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socially-awkward-skeleton · 9 months

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Tagged by: @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @v0idbuggy @direwombat @cassietrn @madparadoxum @simplegenius042 @henbased and @wrathfulrook for WIP goodness of one kind or another, thank you all so much!!

Tagging: @shallow-gravy @strangefable @stacispratt @eclecticwildflowers @ladyofedens-blog @poetikat @florbelles @josephseedismyfather @theelderhazelnut @marivenah @josephslittledeputy @peppertheferalraccoon @neverthesameneveranother @statichvm @strafethesesinners @roofgeese @confidentandgood @detectivelokis @clicheantagonist @chazz-anova @inafieldofdaisies @vampireninjabunnies-blog @voidika @derelictheretic @trench-rot (no pressure of course) and anyone else who has something to share

Also feel free to add/remove yourself on my writing or art tag lists :)

Somehow words happened!! idk if they are any good but when the muse strikes you gotta use it (aka I felt compelled to write two emotionally constipated curmudgeons slowly realizing they've caught feelings, but they still won't actually say those 3 words because isn't killing someone a better way of doing that??) Anyhoo...here's some Jacob POV:

Wiping his shirt over them to collect the sweat and blood off of their skin, she curled up against him like the lap cat she said she never would be. Rubbing the gray cotton up and down her, he mopped up the scarlet that had seeped into her pores as he stared down at her. It was in these rare moments of peace that he could properly observe her, just like he had when she was in the cages. If he didn't know her the way that he did, he could go with the basic compliment of calling her beautiful – and she was, there was no denying that fact (likely more than he deserved) – but more than that, Kit was everything he ever spoke about to his men to try to get them in line, to become the soldiers he expected them to be.

Would he say this was love? Jesus, that was a frightening thought to even try to comprehend. He’d been alone for so long, had made it that way, Lord knew no one else would want him – but she did. From that first moment in the church, when their eyes met and despite her being a stranger he could see the determination in her, that there was more to her below the surface than she presented to the world. Kit was a woman barely being used to her full potential even when she was fighting against them with the Resistance, and now to see her embracing everything he and Joseph had given her…he’d be lying if he tried to say she hadn’t preoccupied his thoughts for sometime, but now…now she was sinking into the very meat of him, she filled some hole he didn’t remember even having.

Stroking the damp strands of hair away from her face, his thumb ran against the scar above her cheekbone. He’d built a whole file on her and thought he knew all the ins and outs, yet even with all the information he had there were still some secrets about her he had yet to uncover – like how she’d gotten that little white scar on her cheek. It never would have mattered to him before, but the more he looked at her the more he was becoming ensnared in her. He’d always been the hunter, but he started to wonder if maybe she’d been right in those woods all along, he’d become prey to her after all…

His train of thought was quickly broken however, once she started pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw, stroking the side of his neck softly, the pads of her fingers caressing each of his scars with gentle care. The stark difference between her brutality and the sensitivity she could show was startling and caused a shiver to cascade down his spine, his eyes fluttering shut from her knowledge of just where and how to touch him.

“Well, that was just what I needed,” she said, voice still a smoky husk as she came down from her afterglow.

He huffed out a laugh and rubbed his hand down the length of her legs that curved over the armrest of the chair, fingers stroking against the scars that dotted her muscled flesh. “Sure put a target on your back with that video. Didn’t think you’d look quite so much like you enjoyed what you were doin’.”

“Was I not supposed to enjoy it?” Kit asked with a raised brow.

He’d broken her out of what was deemed fair and just by the society that had beaten them down and tried to make them weak, seeing her act so freely was inspiring. She was everything Joseph had promised she would be and based on her latest performance, he was sure more would happily come under their banner sooner than later. She would lead them through the darkness, and if they couldn’t or wouldn’t see what she promised to deliver, she’d grind them into the dirt under the heel of her boot. There could be no mistake made about what would happen to those deemed weak now.

“I’m glad ya did.” His gaze traveled over her, stained and sticky with drying blood, aquamarine eyes popped while ruby cascaded from her head and over her skin. She was more some feral goddess that ancient man would have praised - writing songs and making art in her name, willing to go to war and die for her - than a woman of the modern age. “I certainly got to reap the rewards from it afterwards.”

With a pleased hum she slipped her legs from the seat she’d taken on his lap and moved for the table across from them where the monitors sat to lean against it. She was never much for getting close even after he’d just been inside her, she maintained that safe distance from him. He understood why too. Vulnerability wasn’t something people like them got to indulge in. Made hard by the world, forged until unbreakable, steel cast around their hearts and minds to keep them (and the few who did manage to slip through the cracks) safe. Letting your guard down, opening yourself up to someone, was like jamming the knife into your own gut in a moment of weakness. It was just another thing he had her father to thank for.

“Don’t know what came over me, to be honest.” She pulled her hand through waves that were knotted, combing her fingers through the viscera that glued her strands together.

“I do. That was all instinct.” It was the same thing that overcame him after he’d gone after Winters. “You let yourself do what you do best, no fear of judgment, no so-called morals or ethics.” He leaned forward in his seat, finger pointed straight into the heart of her. “That was nature – ancient and primordial. How we used to be. Savage. Primal.” He looked into her eyes and immediately recognized the things he’d been searching for for so long, and they were all in her.

He brought his thumb to his nose and rubbed against the tip before fingers brushed through the whiskers beside the corners of his mouth as he cleared his throat and leaned back into his seat becoming the soldier and the tactician once more rather than a man who was about to say something stupid over the woman who sat across from him if he wasn’t careful. “I need to check in with John.”

#wip wednesday #wip whenever #skelly writes #american beasts #jacob seed #oc: kit cross #far cry 5

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myeuphoricmindset · 8 months

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Haunted by you — Eddie Munson

Chapter two

chapter one & tags/warnings — here

masterlist

Summary | Eddie Munson's ghost is haunting the house recently occupied by Daisy Morgan. Having been deceased for years, Eddie becomes visible only to her. As she adjusts to sharing her living space with an otherworldly presence, their relationship develops into a compelling yet forbidden romance between the living and the dead. But, how could that ever truly work?

➴ ➴ ➴

Perhaps her childhood visit to the bright white hospital with the grippy socks wasn't a mistake. This is the very reason they sent her away- because she saw people who weren't really there. But that was years ago; she was just a kid with a wild imagination and a talent for making up stories, or maybe that's what they made her believe. There hasn't been an encounter since, until now.

Daisy's gaze remained fixed on the man perched casually on her kitchen counter. The last remaining tear on Daisy's face falls as she stares blankly at him.

He said her name.

He's dead

He said her name.

And he's dead.

Trying to process all of this at once has given her a pounding headache. Daisy found herself teetering between laughter and continued tears. However, one thing she was certain of was her name lingered in the air between them. Her breath caught in her throat, and terror coursed through her at the way her name rolled off this stranger's lips.

"How do you know my name? Are you some sort of stalker?" Daisy's voice quivered with unease, but she found it simpler to ask this than to confront the perplexing notion that he is dead. All of this felt absurd, even ludicrous.

"No," he chuckled, then shook his head, his brown eyes reflecting concern as he observed her growing fear. "God, no."

He began to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender, but then a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he pointed at her, his brows furrowing.

"How could I be a stalker when you're in my house?"

"Stop avoiding my question. How do you know who I am?"

"Well, the officer said it. Ms. Daisy Morgan." He looks at her, his eyes trailing over her face.

The terror still courses through her veins, but as she looks at him longer he doesn't seem like a threat. His eyes radiate warmth, and even his tone, though tinged with sarcasm, carries a playful vibe. Besides, if he had bad intentions, wouldn't he have acted on them by now?

But then, there's that nagging worry: He could be one of those psychopaths that starts friendly, making you believe he's harmless and then he ends up cutting your limbs into tiny pieces and burying them in the backyard like a dog with a bone.

The stranger casually taps his chin, as though something suddenly came to mind, capturing Daisy's focus.

"Oh, and I know your name from Grace. That's your mom right?" He adds, though he appears to be well aware of the answer.

Daisy's stomach plummets.

He knows her name. He knows Grace. He knows how to get into this house. Questions bubble up ready to pop.

"You know —knew Grace?"

He shrugs, "We were roommates for a time. Although, she couldn't stand me. Even tried calling the priest to remove me." He shakes his head as he chuckles.

Daisy stares at him in disbelief, "Bullshit."

"I'm not bullshitting you," He gracefully slides off the counter, appearing unfazed. "The guy walked around throwing fucking holy water into the air. I mean, I hadn't been that entertained in years, so I quite enjoyed the performance."

He casually brushed his black jeans, as though the counter wasn't already spotless. Daisy couldn't help but wonder if he was a product of her imagination. But he moved and acted too real. She could feel his laugh within her chest and hear her name on his lips, making her whole body react. It's beginning to freak her out.

In an attempt to validate reality, she decides to employ a familiar tactic she had used in the past. Her strategy is simple: assign him a name. If she were to ask about his name and it differed from the one she had crafted in her thoughts, then she would find herself, well, let's just say she would be fucked. The silver lining is that it would confirm her sanity. However, the downside is that she would be faced with the disconcerting truth that she was, indeed, talking with a ghost. Either way, it was an unsettling situation.

Now, who does he look like?

Daisy studies the man before her, who persists on recounting his encounter with a priest. He is handsome, the pretty kind. The kind that might make others feel self-conscious. Because, who looks like that, anyway? His skin is flawlessly smooth, his curls look soft and fall just right, and his eyes are captivatingly deep brown. Brown isn't a special color, but the way it looks in his eyes makes you believe that it is. He carries himself with an effortless blend of confidence and ease, even as his words are often laced with sarcasm and playfulness.

Choosing a name is tough, but just to keep things simple, she goes with the first name that comes to mind: Joseph.

Daisy cuts in, her curiosity piqued, "What's your name?"

He looks down at her, "Oh, damn. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Eddie,"

Eddie. Not Joseph. Damn it.

He extends his hand for a handshake, but his gesture doesn't quite sit well with Daisy. Is he trying to be funny? Does he find this situation humorous?

Daisy isn't finding it amusing at all.

Clutching onto a fragile strand of hope that things might not be as they seem, Daisy cautiously raises her hand to meet his. His head tilts ever so slightly, assessing her, and their brown eyes locked as they await her next move.

He looks real, which shakes Daisy's convictions to their core. His chest rises and falls, his eyes blink, and his lips curve into a genuine smile. All too real.

"I'm not going to hurt you. If that is what you are worried about," he reassures her.

She didn't know what to expect, but the cold sensation against her palm just before her hand moved through his was not it.

"Well, shit. I was really hoping things would be different." He groans and leans back against the kitchen counter, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Different?"

"People usually don't see me. So, why can you?"

