#Shoot. How did I get away with creating art that was this obviously deeply deeply wounded and nobody batted an eye??

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

..

[weirdmarioenemies]

SURPRISE! Did you think the day would come when we would cover Love Live on this blog? I didn't!

Yohane the Parhelion: Blaze in the Deepblue is the Metroidvania-style game based on the fantasy spin-off of Love Live Sunshine, but you probably don't care about that! Statistically speaking, our target audience is Bogleech readers who are deeply revolted by anime girls!

So why bring up? Why bring it up? The answer is 🐠 FUNNY FISH! It's Funny Fish Friday!

Since this game is set in an underwater temple, the enemies this game are all based on sea creatures, and that's cool! Again, statistically speaking, you probably think sea creatures are cool. I really liked seeing the variety of enemies when playing through this game, so I thought it'd be fun if I could share them with an audience of people who otherwise wouldn't care! None of the enemies really have names, as far as I'm aware of. But I'll do my Rubesty...?

Our first guy we encounter in the game is the sort of guy who emerges from the ground like the Zombies from Castlevania, and wow! A good first impression I think. It is sort of a squid mantle, if the mantle was also a cloak for a spooky sort of wizard! The way it doesn't really have a 'face' in the hood and the eye is below really makes it seem like a weird mimic creature. Cool!

They also get a tough lategame variant which looks like a mix between a flapjack and a vampire squid. You don't often see flapjacks be designed as scary!

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Next is Barnacles! A whole clump of them, like a cake. They shoot Energy Balls at you. Is this what Barnacles can do if they combine their powers...? The top actually opens up, and it looks a lot like a sea urchin's mouth! So maybe it is some sort of naked urchin creature covered in barnacles? Game Theory!

There are also barnacles with Ice Powers. Like real life!

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Let's give it up for Garden Eel!!!!

What a fine Garden Eel it is! Complete with the sort of grumpy face, and with the addition of two little arms that make it look like it's praying or maybe a bit shy. But it is mean! It also spits energy balls at you, then hides in the hole so you can't hit it. How very sneaky!

SO sneaky, in fact, that these eels have mastered the art of ninjutsu! The ninja eel shows up for a split second in one single room, before smoke bombing away. You'd have to use a time freeze power to get him, but I never got around to doing that. I don't have any beef with a ninja eel! I respect him and his training!

Did someone say CTENOPHORE? I hope you did, or my hearing has really gotten worse. This thing is a grade A ctenophore, only with a ring of Scary Teeth! A little scary to think of a ctenophore who could Bite you, but nonetheless this deserves a :ctenopog:!

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Let's not forget Fish Vortex! Fish Vortex was the first guy to make me go 'wow, this game's enemies really are awesome!' So of course I had to put him at the top of the post! He is my selling point! I am selling all these enemies to you. For 4.99 a pop!

Anyway. This design is just so funny and cool at the same time. A swirling school of fish that leads into an endless dark abyss, and in the middle, a big eyeball. Also covered in fish. It shoots fish at you! Yay!

There is also a pink variant - it shoots fish that give you the Solitude status effect, which basically just makes Yohane too depressed to summon her friends. Meaning? They are Depression Fish! Maybe she just becomes so jealous of the unity and teamwork of these sardines. She's me like just for real! ^_^

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isopot :)

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This slug is an umbrella. That is ridiculous! Ridiculously EPIC! It does the opposite of shield you from rain, which is create rain, that kills you. But I would still want one as an umbrella.

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When I first saw this thing, I thought it was some strange round Echimoderm I had never heard of. But upon further inspection (I actually asked Mod Chikako shh), it is obviously like a Brittle Star, with each arm folded round to form a wheel! How creative and fun! It even has a bunch of eyes like a starfish!

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Last but not least- sushi! There are sushi guys and they are cute. They don't really do much and are typically found in their own rooms, so I'm not sure what the point of them is. But finding a funny walking sushi should be a reward in of itself, I guess! Look at their funny rice feet! Or the one with the roe eyes!

I happened to use fire magic on one of them and this happened. Oopsies...

Now I am sure you are saying, thank you for showing me all these funny enemies. But are there any cool bosses? Of course there are, me! What's a Metroidvania without cool bosses? So I shall show you my favorites without delay!

First is this freak (affectionate)! It is a sort of amalgamation of lots of different animals and I think it just looks plain cool! Two squid mantles combined into one, a bit of a sea angel shape, bug legs and of course a great big eyeball!

If it is not freaky enough for you, let it be known that the bug legs turn into big green skeleton hands, and it also keeps getting pinker, and it grows new eyes and then extra horns grow out of those eyes. If THAT is not freaky enough for you then I am sorry but I cannot do anything about that.

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Now, how about a sampling of this Freaken Thang? It honestly doesn't seem that sea-creature themed, but it uses seashells so I guess it counts!

What is really neat is that this boss has two different forms, upside down and rightside up! When it is upside down it looks a bit like a Magolor type creature. And of course, I really like the flame thing in the middle as well, that really feels like a Kirby enemy or something! Like a wisp made of plasma!

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Fans of Anomalocaris won't be disappointed by this one! It's a big Anomalocaris tank and boy is it cool! There's something for everyone here, whether you're an Anomalocaris purist or you've always wanted to see it turn into a sort of futuristic beast with a screen mouth that shoots lasers! It really is the future, zura...

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After covering all these wacky creatures, I'm going to have to end it off with the final boss! What could the big bad, the ultimate boss of all these sea monsters even be, I wonder? Well, it's...

...a coelecanth. Just a big coelacanth! It is big and blue! And really, does it need to be anything else? It is such an honor to make the biggest ultimate boss a coelacanth. It is even pretty cute!! Think he's smiling! 😊

Uh oh! Is it still cute? I guess so. My first thought seeing this was of course the world-renowned tongue eating isopod, so I really hope it was an intentional reference! It probably just wants to shake hands. Still, a pretty simplistic design for our final boss, right?

Buu buu! Its true form actually looks like this! Actually, it's kind of doing too much. Like let's tone it down a little?

So!! We beat the mega ultra coelacanth, and now we can find out what his motivation is! And it is... that he is the memories of the people of the past or something. And they all didn't want to be forgotten, so they turned into fish monsters! But we forgive them!

It doesn't really matter. All the girlies gather around and sing him a song. Look how happy he is! I forgot I was talking about a Love Live game until now, actually. All's well that ends well, the end, et cetera! Hit it, Yohane! [imagine this is like the end of a kids movie where all the Love Live girls are having a dance party and there is a shot of the big coelacanth in jail and he's tapping his mouth fingers along to the beat]

[gonnagowherethedreamersgo]

I posted 438 times in 2022

62 posts created (14%)

376 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dailywilliams

@searchingforjunecarter

@tattoos-n-puffers

@still-into-paramore

@melindasordinos

I tagged 413 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#tegan and sara - 70 posts

#paramore - 40 posts

#hayley williams - 35 posts

#elliot page - 32 posts

#kristen stewart - 31 posts

#the umbrella academy - 29 posts

#taylor swift - 22 posts

#a league of their own - 22 posts

#the umbrella academy spoilers - 21 posts

#tegan quin - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#confirmed actually her baby from the liked comments on twitter and the podcast released today where she mentions installing a car seat cause

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So, I took this guy’s information and maybe about a year later I emailed him and told him I was moving to Montreal. It was February the week I moved there and it was fucking freezing, the kind of cold where you know that if you stay out too long you’ll actually fucking die. Anyway, we began to hang out and go out for dinner, but I started to get the sense that maybe those dinners were like dates or something. I don’t know that to be true, and he seemed really cool and sweet, but after nine days or so I knew I had to just be straight up with him. I asked him if he knew any gay people and he said, ‘Actually I’m in art school with a girl and I think you’d really like her,’ and he took me over to introduce me to her. Her place was in a brownstone, kind of like in New York, and we climbed all the stairs up to the top apartment, and when we got inside there was what sounded to me like a horrible racket. The kind of music where you’re like, ‘What in the fuck is this?’. Then this girl comes around the corner and I was immediately kind of intimidated, because she was clearly gay and super cute. She took us into the living room and gave us a beer and then went to get ready because we were going to go to some kind of lesbian Meow Mix kind of event. I’ll never forget Antoine and I just looking at each other and I was like, ‘This song, right? Crazy!’ and it was “Fuck The Pain Away” by Peaches. Anyway, the end of that story is that I ended up dating that girl and she became our band’s art director, and has been our art director for almost 20 years. She absolutely fucking loved Peaches. I was so not ready for that electroclash sound at the time, but because I desperately wanted to be cool and I thought she was the coolest person in the world, I started to love everything that she loved. And so I became obsessed with Peaches too.

Sara Quin talking about meeting Emy for the first time

28 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

I felt so supported by everyone. We were shooting right after I disclosed that I’m trans, in total isolation. That was definitely an overwhelming period, but I feel so lucky that I was going to work and getting to be with so many supportive people. I’m so lucky to work with this cast. And in any moment that I did express fear and anxiety, I felt listened to and cared for. And obviously, that should be the case all the time, but we know how things are. So, it’s special. And that Steve, you would make the choice to do this and commit to doing it the right way. I feel like that’s the kind of showrunner you are and have been doing that the entire time we’ve been making the show, including last season with Sissy. So it was just building on already that you’re so wonderful because you have your distinct singular vision mixed with being so collaborative and I’m really grateful for that, always.

Elliot Page

30 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

#3

See the full post

31 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

#2

See the full post

58 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“I am deeply gay - sorry concerned, deeply concerned. It just feels like this is gonna make kids gay and trans - sorry depressed and suicidal, and I just think these laws are lesbians - sorry unconscionable!”

88 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ladyonfire28]

Adèle Haenel: "And the fight against racism, is that a black thing?" (March 1, 2016)

Her raw talent and her unique personality are shaking up French cinema. With two Césars in her pocket, the actress from Les Combattants became an icon of auteur cinema in Les Ogres and soon with the Dardenne brothers. Interview with a thoughtful and shady feminist.

The first vision we have of Adèle Haenel when we enter the hotel room, where she has just been photographed, is that of a tall girl in denim and worn-out suede boots looking for cotton to remove her make-up. She says that it's too much, that it's not her, that we have to take it all away - this sticky femininity - and right away.

She announces her color: strong, fierce, temperamental, a little prickly, when, during the interview, she frowns and throws your questions back to you - always with great relevance. She is beautiful and abrupt, her adolescent brusqueness (even though she is 27 years old), gives the impression of robustness: a sportswoman with the shoulders of a swimmer but the face of a femme fatale from the inter-war period, green eyes and a pulpy mouth. This is an unprecedented combination in French cinema, which tends to be dominated by young first-time coquettes looking for contracts with luxury brands. We have never seen Adèle H. at the front row of fashion shows, her appearances on the red carpet - the playground of her fellow female cast members - did not stick in our memories, and that's good.

We've been keeping an eye on her since Water Lilies (2007), by Céline Sciamma, to whom she declared her love at a César Award ceremony. She won two of them, hands down: for Suzanne, and then, last year, for Les Combattants, an emblematic film that created a new image of a virile heroine in French cinema. Adèle Haenel, an icon of auteur cinema, was thrown at the heart of the system: she is the most coveted actress of the moment and has just finished in Liège The Unknown Girl, by the Dardenne brothers, who will inevitably be screened again at the next Cannes Film Festival.

