#so fuck it. im a villain and then im alone and then im written out of the narrative in favor of someone not intolerable and miserable

[neo-shitty]

finally catching up with bsd after one hell of a month (+ midterms) 🫠

[gaystardykeco]

being miserable for only reasons that are entirely my own fault is actually so funny like if this was a tv show itd absolutely be one of the ones where the main character (me) is such a piece of shit causing all their own problems that the audience gets joy from seeing them reap the consequences and suffer

[s-4pphics]

soul ties. part I (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: a product of brokenness. WORD COUNT: 13.4K WARNINGS: ellie’s a painter/art dealer, heavy angst[oc is suicidal and has dissociative episodes + abusive parents/SEXUAL ABUSE(nothing explicitly written but aluded to) + patriarchy/men being predatory/traditionalist households + mentions of cheating + alcoholism + disordered eating/self-harm(cuticle picking) + thoughts of murder + mommy issues/daddy issues + parental grief + homophobia + more patriarchy but with dykes + unhealthy relationships with sex(coping) + brief mention of masturbation + sexual tension + making out + fondling + slapping + DUBCON + just matching freaks to avoid trauma], miscommunication, just 2 socially inept crash outs lol  A/N: hellloo lol. fixed plot bc im venting… s been a very rough few months. i was convinced i lost my very acute skill so uhhh consider this a test. uhh what else… idk when i’ll be back bc im now a piano player #NEWFOUNDESCAPISM LOL.  suggestion: this technically could b read alone but if u care ab context read this first. then this. that is all LOL byeee :p hi taggies we back: @dyk3ang3l @acidblum @mellifluousgirll @elliesatchel @callmewhenyoukan @natgf123 @elliesstella @spaceforescape @floridaopal @lonelyfooryouonly @ellies-converse @amiorca @darkerstarsstuff

fuck the bitch that made this game.  dont buy his shit.

aid links from my inbox: one, two, three, four

What to do, what to do… 

Ellie is a wreck. An agitated, craving, mess. 

What to do… Love your wife, fuck the daylights out of your wife, kill your wife before she kills you… What to do… 

It can’t be that hard to hide a body. Is it still murder if it’s self-defense? Ellie’s sure the next bath you run for her will either be filled with bleach or result in her being forced underwater until she’s lifeless. There are lots of people willing to get their hands dirty for her if that’s the case. Not a trace of you or her would be left and she’d finally be able to escape with only the clothes on her back. The weightlessness in her pockets wouldn’t move her in any way. Nothing compares to freedom. What a suffocating life she lives. 

The guest room mattress becomes less and less plush every time she lays in it. The sheets are itchier and cold and she’s stuck pondering with each swirl of the ceiling fan, wet hair wrapped in a bath towel; restless, fidgety, and honey-like ache in the pit of her stomach, mind warped with lecherous thoughts of her wife that she despises but not as much, her supposed life partner and fuck, how did you two get here…

Stuck with a tension so thick it permeates your home; if you’d even call it that. You’re both successfully trapped between your own walls; Elegant windows take the place of rusted, metal bars that confine you from the life you both dreamed of before all this; one soft and doting and colorful, one where your light isn’t dulled. 

Why does she feel so guilty, suddenly? You’re not lovers, and neither in love, so why does her chest ache with every glance she steals when you’re unassuming? The pain that’s always etched on your face, and if not, in your eyes — fills her with regret. She would abandon you for days — weeks at a time, not at all concerned about what you might be experiencing to rid herself of shame. And to think that you were merely a younger version of your mother; villainous and cruel and greedy when… when you’ve barely spoken. She finds herself, unfortunately, reminiscing on how bushy-tailed you were after marriage. So eager to please and prick her mind and annoyingly mechanical. You cooked at the same time everyday. Cleaned, did both your laundry, sunbathed, swam in your pool. She hated how rehearsed your lifestyle was; it reminds her of the worst parts of her childhood. When her mother was alive. So, Ellie chose to step out on you the second you took her last name; ravaged other women, released her anger and desires on strangers when she should’ve had you beneath, above, on your knees for her. Where has that craving to harm you gone? For months, she’s ached for your suffering to mirror hers, but now… What’s happening to her? What’s happened to you? 

Ellie believes you’ve lost it, and somehow she’s found herself chasing that unforeseen part of you; unfiltered and angry and wild. This manufactured doll your mother molded you into is shattering at the core and Ellie craves to see more of you. Guilty. As hurt as you were, that night was the most alive she’s seen you be. You shouted and cried and tore at the seams, desperate for someone to hear you, and Ellie did. Loud and clear. She saw you for what you are. Mangled from the inside out, entirely hopeless. Just like she is. An unspeakable link that binds the two of you.

Soul ties. 

She shook and pleaded for you to enter the bathroom and see her battered against the shower wall with a hand between her legs and your name dripping from her lips, but the knob never twisted. Her orgasms were unsatisfactory, and she accepted with irritation that it was because you weren’t there. She ignored the throbbing between her legs and vacated the bathroom. Ellie, with legs that trembled, found you wrapped in satin and snoring. They sounded like whistles. 

She stood for a while, just watching you twitch and wiggle in your rest, eyes glazing to the space beside you that could easily fit another body. The sheets are already warm from where you lay. The two of you have never slept in the same room, let alone bed. 

Her feet carried her out. Silently left the room with an unfamiliar ache in her chest. 

Her mind made an enemy out of you because that’s what you are. When she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, you appeared and destroyed everything in her path. Left her world in ruins. Disrupted her pattern. You’re an enemy and deserve to hurt. 

Aren’t you? Don’t you? 

Everything is unclear. Ellie hasn’t been this conflicted since she was 15. She wishes she could sleep forever so she wouldn’t be forced to think. 

If she had any sense left, she would paint her agony away. In the past, her mind would shut down with every splash of color on a canvas to compensate for the darkness that conjured in her mind. She refrains from that now, though. She’s horny; scared she’ll start imagining what your pussy looks like and sketch it all over the bedroom walls. That’d be too much; a boundary that will remain untouched.

But her brain knows she’s not a good person; she can’t help but imagine how gorgeous your pussy is because you are and she’s known that since the beginning, the second she saw you drenched in white. Drenched in sorrow. 

She clutches your wedding band in her palm. 

What to do… what to do… 

Birds are artists. 

They never fail to sing every morning; sonnets aimed to awaken life as sun rays spill from behind mountains. You've always appreciated their tunes whenever you were pulled from a hollow rest, no longer surrounded by darkness. 

Maybe it was the routine your mother set for you from young. You were 9 when she first coddled your drowsiness as she shook you awake at five in the morning; the early bird catches the worm, a saying you naively assumed as preparation for the day, for your homeschooling. An energy booster, possibly. Motivation. Something to get you through. 

How stupid could a child be? 

You were 12 when your cycle started. You were 12 when you realized that your mother never envisioned actual birds and worms like you had. Your mother has games she plays and she cheats. She’s had you on a leash for the past decade; the scars around your neck are forever a reminder of the hell you’ve endured under her hand. It took no effort on her part to be uncaring of your suffering, and somehow that aches more than anything else. 

Even more than the existence of him. A demon walking.

Animals aren’t like your family. Birds aren’t. The minute specks of sunlight begin, their job starts, and they complete it happily without compensation or praise or the slightest acknowledgment. Everyone wakes, and they fly to anywhere to wake the next. 

But wealth is dirty. Wealth makes people dirty. They swindler and lie and experience life with a vacancy that’ll never be filled with anything but greed. Your mother trained you for years to accept whatever was given as long as you were taken care of. Play your part, she’d say. It took you years to learn her strategy — and unlearn yourself — but you’re here. Married. Successful by association. Rich. Unhappy. Unloved. 

Birds guided you. They never shy from their duty, and you hadn’t either… 

But you’re human. You crack and cry and scream and you hate. You despise so strongly that you lash out and everything in your path becomes victimized. Sometimes it gets to a point where you crave blood. You want to drown in it, drink it until you’re sick. Your soul is dead. Everyones’ should die with yours. 

You don’t know who should go first. Your mother, your stepfather, or your wife. 

You want to swallow Ellie whole—

“Good morning.” 

You’ve never seen Ellie not dolled up. She clearly just awakened with her wrinkled MILFS ONLY shirt and sporadic hair. Timidity doesn’t suit Ellie. You're so used to seeing her exasperated. Her weary eyes don’t meet yours. You should tell her your plans to adopt a hummingbird. Or maybe you shouldn’t. She might laugh at you.

“Hello.” 

“… Hi.” She seems like she wants to say something. You sip your coffee. 

“My dad called.” 

You hum around the rim of your mug. “Woke you up?” 

She merely shrugs. “I uh… did anyone tell you about tomorrow?” 

“Of course not.” 

You don’t expect Ellie to flinch at your tone. You weren’t that sharp, were you?

You might’ve been because she slows her speech. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “Dad’s hosting a dinner. Corporate bullshit but we have to go.” 

“Why.” 

She squints at you. “Why what.” 

“Why do we have to go.” Your mug lands on the table harder than expected. 

“To make mommy and daddy look good.” She sneers while approaching her seat, “Did you forget?” 

“I just thought they wouldn’t want two dykes contaminating their spaces anymore.” 

Ellie snorts. “They don’t. Companies do. Gets their cocks hard. Two gay daughters, how progressive!” She mocks and plops on the chair directly across from you, wiping at her eyes. Your throat dries when you notice her wedding band. She hardly ever wears it. You don’t know where you left yours. Since when does she care to wear it? “They’ll do anything they can to get on their good side. They’re… merging organizations or whatever the fuck he said.” 

She swallows. Shrugs uncaringly, “We going?” Her eyes watch your hands squeeze your mug. 

“Are we.” 

She regards your cup with caution. Does she think you’ll throw it? The thought nearly makes you laugh. 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Okay.” 

Your wife finally looks up and stands, nose upturned, “Okay? That’s all you got?” 

“Yes. Okay.” You sip silently. Your foot taps on hardwood. 

“Excited to see your family? You like ‘em now?” 

Excited is laughable. 

“No, I don’t.” 

The sudden calamity from your wife confuses you. She tugs at the strands that flop on her head in agitation. They look soft as they bounce with her pacing. You’ll never feel them. Or you might later. Who knows with her. Who knows with you. 

Ellie’s still talking. Her arms flail like she’s annoyed by you. You’re not sure why. You’re following. You’re allowing her to guide. To control. That’s the entire point of this. That’s why you’re going to dinner with her. She told you to go and that’s it. 

Play your part play your part play yo—

You don’t remember much of anything; the past, the present, but you recall what Ellie sounds like when she’s angry, whether it’s at you, her father, the woman her father is fucking or married to or whatever. If you’d listen, you’ll discover what ticked her off, but your ears ring too loud. Much louder than her screaming. 

You sip your coffee silently. Ellie leaves you at the dining table with a slam of a door. 

You think it’s the first floor’s guest room. 

The sun sets. Ellie can’t remember the last time she’s been home this long. 

She hates the weekends. The gallery is never open and she can’t drown herself in deals. She hates being home when you are. Why the fuck are you always here? You don’t have friends, a job, a life outside of this goddamn house? There’s a sinking in her stomach at the thought of your isolation, but she ignores it. Tries to ignore it.

… Can’t really ignore it. How pestering. You’re a pest. 

She knows nothing about you, only bits of your past expressed through photographs at your mother’s or outbursts in your bedroom. Your stepfather is fucking creepy and your mother’s glare is killer, but that’s about it. Still, she doesn’t think she can hate your parents more than you. 

You’re so fucking weird. Just like them. Unforgiving and unchaste one day then apathetic the next. How the fuck can one communicate with a person like that? 

That feeling in her chest again. Sharp and annoying. Try try try, it says. Begs from her. 

Try and do what? Do fucking what—

It took Ellie 3 seconds to unlock the guest room door and fly down the stairs when a crash rings from the first floor. Glass clatters and you sound in pain and oh fuck did someone break in

There’s red all over the kitchen floor but it’s not blood it’s red wine. Red wine red wine it’s not blood— 

You’re on the kitchen floor surrounded by green shards and dressed so pretty. Hair coiled and free and your face is done up and you’re wearing flowers. There’s flowers all over and your skin shines and why do you have heels on like a play doll?

Ellie palms at the scattered racing of her heart. Everything’s fine, her brain blares, She tripped, that’s it. Clears her throat. Rustles her hair to appear normal. 

She’s not dead. 

“… You good?” 

An unsteady hand rises to throw her a thumbs up. Your body wobbles when you attempt to stand. Ellie ushers to the counter to slide on her slippers, tells you to stop when your palm nearly plants on a shard. 

“Move back before you hurt yourself.” Ellie takes a quick lap around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. Finds you just as quickly so you don’t accidentally slice an artery. 

Your lashes flutter and her heart follows suit, taking in the mess. “I think I fucked up.” You croak.

Hearing you curse is always odd. She huffs, “It’s fine. Can you stand?” 

Your head shakes and your bottom lip juts. “My… my shoes…”

You slowly plop onto your bottom and rest your back against the dishwasher. You struggle to grip your buckles to pull and slide the strap and Ellie remembers why she hates heels. She sweeps the glass away from you and realizes she should’ve mopped first because the bristles are soaked and streaking the clean parts of the crystal porcelain. When was the last time she cleaned? The maids always do. Sometimes you help. 

You look stunned when Ellie moves to squat in front of you. Jumps back when she adjusts your ankle. 

Her palms hang in surrender, “I’m gonna help you. Relax. Do your knees hurt?” 

You landed right on them. They should. You don’t disarm, eyes guarded and body locked tight, but you shrug. It’s good enough for Ellie. 

She unravels the buckles around both your ankles and tosses them next to you and you just watch. Ellie’s glances are quick and flitting, but she follows the traces of her hands; the sharp inhales whenever her fingers brush against the skin of your leg. You’re not as close as you were last night but she can smell you. Her chest is throbbing. You look like you’re about to cry but you’re drunk. It’s meaningless. Drunk people cry. 

Try try try try 

“Can you stand now?” She croaks. 

It takes a second for you to register her inquiry, but you shrug, and she sighs. When Ellie stands, both her hands extend out to you, but you don’t accept them; She gets jittery under your scrutinizing gaze after nearly a minute passes. Her throat dries and her face burns when you brush her hands away; standing on your own is an unstable journey, but you do, back against the counter to stabilize yourself. You look ill. Your brain must be jumbled. 

“Can you get upstairs on your own?” 

“You talk a fucking lot. Shut up.”  

The corner of Ellie’s mouth rises, but she says nothing. Gives you space to move. 

You take one step, then two more, then your eyes shut and your throat jumps. Uh oh.

“Oh shit, come—“

Ellie guides you to the garbage can near the front of the counter, away from the glass, and you dry heave. Liquid splatters inside the can and Ellie hates this so fucking much. The sounds are enough to make her own stomach lurch. It’s been a while since she’s been around someone this drunk. 

But she holds your waist so you don’t faceplant into your own vomit. 

“Get it out,” She hums with a grimace, “You’re fine.” An I gotcha almost rolls off her tongue but she catches it. She glides a comforting hand over your curved spine because you’re drunk and you won’t remember such gestures in the morning. She prefers it that way. 

You’re not gagging anymore so Ellie removes herself from you. Until she hears a whimper. And a sob so quiet she assumes you’re trying to mask it. Drunk people cry; she’s seen it countless times. Why does that seering feeling spark in her chest for what felt like the billionth time today? Fucking try, for fucks sake! 

“Let’s… let’s get you—“

“I wish I was dead.” 

Your prayer is hollow. Not even sad despite your tears. So, so empty. Ellie’s seen this before, experienced that nothingness countless times, but despite it all, she never learned how to console. Hell, she barely knows how to self-soothe without falling victim to her dark temptations. Even her paint brushes can’t eliminate the constant ache she feels. She just watches the tremble of your shoulders from behind. 

“I really don’t wanna go tomorrow.” You whisper. 

Ellie sighs. There’s no other choice. You know the stakes; follow your families’ commands or lose everything at the drop of a hat. They’ll leave you both on the streets to rot with no remorse if they please, replace the two of you with two normal children. Het children that won’t deviate. You’re both on thin ice as it is. Mainly because of Ellie. She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble.

“I…” 

I’ll be with you the entire time. I don’t like being around those cunts either. 

“It’ll go by quickly.” She settles. 

“I hate when p-people look at me.” 

“Me too.” 

“I wish my family loved me.” 