Daisy shrugs, feeling completely lost. How could she know? Right now, nothing makes sense. Frustrated, she gets to her feet, still feeling dazed.

"Listen," she says with a sigh, glancing around as if hoping her thoughts will magically clear up. "Maybe you should go haunt someone or something else. I can't handle... whatever this is. I need to go to bed and wake up with a clear head."

"No can do," he replies casually, making his way into the living room.

"W-what do you mean, 'can't do'?"

Daisy follows him, observing as he drums his fingers on the couch while walking toward the record player.

"She never played this, you know," he mentions, lifting an Etta James record and giving it a once-over. "Our music tastes, well," he hesitates briefly, exhaling softly, "weren't exactly similar, but it would've been nice to hear something. The house felt as lifeless as she was." He glances at Daisy, his expression slightly pained. "Sorry," He places the record sleeve back on the table.

Daisy shrugs it off. But, she does takes note that he can pick up things, which is odd because he can't even touch her. But it's not worth dwelling on. None of this matters. She just needs to usher this ghost boy out and get some sleep.

"Alright, Come on," she says, walking past him and holding the front door open.

Eddie's brow arches, and she can see him suppressing a smile, which irritates her. "It was a pleasur—well, not really. But you've had your spooky visit, so you can head back to hell or wherever you came from."

He chuckles, "Hell? Do I look like I belong there?"

She points at his shirt, giving him a sharp look.

Eddie's gaze drops to his shirt, bearing the words "Hellfire Club," and he erupts into laughter. His laughter reverberates through the otherwise silent home, perhaps the only laugh to echo within these walls since they were built.

Daisy, however, remains unamused, her eyes locked onto him.

Eddie glances at his wrist, checking his watch, and takes in a sharp breath. "You're right," he concedes, "I should head back to the club I manage in Hell. Got a lot of work waiting for me." He briefly meets her gaze before making his way toward the front door. "The devil really depends on me. Can't let him down."

"Good luck with that," Daisy replies, avoiding eye contact as she widens the door for his departure.

"Thank you, I'll need it."

Eddie steps outside, a smile lingering on his face, and Daisy wastes no time in closing the door. She releases a heavy sigh and leans her back against the door, feeling a sense of relief washing over her. But before she can fully let go of the weight on her shoulders, Eddie's voice shatters her moment.

"Fuck, I got my days mixed up. Hellfire doesn't meet until Tuesdays."

Daisy lets out a piercing scream as she notices Eddie's head protruding through the door, his body seemingly absent or on the other side. Whatever she's witnessing, it's absolutely terrifying.

"What the fuck!" She stumbles back, clutching the banister for support.

Eddie laughs as he casually walks through the door. No, not around it, but right through it. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Screw you," Daisy hisses.

"That's fair."

"Go away! Seriously," Daisy stands taller, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She takes a step forward, locking eyes with him. "I don't want you here," she says, her words deliberate and harsh.

Eddie's gaze softens, and his jaw tenses as he steps back. "If I could go, I would've left years ago. But I'm stuck here. So, you'll either have to deal with it or leave."

Leave? If only.

The reality is that she can't leave, and she doesn't want to stay. But she has to. There is nowhere for her to go. To make matters worse, she's utterly exhausted. If she were to lie down, even on the floor, she might fall asleep. Her eyelids feel as heavy as her heart.

"I have nowhere to go," Daisy admits softly.

They lock eyes, silence stretching between them. Something in his gaze begins to dissolve her anger. He's giving her those lost puppy eyes, and it's infuriatingly unfair. Why should she care if he's sad or hurt? She's only just met the guy. But she's not cruel; she still has a heart, even if it's shattered into a million pieces.

Eddie frowns. "Well, me neither. So, I guess we are stuck with each other."

Daisy's gaze drops, and she scolds herself for feeling a twinge of sympathy and for being harsh with him.

"So, what, you really are..."

"Dead? Yeah," Eddie replies casually.

It's sinking in, but not quite. Honestly, how does one even begin to grasp what's happening here? So, Daisy doesn't try to make sense of it. She accepts it, as if it's no big deal that she's standing here conversing with a ghost. It's the simplest way to cope and prevent a full-blown mental breakdown.

"Cool," Daisy says, sounding as stupid as she feels.

"Cool?" Eddie looks amused. "Well, okay then. Uh, should I show you to your room?"

"Wait, are you like... the dead butler?"

Eddie stifles a laugh as he rubs his face. "Don't you think I'd be wearing a suit or whatever butlers wear?"

"Yeah, you're right. Butlers definitely don't wear... that."

"That? What do you mean? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Eddie responds in a defensive yet playful tone.

Daisy sidesteps his question and grabs her bag. "So, this way?" She points upstairs and starts making her way up.

"Wait, no. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Eddie calls after her.

Daisy reaches the top of the stairs, where the hallway splits into two directions. She pauses, uncertain of which way to go. Eddie catches up, still muttering about her previous comment, but she interrupts him. "Which one isn't haunted by the ghost of my mother?"

"Oh, no. Grace isn't here. At least, I haven't seen her."

"Yeah, I'm sure she would have made her presence known by now." she says, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, I see. Mommy issues?"

Daisy shoots him a glare, and Eddie's lips tighten before he clears his throat. "Her room was downstairs, in case you were worried."

"I'm not worried, just curious," she replies, raising her chin.

"Mhm."

She rolls her eyes once more and pivots on her heel, heading for the room at the end of the hallway. Before she opens the door, she looks back at him. "Should I be concerned that you're going to watch me sleep?"

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, making his way back down the stairs. "Go to bed, Daisy." With the next step, he vanishes.

Daisy stands in the doorway, gazing at the stairs, doing her best to process her bizarre reality. Deciding not to dwell on it, she closes the door and flops onto the king-sized bed.

════ ⋆Eddie⋆ ════

Eddie gracefully glides into the dim, empty room below, with only the moonlight filtering through the windows. Yet, he doesn't require light, for he resides within the shadows.

There it is, or rather, there she is, sitting gracefully in the alcove, framed on a wall adorned with colors he's memorized over the years.

Daisy's brown hair appears duller, her eyes seemingly lacking depth now that he's met her face to face. It's now evident that Grace painted this from a photograph, not from her memory. She failed to capture Daisy's true beauty.

God, she was beautiful.

The house seems quiet to the average ear, but Eddie hears everything—the gentle brush of the wind against the windows, the slow drip of the upstairs bathroom sink, and the constant, distant tapping, a reminder that he's trapped in the in-between worlds.

He's grown accustomed to these sounds. What he wasn't accustomed to was the soft crying from the room just above him. An ache forms in his chest at the sound of Daisy's cries, a physical sensation he hasn't felt in years.

Maybe it's because he hasn't spoken with someone in an unhealthy amount of time, or perhaps it's because he feels compelled to care for this girl, having admired her on the wall for so long. He worries he might be the cause of her tears. But, from the moment she entered the house, it was evident she was upset about something, which eased his pain slightly, suggesting he might not be the cause. Yet, it awakens an old, familiar emotion—anger.

Who could have hurt her?

None of this should concern him. He doesn't truly know her. Loneliness and sadness within his mind have led him to create ideas and versions of a girl he's never met.

Shame and disgust wash over him, especially when he contemplates how she can see him and whether she might find a way to set him free from this house. The thought terrifies him, yet it also provides him with hope.

But how could he even begin to entertain such thoughts while she cries herself to sleep? He turns away from the moonlit painting, closes his eyes, and vanishes into the shadows.

┗━━━ chapter three coming soon ━━━┛

Taglist: @tlclick73, @eddiemunson4life420 @boxofsmittens @sweet-villain @all-time-otaku @enam3l @steveoswhore

Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x original character #Eddie Munson ghost #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x oc #myeuphoricmindset

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parachutingkitten · 6 months

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I have two sins that somwhat cohenside:

As a Cole stan for life I despise the Cole is gay HC and have had to abandon the tag because of its prevalence. Lavashipping is a NOTP and of all the art and edits I've seen polluting my Cole tag I still cant see any chemistry or dynamic between them besides they are both attractive. All the ninja ships are incest vibes (not just the gay ones. Looking at you Braincellshipping) to me as they treat eachother and call eachother brothers but at least there was tension and chemistry between the old days of Bruiseshipping. Lava's prevalence online had me quit for a long time as I couldnt understand why it randomly gained such traction and then showrunners made the dumb idea to try and bait fan perceptions in crystalized. I see cole as somewhat aromantic (although the term is mostly meaningless and used to describe anyone who is uncmfortable or disinterested with romance without analysing the deeper psychological reasons that might be the case) but he obviously wants to be a father and I don't see how any of his defined traits attribute to being the fans gay stand in besides the fact that fandom always has the urge to pick one to be the LGBT mascot and create content that isnt there simply for their own self indulgence. I like Coliel (if anyone remembers Seliel) as it leans into Coles obliviousness to advances while it shows off his honorable and protective personality. I don't find Cole particularly coded LGBT in any of the seasons up until Dragons rising, which the episode focussing it was badly written and OOC.

My other "sin" I suppose is I disown ALL of DR for being a horrible soft reboot that does everything a soft reboot shouldn't: messing with preestablished lore in an attempt to prop up these random new characters as just, if not more, powerful than our protagonists. The new writer has a horrible track record with character ensemble shows like TMNT 2012 and its a worthless slap in the face continuation of an ended series. The diologue is horrendously tacky and most jokes dont land. The push by the writers to add in fan characterizations and expand the lore beyond whats established is lazy and uninspired. There is so much left to explore in Ninjago the way it was. We never went to most of the continent but why try to write compelling stories and dramas with an already defined map when you could throw everything out the window and make your own sandbox, shoehorning it into Ninjago regardless on how ridiculous it looks and feels.

*exhale* alright. I lot to get through here.

there is nothing wrong with not HCing cole gay, especially if you seem him on the aro/ace spectrum. I'm in the exact same boat. And just because there are very prevalent gay interpretations of the text does not mean you have to adopt them, or watch them with that subtext in mind. The true potential episode can obviously really easily be read as a coming out allegory, and a lot of people have latched onto that. And good for them!

But it's just as easily read as a story about defying your parent's expectations for a career path- especially if that's something you can relate to. I think the episode works even better in that respect (cuz that's kinda more directly what it's about, but also) because it adds in this layer of also respecting the place where your parents came from and make their living with. Honestly, I didn't see any gay coding on my first watch through of that one dragons rising episode. I saw Cole's relationship with Geo as much more of a mentor/mentee thing, probably because he's typically taken on a father role. I thought Geo and Sora had more chemistry honestly, with that one scene where their bonding over rejection. That's the beauty of media, multiple interpretations! It sounds like you're letting the fandom color your viewing experience, and that's your problem. The crystalized kai/cole stuff can just as easily be read as brother shenanigans. Don't let fanon make things canon for you if you don't want them to.