You have to hear her talk about cinema, with her eyes fixed and uninterrupted flow, to understand how incandescent this girl is. In Les Ogres, a choral film by Léa Fehner that talks about the daily life of an itinerant theater that performs Chekhov, she plays Mona, actress and pregnant. The diary of this tribe that travels from city to city, a tent on their back, also draws a universal portrait of actors, truculent monsters full of love and violence.

Madame Figaro - Since the success of Les Combattants, you intrigue people...

Adèle Haenel. - I can see that the demand is stronger, but I'm not chasing after advertising and I don't intend to invade the public space. I think we have to remain discreet. Notoriety hasn't changed anything in my life and it certainly won't change my desire to make films following the same line.

What is that line ?

I make a film to carry a message. I can feel when a director has something to say. I feel something, a desire, a vibration. There is a thread, an intuition, a truth that imposes itself on me. I know what I have to do, I can feel it. It is both mystical and very rational. What is interesting is to come out of a navel-gazing, to rise up, to talk about people, to talk about the world. I like the idea that everything fits together collectively: feelings, economics, politics. A film is a common story, and I want to be part of that dialogue. A film must be in direct resonance with its time: cinema is today. I do things for now, and it's not up to me, to us, to decide whether a film is going to stay, whether it's made for eternity. I feel extremely responsible.

You feel very inhabited when you talk about cinema...

I have many other reasons to live, but, yes, I am deeply interested in the representation of things. How does cinema fit into society? Who is it for? Cinema is obviously a political act. For example, even the latest Star Wars is political. I was really relieved to see so many women and different skin colors: it means that everyone can be a hero and that feels good.

It is said that in the movies women are taking over...

It's an evergreen content. They make a big deal out of it, but if you look at the numbers, it's not so true: women are still in the minority. I can't be satisfied with that.

Do you feel the prevailing machismo that is associated with cinema?

I'm not going to waste my time and energy educating these people.

Is it easier to succeed in this job when you are a man?

Your question is a strange one. Either we point out superficial phenomena - the decision-makers are men, they have the money and therefore the power - or we debate a broader question: in what world are we evolving? And there, it's always the same thing.  The world is cut in two: on the one hand, there is the man, the virile, all linked to superior qualities, and on the other hand, the lower part, the woman, the secret, the moods. Of course, all our representation is linked to this division. I often ask myself the following question: in a fair world, without discrimination, what is art? Art today is in dialogue with its time, so it does not abolish anything but is involved in the fight.

As we can't classify you, you have been labeled as virile...

I'd like someone to explain to me why people should always be defined. To be a woman, you would have to be a feminine woman, right? For me, it's redundant. I don't maintain any posture, I am myself. But the way people look at me doesn't bother me: make up your mind, there's no problem.

However, you embody a renewal at the antipodes of actresses on their first red carpets...

I don't know which ones you are talking about, but I will never be against other propositions from women. After all, they also are undoubtedly dealing with their inner truth. But then again, I don't want to comment on something that escapes me completely: the gaze of others. I realize that everything is complicated for actresses who are so solicited that they end up participating, willingly or unwillingly, in a kind of general cacophony.

Are you one of those ogresses that Léa Fehner describes in her film?

I've just eaten about twenty-five croissants, isn't that a clue? In Léa's film, there is an energy close to the one in Les Combattants: action as a solution to an era in crisis. Here, it's laughter and gluttony facing a personal anxiety and an era that values suffering. I think we need to wake people up, to make them understand that fatality is a terrible and disarming discourse. We are told that the planet is warming up, that people are being massacred, that entire populations are on the move. I am not saying that we are not powerless against this, but feeling concerned and responsible is already a first step towards action.

Are actors monsters?

I don't know and I don't care. I'm not here to tell people: I'm like this, I'm like that, I'm better than you. I don't have to deal with that. Why me? I don't know.

Yes, why you and not someone else? Actor, it's an elective profession...

What is an actor? Their hypersensitivity should not be overestimated. The key is courage. That's the most difficult thing, courage and sincerity: not hiding, committing yourself with what you have, with your face and your body, with everything, with no escape. We often say: "To be an actor is to be someone else" but above all, you have to accept being yourself. It's not the most well-balanced job on earth, but a healthy actor would be weird, wouldn't it?

Precisely, you are sometimes compared to... Depardieu.

There are worse critics. What I like about him is his poetic sensitivity, which is not fake at all. You can sense his love of texts. And then, come on, what an incredible freedom of acting!

Can you play everything?

I don't know. What I do know is that the feeling of comfort is dangerous. It would turn us into a small factory. As soon as I start a film, I don't sleep anymore. The first scenes are hell.

Is shooting naked a problem?

It annoys me. In all films, there's this double injunction from society or the audience: we actresses are asked to get naked but to feel guilty about it! But no guys, I'm not going to feel guilty so you can be fully satisfied that I hold this assigned place of the whore and the well-bred girl! The commitment I make when I make a movie is much bigger than that.

Your feminist side...

I don't have a feminist side, I'm a feminist simply because I want to exist.

Today, not all women are feminists…

So feminism is a girl thing, then? And the fight against racism is a black thing? It's not a power struggle or lobbying, it's not Pepsi against Coke. No, it's a fundamental question about humanity.

[hotchocolatefanfics]

Reboot PoTA Couple Theme Songs and their Meanings

Boy did this take me a while to finish! This is something I’ve been working on almost all of 2019 and I’ve finally finished it (2019 was not nice to me-my classes were, but everything else was a blur of getting sick and going from no anxiety to anxiety attacks happening daily. It was just a mess!)

Like the title says, it’s a theme song list for our favorite Planet of The Apes shippings and couples (I only did a few to save time but if this gets popular enough, I could do another involving any shippings and couples that aren’t present here (such as Will X Caroline or Malcolm x Ellie)).

Each couple have their own five theme songs (because one isn’t enough to tell their full story) and each song represents something unique about the couple dynamic or how the shipping can be interpreted and will include a description underneath (some may be longer than others (the more I know on that shipping/more I have to say, the more I write about them)-I apologize in advance for that!). If there’s any information that is missing or details that I overlooked (or even if you disagree with the description) please feel free to share! 

Please note that you are not obligated to listen to these songs and you are completely and totally free to add a song to these couple lists. Part of the reason why I made this was in hopes that maybe it would spark a conversation amongst us PoTA fans about our favorite PoTA shippings/couple and explore other shippings. 

Also, I didn’t include OC relations here but feel free to add them in your reblogs(you may also re-use songs that are already on these lists if you feel they could describe your OC x Canon shipping)! All love stories are welcomed on this post! (the only rule is there can’t be any underage or huge age difference couples).

My information sources are:

All three Reboot movies, Firestorm, Revelations, The Planet of The Apes Fandom Wikia and also reading a couple of stuff/peaking around on AO3, FanFiction.net, DeviantArt, and Wattpad.

With that said, enjoy the theme songs!

Caesar x Cornelia 

Stand by you - Rachel Platten

Better Together - Jack Johnson 

Say Something (I’m giving up on you) - A Great Big World

Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down 

The Call - Regina Spektor

Description: 

As this is a couples list, it only makes sense to start it with the king and queen themselves!

I think it’s more than safe to say that these two loved each other very much. 

We saw Caesar and Cornelia’s relationship grow from Rise, Firestorm, Dawn, Revelations, to War and during that time, we’ve seen them grow closer (I actually think that, as their relationship progressed, Cornelia made Caesar a better leader-as she pointed things out to Caesar that he either ignored/didn’t realize/know in Firestorm). 

When I personally think about this couple, I think about Caesar: The life he grew up with, the family he left behind when he chose to stay in the forest with the apes, the hardships he had to face in the earlier days/years of freedom and I think about all the stress and the anxiety that he had to have felt during those times. He had to have felt that he had to show strength in the presence of his followers-that would have meant not thinking/talking about Will, Charles or Caroline or letting it be known if he missed them at all. 

Then I think about Cornelia. As his wife, she had to have known everything about Caesar. From his childhood to anything and everything he feared and worried about as king and leader. If there was anyone in the whole colony that Caesar could have shown that side to him, that uncertain, missing his family side to him, it would have been Cornelia, and I would imagine that she understood that he missed his human home. That she listened to his worries and comforted him-possibly reassured him if he needed it.

I didn’t know if it’s talked about very much but, as king and queen they’re very similar in personality: Both being compassionate and kind, but also fiercely protective of both the colony and of their friends and as parents, both are (also) protective and loving towards Blue Eyes and Cornelius (examples being Caesar protecting Blue Eyes from the bear and later protecting both sons from Carver in Dawn and Cornelia keeping Cornelius safe in Revelations). 

This couple is featured in nearly every fanfic out there and every Planet of The Apes role-play that Tumblr has but I feel like we don’t talk about it enough. In War, Caesar was more than devastated by Cornelia’s death (and by the death of Blue Eyes) as he became vengeful, murderous and (pretty much) ready to kill because of it (remember that man with the wood at the oyster farm where they found Nova?). 

If you really want to go there, it says a lot about his and Cornelia’s relationship during the war. That (maybe) the war took such a tool on Caesar (mentally and emotionally) that she became his strength. That (maybe) Caesar was already on the verge of losing it well before the attack on that hill (like having a breakdown or panic attack)-and I wouldn’t be surprised, as he was betrayed by Koba, then by Red and other followers of Koba, and his apes were being attacked, threatened and/or killed by the soldiers.

Maybe Cornelia kept him grounded, reminded him of who he was and what was important and when the Colonel killed her, it broke something in Caesar and when he lost her, he lost part of himself and may have forgotten who he was (only remembering when he realized he couldn’t kill the Colonel). 

Blue Eyes x Lake 

Kiss The Girl - Ashley Tisdale 

Love Story - Taylor Swift 

Colors - Halsey 

It’s all coming back to me now - Meet loaf

When you’re Gone - Avril Lavigne

Description: 

Blue Eyes and Lake clearly loved each other in War. We know they grew up together and played with each other as children though their (romantic) feelings for each other likely came later (around the time of Dawn/Revelations). 

We didn’t get to see much of their relationship (due to Blue Eyes dying and/or being sent away in Revelations) but, considering that Blue Eyes was protective of his friends and family (and openly affectionate towards them in War), I think it can be assumed that he would have been a loving husband to Lake and would have protected her if she were in danger. 

Lake appeared to love children, so it is reasonable to imagine they would have had children together and she would have, more than likely, been a wonderful mother to them. Lake was also brave (as seen when she defended Caesar in War), which makes it likely she could have assisted Blue Eyes as his queen (if he had lived to become king). 

And now, the Fan-Made couples!!! 

Caesar x Koba (aka: ‘Caba’)

Little Do You Know - Alex & Sierra

Hold On - Chord Overstreet

A Moment Like This - Kelly Clarkson 

Breathless - Shayne Ward

Teddy Bear - Melanie Martinez

Description: 

Yes, I absolutely had to start with this one as it’s, if I’m not mistaken, the most common shipping in the fandom (and it’s also my favorite too!).

Caesar and Koba were obviously very close in Dawn (as best friends and honorary brothers) as Koba saved Caesar from that bear in the beginning and Caesar later gifted the pelt to him. This relationship was created when Caesar rescued Koba and other apes from Gen-Sys and continued in Firestorm.

I can’t remember if I got this far into Caesar’s Story, but I wanna say there was a part in the book where it talked about Koba having feelings for/falling in love with Caesar(?)(Please correct me if I’m wrong).

