went on tour, but it was clear it wasn’t perfect. So she found a couple of people that would be willing to help us get in and out of character before and after our tours. It’s been a real life saver for sure.

Astraeus: And believe me, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But it’s really helped us out.

KL: Who’s next?

Astraeus stands up and makes his way over to the hot seat and curls up on it like a large house cat. It’s a jarring affect to see the large bassist tuck his legs under him like a teenage girl about share secrets with her bestie.

He takes of the mask and drops the hood. He runs his fingers through a riot of tight red curls. His face is freckled and his has a gap-toothed, goofy smile.

Astraeus: Hey guys! My name is Shane Kendrick, I’m 33 and me and Abbadon have the same birthday, year and everything. I’d call us twinsies, but he already had a soul twin in the form of our manager, and you so don’t want to get into the middle of that!

Abbadon, their manager, and Abbadon’s partner all burst out laughing. Astraeus winks at Abbadon.

I am starting to see a pattern and it’s making me a little upset if I’m honest.

Astraeus: I tease, I tease. They’re super cute. I chose the name Astraeus because there aren’t that many night gods, lots of goddesses, but not whole of gods. But I am a huge mythology nerd. In fact I helped everyone come up with their names. I chose Astraeus because he’s not a god of night, he’s the titan of night and that sounded way more metal than just a god.

I was actually studying to become a history teacher for the middle school grade when I met the rest of the band.

KL: Where did you guys meet?

Astraeus (SK): Abbadon was working at a little cafe where the three of us would come in for coffee. Me and Simon would spend hours there. Him doing his writing and me doing my homework. Spence would come in after his shift and just sit in a corner to decompress.

KL: How did you guys become friends?

They all laugh

Astraeus (SK): Abbadon was playing Corroded Coffin on their speakers. First cafe I’d ever been to where they didn’t play some new age shit.

There is a choked off laugh from Abbadon’s partner and Abbadon ducks his head. I’m sure if the mask was off, we’d see him blush.

KL: You bonded over Corroded Coffin?

Astraeus (SK): Yeah, I told him I had a crush on the drummer and he told me that he had gone to high school with them.

My jaw drops: Wait? Really?

Abbadon nods: All Hawkins High alums. Almost all different years though, too. Eddie was ahead of me, Jeff and Brian were below me one year and Gareth was two years below me.

KL: Wow!

Astraeus gets up and swaps with Abbadon. They give each other five as they pass as if they they are tagging the one out and the other in.

~

Part 2

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina @eyehartart

[velvetvexations]

Yoo!! i've been reading Karla Jay's book The Lavender Menace and I' only a few chapters in but she discusses her experiences being a part of activism in the 60s as a lesbian and then joining radical feminist groups in the 70s (she joined the Red Stockings) and I LOVE reading her bits going off about how radical feminism was racist, transphobic, and generally anti-women from the very start. Like I knew they were, but I didn't realize how much they did not hide it.

I love that she talks about in the 60s and 70s, bisexuality was considered a subcategory of lesbian and bisexuals were just fine chilling in lesbian spaces.

I love how she just goes out and says it: "We never talked, for instance, about how much better off we were than poor women or women of color. We never discussed the fact that we, too, profited from the inequalities of the world..." and shares stories about how political lesbians used her for sex in order to enlighten themselves with no actual care for her as a person. She also shares that the leaders of the radical feminist groups actually said they consider their oppression to be worse than colonization and racism.

It excited me to see a book that came out in the 2000s about the 60s and 70s (and probably 80s and 90s in the later chapters) call out radical feminism for what it really is! But at the same time,, seeing trans men and trans women adopt radical feminism when the information about how it was really anti-woman from the very start is right there is... well, it sucks.

Lavender Menace is a great book so far! A real piece of history from someone who lived the experience!

I hope you don't mind me going on a little "teehee books and knowledge and history heehee huu" rant in your inbox! If you do, please say so and I'll make sure not to do it again! Thanks for listening ♡♡

I love hearing about good literature, anon!

[3liza]

thank you for speaking rational thought AS AN ARTIST into the ai debate. i get so tired of people over simplifying, generalizing, and parroting how they’ve been told ai works lmao. you’re an icon

some of the worst AI art alarmists are professional artists as well but theyre in very specific fields with very specific work cultures and it would take a long and boring post to explain all the nuance there but i went to the same extremely tiny, hypefocused classic atelier school in San Francisco as Karla Ortiz and am actually acquainted with her irl so i have a different perspective on this particular issue and the people involved than the average fan artist on tumblr. the latter person is also perfectly valid and so is their work, all im saying is that we have different life experiences and my particular one has accidentally placed me in a weird and relevant position to observe what the AI art panic is actually about.

first thing i did when the pearl-clutching about AI art started is go on the Midjourney discord, which is completely public and free, and spent a few burner accounts using free credits to play with the toolset. everyone who has any kind of opinion about AI art should do the same because otherwise you just wont know what youre talking about. my BIGGEST takeaway is that it is currently and likely always will be (because of factors that are sort of hard to explain) extremely difficult to make an AI like Midjourney spit out precisely wht you want UNLESS what you want is the exact kind of hyperreal, hyperpretty Artstation Front Page 4k HDR etc etc style pictures that, coincidentally, artists like Karla Ortiz have devoted their careers to. Midjourney could not, when asked, make a decent Problem Glyph. or even anything approaching one. and probably never will, because there isn't any profit incentive for it to do so and probably not enough images to train a dataset anyway.

the labor issues with AI are real, but they are the result of the managerial class using AI's existence as an excuse to reduce compensation for labor. this happens at every single technological sea change and is unstoppable, and the technology itself is always blamed because that is beneficial to the capitalists who are actually causing the labor crisis each time. if you talk to the artists who are ACTUALLY already being affected, they will tell you what's happening is managers are telling them to insert AI into workflows in ways that make no sense, and that management have fully started an industry-wide to "pivot" to AI production in ways that aren't going to work but WILL result in mass loss of jobs and productivty and introduce a lot of problems which people will then be hired to try to fix, but at greatly-reduced salaries. every script written and every picture generated by an AI, without human intervention/editing/cleanup, is mostly unusable for anything except a few very specific use cases that are very tolerant of generality. i'm seeing it being used for shovelware banner ads, for example, as well as for game assets like "i need some spooky paintings for the wall of a house environment" or "i need some nonspecific movie posters for a character's room" that indie game devs are making really good use of, people who can neither afford to hire an artist to make those assets and cant do them themselves, and if the ai art assets weren't available then that person would just not have those assets in the game at all. i've seen AI art in that context that works great for that purpose and isn't committing any labor crimes.

it is also being used for book covers by large publishing houses already, and it looks bad and resulted directly in the loss of a human job. it is both things. you can also pay your contractor for half as many man hours because he has a nailgun instead of just hammers. you can pay a huge pile of money to someone for an oil portrait or you can take a selfie with your phone. there arent that many oil painters around anymore.

but this is being ignored by people like the guy who just replied and yelled at me for the post they imagined that i wrote defending the impending robot war, who is just feeling very hysterical about existential threat and isn't going to read any posts or actually do any research about it. which is understandable but supremely unhelpful, primarily to themselves but also to me and every other fellow artist who has to pay rent.

one aspect of this that is both unequivocally True AND very mean to point out is that the madder an artist is about AI art, the more their work will resemble the pretty, heavily commercialized stuff the AIs are focused on imitating. the aforementioned Artstation frontpage. this is self-feeding loop of popular work is replicated by human artists because it sells and gets clicks, audience is sensitized to those precise aesthetics by constant exposure and demands more, AI trains on those pictures more than any others because there are more of those pictures and more URLs pointing back to those pictures and the AI learns to expect those shapes and colors and forms more often, mathematically, in its prediction models. i feel bad for these people having their style ganked by robots and they will not be the only victims but it is also true, and has always been true, that the ONLY way to avoid increasing competition in a creative field is to make yourself so difficult to imitate that no one can actually do it. you make a deal with the devil when you focus exclusively on market pleasing skills instead of taking the massive pay cut that comes with being more of a weirdo. theres no right answer to this, nor is either kind of artist better, more ideologically pure, or more talented. my parents wanted me to make safe, marketable, hotel lobby art and never go hungry, but im an idiot. no one could have predicted that my distaste for "hyperreal 4k f cup orc warrior waifu concept art depth of field bokeh national geographic award winning hd beautiful colorful" pictures would suddenly put me in a less precarious position than people who actually work for AAA studios filling beautiful concept art books with the same. i just went to a concept art school full of those people and interned at a AAA studio and spent years in AAA game journalism and decided i would rather rip ass so hard i exploded than try to compete in such an industry.

which brings me to what art AIs are actually "doing"--i'm going to be simple in a way that makes computer experts annoyed here, but to be descriptive about it, they are not "remixing" existing art or "copying" it or carrying around databases of your work and collaging it--they are using mathematical formulae to determine what is most likely to show up in pictures described by certain prompts and then manifesting that visually, based on what they have already seen. they work with the exact same very basic actions as a human observing a bunch of drawings and then trying out their own. this is why they have so much trouble with fingers, it's for the same reason children's drawings also often have more than 5 fingers: because once you start drawing fingers its hard to stop. this is because all fingers are mathematically likely to have another finger next to them. in fact most fingers have another finger on each side. Pinkies Georg, who lives on the end of your limb and only has one neighbor, is an outlier and Midjourney thinks he should not have been counted.

in fact a lot of the current failings by AI models in both visual art and writing are comparable to the behavior of human children in ways i find amusing. human children will also make up stories when asked questions, just to please the adult who asked. a robot is not a child and it does not have actual intentions, feelings or "thoughts" and im not saying they do. its just funny that an AI will make up a story to "Get out of trouble" the same way a 4 year old tends to. its funny that their anatomical errors are the same as the ones in a kindergarten classroom gallery wall. they are not people and should not be personified or thought of as sapient or having agency or intent, they do not.

anyway. TLDR when photography was invented it became MUCH cheaper and MUCH faster to get someone to take your portrait, and this resulted in various things happening that would appear foolish to be mad about in this year of our lord 2023 AD. and yet here we are. if it were me and it was about 1830 and i had spent 30 years learning to paint, i would probably start figuring out how to make wet plate process daguerreotypes too. because i live on earth in a technological capitalist society and there's nothing i can do about it and i like eating food indoors and if i im smart enough to learn how to oil paint i can certainly point a camera at someone for 5 minutes and then bathe the resulting exposure in mercury vapor. i know how to do multiple things at once. but thats me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[popawritter12]

"Randoms thoughs of Poppa" Part 2

Yandere! Kengan ashura randoms thoughs

1- Sekibayashi would be the sweetest Yandere of all the types, he is kind to you and more than once doubts whether his feelings are correct. But even with those doubts, he seeks to make you happy even with the little things <3.

2-Lihito is genuinely stupid, but a cute stupid. Obviously that doesn't take away from the fact that he will follow you and act like a wayward teenager if you talk to anyone else.

3-Ohma is the least dangerous at the beginning, I mean, even with how monstrously strong he is, at the beginning of Yanderism he will seem more confused and unsure about what he feels, but in the end… let's say that if taken to the extreme of the extreme, he can turn your life in a true horror story.

4-Suekichi, even with his appearance and passive attitude, tends to act almost submissively around you, but behind your back, he shows a true side that even he didn't know.