I'm on the same page of not shipping the core 4 together. The early seasons were directly focused on their brotherhood in my view, so I get it. But, let's not begrudge people their imaginary LGBTQ rep. As far as I understand lavashipping took off cuz it's the only gay pairing of the main characters who could still potentially be canonically shipped together. Jaya and pixane are pretty set in stone, and lloyd is pretty much off limits. But kailor is very iffy in canon, and cole has never had a love interest. And even if I don't ship it, I can see the value of people having some level of hope that the show might give them some rep. But again, none of this means you have to ship it or feel bad for not shipping it.

Second, you've got some unique opinions on dragons rising. Cool. I don't think you're completely invalid or anything, but I do think some of these opinions might be a little biased?

You're mad it brought back the... finished tv show? The show that finished with crystalized? The worst possible ending of the show? Honestly, it wasn't that much more conclusive than other seasons. Ninjago has always struck me as an evergreen property- a world with endless adventures in it. To begrudge future stories for existing seems a little selfish to me. Ninjago should be a property that new kids can get into for years to come. I've got some problems with what dragons rising has done. I don't think the merge was the best way to go. I hate how needlessly small it makes everything feel. I think sora is a little too chosen-one-y. There are things to criticize here. But it's pulling a lot off. I think it's balanced screen time between old characters and new characters pretty well. It's established a fairly unique identity for itself, which can be a real struggle for sequel content. Again, I think you're coming into it with a distorted fandom lens which is making you hate it more. Not to say that you're wrong, but you're feelings associated with your opinions may be a little exaggerated.

if you have a sin you would like to confess, please direct it to @ninjago-sins

#ninjago #asks #thanks!#give me your sins #let go of the hate in your heart #dr is letting these characters keep living #and i love it for that alone

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sunflowerdigs · 1 year

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So, I can't in good faith complain about the Succession trailers being 90% made up of cut scenes because, if I'm honest, the only reason I'm really upset about that is because of the cut Mencken scenes, which I was really looking forward to (and Tabitha!).

However, I feel like I need to say something about the Tomgreg stuff because it's been bothering me.

As a disclaimer, I hate Tomgreg. Truly. I blocked the tag earlier this year. Imo, it's an example of people taking a relationship based primarily in toxic masculinity and kind of transposing queerness into it as a reaction to the lack of actual queerness on the show. And I hate that tendency a lot. However, I'm also not the arbiter of which dynamics and characters people read as queer. And, clearly, a ton of people disagree with me. And for that reason, the reluctance to call out the marketing team for basically by definition queerbaiting with Tomgreg because they're technically not connected to the writing of the series is...Not Good to me. Because it kinda gives networks carte blanche to do that in the future with actual queer storylines and excuse it by saying that the marketing team wasn't aware of what the writing team were doing, they just wanted to sell a product. I can see a world where queer storylines become more and more cynically used for marketing purposes only, and aren't put into the text of shows or movies (or are added in sloppy, homophobic ways). And that's...not a great outcome.

It's tricky with Succession because it's just such a great show that you won't get very far criticizing anything about it. Black people have criticized its use of rap/hiphop music when there are zero black characters for years and those complaints have mostly fallen on deaf ears. Plus, tomgreg was never going to happen and there's also a really compelling reason for their dynamic drying up (it was 95% about power, not love or genuine caring, and in s4, they got that power).

However, as a closing thought, it's worth considering the huge difference between the way that Romangerri (which is in a similar spot) and Tomgreg were advertised for s4. They deliberately backed off Romangerri - they cooled the advertising for them right down to almost nothing prior to s4. Kieran and JSC haven't done a single interview together, I don't think. And there were almost no shots of them together on the red carpet. And I think they did that because the marketing team knew that falsely advertising a straight couple that straight people were excited about would get them in trouble (with critics who liked that couple, at the very least). However, at the same time, they ramped up the marketing for Tomgreg so hard that I was genuinely worried it might actually happen (Jesse is crazy, you know?). And I think they did that because, at the end of the day, queer feelings aren't particularly real for them. Queer couples and characters exist primarily to add color to the fictional worlds that straight people inhabit. And until that changes...more of this crap is bound to happen. It's a concern when straight people might be disappointed; queer people cannot be disappointed because our existence in fiction is mostly a joke anyway.

I guess my point in writing this is just to say that, although I loathe Tomgreg, I understand the desire for actual queer characters on a show as rare as Succession. I get how powerful that desire can become. And while I'm personally glad that their relationship isn't what shippers may have wanted, I understand also how the marketing for the show exacerbated those wants, and I'm sympathetic.

#tomgreg #succession #my thoughts

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finelinens · 7 months

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why tf you putting wincest on my dashboard in 2023….weirdo

i don't have a desire to respond to this in an abrasive way despite the aggression i feel from you, so i'm going to respond as genuinely as i can. wincest is a make-believe interpretation of a story about make-believe characters. as tumblr's favorite poet, richard siken, once said:

i enjoy fiction. incest is a very common theme in fiction, and has been for as long as fiction has existed. therefore, i am capable of enjoying incest in fiction. it is a great vehicle for storytelling, and in supernatural it's deliberately hinted at and poked-fun at in a way which adds more unsettling and emotionally compelling layers to the characters and their dynamics with each other. fiction is a medium through which we can only hope to capture a glimpse of humanity, and that includes the uncomfortable and disquieting and forbidden and grotesque.

personally, i’m not going to call people "weirdos" or belittle them in any other way for their fictional interests because i am a decently well-adjusted adult and i know how to mind my business. i also know how to avoid things i don’t want to see online, and it's actually pretty easy to do so. the rest of my followers who have seen me posting about the incest themes in supernatural have either simply kept scrolling, or sent me asks to continue the discussion in a thoughtful manner. hopefully you've helped yourself out by muting my supernatural tag or simply unfollowing me, whichever suits you.

i hope that in the future you're more willing to approach strangers with kindness rather than disgust. have a nice day!

#ask #supernatural #i just don't have it in me to respond to this ask in a similar tone to theirs and i'm honestly glad for that. everyone deserves kindness #even the people who don't extend kindness to you first #maybe even especially them #i've worked with books my whole life. i have celebrated banned books week since elementary school #i am the simply not going to judge people based on what kind of fiction they find compelling #that's a very silly thing to do #also this is my first time watching spn! i'm just posting about my observations with 0 knowledge about the show. it's good!

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unrealization · 18 days

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

Well, this account was me desperately grasping for the feeling doing RP used to give me. It started with a desire to write certain characters from Dead By Daylight, but I figured I may as well add every character I've written in the past as well so I could finally have the space to keep them all at least somewhat alive. I could go into more specifics for specific muses, but we'd be here all day.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

To be honest? No. Unless I get stuck writing the same type of plot over and over again I'm pretty much happy to do anything. I'm sure everyone gets the ick from something every now and then, but it tends to be something I stumble into. There are a few ships that I simply won't write if that will suffice as an answer.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

Angst, I guess. I like putting characters in dark places so they can really show you who they are. I actually struggle with characters who are too well-adjusted and happy. My home is in the cracks in their psyche.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

Oh of course. Every single character I've ever thought seriously about has a few. I don't think anyone doesn't, despite some people saying so. There are simply so many gaps in your average story to be filled that we feel compelled to fill them. Canon tells me how a character behaves in their element, and I NEED headcanons to take them out of that element.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Music, for sure. I have a very large writing playlist that I've compiled over the years filled with music that inspires me without being too distracting. Sometimes I will actually pick music to fit the mood of what I'm writing to keep myself focused. It is basically the only antidote for losing myself in a thought black hole at times.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

It depends. Generally I like to give myself a little outline if I can. Plan out certain beats that I need to hit in a reply. Other times the idea just hits like a wave and I just let it carry me out.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

Oh yeah, of course. Its funny because in the context of RP I've actually found myself enjoying really random ships I would have never considered otherwise but I had a great partner and we made it work somehow.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Irons! Yeah I'm not sure I even remember where it came from or when I started using it, but it is unique enough, and I'm attached to it. Several IRL friends even call me Irons. It is literally nothing like my real name, either.

ᴀɢᴇ?

30. Been writing since I was 9 if you want an idea of how much time its been for me.

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

August 15th!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

I tend to be drawn to reds. Go figure, right?

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Impossible to pick a favorite.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

I think it was When Evil Lurks. Very interesting movie, but don't watch it if you're not down to see some fucked up shit.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Invincible.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

No More What Ifs

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

I'm very into sushi. Please try to find a good sushi place near you, I promise you won't regret it.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Autumn. Big Haloween fan, and it means Summer is over.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

Honestly? No. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I barely talk to anybody here. Its not that I don't want to, I'm just never sure what the best way to engage is. I guess I'm inclined to say topaz (@ruiination/@ochazos) But that barely counts since we know each other outside of the site. Still I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for them always encouraging me so I'm comfortable naming them as such.

tagged: Stolen from @yukcri

Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

#meta ✎ ooc #[I know this doesn't count as activity]

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xoxoemynn · 2 years

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OFMD Fic Writer Appreciation Day - The Fics!

For fic writer appreciation day, I asked OFMD fic writers to share the story they’re the most proud of -- not necessarily the one with the most hits or kudos or comments, but the one that holds a special place in their hearts.

I’ve really enjoyed making my way through all the responses and wanted to share with all of you! We’ve got fics of all lengths and ratings and fitting pretty much any mood. The list got really long so I put them behind a cut, but I do hope you’ll check these out and leave some love for the creators. (I just compiled basic info, so please mind any tags or warnings in the link.)

Also, once again, writers! Please do not be shy! Share out the stories you worked hard on, the ones you struggled with, the ones that flew out of your fingertips, the ones that have extra special personal meaning to you. Reblog your fics out the wazoo, add your stories onto this list, or just drop them into my inbox.

Thank you all for sharing your creativity with us. 💕

Prisons Of Our Own Perceptions by @chocolatepot [Mature | 22K | Ed x Stede] Ed had been interested in tracking down the so-called "Gentleman Pirate" for months. What sort of gentleman commissioned a ship and fled his life of luxury for one of bloodshed and backstabbing? And by all accounts, particularly Izzy’s, he was a terrible pirate. Completely incompetent. It made no sense … but it was compelling. And the thing was, Ed didn’t find much compelling these days. After being sold out to the Spanish, the Revenge was "rescued" by Charles Vane rather than Blackbeard - and unlike Edward, Vane doesn't see Stede as an equal. After weeks of captivity on Vane's ship, Ed and Stede meet, and something begins ...

baby, would you find that so odd? by @eluciferate [Teen | 6K | Ed x Stede] Ed shaves his beard at the reformatory and thinks he might like what he sees. even after everything is over, he's less sure that Stede does.

the earth of me by @eluciferate [2K | Mature | Ed x Stede] tfw you go to the get tied up store and you accidentally end up with a gender

the importance of outspokenness by @eluciferate [Teen | 5K | Ed x Stede, Ed x Anne Bonny x Mary Read] How Ed found herself the first time, then found her way back.

riches and wonders by @emi--rose [Explicit | 9K | Ed x Stede, Ed x Mary, Ed x Stede x Mary] Ed Teach and Mary Bonnet get along like a house on fire, as they find out when a totally reasonable attempt to drop off birthday gifts for Alma goes off the rails.