It all came crashing down when the humans showed up and Koba’s hatred of them was reborn and it became clear to him that Caesar still ‘loved’ humans (when Koba said “Caesar loves humans more than apes” he may have actually believed that-it is also possible he may have thought Caesar loved humans more than him). 

It eventually leads to Koba shooting him (which means he, essentially, abandoned his love for Caesar in favor of his hate for humans) and then declaring war on the humans-and later, resulted in Caesar having to kill him. Koba’s betrayal deeply hurt Caesar and so did killing him (let’s not forget that Koba’s ghost haunted him in War). 

What I’ve noticed with this shipping is it’s all about the vulnerable and damaged side of Koba’s personality and about Caesar’s protective and compassionate heart. 

Fanfics of this shipping sometimes follows the story of Dawn (with Pope as the bad guy or with Koba’s betrayal being deeper than just about revenge on the humans) and other times it’s completely different (nodding at the ‘Caesar and The Bonobo’ Beauty and The Beast AU on FanFiction and all other Caba one-shots(all deserve a read!)) but in all fanfics and fan arts of this shipping, there’s always a sense of heartache for the couple (either due to how Koba suffered before Rise or knowing how their relationship ended in Dawn).

Everything about this shipping is tragic and (when well-written out) heartbreaking but at the same time, it can be adorable and beautiful (I’m also tempted to call it irresistible for many fans-seriously, look on AO3, DeviantArt Wattpad, FanFiction.net-literally all of these sites has three or more fanfics/one-shots of this shipping (though I would advise you all to be careful as some of them may be, let’s say, ‘Rated R’)!).

I have not found any role-plays of this shipping on Tumblr (yet!) so I wouldn’t know how the shipping is portrayed in that category (Seriously, are there any role-plays of this? Cause I’d like to know!).

Koba x Stone 

I Still Love You - Josh Jenkins 

Yours to Hold - Skillet 

Grenade - Bruno Mars 

Hero - Enrique Iglesias

Immortal - Evanescence 

Description: 

I’ve, sadly, only seen this shipping on role-play blogs here on Tumblr so much of this is guessed (if anyone reading this has role-played this shipping before or have more experience with it, please correct me if I’m wrong!) 

Stone was one of Koba’s friends and first followers in Dawn (aside from Grey) but his motives for following Koba are never talked about (also in Revelations, it says he’s dead but he’s clearly seen alive in War…Does he have superpowers or did he just disappear and showed up again for War?) 

(Here’s my guess) Stone likely disagreed with Caesar’s role (to some extent but I doubt he was as extreme about it as Koba was) but what if, his main reason for following Koba had more to do with him having secret feelings for the bonobo than anything else? What if Stone saw and knew that Koba was still haunted by his past and comforted him when no one else would? And by the time the humans reappeared in Dawn, Stone developed his own hatred for the species that had hurt his love?

Meanwhile, Koba, who likely doesn’t feel comfortable talking about his past with anyone and felt betrayed and angered when Caesar disregarded his hatred of humans, probably would have resisted Stone’s affection for a long time before he finally let him in and fully accepted the comfort and love from the chimp (it is also possible Koba used that very sympathy to manipulate Stone into doing his bidding but I’m not sure if he would have needed to as, again, Stone would have already hated humans for torturing Koba in the past anyway).

Now about Stone’s death/survival: Let’s say that Stone survived Dawn (as seen in War). If he really did have feelings for Koba, it’s likely he would have felt guilty and somewhat responsible for his love’s death as he had chosen to agree with him that the apes should go to war with humans instead of talking Koba out of it (to be fair I’m not sure if Koba could have been convinced otherwise after the fight with Caesar in the dam but I think Stone would have had a better chance of reasoning with him anyone else).

Now let’s say Stone had actually died and Koba wasn’t defeated by Caesar. I think it’s more than safe to say Koba would be screwed if he was the one to have to go to war with the Colonel in War instead of Caesar (and it may be reasonable to suspect he may eventually realize the gravity of what he did and would regret it all as the war continues) but if this war took Stone early on, and if Stone and Koba were romantically involved, it’s also reasonable to assume Koba would have regretted that most of all-seeing Stone as the last (and by the time of War, the only) to love him and care about him and feeling lost and alone without him.

All in all, this shipping has a love lost and a sort of ‘dam(sel) in distress’ feel to it.

Koba x Cornelia

Sk8ter Boi - Avril Laringe 

When I was Your Man - Bruno Mars

Uptown Girl - Billy Joel

Bad Boy - Cascada 

Dear in The Headlights - Owl City 

Description:

I have the same problem here-total guesswork! 

Based on what little I know of this shipping so far, it reminds me of the ‘outcast falls in love with popular person’ scenario that is sometimes seen in high school movies. But this shipping could seriously work as a love triangle story! 

Koba and Cornelia have little to no interaction in the books (the ones I’ve read so far anyway!) or in the movies but it is known that they see each other as honorary brother and sister (due to Caesar and Koba being honorary brothers). It’s reasonable to assume they had mutual respect for each other and that Cornelia was just as betrayed by Koba’s actions as Caesar was. 

However, it is never revealed what Koba’s plans would have been for Cornelia had Caesar truly died (there is a chance he could have forced her into marrying him but I also think there's a chance she would have rebelled against him and Koba could have decided to kill her (or kill Cornelius as punishment and then kill her? I dunno know)). 

Also, what if Koba had wanted Cornelia as his wife all along and only decided to kill Caesar when he did because the humans ‘conveniently’ showed up (unlikely but maybe)? I think this shipping was born from the idea that Koba always had a secret crush on Cornelia but kept it a secret because she married Caesar and knew he had no chance with her.

Another thought (and this is highly unlikely but still): In the wild, chimps would have multiple mates (Rocket in Rise for example) so there's also a (tiny) chance that Caesar could (in theory) be married to both Cornelia AND Koba-I have never heard of this particular thing happening and I’m not sure if the Caba and/or the Koba x Cornelia shippings are popular enough to warrant that sort of dynamic but it would make an interesting fanfic. 

Koba x Pope 

Issues - Julia Michaels

Battles Scars - Guy Sebastian Ft. Lupe Fiasco

Love the Way you Lie - Eminem Ft. Rhianna

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

Courage - Superchick

Description:

For those who don’t know, Pope is the main villain from the Dawn comics. He’s very similar to Koba (as they’re both apes that came from labs) but worse as he enslaved primitive apes and saw them as lesser beings-going as far as calling them ‘stupid animals’. 

Anyway, me and a friend made this one up a while back in our discussions and, from what I remember, we had two or three(?) different scenarios for this shipping. 

One being that since they were both abused and tortured by humans, they may find comfort in each other (finding it easy to show vulnerability to someone who’s equally damaged) and fall in love from their shared experiences. 

In the comic, Pope’s past is only hinted by Koba when he says: “He was like me…A lab ape. Bad Things, maybe worse.” and then his past is never mentioned of again however, Pope does say: “Never show weakness.” after the killing of a human later in the comic. Based on that, it’s reasonable to suspect that Pope may harbor a similar hatred to humans as Koba does and may suffer from demons of his own but keeps it well hidden from other apes.

Two being more about their personalities: Both Koba and Pope are capable of hurting people (as seen when Koba killed Ash and shot Caesar and Maurice in Dawn and when Pope killed the alpha, killed Fifer and Cora and enslaved all the primitive apes in the comic) and both are described by the PoTA Fandom Wiki as ‘cruel and tyrannical’ (with Koba being described as ‘belittling’, ‘unstable’ and ‘manipulative’ and Pope as ‘immoral’, ‘arrogant’ and ‘egomaniacal’). 

Considering these traits, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine one of them to perceive the other’s vulnerability as ‘weakness’ and actually abuse the other (like Pope abusing Koba or Koba abusing Pope). Based on their personalities, it’s possible the kind of abuse they’d inflict on each other would likely be physical, emotional, or mental abuse (or all three).

Third (and this is more of continuation of the second one!), even if Koba and Pope weren’t abusing each other, their relationship would likely be argumentative, unhealthy, troubling, rough and just very dysfunctional. 

These are two very damaged apes with traumas that were not properly dealt with or given help for and full of pent up rage and hate towards humans (plus Pope hated Caesar and disrespected his rule). If they were to be a couple, their own traumas and hatred would feed off of each other and may, inadvertently, make it worse (this would likely not be a problem if Pope and Koba were with other people as a person who doesn’t have the same experiences or resentment as them would likely help ‘heal’ them). Maybe their relationship could work but they may need therapy (psychotherapy and/or couple therapy) before it gets there.

Red x Winter 

Sorry - Halsey 

Please Don’t Leave Me - P!nk

Accidentally in Love - Counting Crows

Secrets - OneRepublic

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

Description:

Eeeeeek! This one is my second favorite! I can’t wait to share this dynamic! :D 

Both gorillas are first seen in Revelations. Red being manipulative, defiant, aggressive and violent (as shown when he manipulated Grey, lead the soldiers to the building where the colony was hiding in, tried to kill Cornelia (twice and one being while she was trying to help another female ape give birth!) and also when he slapped Cedar) and Winter being fearful and timid (as seen when he faced the wall after the building next to the colony’s hiding place was blown up and when he failed to kill Cornelia (which Red manipulated him into trying to do anyway)). Both are seen again in War, where Winter proves himself as a coward and Red a traitor. 

Needless to say, both of these gorillas have very different personality types. The interactions they had both in Revelations and in War weren’t enough to say they were friends (let alone romantically involved) however, Red clearly knew Winter was easy to control. Why else would he consistently manipulate him? And Winter appeared to be afraid of Red. This could be because Red was more aggressive than him and Winter feared confrontation. 

However, there’s a lot about the two gorillas that were never revealed (backstory wise. I actually do have a backstory theory for Red but that’s a post for another day). For example, Red was shown to have a lot of anger built up in him and while it is believed to be due to Caesar killing Koba, it feels much deeper than that. 

Koba was only leader for a day and or two (or less, my math isn’t great) and Red was willing to kill Cornelia, manipulate and endanger other apes and betray the colony over that? No, this anger didn’t develop overnight. It had to have been there BEFORE Dawn (and it somehow has something to do with Caesar)!

Then there’s Winter. We know his father died before he was born but we don’t know how or what his relationship was/the whereabouts of his mother (this does open the door for speculation of whether or not the circumstances of his father’s death and the relationship he had with his mother could have anything to do with Winter’s fearfulness).

Finally, their relationship: What if Red’s anger and hate was all a mask? What if, deep down inside, he was actually a very hurt, troubled and damaged person and only knew how to show it through anger? And what if Winter’s greatest flaw was actually his strength? Winter was more open about his feelings in both Revelation and in War (whether it be fear, shock, or worry) while Red was very closed off. 

What if that difference was what originally attracted Winter to Red? What if Winter, despite being intimidated by Red, viewed him as mysterious and was drawn to him by that. Meanwhile, what if Red was secretly jealous of Winter being so open about his vulnerabilities-even if he knew others would look down on him for it.

With all that said (sorry it was that long!), Red and Winter’s relationship would be built on shared (either expressed or hidden) vulnerabilities and traumatic experiences. Both have flaws and neither of them are weak. They just depend on each other for strength and (in one-shots where they survive War) for belonging as they have no one else.