Ellie’s softer now. Only slightly. 

“Yeah…” 

A tug in her ribcage. Try. Please, try. 

“Me too.” 

The pounding beneath your skull wakes you quicker than the birds. You shove your face in the pillow you rest on. 

The devil tells you to check the time so you do. The bedside clock says noon, meaning a new day, meaning it’s Saturday meaning you’ll die. Maybe not physically but mentally. You’re so drained and you’ve barely opened your eyes; the idea of leaving bed alone is enough to exhaust you. Your wrists and legs ache like fucking hell on top of that. 

You make fists with both hands. Repeatedly clench and unclench. The weight is different on your wedding finger. Heavier. You haven’t seen your ring since yesterday… or a few days ago — you’re not really sure. You must’ve found it in your drunken stupor. Just when you hoped to never see it again. 

The universe will always remind you who you are. 

If you stand you’ll vomit but your phone is ringing from the drawer you stuck it in weeks ago. How is it not dead? You know your mom’s calling. You hate that she is… 

The ringing stops and you thank the heavens. 

You curse them when it starts up again. 

The drawer slides open with reluctance. The ringing sounds 20 times louder. You retrieve your device blindly and your throat snaps shut when you speak. 

“You rang.” 

“Did your… partner tell you about tonight.” 

Hard and distant. That’s how she speaks to you. Your heart cracks. 

Your mom already knows Ellie did. She loves to bother you with nonsense. You don’t think she’s ever called Ellie your wife. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re attending.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that all.” 

“Your gown was delivered here. Come by well before 8 to get ready.” 

And she hangs up. Just like that. Always. She’s never told you to have a nice day, or to rest well, or that she loves you, at the minimum. And if she had, you don’t remember any of it. There’s a lot you force yourself to forget. 

The selfish part of you disregards the burning of your eyes to stare at your phone — low battery and… no messages. No texts, no phone calls from anyone except your mother, no likes on Instagram because your mom scared you into not making one when you were a teenager. No one cares about you. People care about your wife, though. Maybe because she’s talented; she’s certainly not nice. 

Your darkest memories are always the most prominent. 

Your phone drops to the floor and you don’t reach for it. You just pray to sleep again. 

Tonight will be interesting. 

The ride to your mother’s is silent. 

At least she chauffeured the two of you. Ellie can be scary when she drives. You’ve never been in a car with her, but she did ram into a lamppost on the sidewalk a few nights after your wedding. 

Your wife is already dressed despite the party being hours away. She sits right next to you in all black; in a trenchie and turtleneck and slacks and loafers with fur and gold jewelry. When she descended the staircase, you gawked when she wasn’t looking. So simple, but she had your heart fluttering when she’d asked, ready? You’re still in your sleep shorts, teeth unbrushed and starving. When was the last time you ate? 

What an embarrassment — you’re an embarrassment, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. If only newly wed you could see herself now. 

You swallow a lump when you feel eyes on the side of your face, but yours remain glued out the window. The closer you get to your mom’s, the faster your mind starts to shut down. Everything passes you by in a blur. 

By the time the gates with your father’s initials come into view, your thoughts go silent, only filled with the calming images of nature and the song of birds. Your only escapism. 

The only way you’ll make it out of here in one piece. 

Ellie! Darling! We’ve missed you! Give us a smile! 

Ellie! Ellie, look this way! 

Ellie, where’s your wife? 

She wishes she knew. You’d barely made it into your mother’s home before getting swept down the hall by 4 other people who poked at your appearance. Ellie didn’t even get to give your mom the passive, spine-chilling hi, mom like old times before another SUV came to whisk her away from that hell hole. Her dad always knows somehow. 

She hates being at your mom’s; it’s stifling and quiet and the aura is dark. Like mother, like house or whatever the fuck. 

She scowls when the bombarding questions redirect to you. Some concerning, some sarcastic, some raunchy — those get under her skin in particular — and she can’t stop fiddling with her ring. Her chest tugs tugs tugs. 

Trouble in paradise? 

You were caught leaving the bar with another woman on your arm a few weeks ago! How’d your wife react to that? 

She doesn’t know. She’s never home to see you break. 

Guilt ate at her when the door of your mother’s mansion shut behind her, but she disregards it now. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to their guised jabs; You get enough of that from everyone in your life. She hopes you’ll go through the back entrance when you arrive. 

When will you get here? 

Ellie’s never made an event appearance without you. You’d pose and fidget and display awkward affection so that they’d buy your love a little bit, then enter the gathering as two separate hearts, riddled and torn, never to cross paths until the bustle is over and it’s time to go home. 

Finally, security moves and barricades her until she gets past the 20 foot gate and treads the steps. The flashing cameras are still blinding from behind. 

The tended garden is the first thing she notices. Wide and green. The daisy and rose bushes are no longer tangled with weeds and surrounded by dead grass and gnats. How could Joelene not see that and be vengeful? Ellie and her dad may not be close anymore, but she knows him; maybe even more than he knows himself. He still misses her mom after everything, and chooses to express it through her favorite hiding spot. Keeps the flowers that bloom and trims the ones that don’t so she lives through them. Ellie hardly remembers a time when her mother wasn’t covered in dirty overalls and sunburnt. 

She manages to hold it together when the large double doors open. The violins suddenly sound like nails on wood. 

Voices fade into nothing. People are outside your car. Light hurts so terribly. 

One second you’re here, the next you’re not. Your mom and her husband sit across with twined arms and the lace from your dress is itchy and you wanna disappear. When you blink, you’re gone. You only exist on this plain if your eyes are open. 

Something hard and leather brushes against your ankle, scratches against your stockings, slow and snake-like. You know what it is, who it is, and you freeze, eyes locked onto your mother. No matter your hopelessness, there’s still a young girl in you that wishes your mother would defend, act on anger, be disgusted at minimum. At least when his crimes are done in secret you can’t blame her for not knowing. 

But you’re here and she’s here and he’s here. A shared secret between the three of you. 

His shoe doesn’t halt on your leg. Your mother never looks at you. 

Birds and songs and sonnets. You’re a bird and you can fly against the strongest winds. Music is your guide and you follow the clouds. 

Your fingers twist together in your lap and the black interior of the car glows red. If only… he’s not the only one with sick intentions. If only. 

You’re flying you’re flying you can fly and there’s someone who’ll love you gently. They’re out there somewhere and you’ll find them and they’ll find you like every trial was worth it. 

Patience. That’s all you need. Just be patient. 

The rest of the car ride is unbeknownst to you. Next thing you know, your door is being opened and two men await your entry at the glass door. 

Champagne is good. Tequila is better. The two mixed is hell. 

Ellie’s throat burns and her mind swirls but she plays it off well enough. Mingles with pensive, old bastards while their daughters’ gawk at her with bright-eyed curiosity and you haven’t arrived yet. 

She lost her dad somewhere in the night. He greeted her briefly upon her arrival, pointed out the important men of the night, called your mother a selfish bitch, then walked off with his mistress by his side. Ellie’s eyes keep meeting the back door from the living room. 

Where are you? 

“Ellie!”

She downs the rest of her chute and guards her agitation with a grin. Shakes the hand of… 

What the fuck was this dude’s name? 

“It’s an honor! Your art is incredible! I’ve truly—“

—Fucking Ronald? Reginald? … Ronald might be it—

“—Your father, ya know, he’s an interesting man, incredibly smart! I’ve never—“

Her dad gave her a run-down of the … merging or whatever the fuck but what the fuck did he say and holy shit, is she sweating? The man’s handshake threw her off, frankly; almost snapped her wrist in two. Fucking old piece of shit. More business jargon that she pretends to understand and care so much about because it’s a show after all. All cheers and stiff laughter. 

“And your wife! By God, what a looker!”

Her jaw clenches. Where are you where are you where are you

“What we’d give, I mean, c’mon!” Men that pass laugh with him and it’s taking everything in Ellie not to smash this glass over his head. One quick swing and it’s over. For him and her. How promising.

“Where is she anyway? You two didn’t come together?” 

“She um, she’s with her parents right now. They’ll be here.” She jerks her chin toward the entrance. 

“How lucky are you. Treat her like the star she is!” It looks like the shithead’s leaving, but not before taunting, “Holler when she arrives, will ya?” 

And just like that, he leaves Ellie to simmer. Three deep breaths. A man in a suit and tray filled with champagne waltzes passed her and she snags two glasses. Downs the first in one thick swallow before another clinks with hers. 

Why does everyone keep fucking with her? 

“Cheers.” 

Ellie doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She scoffs. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” 

Jolene stands next to her, shoulders slouched and dress glowing under the chandelier. She arches a dark brow, “Who wouldn’t? Men are the most entertaining when they’re on ego trips.” 

“Same goes for my dad?” She snips, and Jolene shocks her with a smile. 

“Meh.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“I just told you—“

“No, where are you here.” Ellie gestures between them, “Why’re you talking to me right now?” 

Jolene downs her drink and shrugs, “My attempts at bonding. On a scale of 1 to 10, how shit were they?” 

“900. Leave me the fuck alone.” Before Ellie can run, a hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“I know—“ The woman rushes, “I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not—“

Ellie almost corrects her out of pettiness; They don’t have a relationship, period. There’s no best or worst. But her sudden desperation halts her. 

“—the enemy. There’s not a lot for us in these spaces. I just wanted to try and establish something. Anything. Between us. It can be so lonely without a real support system.”

Ellie hates the direction her heart turns her mind. Suddenly you’re there and you’re crying and clawing at your chest and Ellie just watches like she did that night. So powerless. So empty. 

But Jolene isn’t you. She chooses to be selfish. Yours comes from self preservation and nothing else. 

Ellie snatches her hand back and throws her the deadliest stare. “You don’t know shit about being lonely. You’re the one who gave up everything you had to fuck my dad when my mom wasn’t looking. How much did you care about her loneliness then? Hm?” 

The timing was perfect, really. 15 year old Ellie watched her parents get into one of their most abhorrent arguments; her dad leaves first, then her mom, then only one of them returns, and it was not her mother. Imagine her shock when a news reporter confirmed that her mother’s body had been thrown in a garbage bag and left in a dumpster to rot. It only took two weeks to mourn before he was marrying another woman. 

Nobody cared that her mother had been shot or stabbed or gutted. She was just a woman married to a successor who raised a deviant child. 

Ellie forces herself to not point fingers, though. Anyone could’ve killed her, she always reminds herself; to keep her from going fucking crazy. But timing… 

How telling is time. 

Jolene’s eyes widen and her grip weakens. Ellie takes that as an escape before she has a breakdown in front of the caviar platter. 

She barely takes a step before she collides with a body. 

Funny. 

She bumped right into a star that shines a royal blue. The woman of the hour, for sure. In her mind, at least.

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“You’re fine. All me.” Ellie says lowly as she takes you in, and you do the same to her. Shy, but yearnful glances. Glossed lips tightly sealed and brows tense. Your dress shimmers and holds you snug and she feels guilty for staring at your curvature. She’s suddenly hyper aware of the vultures that disguise themselves as men and she has an instinct to hide you. And your ring is on. The thumping in her chest picks up. Only slightly. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Jolene says shakily from beside Ellie and she almost loses it before a grating voice interrupts. 

“You, as well. And your husband is…?” 

Your mother. And her lap dog wagging his tail beside her. What a bitch. Both of them. 

Your stepdad says something and you inhale sharply and no one notices but Ellie. She studies you carefully. You look like a frightened cat with a frilled tail as he speaks. Claws out, not because you’re ferocious, but so, so scared. She glances at your stepdad; greasy smile while he ogles at Jolene; what a nasty son of a bitch. 

Ellie whispers to you, “Is everything o—“

“Joel! Man of the hour! How are—“

“Where’s the bathroom again?” You whisper back. 

Ellie takes your hand in hers and flees while the family’s distracted, leading you down a hallway that’s way too long with lights too bright. 

She gestures towards the door. “It’s… This is it. One of ‘em at least.” 

“… Thank—“

“What’s the matt—“ 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Did that piece of shit say something to you?” Ellie glances to make sure no listeners are hiding in the shadows. 

The widest smile grows on your face as you laugh, hearty and loud with your head thrown back. Ellie stares in confusion. 

“Oh, Ellie! You’re so silly,” She jumps when your hands hold her cheeks. You’re fucking freezing and they tremble. Your eyes are a dark void. 

You lean in closer, lips right against her mouth and they part slightly on instinct. She’s concerned and should ask more questions, but your skin is so soft. Are you gonna kiss her, she wonders? You haven’t kissed since your wedding; your breath hits her mouth and her tongue swipes her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she aches to touch you—

“Save a seat for me, love? Please?” 

It happens so fast; the frost of you is gone and the bathroom door slams shut while an elderly woman fondly whispers, “young love,” as she walks by. Ellie only nods with a rigid curl of her lips, throat cinched too tightly to swallow. 

You puzzle her. She’s tempted to wait for you, to ensure you make it back safely without bombardment, but then 

“Ellie! Why didn’t you call me! Your wife made it safely, I see!” 

A hand claps on her shoulder while men laugh from the side, boisterous and predatory and so wide their fangs show. Ellie’s sick and a war rages within her. 

“Your father sent me to find you! It’s time to eat!” 

She sends them a weak smile. She rushes away from the door and they follow close behind. 

Anything to lure them away from you. 

Attendees have dwindled, only Ellie and her family and you and yours and some CEOs that are really getting on her fucking nerves. But you’ve eaten, thank God. She can breathe a little. 

Only a bit, though. You’re putting on a fucking show and it’s scaring her; Even her dad seems impressed. Charmed by you. Clinking glasses and telling jokes and smiling. Did your mom hold you at gunpoint before you got here? How much did you drink? Not much from what she’s seen. 

That one fucker from earlier — Raymon or Robert or whatever the fuck — keeps leaning over the table whenever you do. Peeping at your chest, probably. She wishes these steak knives were sharper. 

“So! Our young couple,” says Old Bitch with a Combover and wiggly brows, “When are we getting those heirs?” 

You cough uncomfortably and Ellie squirms in her seat. Your mother scoffs, “Two women can’t have children—“

Said Old Bitch shrugs, “Well, not biologically—“

“My point exactl—“

Ellie’s father cuts in with a tense grin, “When they get to that point, we’ll discuss their options. There’s… many nowadays, evidently.” 

Neither you or Ellie interrupt, but she notices you’ve moved closer to her. Inched your seat a bit. You squeeze your hands so hard in your lap she’s scared they’ll shatter where they lay. You’re not smiling anymore. 

Her dad and your mom are subtle with their blows at one another; snarky with brutal stares, unremarkable to strangers, but you and Ellie know. When dinner ends, you’ll both be caught in their crossfire. 

“There’s no shame in me wanting my grandchildren to be by blood. I shouldn’t have to go shopping for an heir.” Your mother hisses. 

“Sh—“ Joel huffs with disgust, “Shopping for an heir? That’s what you think adoption entails?” 

“Does it not?” Your mother’s tone rises. 

Reggie, Rory, or Russell interjects with a dismissive wave, “C’mon, you too! No need to argue. I’m sure girls like them will be fine with obtaining children! It might be more… complicated, I will say!” 

“May I be excused?” You croak, and Ellie straightens. 

“Why? So you can wallow about dying childless?” 

The table silences. No laughter, no wittiness. Completely still. That wasn’t from your mother. Ellie doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard your stepdad speak so clearly. Her blood thrashes beneath her skin so harshly that her tongue unties. There’s a darkness in her that whispers, “grab that steak knife”. Brutalize him. Just for a second. Do it for you. 

Do it for her. 

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits. 

Your neck almost cracks with the speed you turn to her, eyes wide as the moon. Her father condemns, “Watch your mouth, Ellie.” 

“Or what, you old fuck?” 

Her heart rattles noisily in her chest; her hands shake where they rest on her lap, her cells trembling with the instinct to harm. The gaze of her father is distant and filled with inadequacy for his only line. Nothing unbeknownst to her, but there's a flash of something so deep, so forbidden for them, but she sees it every time they hold contact. Beneath all the loathing and lesions left to drain, there’s longing. An inkling of gratitude that she knows he’ll suppress until he’s buried underground. He’ll never look the same to her, and she imagines the same for him. Too many bridges burned. 

“How’d I do?” Ellie rasps to him, “Hm? The night went how you hoped?” 

Look at what you’ve done, she hopes her eyes say. Tears welt against her will. When was the last time she cried in front of him? She hadn’t even given him that honor at her mother’s funeral years ago. 