Hungry for love, ready to drown by @epersonae [Teen | 8K | Ed x Stede] Later, much later, Stede realizes he can divide his life into two parts, split by that exact moment: when by all rights he should have been dead, gut-stabbed and strung up, and instead the most beautiful man he’d ever seen strolled up to him through fire and smoke and men screaming. A re-telling of the story as Stede grapples with his (unknown even to him) feelings for one Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard.

intricate rituals by @forlorn-kumquat [Teen | 6K | Ed x Stede] a pirate's life is not one that leads to casual touches. luckily for Ed, Stede's not the typical pirate. (or: five times Stede braided Ed's hair and one time Ed returned the favor)

Clarity by @kat0nline [44K | Explicit | Ed x Stede, Mary x Doug, Jim x Oluwande] After an accident upends Stede and Ed's fragile new relationship, Ed fights to bring Stede back.

If You Were Mine to Keep by @mysterybees [53K | Explicit | Ed x Stede] Caught between the gallows and the end of an English sword, Ed accepts the Act of Grace: marry into the aristocracy, leave the English ships alone, and live to sail another day. But who in their right mind would ever agree to marry the mad devil pirate Blackbeard?

The Inked Moth by @newnewyorker93 [1K | Gen | Ed x Stede] Ed gives Stede his first tattoo.

Chasing Storms by @not-nervous-jester [167K | Mature | Ed x Stede] Blackbeard returns to The Revenge to discover that Izzy Hands is no longer on board. He navigates his grief and Stede navigates a way back to the man he loves.

The Kraken and the Lighthouse by @nyominebula [27K | Teen | Ed x Stede] Ed puts Stede in the closet until he can deal with his emotions.

all that i am led me to you by @profdanglaisstuff [16K | Teen | Ed x Stede, Mary x Doug] For ten years, Mary Allamby Bonnet has barely given any thought to her "late" husband Stede. She's been far too busy enjoying her life as his wealthy widow. Until the night that Stede appears at her door, badly wounded, in the arms of the most feared pirate in history. Until that moment Mary had never truly believed the Wanted posters that claimed Stede as a "known associate" of Blackbeard's. Yet here he is, in her home, less the legendary pirate captain than simply Stede's Ed, a man terrified of losing the love of his life. He won't, though. Not if Mary has anything to say about it. Or, Mary and Ed nurse Stede back to health and in doing so form a friendship.

Lighthouse Coffee by @profdanglaisstuff [7K | Mature | Ed x Stede] Ed Teach is the best P.I. in the business. Brilliant, observant, always two steps ahead—and completely fed up with all of it. He’s frustrated, burnt out, yearning for something different. But what? Nothing ever changes in his narrow, rigid life. He’s starting to think that nothing ever could. Until one day a new coffee shop opens up on the floor below his agency, run by a man unlike any he’s ever met before. Stede Bonnet doesn’t play by any of the rules—he doesn’t even seem to realise they exist. He fascinates Ed from the moment they meet and makes him think that maybe… maybe he might be able to have a different sort of life. The kind he’s always wanted but never thought he deserved. Now if only someone would stop trying to kill Stede long enough for that to happen.

stay the course by @sarriane [35K | Teen | Ed x Stede] Ed has been stuck in a rut since Stede left. He would like nothing more than to shut himself away, but his crew needs a captain, there’s a cat inside his cabin, and bounty hunters have begun to target pirates on the high seas. And Stede? Stede has a plan to take back the Revenge and make things right. What’s a little piracy amongst pirates?

Ace of Hearts series by @thetardigrape [28K | Explicit | Ed x Stede] Asexual Stede explores being in a physically intimate relationship with Ed, the love of his life.

The training of Izzy Hands by @elfenixnegro [33K | Explicit | Ed x Stede, Stede x Izzy, Ed x Izzy, Black Pete x Lucius, Jim x Oluwande, Izzy and Jim] Israel Hands was efficient, brutal and loyal, which got him a spot at Blackbeard’s side. But Blackbeard is dead now, only Edward Teach remains, a man who has no use for a brutal masochistic first mate. But chance it has it that maybe Stede Bonnet who killed Blackbeard could give purpose to the broken Izzy Hands.

Chains of Love by @three--rings [26K | Explicit | Ed x Stede] When Blackbeard learns Stede Bonnet isn't dead, but is instead being sold as a prisoner, he rushes to buy him. He thinks that this may be the perfect opportunity to show Bonnet that you don't fuck with Edward Teach. Stede, on the other hand, just sees this as a perfect opportunity to explain himself. After all, he knows where he belongs now, and it's by Ed's side, even when Ed is...not quite the same man he left behind.

The Merry Strays of Lighthouse Sanctuary by @xoxoemynn [3K | Gen | Ed x Stede] An AU where Stede Bonnet owns a rather unusual animal shelter that prides itself on always being able to find the perfect match for anyone seeking a companion, and Edward Teach has decided he's in need of a pet.

#Our Flag Means Death #OFMD #OFMD fic #OFMD fan fic #OFMD fic recs #cross my fingers hope to die I didn't mess up any of these links #also idk why tumblr won't let me tag some people >:(#but I really loved seeing all the stories that mean the most to you #making a reminder to myself to do this again next year because this is my fave curateed reading list

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creabirds · 4 months

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the lovely @albonoooo tagged me to share my 10 favorite reads of 2023. oh boy, here we go.

so far i've read 61 books this year (which is below my goal grrr but whatever. when life hits you or something) so it's a tough decision. these are in no particular order:

once there were wolves - charlotte mcconaghy | a really haunting novel set in the scottish highlands revolving around a woman who is working on a project to rewild wolves to the area. the writing is brain-meltingly beautiful. please look up the content warnings tho!

middlegame - seanan mcguire | i do not know how to explain this one except it is absolutely brilliant??? about a boy and a girl with very special talents in language and maths, respectively (and they're not in love!). and like, alchemy and human experimentation. it's very weird but alas, i love weird books

girl, woman, other - bernardine evaristo | a beautifully interwoven story about the lives of twelve black British women (& other) that explores family and love in such a compelling way!!! it certainly didn't win the booker prize without reason

bunny - mona awad | if you like weird things this is the book for you. also if you enjoy unreliable narration, (toxic) female friendships and dark academia. it's a girl's right to be weird and slightly cult-ish

yellowface - r.f. kuang | i cannot make this list without mentioning r.f. kuang bc she is the loml. this book is not my favorite by her but it was certainly a banger, as always. if you're interested in topics of post-colonialism and systemic racism you should never miss out on her books

the deep - solomon rivers | magical alternate history about a mysterious mermaid population in a vaguely post-apocalyptic world. lovely portrayal of culture, (shared) memory and generational trauma

she who became the sun - shelley parker-chan | just another asian-inspired fantasy to add to my list of favorites because i just love them so much. this one was so fun and has queer and nb rep!!!

none of this is serious - catherine prasifka | i didn't really ENJOY reading this bc it kept calling me tf out the whole time. if you, like me, find yourself living in existential dread, the anxiety of a small rabbit being chased by lions, and a crippling social media addiction, this will be a fun one to get through

the raven cycle - maggie stiefvater | i've just finished my THIRD reread of this series in 5 or so odd years. yes it is that good. if you haven't read it GO NOW. it's ya but i promise it's not very ya-ish. paranormal fantasy / magical realism / legends and the most likable cast of characters you will ever see (did you say: where can i find ya books with female mcs that have a personality? the answer is HERE)

her body and other parties - carmen maria machado | i've never really read a short story collection before so this was an interesting experience. i loved some of them more than others but they're def worth a read, some even mind-boggling

sorry for rambling but if you truly expect an english major to not go on a rant about books you've been sorely mistaken

if you ever need book recs please feel free to slide into my inbox/dms i am a walking library

tagging @wanderingblindly @grubbyraccoonhands @drivestraight @maxcuntstappen and whoever wants to do it im not sure who of you reads books besides slurping down fanfic like its melted gummybears so uh.

#tag games #crea.txt

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chinsims · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 mutuals

Thank you @nectar-cellar for tagging me! I enjoyed reading your answers.

I think it’s my first time participating in one of these, so hopefully I can do it right!

my answers:

1. Are you named after anyone?

Legally, an actress. By choice, I took a masculine version of my grandmother’s name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I’m actually not sure. The most recent time I can remember was last month when I got overwhelmed after worrying that a coyote had stalked me (don’t worry, it ended up being fine). I have probably cried more recently, though.

3. Do you have kids?

Nope! It’ll probably be a long time until I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not as much as I used to, but still quite a bit for someone who can’t tell when other people are being sarcastic lol.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

I’ve never been that interested in sports due to all the rules, but I used to be really competitive about running for some reason.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

The way people walk tends to stick with me. I know some people with very distinctive walks, so that tends to stand out. I’ve even had to double check that strangers weren’t secretly people I know because the patterns were similar.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I like anything that I find personally compelling. I tend to pick up mostly on the choices made with the style and the theme, so I think both have their strengths. I do tend to lean more towards darker themes, however. I (unfortunately) really enjoy Funny Games (1997) and what it does with fourth wall breaks. I could ramble quite a bit about just how much I love (and hate) that film. I also really like the short film Meshes of the Afternoon (1943). I need to get caught up on more recent movies though.

8. Any special talents?

Depends on whether the emphasis is on special or talent. A somewhat special thing about me is that I have very flexible shoulder and hip joints and have double jointed fingers. I’m also fixated on altered states, so I forced myself to be very suggestible to meditative states and learned that I could auto-write when I dropped lucy (it was supposedly for spirits, which I don’t think I believe in personally, but at the very least I’ve been slowly able to tap into something in my own subconscious, so that’s kinda neat!).

9. Where were you born?

California

10. What are your hobbies?

I’m a musician, I’ve been getting into auto-writing, I used to be obsessed with inventing this thing called polyrhythm hopscotch, I’m working on some film stuff with a few of my friends (which is super exciting!), and making cc for the sims 3 :)

11. Do you have any pets?

Yes! I have a dog and a cat. They are both cuties.

12. How tall are you?

5′ 2″ last time I was measured, although I think that was 4 years ago.

13. Fave subject in school?

I liked most subjects for different reasons. I was the least jazzed about my art classes though. This was mostly because it was actually an instruction following class, and I feel compelled to do at least one thing that goes against instructions when it comes to anything creative.