Blue Eyes x Ash 

Bad Day - Daniel Powter

Dark Paradise - Lana Del Ray 

Perfect - P!nk

Complicated - Avril Lavigne 

Count on Me - Bruno Mars

Description:

This is another shipping I’ve only seen briefly-I’m not sure if there are any role-plays of it on Tumblr (but then again I never really looked either!) but there is a fanfic or two out there of this pairing (again, if I miss something a detail regarding this shipping, please let me know!).

Ash is first seen in Dawn when he and Blue Eyes are fishing together. Right away, it’s pretty clear these two are close friends and likely grew up together (which would make sense as their fathers are so close). Based on the interactions between him and Blue Eyes in that scene and the council meeting scene, Ash can be described as humorous (such as when he poked at Blue Eyes) and confident in himself (like when he was teasing Blue Eyes over the bear incident) and Blue Eyes, is protective of him as he (presumably) protected him from Carver before Rocket and the other apes intervened. 

Blue Eyes is left devastated and deeply hurt after Ash’s death and, throughout Revelations, thinks about him constantly and later having a dream about him. 

Since I don’t know that much about this pairing, this is where the guesswork comes in: As these two grew up together, it’s more than likely they also knew each other on a deeper level than their parents did-for example, Blue Eyes could have told Ash all his secrets, whatever worries or fears he had, maybe ranted to him about his anger and frustrations with his father or about being prince. 

I don’t know if Ash had any issues with his parents (as he and Rocket appeared to be very close as father and son-and we don’t really see Ash interacting with Tinker) but if he ever had a bad day, he’d likely talk to Blue Eyes about it just like Blue Eyes would. 

This relationship would be founded on childhood friendship, turned best friends, into lovers. Likely turning into a ‘you’re the only person I trust with my secrets’ kind of relationship while also being a very supportive and protective kind of relationship too.

McCullough x Caesar

I Hate Everything - Three Days Grace 

Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne 

Hold Me Down - Halsey 

You Don’t Own Me - Grace Ft. G-Eazy

Hellfire - The Hunchback of Notre Dam

Description:

I dabbled on this one in my Whumptober one-shots but if anyone’s interested in more of this shipping, there’s a few on AO3 (it’s easily the black sheep of this list but I think it deserves a place here for clarification as to what this shipping could be versus what it sounds like). It’s a weird pairing but it’s worth checking out! 

I think we all know Colonel McCullough as the most evil human in the reboot movies (as he is willing to kill apes and any human who is infected with the virus-his own son for example) and seeing how he treated Caesar in War (chaining him up, forcing him and the ape colony to work, having him whipped and tied to a cross with no food or water for days, killing Cornelia and Blue Eyes) it’s easy to see why this shipping would raise eyebrows but it all depends on how one looks at it. 

For example, I see the shipping as a possible twist on War: As the war between the apes and AO soldiers unfold, McCullough’s desire to capture and/or kill Caesar turns into something else. He becomes obsessed with the Ape King and decides the best way to defeat him and get rid of the apes would be to destroy Caesar’s life. So he deliberately kills Cornelia and Blue Eyes knowing it will provoke Caesar to go after him and later in the base when McCullough has Red and Preacher bring Caesar to his office, he blackmails Caesar into marrying him (saying that he’ll let the colony live if he agrees).

As a result of it, Caesar becomes McCullough’s “chimp-wife” and is a prisoner in this forced marriage, the ape colony thinks he’s abandoned and/or betrayed them, the AO soldiers and the Donkeys are confused by the whole thing and Red and Preacher (who witnessed the Colonel’s blackmailing marriage proposal to Caesar) are thinking “WTF is happening here?”.

Another way one could see this shipping would be as something funny. Yes, it’s dysfunctional but that could be the point! If one wanted to make a fanfic of this shipping, they could use the dysfunctional aspects of the relationship and make it funny. Think Marge and Homer Simpson for example.

For those who have an issue with this shipping, I 100% agree this relationship would be doomed from the start (if we decide to take it seriously). If McCullough and Caesar were to be married, I can picture the Colonel being abusive and predigest towards Caesar and his species, blaming him for all things wrong in the world (such as the virus, the fall of the human race), likely never showing any love or affection towards Caesar, and poor Caesar would become depressed and miserable from this awful marriage. 

Bon x Pope (from the Dawn comics!)

Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis 

Follow Him - Peggy March 

I would Do Anything For You - Foster The People 

Just The Girl - Click Five

All You Wanted - Michelle Branch

Description:

To be honest, I’m not sure if Bon was really this close to Pope as he only appeared once or twice in the Dawn comics BUT! he was one of his loyal followers and while it is possible he only disagreed with Caesar’s rule, there’s another chance that he may have had feelings for Pope (much like my description of the Stone x Koba shipping).

For those who didn’t read the comics, let me sum up the interactions between these two: Bon was one of Pope’s followers and is seen returning back to the zoo after (unsuccessfully) searching for an ape named Fifer who escaped them and informs Pope that there are humans nearby. Bon also took part in the battle between Pope and Koba and was later banished along with Pope’s followers while the primitive apes followed Koba back to the Ape Village. 

As this shipping, almost no leg to stand on (and is more made up than the others on this list) allow me to explain it here: Much like Grey and Stone towards Koba, Bon (and a gorilla named Rex) followed Pope-presumably because they also disliked Caesar and/or his rule. As Pope didn’t actually plan on killing Caesar until later in the comics and didn’t realize there were primitive apes, in the beginning, I don’t think there was any manipulation going on from him.

Now let’s look at Pope for a second: Pope was an ape who looked down upon anyone who showed weakness or was primitive and had no problem with enslaving, torturing, endangering or murdering other apes. Like I said in my description for the Koba x Pope shipping, Pope was also a lab ape (with fishnet scars on the left side of his face, shoulder and chest giving us a hint as to what he was put through-though it’s never actually discussed) so it is reasonable to imagine he may have his own demons and traumas, much like Koba does (unsurprisingly, Pope also hates humans). 

The thing about Pope that I’m curious about is if he is traumatized from what had been done to him at the hands of humans, does he show it? He likely doesn’t as he appears to dislike seeing it and other apes showing weakness but that would mean that, much like Koba, he’s holding things back, probably much more than Koba was (as Koba is seen in Dawn talking (briefly) about what he went through with humans to Caesar). 

Now looking at Pope and Bon, it makes me wonder if Bon could have picked up on that. Like what if Bon saw the pain that Pope was covering up and reached out to him? 

That, and it is also possible Bon was into the ‘bad boy’ type.

Phew, glad that’s over! XD

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

can you PLEASE do us all a favor and write a soft ass wonah fic/oneshot??? they deserve way more content and honestly i'd read that shit everyday nO JOKE

((you mcfreaking bet i can! this was so fun to write sdkjfs))

“So, you’re the artist?”

Jonah took a seat on the bench near Walker and his supplies. Out of all the people he’d expected to see at his sister’s birthday party, Walker was not one of them. Maybe he was a more popular artist in Shadyside than Jonah realized.

“Jonah, right?” Walker asked, setting out his charcoals of varying densities and a few erasers. Beside his easel, he had a small stack of papers, cut to size.

“Yeah! I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here,” Jonah admitted, picking at the chipped green paint on the bench, “not like, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but like…I guess you’re a much more popular artist than I thought,”

If Jonah hadn’t had his gaze so intently focused on the ground, he would have noticed a light blush creeping up Walker’s neck. But just Jonah’s luck, he missed it.

“Do you mind if I draw you? I think the bouncy castle is taking the attention away from me,” Walker chuckled, placing a piece of paper against the board on his easel and a piece of vine charcoal between his fingers.

“Oh, sure,” Jonah fumbled, trying to find a pose. He tried crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap, but that just looked like an awkward school photo.

“Relax, dude. Just..let’s have a conversation. You don’t have to stay frozen in one position. I can draw you pretty well from you just being here,” the other boy supplied, lightly sketching the outline of a face.

Jonah nodded, still fumbling with what to do with his hands because he’d be damned if they weren’t doing something. Opting for picking at the remnants of purple nail polish that lived on his ring finger, he tried to start a conversation.

“So…do you come here often?”

Walker snorted, smudging a little bit of the ears, but he was able to fix it quickly. “Quite a pick up line, dude,” he chuckled, making Jonah blush deeply, his lips curling into an impish smile.

“But in all seriousness, I don’t come here often enough,” he admitted, studying Jonah intensely for a few seconds before reverting his attention to his array of charcoals, “The occasional birthday party, a school field trip…a date,” he added softer, his lips quirking into a small smile.

Date. Jonah’s face fell, but he tried not to let it show when Walker was looking at him. He could study the boy’s brown eyes for hours, probably finding more and more beauty with each passing moment. But Walker would probably think that was weird, so he kept quiet.

“Oh, yeah. Dates. How’s Buffy?” Jonah asked, swinging his legs over the bar on the bench. Walker would never have told him that the way the light hit him made him look like an angel, instead smiling to himself.

“You haven’t heard? We broke up,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, shoot sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject,” Jonah apologized quickly, mentally scolding himself.

“Don’t worry about it,” Walker met the boy’s gaze, and for a second, Jonah thought that something was about to change, “sorry I’m staring. I wanna get your eyes right,” he explained, his attention once again returning to the easel.

“The break-up was mutual. It was just creating so much extra drama with Andi, and I think we’re all happier now.” A short pause followed, during which Walker tried to get Jonah to talk a little more.

“What been going on with you? I hear you’re still writing music,” the boy asked, switching over to his eraser to fix some highlights.

“Yeah. I’m actually trying to work on this one about this…person,” he edited his speech, but he couldn’t help but smile, “and I don’t know whether or not I’ll perform it, but I just wanna have it, you know?” He sighed happily, his nose crinkling up from his smile.

“It’s the same way with visual arts,” Walker agreed, “sometimes I’ll draw portraits of people and I have no intention of showing them to anyone. I actually have a pile of them sitting in a drawer in my room. I still look at them from time to time, but they’re mostly hidden.” Another pause.

“You must think that’s pretty lame,” he added, smiling weakly at the boy on the bench.

“Of course not,” Jonah assured him, his smile showing off the dimples that were craters in his cheeks, “I have songs I’ve recorded on my phone that I sometimes listen to when I get the chance, but nobody else has heard them,” he admitted, chewing on his lower lip, “I can…do you wanna hear one?”

“Oh, you don’t have to, really,” Walker assured him, adding the final touches to the drawing. Without Jonah noticing, he scribbled something in the bottom right corner, and then turned his attention to Jonah, who was holding out a pair of headphones.

“I want to,” he promised, scrolling through his video album and selecting one. He was internally cringing at the lyrics, but apparently, Walker found them endearing, grinning throughout the whole performance. Somewhere during the performance, Jonah stopped paying attention to his singing and started focusing on how close he and Walker were; sharing headphones kinda did that. Andi was right; he did look cuter up close.

Walker must have caught him staring because the next thing he knew, he was being jostled by the boy.

“Earth to Jonah!”

Jonah blinked a few times. “Oh, sorry. I just got…distracted,” he admitted, and both boys were definitely blushing at this point. In the distance, a few kids, along with their parents, were wandering over to Walker’s stand.

“I should…probably get going. You have company coming,” Jonah smiled, taking the headphones, along with his phone, and shoving them into his pocket.

“Wait!” Walker said, grabbing the drawing off of the the easel and rolling it up, “keep it,”

Jonah could not control the smile that made its way onto his face. “Thank you,” he murmured, graciously.