5-Hajime would be able to poison you in small quantities to always have you close. You were like a little laboratory mouse, or rather, a little doctor's mouse.

6-Karla doesn't change much in her Yandere mode, she is practically the same as in the anime, but add to that the fact that she has recurring attacks of jealousy in public. We are talking about someone who can resort to small pushes or passive-aggressive words or physical attacks very quickly.

7-Saw Paing is the most intense of all, he doesn't even bother to hide that he follows you or that he loves you, and in fact, he will most likely show you off to your family as “his girlfriend” (This before They didn't even become friends.)

And I think he's capable of shouting it to the world if you ask him to (Or even if you don't ask him)

8-Gaolang knows how to hide his feelings from him, even when he is horrendously jealous. In fact, even when he confesses to you, you wonder if he is real or if he was just playing a prank on you.

9-Mokichi has the talent to manipulate in ways that surprise anyone. He is one of the worst in the middle of the story because of how easy it is for him to manipulate you, even with the guilt he feels involved.

10-Takayama tiene terribles tetas 👍🏻.

Finally a second part. I clarify that the number 10 is the most important of all

[captainmalewriter]

Man of her Dreams

Emma had been having strange dreams lately. At first they started as vague feelings that she would forget in the morning. But Emma could tell that they were wet dreams, as she would always wake up horny after having one. She would simply masturabate then go back to bed like normal.

But as the nights went on, her dreams became stronger and stronger until Emma couldn't tell reality from dreams anymore. It was only then that Emma realized there was someone else present in her dreams too. There was a man who had been there since the wet dreams began. Once Emma could interact with him in her dreams, they were free to fuck like wild freaks. She would submit herself to him as he claimed her territory over her body. He was dominant, and she loved him.

But no matter how much they fucked, it was always just a dream. By the time the morning sun came, Emma woke up horny and sexually frustrated, realizing it was all just a dream. But that didn't stop Emma from looking forward to seeing the man of her dreams again the next night.

Then, one night before they could fuck in her dream again, the man stopped mid-makeout and grabbed Emma.

He held her close, and whispered into her ear:

My love, I'm so tired of meeting you like this. I want to touch you, with a real body! You need to bring me to life. Listen closely...

Emma listened closely as the man told her how to bring him to life. She would need to brew a magical potion, then she would need to trick someone into drinking it. Only then could the man come to life outside of her dreams.

The man also had one other naughty request, and Emma smiled as she thought about it. She laid in her bed, motivated and ready to execute the plan. And as she scrolled through her social media feeds that morning, she found the perfect target to use the potion on. Stacy Williams, a nobody from her old high school. Someone that nobody would notice if she miraculously disappeared.

With that thought in mind, Emma kicked the plan into phase one and called her old high school friend to invite her to "catch up again after so many years."

***

...Stacy had gotten a phone call from an unknown number one random day in February. She was working a double shift when the call came in, so she wasn't able to answer. The caller had left a voicemail, and once Stacy got home from work, she listened to the voice recording.

Hey girlie! You might not remember me, but it's Emma from high school! We used to have PE together. I got your number through MyBook. I know this is totally out of the blue but would you be down to hang out with me, Karla, and Skye? They went to high school with us too! I know you're still in town, just like us, so I figured it might be fun to meet up for a casual lunch or something. Just call me back and let me know, ok? Bye!

Stacy wasn't sure what to make of the voicemail. She vaguely remembered Emma's voice, though quite frankly, she wouldn't have remembered any of them if it weren't for her yearbook. Stacy didn't really have an opinion of them. She might worked with some of them for a class project once or twice, but beyond that, Stacy didn't know them.

Stacy continued about her day while she thought about Emma's offer to meet up. The whole proposal just seemed awfully weird to her. But after weighing her options carefully, Stacy realized she wasn't opposed to the idea of catching up on old times with familiar faces. Best case scenario, she'd have a new friend or two she could talk to whenever she was bored. Worst case scenario, she'd get a free lunch and some people to block on MyBook.

In the end, Stacy called back Emma and agreed to meet up. The plan was to meet up at Emma's apartment for brunch. On the day of, Stacy got dressed up in a top and jeans and drove over to Emma's. As she walked up the doorsteps to Emma's apartment, she saw another woman waiting at the front door. Stacy recognized her; her name was Skye and she was wearing a tight dress that complimented her hourglass figure. Suddenly, Stacy felt the need to turn around and leave, but it was too late. Skye heard Stacy walking up, turned to face her, and lit up when she saw her.

"Well if it isn't good ole Stacy Williams, how the fuck are ya!?"

"Um, I'm fine. How are you?"

Stacy held out her hand for a handshake, but Skye went in for a hug instead. It caught Stacy off guard and she reluctantly gave in.

"Aww, aren't you two the sweetest? Already getting along and shit," Emma had opened the door while Skye was still hugging Stacy. "Come on inside, it's too cold to be out right now."

Emma held open the door. Stacy followed Skye inside the quaint apartment. Karla was already inside sitting at the table. She was dressed up as if she was going out to a night club too. Stacy could feel her face get warm as she wondered to herself if she underdressed for the occasion.

All four women took their seat at the table. Emma brought out finger sandwiches and mimosas for everyone. Stacy helped herself to the food while the girls started talking. At first their conversation started with just work gossip, but then they started talking about recent group activities. It forced Stacy into silence as she wasn't able to contribute to the conversation. The more Stacy listened, the more obvious it was that they all already knew each other. They weren't subtle about it either. While Stacy quietly sipped her mimosa, the rest of the women were laughing boisterously, having seemingly forgotten Stacy was even in their presence.

Some time had passed. While Stacy had finished her third mimosa, the rest of the women were still fully engaged in their conversation. After Stacy finished eating one last sandwich, she decided to excuse herself from the brunch. But as soon as Stacy tried to stand up, she felt herself getting light headed. She stumbled, and used the table to catch herself before falling the ground. The girls stopped their conversation to help her.

"Woah woah, are you okay?" Emma asked.

"Yeah... I'm fine... Just a little dizzy..." Stacy answered.

"Let's take her to the couch, give her more space to breathe," Karla commanded. She and Skye then helped Stacy over to the couch. Stacy's limbs felt numb and she struggled to walk, even with their support. But as she was led to the couch, Stacy couldn't help but notice that although everyone had a mimosa to their plate, Stacy was the only one to actually drink the cocktail.

Stacy sunk into the couch's cushions. Emma was opening the windows, Skye was getting water, and Karla was holding Stacy's hand for moral support. Stacy felt herself getting warmer and warmer. She tried looking around her surroundings. The room started spinning, and her vision became blurred. She could hear the other women talking to her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying anymore. Her breathing became quicker too. All of her symptoms grew in intensity until she eventually passed out on the couch.

***

The three women exchanged looks between themselves and the passed out Stacy. After a moment of silence, sinister smiles began to spread across their faces. They all looked at each other knowingly. Then, Skye broke the silence.

"I can't believe we actually just pulled that shit off!" Skye said excitedly.

"You're telling me... I can't believe she didn't notice none of us were actually drinking those things. Now, where's this sex god of a man you promised?" Karla asked impatiently.

"Patience, sis, it'll probably take a minute or two for the magic to kick in after passing out." Emma clarified. She looked over Stacy's body, then her eyes grew wide. "Speak of the devil, here comes the transformation now!"

The three women stepped away from the couch as Stacy's body begin to twitch and spasm. She was tossing and turning on the couch as though she were suffering from a nightmare. Stacy was groaning as her body contorted. There was a creaking noise, then Stacy's body began to stretch and grow. She had drunk three glasses full of spiked orange juice, and the magical effects were kicking in all at once.

Mass was added onto her body, causing her slim, womanly figure to balloon into a more masculine torso. As her muscles grew in size, her clothes became too tight and ripped, leaving her transforming body exposed. Her already shoulder length shortened to a mullet. The barely noticeable stubble she had on her face grew in to a full goatee with a goatee. Soon enough, Stacy had transformed into a burly man.

All of the bodily sensations Stacy went through woke her up from her stupor. She looked down at her new body with a face of confusion. She flexed her new biceps, the newfound muscle swelling up.

The three women cheered as they saw Stacy's transformation as it happened. Emma in particular was overjoyed to see the man of her dreams living and breathing in the flesh right in front of her.

"Well, girls? What did I tell y'all?" Emma was proud of her handiwork. Though her pride was short lived, as Karla tapped her on the shoulder. "Hm? What is it?"

"Look down there." Karla pointed at Stacy's groin. The transformation remained incomplete. Although the rest of Stacy's body turning into a man, she still had her vagina.

"Bro, what the fuck!? I thought you said he was hung like a horse!!" Skye yelled in a shrill voice. Her shriek caught Stacy's attention.

"Who's supposed to be hung!? Who am I!? What did you guys do to me!!" Stacy cried out with her original voice. The women were taken back at the sound of Stacy's voice remaining unchanged.

"That's weird... She's still herself... I guess the magic missed her vagina, voice, and her mind." Emma tapped her foot as she pondered what could've gone wrong with the transformation. She hated that Stacy's mind was still intact despite her body no longer belonging to her. She would have to troubleshoot it herself. Emma then straightened her posture and began to walk towards Stacy.

"Well, nothing a little manual labor can't fix." She walked up to Stacy then pushed her down onto the couch, forcing her to lay down. "Come on, ladies, won't you give me a hand with him?"

Stacy watched as she saw the three women exchange knowing looks with one another. Her nerves grew when Emma used her hands to hold her down by the thighs.

"Hey! What are you-"

Stacy was cut off sentence as Emma began going down on her.

"Nrgh... Wh-what are- Stop! I don't- Like women!!"

Emma ignored Stacy's outbursts and continued giving her oral. But the way Emma pleasured Stacy's pussy wasn't the way someone usually would. Instead, she licked until Stacy's clit grew erect. Then, Emma ignored the rest of the vagina and focused solely on the erect clit. Emma sucked on it as though it were a dick, going up and down on it at a fierce pace.

Stacy felt a pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced. Stacy wanted Emma to stop, but at the same time, she couldn't deny that she was having the best time of her life. She was getting a blowjob, just like a man would! Soon her clitoris grew as Emma sucked on it. Her vaginal lips disappeared, leaving two hairy balls heavy with cum in their place. The head of the clit grew out into a proper dick head. Emma noticed it took more effort to suck Stacy off as a veiny 7 inch dick formed, but she gladly met the challenge and deep throated it with ease.

Stacy thought that would be the end of it, but then Skye and Karla joined in too. Skye made out with Stacy while Karla sucked on her massive pecs. Stacy's nipples may had shrunk in size, but they were sensitive to the touch. The warm, wet feel of Karla's mouth sent Stacy into a spiral of amazing feelings.

The three women continued pleasuring the new male body like this for a long while. At first, it was just Stacy receiving all the pleasure. But that soon changed the longer they kept at it. Thanks to the body stimulation the three women gave her, Stacy was no longer Stacy for she had fully transformed into Steven- the sex god of Emma's dreams.

"You like that, babe?" Emma asked in between breathes.

"Fuck yeah, baby," Steven answered in a new baritone voice. "The chicks you brought are hot as fuck too, I knew you wouldn't disappoint." Steven bent down and tongue kissed Emma. "Now keep suckin'."