14. Dream job?

Full-time musician. I recently switched my major to music, so I’ll always be working in the same field, even if it’s more of the technical aspects!

15. Eye color?

Brown.

Let me see who I haven’t seen tagged yet:

@xiasimla @nornities @simdreams @venusprincess-ts3 @getboolpropped

@omedapixel @tripstaysnoided @tsims

I think most people I’m mutuals with have either already done it at this point or don’t typically do tag games, but if I can think of anyone else who might want to do this I’ll add them to this list!

#tag game

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duhragonball · 1 year

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Dragon Ball Super 048

What’s that? The Zamasu Saga doesn’t suck enough? Well, what if we throw in some Pilaf!

In the future, Trunks flies into a rage and attacks Goku Black for killing (ha!) Mai. But it doesn’t work. Black is too strong, so all Trunks can do is throw his sword like a boomerang to spoil Black’s aim, then use a Masenko to cover his escape.

By the time Black locates Trunks, he’s already launched the time machine, and he disappears into the past before Black can figure out what’s happened. All he knows for sure is that Trunks is gone.

Meanwhile, in the present day main timeline, we find this world’s Trunks doing a math class in his home. I guess Bulma hired a tutor or something. Also, he’s got Pilaf, Mai, and Shu taking the classes with him.

This is another huge problem with this arc. In a lot of episodes, time is pissed away by having the Pillaf gang uselessly comment on whatever is happening. We’ll see this demonstrated later, but in this scene Pilaf does a whole bit when Trunks struggles to solve a math problem. Everything just turns into this long, drawn out nonsense whenever Pilaf is nearby, because he doesn’t understand what’s going on with the plot, and no one ever explains it to him, and yet he feels compelled to babble endlessly about it. And the people making this show thought you really wanted to see every second of this.

There is a scene here which I appreciate. I must have missed it on the first viewing in 2016, but Mai thanks Trunks for letting them live in the Capsule Corp. building. This happened off-screen, but according to Trunks, they seemed to be having a hard time, and the house has plenty of rooms, so why not invite them to live here? The way the Pilaf Gang have been lurking around so many major characters lately, it’s probably not much of a stretch that they ran into Trunks recently.

The point of this, of course, is that Trunks is sweet on Kid Mai, which is meant to reflect the apparent relationship between Future Trunks and Future Mai. This saga keeps insisting that this somehow matters, but it never leads to any profound connection. Pilaf and Shu keep talking about it anyway, though, so that’s another tedious thing to sit through.

While they eat lunch on the balcony, they notice the time machine arriving in the backyard, and Trunks is astonished to find his future self inside. Of course he doesn’t realize it’s his future self just yet. Starting out, he’s just confused by the resemblance, and he doesn’t understand why Bulma keeps calling him “Trunks” too. Pilaf speculates that Future Trunks is actually a secret love child Bulma had long before she married Vegeta.

Much of this episode is an obnoxious game of telephone. Trunks gets Pilaf to get Shu to get Bulma, who then tells Whis to tell Vegeta to tell Goku to tell Korin to get a senzu bean for Future Trunks. This is like watching someone dial a phone in a movie. You don’t have to show this part, dammit!

Also, everyone keeps freaking the fuck out in this episode, which is just really annoying.

Oh, Korin’s playing limbo. But he admits he doesn’t enjoy it much.

So Trunks finally gets his senzu bean and wakes up to see his parents and Goku. And he attacks Goku, mistaking him for his mysterious enemy in his own timeline. And that’s the cliffhanger.

Oh, and Beerus and Whis tagged along, because they have absolutely nothing to do with this nonsense, and shoehorning them into a story arc is just one more bad move to add to the pile.

That’s a nice gazebo, though. Gohan and Videl probably made out in there once or twice, don’t you think? Sorry, I’m just trying to distract myself from this.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #trunks #goku #vegeta #goku black #beerus #whis #mai #emperor pilaf #shu #bulma #korin #yajirobe #fuck the zamasu saga forever

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

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Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty Six.

Previous Chapters - One Two, Part One Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven Twenty Eight Twenty Nine Thirty Thirty One Thirty Two Thirty Three Thirty Four Thirty Five

Words - 4,009

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"Is it okay that we don't get out of bed much today? I really don't feel like sharing you with anyone, even if that is selfish as I'm sure there's a load of people who want to see you after you got back," I tell Angel, wrapped up in his arms in bed the day after Christmas, just after the sun has finally melted into the horizon, the sky swathed in rich darkness.

"No, that's fine. Eric and Sal have left me messages with Ursula saying they want to come round to see me, but I can put them off until later. As for staying in bed all evening, I think that's entirely possible. I can wait until tomorrow to go and buy a new cell phone. Everyone I want to talk to is under this roof already or is going to be here later. I'm content for us to stay exactly where we are," he murmurs, stroking my hair. I feel so happy, and still in a state of shock really if I'm truthful.

I thought he was dead, or at least the permanent version of dead for vampires, and now here he is lying next to me again. I called Ahmed, Sasha, Vic and Aileen last night before we went to bed, and they were absolutely stunned at my news, but thrilled for me all the same. I just can't believe my luck, I really can't.

I also cannot believe the strength and determination it took for him to get back to me, or the fact that I was the first person he was compelled to get to first. The thought of what could have happened if those guys hadn't had good hearts… it makes me shudder to think he'd have been thrown over the side to be condemned to a watery grave. It horrifies me because he wouldn't have died right away either, so he told me last night when we sat talking before going to bed, it would have taken time for him to have shut down completely.

"You're going to have to get used to me becoming somewhat of a clingy girlfriend, because I have to confess, I'm frightened to let you out of my sight at present in case you don't come back," I reveal, turning onto my front and stroking his chest while I look down at him.

He reaches for me, thumb circling the apple of my cheek. "I understand that. You must have gone through so much over the last three days prior to yesterday.”

"I did. I was a completely broken and distraught mess. Seeing, and feeling Ursula's pain though, I have a blood tie with her now by the way, that was something else entirely. It ripped her heart in two to lose you," I explain, his hand moving from my cheek to stroke my hair.

"Why the blood tie with Ursula?"

"One of those guys dragging you out of the shop when you were taken elbowed me straight in the cheek and broke it," I reply, feeling his anger rise up like a firework.

I move to placate him, resting my head onto his chest, stroking the side of his neck. "Calm down, don't go getting yourself all pissed off. I'm fine, Ursula's blood healed me in about three seconds. Damn, that's potent stuff.” He settles instantly, smiling happily once more. "She also thought it safe she have a link to me too, just in case I get in any danger." I then add, before the lady herself knocks on the door.

"Are you both presentable?" she asks after her soft tap.

"Yes," we call back. She then enters and sits down at the other end of the bed while I sit up, propping myself up on a pillow.

"I bring news, significant news at that. I just took a telephone call from Elias. Fifteen other members of the TVM were arrested tonight after successful leads in questioning and names given after torture of the previously arrested vampires. Only one has been released without charge so far out of those, and tonight another fifteen will begin to be questioned. The net is closing in on them.” It's another step closer to finding out who is behind this, and ultimately bringing them all down like toppling dominoes.

"I suppose Dawn still isn't talking? I must confess I was expecting her to have cracked by now. She never seemed the strong type," Angel says, shifting up the bed slightly.

"This is where you, I and many others have underestimated her. She's blind at present, being given low doses of blood. Her eyeballs are near totally burned out from the silver being dripped into them for most of the time, yet still she will not talk. They'll move on to another tactic before long, but I doubt it'll do much good. She's certainly loyal to whoever is in charge, I'll give her that," Ursula sighs before standing. "I shall keep you both no longer, I just wanted to come and relay that to you."

After that, we're free to be alone again, only talking for a short time longer before kissing takes over. Now he's completely recharged and up to strength, it doesn't take a genius to work out what the next need he wants to satisfy is.

"You know, one of the things I missed most was just lying here kissing you, so if you don't mind that's all I'm going to do for a while.” Welcoming the big body of my vampire atop me, I lean to his mouth, my lips locking with his while his hands glide down my arms.

"Why should I mind that? You do just happen to be very good at it." As it turns out, kissing me solely on the mouth is not what he has in mind. We spend a long time tonight, getting reacquainted.

"You look very thoughtful, mi amor," Angel tells me afterward, kissing my cheek.

"I am. I'm just thinking how lucky I am, to have had you taken from me for what I thought was forever, and now here we are together again. When I thought you'd died, a massive part of me died with you. I've never been good at explaining these kinds of things, but that's how much I love you, how much of a massive part of my life you've become. Life without you in it, well it isn't worth living.”

"Ditto to everything you just said." Is all he replies with before smiling that beautiful smile of his, kissing me into total silence.

Angel's POV

"Are you ever going to stop looking at me like that?" I ask Edie when I catch her gazing at me as I dry off. I just took an extremely enjoyable shower with her, one that only partially involved getting clean.

She lets her eyes roam over me again before replying. "Nope, get used to it."

Moving to where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, I lean to her, kissing her pretty lips. “Good job I like it then, isn’t it?” Dressing at speed, I spend a little more time up here lavishing attention on my beautiful woman before we go downstairs, still half wrapped around each other.

"I've missed seeing that, a lovely, big smile on your face," Charles tells us warmly as he's crossing the hallway from his sitting room to the kitchen while pointing at Edie and winking. I'm glad he and Ursula adore her, too.

She has everything she's ever wanted, and also what she went without for so long right under this roof; a real family who love her. Even though only two of us are biologically related, we're a family in every sense of the word, as I'm sure you've noticed. We head through to his sitting room where Ursula and EZ are, and are joined by Sal and Eric ten minutes later. I'm as happy to see them as they are me, and I'm proud that I can see Eric really wants to cry but completely steels himself. He's getting there.

"Ursula, may I ask is it true one of the suspects taken in was Latoria Jackson?" Sal asks my creator not long after they've arrived.

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge names, Salvatore. But suffice to say, if she's currently missing from our midst then well, add one plus one and you get two." Ursula replies cleverly, answering his question for him without actually saying anything revealing.

She steadfastly refuses to say who has been taken in for questioning, not even to us, her family. We will find out though because when the trial of these vampires begins, their names will be made public. Elias is holding off on that until he can get to the head of the TVM, who we still do not know anything about other than the fact he is male.

All talk of this is put aside though after Sal's question, and instead we enjoy our evening rather than dissecting the more unpleasant side of life at present, with Sasha and Ahmed joining us all close to midnight, too.

"Oh, the predictability," I mutter quietly when Ahmed and Ursula head upstairs at just before 2am, making Charles hiss with laughter.

"Well, if the wife is off to get her kicks, I'm going to get mine too. Excuse me, everyone." He says before leaving, heading to see one of his humans. He has several, and they mostly follow a pattern. Older than eighteen but less than twenty-one years old, tall and blonde would be that pattern. He likes them young, but not too young.