“I have to get to these kids but…maybe I can show you some of my art someday?” he offered, rocking back on his heels.

“I’d love to,” Jonah beamed, giving the other boy a polite wave and following the path back towards where the leftover cake was. He stopped for a moment, glancing back at Walker, who was definitely in his zone. Smiling, he took his drawing and unfolded it. He could not have been more blown away when he saw the masterpiece.

It was a drawing of him, obviously, but it was so…magical. The way that the light hit his face, the small crinkles by his eyes, the way that Walker had drawn his smile, it was all so beautiful. He looked genuinely happy. As he was about to put it away, he noticed a much harsher scribble in one of the corners. Walker had written his phone number and a little winky emoji.

Smirking, Jonah pulled his phone out of his pocket and added Walker to his contact list. Before he left to get cake, he sent Walker a quick text.

[Walker The Smooth Talker: so…you’re the artist]

tag list: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz

[sims3morgans]

Siblings Interview Tag

I was tagged by @dreamsongsims​ Thank you! It was fun to write dialogue for Olwyn and Bethan, I’ve not done that before because of the style of my blog. I got a little bit carried away, hope you enjoy!

Tagging: @simcatcher​

Interview under the cut...

The following is part of the transcript of an interview with the Morgan Sisters, following the publication of Olwyn Morgan’s second book. Under her pseudonym Octavia Morrigan, Olwyn has had incredible success but has until refused all calls for media interviews. She agreed to this one for International Sisters Day so long as her sister Bethan could join us.

1. Which one of you is the older sibling?

Bethan: That would be Olwyn.

Interviewer: Do you remember a time before Bethan came along Olwyn?

Olwyn: I do, but only just. My earliest memory is watching my parents renew their vows when I was a toddler. After that I hadn’t long aged up into a child when Bethan was born – so I haven’t got many memories without her.”

2. What do you like about your sibling?

Interviewer: Bethan, would you like to start?

Bethan: Sure. Okay so the first thing you need to know about Olwyn is she’s kind. And patient. I’ve seen that my whole life, she’s been the perfect big sister, balancing me out – I’m a little more abrupt I guess.  But as I’ve got older I’ve seen she’s got a wicked streak too. She kept her success as an author a secret but played with us by buying expensive presents… I knew my prom dress was hella expensive but I couldn’t prove it! Oh yeah, so she’s generous too.

Interviewer: And you Olwyn?

Olwyn: Bethan is patient in her own way too. When we were children she tried  hard to help me out of my shell, I was so shy you see. What I really admire in her though is the way she feels things so deeply. I can remove myself form my feelings a bit, but Bethan really feels whatever she’s feeling. Love, hate, loyalty… it’s wonderful.

3. What annoys you about your sibling?

//Bethan glances at Olwyn, she’s grinning.//

Bethan: Olwyn?

Olwyn: Bethan can be a bit… well sometimes she….

Bethan: I’m a bit much!

Olwyn, smiling: Exactly. When a family friend was living with us, back when we lived in Bridgeport.

Bethan: That ****.

Olwyn: Bethan! You see? Well sometimes she feels things so deeply she actually makes the situation worse. A***** (name redacted) was being unpleasant to me personally, but the three of us shared a room. The smart thing to do was to swallow our feelings so we could rub along in those small quarters – Bethan took against him and created an atmosphere.

//Bethan rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair.//

Bethan: A***** (name redacted) was a ****. Whatever. You know what annoys me about you Olwyn? You’re too easy going. You forgive people, and let them walk all over you. If I ever see A***** again, he won’t know what’s hit him.

4. Describe your sibling(s) with three adjectives.

Bethan: Olwyn is serene, kind, and unaccountably humble.

//Olwyn appears touched, her hand on her chest.//

Olwyn: Thank you. I would say that Bethan is earnest, adaptable and loyal.

5. What is your sibling’s/siblings’ biggest talent(s)?

Bethan: Oh that’s easy, she’s an amazing author! I loved her work even before I knew she was the one writing it.

Olwyn: Thank you Bethan, it was quite tough listening to you speculate about the plot for the sequel, you had it all so wrong! But anyway.  Bethan’s biggest talent is her ability to see the diamond in the rough. She does it at work, finding scrap to turn into art, but also in people. She’s see’s inside people instinctively, and often brings out the best in them just by being herself.

//Bethan’s mouth drops open.//

Bethan: I… Olwyn. I… that’s beautiful.

//Olwyn shrugs.//

Olwyn: It’s what you do.

6. What is your sibling(s) really bad at?

Olwyn: Bethan can’t always see very far ahead. She lives in the moment you know? She can be so fixated on doing what she’s doing the consequences escape her.

Bethan: Oh so you’re bringing up the swimming thing again…

Olwyn: I…

Bethan: Okay, I swam too far out into Bridgeport River. I was having fun!

Olwyn: Bethan it’s all water under the bridge.

//Bethan pauses, then grins.//

Bethan: That was terrible. Right, okay so Olwyn is really bad at gardening. Mum and Dad, their whole livelihood is gardening and Olwyn’s been trying to help them since she was a kid but they’ve never had the heart to tell her how bad she is at it!

Olwyn: They all look the same! How you can tell a shoot from a weed…

7. Do you have nicknames for each other?

Bethan: No not really. We don’t do that in our family I guess. Olwyn would you..?

Olwyn: Yes I agree. Both our names are quite short so we’ve not needed to shorten them further, and silly nicknames… no – it’s not for us.

8. What’s one thing you can do that your sibling(s) can’t?

Olwyn: Bethan’s not really at home in the kitchen. I can cook quite well, I do a nice ratatouille. Which is just as well we eat a lot of vegetables. We were quite poor for a long time you see, sometimes we only had the vegetables we’d grown ourselves to eat, for weeks at a time. You learn to make the most of what you have.

Bethan: I paint – I don’t know if Olwyn’s ever picked up a paintbrush! I did a few for her side of the bedroom because she was going to be satisfied with bare walls.

9. Did you get along when you were younger?

Bethan: We did. We’re fairly different Sims, but we got along very well.

Olwyn: We had to I think. Our bedroom in Bridgeport was so small… any arguments could have got nasty. Maybe being so different was our saving grace, less conflict?

10. What is your funniest childhood memory of your sibling?

Olwyn: Bethan was a treasure trove of funny moments, I think she put it on a bit to lighten tension. When we were both children, she had this signature pratfall off the climbing frame at school – cracked me up every time!

Bethan: Looking back, there’s loads of moments where Olwyn was being really funny but in her understated way you know? I think for me it’s when we were both teens and we had this really nasty teacher for music class. Neither of us are musical, so she was pretty mean to us. Olwyn would insist in smiling sweetly and saying “See you next Tuesday” to her after every lesson. Cracked us all up, because we weren’t sure whether the good girl Olwyn knew what she was saying! Mrs Bridey wasn’t sure either – her eyes would bug out!

Olwyn: Oh I definitely knew what I was saying.

11. Are you closer now or when you were younger?

Bethan: Physically obviously we were closer when we were younger. Not living together does limit things! I miss Olwyn’s cooking, and chatting over breakfast… but we’re still close.

Olwyn: I think we have that kind of relationship where you might not see each other for a couple of weeks, but when you do it’s like you’ve never been apart. We’re not brittle, we’re sisters and friends and no amount of time apart could change that. We’re young adults now, and making our own lives, and we’re confident enough in our relationship to give each other the space to do that.

Bethan: Ugh, Olwyn you always say things so nice!”

Olwyn: I am a wordsmith Bethan!

12. Did you compete with each other?

Bethan: Nope.

Olwyn: No, not really. We built each other up.

13. Which one of you is more likely to turn out like your mum or dad?

Olwyn: Well neither of us is particularly interested in vegetables…

Bethan: Olwyn! She means like, emotionally and stuff.”

Olwyn: Oh of course. Well we’ve both inherited a strong sense of family being important from them. Of sticking together, and helping each other out. Financially, emotionally, we’re a team.

Bethan: Right. Olwyn’s got it in one – family is more important than anything. Than money, than fame… it’s everything.

14. Which one is most likely to have a big family?

Both at the same time: “Bethan.” “Olwyn.”

//The sisters look at each other, both surprised by the others answer.//

Interviewer: Hmm, moving on…

15. What is one thing about your sibling(s) that has changed as you’ve gotten older?

Olwyn: Bethan where’s her hair down sometimes now. It’s been in a ponytail since she was old enough to reach behind her head to tie it up! But I guess she’s also more secure in herself. You seemed to want to prove yourself when we were younger Bethan, you still have drive and ambition but the edge to it has softened.

//Bethan nods.//

Bethan: I guess I can see that. I was desperate to help the family with our finances, then I was desperate to make a connection with a boy – any boy! I think the urgency wore off both those things, and I was much happier for it.

And you Olwyn, I think you’ve found your niche. In Bridgeport you never really fit in anywhere, but here in Appaloosa Plains you’ve found friends and  - oh I dunno. You just really seem to belong here.”

16. Who’s better at math?

Olwyn: Bethan.

Bethan: Yep, definitely me.

17. Who is more pessimistic and who is more optimistic?

Bethan: We’re both optimists, but it comes out differently I think. Olwyn finds the silver lining in any situation, so is happy to sit in it even if it’s actually not that great. I look at a situation and look for ways to make things better, or move things along at least.

18. Is there anything you don’t like doing together?

Olwyn: I don’t think we’ve ever gone drinking together, I’m not sure if it’s because Bethan and I don’t want to or just haven’t…

Bethan: Hey that’s right! And a lot of our friends overlap. Weird.

19. Which one of you do you think will get married first?

Olwyn: Bethan, things are looking pretty serious with her and Calvin..?

Bethan: I’m not sure we’re there yet!

Olwyn: Bethan, you have matching tattoos.

Bethan: Yes but… well he hasn’t asked. And I don’t plan to. Getting married is just so – I mean I love him but… It’s so public! You’ll probably get swept off your feet and marry someone within a season while Calvin and I are still figuring things out.

20. Lastly, how often do you argue?

Olwyn: Not often.

Bethan: Only about the big things, we don’t stress the small stuff. We get that from our dad, he’s pretty easy going.

Olwyn: Whereas mum...

Both laugh

[willofhounds]

Broken souls ch6 full chapter this time sorry

Newt's POV

He stood in the large atrium where he recieved his missions. All of the elders were on the screens. Their cold eyes watching him anger clear in them. Behind him Seraphina stood waiting and watching everything.

One of the elder inquired, "Number XIII, you do understand the reasons for this do you not?"

Newt replied flippantly, "Not really."

There was a twitch in the other's face. It seemed he had angered the elder. Good.

A younger voice said, "Number XIII I hope the gravity of your situation is not lost on you. We made an except to the rules when we brought you into the Numbers. We allowed you knowledge for our reasons of doing so."

The first said on the same tangent having regained his composure, "The skills you posses are in line with that of a number. You are once more to seek out and eliminate the bioweapon."

Newt replied calmly, "The only thing I will do is act freely upon my own will. I will do what I think is right."

Another one of the elders snapped, "Do you truly believe you have free will? There is no freedom for a number. As your name says you're a black cat and we own you. You do as you are told just like any stray we pick up off the streets."

Newt replied still holding that Cheshire grin, "Have you ever known a cat to do as you tell it? I can tell you that they just do as they want."

Newt glared as he refused, "No. I refuse to bow any longer. I will protect those by my strength and will alone."