Ellie’s stiff stature nearly cracks at the light brush atop her knee. A wind catches in her throat when a pinky turns into three fingers, then five, then a palm that squeezes comfortingly, desperately. Maybe partly to keep her glued to this chair. She gulps the dryness down and a flame lights in the pit of her stomach. 

Her glance to you is brief, barely out of the corner of her eye, but you’re watching her. Intensely, and it scorches her cheeks, all the way down to her neck. Scared cat. Scared cat. Shrilled and cold and frightened to hell and she despises it. 

What changed? She’ll always wonder. That look hardly shook her a week ago and now it makes her teeth ache. 

Suddenly, it’s too warm here. 

“Get up,” Ellie rushes you. Grabs your arm and yanks you from your seat, “Not dealing with this fuckin’ bullshit tonight. We’re leaving.” 

There’s suddenly shouting from all directions of the dinner table with each step Ellie takes for you, but you never drop her hand. She clenches it tighter when you finally reach the back door. 

The door slams shut on the wreckage behind you. 

Consider plan MERGE a bust. 

Ellie’s a thief. You think. Maybe. 

Is it stealing if the car belongs to a family member? Where she snagged the keys from? You don’t remember. One second you’re at dinner, then watching the city pass you by the next. It’s silent in here. 

“Stop.” 

You slam back into your body. Still in the car. You wish you were asleep. 

“Huh?” 

Her eyes watch the road, but a hand rests on both of yours to pry them apart. 

“Stop. I hate that sound.” 

“… Wha—“

“You’re gonna rip your skin off if you don’t stop.” 

… Oh. Yeah. Bloody cuticles. It was all accidental, you swear. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes shut briefly and she sighs, sounding so worn. Exhaustion is her white flag. “Just stop.” 

“Alright.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s quiet again. The red from the stop light reflects in the car and you’re instantly reminded of your stepfather. 

“Ellie.” 

“Hm.” 

“We should get a bird.” 

“… And do what with it.” 

You shrug, “Pet it. Feed it, too.” Sing with it, you wanted to add. Ellie would’ve probably laughed at you. 

She snickers dryly, “That’s usually what you do with a pet.” 

“I never had one.” 

The light turns green and the car revs. Your wife hums, “I had a fish once or twice.” 

“Lucky.” 

A small — very, very minuscule grin quirks Ellie’s lips and your heart hollers. For joy? In warning? 

“Not really. They kept dying so I gave up.” She snickers to herself, and you can’t help but stare. She starts talking then. Eyes gone, tension gone. She’s suddenly relaxed. 

“My mom… she, uh… loved water. Was always in it or… watching it on TV or something. She always bought fish from fucking… PetCo—“

“PetCo?” You laugh, then Ellie does. 

“Right? She’d take me and be like, “get one”. And I went home with a new fish every time.” 

“I thought you only went once or twice?” 

“… Times 100,” She giggles, “My mom lived there. She would always talk to the cats through the glass.” 

You don’t hesitate, “I wanna go.” 

“To PetCo?” 

“Yeah.” Why not? 

Everything is almost over. So, why not? 

“… K.” 

“So we’ll go?” 

“Mhm.” 

And the conversation ends. The car is silent. Suddenly tense again when you ask, 

“Do you think we’re cut off?” 

Ellie’s jaw clenches and the car is suddenly tense. Back to square one. “Possibly. Tonight was a shit show. It went by fast, at least.” 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m…”

Alone. You’re fucking alone and know nothing about life outside of what was built around you. Without it, you’ll spiral and fail and face a dreadful reality. No more rose colored glasses even if they’re browned and wilted as is. You’ll be eaten alive by the creatures in the night without a protective border. 

But the curse will end. You won’t inherit or be forced to lie or play a game that ends in fire. Decades of legacy down the drain just like that, and by your own hand. It fascinates you, that power. A force you’ve been withheld from. 

“I don’t know.”

“Still thinking about divorce?” A void in Ellie’s tone. 

“I don’t know.” 

“They’ll never allow it, you know that, right?” 

“What if I just leave?” 

“And do what?” Her voice raises. 

“Who knows. Who cares.” 

“Please,” Ellie exasperates, “Your mom will get fucking SWAT to bring you back.” 

“What good will a corpse do for her?” 

You’ll be dead but you’ll have a bird. A colorful one. That’ll be your legacy. That’s all you need, really. Ellie doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. 

More buildings flash by and suddenly you’re home. Parked in the garage with Ellie beside you, gazing off into opaque walls. You wonder what she’s thinking. If she sees everything in black and white like you do. Maybe she’s the opposite, vision bright and full of suppressed color. She is a painter after all. 

“What’re your plans?” Ellie suddenly whispers. 

“For?” 

“Life. The future. Anything,” She pries and digs for something, “There has to be something that interests you! That gets you excited! There’s so much shit to do.” 

You shrug. Not much. Not anything. 

“I used to be excited for my wedding,” You mumble, “Like… as a kid. White dress and flowers and everyone’s just excited to be there. For love, and whatever, you know? That’s how it was in movies, at least.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s off your chest. The unhealthy romanticization of the happiest day of your life ended up being just another day to honor the greed of your families. Everyone was so lifeless when they watched you and Ellie kiss. It hadn’t even lasted 3 seconds before she shoved the band on your finger with teary cheeks. Such beautiful scenery was wasted on misery. 

You look over and Ellie’s eyes are roaring, palms squeezing together in her lap while her wedding ring twists around her finger. You watch it cycle. 

“Now I…” You chuckle sadly, “I just want a bird, to be honest.” 

With your heels and purse in hand, the car door opens and you exit, forcing yourself not to peek through the windshield at Ellie again. 

The second floor, your bedroom, your bathroom, are all quiet. Did Ellie not follow you inside? For a while, you envision what it would be like if you weren’t married. If you weren’t born as you, would your world be this still? 

It haunts you in the shower. Wolffish eyes and dry hands grasping at your shoulders and waist but everything’s quiet. 

You wash your face, brush your teeth, wrap your hair alone. You wonder if anyone is actually in the house. Was Ellie a figment of your imagination? Is this one of the nights that proves she doesn’t exist and that your brain is your greatest enemy? You shove your face into the mattress before your thoughts venture. Silence rocks you to sleep, but not forgetting the taunting desire to know 

Is death this quiet? 

Your mom’s calling. 

Vibrations rattle in your bedside dresser. The sun isn’t up yet. The birds are still resting. She never calls this early… or late. Something bad must’ve happened. It takes 17 seconds for your drawer to stop shaking before it starts again. 

You can’t move to answer, though. Your body isn’t yours at the moment. Your soul will reclaim its shell soon enough. Or maybe it won’t. 

Your drawer shakes shakes shakes. Your heartbeat eventually matches the pace of its vibrations. You think it’s been 20 minutes. Maybe longer. When will the birds wake? 

Finally, the calls stop. Your eyes shut again. Instantly taken by darkness. 

You never wear normal clothes. 

Ellie’s only ever seen you in thousand dollar dresses and high heel shoes that scrape your achilles and cloth that squeezes you so tight she thinks she might explode by just looking at you. No matter how fucking good you look in them. 

So what the fuck is that? Moreso, why does she like it so much? Her cheeks are on fucking fire and her heart is trying to flee its enclosing. 

You have a t-shirt on. A simple, non-Gucci white tee that says LAS VEGAS and black shorts and a scarf on your head and socks with squirrels on them. Is this the fucking matrix? 

You never wake up this late, either. It’s 20 till 10. 

“Did my mom call you at all?” 

No… no she didn’t… Why can’t Ellie speak? She’s sitting there gaping like a fish and taking guilty glances at your nipples through your shirt. She shakes her head. You nod yours. 

“I uh…” She mumbles with a cotton mouth when you step into the kitchen, “I made coffee.” 

“I smelled it.” You serve yourself at the counter. 2 Splenda packs, no cream.

“Did your mom call you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“I didn’t answer.” 

… Interesting. Odd. Her calls are never missed by you. 

“I hope it’s something bad.” 

Ellie swallows her sip thickly. “… Damn. Why?” 

“She deserves it.” You say calmly while stirring. “He does, too.” 

“Your dad?” 

“My stepfather,” You hiss and slam your mug on the table. Ellie flinches, “Yes.” 

Her palms raise in surrender, “Sorry.” 

“Where do you go at night?” The chair across from her scrapes on hardwood when you sit. 

Nowhere, recently. Ellie shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, “Anywhere. Wherever I want.” 

“Take me next time.” 

She pauses her sip to ogle. “Hm?” 

“Take me. I wanna see what’s fun for you.” 

Ellie huffs a shocked laugh, “No, you don’t.” 

You squint, “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m asking to see.” 

“It’s not your scene, dude, trust m—“

She jolts where she sits when a hand — your hand, soft and agile and cold, slams down on the table, rattling both your mugs and the vase that holds dead flowers, nearly shattering the glass with an accusatory finger. 

“You dunno know shit about me! I’m fucking going whether you like it or not! Whether she likes it or not, and if I have to do it myself, I fucking will, you fucking psychotic fucking bitch!” 

You rise and stomp to where she sits with a pounding heart and a lecherous swirl in her gut. You look about ready to slice her open with a blunt butter knife. 

“You treat me like fucking trash just like everyone else,” You whisper venomously, and Ellie shakes, “The least you could do is listen for once. Scared to take me to the place you cheat on me at? Don’t want me to see it? That’d be too real, huh?” 

Ellie exhales a shaky breath of your name, but your nails, cut and manicured to perfection, sink into her cheeks so tightly that she winces and blushes and her tummy twists with heat. You don’t flinch when her fingers delicately entangle around your wrist; doesn’t want you to think she’s holding you there even though she is. 

“You’re gonna show me a good time tonight. If it’s as fun as you say, that shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Her eyes must read yes, yes, it’s not a problem; Your grin is wild like a hyena; pretty lips swelled around pretty teeth and you always smell good. Caramelized sugar and nectar.  

“Who knows,” You purr and Ellie feels goosebumps forming, “Maybe I can meet one of your little friends.” 

She chokes around a gasp before her lips curl into a conniving grin, cheeks plush around your fingers, “Aren’t you a little hussy.” 

“Fuck you.” You shove her so hard her back collides with the seat but her eyes glow pink. She watches you leave the kitchen and stomp up the steps with a burning chest until a door slams from upstairs. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, wracked and desperate. 

-

-

-

Ellie will never admit — or maybe she will, but she purposefully uses your shared bathroom to catch glimpses at you. She always expects to find you out cold and wrapped in warm blankets, chest fluttering with each twitch of your socked feet that peek from below the blankets. 

What she doesn’t expect to see, though, is your phone shattered to pieces and left to drown in the clogged sink. Right next to a weighted rubber mallet; Where’d you find that? All your pent up emotions were taken out on your device… and the counter, apparently. The marble is chipped. 

She can only laugh in astonishment. Amazement. Fear when she realizes… 

Your mom.

Did you ever answer the phone?

Another day you’ve slept away. Either you were dreaming or someone was holding you suffocatingly tight; you enjoyed it, strangely. The sun is completely gone and there’s rustling and music echoing from the bathroom. Ellie’s in there. 

All the blood rushes to your head with how quickly you sit up, but your feet carry you past your closets until the light from the room sizzles your vision. 

Your wife stands by the mirror, drying her hair with a towel with a cigarette between her fingers. The guitar synths coming from her phone are grinding in your ears. 

Is she really keeping her promise? 

Did she promise to take you? You don’t remember. 

“Hi.” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and your spine twitches. You say nothing, so she chuffs with a teasing lift of her lips, “Chickenin’ out?”

“No.” 

“K.” 

“What do I wear?” 

She shrugs, “Whatever you want to.” She speaks around smoke and her timbre’s dry. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“Whatever I want to.” 

She must sense your skepticism because she’s suddenly reassuring, voice crackly, “You’re not under any expectations tonight. You wanted me to show you what I do for fun, and I’m gonna. You just have to do your part and enjoy it.” 

Your nails dig into your thighs while you watch her. She has her ring on and her body wash coats the room in cinnamon. With a pounding heart, your hands slowly drag up your sides, fingers dragging at the hem of your shirt. She’s not looking. 

Enjoy it…

“Did you eat today?” 

“No.” 

She gives you a look. Stern. What is she mad about? Your tummy flutters, “There’s leftovers downstairs, you can have ‘em,” She shakes her wet hair and puts on her glasses, checks her watch, checks her phone, hits her cigarette. “We’re kinda behind so you should get read—“

Enjoy it. 

Her eyes meet where your shirt drops to the floor, breasts on display while your hands inch up your legs to drag your shorts down, all while you watch her. And she watches you. It’s overwhelming, your wife as an audience while you undress. But she told you to enjoy it. Enjoy the night. Enjoy the stares. Enjoy the attention. Enjoy her, for once. It all seeps into your pores. You step out of your bottoms and peel your socks off. 

Ellie drinks you in slowly. Says nothing. Simply takes her time memorizing every line, curve, dip, scar of you. You like how ravenous she looks. The sin in her pupils only darkens when your thumbs hook in your underwear to shed them. They dangle from your index finger when you walk; You smile when her throat jumps. 

She watches your filled hand travel to her pant pocket to shove the flimsy cloth in. The muscles in her back twitch when your finger traces her spine. Ellie’s pretty, littered in cute, red and brown spots. 

“I’m gonna shower.” Your lips brush her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her arms. Her eyes flutter in a pleasant blink, nodding in understanding. 

Your wife takes her lighter and reignites your favorite candle while your water warms. How sweet of her to set the mood for you. 

Ellie finishes her cigarette while you lather, watching her through the fogged glass of the shower walls, massaging soapy hands into your breasts and your legs and everywhere. She lights another at some point, bent over the counter while she smokes, ogling you through the mirror shamelessly. You smile when it settles in your chest.

You’re gonna fuck your wife tonight. 

What a fucking oddball you are. It’s cute. A little sexy, too. Only a little, she swears. 

… Fuck. 

She waits for you on the bed, dressed and jewelried, fiddling with her watch out of nerves because what the fuck are you playing at? Whiplash; that’s what she’s had all fucking day because of you. She works in the morning, for fucks sake. 

Still…

Does she deserve this sudden… What the fuck even is this? Certainly not affection; you nearly strangled her at the dining table. Attention, possibly? Seduction? She’s wired to hell, she wants you so bad. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She could act on her attraction, sure. She’s positive you’d allow her to take whatever she wanted because that’s what you’re trained to do; to satisfy your partner — husband, she imagines your mother grating — in any way he desires. But Ellie’s not a man, and she doesn’t want that. She needs you to love it, to crave it as much as she does. To take from her like she dreams of taking from you. Ellie needs you to batter her, and if you’d like, she’ll do the same to you. 

If only you’d give her something tangible. Teasing isn’t enough. She’s desperate to get a grasp on your headspace; she wishes she could prick and prod at your brain for a second. What an experience that would be. 

You enter the bedroom like a ghost; hair still wet and coily, dressed in all black like she is, only decorated with gloss and earrings. No heels either. Just very shimmery looking flip-flops. Ellie bites down a smile. 

“Where are we going?” 

She shrugs at your inquiry, “Somewhere really, really loud.” 

“Will people find us?” Paps, you mean. Ellie denies. 

“Not where I’m taking you.” 

“Must be secretive.” 

She tuts, “Not… well, maybe. It’s fun though. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Okay.” 

Ellie stands with her wallet and keys and kiddingly offers you an arm to hold onto. “M’lady.”

But you don’t accept it; back turned, halfway out of the room towards the stairs.

Pleasant. She doesn’t mean to smile. 

She makes sure to grab the to-go box from earlier before locking the front door behind her. 

It is very loud here. And hot. And raunchy. 

… You like that. Your mom would have a heart attack if she were to ever walk in here. 

The trip to this whatever, wherever place was pretty far. You counted every second of the nearly hour ride, mainly because Ellie’s jittery knee made you nervous. It’s smaller than you assumed, but not quaint. Not at all. There's a ruckus from the entrance to the back exit, people your age and older, screaming and shouting words that you don’t know while people pound on drums and shred on guitar. They sweat through their clothes while their makeup streaks down their faces as they make love to microphone stands. 

… Better than tea time, you suppose. How exhilarating. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.

Not much can be said between you and Ellie. You can’t hear over the bass and rumbles from the floor but she holds your hand and small purse. Guides you to a small section in the back with a bar. She hands the tender her card and… that’s it. Four clear, questionably large shots are poured and slid to her like nothing. You want all of them. 