The three women followed Steven's command. Steven pulled Skye in closer and stuck his tongue inside her mouth. With his free hand, he pushed Emma down on his dick and held her there for as long as she could. They were all moaning like crazy, until Steven got up from the couch. The women were confused, but then they pieced together what was going on as Steven positioned Emma to lay down. He got down on his knees, opened her legs, and proceeded to go down on her.

"Oh fuck...!! Yeah just like that! I've been a bad girl... Fuck me harder!!" Emma moaned.

The roles were flipped after the transformation. Now, instead of the three women using Steven for their pleasure, it was Steven using them for his pleasure. He had no problem asserting his new masculine sexuality over the three women.

And they loved every single moment of it! Emma had delivered on the promise she made to Skye and Karla that they'd have the time of their lives if they helped her bring him to life. Steven had them in rotation between one woman getting fucked hard, one woman getting her tits sucked, and one woman getting her pussy fingered by Steven's godly hands. An hour had passed since Steven took over Stacy's mind and body, and they had all been fucking since. Between one dick loaded with cum and three pussies ready to squirt, they were all covered in a massive quantity of bodily fluids. Wet and sticky after getting drenched with a mixture of men's cum and women's cum, they all gazed at each other as they caught their breath after a long, hard fuck. Emma was the first to break the silence this time.

"Who are you?" she asked the man. He smirked before answering.

"Steven fucking Williams, the one and only!" he flexed his guns while answering too.

Skye squealed when she heard his answer while Emma sighed a breathe of relief. Although they needed to step in to finish the job, they had successfully brought a figment of Emma's imagination. Now they had a man who was more than happy to fulfill their greatest sexual desires.

The three women took a picture with their new boy toy to celebrate the occasion. It was truly the start of a beautiful relationship of never ending horniness between Emma and Steven, and along with Skye and Karla whenever they were in need of a few extra holes too.

[reinekes-fox]

One time in real life, I accidentally refered to my girlfriend as my wife during a casual conversation and only realiazed it after someone pointed it out.

I now wonder how the boar ros would react to MC making the same mistake and not even noticing.

Okay that sounds so damn cute!

Astoria: She freezes, has she heard right? her eyes go to you, have you noticed what you said? Was that planned? Or a mistake? But what kind of mistake would that be! She looks down, hiding a smile and blinking away tears of joy.

Chase: His head snaps around fast enough to hurt. "Ey Wing, what did you say?" You blink at him. "What did I say?" you ask confused and he chuckles. "Seriously?", he lays an arm around your shoulder, "You called me your husband! Say, since when are we engaged? I never saw a ring!"

Droznik: The soft chuckle gets stuck in his throat. Did he hear that right? He stares at you, trys to decipher if you know what you just said... he just shakes his head, what a weird but fun slip up. But... who knows, maybe someday you will say it and it will be real!

E. Falkenflug: They freeze. "Wing, what did you say?" they ask, just to make sure. Maybe they had heard what they wanted to hear, maybe their mind has been playing tricks on them... "Hm?" you ask and they shake their head, lightly punching your shoulder. "You idiot! Do you want to marry me?"

Fuchsia: She stops with what she is doing, a chuckle leaving her. "Oh, Wing, are we married? I think we are a bit too young for that!"

Jonah/Columba: They laugh, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Think you will get out of doing cleaning the gear up by calling me your spouse? Oh no, not so easy!"

Karla/Chris: They also dont register it. It sounds natural, like something meant to be that way.

Marcel: He freezes. Doesnt say another word for the whole conversation and is happy the other Ravens talk. "Hey.", he mrmurs to one of them, Joseph, "You heard that too, right? Wing calling me husband?" Joseph nods and chuckles. "Want to do something about that?"

Marter: It had been a phone call and they had listened to your voice, like always when they get the chance to hear it. In their head they have saved your voice, made you read, made you talk to them. Things they didnt yet have with you... so when they heard it at first they thought it had been in their mind, a pretty illusion. But no... you really said that. So they smile. Maybe someday it will be a reality.

Sebastian: At first he thinks he misheard, his head lowered as if he wants to hide from a word that was said carelessly. The small hope that wants to lift its head at it, he tries to crush it.

[mollyjames]

That Souls comic was the first time I drew two girls kissing. It's silly to think about it now, but at the time I was terrified. I was barely out of the closet myself, and still wasn't talking openly about being queer. Nowadays that's all part and parcel, but the Souls comic was the first real step in that direction.

It's also important to me personally because it firmly established Halply's sexuality going forward. Before Karla, I was a lot more on the fence about what to do with her. Afterwards, it was immediately apparent Halply was a lesbian, and that she always kinda had been.

[msookyspooky]

   Fours a Franchise

Part 3

wordcount: 8, 468

You stared at the animated, charismatic man you hadn't seen in 10 years. Blanket curled around you to hide half your face as you watched the big screen intently. Stu imitating that voice took you back to the cemetery that day…How simple it felt hugging him and talking to him about the past before it all seemed to steadily go downhill from there on out.

Randy got your attention and pointed to the twins. "I think they're tuckered out finally…They stayed up just one extra hour more than they usually do. Count it as a blessing, right? One day they're gonna be out way past curfew worrying me and their mother sick."

You looked over at them. Both 6 year olds curled up together on a giant beanbag chair on the floor. Sleeping soundly without a care in the world. You couldn't stop the smile slowly spreading across your face as you lowered your blanket and Randy paused the DVD.

Karla crept into the room. "I heard the tv go off. Are they sleeping yet?" She whispered.

Randy nodded and took Chad into his arms. His son mumbled something in his sleep as Randy softly shhed him to go back to sleep. Karla took Mindy to help get them to her and Randy's bed.

You were secretly grateful to not finish Scooby Doo because seeing 'Shaggy' made you feel so many complicated and uncomfortable feelings all at once.

You REALLY didn't want to make that call now.

Karla laid Mindy down before she sweetly kissed her and Chad's foreheads as Randy tucked them in. Then she walked over to you in the doorway and quietly asked. "Are you going to be okay on the couch, YN?"

"Yeah, totally." You replied back. "I really appreciate you letting me stay, Karla. Seriously, I can leave and make up an excuse to Randy. I swear, he'll never know."

"Yes, he will." Randy mumbled as he appeared near the doorway. Children tucked into the center of their Queen Sized bed. You puffed air past your lips as he folded his arms and gave you a scowl. "I will know if you suddenly sneak out, YN. What do you take me for?"

"Ray, I was talking to your wife. You know, your equal, 50/50 partner and or other half that also gets a say in this household?"

Randy huffed but said nothing.

Karla thought for a moment. "Not here. Let's talk in the kitchen. Leave the door open. They like the hallway light…Especially after SOMEONE showed them Alien last week. Chad is convinced a creature is going to attack his face in the dark now…RANDY." She gave a side eyed glare at her husband.

Randy threw his hands up with a nervous smile. "Hey, now. Mindy demanded to watch it and I'm not denying my own daughter the pleasure of appreciating a good cinematic masterpiece with an excellent female role model, not to mention great storytelling, and the dying art of real life special effects. CGI everything nowadays; she loved the practical effects and engineering; she rarely sees it on tv anymore!...Chad loved it until that particular part where the xenomorph burst out of Kane's chest…In hindsight, I probably should have warned him. My bad..."

Karla tilted her head with a glare and a shake of her head. "I HIGHLY doubt he loved that boring ass movie." She gave him a look as he went to argue. "And don't try convincing me a 6 year old loved a damn movie where most of it is shot in a lab on a dark spaceship with scientific lingo. Just because they want to watch it doesn't mean they should."

"But he did!"

Karla shhed him.

"... He loved the sci-fi feel and he really liked the android until…Look, he'll be okay! I watched Motel Hell and Cujo at his age and I turned out fine! Look at me; Perfectly fine!" He gestured to himself.

You raised a brow. "That is extremely debatable."

Randy mumbled. "Well, Mindy liked it-"

"Melinda likes anything Randall likes. If she could wear your clothes and be your mini me; she would…Chad is sensitive to that stuff. He's not like his sister. He's-"

"Like his mother? You jumped into my lap and hid your face in my shirt halfway through our first horror movie together. It was that dumb remake of Amityville Horror, remember?" He gave with a mildly amused smirk.

"He's 6. Just leave the damn door open. We need to make sure we can check on them…You coming, YN?"

"Yeah. Just a moment." You said, watching the twins.

Karla smiled lightly and told you. "Okay. We'll be in the kitchen."

You nodded as you heard Randy whispering to Karla down the hall and she did the same to him as you just…Stood there a second. Taking in your two god children sleeping peacefully. Randy almost made Martha their god mother and Karla almost made her brother their godfather but both decided despite your flaws the kids needed someone that wasn't new to this survival thing just in case. They knew you knew how to survive and protect. It was agreed that if worse came to worse; all of you survivor's would come together to try and be a part of these kids' lives and you were first on the list. It helped that you made your own schedule for work now that freed you for taking care of kids more than Dewey or Gale or Martha…For a small moment in time…You couldn't help wondering 'what if?'. What if you did live a normal life or chose to live like Randy did? What if you had that domestic family life so many people wanted?…Then you remembered why they were sleeping in their parents' beds in the first place and you were grateful you didn't have kids with Derek or Mark or some random guy or hell even Randy, as crazy as it seemed now, had you both stayed together. Because the idea of worrying about kids in this situation terrified you as their adopted second aunt and or god mother. Let alone a parent.

You heard Randy talking a little louder and walked away to the kitchen where you saw Karla sitting down and Randy leaning back onto the counter.

You interrupted them to clear your throat. Awkwardly standing there as you asked. "So…Should I call up Gale to see if I can stay there or try and get a motel nearby or…?"

Karla thought a moment before sighing heavily and shaking her head. "No. I can't have that on my conscience. Besides, Randy's right. This is here…This bullshit is here and pushing you away won't make it disappear.  Besides, it's not fair to you." She leaned on the table with her arms folded in front of her. "I've been thinking…Maybe me and the kids should leave."

Randy focused on her, brows raising slightly as he softly asked.  "Leave?"

"Yeah. Not permanently, dumby. Just until this case gets solved…I know this might be a one time thing and we might not be in any danger but I'd like the option. Just have me and the twins go to my Mom and Dad's for a few days…Baby, can't you just leave too? Tell Dewey to get over it. Tell him there's a wedding, a funeral, anything!"

He hung his head. "I can't. The Woodsboro hall monitor would get me in detention and I won't be any good to you or the kids in jail. In fact, we'd be in even more danger because the killer always strikes when a person goes to jail. Besides, hypothetically …If we truly are dealing with a franchise starring a hyped up killer linking to all the past kills; where I go, the killer will probably follow. It happens every time." He shrugged. "YN and I are the survivors of this movie franchise along with Gale and Dewey. The only other potential victims are those linked to the original victims that died."

"Like Jill Roberts?" You commented.

He snapped his fingers at you and pointed. "Bingo. And just our luck, the newest Prescott lives across the street."

"God, not those stupid fucking rules, Randy!" Karla groaned.

"May I remind you, dear, that I lived through this a total of 3 times now and I've been right almost every single time?…Well, except Neil but I did say the past would bite us in the ass." He tilted his head and continued.  "So I think it's pretty obvious I can't go if that happens. I'm just as stuck here as YN."