Breaths were sucked in. One growled, "Number XIII, do you understand the ramifications for what you just said? There are grave consequences. We will give you this one chance to recant your insolent outburst."

"I refuse," he calmly stated, "I will do only what I believe is right."

With that he spun on his heel and left. He knew what was to come next. The elders would issue orders for his death.

Unsurprisingly Jenos stood just outside the door. His dark eyes watching Newt, his right hand flexing.

Would his friend start something here? If he did then Newt would give everything he had to survive.

Newt walked past him not hesitating even for a second. He was half way across the room when Jenos growled, "If you walk out those doors then you will be an enemy. Do you really want to throw everything away so easily?"

Newt sighed deeply. He knew where his friend was coming from. Chronos has given them a place and a purpose. If it wasn't for Graves he would still be killing. Slowly destroying his soul until there was nothing left.

Newt said calmly not meeting Jenos's eyes, "I can't do it anymore Jenos. It is killing me. I'm leaving now. Don't try to stop me."

He didn't want to fight. Though he would if it meant escaping. There wasn't a chance in hell he would give them the chance to put him in retraining.

Once he left the building he started moving towards where his apartment was. There were a few things that he would take with him. The main thing was he didn't want Graves hanging around there any longer. Chronos would not hesitate to kill him to get to Newt.

The almost full moon above him was an ominous red. Some said that a red moon meant blood would be split that night. Given how well his night had gone so far he was inclined to believe it.

His senses heightened as he got the feeling that he was being followed. The footsteps behind him were heavy. Too much so to be Sephiria. Too heavy and easily picked up to be with Chronos.

He drew Hades and spun around on his heel. Standing there with a gentle look in his bright blue eyes was the second man he was supposed to kill. His wand wasn't out nor did he appear threatening. Newt knew from experience however appearances could be deceiving.

The man turned his head to the side as he said, "I was waiting for you to come out of that place. The wards and protections on that building are extensive. Only those chosen are allowed to enter. Even I couldn't get through them."

Newt questioned his eyes narrowing dangerously, "What do you want? Why are you following me?"

The man gave him a gentle look that set his nerves on fire. He replied calmly, "Tonight you were sent to kill Theseus Scammander and myself. Yet instead of killing us you chose to save us. Not even your friend in MACUSA could explain why."

Newt asked his eyes wide with surprise, "His name was Theseus? What was his last name?"

The man replied almost in question himself, "Scammander. His name is Theseus Scammander. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."

His brother was alive. His mentor always said that he would find a way to kill the last Scammander. To finish his job. It seemed though that it never happened.

"He recognized you immediately you know," Dumbledore said startling him, "Theseus knew exactly who you were when he turned around. We all thought you were going to shoot him."

Newt almost had shot him too. If it wasn't for Percival he would have. The older man had shown him a new path. One not frought with killing. In a way he had become the older brother that Theseus tried to be. Only their time was cut short when their parents were killed.

Newt inquired concerned for his only friend left, "Graves isn't going to get in trouble for knowing me is he? He didn't know what I did for a living. Just that I carried a gun."

Dumbledore was going to reply when a familiar cackle was heard. Newt swung Hades in the direction. There leaning against a wall was Creed Diskenth.

Creed was one of the elite members of the Erasers. While not a Number he was still considered one of the best killers in Chronos. The only thing keeping him from being a Number was his sadistic tendencies. He would not hesitate to kill civilians as well as his target.

Newt growled, "Creed. Here to take me back to Chronos?"

The other held out his hands in a sign of surrender. Though he knew he could draw Kotetsu just as fast as Newt could draw Hades. They were killers trained to be the best.

Creed said watching as Newt put himself in between the Eraser and Dumbledore, "I'm supposed to be talking you out of leaving Chronos. Instead I want to offer you a place amongst the betters. Those that will rid the world of Chronos."

Newt barely withheld a roll of his eyes. Creed was always one for the dramatics. He didn't leave Chronos only to kill for someone else.

"So that's your plan Creed," came familiar tones of Sephiria. It seemed he had hung around here for too long.

Newt pushed the too curious Dumbledore farther behind him. There was still an open mission out on this man. He was a free kill to whoever wanted it.

The auburn haired man asked, "Who are they?"

"Chronos," he snapped.

Creed it seemed wanted to create his own group. One that would surpass the Numbers. For whatever reason he wanted Newt.

Newt growled, "Run, Dumbledore."

A hand grabbed him as the other replied, "I think not."

Then it felt like he was being sucked through a tube the whole world turned black for a minute. Then they appeared with a sharp crack. They were on the rooftop of his apartment. The very one he met Graves on. How?

"I told him," came a familiar voice.

Newt turned to find Graves standing behind them by the stairs. His worried grey eyes softened with relief.

Newt rumbled slightly, "Graves. Why did you have Dumbledore come after me? I can handle myself."

Instead of answering Graves shot a question of his own, "She's your boss, isn't she?"

Newt smiled as he replied shaking his head, "Ex boss actually. I left Chronos tonight."

Graves relaxed his stance slightly. Newt hadn't noticed before but the other had been tense. Almost as if he expected Newt to kill again.

Graves asked curious now, "Why?"

Newt didn't answer at first. Both men were watching him with curious expressions.

Graves who had known him for longer sighed. Obviously thinking that their conversation was over.

Newt whispered so quiet that it was almost unheard by both men, "You," Percival froze his face showing his incomprehension, "Your words stopped me from killing again."

Dumbledore began to fade into the shadows. Whatever he was there for it was over. He would leave the two men alone for now.

Graves said quietly, "After everything tonight you really shouldn't stay here."

Newt sighed, "I wasn't planning on it. Just needed to get a few things."

"I'll go with you. Just in case those people show up again."

Newt had a feeling that Chronos wouldn't appear again. At least not tonight. They were most likely to busy dealing with Creed.

[red-streaks]

herbology 101: never read from a wizard’s book

mildred and miss hardbroom and art. oh, a funny little herb that starts it all.

or, read on ao3

“Miss Hardbroom?”

A small voice drifts through her closed door. Hecate looks at her timepiece and notices its gone past 8:30, a time she usually spends revising her classroom notes.

As it has been the tradition for the past four terms, Mildred Hubble’s name is at the top of her page, underlined three times with such force that the paper almost tears.

Confiscated coloring pencils for using them in the middle of creating a sleeping drought, reads the neat handwriting next to her name.

“Miss Hardbroom, it’s um, Mildred. Hubble?” There’s another timid knock, and Hecate sighs deeply, turning the page of her journal. “I just…had a question, please?”

“Come in,” she says tiredly, opening the door with a flick of her wrist. She already knows Mildred is going to try and weasel her way out of getting her coloring pencils back, and Miss Hardbroom is in for a long rambling filled with excuses.

“What question could you possibly have a half hour before lights out?”

“Um,” Mildred enters the classroom sheepishly, head peeking in behind the potions lab’s door before her entire body follows. “I was in the library studying for tomorrow’s class because I don’t actually know what an assimilation spell- uh, potion does and I found a book that explained it rather well, but uh…” She pauses and considers her next words, an apprehensive look on her face.

Miss Hardbroom’s eyebrows rise higher and higher with every word she says and she finds that she can’t quite yet respond to Mildred even if she wanted to.

When was the last time she had caught the girl in the library past dinnertime? Miss Hardbroom can’t ever recall a time Mildred was anywhere else but with Maud and Enid in their rooms after dinner.

“Well,” Mildred starts before falling silent again. Miss Hardbroom feels a trickle of annoyance at her hesitancy. “The book’s pages are really old, and some of the pictures are faded and it says that you need calendula to prepare it but I really don’t know what that is, either, and there’s no picture of it anywhere in the library and I couldn’t find it in the supply closet, so I tried going by the description in the book but  -.”

“Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom interrupts, and folds her hands over each other in a perfect picture of composure, something she very much does not feel. “What is your question?”

“Um,” Mildred looks scared, suddenly, and her gaze falls to the ground. Miss Hardbroom notices just then that the girl is hugging a rather large journal in her arms, her braids falling over it. “Is…is this what a calendula plant looks like?” She asks timidly, and unceremoniously drops the journal, jostling the entire table.

“It’s a herb,” Miss Hardbroom says distractedly, watching closely as Mildred opens the book up and flips hurriedly through the pages.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, and frowns in concentration. “It’s somewhere in here…”

Miss Hardbroom catches a glimpse of a Hypnapillion intricately designed in a dozen different colors and the tail end of a salamander’s vibrant yellow body before Mildred let’s the book fall open to the only page without any color at all.

She pushes the book a little closer to Miss Hardbroom, shakily inhales what she must believe is a small, inconspicuous breath, and takes a tiny step back.

Directly below her nose, Miss Hardbroom can barely contain her surprise at what she sees. She tries, Merlin, she tries her hardest but Miss Hardbroom’s eyebrows feel as if they’re going to lift straight out of her face.

“Does it? Look like a calendula, I mean,” Mildred asks, straining her neck to peer into her own book.

“Hardly,” Miss Hardbroom replies instinctively and tries not to feel too bad when Mildred’s shoulder slumps. But it truly doesn’t. The herb she’s looking for comes in cloves of three and is shaped rather peculiarly with bright blue dots adorning each of its six sides. Mildred’s has three sides and specks of ink spattered over each leaf, a poor imitation.

Miss Hardbroom purses her lips and mulls over how best to show her before she materializes a feather quill and poises it over thin air.

“The shape is more accurately drawn like this,” she says as a piece of parchment appears the second she moves the quill. When she’s finished, she looks up and sees Mildred swaying on her toes, trying her hardest to see the rough drawing upside down.

“Oh,” she mumbles and scrunches her nose. “That’s an es-estoile?” The word sounds unfamiliar coming from her tongue.

“Why, yes,” Miss Hardbroom says, frowning. “A star that has six-sides. Surely, you learned this at a younger age, Mildred Hubble.”

“Uh, yeah.” Mildred flushes. “But in school- ah, in non-magical schools, they teach it as a hexagon. I didn’t – I didn’t understand what an estoile was. In the book I was reading, I mean.”

Miss Hardbroom opens her mouth, but she finds that she doesn’t quite know what to say.

“Ah,” she settles on at last, unoriginal and plainly unimaginative. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Mildred croaks and there’s an awkward pause where neither of them say a thing and stare at a random spot on the wall.

“I’ll just read the description again, anyways.” Mildred shrugs and moves to take her book back. “I only wanted to draw it so I could memorize it. Sorry to bother you, Miss Hardbroom.”

Mildred wraps her hands around the heavy cover of her journal and Miss Hardbroom feels the sudden need to snatch it back just to leaf through it.

She despises art, doesn’t see the purpose in its frivolity but there is something about Mildred’s eyes as she looks down dejectedly that makes her open her mouth and say, “Which book did you read the description from?”

“Well,” Mildred frowns, and scuffs the toe of her boot against the floor. “The author’s name was Leon, um, Star- Star...”

“Leon Stargazer,” Miss Hardbroom finishes and materializes the book Mildred was just reading from into her open hand. “Herbs and their Magical Properties.”

“Yup,” Mildred nods her head, rising on the tips of her toes to look at the book. “That one.”

Miss Hardbroom looks down at the old weathered book, notices the way Mildred is itching to get her hands on it and quietly resigns herself to a late night of impromptu tutoring. If Mildred is willing to show up, Miss Hardbroom is willing to stay.