Ellie seems so at home as she guides you, already a burning shot down, into the crowd. You’re shoved instantly by party goers, but she catches you, holds you strongly. You look at her, puzzled with shock, but she uncaringly lifts her shoulders, downs a shot, and starts thrashing. 

Your jaw slacks and lights beam and flicker at a rapid pace but you’re smiling. Your wife meshes with the scene so nicely. You wanna be like that. So you follow. You drink and jump and flail and scream your head off. 

You and your wife are synched for once. Terrible dancers. No rhythm whatsoever. Who cares who cares who cares.

You wish your mom was here to see you like this. You hope your mom’s dead so she never has to see you like this. A thought so dark shouldn’t bring you this much joy. You laugh and holler at the imagery. Blood all over the marble. Blood all over the doors of your childhood home. Blood blood blood everywhere because they deserve it. Look at what they’ve done to you. Sick evil people.

You wanna kill your stepfather. This music makes you wanna kill your stepfather. It’s gorey in itself, almost. Abborherent verbiage. You think Ellie wants to kill your stepfather, too. You should ask her later. Maybe when you're both sober. Maybe you should make your mom watch you skin him alive. Him dying would damage her more than you ever could. 

When your eyes open, Ellie’s gawking at you, seemingly surprised. Impressed? She holds your cheeks to get your attention, gesturing, asking if you want another drink. You nod and shout in her face and she laughs. Ellie holds you by the waist and guides you to the bar. The bartender must like Ellie. You leave with a full bottle this time. 

You and Ellie pass it between yourselves, the night becoming more and more broken. Touchy. Feely. Ellie rubs all over you while you pour liquor into her mouth. A bit dribbles down the sides but she doesn’t care. You don’t either. So you lick the drops from her neck like a cat with milk. Ellie stops and you stop and everything stops. It’s just the two of you, suddenly; all other patrons evaporate to nothingness. Her eyes are blown and heavy as she searches your face, and they halt their wandering at your lips. She’s thinking about it; You want her to see how bad you crave it. Even if it’s just for a second. She smiles, pleased. You shudder. 

But she doesn’t do it. She spins you so your back is against her chest, lips at your neck while she pushes her hips into your ass. She’s messy, drenching your already sweaty neck in spit. Her nails dig into the fabric of your dress, guiding your hips, swaying you on her. You follow. You follow so blindly because you like her hands on you a little too much. You drink and drink and drink. Everything feels light. Good. 

You think Ellie’s speaking to you. Or singing words in your ear. Or maybe she isn't speaking at all. You’re not sure, but your face is burning hot. She tongues at your ear and you make a noise that you can’t hear but hope she can. You need this. 

Her hands are suddenly slow where they crawl up your sides until they rest on your breasts. Your empty hand lands on one of hers to squeeze so that she can squeeze you. You feel her smiling on your skin when your jaw slacks. 

Your head turns to chase her mouth, but she does you one better. Whisks you once more so your chests smash together. She snatches the bottle from your hand, takes one last swig before passing it to eager, drunk hands that wave from behind. You gasp when her thumb catches your bottom lip, pulls it down to get your mouth open enough for her to dribble liquor into. You moan loud enough for Ellie to hear over those booming drums, swallowing down everything she gives, nails sank into her waist while her hips push into yours. When you swallow the last drops, she kisses you. Messy and hot, tongue and teeth; it gets your heart singing. Her pink muscle swirls inside of your mouth and your arms wrap around her neck, yanking her into you so no space is left. Her hands are everywhere; tangled in your hair, grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs. Everywhere everywhere everywhere like she can’t get enough of you. You’re overwhelmed and high out of your mind but you follow her guide. Anywhere she wants you, you are. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as she is. After everything she’s done, you should hate her. You think you do. You hate her for leaving you. You hate her for embarrassing you. Abandonment. Her only gift to you. Maybe that’s why you kiss her with such conviction. 

Her touch is passionate; strong but not forceful. She breathes you in like a rarity, something she treasures, all while she licks and tugs at you like a slut. There’s a pulse deep within you when her lips enclose around your tongue to suck it. Your thighs squeeze and she grins madly, giving you one last innocent peck before she grabs your hand to spin you. You laugh and twirl with her. 

You understand why people fall in love so fast. You hate that you’re one of them. 

Or are you simply as delusional as they come? 

You’re even more enthralling when free of restraint. 

Ellie’s drunk and sweaty and exhausted but she uses every last bit of strength to stare at you. She sits at the bar as the crowd dwindles, artist after artist, established or aspiring, all go on to perform, and you haven’t taken a break once. You simply twirl and spin and mouth incorrect lyrics with the widest smile on your face, all while Ellie brings you her drinks to finish. 

You’ve been here for hours it seems, but Ellie can’t drive. But the night is young. You certainly don’t look ready to go home. 

What more can she show you?

“Thank you all for comin’ out! Tonight was a dream—“

You’re a dream, Her chest screams. You you you you fuck—

You clap like the happiest seal on the planet before spinning around to face Ellie. It happens in flashes: you come closer and closer until you’re in front of her, warm hands on her cheeks, ears tingling when you whisper, 

“I didn’t get to meet your sluts.” 

You sound upset about it. Ellie stumbles about how they didn’t come, how they’re not here. How she doesn’t wanna see them right now and she means it all, but you don’t believe her, and her chest hurts. Guilty guilty guilty. 

“Get up.” You step away and Ellie pains to pull you back, savor the night a second longer. But she signs the receipt before following you towards the exit. The cold air feels so good. She needs water now. 

She gives you a little yank when you start wandering the opposing direction, “Come… come here. This way.” 

You grin and slur, “Where to?” 

Ellie’s brows wiggle playfully, “Gas station. You hungry?”

“…Yes.”

Ellie extends her hand for you to hold, and surprisingly, you accept. Her heart jolts to life. 

The walk is quiet. Your eyes are glued to the sky, wide and innocent; the large moon entrances you, surrounded by glittery stars. You both wobble down the sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into pedestrians and other drunkards. She thought the rowdiness of nightlife would frighten you, but you seem drawn to the chaos.  

Soon enough, you’re both surrounded by aisles filled with chips and sodas and a fuck ton of candy. Ellie cringes at the fond stares she gives you holding 4 packs of watermelon sour patches. You’re cute as hell right now. Have you never been to a convenience store? What the fuck. 

“El! El, what the fuck! Where ya been!” 

Her sluggish brain is trying — really trying to figure out who the hell just left the staff room and is walking towards the two of you. It’s someone that knows her name or whatever shortened version they’ve created and the closer this person gets the more you shield yourself behind her fuck fuck fuck

Arms latch around her neck in a strong hug. Muscular, nice voice, smells like cherries. 

Abigail Anderson. Shoulda known. Great. 

“Jesus fuck, you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet! We fucking missed you! We haven’t seen you in…” 

When Abby pulls back, her eyes immediately find you. Ellie steals a glance; eyes wide, soft with curiosity. They darken slightly when they lock onto Abby’s shoulders, all the way down to her arms and Ellie… why the fuck does that annoy her? 

“Who’s that,” Abby whispers suggestively and Ellie sighs. Scratches at her eye in irritation. 

“I’m her wife.” You say causally, and it shocks both of them. Abby moreso. Did Ellie never tell her? She’s sure she did. Everyone knows she’s married… right?

“Wh— wife?” Her eyes shift onto Ellie, “Bitch, you got married? What the fuc— when—“

“3 months ago.” You answer.

“Fucking — holy shit. Congrats? Uhh… sorry! Nice to meet you! You’re gorgeous, by the way,” She stutters to shake your hand, but you accept it, “I’m Abby!” 

“Hi.” You smile in delight and your shoulders relax. Abby smiles just as gently and Ellie thinks it’s time to go because you’re both getting on her nerves. 

“Alright, well, we're gonna pay, so… yeah. I’ll text you tomorrow or something. We’re tired.” 

“Mhmm,” Abby hums cockily, eyes glued to the mess Ellie made of your neck, “Looks like y’all had a great time.” 

“We did,” She confirms with pointed eyes, “See ya.” 

“Byeee.” Abby sing-songs with a chuckle before Ellie leads you towards the service counter to dump your snacks. Ellie gives the cashier a familiar nod. 

“Is she who you fuck?” 

Ellie chokes on her water and the cashier gawks at you from behind their reading glasses. You couldn’t have been any fucking louder in that moment, what the fuck.

“What—“

“Do you fuck Abby? I hope not in that bathroom,” You clumsily point to the gender neutral sign near the entrance. “I heard they’re filthy—“

Ellie whispers even though there’s no point, “Dude, are you fucking crazy—“

“… It's just a question—“

“Have a nice night.” 

The cashier rigidly hands Ellie the stuffed baggie and receipt. She snatches them before snatching you to leave. She drops your hand the second briskness surrounds you, “The fuck was that about?” Her chips are calling her. She needs a stress reliever. 

“What—“

She squeezes the bag and the pop rings like a gunshot, “Why the fuck are you asking if I fucked Abby? What the fuck—“

“She’s hot and you kinda are… to a certain degree, I guess. I just assumed.” 

Ellie’s appalled, but doesn’t have the energy to look offended. “Stop assuming, it’s… that’s fucking weird—“

You simply shove tiny watermelon slices in your mouth and steal her water to chug it. She watches you impatiently before you hand the crumpled, half-empty plastic back to her. She downs the rest and discards it some-fucking-where. 

Her thoughts are clouded. Did she fuck Abby? Are you forreal—

“I don’t care, you know.”

“About what?” 

You shrug, “If you fuck her.” 

“Please be quiet.”

“Okay.” 

You both do for a while, dead grass and Dorritos crunching around you. 

Until Ellie speaks again. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Mhm.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nmhm.” 

Wide awake, actually. The world passes you by with each step the two of you take, swirling with bright lights and laughter. You follow Ellie closely, handfuls of candy shoved in your mouth while she munches on her chips. You never had those orange triangles before. Neither of you are in a rush to make it back to the car. Can Ellie drive in this state?

“Do you, uh, like places like that? Concerts?” 

“Yes.” You break out in a grin. 

“What else do you like?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t… experienced much.” You shrug, accidentally brushing against your wife’s shoulder. Electricity sparks near the end of your spine where a steadying hand rests. “Your friend… does she go with you? To concerts?” 

“Who?”

“Aaabby.” You tease, mocking the blonde girl from earlier, and Ellie’s expressions flattens. She's unsure why. 

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Her chip bag is suddenly very interesting. “Sometimes. I met her at one a few years back after a showcase I hosted.” 

“I like her.” She’s nice and smells nicer. You regret not shaking her seemingly strong hand a few seconds longer. Strong all over, actually. 

“… Uh huh.” 

Your brow arches at that, “Does that bother you?” 

“Why the fuck would it bother me? You can like whoever.”  

“Exactly how you like whoever, huh?” You sneer lazily, and Ellie goes stoic. And just like that, the conversation dies once more. You’re glad for it; selfishly, you’d rather refrain from telling your wife about how attractive you found her friend. She’s left you guessing under too many circumstances. Consider this a sliver of revenge. 

You both make it back to the parking lot in silence, minus Ellie’s agitated crunching. You lean against the passenger door while you watch her dig around for the keys. 

“Where to?” 

“It's almost 4 in the morning.” She hisses. 

“So?” You came home later than that for weeks. You wanna say it. You should say it. Grind your thumb deeper into that open wound, but you save it. Another day, maybe. Maybe not. 

“So we’re going home. I’m tired.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“Okay? Whatever, I’ll drop you off somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t leave your poor, defenseless wife unattended, would you?” You whisper slowly, and Ellie tenses when you plant a soft hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge you, just stares through the window behind you. You scoff and drop it by your side. Cross your arms stubbornly. 

“You’re mad because I like Abby.”

“There’s nothing for you to like! You just met her.” Her voice raises, and annoyance flares in you. 

“Exactly! I just met her, and I like her! The fuck did you think I was gonna do? Flash her right in front of the gummy worms?” 

“I don’t know! Fucking maybe!”

“So you can fuck other people but I can’t?” 

Ellie’s very close to you suddenly. Your heart jumps, “Oh, now you wanna fuck Abby? She’s the first person you’ve interacted with besides me since we got fucking married!” 

“SO?” You holler. 

“SO YOU’RE NOT FUCKING MY FRIEND! ARE YOU INSANE!” Speckles of spit land on your face and it sizzles into your pores. You might be. You fucking are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Ellie’s forcing herself into your space, so why do you fight? Why are you hungry? 

Your palms crash into her chest and she nearly loses her balance, “I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU! WE’LL FINALLY BE EVEN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” 

“Yeah? Think Imma fucking whore?” Her grin is sinister, and excitement coils in your belly. Gets your fingers twitching from how hard they’re clenched. 

“Maybe I do.” Vehemence scathed your tongue. 

“You know what I think?” 

“I don’t care—“

“I think you do.” She mumbles against your cheek, “I think you’re jealous.” 

You still. Ellie’s eyes pierce through yours, burning and hot, nostrils flared: she looks like she could snap you in half. Your spine tingles with delirium. 

“You’re mad because I get to be. I can exist and fuck and party and come and go as I please and you hate it. You wish you could do what I do.” She stares like you killed her mother yourself. Strangled her with your bare hands. “I don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. You want that so bad it makes you sick.” 

“So why stay?” 

It shocks her. You don’t waver; passive as usual. 

“You’re free and can do whatever you want, right? Why are you here? Go and be that. Be whoever you wanna be because you can.”

Everything will be over soon. Might as well. Ellie simply glares through you. 

Curiosity is your worst enemy. Might as well ask. 

“Why’d you defend me at dinner?” 

What does she know what does she know what does she know what

She rubs her eyes stubbornly, “Oh my fucking god, who gives a fuck!” 

“Me! I give a fuck! Why’d you do it! Why! You’ve never done it before!” 

She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows

“BECAUSE FUCK HIM! FUCK EVERYBODY THAT DID THIS TO US! FUCK YOU, TOO!” 

You might cry, you might not. You’re unsure of everything and you’re angry and hurting. Ellie’s a reflection of you, and vise-versa. You hate her hate her hate her. 

Hatred. It might be the reason why kissing her feels so good. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Ellie shouldn’t have you trapped between her and her car, grinding so harshly into you that your spine bends. You shouldn’t tug at her hair to expose her neck to lick and suck and bite her neck red while she curses in your ear. 

This is the distraction you’ve been desperately searching for. To think you’d find it in your wife after all this time. 

“I’d be a whore for you,” She shamelessly seers against your throat, hands wandering to unbutton her own pants, “You know that, right?” 

… That’s cute. Makes you blush. 

“Yeah?” Her laugh is thick like syrup, “Gets you hot? Knowing how easily I’d give it up for you?” 

That sideways grin makes you tick. Your hand closes tight around her throat and she nearly bloodies her bottom lip with her fangs. Your wife looks pathetic; thumbs hooked into her pants, so ready to drop them for you in the middle of the parking lot. People are wandering about; she’s willing to fuck in front of them? 

How pretty would she look trying to be quiet for you? Nervous eyes searching for privacy, praying no one walks by and sees her on the edge with your hand down her underwear. Hopefully no one recognizes her, pulls out their phone, records the two of you. Blasts you both on social media while Ellie moans in your mouth. What would people think? Your families? How ashamed would they be? Their two girls making a mess of themselves in public. 

The thought makes you smile. Scares you. Makes you choke her harder. Her pained whine vibrates in your palm. 

“Get the fuck in the car.” 

The windows fog with the heat of your bodies; her body trapped beneath yours in the back seat that’s roomier than you anticipated. She rolls your hips on top of her, desperate and eager to rip your fucking clothes off and feel you for real. Your dress rests around your hips, your panties on display and she wishes she could see them. She only has her hands for reference, tracing over each thin seam littered with lace and patterns she tries to memorize. Your tongue belongs in her mouth. You feel so fucking good; you’re not close enough. She needs you closer. 

Her mouth chases yours when you finally separate, only connected by a thin string of saliva, but a stern hand collides with her chest to keep her flat. Her hands tickle your waist. Rests your dress even higher until she can see your belly button. 

“Wanna know a secret?” You whisper down at her, and she smirks. 

“I know you’re a virgin, baby.” She whispers giddily, and your teeth grit. A flame coils in your chest. You ignore her.

“You could’ve had me after our wedding, you know? With my face buried in the pillows and my ass in your face. I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted that night.” 