At 3am every visiting guest bar Ahmed leaves, and Edie and I head out to the back yard and sit with the wolves, enjoying the night air. It feels good, having the breeze upon my face, enjoying the freedom I suppose I did take for granted. I'd love to just grab Edie's hand and take her for a walk some place right now, but I guess I can't. As soon as the vampires who wanted me dead find out I'm not, well I can imagine they'll come after me again.

I'm not scared, I don't fear them. The only thing I fear in all of this is Edie getting hurt somehow, and she was hurt badly enough thinking that I'd died. Sometimes I wish I could take her away from here, get her away from this madness, but I won't run away, and neither will she. I will take her away somewhere when all of this has blown over though, she deserves the rest.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks, rousing me from the thoughts I'd drifted off into.

"A time when all this will be over, and we can go back to normal, as well as taking you away on vacation somewhere when it is," I reply, holding my hand out for hers.

"Take me wherever you want to go in the world, I shan't argue with you! I need a vacation, I really do," she replies, moving to sit on my lap.

"Yes, you do. You work entirely too hard and also, you've had a fucking lot of stress to deal with recently, so I'm going to take you somewhere far away from here, so me and you can just enjoy what we've missed so far, enjoying the fact we're together. Two months and one week today, and it feels like two years while strangely enough, it still feels so recent, when I think back to when I was your detainee," I tell her, stroking her arms.

"I hate remembering that time, all the pain I put you through," she laments, moving to sit astride my thighs

"You were just doing your job, I accept that totally and yes, yes you certainly did put me through a lot of pain. The silver chisel being hammered into my spine was perhaps the worst, even though I wouldn't have told you that at the time. You're damn good at what you do, I was very wrong to think I'd suffer nothing considerable at your hands," I state, moving the neck of her sweater lower with and kissing her chest as my other hand slides around her back. "You're also nothing but wonderful now, so there we go." I'm sure that after a longer period of time, I'll find things about her that irritate me. Other than sometimes being a little too loud when she's drunk and also leaving trails of those makeup removing wipes and hair paraphernalia everywhere, there isn't anything else about her I find bothersome.

"Angel, do you think all of this is near the end point now?" she questions a time later, after we're shared content silence, watching the wolves bounce around on the grass a few feet away from where we're sitting.

I take a few moments to mull over my response, my fingers idly playing with her hair. "I think we've reached the eye of the storm, which means we're halfway to it blowing away, then the time to repair any more damage it leaves in its wake begins.”

"I don't want there to be any more damage. I know that sounds like such a childish thing to say, but we've all been through enough. This is, ah, this… it's just bullshit now! I mean really, why are they dwindling like this? They're scared, that's why. They're scared of Ursula, and taking you away meant she was weakened, which was probably when they thought they'd strike but of course, she'd have killed the lot of them if they'd dug her up since vampires replenish their strength at an alarming rate when they go to ground. Fucking pussy assed TVM, they're cowards!" she vents, her tone going from quite nervous to very angry at an alarming rate.

It just amuses me though, because I love how she isn't scared. If they were humans, she'd fight them all, one by one until she'd broken each one of them. I know she'd do that. I love seeing her strength. I find it so attractive, arousing even. Speaking of arousing, I always find it just that when she sits like this on my lap, because it always reminds me how much I enjoy having sex with her in this very position.

"Don't get angry," I placate, while my hands move her sweater at the neck to slide it down her shoulders, moving to then kiss them in turn.

"I think I'm right in guessing you'd prefer I was anything but right now. Don't worry, I want you just as much as you want me," she purrs before kissing me, her hands stroking my face as she does. It also seems she's very much with me on the fact that I’m content to enjoy her right here out in the garden, our hands undressing one another at speed while your kisses grow in urgency. Our outdoor encounter ends about an hour after it began, with me lying on my back upon the table, Edie breathless on top of me.

"I think we need to get in the shower," she says, her sweaty, mud trailed body resting against mine as she catches her breath. I agree, and after moving us and our clothes at speed that's the exact place we end up for the second time this evening. It doesn't mean we stop having sex for long though, with Edie getting washed clean and then bending over, instructing me to fuck her so hard she screams. I absolutely do.

"I think I'm satisfied now, and nicely exhausted," she hums softly when we're in bed a time later, an hour away from sunrise.

Looking over at her, I raise an eyebrow. "I'd wonder why if you weren't." We then lie here and talk until the sun comes up and the natural pull towards sleep begins to take a hold of me. I look down after Edie has been quiet for a while, and viewing the beautiful sight of her sleeping with her head on my chest is the last thing I see before I join her. When I awake, I find she's up already, and dress to go downstairs where I find her out in the back garden, and also discover the source of the noise I heard upon waking, too.

"Keep more tension in this arm, and just squeeze on the trigger," EZ advises while she holds one of his guns, a .45 in this instance, aiming it at the largest tree in the back yard where there's a target nailed to the trunk. "I thought it'd be useful for her to know how to shoot, so I'm teaching her how before I loan her a gun." He then adds to me when I arrive with them, watching Edie fire the gun and only manage to hit one of the very outer circles of the target.

"Damn it!" she fumes quietly.

"You'll get there, that was only your tenth shot ever and it's dark too. Practice more in the daylight and you'll get even better, just not with silver bullets though, or you'll fucking bankrupt me," he advises, with a small rumble of laughter.

"With how much you're worth, I doubt that's possible," I snort, watching him raise his eyebrows for a moment, and then look back at me with a knowing smile. I'm worth enough as it is (you have to remember vampires amass much more money than you humans, since you have to pay out for a lot more commodities we simply do not need) and EZ is probably worth double that, with what he charges for his services in eradication. He's an exceedingly wealthy vampire. Just then, Edie fires the gun again and this time after its hit the target nearer to the bull's eye, she looks much more pleased with herself.

"A definite improvement, Edie. Like I said, it's all down to practice, familiarising yourself with the gun, the way it feels in your hand, the power of the kick. If you'll excuse me for now." Heading back inside, he and Ursula cross paths as she comes to us, my face alight when she gives Edie’s next shot a round of applause, stroking her hair and kissing her head, whispering ‘that’s my girl.’

"I just thought I'd come and watch Edie’s target practice before I head to Angela's to give her this book back that she lent me, and then go back to the side of that beautiful human I still have tied to the bed upstairs," she informs us, of course referencing Ahmed. Knowing Ursula, she probably does have him tied up, too. She's into all of that in a big way.

"You're not exerting my friend up there too much are you, Ursula?" Edie asks, before firing another shot and then jumping for joy when she hits the bull's eye.

"I am yes, but he likes it," she grins wickedly before leaving us to it. Apparently, Constance and Coco are travelling back tonight as we speak, so I'm sure Ahmed's stay here will only be until then, when Ursula will have more important things on her mind than having sex with her favourite choice of human.

When they arrive two hours later, once again the elders all shoo us young out of the way, until I decide that I don't want to be pushed aside any longer, planting my feet. I'm standing my ground on this. This is something that has been on my mind since I was captured, and it's going nowhere but out of my mouth. What I have to say needs to be heard.

"No, sorry but I refuse to obey this request," I state plainly, raising my eyebrows with all the petulance I dare when Constance immediately looks angry.

"We're doing this for your own good, because if you..." she begins.

"If what, Constance? If I'm taken, then they can't question me over what I know? You stupid fucking woman, they took me already and all they planned was to kill me, so what the fuck does it matter? Seriously, all this 'to keep you safe' bullshit is getting old, because it isn't keeping us safe, so you need to include us all in this. We have to start working together, and I know at your age its almost fucking impossible for you to ever listen to anyone else, because you think you're imperatively right a thousand percent of the time, but you aren't. We want to be included in this," I cut in and vent with every bit of anger that's been building up within me since I was taken away.

"If you weren't Ursula's offspring, you'd be dead for talking to me like that, you jumped up little shit!" Constance snarls angrily after a few seconds' pause. She's probably never had anyone talk to her like that for over a couple of thousand years, but she needed to hear it. They all needed to hear it.

"Enough shouting at each other!" my creator yells loudly.

"We're fed up of being kept in the dark, Ursula. I think Angel is perfectly just in what he stated, especially since he's already had happen to him what you're all trying to prevent. These rules you're all following, they're not the same ones as the TVM are, because they play by no rules. I think it's time we did the same," EZ then voices, while Constance just looks more shocked by the moment. She doesn't like being disagreed with.

"The children are right; I must agree with them. Come in, come sit, and we will get to the bottom of this mess together as a family, as we should have from the start." Charles then interjects with, Ursula agreeing with him. We then all sit down, Edie too, and discuss everything that is going on until a half hour before the sun comes up.

No great plans are made this evening, other than the fact that Constance wants to speak to the men who were good enough not to go ahead with their plans to bury me at sea so she can try and gather more information on the mysterious man who paid them, and with that the discussion ends. Since Edie confesses she is very tired, she heads up to bed, and I promise to be right there next to her in a few minutes. I spend those minutes whistling out in the back garden for my wolves, who will return home as soon as they hear me. They don't wander too far. It's as I'm waiting that I'm joined by my creator, who looks like she's trying not to laugh.

"Go on, mom. You know you want to," I tell her, putting my arm around her shoulders. I turn to look at her, and then laugh myself when she lets out a massive snort through her nose before dissolving into hysterics.

"I can't believe what you said to Constance, the nerve you had to stand up to her in such a way! Oh, my beautiful boy, you're mine, without a shadow of a doubt you're definitely your mother's son!" she howls while embracing me. I'm glad I could make her laugh, and I'm glad I'm smiling now too, because this whole farce with the TVM has built up to a level where I just cannot idly sit back without doing anything, and I don't care who I have to challenge to make that point clear. I'm just glad my creator understands this as well as she does.

"There's an old bible passage that weighs on my mind at present, Ecclesiastes 3.8, to be precise. 'There is a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.' Now is the time for war, and my god, we'll give them one." she states, while I nod in agreement. This is war, without a shadow of a doubt, and we will win it. We will.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x ofc #vampire!angel reyes #vampire!ez reyes #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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darsynia · 1 year

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hello darsy! happy valentine's day!, first i wanted to remind you of what an amazing person you are i really mean it and that i love the posts you share and the polls, absolutely make my days, also want to ask you if you had a tag list? and in that case if i could be added, please? i would like to start reading your published writings here but i don't know where to first start and i would like to just pop up from nothing after getting the notification you updated, beforehand, thank you, i wish you the best of weeks and some good rest! send you my love<3

Oh goodness, thank you so much! I'm twirling :D And that pic is just the most preciously applicable to your kind words! I've been super shy about sending messages and stuff, this really makes my day 💚

I'd love to add you! I have a couple of different things going, but am happy to tag and then if you aren't in the mood for that thing or it's not your typical fare it's fine. However, if you'd like to specify, cause I have about 3 'kinds' of stories I'm currently posting, that's also good!