“Find the page,” she says, and sets the book down gingerly on top of Mildred’s journal. “And show me.”

Mildred does a funny little thing with her face, almost as if she wants to smile but doesn’t know if she’s allowed to. Miss Hardbroom sniffs and points rather obviously to the book, still sitting there unopened.

“Carefully,” she adds as an afterthought but realizes she needn’t had warned her because the girl is slowly turning the pages with just the barest hint of contact. The book, Miss Hardbroom thinks, is either very, very old, or Mildred Hubble truly does not want to be sent away.

This is the thought that makes her rise and circle around the table to stand next to Mildred, the thought that makes her unfurl her hands and wait patiently until Mildred presents the passage she had been studying.

“Truly abysmal,” Miss Hardbroom mutters four sentences in, itching to spill her red ink all over it. “This will not do. Some wizards should never have been given a spot on the shelf among great witches, Mildred Hubble, and you’ll do well to remember that.”

She doesn’t expect the small giggle that comes about the height of her stomach, or the surrounding warmth that spreads across her face, but she turns on an expert heel and makes her way to her cupboards with faked ease.

“You may examine my sample, but you are not allowed to take it out its jar, do you understand?”

“May I open it?” Mildred bounces on the balls of her feet and Miss Hardbroom thinks she shouldn’t be quite so excited, but she notices the way the girl picks up her journal with enthusiasm and takes a pencil somewhere from behind one of her braids.

“Do not store your utensils in your hair, Mildred,” she tries to scold, but the girl is rushing past her and settling quickly into the stool she usually sits at during class.

In less than twelve hours, Mildred will be back to sit at that very same stool, and she will know the answer to what shape calendula blossoms into at the end of a full moon. All because she wanted to.

“You may open it, yes,” Miss Hardbroom all but whispers, turning slowly to face her cupboard again. Mildred beams.

Beams.

Right at Miss Hardbroom.

Her hands are not shaking when she reaches for the singular clove she’s stored as backup for tomorrow’s class, and her breathing is under control when she unscrews the cap.

But her blood is singing with unrestrained surprise – surprise at Mildred, at her journal, at herself for not noticing what the young witch is always doodling away at.

When she reaches Mildred’s table, she notices her own crude drawing being carefully glued to the empty page next to Mildred’s attempt. A small cat appears at the right corner of the page, stretches slowly and then walks right out of the page, as if it were never there in the first place.

“Smells funny,” Mildred interrupts her thoughts. “Like pumpkins.”

“It has a peculiar smell, yes. Do you know when it is best harvested?”

Mildred shakes her head slowly, then abruptly, stands up taller.

“Only every other full moon! Starting in the second week of spring,” she rapidly says and sits back with an astounded look on her face, as if she’s surprised herself.

“The third week,” she corrects, and watches as Mildred’s eyes dim. “But a good answer, nonetheless.”

She’s never been one to coddle students. Never been the type of teacher that gives out praise for the sake of it. But she has always been the type of academic who learns from her mistakes, and is rewarded with that truth when Mildred shoots her a confused little smile.

“You have until I finish revising my notes to draw this.” She cannot help the sneer that graces her lips at the word, but she nods sharply at Mildred and turns towards her desk without further comment.

She goes through her lesson plan for the first years once more, tweaking things she suddenly does not find fitting, cleans out the cauldron that Beatrice Bunch left simmering for too long and burned, unnecessarily recounts her ingredients for tomorrow and finally takes a curious look towards Mildred’s station.

The girl is tugging at the end of one of her braids, head tilted to the side as her pencil flies over her paper.

Appearing silently behind her desk, Miss Hardbroom peeks over Mildred’s shoulder and sees a pencil replica of the herb sitting in front of her. If Miss Hardbroom hadn’t heard the light scratching noise of the pencil, she would have thought Mildred pulled the herb straight out of the paper with her hands.

“Impressive,” she mumbles and makes Mildred jump.

“Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred screeches, and throws her charcoal stained arms over the drawing. “It- It isn’t ready.”

“My…apologies,” Miss Hardbroom says, if only to keep herself from chuckling at the way Mildred glares at her over her shoulder. Before she rounds the table though, she takes another peek and notices the notes on the margins.

Green, reads Mildred’s messy handwriting, and an arrow points to the end of one of the leaves.

Red, another points to the stem.

Purple during the summer, another reads messily.

As Miss Hardbroom walks back to her station, she feels her magic surge from her fingertips almost instinctively, almost without thought.

“Ten minutes, Mildred,” she says, and ignores the open-mouthed looks of astonishment that Mildred is directing towards her box of coloring pencils, suddenly perched at the end of her desk. “And do not think I will not give you detention if that jar does not find itself back on its proper place before time is up.”

“I’m sure you would, Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred tries saying very seriously, but laughs at the last possible second.

Miss Hardbroom sniffs and turns a random page over.

I really would, she thinks, but she finds herself fighting back a smile.

[whoreforpunz]

kiss it off me - chapter three

❦ ❧ ❦

dreamnap

❦ ❧ ❦

You'd think Sapnap would be overjoyed to finally start his work placement, the final hurdle between him and graduation. However the truth was he felt quite the opposite. Over the last few years, if he had nothing constant in his life, at least he had school. And it absolutely terrified him that he'd no longer have that comfort of always knowing what came next. The loss of control was going to leave him utterly helpless, like a fish out of water.

The ironic part about the situation was Sapnap technically wasn't even leaving school. Just entering a new one in a different role. Like staring out a window all his life and finally looking through the other side. Maybe this fresh perspective would be good for him though. Or at least that's the positivity he was trying to install so he could live in blissful ignorance of the fear and worry eating away at him.

This wasn't like a school assignment or exam where he could learn from his mistakes without consequence though. These were real children's lives and futures and depending on what responsibilities were given to him by the teacher he was working with, some aspect of their education would be delicately placed into his trembling hands.

Nobody would expect an education major to be terrified of putting the skills they spent thousands on in college developing into practice but Sapnap was an example. The idea of messing up and being the first domino knocking over in a chain of awful developments in a child's fundamental years of learning gave him nightmares more often than he would've liked to admit. So it was safe to say that this work placement for the last month of college was going to be more of a challenge than any class he'd ever taken.

It was probably a deeply rooted fear of failure that led him to feel like that and with such intensity. Sapnap would spend hours longer than necessary working on a project to ensure it was perfect. He had to meet his own overly high standards in order to avoid feeling like a complete disappointment and failure to anyone who ever complimented him academically.

Punz did his best to get him to take breaks. Whether it was coming over for dinner, getting a beer or watching a basketball game together. But he wasn't naïve. Once Sapnap was focused, his mind stayed fixated on that and he would zone out completely.

His stubborn behaviour is probably why despite having an easy way into a work placement, Sapnap had asked every other elementary school within walking vicinity before he turned to them. He was nearly tempted to endure the bus even though he got travel sick just so it would open up more options for his already limited self.

Not owning a car in such a big city was a real pain in the ass for him. And since Punz started work way later in the day and wouldn't be caught dead waking up before ten in the morning, he couldn't even sweet talk his way into a lift to work.

So with no options left, he reluctantly got into contact with his final choice. There was nothing bad about the school. On the contrary it was considered one of the best in the district. But Purpled attended it and he'd known most of the staff for years. He didn't want it to be out of pity or them doing him a favour, he wanted to earn it himself with nothing influencing their decision.

At least he was subjected to the same lengthy response time after his interview where they hadn't gone any easier on him. It soothed his nerves and fear of only getting the placement through nepotism.

And now he stood panicked on the morning of his first day. Sapnap desperately racked his brain, attempting to recall what kind of clothes the few male teachers he'd encountered had worn. However Mr Robins with his awful, sweaty flannel shirts wasn't exactly a style icon. And he wasn't sure how his baggy trousers and chains would go down with older teachers and suburban mothers. Which ruled out most of his wardrobe. The only options he really had left were the button ups he'd accumulated from thrift stores and a safe pair of jeans.

Settling on a satin maroon one which he obtained last summer that was honestly a little too nice for school Sapnap let out a sigh of relief, at least he'd make a good first impression. Nimble fingers closed all the buttons except the top one. Sapnap debated leaving the second button open as well but eventually decided against it.

The walk to the school was fairly short, the morning breeze nipped at him and he regretted his choice to wear the thin material slightly but it was supposed to warm up later so it wasn't a major issue. In contrast to the roads which were packed with cars moving at snails pace, Sapnap was able to reach his destination rather fast. Especially because of the lack of bustling crowds going about their day. They wouldn't be out for another two hours. By then he'd be started and hopefully settling into his new teaching position.

Hopefully whoever he was paired with wasn't decades older than him and out of touch with society. It'd be nice is he was able to gain a couple of friends through the experience, no matter how nerve inducing it was.

Arriving at the front office and having to get them to alert the principal was just as terrifying as it had been when he came in to do the interview. Heart leaping and pounding with such intensity that he was afraid to speak in case he embarrassed himself. If things couldn't get any worse, an acidic taste lingered in the back of his throat, taunting him. The last thing Sapnap wanted to happen was for him to fetch into the principal's hand when she emerged from her office.

After what felt like centuries of waiting in purgatory but was only around two minutes in reality, the principal greeted him enthusiastically. She was an older woman who had been in charge ever since Sapnap was dragged all around the city checking out every school with Punz five years ago to ensure that when Purpled was old enough, they'd have found the best fit.

To her left side was a much younger woman, short and with faded pink hair that was now a pale baby pink colour. She offered him a friendly smile, instantly putting him at ease. This was probably who he'd be working with and the sense of dread and anticipation that had been looming over him all morning disappeared.

"Mr Armstrong," the principal smiled "it's nice to see you again."

"It's a pleasure to be here," Sapnap replied honestly.

The older woman featured to the unknown girl who only looked a couple of years older than him at most "this is Niki, you're going to be working with her in one of our first grade classes for the month."

"It's so nice to meet you," Niki grinned cheerfully "I'm sure we'll be a great team."

Her voice surprised him, softer than the satin brushing against his skin and sweeter than the fresh juice pumped directly from berries. Sapnap thought it was fitting though. If he wasn't borderline delirious from the previous nerves, he was fairly certain that there was a foreign lilt to it as well. Maybe somewhere European?

The principal dismissed the two young adults after informing Sapnap that Niki would take care of him for the day and get him set up. Once she was gone, Niki lead him down the hallway before stopping at the third door on the left of the hall towards the end. Obviously this was her classroom. Upon entering Sapnap wasn't surprised that this room belonged to her. Even though he'd just met Niki, the bright room filled with comforting pastels just seemed like the type of decoration she'd have.

"So you'll mainly just be shadowing me for the first two weeks," Niki began to explain "but some days I'll let you take the lead in activities like art and PE."

The idea of him teaching art to a bunch of hyperactive first graders nearly made him snort. Sapnap could just about create something better than stick figures so he would have to rely heavily on Pinterest and YouTube tutorials the night before.

"Any chance we can make art class a thing where we both teach it?" Sapnap asked hesitantly "I don't mind doing it but I'm not exactly the most artistically inclined."

Ever friendly Niki agreed on the condition that he did the PE lessons for the whole month because she "despised most sports and didn't have the energy or skill to teach it to five year olds."

So with their mutual agreement and a budding friendship, Sapnap and Niki set up the classroom for the day. Well more like Sapnap stood awkwardly like a lost puppy if Niki didn't give him an instruction for a while but they soon got into the rhythm of things as she showed him where everything belonged.