Your sudden vulgarity stuns her silent. Your wife looks like she’s imagining it; lip bruised from both your and her teeth, mind racing with filth of you in every position she can think of. She wouldn’t have been able to separate from you if that was the case. It’s one of the reasons she kept her distance; those pretty brown eyes rolled back would’ve put her underground. She’d never tell you that. 

“But no,” You say like it aches, “You wanted to go and bend over all those girls that follow you around like fucking dogs. You wanted a bitch, not a wife. Right or wrong?” 

She can barely breathe and your hand pressing on her chest isn’t helping; reduces her to sharp gasps that make her lightheaded. The more ragged they become, the harder you press. Your brow arches when she innocently bares her teeth. 

Her palms squeeze at your ass, “I thought about you the entire time—“

Your hand cracks and her head flies to the side. Right on her left cheek is the already reddening imprint of your hand. The crackles in your palm are numbed by the alcohol and your core burns at the shock on her face. She gawks off to the side, that meddling smile dropped completely, chest ragged with her breaths. 

“Ellie, put your hands down.” You spit, and they drop from you completely, palms flat on the seat beneath her. 

“You had every chance to do right by me and you wasted every single one.” You sound like you’re about to cry; Ellie’s too scared to look at you. Not the good scared that she’s felt around you this entire time, but a hollow scared. The one that freezes you. Her fight or flight is triggered. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” You whisper against her burning face before you kiss it gently. A pained groan escapes her, and you laugh. Loud, in her face. Even louder when she tries to grind her hips up into you. 

“Take us home, wife.” 

[i-starcreamed]

Y/N: FIGHT ME!

Scrouge: How foolhearty... and facinating

Y/N: I- I don't- MIRAGE HELP I THINK HE'S FLIRTING WITH ME

Love it when villains find at least one (1) human cute and flirt worthy

🦂

ROTB SCOURGE X READER

Omg thank you 🦂 anon, im just like you and you’re just like me. MORE SCOURGE CONTENT!! While this wasn’t a request it gave me ideas :3

Unedited and also written on mobile…also look at this gif they scourge hot and wet on purpose

[ human!gn reader

Summary: As the request states, Scourge flirts with you. Big bad robot villain likes littol human

You might’ve secretly followed Mirage when he went over to distract Scourge while the others went on and save the world, no way in hell you were allowing an alien to destroy your planet. No way you were letting Mirage, you’re new friend, fight him alone. You started to rethink your decision when you were running across the platform, no weapon in hand to fight 20+ feet robot aliens and explosions going off everywhere. Then again, you were determined to fight along side your new robot alien friend to defeat the other…robot alien fiend. Aliens really need to find another planet to make a pit stop at, dont they?

You grunt as you pick up a piece of debris from the ground, it’s about the size of your head and could do as much damage as a splinter to Scourge. Who cares, you’d rather it be annoying than harmless

Scourge knocks Mirage back and you take this as an opportunity.

“Y/N stay back!” He reaches out but its too late, you’re already yelling and sprinting towards Scrourge, your piece of metal in your hand and waving it around like a crazy person.

“FIGHT MEE!” The piece of debris goes flying towards Scourge, only for it to hit his leg with a clank and deflect back into the floor. You freeze in your tracks, fuck. You’re out of breath and your little plan didnt work.

Scourge doesn’t squish you, he barely retains a laugh. Evil guys dont laugh, they cackle menacingly when revealing their evil plan to you. But this? This was…amusing to him.

“Did you really think that would work? How foolhardy, how stupid, how…fascinating”

He towers above you even as he leans down to..examine you? The proximity of his frame to your face is so close, your face was burning. You didn’t know if it was the fire and lava around you or just pure embarrassment.

“Uh, i don’t-“ Was he…flirting with you? You stood frozen even as his metal hand rose up, inching towards you. Do you run, freeze, or attack with your bare fists? Realistically your fists would be useless against his frame, you would be more in pain than he would. Even if you wanted to run, those eyes of his kept you in place. Such an intense orange gaze, who could look away from that? Scourge was getting distracted, he could easily snatch you up and complete his mission, but he couldn’t help but revel in your gaze of extreme awe and fear. He was rudely interrupted when Mirage started shooting again

You too snapped out of your thoughts and took a few steps back before sprinting back behind Mirage. “Mirage, was he fucking flirting with me?!” You yell over the sound of their blasters. You hid behind a small structure as the fight continued, not without noticing the way he occasionally glanced at you before attacking Mirage. You couldn’t tell if he was showing off or not

…was he seriously showing off for you?

[laurenttheninth]

i think part of why last night’s ep felt so weird is because it, to me at least, felt like it came way too late in the season.

excluding the breakup storyline*, and the pregnancy reveal**, these just felt like earlier beats:

athena, flash rob, and the probie(s) had this happened in like, the fourth episode, it would make a lot of sense that athena was injured (as she was JUST in a plane crash), and the seeds of 'flash rob' as a villain could have been planted early, giving athena an adversary. she could have spent half the season showing up in the aftermath of these mass robberies, frustrated that she's being outpaced by some twitch streaming jackass kid! this could have been compounded by the introduction of sparky, who athena's gut says not to trust but who, on paper, is a good kid. imagine if we had weeks of time to see athena "lose" to flash rob while building some degree of trust/warring with her instincts about sparky. think of how satisfying the sting would have been if we'd been waiting for athena to finally be one step ahead of flashy robert! think of how much more impactful sparky shooting an innocent woman in front of her child would be if we'd spent weeks with that character, and had seen athena trying to trust him! this also makes athena's decision to take on more probies a lot weightier: if athena was essentially training/mentoring this kid for months, how does she feel that he nearly killed someone because he lost his temper? then after the hiatus we could explore tonal shifts with athena having a string of new probies, or whatever. but do you see what i mean about the introduction of these things coming the ep before the 8a finale being... a bit late?

brad and gerrard show of hands, does anyone still give a fuck about these two? having gerrard take the hotshots job tied things up in a neat little bow and allowed us to solidly move on from these characters. this felt like a bizarre time to bring them back. we just found out maddie and chimney are accidentally pregnant again! bucktommy just broke up! eddie just shaved his moustache! hen's son nearly died and she only recently got her daughter back! why are we talking about these unlikable old white guys?! anyway. i think they should not have been revisited at all, except maybe to come back lola and norman style, way down the line, so the audience looks back like "oh yeah, those two... i'd almost forgotten about them!" BUT we live in an unjust world. so in that case, i think the issue with brad and gerrard is that they're too tonally different from the rest of the show. gerrard made sense in the begins episodes, when he was a pigheaded bigot representative of the old boys club institution and a foil to the new 118 that we know and love, and brad made sense in the three-part opening because he was a silly one-off character meant to add levity -- except we had levity because gerrard was written and played as a cartoon evil boss instead of a realistically awful person. so now 911 has two old white dudes who are at best good for a chuckle and at worst actively evil. and now gerrard is crying bc he loves his tv land job so much and brad is using start power and money to talk the brass into sanctioning his stalking of bobby nash. and we haven't seen these characters in ages and frankly, we don't care about them. my opinion is that we either need Way Less (end it with that shot of gerrard sipping his latte with his feet up or w/e) or, tragically, Way More. having them be a consistent problem that plagues the 118 would at least allow time for these characters to settle into a tone that sits well within the rest of the show.

it'll be interesting to see how this all pans out, pacing-wise, when we can look at this season in its totality next summer, and when rewatching in one fell swoop without a week between each episode. but at this moment, i don't think i'm alone in thinking that episode was just... skippable? isolated from the events that immediately preceded it? imo 8x07 added indelibly to the current state of s8 episodes feeling siloed within themselves with quick storylines that are introduced and then wrapped up within forty-some minutes.

*this had to happen a) after bucktommy had been together for a respectable amount of time onscreen and b) immediately after the breakup to prevent buck from looking like a crazy person, so i think this was perfectly place in the timeline

**had no material impact on the story thus far, we didn’t even see buck or chim struggling to keep it a secret. we didn’t even see chimney around the firefam, is that his strategy so he doesn’t spill the beans?? to just hide in the bunk room or something??? rip chimney han you would have loved playing keep away with buck’s phone and watching tmz videos of Bobby threatening to beat up a guy

[kabutoden]

i also really liked gamzee back in the day!! i was always kinda upset more effort wasn't put into trying to help him get better- especially when it got to the point an endearing character was just written off to be eternally a villain. so many time shenanigans to help bring back others/help others mental health, and yet gamzee was always just written off as a crazed murderer after a certain point?? felt like he stopped being a character and just became a force of nature. i like your more in depth look into the specific trauma he faced, makes him more like an actual person!

im so glad you like my interpretation of gamzee!! i was always really upset by how he was completely denied redemption after being introduced as a such a sweet and neglected kid who was in touch with his feelings enough to entirely reject acceptance of violence in his society. the narrative treats him really weirdly, i'm so glad i can talk about gamzee redemption+positivity with others!!

another thing i think about a lot is how rage is introduced in the narration as a biological function in highblooded trolls, but gamzee is still seen as culpable for his actions while in the rage state. tbf, its terrifying, but rose was never blamed for being manipulated by doc scratch into becoming grimdark the way gamzee is into becoming rage induced. it's all very weird. but also, i think moirails existing to 'tame a highbloods rage' is completely fucked and victim-blamey in a way, like 'oh you failed to calm his rage that's why he's bad now' and being built this way sets up a negative relationship. karkat's conflicted love and fear of gamzee makes me very sad and i dont think he should have the responsibility of caring for gamzee alone. it bothers me in fics when karkat cares for gamzee alone, because i dont think karkat's feelings for gamzee are unique; karkat's got like, four best friends. more even. sollux, terezi, kanaya, gamzee and dave all end up close to karkat and i think acting as a community would be more important and effective than a lone moralliegence with any one of them. bugs work together moment.

i'm also very invested in stories about creatures coexisting and caring for another who are biologically distinct, which i think i loved about the trolls from when i was 13. i really liked that the trolls were struggling against their 'fates' and the heavy pressure of biological essentialism in their society. i remember reading inverted caste fics where the same traits were instead seen as weaknesses rather than romanticized as strengths and being totally fascinated. thats why in bugstuck rage isnt thrown out as a concept, but instead changed as something similar to a prey drive in animals. some of my original fiction is gonna be all about stuff like this, acting as criticism and discussion of media like zootopia and beastars. im embarrassed to talk so much but thanks for listening! gonna reblog this with some more info

[syraxesrevenge]

i don't usually get involved with team stuff but mini rant (im low-key losing my fucking mind)

I don't understand people who are Team Green, and not because of their opinions on the characters. I find Team Green as some of the most complex, interesting characters in the whole lot of asoiaf.

1: First of all, the treatment of the strong boys. They act like Jace and Luke are absolute monsters; which, I don't necessarily agree with, but without bias I do agree they are not pure and cherubic angels. Lucerys is impulsive and childish, making jokes about actual trauma and maiming a ten year old who was influenced by his older brother. Jacaerys has extreme anger issues which lead to him acting arrogantly and stubbornly to the respite of his elders.

This does not mean they are *demons*, though, and do not deserve to be treated as such. I've seen people say that they were horrible for not showing a horrified reaction to Vaemond's death, that they should've felt remorse; what choice was for them to make? Lucerys was openly against the thing, wishing his own birthright upon the person who tried to usurp him; Jacaerys heard only the words "whore" and "bastards", which set him off. I do not blame him for this in the slightest; those words have been used his entire life to demonize him, villainize him and his mother.

Other people say Rhaenyra was terrible for making her sons believe they were real Targaryens, not admitting they were bastards and trying to persuade them from the throne. This take is just - abhorrent, imo. Jacaerys was taught by his grandsire, his mother, his father that he was going to inherit the throne just like his mother would before him. Lucerys and him obviously knew they were bastards - it is hard to ignore when everyone looks at you in the street, points you out, suggests you are not what you say. Jacaerys also spent his entire life, especially in the Dance, trying to prove himself a worthy heir. His traits of being well-studied and righteous were given to Aemond, because there would be no debate on who to choose if not.

"Team Green writers should've written the show! They're making the Blacks too sympathetic!"

The blacks are supposed to be the sympathetic ones. They are the tragedy of the war; the close-knit family that, in their pursuit to stay together, were torn apart and murdered by themselves. Joffrey died alone. Lucerys died alone. Jacaerys died alone. Daemon died alone. Rhaenyra was the only one who died with her son. They were the epitome of a caring, loving family - and what did that get them? Their reluctance to be ruthless resulted in the cold murder of a child. Lucerys was 13 in the book - 14/15 in the show. His death should be as hard hitting and as sympathetic as Jaehaerys, but somehow, it is not. To make a joke about Vhagar ripping Arrax to pieces is funny, to make a joke about Blood and Cheese is horrible. The double standard is just *baffling* to me.

Another thing - most of TG loves Jon Snow. They think that Daenerys was mad, that she deserved to die, that she was evil. By this precedent, if you can accept a legitimized bastard on the throne in the form of Jon, why is it *so hard* to picture Jacaerys on the throne?

"They have no personality!"

They had absolutely no screentime. The writers gave a scene to a fucking *foot fetish*, and they could not give us a scene of Lucerys, Jacaerys, or Joffrey. Especially when Lucerys was going to die in that season - he had a total of 23 minutes of screentime, and near 6 minutes of lines. That is not even half of an episode worth - especially for him to just be sitting in the background. And the times when he is talking? He is made to be the most unsympathetic character, ever. Laughing at Aemond, attacking Aemond - he is used mainly as a plot device, and it's sad, because I truly believe he deserved better than that, bc Elliot Grihault is a great actor :D

might make a part 2 if this idiot in a discord RP keeps insisting tg is righteous and perfect and amazing and MY fav characters suck ass

[asexualzoro]

it's december 9th, meaning today is my 23rd birthday (which is my favorite number!), which means it's time for...

Lew Writes Wrapped 2023!!!

im including anything that happened after my last bday, so we have some works from december as well. this one's a bit of a weird one for the total word count, you'll see why

it's all treebark from my sideblog / alt ao3. i cannot change. i will not change. for these im just gonna specify the relationship that's the main focus bc thats easier than fandom bc all but like one are third life

dandelion wishing

(Dec, 2.4k, treebark, oneshot) (link)

op movie 6 au for dogwarts in which Martyn is the baron and Ren doesn't know he's dead

id actually plotted out a whole third life au for this movie like months prior and really wanted to write it, so i took it for treebark week and focused it just on these two. it's my fave movie of all time and i obvs had to give it to my fave completely dead team <3

i will admit tho. it did make me back search martyns twitter to see if hes ever posted abt watching this movie. bc i know he likes One Piece and i realized this would bring me into the danger zone (he hasnt ever posted abt it if hes seen it)

A Romance Route for the Doomed Villain?!?

(Dec, 5k, treebark, oneshot) (link)

treebark dating sim isekai parody that spiraled out of my control made in a day-long possession

im still baffled by this one. why was the response to this one so insane?? there was smth in the water the day i posted this bro. a 1:2 kudos to hits ratio for the entire first day is literally fucking unbelievable. 70 comments?? what hold did this fic have on you people. i got fic written about this one?? my friends goncharov'd me in front of my face

really fucking fun to write and the insane response was smth im always gonna remember. i appreciate you guys so much

treesekai also turns a year old in a few days!

Until the Angels Realize You're Not One of Them

(Feb, 7.2k, emerald duo, oneshot) (link)

a traitor phil au which was mostly just me talking about all the reasons i love technoblade

this one... wasnt actually written this year for the most part? i didnt want to not acknowledge it, since it's on my ao3 in this year, but i wont be able to count it toward the total

still. traitor phil au my beloved. hearing him say on his stream he and techno wanted to do a betrayal arc made me feel insane bc i already had this written at the time

missing or obstructed

(2022-present, 12.9k, Grian & Ren, ongoing) (link)

post 3L fic about Ren and Grian seeking out closure with a lot of funny little sleep metaphors

same deal as the last fic, i, uh dont think i actually wrote anything new for missing or obstructed this year either? just uploaded chapters i wrote last year,,, i didnt wanna now acknowledge it, but i wont count this in my total later

i miss her. one day ill actually sit down and write more missing or obstructed. in my doc im JUST at introducing Martyn and i havent written it yet

to reach my mangled debut

(Sept, 4.2k, treebark week, ongoing) (link)

it wouldnt be me if i didnt have an execution somewhere in here. another op au!