Karla scoffed. "Then forget it! I'll just drop off the kids and-"

Randy held up a finger. "Ah, ah! We gotta be smart about this. You're smart with everything, now, hear me out and be smart here. We can't use our hearts over our heads in a horror movie...If something goes wrong; they need at least one parent. They need their Mother." He affirmed.

Karla went to argue with him for daring to even think that could happen.

You raised your hand with a wince, trying to get their attention as Karla stopped mid rant to stare at you. "U-Um, I hate to barge into this conversation but…Randy's right, Karla…I hate the idea of it but it's true. Plus, you have no ties to this killer other than me and Randy. If this was some guy with a trench coat and hook like the killer you faced? I'd tell Randy to take the kids instead, but right now, you and the twins don't need to be here…I really think you should get out with them while you can because the target will be me, Randy, Gale, Dewey and possibly Jill. The killer would only go after you to get to me and Randy. Or the kids-"

Randy sighed, seeming overstimulated with what you said as he ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay! We might be pushing it here! I'm glad we have a plan b but for now only 2 teen girls were killed and 2 teen girls got phone calls."

You leaned against the wall with a confused expression. "What are you saying exactly?"

"I'm saying, Karla might be right and this could just be an isolated incident. It might not have anything to do with us! I mean, not a single adult has gotten a call. You know teenagers. Obviously Jenny and her friend died last night but that doesn't mean these girls aren't just feeding into the Woodsboro propaganda…I say we hold tight until we get the big clue that we need to get you and the kids out of here. This is just talk for a plot that might not even happen."

"But, Randy. You just said!-"

"It's just talk, YN! That's all. Just in case of an emergency." Randy surmised before turning to Karla. "I think it's a wonderful idea to visit your folks for a surprise week-long getaway and if shit really does hit the fan…I say me and YN take the risk and sneak out. The killer will fuck up, get caught and we'd be in the clear anyways and Dewey can get over it…But till then, it's just talk! We're fine. We'll just hang tight, be normal for the kids and let this pass."

Karla gave a relieved smile and got up. "I am so glad you agree." She got up and kissed him on the cheek as he smiled at her.

You held a tight, forced smile. In the back of your mind you wanted to protest. To tell Randy he's in denial yet again and that he's just terrified of dealing with this again for the 4th time…But with Karla and the twins; you just didn't have the heart to argue.

Randy smiled and kissed her. Karla hummed in her throat and mumbled. "Love you, baby. I think I'm hitting the sack early tonight."

"Love you too. I'll be there later. I wanted to watch a movie or two with YN and catch up." His hand rested on the small of her back, lingering until she pulled away.

"That's fine but don't burn too much midnight oil. You still got work tomorrow. Night YN. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Karla. Goodnight." You gave with a soft voice and smile. Even if you wanted so badly to yell at them both to get a grip and look at this situation as realistically or borderline cynically as you were.

You watched her leave as Randy pushed himself from the counter. Rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. "Alright! Now that we don't have to watch a CGI talking dog; Campy classic or serious thriller? Or are you feeling like action or sci fi?"

"Surprise me."

—————————————————

You and Randy were in your nightclothes as you lounged on the couch and he sat in a recliner. You both just finished watching Idle Hands. Both of you laughing for most of it.

"God, I haven't seen this stupid shit in years." You chuckled while eating popcorn out of a bowl.

"I have. Just last week. I keep it circulating as my comfort movies after a long day...Kids do not watch this obviously and when Chad did see me watching it I changed it and he just thinks the guy has some serious Asthma problems." He raised his brows at you.

"Uh huh and what does Karla think of the very nice but unnecessary boob shot from that one girl dressed like Paul Stanley?"

"Ehh...I kind of skip that part if she's around.  She's probably fine with it and it could be softcore porn for foreplay but it could also be 'You're sleeping on the couch with the tape and tv since you seem so interested in them'. As nice as Kelly Monaco's are; they definitely are not the real thing. I'm not taking that chance."

You chuckled to yourself at that.

He gestured to the tv with huff. "I still don't see where you get calling me Seth Green. He's like 5'4, he could stare in the next Leprechaun movie if he wanted to! I'm 5'10 which is well above average."

You gawked. "You are so full of shit! You are not 5'10. 5'8 at the max."

"Uh, no I am not! I'm technically 5'9 and 3 quarters. THANK YOU. Besides, even if I was 5'8 that is still inches taller than Seth!"

You grinned at him. "...Yeah, I know. I just like to pester you." He threw a piece of popcorn at you and you tried to catch it in your mouth but failed. You laughed and continued. "Consider it payment for all those years of pestering me. The second I realized I was close to your height or taller with heels and it bothered you? Instant fuel. Doesn't help you and Seth had the same hair in Highschool and he always played geeky characters…I really think he should have been casted for you in Stab. Just saying."

He blew a puff of air out in annoyance. "Certainly be better than Christopher whats his face."

The end credits came on and you set your popcorn bowl on the table. He then got up to go to the cabinet he stored a few movies in. "ANYWAYS. How about we watch something we definitely haven't watched together in years with genuine rules to survive a horror movie as a refresher?-" He picked up Nightmare on Elm Street and shook the dvd with a raise of his brows. "Huh? Whaddya say?"

You hesitated. Almost saying yes until you remembered your preteen crush was in it. When you realized years later that your crush, Glen played by a very young Johnny Depp, looked so similar to Billy…Well, it wasn't exactly a comforting feeling.

"Uh, nah. We've seen it so much I kind of want something new. Wasn't there a remake last year?"

Randy's eyes narrowed and his face sagged into an unamused glare. "Do not even mention that piece of shit. It was a complete mockery of the franchise and!-"

You waved your hand with a chuckle. "Okay, okay! Don't wake up your wife and kids. Let's see. There's My Bloody Valentine. Oh, maybe the one that came out 2 years ago-"

Randy groaned with his head rolled back. "Urgh, you just want to watch it for that Supernatural guy." He imitated his deep voice. "Dean."

"Oh, like that's a crime now? You got to ogle at horror movie tits for how long but god forbid I want to look at pecks?...And there's Friday the 13th from 2 years ago, House of Wax, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Jessica Alba is in that too. Rob Zombie's Halloween, Amityville Horror with Ryan Reynolds -"

He blinked repeatedly at you with a blank stare. "Yn, are you trying to make me have an aneurysm?"

"Those are good! Oh come on, Randy! What is wrong with reboots and remakes?"

"EVERYTHING!" He growled out in a comically dramatic way.

"House of wax had Paris Hilton, okay! The care that went into it is amazing! The way it was shot, the cast, the lore woven into the plot and Texas Chainsaw Massacre from 03 was scary with a great cast! And sorry, but Thomas Hewitt coming after me is a fucking hell of a lot scarier than Bubba Sawyer. It's a fun time; don't be an elitist horror snob."

"Hey, hey, hey! I am the farthest thing from a horror elitist, alright? I watched Society and Return of the Living Dead and Killer Klowns VERY enthusiastically. " He pointed on each finger while using his hands to talk. "But there's a difference between campy B list horror that doesn't take itself seriously and shitty remakes that touch the originals and try to scramble the plot just because some M Shyamalan thinks they can make it 'better' while completely disregarding the intent behind the original! They suit up the killers to be 7 feet tall and indestructible and either give them some bullshit tragic backstory that wasn't needed OR they make them crazier then what they were. It's insulting to long time horror fans! Like we need coddled into understanding why some cannibal hillbilly is the way he is. WHO FUCKING CARES!" He ranted before he sighed loudly. "Okay, some of those are not 'rip my eyes out bad' but the Nightmare on Elm Street remake? The worst. So bad I wish I could kick everybody's ass that was involved with that movie."

"Fair enough. Jeez." You gave him an amused smirk.

You settled down as he rummaged through DVD's. You couldn't help just saying it; the last few hours were the most interaction with a friend you've had in months. It slipped out with a sad smile. "I missed this…You know, me and you watching movies. Long talks. Goofing off. Sometimes Dewey and Gale coming over for game night. You and Gale screaming at each other over the game rules. Dewey trying to man the grill just for us to order pizza instead. Even me and Gale talking over coffee here and there…I miss it."

He turned towards you and smiled a bit. "Yeah. Life was simpler in our early 20's. Well, despite a crazed killer after us every few years…But other than that, yeah…What can we say? Responsibilities take hold and Adulting sucks and we're this much closer to realizing why our parents had mental breakdowns here and there."

"Yeah, it can…I know adulthood can take things away from us and make us busy but…How did we just…Slip away? " You sadly asked as his smile fell. "I mean, how do we go from seeing each other every single week for years on end to only seeing each other once or twice a year if we're lucky?"

He frowned, walking back over and sitting on the couch with you as you moved your legs. He stumbled over his words at first, mumbling. "I-...I-I don't know. Life, YN. We both got busy. Especially me before your book took off…I got with Karla and we went through the new relationship phase and not long after we found out the twins were coming and then a rushed wedding because Karla wanted to fit into a dress before her body went to hell...It did not, by the way, but she still insisted....And most of all her Pop's would have run my fucking neck that the eccentric white boy without a job at the time got his daughter knocked up without a proper wedding first. Have you seen her Dad? I'm scared of him a little bit to this very day plus her brother is 6'2 and pumps iron for fun. So...I can only run so fast for so long." He half laughed, half scoffed before shrugged. "I'm joking of course I was ready too! It just happened so fast and I didn't want to stay living with my parents forever with a new wife and kids. Honestly, we didn't have the room there for all of us. So I worked at the video store again and my old boss said 'Hey, wanna take this piece of crap off my hands?' and I said 'Sure!' So I went to the bank and thank god for Karla's good credit to get a loan…Got the video store, Karla got settled into her job coincidentally at the bank we got the loan from, got a mortgage here even though we didn't plan on staying at Woodsboro but it was steal and we couldn't pass it up, the kids went to daycare and now school and the book store was bought too…Life just…Whipped me upside the face the last 7 years."

You sighed to yourself. "...Yeah, I get it. It happens so quick too. One day I was alone in my cabin afraid to go to a movie theater by myself  next thing I know I'm on the big screen for interviews again and now book signings. Went from no one really knowing me outside of my name to everyone recognizing my face on the street...I guess life kicked my ass too this last decade."

"How? I mean, no offense but you're loaded and I'm barely making it by. I just saw you on Good Morning America a few weeks ago! I know the past sucks but you're doing pretty good for yourself now."

You debated saying anything, looking down as you slowly mumbled out. "I know it seems like that, Randy but…Truth is…I regret ever writing that stupid book sometimes." You shoved the blanket off of you to sit up further. "I just…Is it selfish to feel left out that everyone seemed to move on but me?" Randy's eyes scanned over you, brows slightly raising as he focused on you. You looked away a moment and continued. "I know it's hard for all of us…But deep down inside, I sort of envy you."

"Envy? Me?" He asked with a confused look.