So, I have the Stephen series Animate Objects, and that starts with a 2-part story, Day Eight, where aid worker Amista Cairn runs into Stephen Strange and feels oddly compelled to show up at the sanctum to figure him out. That's followed by Diminished Seventh, a seven part sequel where Stephen and Amy work through his suspicion and her confusion as an ancient Babylonian relic imprinted on her the second she set foot in the sanctum. The next in the series will be Sixth Sense, which I haven't started yet, but it'll delve more deeply into what is up with the relic, and whether Stephen and Amy can get over their mutual mistrust, since they can't keep their hands off of each other...

The other series I'm posting is Trust Fall, which is a Tony/OC MCU re-write that will include more women in the Avengers, a team-oriented take earlier on in the chronology, and features Tony Stark and Emory Autumn. Emory is a PA to a pop star whose career needed a boost, so she went to Afghanistan to sing for the troops, putting Emory in the position to be kidnapped along with Tony, in the cave. Emory's smart and capable, but she's let her friend walk all over her for far too long. Tony and Emory both realize they need to change for the better as they fall for each other. A complication arises as Yinsen offers Emory a serum injection he'd spent his life savings on for his own family, who are now gone. Emory's new powers help them escape the cave-- but they put her in SHIELD's sights. ((EDIT: oh I forgot. There is so much sexy kissing in this story. SO MUCH. Gosh! Eventually smut in this one))

Along with Trust Fall I have a couple of other Tony Stark smut or ask stories (including a Tony/Steve I'm writing right now)

The third thing I've been writing is Steve/Reader fics, I have a oneshot set early on after Thanos's snap, and my series is called Just Right. Post-Ultron, Reader works as the 'armorer' for the Avengers, and she's loved Steve from afar for a year without being brave enough to say anything. Another version of Steve Rogers shows up, and this version looks at her like a precious gift-- but what's going on? What's happened to this Steve, and will it happen to their universe? Reader wants her Steve, but if this other version goes home, will she lose her chance to be with Steve Rogers? I also have a Sam Wilson/Reader argument kiss ask that's coming up, too!

I would be delighted to tag you in any or all of them, and again, no pressure-- I know I'm tagged in a few things that I look forward to getting to, but haven't yet!

Thanks again! I'm writing this at the DMV and I think the person beside me thinks it's a love letter, bahahaha. Honestly I love writing and getting to share it, so it kind of is? 💚

#kind of a 'current and upcoming' list of fics!#spinning twirls of gratitude #deepbatched #ask delightfulness #stephen strange x oc #tony stark x oc #steve rogers x reader

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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Hello I am, going to be ranting about things that don't matter to add my thoughts to a conversation I have no part in, but I read a lot so I have thoughts.

I'm fresh off MattPat's latest Game Theory video talking about how video games might be changing [and ruining] their stories because theorists post their thoughts online. This is an old conversation that has at this point affected every major industry, but got really big when Marvel Movies started getting touchy about spoilers. That is: the idea that because someone has put the clues together in your plot, you MUST change your plot, so you can be surprising. Shock factor in a story is more important than story integrity. And whenever this conversation comes up, almost every time passionate fans say a story suffers when you randomly change the plot. This seems like a no-brainer to me, and whenever I hear a studio has made a bunch of changes to their product in order to shock their audience, my conclusion always ends up being, "Wow, these people have never consumed a good thriller, have they?"

If you've followed my blog for any substantial amount of time, you'll know I love horror. I don't write it... Ever. But if you troll through my liveblogging tags, you'll notice all the books I've read and reviewed and commentated on, barring maybe one, was a horror book. One of my favorite things to do is to sink my teeth into horror and absolutely rip it apart. Did it scare me? Did it compel me? Was it good? Why? My favorite subgenre in the horror category is - well it's ghost stories. But actually, it's thrillers. I love thrillers. I love being given an average joe idiot family, throwing them in a spooky house, setting a killer loose on the premises, and then playing the "oh god, who's the bad guy" game. It's a very fun game that you can really play with thriller books, in my opinion? Because in thriller movies, generally the killer is plastered all over the trailer. But books get ambiguous names like "Ten" with a knife on the front. Love it.

Speaking of Ten, Ten is my favorite thriller. At the same time I was reading Ten, I was also reading another thriller, which I'm going to call "Karen", because I can't actually remember the book title. Karen in my least favorite thriller I've ever read, and a great case story on how not to write a thriller.

Karen started out doing everything right. We had a killer/kidnapper. We have a kidnapped kid. We have a mother who we know is going to be the next victim. We have a house that's being broken into and her children being stalked. The thrill is whether Karen figures out who is trying to kill her and take her kids, and if she can stop them before The Bad Shit happens. It was incredibly compelling. I was engaged with every little crumb and clue the author was feeding me. And I had a really good case for who the killer was and why. This was incredibly exciting for me, because this was the first time I was so immersed in a thriller that I was actively trying to figure out what would happen next -- and I was actually succeeding in figuring it out! All the plot points were adding up. Everything was falling satisfyingly in place! Soon I would figure out how Karen would stop the bad guy! And then, three chapters from the end, the author introduces us to a new character. This is a character we would have no idea ever existed, unless we were in this character's POV. She was completely unknown to Karen, and thus needed her own chapter to explain who she was and why she existed. It was then that the author explains, in an incredibly straightforward and self-aggrandizing monologue, that Karen is stupid for thinking she'd figured out who the bad guy was. And you, dear reader, are stupid by extension. The person stalking Karen's kids? The person breaking into Karen's house? The person harassing Karen and making her feel scared and paranoid and driving the plot towards it's conclusion? Was not the bad guy we had been introduced to in the opening scene and had been lead to believe was the bad guy this whole time. Well, that evil man does exist and is out doing evil somewhere. But he's not the one bothering Karen. This girl who we've never met up until this point is. This girl has no reason to hate Karen. She just does. This girl has no reason to hurt Karen's kids. She just wanted to scare them. And it is this character who we had no reason to believe even existed, who kills the main bad guy and vanishes into the night. Karen thinks she's solved her problems, but really she hasn't. This random character did all the hard work, and all the terrorizing. Karen will never know. But you, reader, do.

I was devastated when I read that chapter. Absolutely gutted. This author had given me a bunch of random puzzle pieces in the shape of a horse, and gave me a reference picture that had a horse on it, and grinned smugly when I didn't realize the puzzle was supposed to make a dog. It was such a bad read, and such a bad chapter, I didn't even finish the remaining two chapters of the book. Those chapters no longer mattered. They were to a story that no longer existed. That is a bad thriller. And it's a story format I have run into a lot with thriller and horror, and it kills me every time. Thriller, horror, and mystery novels even, are a very smart, commentative story format when used well. They don't have to be, but they can! And they thrive best when all the clues the author lays out for you actually add up. In fact, that is the sole reason people read mystery books. For thriller, it's an added bonus, and it adds to the horror. Nothing is scarier than figuring out who the bad guy is, and being unable to tell your main character you're incredibly attached to!! Watching someone walk straight to their demise because they don't know any better is a gripping experience! Or a very vindictive experience, if you happen to hate the character. But regardless, the emotional engagement on that kind of story is incredibly powerful. When a writer builds that connection, forces your emotional engagement, and then shames you for thinking you've figured it out? It punishes the reader for being engaged.

So I've told you about Karen. Now I'm going to cycle back to Ten. Ten was a very good, very successful thriller, and it was one that I had no reason to be invested in. It set me up with an annoying main cast, a submissive main character set to damsel in distress her way to the final chapter, and a love interest I could care less for. But it gave me one good hook. In the opening scene, the two best friend characters are talking.

Girl one says, "Look! There will be cute boys at this party! Why don't you go after him?"

Girl two rolls her eyes and answers snobbishly, "I can't date him. He's fake. Did you see his eyebrows? They're black, but his hair is blonde. He dyed his hair before he came here."

That boy is the killer. That is the first hint that something is wrong. And it was buried incredibly well. The author gave us a snobby character who of course would care about something stupid like that. The author reinforced that character as a bad informant, making her mean to the POV character, making our POV character make excuses for her. "normally she's nicer." Yeah yeah, we know how the submissive main character is supposed to act around her bossy best friend. But as it turns out, her best friend has been off her meds - so of course she's meaner than normal. Her medication helps her control her mood swings. I'm not doing this information justice, but suffice it to say the author gave the audience every clue to who the killer was. And gave us a competent [if easily dismissed] character to read the clues through. Anyone looking for that information and tracking where it was going would figure out who the killer was. I, personally, was blindsided. All the clues were put places where they were easily dismissed, with characters who were easy to hate or ignore. It wasn't until the antagonist revealed himself and his motives that everything clicked into place. And the story was incredibly satisfying, and even knowing how it ended, I reread it again and again. Suddenly all those tiny stupid clues meant the world. I could revel in the fact that I could see it coming. That was an excellent thriller.

Now, all that to say this: I'm not a game designer. I don't write movie or tv show scripts. I am a somewhat functional fic writer who sometimes talks too much on the internet. I love good stories. And I'm intelligent enough to break down for myself why I think stories work. Shock value is nice. Not being able to see a twist coming is cool. But only if that twist makes sense. If you blindside your audience with information they had no way of knowing, that isn't fun, and the thrill is ultimately pretty cheap. It will get you once, but never again. There is no build, nothing to savor or enjoy. And there is no additional tension. Shock is instant gratification. It is everything leading up to the shock that is memorable. In a well written, well integrated thriller, what is mystery on the first read is horror on the second, because you know what's coming. You see every invisible moment of peril you weren't previously privy to. And victories are sweeter when you can grasp the full scope of what the characters are up against. And yeah, it sucks to feel predictable. It sucks to feel like someone out there was smarter than you, because they figured out your clever secret before you wanted them to. But the story isn't about you, the author. The story is, well, it's about the story. And if it's a bad story? No one will read it.

#the barking writer #rant #im just saying people knew by chapter 10 Ammy was going to die #people still cried when she did #that was a big teaching moment for me #it really doesnt matter if your audience is smart enough to figure it out #it matters if what they figure out makes sense and stands on its own two feet #long post

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brywrites · 3 years

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Gifted

Spencer Reid x Reader. Summary: All his life Spencer Reid has been told he’s gifted. And all his life he’s wondered what the point was of those gifts that felt like curses. Until her.

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Though he holds so many memories in his mind, Spencer Reid isn’t quite sure who the first person to call him “gifted” was. It was probably his mother, he thinks. Certainly not his father, who thought he was strange. Perhaps a teacher, or maybe even his Aunt Ethel. All he’s certain of is that he’s lost track of the number of times people have praised the so-called gifts he possesses. His eidetic memory, his autodidactism, his absurdly high IQ. His mind, they say, is a gift. But it’s felt more like a curse for most of his life.