THIS. I LOVE HER. when rev and i were plotting out the whole storyline for smop renchanting i was begging please give me this scene i need it and i had so much fun writing it. i rlly need to finish soon but i haven’t had time but please. please check out smop. she’s top of my priority list to update

Three-Dog Night

(Sept, 6.7k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

BIG DOG. beauty and the beast au!

god im so fond of this au. there’s some rlly good scenes written for this and unposted bc i just need to link them together. honestly i think if i took a month and focused it on this fic alone i could fucking finish it but i don’t have the time ;-;

that said i’m so enamored w this au genuinely. o dunno what else to say i just think. puppy

Cover Me In Roses

(Sept, 3.3k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

lamplight roleswap! put Martyn in a flower pot

i don’t feel as motivated to work on this one when i have lamplight unfinished so it’s lower on my priorities but know i have like an entire arc of this written and unposted. we just have a few paths for this one and i have to decide which one to use

it’s so wild to me lamplight has like. aus. like this isn’t even the only one? a roleswap. that’s insane? it’s wild that you all like lamplight enough i can even get away with this

First Sign of a House Fire

(Sept, 2k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

i love superhero stories for two reasons: plots about secrets and adapting the characters to give them powers. this had smth fun for both of them

yellow rose isn’t super high on my list of priorities to update (i think the oneshot is interesting on its own) but one day,,,, it’s part of the many aus cherri and i have but it’s the longest for sure. the doc for just this au is like 100k words long on its own. at the time i draft this cherri and i are actively writing smth else for it in another tab. theres like 4 offshoots and im obsessed w all of them. we had to make ocs about this one. i’m excited to eventually add more to this series

actually that’s one of the scenes i’m most excited for and most dreading adding. we made a backstory oc and im SO attached to him and im excited to post a thing out there w him but. ough. whatever cringe is dead i’ll get there eventually and brute force my way into attaching you to our funky little robot guy

also love that this fic forced me to be decided on a docv characterization that i have to stick to. he may be a canon guy to martyn’s vtuber lore but he’s my oc now too

Blindsided

(Sept, 2k, treebark week, ongoing) (link)

pirate au and royal au based on a big secret and also stuffing a guy in a box and it's all stupid dramatic literally what else do you want or need in life

this is my wife. my favorite. my most beloved. blindsided gives me new illnesses and diseases. i have just one scene to write before i can update it and then i can continue unleashing her. god i love this fic the drama of it is SO fun.

the funny thing abt blindsided is i know all the plot chronologically but now how to Present it which is part of why i haven’t continued too much. eventually i will but until then know that one of the scenes im sitting on which has been fully written is one i think about constantly. hopefully when i post it cherri’ll let free the comic she did for it

i actually have the ending of this fic written i just need to get there lmfao. second on my priority list after smop i think

Cradle of the Leviathan

(Sept, 1.5k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

i just love mer aus man. whats the point of it all if you cant have mer aus. just get a big ol fish

i have the ending of this au written as well and literally so little of the lead up. but this is pretty low on my priorities. i think this one stands just fine on its own. mer aus are nice like that

we actually have a few mer aus but for now i’ll be focusing on this one. i do have a few sweet post story things written for this one. maybe one day i’ll write enough to post em lmao

Lamplight AU

(2022-present, 47k, treebark, ongoing) (link)

renchanting dnd/fantasy au, martyn's a paladin and ren's a lamp

so i started this au last year. my wrapped last year said my total was 20k, so that means this year's total is.... 27k!

and… it was just lamplight’s birthday and i did all my appreciation for the fic and its readers then, but god. i love this fic so much and i love you all who have read it and been so kind about it. the amount of popularity it has makes it a bit nerve wracking to work on, but i still really want to see it finished. i hope to see the bulk of it done by this time next year!

Six Sentence Sunday

six sentence sunday is a challenge where i try to post six sentences i wrote that week every sunday, to keep me writing every week of the year! i do it over on my writing blog, @driflew

i did not keep up on my six sentences,,, i had a lot of sunday fencing tournaments. i did for ~33 weeks this year! thats a pretty good amount! i’ll have to be more on top of it next year tho

unpublished work

the last few years i havent included unpublished work, but with the extreme bulk of it, i wanted to note it down. cherri @/cherrifire and i have been writing a lot back and forth at each other in discord dms this year, and i wanted to include those in my count! bc holy fucking shit is there a lot of them

i didn’t include collab pieces, just pieces i wrote alone. i also only included the renchanting aus i share w cherri and scarian aus i share w flowey, nothing else—no unfinished lamplight or other independent pieces or oneshots, no original fiction for class, nothing. i also missed a few u haven’t moved to docs yet. so i’m lowballing by a few. thousands. of words

the total for those is...... 135k words! there is,,, something wrong with me

total and end notes

our total this year is...

187512 words!

that might be my highest word count yet! because i caught treebark disease. wild.

something really fun about this year to me is i really loved everything i wrote.

if you want to get me a gift or support me on my birthday… maybe try reading my work and reblogging it or leaving a comment! you can find my writing at driflew or skelew on ao3, follow my writing blog at @driflew, or even consider tipping my kofi!

thank you for sticking with me and supporting me this year! i really appreciate it! hopefully i can break 100k next year too!

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

As a non homestuck, what deos that mean👀

ough i wanted to be vague and quick but no i wasn't im so sorry fnsdmag tw for transphobia mostly i guess

homestuck ends. it's a somewhat open ended ending and they dont show the "proper" final battle, but it was implied in the comic already how it was going to go. a lot of people remained disappointed in that, but i personally think its a good one

people keep pestering hussie, creator of the comic, to continue the story

hussie, well known troll (haha) who more often than not both praised and made fun of the fandom directly in the comic, writes the epilogues. they're mostly awful and they're the umpteenth big fuck you to the fandom really; one is the "shipping" ending where everything goes bad bc everyone focuses only on shipping, the one is the "fighting" ending where everything goes bad and everyone fucking dies basically. it has some good ideas, there's more fourth wall breaking, but overall its an inconsistent sexist and misoginistic mess made out of spite by someone who clearly didn't want to work on homestuck anymore

it also features character assassination, be it "this character who's entire plot was about not wanting to be alone anymore is now a sex-crazed maniac who doesnt take no as an answer", "this character who was groomed all her life to be a dictator actually becomes hitler" or "this character who a lot of people hc as mtf is now ftm, but specifically in a timeline, in the other they still identify as female". you could argue it's bc the story is about one of the characters having a villain arc and managing to take control of the story and rewrite them, but he's also regressed to be someone who's obsessed with a character we were told he wasn't in love with anymore AND also says transphobic stuff so.

hussie actually opens the epilogues with one of the character saying pretty clearly that they're "beyond canon", and makes sure that everyone known that anything written outside of the comic itself, including sidecomics, videogames and the epilogues themselves, is as canon as you want it to be. unfortunately homestuck fans cant read and that + the fact that the epilogue end in a cliffhanger, homestuck 2 has to happen

hussie wants nothing to do with it and leaves the project to someone else. they give little to no details of the plot if not a few plotpoints, one of which being the fact that a character must be named yiffany

one of the people who was supposed to work on hs2 and the tie-in visual novel games "friendsim" starts fights with readers on twitter and is later on outed as a really bad person of the biphobic and ableist variety

on a minor note, some updates are patreon exclusive, and not in a "they'll eventually be posted" way, but in a "either you follow the patreon or you dont get the whole experience" kind of way

the story also has to follow the aformentioned sexist transphobic racist bullshit, to which they add terribly written "bury your gays" plot and also cheating!! no matter the timeline my girl kanaya gets shafted and cheated on and by now im gonna be real it really smells like lesbophobia in here

also futa jokes. like we all agree that the candy jade situation is fucked up right

in all of this, "what pumpkin" actually starts drama with a youtuber or something. idk. it's the team that sells the hs merch it's even more complicated. oh and also the videogame being so delayed that's a whole can of worms too.

anyway hussie actually says that they dont give a shit no more about homestuck and sell the rights to someone else. first thing we're told is that they're going to drop the 2 from the title of homestuck 2, turning it into homestuck: beyond canon. pretty much openly saying that no, this has nothing to do with homestuck, and it's officially Not Canon.

[1800duckhotline]

https://www.tumblr.com/1800duckhotline/748414044204154880/i-seriously-think-this-show-was-created-in-a-lab?source=share

hi! im not able to send you dms but i really want to know what you think about hazbin. i downed the entire thing in a day out of morbid fascination of seeing how that artstyle animates, but the quality of the script and handling of the structure of the show are so dogshit that the show has been lodged in my mind. and my friends who i can rely upon for their thoughtful analysis are not people who would watch it.

basically Hello Send Help

Honestly you summed up most of my plights within the show already, its just dogshit all around flaming and whatnot and i cannot believe there's 30 years old who eat this slop up. i can forgive teenagers for liking it (i am very self-aware as someone who read fucking homestuck when i was 13) but i cannot forgive fully grown adults for thinking this show has any sort of nuanced or well-written story

i finished watching the show feeling less aggravated by the designs and visual dev of the whole thing (though obviously its still really bad), and instead more by how insultingly and exhilaratingly bad the writing was.

i could literally take out my blocknote review of the whole show starting from ep 1 to ep 8 but i want to spare my friends who dgaf about hearing about this show. so ill just try to resume concisely my thoughts using my notes as crutches

this will be a very long one and again to spare people of pain ill put it under a readmore

vivienne medrano does not care about the female characters in her own show. idk about helluvaboss and i honestly dont want to watch it unless someone watches it with me, but from what i hear hazbin hotel was supposed to be the show "focused on the girls" while helluva boss was supposed to "focus on theboys". you'll never guess what happens in this show. the main 2 girls, who are supposed to be protagonist, are completely flat characters, that are given the slightest margin of spotlight THE LAST TWO EPISODES OF THE SEASON, and no 8 episodes isnt a justification for the dogshit writing they have. vaggie is the "angry mean militaristic lesbian of color who also coddles her white girlfriend" and charlie is "goody two shoes who doesn't use her powers as literal PRINCESS OF HELL because it's 'too mean' and who is babied and is also written like a baby that doesnt know how to act besides being 'positive and whimsical'". they are literally a ship trope shipped together because idk.

most of the development in the show is handed onto the guys, obviously, as they get the most songs, most exposure to their backstories, and most interactions that are somewhat written less one-dimensionally than the girls. (not to say the guys aren't also walking ship tropes for fanfic purposes). like you can't spin this in a way that doesn't sound bad, the men just get more spotlight and that's a fucking fact. so much for "focus on the girls". fucking SIR PENTIOUS GETS A SONG AFTER HIS DEATH, GUYS

none of the angel vs hell lore makes any fucking lick of sense, and i dont mean to say it needs to be biblically adjacent, it just doesnt make fucking sense even in the "original" lore it is constructing. how is hell supposed to be a threat to heaven when hell denizens dont have access to heaven?? this question alone makes anyone question what the hell the exterminations really are for. also, like, i really fucking hate adam, he's literally the most annoyingly written villain, like he's not even funny in a trashy way. if you want to make your main villain a hypocrite who's also a massive misogynist and sexist, writing him like a frat bro makes sense if your story is set in a college campus. this is HEAVEN AND HELL. all of his lines are just stupid and senseless for the context this all takes place in (also like lute being essentially a tradwife for him is literally such a stupid choice, if you want to make a meaningful commentary about misogyny among women this isnt how it works)

all of the sin and pure shit and repenting deal is like... literally awful. for a show that prides itself on owning the bigots who think gay sex and doing drugs and doing crimes is all inherently evil, the writing really does not do itself a favor of subverting this real-world bigoted way of thinking. as unintentional as it might be it kind of just reinforces it when the character they decide to 'repent' is fucking angel dust, a literal sex worker stuck in a cycle of abuse with an abusive rapist pimp and who does drugs as a way to cope in his life. because obviously sex work (and bdsm) is inherently sinful and disgusting and the only way to repent is to give up disgusting gay sex and sinful drugs and just stick it to the abuser that has you literally by the leash! i dont think this was intentional but it comes off as hilariously stupid and straight up tactless. (also we don't talk about how the storyboarded for the song poison apparently also drew rape comics of angel dust and valentino before as a kink thing)

oh on the topic of valentino, i dont fucking get people liking him. he is literally shown to be abusive and a rapist. people will see a thin man who's not straight and hump his legs like their life depends on it. at least he isnt white but i'd actually say this makes everything worse because vivienne medrano LOVES making the characters in her show of ambiguous ethnicities/backgrounds and ends up making most of the awful ones, of color. again dont think this is INTENTIONALLY done but it still comes across as horrid nonetheless. whew!!!

also i hate alastor in all types ways sauces and forms. he exists to attract fangirls and rabid fans who love tumblr sexymen. other than his design being tremendously aggravating, he's literally just fucking useless, and i hate that the show tries to shoehorn in halfway that he's supposed to be a "dad figure" to charlie when he literally never has done anything dadlike for her in the whole show (and yes i watched the pilot, i still dont think this counts). the only saving grace for alastor is his voice acting. everything else needs to go. there is no saving this one

and, on the topic of alastor, i'm not the first one to point this out but something about him owning husk's soul (the one character being voiced by a black VA, who coincidentally also has a design that is conveniently ambiguous with him being a fucking. winged cat furry demon ig) has like some really bad vibes about it that i can't quite put my finger on. i'm not entirely qualified to like dissect the issues this whole show has with like... the way certain implied characters of color act within it (i say implied because vivziepop is allergic to giving the main characters of her shows actual dark skin colors that arent grey, except maybe some one-off side characters) but it was just so jarring i had to mention it

i also hate lucifer because again, made for purely fanfic ship tropes and rabid fans who are obsessed with 'pathetic sopping wet cat men' with that signular character trait. his persnality is: Depression and Dad. I literally hated every fucking moment in this show where he was in a scene and was treated as "just some guy". same with charlie. Like the lack of authority they have for a supposed KING AND PRINCESS OF HELL is just... i dont know? stupid?

conclusion is that i hate the show, i will however bee seeing season 2 just because at this point im in it for the long run, its just like, other than the visuals being awful; it was legitimately the least aggravating part for me (THIS DOESNT MEAN I LIKE THEM, I DONT, I HATE THEM TOO) but the whole writing is just... wow. i just don't understand how they got a24 to back this up. like you cant make this shit up this bad even if you tried. and im sure there's a trillion other things other people have more eloquently explained in how and which ways they are bad; these are just some of my thoughts.

my concluding statement is that i also feel really bad for people who do entire rewrites of this thing as 'fans'. i dont get it. like i get doing redesigns because it can be an exercise and because lets be real, like, everyones design is bad, hardly anything is salvageable or makes sense. but rewriting... guys please just make your own stories from scratch. at the cost of being told "omg this is just like hazbin hotel!" you have to persevere and just write your own shit. because doing the redesigns means unpacking heaps of 'lore' that doesnt make any whatsoever sense...

[bloogers-boogers]

Hi I know its been awhile but I need to ask is how do you ship Adam and Lucifer

Since they only interact with one episode and Adam dead ??

Agsisgskwushs dude where have u been??! Missed u💕🥺

Anyways, the whole reason why i shipped Adam and Lucifer is just their small interactions made it easy to imagine many possibilities, alternatives, hcs, etc. Mostly based on their funny dynamic alone (like Lucifer being a tease and Adam pissy about the whole cheating thing i was like agdjwgekwhe funny af and then THE joke of fucking him sealed their dynamic for me as my favorite from the show right there and there) and also to picture what it could’ve been? Like, there’s so many holes you can fill in there. That’s what got me so stuck with it, that you can add so much to their backstory, also, the fact that they use Adam being an asshole and stuff as a joke bc he was the first man so ‘it makes sense or whatever’ blah blah so my mind immediately goes, oh, so he’s like the punching bag of the show? Bet bet I love him. When they’re like the ones doing all the bad shit, villains, does the crazy stuff (Cartman for example) or taking the shit of everything/being the joke (Meg from family guy for example) I immediately just like them for no reason, I love my failure characters. It’s interesting cause I was so nonchalant about Adam when I first saw him on screen, if im being honest. I didn’t even blink an eye when he got killed off but then, I saw him without the mask and I was like, he’s hot agdosgslabxlshxos like i was more shock that there weren’t more people who agreed with that than him dying. But still, he wasn’t like a character that I thought of while watching the show.

BUT ANYWAYS to responding ur answer?