"Yeah. Kind of. I envy you living a normal life with your normal spouse and happy family and being able to be a normal part of the world for the most part. I envy Karla too and Dewey and Gale…All of you went through Hell but you still found a way to move back to a town that the trauma happened in and you got over it and-"

He held up a hand. "Woah. Woah, there. My life is not as normal as you think it is, YN. Just last week, I had a panic attack in the book store's bathroom because I got startled. I felt pathetic that as a grown man I was breathing into a bag close to pissing myself over the cat knocking something over. It was so fucking random too! Half the time; I'm fine but for whatever reason this one particular thing triggered me. I run past closed doors on cars and buildings because I'm terrified I'm going to get attacked again. I flinch with loud noises just like you do. I have to take so many pain relievers at such a young age it makes me feel like I'm 70! Okay, I'm not normal."

"I know that it's more…Emotional. I'm not trying to compare; I know we all have our scars to bare. Believe me, I was there with you in recovery. I know. " He gave a sad smile, remembering you both dating sometime after he was released from the hospital and could barely walk. You sighed and went on to say "…But you have someone. That fear you had of not getting anyone after Sidney and then after me is gone. My last chance died in front of me, Randy." He frowned at you as you continued. "I can't trust people, Ray. I couldn't even walk into this stupid town without an angry mob forming let alone making a connection. I came here and two girls got murdered and I'm apparently... The Angel of Death." You choked out. "Gale gets to be the retired reporter and Dewey gets to be the hero Sheriff and you get to be the average guy with a loving family…" You stared at him, locking eyes as you drew out with a heavy heart. "But me? I'll always be the Final Girl and the Victim and the Suspect for the rest of my life. No one wants that. No one wants to befriend that. No one wants to even be around that! I should be grateful you even still associate with me since you quintessentially moving on with life past being just a survivor."

"YN…" He softly sighed out.

"Sometimes…Sometimes I seriously wonder if the trauma was what held us all together for so long because we were scared of befriending new people. Now that you and Dewey were lucky enough to be over your traumatic past just enough to make friends and get partners and normal jobs…I get left behind. Because I'm not over it. I'll probably never be over it. We all were targeted but I was the main target. From both the media and the killers."

He scooted closer, your knees touching as he shook his head. "I don't believe that for a second. YN, we just grew up! That's all." He tried reassuring you but deep down inside you knew better. He fumbled but told you. "Maybe you are hanging onto the trauma and you gotta ease up a bit? You can't isolate yourself forever, YN. It's not healthy or human. Trust me; I was a lonely geek most of my life turned recluse myself after what happened and I'm living proof it gets better!" He hesitated but said it anyways. "And…I know Mark's death hurt you. You've never been the same since Hollywood." He frowned and swallowed as you looked at him. "You really closed yourself off after Neil and Roman and Angelina. After you had to face off with them alone…I still can't beileve that I almost lost you and I couldn't do anything about it. I mean, damn! It's no wonder you seemed depressed and scared after going through that and I don't think you ever fully recovered...Who would? I hate that for you and sometimes I feel so goddamn guilty moving on but I just…I couldn't stay in the dark with you. I couldn't deal with my best friend losing herself so I went to that survivors meeting for my own sake and unwittingly met Karla and the rest is history. And I don't regret it, YN. "

"Randy, I never damned you for moving on. Never! You deserve this life and to be happy!… I just wish I could join you. All of you."

"You can! You gotta find the light, I mean…Isn't that what your book's all about?"

You released a bitter chuckle and hung your head. "Oh fuck, Ray. I didn't even write it."

He blinked repeatedly. "What?" He shook his head. "W-What do you mean?"

"Yeah. Rebecca found me after she found my pen name and connected the dots of who I really was. Convinced me to write a self help book that she had me edit so much the words weren't even mine anymore."

"You wrote other books?? Why didn't you tell me?"

You looked down and wrung the blanket in your hands. "Because I was embarrassed. They did badly and the idea of people I know reading my books makes me want to crawl in a hole and die, to be honest."

He shook his head, looking away a second in thought. "Wait…So, all of this-"

"Is bullshit. The hair, the clothes, the perfect smile and Martha Stewart attitude and motivational talk…It's all bullshit I've been coached on by Rebecca's team to get the most bang for their buck. " You shrugged with a numb monotone voice. "I'm basically a walking money maker for my publicist. I go to hotels alone after every event, get used by fame seeking money hungry media types, sometimes I'm lucky enough to go home and be with Cherri for a few days. I get so desperate I sometimes like Rebecca as company. " You hung your head, a humorless chuckle escaping you again as Randy stared.

"Jesus YN, I had no idea. You could've called! For Christ sakes, why didn't you try to talk to me about all this!"

You looked up at him. "Randy, I have. Every phone call we've had the last few months has been me calling you. I feel like a burden, Ray! I mean, seriously. How can I complain when I'm driving new cars and staying at penthouses between book signings and interviews meanwhile you're a struggling middle class guy just trying to provide for his family? I feel shitty talking about it now!"

"You are NOT a burden. I told you, life-"

You lightly smacked your hands together in frustration. "Gets busy, I know! I'm not damning you, okay? But I just needed to vent that my life isn't glamorous like you or anyone else thinks it is… I'd give every last bit of it up for it to be '99 again. Eating crappy spaghetti in my new modest cabin I just bought and me, you and Dewey having dinner and laughing at my kitchen table like we used to…" You ran a hand over your head. "I just hate feeling like this! I'm so happy for you and Karla and I love those kids so much. It's just the feeling of being left out of a life I should be able to live if it wasn't for society thinking I'm still a fucking murderer sucks ass. Maybe I'd like to be able to go walk on a street without fear. That I could go grocery shopping without stares or have a partner I didn't have to worry about being a killer or potential victim or have more friends and go out without a panic attack or threat on my life. I wish so badly I could be fucking normalish and move on the way everyone else seems to... I want that stupid pseudo-quasi happy existence."

Randy eased closer to you as you leaned your elbows on your knees. He hesitated before saying. "Well, YN. Maybe you should try again? Try to go to meetings like I did! I mean, Christ. You're an attractive woman in her prime that's now America's Sweetheart. You can't tell me you couldn't find someone...I know you can! I mean, if Mark existed or Derek or…Or just make another friend! I won't get too jealous. Now, if he's some movie expert that you're taking to the cinema with and saw movies I haven't seen yet I MAY get a little bit territorial over our friendship. I was here first. I'll always be friend number one, alright?" He nudged your shoulder with his and you tried to force a smirk as best you could as he kept talking. "You have a gun and self defense skills and most of all it's been a decade since the last killer attacked, and no; I'm not counting what happened today. We have no idea! It could be one of those protesters that killed those girls just trying to frame you or just regular jealous boyfriend teen drama murder that happens in every town at least once. For all you know, you could be wasting your youth terrified of something that will never happen again!"

You sighed heavily, knowing he was just trying to help but he just didn't get it. He could try but he still didn't understand…Especially with your secret.

"Yeah." You simply gave. You looked over at him. "So…Maybe you should do the same with work."

"Huh?" He muttered as you leaned on the back of the couch.

"Movies. Specifically, Hollywood…Randy, you don't belong here. Dewey belongs here but you don't and I think you know it. I know you love your family and wife but you are this close to being one of those miserable middle aged men in 20 years pissed off they still have to work their ass off while having barely any money and are bitter at their wife and kids as the source of why they had to work so hard and therefore why they're unhappy when really it was because they got suckered into thinking they needed a conventional life that hasn't worked since like 1970 with too many responsibilities to even think of being happy."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh please-"

"I'm serious." You stated with a look his way. "You said it yourself; the video store won't be a thing for long and how well will the book store go especially when your heart isn't in it? I know I'm being a hypocrite right now preaching about doing what you love and I know I have the money to do it if I wanted to and you don't. Okay, I know my financial privileges but. …You went to college for film! You know what makes a movie a piece of art. Use that knowledge, Ray....Go to Hollywood. Apply for some positions, and before long, maybe I'll see your name at an awards ceremony next to Wes Craven, James Cameron, John Carpenter or Sam Raimi."

He gave a soft huff with a smirk and eyeroll. "Yeah, I bet."

"What? Too scared? Can't move out of your comfort zone to be a failure while you're preaching to me to move out of my comfort zone with my life on the line instead?"

He gave you a dumbfounded look. "I can't just pack up and leave! That's easy for you, not me."

"Oh, I thought you were 32 not 72."

"YN, I have responsibilities here!"

"Responsibilities that can take a vacation until you decide for real…You own both places, Randy. Besides, Hollywood is 2 hour drive from here; max. So technically, if you had to, you could just drive back and forth until then. Karla has mentioned to me multiple times she wouldn't mind moving someplace with more to do than Woodsboro. "

He paused at that. "Really?"

"Yes." You nodded with raised brows.

"Well…I do feel guilty sometimes that she doesn't have more. She went back to college for finance and ended up married to a loser trying to make a dream happen that's been retired since the 90's."

"But it is there, Ray! You're just thinking too small with a video store or movie house when you could be helping make the fucking movies! Okay, Mindy and Chad probably wouldn't even remember this place if you moved. You could still not move at all if it works out." You sat up and put your hand out in front of you as you put a hand behind him on the couch. "Picture it, Randy. Doing something you love, something you're good at, something that could change your life and have you all never struggle again…And all you have to do is take the damn chance. You live in California, for fucksakes! It's not like you're traveling clear from Vermont for your big break. I just hate seeing you struggle and you're too stubborn to accept money from me.. So why not? Especially while you're still young."

Randy thought a moment before getting up and shaking his head with a bemused grin. "Yeah, sorry but I think that dream went out the window last time we went there. I'll manage. You on the other hand really need to take your own advice and take the chance."

You took in a breath and leaned back. "Yeah, fine. Maybe I'll try a survivors' meeting."

"Thank you!" He sarcastically announced. "Certainly beats being lonely or gardening as a hobby. Seriously, when are you going to line up and fill that stupid hole you claim is going to be a pond in your backyard?"

"Someday maybe." You smiled to yourself. 

He shrugged to himself and wondered aloud. "So…Maybe when this is over; me and Karla and the kids-" You frowned knowing they'd never find the time. He must have noticed and corrected himself. "Or just me and you can go do something. I GUESS Gale can come too. God knows Dewey won't."

"Are you still mad at him?"

"Aren't you? You should be at home right now. Fuck, we all should be there with you for a weekend long visit and instead we're forced here because he got a bigger badge and a vote and has to play the part now."

"Randy…You know Dewey's got to be lawful now. It's kind of part of the job."

"Yeah, I fucking know…Still annoying as hell and the start of every horror movie WHICH THIS MAY NOT BE!" He hissed out before you could argue. You faltered and closed your mouth with a huff. You saw him stifle a yawn before he said. "Anyways, we don't know anything yet. Here's to hoping we continue our normalish existence, try to make time for each other more and the only horror is coming to theaters this November after Bella had that kid named Resume."

"Seriously. I think you're secretly a fan and you just can't admit it."

"Am not."

"Wow, 5 year old arguments always win."

"Fuck you." He laughed out before yawning again.

You smiled and pointed behind him. "Go to bed, old man. You have big boy responsibilities now and need sleep. Gone are the days of your youth staying up till 5 and sleeping till 3."

"I'm not old, I work. Some of us have JOBS."

You made a mocking 'ooh' noise before retorting. "Don't be mad I worked smarter and more miserably and sold my soul to one of Satan's minions aka Rebecca Walters…BUT I can stay up an hour or two later than you, so there."

Randy laughed as you grinned at him. He waved you away. "Alright, watch whatever you want. You don't need me to tuck you in. Goodnight."