Those same things that helped him skip grades and earn the praise of adults brought him years of bullying taunts and miserable adolescent trauma. They isolated him from his peers. His companions were library books and stories and mathematic proofs – nothing with a beating heart. They plagued his nightmares, for his mother had been brilliant too and what had that done for her? And those gifts came with a tremendous burden of pressure, they demanded use in a powerful way. Reid was always terrified he’d fail to live up to that impossible potential, proving himself unworthy of such great and terrible gifts.

By the time he’s thirty-six, he wonders why he was ever given such gifts in the first place. Clearly he’s squandered them, spent them on chasing monsters he thought might be human. They turned out to be hydras – for each one they catch, two more take its place. He’s let his mind waste away on drugs, on grief. In shacks and in prison and in grudges he just can’t let go of. He’s saved lives, he knows, but his team do that same thing without the gifts he’s been cursed with. What’s the point of him? Of any of the talents or tricks he possesses?

And it’s that question on his mind as he walks into a Virginia library to interview a witness to the latest in a string of serial arsons. Her name tag says Y/N. She’s clearly nervous, a little shaken, but she manages a smile when a child runs up to interrupt and ask her how to find The Magic Tree House books. And when she turns back to look at Reid, that smile still lingers – her eyes so bright it catches him off guard. She takes him back to the area of the library that was burned to talk about the crime scene, and she off-handedly asks if he has a favorite.

And when he says, “Oh I could never choose just one favorite. I love books too much for that,” that smile returns, unexpectedly bright.

“A man after my own heart,” she says. “Tell me a few then.”

So he rattles off a handful, hoping at least one of them will keep that light in her eyes. They do. “Bradbury is one of my favorites, too. I just love Dandelion Wine. Sorry, I probably should focus on the fire. I try to distract myself when I feel stressed, and well, remembering what happened that night doesn’t exactly help with my anxiety.”

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Or excited. Really, I think I just talk a lot.” Another smile, one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Over the course of the investigation, the BAU has to ask her to come to the station twice. By chance, Reid finds himself interviewing her both times, and both times he finds himself rambling a little more than he means to – because he finds himself inexplicably a little nervous and a little excited in her presence. It’s that smile, the one that lingers long in his mind after she leaves each time.

There’s something about her, about the light she seems to carry, that draws him in. That compels him to say yes when he shows up at the library to inform her they’ve caught the unsub and she asks, “Could I buy you a cup of coffee to show my appreciation? If that’s not too much, of course.”

“I think that would be perfect,” he says. And as they sit at the café across the street with lattes in oversized mugs, he’s never been so grateful for his vast knowledge of literature. Each title is a start into a new conversation with her, and they swap stories about stories – the ones they have lived and the ones they have loved. When she disappointedly announces her break is over, she adds, “But maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“Yes,” he says. “Please.”

“How should I get in touch with you if you’re not showing up at the library to interrogate me, Dr. Reid?” she teases.

He hastily withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and offers it to her. She begins to type in her number. “You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he tells her.

She grins at him and something in his chest shifts at the sight. “I’ll definitely call you soon, Spencer.” He’s never liked the sound of his own name more. And he thanks that eidetic memory of his for allowing him to replay it again and again in his mind until he can see her next.

They get coffee again the first chance he gets. And then again. When she asks how he has time to read so much and he tells her about how his mind works – about his memory and speed-reading and quantified intelligence, all the things that have been called gifts – she thinks for a moment before saying, “That must be lonely.”

The relief he feels at her understanding is immense. “It is sometimes,” he admits. “But it’s felt less so lately.” They go to a park together. Then out to dinner. By the time he realizes he’s falling, he’s forgotten what it feels like to be on solid ground. Fortunately, he isn’t the only one at the mercy of gravity. She feels it too. And when she laughs at his joke as he walks her home from dinner, he just can’t help himself. He leans in and cups her cheek to pull her to him, pressing his lips to her still-smiling lips. The taste of wine still on her tongue. And though he doesn’t drink anymore, the sensation of her is enough to make him feel utterly intoxicated.

Slowly, his life fills up with her. His sabbatical arrives with the perfect timing to allow him evenings and weekends with her. He picks her up after work. She meets him for breakfast. He takes her to the planetarium. She falls asleep on his couch. He tells her it won’t always be this way and she assures him that’s okay. But it gives him the chance to build the foundation their relationship needs. It’s in that time that he begins to catalogue her smiles in his memory. The dazzling ones she sends his way when she spots him at a coffee shop. The soft, shaky ones she wears after a long kiss. The coy ones that twist the corner of her mouth when she’s teasing him. The nervous one that slowly grows when she meets his team for the first time – not as a witness, but as his girlfriend. A title she declares like a badge of honor. He holds each smile in his mind, picture perfect thanks to that eidetic memory. When a case has been particularly tough or he’s away for longer than he’d like, he flips through them in his mind, trying to remember the cause of each one, trying to hold on to that light until he can hold her in his arms again.

He surprises her with flowers on her birthday. “You remembered?” she gasps, her eyes wide. “And these – these are my favorite. How did you know?”

“I could never forget,” he laughs, but she stares down at the bouquet and clutches them to her chest.

“I don’t make a big deal about my birthday, so people don’t usually remember,” she says quietly. “And nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before. Thank you, Spencer.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

He grins from ear to ear. Forget the sound of his name, those three words are the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you, too.” It’s a first for both of them. And one week later comes another first – witnessing her panic attacks for the first time. She’s shaking too hard to tell him what she needs, so he tries to do what would help him. He sits down next to her on his living room rug and wraps her in his arms. He rests his head on her shoulder and murmurs the words to her favorite poem. She seems to breathe a little easier and so he recites another one she loves, and another until her breathing finally steadies and she unclenches her fists to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in his sweater.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel like such a curse to remember everything he reads when it means he can give her the words she loves when she needs them most.

The first time they sleep together is only the second time he’s been intimate with someone and he feels more awkward than he wishes he was. But he commits himself to studying, to remembering what she likes and what she doesn’t, and the next time he proves to be the quickest of learners when he succeeds at making her come within a matter of minutes. He discovers a new smile of hers, one of dreamy bliss and kiss-swollen lips. He loves it. He loves her, adores every single part of her she’s shared with him and every piece yet to be found. And to his continued surprise and delight, she loves him just as much.

He tries every day to be worthy of that love. He makes time for her. He goes to meet her friends and he shakes their hands even though he hates touching people, even though she insists, “You don’t have to. They won’t mind.” He does it because she’s the only person in the world whose touch he actually craves.

When she swoons over a dress Penelope has shown her on Instagram, he makes a note of it. She’s utterly enamored by it by her smile falls upon checking the price tag. It’s far out of her budget. So the next week when he’s out on a case in Atlantic City, he swings by one of the few casinos that doesn’t have his picture framed on the wall of their security office. He wins more than the cost of the dress in an hour and leaves before anyone can get suspicious. The dress arrives at his apartment the same day he gets home, and he invites her over to surprise her with it. When she opens the box, her eyes go wide.

“Spencer, this is… this can’t be. It’s… do you know how expensive this is?” Y/N asks.

Bashfully, he replies, “Now might be a good time to mention I’m banned from casinos in almost every state for my card counting abilities.” It’s well worth the little effort he expended to see the way her face lights up at the sight of it. And though he’s never been a gambling man, when he sees her wearing it for the first time he considers trying his luck a little more often.

At times he worries he’s doing too much, but how could it ever be when the way she loves him has been so much more than enough? For the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he’s enough. When she says, “I love you,” he believes it. When she says, “I’ll be back,” he trusts her. He’s given another person more of his heart than he ever has before, and for once he’s not afraid of it breaking. She doesn’t mind the strange hours he works or heaviness he sometimes carries with him. When he wakes up from a nightmare, she holds him close and keeps him grounded. He sends postcards from each city he visits and she makes his favorite food when he comes home and home is suddenly a place they share. She moves into his apartment and it feels like it was never complete without her there.

Not long after, there is a case in Boston. Their terrifyingly intelligent unsub taunts Reid as he leaves the interrogation room. “Judge me all you want, Dr. Reid. But I’ve used my mind to change the world. You’ve done nothing with yours.” The words haunt him on the flight home. He sits on the back of the plane lost in thought. What has he done? Sure he’s saved lives, but could he have done more? Could someone else have used those gifts he’s been burdened with in a way that was better? Why does he have any of these talents? Why has he acquired any of these skills?

His phone chimes. A text from her. Brought home a new book from the library I think you’ll love! Can’t wait to see you, dearest. And it hits him.

It’s her. All along it’s been her.

The answer echoes in his head as he races home to her. Everything in his life has led him to her, has let him be the person she needs. He can memorize all her favorite songs and poems to recite for her when her anxiety gets the best of her. He can remember every date that matters to her and everything she adores. He can read her favorite books overnight to talk about them with her in the morning. He can profile from her body language and her microexpressions when she’s having a bad day and needs him to be there for her, even when she’s too afraid to ask for what she needs. When she asks absurd questions out of the blue, he can give her actual answers with the useless encyclopedia of knowledge he’s obtained over the years. When she needs a distraction his rambling finally proves useful. It’s all for her.

She’s the reason his mind doesn’t feel like a curse anymore. How could he ever think of it with disdain when it’s the reason he can picture every smile she’s ever let him see? When he can catalogue every wonderful word from her lips, every inch of her skin, every action that drives her wild.

Reid can’t seem to open the door to their apartment fast enough. When he finally steps inside, she’s sitting on the couch. She turns away from the book in her lap to smile at him. “Welcome back,” she says. Then, tilting her head, “Is everything okay?”

An unshakeable grin spreads across his face and he knows he must look like a madman right now as he crosses the living to sit beside her. “Everything’s perfect. I just… I had this epiphany. All the things I hate about myself, you love. And all the things I can do let me love you better. It just feels like everything – everything has led me to you. Even the bad things, I mean, being in prison forced me to take sabbaticals and if I hadn’t we wouldn’t have had that time together early on and maybe we wouldn’t have worked and I don’t believe in fate,” he says, taking a breath. “But I can’t help but feel like for the first time, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. With you. Like that’s where I was meant to be all along. And I… I just thought you should know.”

His long-winded rambling is rewarded with one of his favorite smiles from her – one that makes her eyes soft and puts sunsets to shame. The kind she wears when she is incandescently happy. Her fingers lace through his and they are a perfect fit in his big hands. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” she says, leaning in to kiss him.

All his life, Spencer Reid has been told he is gifted. But this time, he thinks it might actually be true. He holds the greatest gift the universe has ever granted him in his arms and knows that no part of him is a curse if he is loved by her.

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