I just liked Adam. His personality is funny, his character is interesting. I like him. The same happened with Lucifer. He’s goofy and sad. His backstory is drawing but there’s so much left out that makes you wonder more about him. I love him.

It’s was all based on their funny dynamic alone that drawn me to be like, ay? Im gonna look them up and see what I can find. And OH BOY i was sucked in immediately agdkwdhwosueuo

And the fact that Adam’s dead could’ve made me not consider the ship at all, but the show is about redemption and ALSO hell and heaven. Aka souls. Meaning they already died. Soooo the possibility is there and we have a dead character and he was an angel but was very awful! And deserved to be in hell. Sir pentious could redeem himself (a sinner) so it only makes sense that winners can go down there too! If they’re deserving of it and obviously Adam was deserving of it agrlwbdkwdbwj

My brain works like that it’s silly but

Adam/ bad winner+ dying = sinner

Sir pentious/ ?? (This is a whole other rant I don’t want to dive in to abdoabdwksk) I do believe Sir pentious could’ve gotten to heaven regardless, but I feel it could’ve been written off better just cause … i mean, yeah, he sacrificed himself but like u can still sacrifice for the people that matter to u and STILL be a bad person/do bad things?? Im just saying ok??

Anyways, he’s now dead (again) and a winner.

Point be told. In this show it’s possible for him to come back (I don’t care if he was killed with angelic steel im ignoring it everything’s possible skgdakdvakvdw) and it doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t return in the actual show. In this universe u can still picture a sinner Adam and it would make sense??

Cause it’s hell and heaven we’re talkin’ about. And it’s fiction too so u can create your own story and it just I REALLY LOVE THEM.

Also other ships weren’t interesting enough for me to get stuck on them. I initially shipped Alastor and Lucifer the moment they were on screen and bf they got popular! Bc i thought their dynamic FUNNY/INTERESTING. Thats what gets me into shipping. It must be funny but also u can add some lore into it. I think I’ve mentioned this before with kyman.

But yeah, don’t get me wrong I like radioapple but once the popularity hit off and different hcs and the thousands of interpretations of the characters started coming out, i dunno i couldn’t keep up and I just kinda just stirred away from it. I ship basically everything on that show, it doesn’t even matter skgdwlshow so I’m open for any ship there is on there but adamsapple? MWAH. Always.

Sbdowosbdk thennnnnnn I started reading amazing fics about them and boi u can imagine how good they were!!

Anyways sorry for the long rant. In short. Adamsapple for the win 🥇💕💕👏🏼👏🏼

[starfayy]

Writeblr Intro (cuz i forgot about this)

AYUP everyone my name's Fleur, i'm a 19 years old woman, im cishet and painfully neurodivergent (AuDHD and MADD). Im also brazilian and christian so there's that! (Trilingual beast coming at ya!)

I've been a writer since who knows when, started to write fanfiction in the worst fandom i could've started (...the beatles), went to an amazing fandom -that turned out to not be that amazing but my writing and storytelling evolved exponentially so im grateful- to now being more focused in original works

I'm currently writing a book with my friend (@serenity-of-waffles)*, and i might probably work in scripts for comics, animations and maybe games????? Let's see-

yeah im an artist too hehehe

Genres i enjoy reading/writing: Fantasy, Scifi, Romance, Thriller/Suspense, Horror, Slice of Life, Supernatural

Here comes the lists of things i like to see in a book and that i tend to write it in my own stuff:

FOUND FAMILY!

A good well written romance sometimes doesn't kill ^.^ (im a cliché beast, careful)

Tragic Backstory? Sign me in

NEURODIVERSITY

Supernatural ocurrences and creatures. Analog Horror, Psychological Horror as well

Super heroes? Yes

Mythological metaphores

I write for both Youth and Adult (im a sucker for children's books they can get so dark suddenly and is amazing)

Mystery elements yesyesyes a good suspense

Deep relationships

Consequences. I love consequences.

Historical plots and period inspired fiction

Super powers, creatures, magic, a whole well made worldbuilding (Tolkien wannabe)

SOOOO what am i looking for??

FRIENDS! People to rant about my silly stories and worlds!

More writers to follow and engage and and- ykwim

Current WIPS? hmmmmm

• Eden Fables: The Inkweaver's Diary - (*NOT WRITING ALONE) So this one i won't give much detail, just know that me and my friends we're going absolutely insane over this book and the entire possible series and is our child, you're not fucking ready. The best fantasy book i ever written in my life TRUST ME. Blame Tolkien and C.S Lewis for inspiring us so much- (sorry for the vague synopsis muahahahah) A story of a boy displaced in time and space as he finds his heart and returns to his throne, finding a family along the way while dealing with the craziest adventures.

• Boreal City (future comic :O) - A retrofuturistic cyberpunk super-hero universe about many different points ot view and adventures that are actually connected (like the Marvel Comics universe or DC comics). Its being one of my favorites so far im having so much fun doing it hehe

Its very inspired by many superhero and retro-cyberpunk media, i cant count here how many hehe Synopsis (for at least one of the stories): From a family of superheroes, turned into a villain by his own demise, and disappearing for 5 years, GlitchWave makes his stupendous comeback in an unexpected redemption arc, and it all starts when he meets his brother again.....

• Gritia's Great Mystery - An amazing story about a corrupt kingdom trying to hide all evidence that god exists, aside from other...cruel crimes against certain groups of people. The aesthetic is a mix of enlightnment era, renassaice and victorian age, all together mixed with elements of thriller, romance, mystery and BIG drama. Maybe one of my most serious stories, since i wont hold back in the critics n shit

The Crown Family of Gritia, for centuries, tries to make the existence of the Mighty King, aka god, a tabboo, or even erase him from all existence, alongside his followers. Anything that goes astray the status quo is suscetible of punishment (or worse....)

That makes Spencer's life a bit complicated, even if he doesnt know abt the Mighty King's existence, he's part of a secret society...lets see where this goes right?

OOF DAMMT I SPOKE A LOT HUH SORRY IM A TALKER! Hope to find more writer friends along the way ^.^

[youngpettyqueen]

just finished Bloodletter! thoughts under the cut

tl;dr: SUCH A GOOD FUCKING BOOK easily one of my top favs of the DS9 books ive read so far

this book was a fucking RIIIIIIIDE and I loved it so much. some absolutely INSANE scenes, and such fantastic character exploration. just, holy shit, what a good book. I had a hard time putting it down. this was supposed to be my book for work but I couldnt stop myself from reading it at home as well. it was gripping, it was fun, it was beautifully written, it was everything I could've wanted

first of all, incredible Kira story. so brutal and so real, focuses so much on the heart of her character, her history with the resistance and how shes still so haunted and traumatized. this is early s1 Kira, still very hotheaded and clashing with Sisko, really feeling torn between two worlds and struggling to do right by Bajor. her story with the Redemptorists was INCREDIBLE. K. W. Jeter doesnt shy away from Kira's bloody past, and does so without condemning her, and god if you somehow managed to watch literally anything with Kira and NOT feel for her, this book will make you feel for her. Jeter has a fantastic grasp of Kira as a character and explores her beautifully, giving her this tense, gripping story that showcases all parts of her, viciousness and vulnerability holding hands and making for a wonderfully layered and complex story

I LOVED the villain of this novel. Hören was delicious to read, he was written super well, and im particularly a fan of the spirituality that permeates everything with him from the way he speaks, thinks, and even to the way he's described. he's terrifying in how realistic he is as a villain- a sadistic, fanatic man with followers in his echo chamber, mercilessly hunting and tormenting Kira. the sequences in this novel that were onboard the substation, with Kira having to hide from him and figure out how to defend herself while shes completely alone and he has the advantage, were genuinely nerve-racking. he's a very easy villain to hate, just so genuinely fucked up. I would've loved to actually see him on the screen, he would've made for a fantastic recurring villain in the early seasons, or even if just this novel had been a 2 part episode

the Sisko POVs of this novel were fascinating. again, this novel is set in early s1, so this is Sisko very early on, still trying to figure all this shit out. he's struggling with the Bajoran side of everything, struggling to find his place, and all the while he's butting heads with Kira and wrestling with the Cardassian government and his own morality as he finds himself stooping to their level in order to try to succeed for the sake of DS9 and the Federation and Bajor. Sisko really cant catch a break ever, especially not here, where he has to juggle officers determined to rebel against him, Cardassians breathing down his neck and lying to him, and Bajor relying on him while the Federation looms over his shoulder. its all just such fascinating insight into this character who has so much on his shoulders right from the get go, and who has to constantly try to make the best decisions in impossible situations

Julian's part in this novel is WILD. first of all- Julian and Kira besties agenda. I fucking LOVE that they genuinely dont like each other, it lines up really well with how they were in early s1. Kira cant stand Julian, and he doesnt particularly care for her, and theyre going on this mission together and they both nearly get killed and in the end they come to a sort of understanding. but what really got me with Julian was his sequence where he's trapped in the wormhole and actually communicates with the Prophets?? that was INSANE. god, its so fucking wild to think of Julian talking with the Prophets. these books are beta canon, I know, but the implications of Julian being one of the VERY few people who gets to talk to them... fascinating. and we get to see an early glimpse of just what Julian is willing to risk in order to save people- he gets himself sent to the literal death of the universe because thats the only way he can get to Kira without harming the Prophets. I love that the last scene of the novel was these two, Julian patching Kira up, and Kira agreeing to go get a drink with him. it felt like a natural progression in their relationship, going from hostile to an understanding, having gone through this really horrific thing together. Julian and Kira's relationship in the show isnt a big focus, and theyre friendly coworkers at best for the most part, but in my heart. they are besties

I would highly recommend this book to anyone wanting a really solid Kira story with some characteristically Trek insanity. this book is truly wild from start to finish, with some fantastic concepts and wild ideas, and I loved every second of it. Kira is shining brightly throughout, with a lovingly crafted and masterfully executed story behind her, and some of the best character writing ive encountered for her thus far in my journey into reading DS9 books. on top of that, youve got an amazing villain who will make your skin crawl, some great Julian character development, great Sisko moments, and even some fun stuff with Odo and Quark I didnt get to in my overall thoughts. seriously, go read this book, and thank me later its so so fucking good

[weirdcat1213]

HERE COMES THE PAIN WOWOWOWOWO

Trimax volume 5 thoughts :D

chap 1:

-RIGHT I HATE THIS CHAPTER CUZ IT MADE ME THINK I SKIPPED A CHAPTER BUT IT WAS A FUCKING FLASHBACK GOD FUCKING DAMN IT

-im...having feelings for sure

-GET ME OUT OF HERE

-im gonna put my head through the wall, i just fucking hate to see him like this

-HE WAS A LITTLE WAITER i hate everything

-PLS HE HAD ANOTHER HOME, PEOPLE LIKED HIMMMMMM

-oh that zoom to the eye is MESSED UP

-and yet...he manages to stand

-wait who ripped zazie's arm im confused

-oh it was that guy...why tho?

-GET THE GUN MERYL GET THE GUNN

chap 2:

-ah...fuck

-oh the vein geesus christ

-bro you had one job lmao

-also i dont think ww was born with any talent to kill or shit like that. i think its juts his determination to protect his home. hes walking the path of light but with blood

-YO WTH WHEN DID I MISS THAT EYE

-DALE MILLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

-YEAH WOLFWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

chap 3:

-NO NOT THIS CHAPTER NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-ITS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGG

-Vash from hallowbond is that you?

-oh its because the feathers touched him ooooohhhh.....ok i get it now

-OH THEY ALSO TOUCHED MERYL I FORGOT

-NO SHUT THE FUCK UP ALRIGHT?? SHUT THE FUCK UP KNIVES

-ok i fucking hate everything he is saying right now, like i want to fucking kill him but...........MAN THAT IS SO WELL WRITTEN ITS SCRATCHING MY INSIDES REAL GOOD

-i never thought vash has pride but...i kinda want to think about it now. ik how he is a contradiction in stampede but now i want to think about this

-TAKE HER NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH

-oh wow holy shit thats um holy crap

-NAH I DIDNT REMEMBER THE FUCKING CHILDREN WERE IN THAT PANEL NIGHTOW YOU MF

-its...really interesting how nightow made the antagonist watch how the disaster really happened....wow

chap 4:

-*insert villain by teniwoha*

-oh thats interesting meryl is getting small vash memories. is it because of what the other person wants to know from vash? gauntlet wanted to know why vash yeeted july and meryl wanted to know about his past...hmmm

-you mean his bf

-i can see why a wing popping off from the debris would be fucking terrifying but that just looks beautiful im sorry

-damn..betrayal everywhere huh

chap 5:

-this is so tense and complicated well done nightow

-MERYL WITH A STEEL CHAIR GUN

-ok but putting aside how much i love seeing vash go berserk...why did he go berserk, actually? if it was cuz of distress ill take it, im that simple

-then again knives said something about his power erasing everything, maybe thats his power trying to take over but why is his power winning right now, specifically

chap 6:

-bro you cant just make me cry with the title panel thats illegal

-SHES HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

-NIGHTOW I WILL FUCKING FIGHT YOU

-also theres something so hauntingly beautiful about making that panel mostly white, like its ignoring the chaos happening like hes blinded by the light

-pls just leave your brother alone....

-so the black space is inside his head yeah?

-and thats why i like this guy so much, he aint afraid of admitting he doesnt know stuff.

-:c

-oh geesus oh wow ok

-GUYS MY WIFE IS HERE EVERYONE BE COOL

-why is she so cool tho, not fair

-"i dont want you to die i want you to suffer"oh cmon now thats just mean

-...............................

-:c

[dextixer]

Performative Slacktivism - Or how CRWBY and the FNDM want brownie points without putting effort into actual representation

(Also, how the FNDM keep using Montys name for petty arguments like the ghoulish fucks they are)

I know that we all are waiting for tomorrows episode and the moderation team is already gearing up for a possible shitshow depending on what the episode decides to do. But today i have noticed a bit of an old discussion rearing up again that i really wanted to adress.

I think i will not be out of line to say that RT is a shit corporation. But that alone does not bother me too much, shit corporations are common in our day and age. What always got to me is how RT kept pretending to be progressive, how they put on a show of being pro LGBT+, pro people of colour and the like, and yet their products have for the most part been devoid of actually showing that.

Sure, the creators will SAY that they are LGBT+, and then take FIVE and TEN years to confirm a single lesbian relationship (Of one which is for side-characters). And they will include a trans character after SEVEN years of production (Only to later be revealed that the person who voice acted that character experienced shitty behaviour at work in regards to their identity).

They will SAY that they are pro people of colour, only for the four main characters of the show be so white they glow in the dark and most dark-skinned characters either being relegated to background characters, antagonists/villains and/or being stereotypes until 4 years after the start of RWBY, Oscar was created? Or should i mention the piss poor writing of their racism allegory and the WF, which is very much created based on the Civil Rights era in the US? Writing so shit that it somehow manages to spread alt-right messages without intending to?

What im trying to say is that RT are and always have been fake ass progressives. They arent even rainbow capitalists, even rainbow capitalists (like Disney) do more than RT. RT does not even bother to put even THAT much effort.

RT wants brownie points for being progressive while being ANYTHING but. That would be bad enough, but the rabid Fandom that RT has cultivated seems to be intent on doing EXACTLY the same.

This is the first tweet that i saw on the topic. Yang is Chinese? Since fucking when? Shes whiter than the fucking white bread i make sandwitches with. She is whiter than the fucking snow! Instead of "using ones brains" maybe you will use your eyes?

This lead me to more brainrot than i could ever post here, so i will only post a few of the comments that i saved before i felt my brain leaking out of my fucking ears.

It seems that most of the "arguments" around Yang being Chinese center around her name (Which, by the way is written in the OPPOSITE way than it should be). Which in my opinion is quite a stupid fucking argument considering that my last name from my mothers side is part Polish and part German (Not gonna post it for obvious reasons), but im pretty fucking sure i aint Polish OR German.

The other argument is that both Yang AND Ruby have Chinese culture in their designs? Let me remind you that Ruby wears a gothic Lolita outfit, wields a Scythe and if i am not misremembering had a fucking cross around her neck. What about THAT is chinese? The ONLY argument there would be that Ruby has Japanese inspirations due to the gothic Lolita outfit. Scythe is associated with European conception of death (And as a farming implement) and the Cross is in the same category. Not to mention that Ruby is based on an European Fairy tale of the Red Riding Hood!