"Night." You watched him leave before switching on the regular cable and laying back on the couch with a blanket and pillow Karla gave you.

He came back in, rushing over to the front door to make sure it was locked. You raised an amused brow and he held up his hands defensively replying. "Hey, I'm not saying it's happening again…But you can't be too careful."

"Got it. I'll be on nightwatch. Goodnight Randy."

He saluted you as you playfully rolled your eyes and turned back to the tv.

A good 15 minutes went by. You weren't even watching anything. It was 11:45 at night and you were just thinking on that couch…

'...I know I should call them but maybe I don't have to? We don't know anything yet. Then again, we kind of do and Randy's just in denial like always.' You released a puff of air past your lips. 'Maybe he's right? Maybe I'm letting all of this eat at me for way too long. I have the money and means to go live anywhere I want! Maybe…Maybe I should? Randy isn't able to have the time to come see me and I'm not a fan of going to see him in this town. Dewey is busy as Sheriff…Gale is just Gale. When Randy isn't busy, Karla's busy. So why hang around in isolation when I'm not happy?...Stu hasn't came by in over a decade…Maybe…Maybe I'm scared if I leave he'll never find-'

You jolted at the thought. Refusing to even entertain the idea you were staying and waiting for those two.

You groaned and turned the tv off, jerking to turn to face the couch with a grumble. 'God, you need to get a grip. Go join pottery or something. Make a acquaintance at least.'

You went to lay down but caught sight of something between the curtains through the window above the couch. You sat up and pried the curtain back to see no cops in the cop car out front.

'Huh…That's weird.'

You sat up, staring out the window a second before thinking. '...You know what? It's fine. A normal person would ignore it. Let the cops handle it.'

But right when you went to put the curtain back down; you saw across the street Jill and Kirby crying and frantically banging on their window. Your stomach sank as you got your gun out of the lock box you had laying next to the couch. You loaded and called out. "Randy! Randy, somethings happening-" Hoping he'd be awake before you heard Jill and Kirby scream even from inside the house.

'Shit.' You got your gun and went outside, hoping to see the cops but they weren't there. All you heard were two teen girls screaming in terror and a pained scream coming from across the street. No shoes, gun in hand, pajamas on, you got your gun in position and ran towards the house. Jill and Kirby ran outside onto the street, screaming and crying while pointing to the house.

"What? What's happening-"

"YN, he's got Olivia! He's got her!" Kirby exclaimed as Jill gripped onto her. You looked up to see the teenager's body dangling from the side window upstairs as it was dragged back inside. Blood smearing down the siding as you felt like the wind was knocked out of you just watching. Your gut sinking as you saw her fingers try to weakly grab the window…She was still alive. "Fuck…" You whispered with a shaky voice before cocking your gun and yelling at Jill and Kirby. "Stay together and find the cops! Hurry! Don't come into the house no matter what!"

You ran up the porch steps and rushed to the door, trying the handle to see it was locked. You tried breaking it in with your foot but without your boots on it was difficult. You didn't want to waste the bullets so instead you tried to think fast. Grabbing a nearby flower pot instead and shattering the glass on the door before reaching in to unlock it. You didn't hesitate to rush upstairs and try to find her room…Stopping dead in your tracks as you saw blood stains under your feet…Going down the stairs. You almost followed them but you had to check her room first. The second you entered; you felt your knees buckle at the blood soaking her bed, splattered over the walls and her innocent posters and pictures painted with red streaks. You gagged softly, covering your mouth as that overly pungent metallic scent hit your nose. You looked around, gun aimed as you saw the room fully. It made Maureen's murder you witnessed on set in Hollywood look like child's play.

No Ghostface…But even more concerning…Where was the girl?

You went to run out, follow the blood streaking down the stairs to its source but stopped as a ringing sounded in the room. A phone ran on her dresser and you glared at it. It was Olivia's phone right next to her hairbrush… You instantly grabbed it and answered with a growl. "What?"

"Welcome home, YN. Preview of coming events."

You kept yourself guarded, anger welling up inside you this was happening again and innocent kids had to die all because yet another attention whore was desperate to be the next Billy and Stu.

"Why don't you come for me? Think you have the balls for that?" You demanded, gun still aimed in your right hand. Your middle finger was stiff but the trigger finger and other two worked just fine. "Come on out, you fucking pussy ass bitch."

"Oh poor YN; you still think this is about you. You still think you're the star."

"That's because I am. You wouldn't be doing this if I hadn't arrived in Woodsboro. You clearly want my attention. "

"Just so I can watch the old, burnt out star crash to Earth. You're just the audience to act 2. This is where the plot starts to thicken-"

"This isn't a fucking movie!"

"It will be."

"You're not getting away with this. These are innocent people-"

"Spare me the lecture!" The voice yelled before continuing. The persons disguised voice almost purring out the insults with some sadistic glee. "You've done very well by all this bloodshed, haven't you? How about the town you left behind? The people you left behind?...I've got plans for you. I'm gonna slit your eyelids in half so you don't blink when I stab you in the face."

You sneered, gun raised as you looked around the room.

"You'll die when I want you to, YN. Not a moment before. Until then, you're going to suffer."

You scoffed to yourself before hanging up. Hearing Jill call your name downstairs.

"Jill?" You rushed over to stop her from entering the room. "Stay right there! I told you not to come in here!"

"Where's Olivia? Where is she?!" Jill urged, trying to look past you into the room.

"I don't know. Do not look, okay?" You demanded, blocking the doorway.

Jill stepped back and shook her head at you. Tears in her eyes as she gave you an accusing stare. "She said you were The Angel of Death…"

You didn't have time to react or say anything as a Ghostface came out of the closet and went to stab Jill. You whipped her to the side and the knife sliced her forearm as she tumbled down the stairs. Clutching her arm in horror as the killer grabbed you and slammed you against a wall. You brought your gun up to shoot them in the head and they went backwards down the stairs with your shirt clutched between their gloved hand. Flinging you both off the steps and tumbling down to the landing where Jill was.

You hit the ground with a thud while Ghostface scrambled away from you. Kicking your gun out of your grip. You realized and panic set in as you frantically tried looking for it. All while Jill just screamed and got out of the way. Ghostface went to stab you. You were still down on the ground before you kicked them in the head as hard as you could from the landing you laid on. It sent them tumbling down the last flight of steps and crashed on the floor.

"Jill, my gun! Help me!"

You weren't going to hesitate to shoot this fucker right between the eyes and end this. Jill trembled, trying to look around.

You saw an officer charge inside as you yelled at him. "The killers here!"

You finally found your gun on the floor a few feet from Jill. You quickly got it and pointed with your free hand.

"Where is he?" The officer asked. His badge read 'Perkins'.

You turned to point. "Right there-...." Freezing when there was nothing but an empty spot. The backdoor was wide open. You turned back. "H-He was."

Perkins spoke into a walkie as he went to the backdoor.

You turned back to Jill who held her arm, glaring at you with tears in her eyes as you went to ask if she was okay. She shook her head. "Don't."

You stared in shock at her as she slid down the wall. You simply turned away and went outside past a boy you've never met as he rushed by you to comfort her.

You walked out, a few neighbors lights were on as you looked back at the house and had to do a double take. It felt like your heart was sinking deeper and deeper as your heartbeat thumped in your ears. Slowly turning back around to see if what you thought you saw was true…Your face dropped, staring in complete horror before you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth…Flashbacks from that party filtered your brain as her hair hung down and her arms dripped blood to her fingertips. The sickening pattering on the cement underneath her was a reminder of your deceased best friend from 15 years ago…. There was Olivia's corpse. Guts hanging, shoulder at an odd angle and body limp. Shoved through the lifted garage doors pet door.

You stared, knees buckling as you sank to the ground. Staring at the scene as you heard Randy. He ran across the street, trying to put on shoes as he ran.

"YN! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?! WHY ARE YOU HERE?-....Oh fuck." His mouth fell as he stopped dead in his tracks. The same terrified expression on his face that you had as well.

Police sirens sounded down the block as Kirby, Jill and that boy came out. Kirby clutched her mouth and gagged when she saw it as Jill released a sob. The boy you surmised was her boyfriend held her close and took her away from the scene.

Randy helped you stand. "Are you hurt? Are you okay? Why were you in there YN?!... Where's the killer?" He put his hands on your shoulders as you closed your eyes and nodded. "F-Fine. I'm fine…The killer escaped." You swallowed and looked at him. "Get Karla and the kids out of this fucking town by sunrise." He furiously nodded, as you both turned back around to stare at the teenager's corpse. A giant warning and reminder of your past coming back to haunt you.

'...I think it's time to make that phone call.'

[brunchable]

Conflict Resolution Chapter 5 || Surgeon!Strange x F!Reader

Warnings: Coarse Language, Sexual Elements, Medical elements, Arguing, Bickering Pairings: Stephen Strange x Asian!Reader (OC) Summary: Back for yet another counselling session with Dr. Sofen but it ended up in a plush fight between you and Stephen.

A/N: Hello, I am back, for real this time 😭 Sorry to keep everyone waiting. I must say I missed everyone and I missed being here. I am polishing my draft of 2319 and Thurber's Model atm. Trying to spend as much time writing so I can get back on my groove 😭I have no ownership of this story, all credits go to Kate Canterbary for her book, The Worst Guy.

My good girl always did her homework. She couldn't live in a world where she didn't comply fully and confirm to everyone that she was perfect and worthy of the little slice of space she occupied.

That good girl was shaking in her boots as you jogged up the stairs to Karla Sofen's office, right on time for this week's session. The other side of you welcomed the opportunity to show off Strange's epic inflexibility.

Karla was sure to see how that man was impossible. She'd sympathise with you. She had to.

As you exited the stairwell and approached her office, you found Strange leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on Karla's door as if he could force it open by will alone. He wore the same dark blue scrubs as last week and hadn't yet realised his forearms were too profane to flash around these halls. Unfortunate. Someone really needed to talk to him about modesty.

You stopped several feet from him and grabbed your phone. You had no intention of speaking until the session started and you'd divert yourself by any means necessary. Even when the session did get underway, you intended to let Stephen implode and prove your point.

However, "Last chance," he said.

"Excuse you?"

"Last chance, " he repeated with a scowly side-eye. "Still have that index card?"

"You had plenty of opportunities to take advantage of my index card. You chose not to and that was all your decision."

"Hmmm." He crossed his arms over his chest and went on staring at the door. Then, "Hmmm."

"What?" You snapped.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how we're going to end up with another homework assignment because we didn't complete this one."

"I completed my part of this," you argued. "You're the one who couldn't be bothered to write down five little things." He turned his head and proceeded to drag his stare from your sneakers to your (again, still, always) untamed hair.

"And you think that actually matters?"

You shoved your fists into your pockets. "You should've done your part last week. Or at any time prior to this exact moment."

"I'm ready now. Got an index card I can borrow?" Before you could tell him what you thought about lending him anything, Karla swept into the hall, all smiles and silver hair.

"Ah, my friends! You're back for another visit. Come. Inside now, inside." Stephen resumed his spot at the bookshelf and you sat on the sofa, your hands clasped in your lap. Battle stations ready.

"Don't get too comfortable," Karla called from behind her desk. "We won't be sitting today."

She hefted an old milk crate onto her desk. "Playing is much more fun. We don't play enough as grown-ups, do we? It's like we forget how to do it."

"Or, after four years of undergrad, four years of medical school, another four or so years of residency, and then a year or two of fellowship, you have a bunch of socially stunted, sleep-deprived teenagers who know how to cut people open but not how to take a day off," Stephen said. "Comes with the territory, wouldn't you agree?"

She chuckled at him. "I call it job security."

With a fond smile for each of you, Karla carried the crate to the coffee table. "As I said, we'll be playing today." She beckoned to both of you, adding, "Up. On your feet."

You stood, shrugged out of your white coat, and draped it over the arm of the sofa. When you turned back toward Stephen and Karla, you were greeted with a decidedly masculine snort. You threw what the fuck? hands at him but he shook his head with a slight laugh.

You went on glaring until he said, "It's nothing. Just"—he glanced down at your t-shirt, the one that read Running On and the chemical structure of ATP, the stuff that carried energy in cells—"nothing. Forget it."

"And forget we shall," Karla said as she plucked a squishy ball emblazoned with a pharmaceutical company's logo from the crate. "Since this is not my first visit to the circus, I am not going to ask you about the homework from our last session. We'll play our game and have fun instead. All right?"

"This is obviously a trap," Strange said. You ran your palms over your thighs, knowing he was right about that yet completely unwilling to tell him as much.

"Trap? From me? No," Karla drawled. "I'd never." She tossed the ball from hand to hand. "All I want you to do is play a game of catch but do have a care for my plants. The string of pearls needs only a slight invitation to fall apart, and while the pothos looks hardy, it offends easily."

She lobbed the ball to you. "Ainsley. Start us off. My one rule is we don't let the ball hit the floor."

"And if we do?" Strange asked.

"You won't," she said.

"If we do?" he repeated.

With a deep grin, she said, "Embrace the challenge, Stephen, even if you don't know what might come of it." It started out simple, just you and Stephen throwing pharma swag back and forth across Karla's office. But then she reached into the crate and retrieved a plush pineapple.

"Let's add this one," she said. "Stephen, you're up." He caught the pineapple after sending the ball to you. It took both of you a few tries to get the rhythm right but you got there while Karla slathered on the praise.

Stephen wanted no part of that. He narrowed his eyes or locked his jaw every time she acknowledged both of you for playing along. All of that was annoying enough but he did it while flaunting those damn arms at you too. Terribly rude of him.

Then, she said, "It's too quiet in here. Let's have a little chat."

"And there's the trap," he muttered.

"Now, Stephen," she started, clearly enjoying his misery, "where is Ainsley from?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Hell, probably."

You winged the pineapple at him hard. He had to stumble backward to catch it.

"And Ainsley," Karla said, "where is Stephen from?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say a defective condom."

The pineapple struck your shoulder and you had to flail a bit to grab it before it hit the floor. You glared at him with as much heat and violence as you could summon. He rotated the squishy ball in his palm as if he was finding the right grip just as you shot the pineapple back at him. The ball landed square on your chest.

"Lovely, lovely," Karla sang. "Stephen, what is Ainsley's favourite colour?"

"Necrotic kidney," he said, spiking the pineapple high over your head. You barely caught it, and ended up with your t-shirt half untucked.

"Ainsley, your turn—"

"Anything infected with C. diff," you replied, putting all your weight behind sending that stupid pineapple to his scowly face.

"Oh, god," he groaned, catching the toy as it bounced off him. "Not fair, Park. Intestinal bacterium is out of bounds. Don't make me think about that. I'm gonna gag."

"Next question," Karla called. "Ainsley, did Stephen have any pets as a child?"

The ball connected with your thigh as you said, "They all ran away."

Before he was prompted, Stephen said, "You're the one who can summon monsters with your screeching. It must be difficult with yetis and the Chupacabra and the Loch Ness monster showing up all the time. Do they stay for dinner?"

The pineapple hit your other leg as you scrambled to catch it and throw back the ball without either touching the floor. The ball connected low on his torso and his eyes flared as he caught hold of it. These toys were small and light but you were breathing hard and sweating from this activity, and so was Stephen.

"Let's move on to siblings," Karla said.

"You can find Strange's on a true crime podcast," you said, aiming the pineapple at his jaw.

"As victims?" he asked. "Or killers?"

The squishy ball connected with your loose bun and half your hair slipped free from the tie but there was no time to stop and fix it. "Does it matter?"

"A bit," he yelled. "Am I the murderer? Are they? Come on! Get your game right, Park. Don't fall apart on me now. If you're taking these shots, you better shoot to kill."

"Then, yeah. You're the serial killer here."

"Thank you," he shouted.

"Stephen," Karla started, "tell us about Ainsley's—"

"You mean the Children of the Corn?"

"Very inventive," you said, sending the ball to his jaw again.

"Better than a serial killer," he replied, nailing your thigh with the pineapple.

"Really, though?" You argued. "I don't see how corn-harvest murderers are any different. Do better."

With an eye roll, he turned to Karla. "Do you have anything harder?"

You took that opportunity to fire the pineapple right at his chiselled cheek. His head snapped back and the pineapple rolled under the coffee table. There was a full second where he was stunned silent.

But then he rounded on you, his signature scowl replaced with a flat, open-mouthed stare that was many, many times more dangerous than any other look he'd ever sent your way. At the exact same second, both of you dived for the crate and grabbed all the ammunition you both could carry and let loose on each other. Plush toys, bouncy balls, stress balls, tennis balls, every variety of pharma swag—it was a wild, hiccuping blur of hits and throws.

"You just don't know when to stop," Stephen shouted, an eggplant stress toy with the brand name of an erectile dysfunction drug printed on it flying from his hand.

"And you do?" You cried, throwing two miniature frisbees. "You could've stopped this shit last week but you didn't!"

"Oh, because I wouldn't fall in line with your precious little terms?" A series of three hard bouncy balls ricocheted off your thigh. They were going to leave a mark. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"I was trying to make this easier on everyone," you yelled.

"And who the fuck asked you to do that?" he countered, whipping a small cactus plush at your face. "I don't need you looking after me. If I need to staple a fucking laceration, I'll staple it—and just so you know, I'm fully aware that staples aren't right in every case. I fucking agree with you but you're too busy force-feeding me to even hear that and—"

"You're too condescending to force-feed," you said.

"You are relentless," he panted, his eyes flashing with heat and his jaw locked in the most stern, severe line.

Before you could reply, Karla placed herself in the middle of the skirmish, her hands out. "You're both relentless—or do you not notice it in yourselves the way you see it in each other? That happens more than you think. It's similar to the way our eyes can see our nose but our brain instructs us to ignore it."

She gathered the toys where they'd landed all around. "Thank god my string of pearls was spared in this skirmish. Small mercies," she said under her breath. "For your homework this week, I'd like you to think about that. Your commonalities—and why they trouble you so much." She dumped the toys into the crate as Stephen and you looked on.

Both of you were still breathing heavily, clothes dishevelled and your hair wilder than ever as you glowered at each other. You weren't going to say he'd started it—though he did—or pretend he'd been the only one to deliver snarky, juvenile comments.

But the way he'd looked at you as he'd said you were relentless, the way he'd stared you down as if he was the only one who could call the terms of this war—it made you crazy enough to want to grab that pineapple and the eggplant and pelt him with them until he begged you for mercy.

Karla glanced between you. "That will be all for today."

With that, you grabbed your white coat and bolted out of there. You didn't need to be asked twice and you didn't need another minute with that man trying to stare your skin off.

Tags: @winsteria @classicrebound @gwephen @patbrdac @goldencherriess @elizabethdarcy29 @strangeobsessed @strangelockd @lady-harvey @mirikusashes @rbymoon @k1mikoz @allie131313 @strangesthirdeye @nicoletk @sleutherclaw @dragonqueen89 @bloodyxsaint @3443652 @pinkthick @iamdedsthingz @casualimaginesfluffwagon @im-akira @faltinestrange @ilikedarkrai @alicia-c37 @phatm00d @xunquish-blog @keistange @omgstarks @jotaros-bara-tiddies @gaitwae @sherlux

[taanoir]

They met up at the diner for coffee. They talked Casinos, Oasis Springs, politics and Anton made some suggestions on getting into a property. Anton slipped Bernie a business card for his real estate firm.

The card resulted in a fixer upper. The former residents were more interested in gambling than the house, which is also how they lost it. It was too small and needed work but it wasn't a hotel.

Anton had also suggested selling this one for a profit after they did the repairs. Bernie had also put money down on a new house that was being built.

He had a contractor come in and make some cosmetic changes before they moved in. New carpet and some paint nothing earth shattering, just a clean slate.

In June 1950, they started unloading the truck of the stuff they brought from Brindelton. Bernie was having furniture delivered in the coming days, for now they were living out of boxes.

It was that first day that they ran into Karla. She lived across the street and was steamed that the moving truck had run over her plants.

Bernie tried to calm her down, he apologized and promised to pay for her plants. He was happy to see a familiar face, even an angry one.

While Bernie grabbed a check book Karla steamed. Evie unsuccessfully tried to make small talk but she was not receptive. Evie decided maybe it would be better to save small talk for another day.

[ashandboneca]

So I wrote on this day last year.

I was gutted when I found out that someone I had known for 8 years was a TERF. We had been involved in the same witchcraft tradition. She had given no signs, until she did. I wrote this to process my feelings and hurt.

She was talking about Alok, FWIW, who has said some pretty problematic shit.

This is long, bear with me.

Here's my question:

Do you think it is up to the members of marginalized communities to disavow and call out members of their own communities? For example, if a trans person says some shitty, abhorrent things is it up to the members of the trans/gender diverse community to call them out and hold them accountable? And to who's standard do we hold them accountable to?

I ask because part of the issue I dealt with this morning was around the behaviour of a problematic non binary person saying some very abhorrent shit. I pointed out that the fact that they were trans had nothing to do with their harmful words - but it was being used as justification of saying "i support trans people, but..". My point is that we can focus on the real harm they are doing without having it reflect on their identity as a representative of their entire community.

It's the same shit the Muslim community has been dealing with for more than 20 years in the west, that Black folks and Indigenous folks have been dealing with forever. Every time a Black person or a Muslim or an Indigenous person says something or does something awful, members and leaders of those marginalized groups are expected to stand up and speak to wyt folks to allay their worries. 'Don't worry, that's not who we are, etc etc'. Yet how long has the Catholic Church sat on allegations of abuse and CSA? Are wyt folks expected to stand up and speak to all marginalized communities and say 'it's okay, that's not who we are, etc etc'? Of course not.

Because if we start doing that for marginalized folks, you better believe that the cis-het community had better start combing news stories to personally disavow every single bad thing a cis-het person has ever done, lest they represent their whole community. Every cis woman needs to disavow Mary K Letourneau and Casey Anthony and Karla Homolka etc etc. Publically. Except... no, they don't, because those women do not represent all cis women. We, as a collective community regardless of gender should disavow those people because they are terrible predators, regardless of their identity.

I was told that I was being picky about language, that I was belittling someone for telling them that their language was an issue. I was told that I was playing the victim. I had allyship demanded from the 'AFAB women and girls', but when I stated that allyship is not conditional, I was told allyship was problematic. The phrase 'AFAB women and girls' would technically include trans men, which I don't think they would be keen to be included in and raised some red flags. It's a TERF dog whistle.