Yang on the other hand is based off Goldylocks (Another European fairy Tale) and has associations with Beauty and the Beast (Yet ANOTHER European fairy Tale). Nothing of what she wears has any distinguishable style. In fact Yang is so generic you can put her anywhere in the world and it would most likely fit.

Also, "Her name references a martial artists" thing really reeks of fucking whiteness. Yes? It does? How is that relevant? If i am named after a martial artist im suddenly Chinese now???

There is also another very unsubtle sinophobia, when talking about the Branwens being Japanese to prove that Yang is Chinese... I know that to Americans regions very much become blurred but holy shit, the LACK of thought that China and Japan are not the same just because they share a race is...... Its fucking insane...

The only partially valid argument i have seen is that people of White colour can also be Chinese/Japanese or come from any part of the world. Which is fair. IN THE REAL WORLD. This aint the fucking real world! This world of Remnant is created! They dont even have our countries! Mistral has a mix of Japan/China/Greek aesthetics.

JUST LOOK AT THEM! The supposedly "German" Weiss somehow has MORE colour than the "Chinese" sisters! Blake is the only one that has actual colour in her cheeks (And is STILL white). Ruby and Yang look like they would glow in the dark if i turned off the light! They would make a fucking shut-in blush with how pale they are! They are whiter than the milk in my fucking Cereal!

And you know what makes me mad? Because the show COULD have made these people actually have features of people of colour. Blakes Parents live on a TROPICAL ISLAND! Why the fuck is Blakes skin not olive or even darker? It COULD have been! But it isnt! IF Yang and Ruby are Chinese, where the hell are there ANY identifying features of them being Chinese?

The reason is simple. RT DOESNT CARE ABOUT REPRESENTATION! IT does not give a single solitary shit on a sunny summer afternoon about progressivism. The main 4 characters of the show are 4 glow in the dark white girls voiced by.... White women! (Yknow, its funny how they say that Yang is chinese and then full on not even acknowledge the good old chestnut of "Minority roles should be given to minorities")

I hate these fake progressive fuckers from the bottom of my heart. These people are more interested at licking the boots of a shitty corporation than actual representation! There is no argument, no LOW these fanatics will not sink to as long as they can worship a capitalist corporation, and im sick and tired of them pretending to be progressive. Because they fucking aint.

Also...

I hope that the fandom who weaponizes Monty. Burns to the ground. Previously, i did not care about V10 being greelit. I would not mind if it got greenlit or not. But when i see shit like this, all i wish is for V10 to never be greenlit. So that ghoulish corpsedigging necromatic fucks would fuck off.

Imagine using Monty as a cudgel for petty internet arguments. The fandom is a shithole, and they can PRETEND to be nice all they wish. But everyone can see these fuckers act like this.

[itsdappleagain]

THIS WEEK'S THE WEEK, FOLKS hopefully

IM GOING TO TRY TO CATHC UP ON CS WEEKLY AW YEAH!! ALRIGHT YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

IT'S TIME FOR THE CHASING PAPER CAPER!

(look how cool these stars are they actually are sharp!! i folded a few of them, look!)

highly recommend- super easy to do with just sticky notes

ANYWAY here we go!!! notes under the cut as usual <3

MAN i am late on this episode but i am soo excited for it!!!

maelstrom wins for worst eyebags

sdjjfd mael's like yeah 💅 perhaps I am a little deranged

mael's va put his pussy into saying "intellect"

everyone and their mother has made vile presentation power point jokes already so im not going to beat a dead horse but. yeah. thats so fucking funny

CLEO ROLLS HER EYES AT BRUNT TOO HAHAHA

this bitch i stg

the way she smacks that table when she says darn right. i do believe her. she is texas proud. she would hate abortion

i also like that the show uses brunt as a vessel for the american seven year olds watching this who also have no idea what the magna carta is. its cool

i had no idea there were seventeen original copies of the magna carta. i guess i should have guessed but i think im used to the constitu- never mind there are 13 copies of that too. okay well we're learning today

okay so i think the museum the magna cartas is in is the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya?? it looks very similar

in style, if a little changed for the show. really cool! i guess they didnt want to have to try to pronounce the name though

law and disorder (svu theme chime)

stealing paper, yes. but have you considered that paper star also. folds and throws and destroys with that paper and is generally NOT great at keeping it intact

bark bark i love watching season 1 through a post-shadowsan reveal lens. he knows paper star IS a threat, unlike most of the other operatives, so he opposes the idea,,

love maelstrom just cutting shadowsan off with a vote. he's stealing the symbols of democracy so his colleagues cant keep skipping out on majority rules

there actually is a cafe on the museum grounds that isnt EXACTLY where carmen is sitting but is pretty close. cs team did their research with this one

some guy named john is so funny

player jumped from the very general "you can't be arrested for no reason" to "YOU CANT HAVE YOUR HORSE TAKEN AWAY FROM YOU" very quickly

well there isnt actually any "of the liberties" in the direct translation but alright

love how they have the english article "the" in the title of the magna cartas while talking about how its latin wheeze

rest in piece 3/4 turn views of the face. the carmen sandiego artstyle is beautiful until it has to neogotiate carmen not having a nose

interesting that the museum gets subtly lighted in green. we alll know what that means

i like the dramatic reveal of paper star but i also think. how did player not notice the security cams were already down

she had a lil choker

i love paper star so much. she's fantastic

she does make horse noises when she skips though, which is why jo likes her so much

yeah. paper star is so cool

hmmm

THEY HAVE NEVER WRITTEN A BETTER AND MORE DEFINING LINE IN THIS SHOW THAN "RED IS A SMART COLOR FOR YOU. IT WILL HIDE THE STAINS." WHAT THE FUCK THEY POPPED OFFF ON THAT LINE

SHE SAYS IT AND CARMEN CANT DO SHIT SHE JUST RUNS. CARMEN IS LITERALLY ON THE DEFENSIVE ALWAYS IN THIS FIGHT KSHFDSH ITS SO GOOD

you know shit is real when someone protects the face

i love how carmen puts her fists up to fight like a normal operative v carmen fight and then ps just pulls out the stars its so funny. its like the indiana jones scene when he just pulls out a gun

YES this fight is a challenge for carmen and i LOVE IT

LITERALLY WHAT COULD BE BETTER CARMEN ALMOST GETS STABBED IN THE NECK ITS GREAT. PAPER STAR IS A GREAT VILLAIN. YEAH

so glad kimiko glenn could voice her god she does such a good job

paper star used up the smear frame budget in this one scene alone

i love how carmen tries her quip and fight formula again and AGAIN paper star is like. no <3 i am going to rip you to shreds with this terrible pun i made up and carmen is SO OVER IT JSDHGHS

love how carmen didnt move like girlie what did you think she was going to do with those pamphlets

papertiger fans go wild

no way did that fucking tiger decapitate a stone statue what the fuck does she put in there knives??? paper star gives children razors in their halloween candy i guess

once again carmen's love for saving things that she has mostly already ruined causes her to have a disadvantage! it sure would suck if another falling statue at some point was weaponized. that would suck

LOOK AT THE GOUGES THOSE PAMPHLET STARS MADE WHAT THE FUCK

the cut hat staying there is so funny to me for some reason

dont try to be sneaky, carmen. just walk right up the center

the transitions with the tapestry and paperstar's folds are cool as fuck

HOW DID SHE GET UP THERE

also she disappears behind that second tapestry which means she was clinging onto the back of the fabric like a koala. good image

paper star: wraps carmen in a tapestry s4 evil carmen in the finale: hey that was a good idea. julia come here

paper star is the queerest bitch on the map at all times and i love her so much for that

laughing so hard imagining how many takes gina had to do of carmen's pained moaning as she struggles in the paper wrap

yeah. paper star. okay as if i haven't gushed about her enough she is. so good. the little mm-mm-mm! as carmen struggles. going against all of vile's ideals as she leaves traces EVERYWHERE and then pulls the fire alarm, not hiding in plain sight at all. she leaves carmen wrapped up for the cops. yeah. god. yeah

least favorite part of this episode of carmen being more upset about her hat than she is about losing The Fucking Magna Cartas and GOOD GRAVY SHE MOANS ABOUT THE HAT FOR SO LONG CARMEN YOU HAVE LIKE FIFTEEN

i love seeing the remains of the fight when acme steps in the next day!! you can track where paper star shot at carmen and then wrapped her up, where she was firing on the first floor, the different types of paper..

where did paper star put that glass circle she cut out

chase just randomly picks up evidence barehanded and then tosses it to the floor 2. fuck him fuck him straight to hell. so glad this is a pro-julia episode jhfashgdfa

all she does is romanticize the scoundrel it is all she CAN do

yeah acme is secret and not even their families know about it. but also every cop ever knows about it too okay

chase. thats it thats the post (i dont actually hate him. hes funny. but also insufferable at times. that is our wife you are slandering, sir)

i cant tell if i want to make a joke or a serious comment about how she's doing a finger gun at the image of carmen so i'll just leave it here

FULL OF LOVE AND AUTISM

chase: the only agent who has been face to face with her the train scene: i am about to ruin this whole man's career

HAH. says player. next on the news

(eda voice) look its an outdated human reference

why was le chevre up there. did he come down from the cliff face just for fun. or scale it just for fun. nevermind that checks out

the people in this show have ankles of steel they be dropping 20-30 feet and just fine with it

everyone tries to banter with paper star and she just. no

the shifty glance around from le chevre shdgkjsghd

the drop in her tone and face when she says he looks like he would get caught is so good

PIPPI PUNKSTOCKINGS

she is straight up torturing this guy how did paper star get past the censors

its like he was swinging his dick around in her face and going NOO NOT MY DICK PLEASE NOT MY DICK you are literally offering them as targets sir they are the closest thing to her

and from that day on fanfiction writers across the globe only called her tammy again

rOLL CREDITS /ref

oh i havent mentioned the music in this episode yet. its so good. yeah

the animation also is beautiful. the train is very nice w/ the reflections in the water

and then chase showed up to ruin her day

THE LITTLE tsk. ugh. SHE DOES IS SO FUNNY

i love how she's just humoring him he's not even in the realm of worth her full attention

honestly impressed by how chill chase is in the conversation? last time he was on a train with "her" he whipped off "her" hat and screamed in "her" face. then with ivy he jumped her snowmobile and triumphantly yelled at her again

he's just kind of like. yeah cool. im around carmen sandiego. we should have a lovely chat and then i shall get her to lead me calmly to the magna cartas. this could not possibly go wrong

love chase where did he think she was hiding them

awww theyre holding hands

criminal of this show to not show her kicking his ass in the tunnel it would have been soo funny

i love the little fakeout they do in the tunnel too. like omg did he cuff her??? no she used an uno reverse card

ALSO the little details of this show. before carmen says "or what? you'll cuff me?" she glances out the train window. she already has this scene so perfectly choreographed in her mind that she can just time the tunnel and make her escape its so good

acme keycard!!!! little did carmen know that pickpocketing that card would lead to coach brunt most of the way murdering her in a basement a few weeks from now

HERE WE GO YOU GUYS THE GAY SCENE OF ALL TIME

AGAIN julia is on her tablet gosh i dont know why i dont ever think of her as tech savvy but she is ALWAYS tapping on that thing

julia is so nice to her carmen just. sits dsgjagkdsh

THE WAY SORRY CAN YOU IMAGINE IF SOME RANDO HOT LADY SAT DOWN ACROSS FROM YOU WITH NO PERMISSION AND THEN JUST WENT PARTNER 🤨🤨🤨🤨???? AT YOU WHEN YOU MENTIONED THE WORD LIKE SHE WAS DOING HER MAKEUP (so it seemed) AND SHE JUST. DROPPED EVERYTHING

is the plausible reason that "partner" set off cop warnings in carmen's head? yes. but is the gay reason that she wanted to make sure she wasn't about to flirt with some poor married woman? also yes is the gay response to this gay reason julia canonically going "NO GOD IM NOT WITH HIM WITH HIM"? yes and yes!!

THE IMMEDIATE JULES GOD

julia puts down her tablet and gives her FULL attention to carmen to talk about the taj mahal,,, yeahh....

ALSO i enjoy how carmen maneuvers the conversation. she asks julia's name and then immediately asks an engaging question afterward so that julia doesn't think to ask for HER name...

love how julia leans forward to talk to carmen augh...she is so engaged and relaxed

that line is so fucking iconic. the Eyes she's giving. the lean. she loves history even more. the fucking setup for way down in season 4

HAHAAAA JULIA PICKS UP ON THAT LITTTLE TINY CLUE CARMEN DROPS HER SO FAST AND I LOVE THAT SO MUCH...THE WAY SHE JUST IMMEDIATELY SITS UP AND HER BRAIN GOES wait a minute something about that remark wasn't right YEAH...YEAH YEAH YEAH

AND THEN SHE JUST STANDS UP OUT OF SHOCK ONCE SHE REALIZES WHO SHE JUST CHATTED WITH HEHEHE

god i honestly think that if chase hadn't been putting her down and scoffing at her interests and making her stay behind at crime scenes she would have gone after carmen. can you IMAGINE how different the episode would have been if she'd gone after her???? GOD (i can imagine....i have imagined....the polycule has done....a LOT of imagining...)

that liiiittle glance behind that carmen does to see if julia is following her before she starts focusing on paper star..

man i NEVER used to be able to figure out how paper star sensed carmen peeking around the corner but i realized about a year ago that she saw her reflection in the window...AUGH the little details of this show are so good

THE WAY CARMEN JUST POUNCES ON HER IS SO FUNNY

that gay little roll. paper star makes every fight just a little gay actually. now kiss

those shoes must have hurt so bad to get kicked with ow

second toilet paper joke of the episode. laugh.

i love the pro-environment message this episode was halfheartedly trying to juggle. it did not come across fantastically

the way paper star's eyes light up when she sees new paper is great

PAPER STAR'S THEME IS SO GOOOD....HOW SHE JUST. she just goes. "you should run." somehow she's the most campy villain and the most down-to-earth serious threat could and would kill you villain in the show and she rocks both at once

paper star is vaccuming her

you also know shit gets real when the background turns into a mass of colored streaks

i ALSO love about paper star that she can and does hold her own in hand-to-hand. yeah she's bet with her stars but she can pack a punch or a kick

TELL ME HOW CARMEN NABBED THAT CASE IN THE MILLISECOND BETWEEN PAPER STAR GRABBING THE PAPERS AND DRAWING BACK

carmen: yes i do think i will run now

i also like this fight because we don't often get to see carmen fighting when she's not in her trench coat. it gives it a much more sporadic, caught-off-guard feel to the whole thing somehow- which is again a trademark of paper star!! she doesn't do things like everyone else

something about the way carmen sprints to the end of the train and then turns around is so fucking funny. yes that is the last car! congratulations! its a good thing you came up here instead of trapping yourself in the interior of the last car I guess

rock paper scissors wind

THE FLIP OVER THE SHOULDER GAY STARE IS ALSO ICONIC AND SUCH A GOOD MOVE. carmen initiated it but fuck if she knows what she's going to do afterwards

ill say it again and a fcuking gain how much i like how much of a threat paper star is. yes girl. fling her off the train not once (sort of) but twice. carmen was an inch away from falling headfirst off that train and she knew it

i am not sure how exactly carmen pulled herself up from a lean by grabbing paper star's boobs and pulling her towards her but im good with it. also look at this animation she is desperate!! yess!!!!!! EMOTION!!!!

AND LEGO HANDS!!!!

now KISS

OBSESSED WITH HOW STRONG PAPER STAR IS WHEEZE SHE JUST F L I N G S CARMEN OFF THE SIDE. HER FEET ARE OFF THE FLOOR. BYE

the couple not even looking up from the newspaper is so funny

i love the broken physics of that vent(?) cover (?) throw its extremely entertaining to watch

carmen's triumph motif playing and then cutting to paper star just hanging there while a crow squawks at her is very funny. she just looks at it. i would like to think she makes friends with it. she does like murder

"agent devineaux??" "mnyeh.."

AND SHE DELIVERS THE MAGNA CARTAS TO HERRRR

good hands :))))

i love that she doesn't even need to say anything. we are just left to understand that paper star did end up one-upping her here in the end, and its this moment that nearly kills both her and chase

sassypants

i like the contrast of brunt and cleo shielding themselves when she throws the card, versus maelstrom standing and not flinching. he knows her better than they do

damn

i thought that was a vase theyre just his pants

HEHEE GOD THATS A GOOD EPISODE. yeah. yeah. okay

thats all i have to say for this one. other than the french connections caper this is my favorite episode in season 1!!