Anyway. I slept on it and I'm still angry and hurt. I'm interested in your thoughts.

Here are the screenshots. I am the purple dot.

[notallfay]

How playing Fallout 4 with my young niece is going:

She's had to be stopped waking me in the morning before she goes to school, because she really wants to play. And she wants to play every night before her Mum gets her back.

She super gets the concept of looting the bodies, and shouts enthusiastically about doing it. Even if I'm being shot at.

"Are you dying them Auntie Karla?"

I get sound effects to the killing. And sarcastic comments like, "Oh, I can't walk now," if I chop off enemy legs and things...

Her censored swearing when we're in a bit of trouble is beautiful. She's shouting "Sugar" in the exact same way an adult would swear.

Dogmeat is the absolute best to her. She keeps saying I need more doggos, and does not like I've only got too. Also PROTEC DOGMEAT AT ALL COSTS.

She thinks Dogmeat is cute for stepping on our fallen foes!????

She shames me for not cleaning the raider bedrooms. And "why do people let their houses get in this state,"

Rocket Bins, lockers, and lights everywhere!! She loves them.

"You'll have to teach me how to play Auntie Karla, so I can get it for my Switch," with my Dad asking is that possible, and I'm like no Dad it's an 18.

She is getting a sugar coated version of the game. Like I tell her a really bad war did this, and we're trying to fix the world and help people, and give them a nice place to live.

Mostly I'm just building settlements with her, unless she asks to explore. It's what she loves the most. I do to some extent try and control what she sees. And if I think certain quests are too scary, I do them when she is not there.

She's cool with killing bad guys though, because she has asked questions in a curious kid way, and I've told her it's okay because in computer games they're not really dead. It's why we come back to life when we die, because it's not real.

I answer questions and talk to her about anything she asks in general. So I know she's cool with the level of playing the game.

[fairlyqualityanon]

Howdy 🤠

You do be cool friendo, who scares me, but always makes me laugh with comments or memes. XD

Also because I'm a menace: ✒️

AND A RANDOM WEIRD QUESTION: What animal do you associate with all your OC's, like if you had to pick one animal that you think fit them right what would it be for them and why, home skillet?

Bonus question: Which Oc would you invite to a Movie night? And which Oc would you never want to meet? (If you have one you don't want too).

HAVE A FANTASTICAL DAY MY FRIENDO!

But like... HOW? WHY? None of you have met me IRL let alone heard me speak. (Edit: as of late March 8 now some have lol)

Thanks for making me think! ^_^

friendo moot

you’re my friend <3

I need to interact with you every day to remain sane

love seeing you on my tl

you scare me

full stops at the end of all sentences

intimidating but actually nice

ia for weeks on end

no shitposts

Thanks I guess?? no srsly how am I scary?

Send me ✒️ and I’ll write your URL in my handwriting along with a little note about what I think of you!

Damn you I can’t write this out at work but that’s where my nice pen is!

What animal do you associate with your OCs?

Rikard: European badger - they look like they’ll politely invite you for afternoon tea meanwhile American badgers have the rep of "gas station crackhead"

Karla: hedgehog - the babies are super cute but their spikes quickly harden, also they apparently love cuddles??

Rachel: capybara - chill and cuddly and unproblematic and just vibes with everyone

Sam: ferret - hyper and mischievous and also surprisingly cuddly

Dave: manul (aka “IRL Grumpy Cat”) - very talented hunters but also loners, have been observed apparently cooperating with snow leopards as their predators are the leopards’ prey

Jack: chinchilla - just a silly boi, a polite fellow

Simael: octopus - smart, arms are kind of like a flexible tail?, punches fish ‘for no reason’ but current theory is it trains the fish they cooperate with by punishing thieves

Twoey: a corvid (crows and ravens) - clever and enjoy puzzles but childlike, very attracted to shiny objects also Twoey eventually gets a sort of satchel/sideways-saddle to travel with Simael and it’s like a perch

Bryce: orca or dolphin or smth - they wake up and choose violence daily

Glissenda: monotreme (echidna and platypus) - wtf are you sure that's even real?? Like no joke it exists??

Movie Night?

Obviously I wouldn’t invite Bryce or Julie because they are objectively horrible people.

I’d invite Rikard, not because he’s my favorite but because he’s the most chill. Jack, Sam, and Rachel would want to talk, Karla can hardly sit still, Dave has Resting Bitch Vibe... Nikolas might be a fun movie date partner though. Twoey would need a lot of cultural stuff explained, and so would Simael but he’s a quick learner and asks insightful questions.

[dryspaghetto]

Another Love Story. Performing Intimacy, 2022, by Karla Hiraldo Voleau

"Another Love Story reveals' her most personal work to date. Initially, the project was conceived as a romantic tribute to love, describing how the artist and a previous partner (known as 'X' for anonymity) found their way back to each other after a four-year separation. The project was then radically reimagined when she discovered that X had a double life and was living with another woman. The revelations prompted a profound disruption of her inner and outer world. She was left confronting the difficult reality of finding herself dispossessed in her own story. "Things were starting to not feel right, " explains Hiraldo Voleau. This led her to call his ex-girlfriend, (in the script 'Elle'), out of the blue. "It was one year after we got back together, and I wanted to ask her why she was still in contact with my boyfriend". She replied, 'Well, he's my boyfriend too. I live with him. I've been his girlfriend for four years. We are trying to have a baby'." In an attempt to reconcile this trauma and reclaim her story, Hiraldo Voleau metabolises the break-up by retelling it. Using a combination of original images and re-enactments created with an actor, she visualises the transformation from the couple's initial explosion of love and sensuality, to the painful distance and tension as things fall apart. Together these fragments of the relationship become proof of its existence. Hiraldo Voleau initially worked with an actor for legal reasons, but the act of making the work together ultimately emancipated her from her former lover. Discovering that your partner has a double life makes you question everything. You start wondering who's who? Who was this man? What was real? My only way to move forward was to reclaim my voice and my narrative by making this project."

Another Love Story is presented chronologically in 13 panels of images, one for each month of the rekindled romance. Mimicking an Instagram feed, Hiraldo Voleau reflects upon the staging of love and photography's slippery role as the unreliable witness. It lays bare the social contract to memorialise our relationships online, the pressure to perpetuate perfection and the chokehold of keeping up appearances. In the spaces between each panel, we gain access to Hiraldo Voleau's dramatic and revelatory conversation with A. Presented as a script, it complicates and contradicts the images while reinforcing the performative nature of romance. On the surface, Another Love Story is about unlikely personal transformations and what drives people to heal, reclaim themselves and bounce back after heartbreak. But the project's real work teases out the visceral and vital agency of women's desire and pain and how talking about it is perhaps the primary way to survive it." Extract from the British Journal of Photography Love / Ukraine issue, 2022 - written by Gem Fletcher.

[msookyspooky]

SPOOKY! Absolutely *loved* the newest chapter of Fours a Franchise-and things are picking up for y/n! Her and relationship with Randy and Karla and the kids so so sweet and I laughed when they talked about Randy introducing the kids to horror movies early😂.

And how Randy complains about the remakes and everything and how that fits in so well with Fours a Franchise and Scream 4. I laughed when Randy complained about the remake of ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ because the actor for Vince Schneider is in that and is who I use as the FC for ‘a little mad sometimes’😂.

(Kinda curious about how Billy feels about all the remakes and reboots 😂)

I was tearing up when she was thinking and then talking with Randy about how she lost her chance when Mark died in front of her.

And how everything she presents (the book deals, the tours, the make up and outfits) is really just a mask and my heart broke for her when she compares her life right now to Randy’s. That she will always be seen as the Final Girl, Suspect, and Killer all wrapped into one😭.

And then the first kill happens and Randy, get Karla and the kids somewhere safe-NOW. And I felt sos cared for y/n and Randy and I knew Randy had the old trauma resurfacing as well because they remember Tatum.

And y/n ready to make that one phone call! I cannot wait for Billy and Stu to inevitably show back up to where it all began!😊

(Also, that self rb of the ‘Lost Boys’ had me realize I had a whole fic idea (now on the back burner and deep within my google docs) about a witch!y/n and the Lost Boys meeting about 1-1/2 years before the vents of the movie, and that fic eventually crossed over with Scream 1996 and it was a whole thing with a full timeline and plot points-but I never got around to actually writing it😂.)

Omg ur right!! He did play in The remake I knew ur face claim looked familiar!! And lolol u can't tell me Randy in canon would be for remakes especially ones of things he grew up loving and seeing them 'butchered' in his eyes ☠️

For sure, Randy seems both the least traumatized and the most other than Sidney in Scream 2. It's like he denies it and is terrified so he's cracking jokes at Sid or doing impersonations or having fun guessing suspects....But then when shit starts getting real? He's gripping the stone he's sitting on at the park, making uneasy facial expressions, gets irritated easily with Gale's phonecall and IF THAT BOY WOULDN'T HAVE PUSHED PAST HIS FEAR TO CLAPBACK AT THE KILLER HE'D STILL BE HERE 😭😤 But srsly, it's so obvious he has trauma from everything and he's just as scared as Sid in canon he just copes differently. So I'm so glad I captured him showing what YN felt w/o the Randy pov!

Yeah I've been in a people pleasing dress to impress phase as YN and it's the most miserable I ever was. So ik seeing her two friends live lives she wants to but can't while unintentionally leaving her behind hurts sm 💔💔💔

IF U EVER WRITE THAT LOST BOYS STORY AFAIN LET ME KNOW I LOVE THE IDEA OF A WITCH YN WITH THEM!!

[trolltitan]

Oh, So All Men Are the Problem Now? Let's Talk Facts!

Ready for a royal dose of sarcasm?

Oh would you look at that, Anonymous people talking about men being a problem. Sure, it's easy to lump half the population into a single negative category, but let’s get real. The world isn't as black and white as some want to paint it.

Misandry due to misogyny? Sounds catchy, but it's a lazy excuse. If we want to address real issues, how about we stop playing the blame game? Newsflash: there are plenty of men fighting against misogyny every day. Ignoring them only fuels division.

Need proof that bad behavior isn't exclusive to men? Look at Aileen Wuornos, Myra Hindley, Elizabeth Báthory, Karla Homolka, or Irma Grese. These ladies give the boogeyman a run for his money. Evil doesn’t discriminate, folks. Oops didn't mean to ruin the narrative.

Instead of spreading fear, why not promote actual solutions? It’s time to ditch the outdated “all men are bad” narrative and recognize that both genders have their good and bad apples. Let’s aim for progress, not more pointless drama.

So, are we gonna keep whining, or are we gonna do something about it?

The Troll King has spoken! 👑

You are 100% right about your take on men. There are some very good men in the world, but looking at the group as a whole, there’s something off there. I don’t know a single woman who hasn’t had an uncomfortable/dangerous interaction with a man. People telling you that you need to examine your beliefs on this matter are the ones who should take a look at themselves. Love your blog

God, finally someone who understands my point. I want to believe that there are some good men but I'm still gonna look over my shoulder whenever I walk alone at night.

Women have every right to hate men. Misandry only exists due to misogyny. I've never seen a man trying to fight against misandry in real life but I deal with misogyny on my daily basis. That's the difference.

Anyway, take care and have a beautiful day 💕