"Do you want to go up to the staff room and grab a coffee?" She suggested softly "my friends should be here by now and I can introduce you to them if you'd like."

Sapnap trusted Niki's taste in friends so he followed her up the flight of stairs to the staff room which was abandoned apart from a group of two girls and a guy chatting at the long, wooden table in the centre of the room. All of them cheered when Niki entered, shooting him perplexed but still inviting gazes. Thankfully they weren't old either, all of them appeared to be around Niki's age. So everything was already going a lot better than he'd expected.

"Hi guys," she giggled at their greeting "this is Sapnap, he's new here."

The guy with the fluffy brown hair and violet sweater perked up at that, lifting an eyebrow in surprise "he's new? So who did he replace - oh Niki please tell me Mrs Richardson finally retired."

Niki sighed "no she's still here, Sapnap's my assistant for the month."

The unknown boy slumped down in his seat "that sucks..I was hoping she'd finally left us but it's nice to have another guy around here."

Sapnap smiled brightly, hoping he could make some more friends "I'm so glad there's another guy too," he admitted "I was terrified that I'd be surrounded by Karens and old ladies all day."

"Well Mrs Richardson is both of those combined and ten times worse," the guy mumbled "but stick with us and you'll be fine! Oh I'm Karl by the way and this is-"

"Puffy," the girl with silvery blonde hair introduced herself "nice to meet you Sapnap."

He waved as the other girl with long brunette hair introduced herself as Hannah. Sapnap joined them at the table after Niki told him to sit while she made them coffee. They made small talk about some school gossip and getting to know each other before Karl noticed the black studs in his earlobes excitedly.

"No way! You have your ears pierced - they look sick!"

"Thanks," he chuckled "I only got them recently. My best friend Quackity wanted to get one of his pierced but didn't want to go alone so I went with him."

"No way, Quackity?" Karl's eyes lit up instantly "I know him too."

"No way," Sapnap echoed in disbelief "wait you're the Karl he always talks about."

Karl winced "good things?"

Sapnap smiled in reassurance "yeah dude. He's always going on about how funny you are."

Any trace of the nervousness he'd felt before arriving and meeting Niki and her friends completely vanished. The day flew by but it was very chill. He was mostly just assisting Niki with the classes and getting to know the names of all the children.

At lunch he'd overheard Purpled bragging to one of his friends with hair that was darker on one side that their cool new assistant was his uncle. A soft smile spread across his cheeks at how his tone was laced with nothing but admiration. Purpled was a good kid, they all knew that as well as one showing signs of being extremely gifted. Sapnap had heard it from Punz and Cardi but seeing his nephew confidently answering the hardest questions and getting them all right was something different end he couldn't have felt more proud.

When the school day ended, Sapnap and Niki let the children out one by one after they spotted their parents. He noticed the tall pink haired man he occasionally spared with at the gym collect the tallest boy in the class, Ranboo if Sapnap remembered correctly. Then another two boys with British accents who Sapnap recognised as some of Purpled's friends left with two men who had the same accent. The number of children dwindled down by the second and as Sapnap let the last girl out, he heard Niki softly ask Purpled who was picking him up.

"My uncle," Purpled told her with a beaming smile right as Sapnap interjected "I am."

Niki appeared confused for a moment before she realised "I had no idea he was your nephew."

Sapnap laughed "most people don't, my brother and I look very different."

Niki grinned politely "see you tomorrow Sapnap, have a good day."

"You too Niki," he replied as Purpled grasped his hand and started leading him out the door.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so nervous.

Feeling jittery and unable to concentrate on his work wasn't an uncommon or foreign experience for Dream. He often couldn't focus due to all the thoughts in his head that served as a distraction but today was different. Normally there'd be multiple separate thoughts whereas today they were all centered solely on one person.

Dream was really beginning to regret both himself and his friends allowing him to go on that date because the brunette man hadn't left his mind once. It didn't matter what he was trying to do, deep brown irises filled his mind and he could do nothing about it.

It had been foolish of him to believe that he could go on a date, live a somewhat normal life and be open to the possibility of meeting someone new. Because he'd found it. Found exactly what he'd dreamed of and got to hold his gaze for around half an hour before they were cruelly ripped apart by his phone ringing.

He always had to choose Tubbo though. Even if he didn't know the severity or how minor the incident was, he didn't get to pick and choose when to be a father. So as much as it crushed him to have to ditch the date that had been going to well, it was the only thing he could do.

Sapnap was a young guy, fresh out of college. Even if Dream told him that he had a kid and that's why his friend was ringing him saying there was an emergency, who was to say the guy would want to stick around. Dream didn't exactly have the easiest life and he was a few years older as well. The younger man wouldn't be prepared to deal with being in a relationship with someone who was a single parent.

So maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was forced to leave. Before he got overly attached. It let him focus on Tubbo, the reason he sacrificed so much but he did it willingly. He was the best person to unintentionally make his way into his life. And despite his heart telling him that Sapnap would never make him choose between them, he didn't want his child to feel like a burden to anyone so it was just easier to let himself be lonely for another couple of years. Surely if they were meant to be they'd find their way back to each other right?

Another thing he was rather relieved by is the fact that since their date and any potential chance at romance had been cut short, there was no way he could get his heart broken further. There'd be no sudden breakups leaving him sobbing his eyes out to George and Will at three in the morning while the kids slept. And neither him nor Tubbo would get attached to someone only for them to leave.

So as much as he yearned and ached to open up the app that had been left untouched since the night of the date over a week ago and to send Sapnap a message asking for a second chance, he knew it was probably better for the both of them if he just steered clear. Right?

Tubbo burst into the kitchen after having changed out of the clothes he wore to school since both he and Tommy managed to get themselves all dirty at lunch. The young boy with eyes eerily similar to Dream's beamed up at his dad and was practically bursting with energy.

"What do you want to do Tubs?" He asked gently, they hadn't been able to do much besides watch movies together recently while Tubbo was getting better.

The young boy considered it for a second before he grinned "can we make cookies?"

"I think we have the ingredients," Dream nodded and went to check the cupboards "ok, cookies it is."

Dream hoisted Tubbo up onto the counter top and grabbed the mini apron he kept for him, typing a knot around the back so the deep green fabric covered his clean clothes. Sensing that it could get rather messy Dream also put his on even though he normally wouldn't need to.

Whenever they baked, Dream would do most of the work to avoid a giant mess being made in their kitchen. So most of the time Tubbo handed him the ingredients when he asked him too and under Dream's careful supervision, was allowed to crack one egg.

As well as that Tubbo would lick the bowel completely clean but that wouldn't really work with cookies. However Dream didn't doubt that Tubbo would be sneaking little bits of cookie dough for himself to taste.

"Can you pass me the butter Tubs?" Dream asked gently as they began to make the dough.

The young boy eagerly grabbed the block of butter and passed it to his dad who took it swiftly. "We're going to need to soften it now so will you grab the saucepan for me."

Tubbo rummaged in the drawer under the hob until he retrieved the saucepan and Dream filled it with hot water. They unwrapped the fresh stick of butter from its shiny, golden wrapping.Placing the butter in a bowel suspended above the water, Dream let it soften for a couple of minutes.

Knowing that the bag of flour would be too heavy for Tubbo, Dream asked him to pass the measuring cup instead. Dream carefully watched the flour rise up to the required mark and just as he finished pouring Tubbo grabbed the significantly lighter bag of flour. Dream assumed he was just being helpful and going to place the bag back on the counter with the rest of the ingredients but was proved very wrong. Tubbo stuck his fist into the contents while Dream was removing the butter from the heat and turned around mischievously to his father.

Since he was focused and didn't realise what his child was planning, Dream was completely unaware of him approaching his bent over form silently. Just as Dream placed the softened butter aside and finished pouring the boiling water down the sink, Tubbo pounced, smearing flour across Dream's face before running away, giggling obnoxiously as he did so.

"Oh Tubbo," he sung as he pretended not to notice the small form peaking out from behind the sofa, watching to see if Dream was coming close to him.

And when he waited too long to check Dream's location, the older man picked up his son who was shrieking with laughter and placed him down on the couch, tickling him relentlessly for a couple of minutes before both of them were wheezing.

"Truce," Tubbo asked, surprising Dream but given Purpled's intelligence and Tommy's tendency to create wars in their little games, he wasn't as surprised that Tubbo knew that word.

"Ok little man," Dream hummed playfully "let's get back to the cookies yeah?"

They mixed the dry and wet ingredients finally and once that step was completed it was time to add the chocolate chips to their mixture. Dream picked Tubbo up gently so he could add the chocolate chips to the bowel and he gleefully dropped down handfuls until they had enough.

Eventually the dough was ready and the consistency looked good so Dream began to roll it out so it wasn't too thick or too thin. Tubbo ran to the bottom cupboard in the corner of the room, getting the shapes he had so he could make some heart shaped ones and give them to his friends the next day in school.

Once they were all cut into various novelty shapes and some regular cookie shapes, Dream placed them all carefully onto a baking tray and slid it into the warm preheated oven, putting a timer on his phone so he didn't accidentally forget about them and burn down their apartment.

Tubbo dragged him over to the couch again and got his soft red blanket, throwing it over the two of them as he scrolled through the channels on the tv. Dream let out a content sigh as Tubbo snuggled into his chest and he wrapped a protective arm around him.

As much as his heart ached, things were better this way.

[geminimoonbeamx]

Bucky Barnes x Plus size reader Fingerpainting

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: Cursing(as usaual, ya’ll know I gots a potty mouth from hell) and teetH ROTTING COTTON CANDY FLAVORED FLUFF. Daddy! Bucky has my whole heart.

Growing up, your household had been vibrant, drenched in color, music filling every nook and cranny. Your mother had been something of a free spirit; You’d been raised on Fleetwood Mac and Jimmi Hendrix, on dancing in circles and bubbling laughter. Now, as an adult you cherished those memories, they we’re such a big part of who you are. And as a mother yourself, you made sure the tradition had continued on.

Made sure your children grew up with that same magical wonder that you had.

It’s what Bucky had noticed about you first, that sparkle in your (y/c) eyes, the curiosity and mischievousness. Cat like, as he liked to refer to them. You we’re his little cat; playful and full of life. And yeah, you had a vicious set of claws, but mostly you liked to be stroked. Both figuratively and literally.

You had this way about you, one that was like sunshine. That bubbly laughter of your contagious, your dimpled smile blinding.

Falling completely fucking in love with you had been easy, natural. He instinctively sought your light and you were more then willing to share it with him, give it to him. Light him up from the inside in a way that made him get a little awestruck because he’d never thought that he’d ever find something like you. He’d accepted the frigidness that had consumed him and here you came, like an Indian summer. All plump curves and saccharine words and butterfly kisses.

And he assumed that it couldn’t get any better; to have a woman that truly deeply loved him. Despite everything… well, what could top that?

And then you’d gotten pregnant and proceeded to set his universe into technicolor chaos once more. He hadn’t even realized he could still have children, that that was still an option for him.

You gifted him with something he hadn’t even realize he’d been craving; his first child. A daughter.

Faye Rebecca Barnes.

Who had your eyes, same spark and everything. But his pretty little up turned nose and his thick, dark hair. She was a tiny hummingbird of a girl, as soon as she could walk she was off in all directions; and he followed close behind, like he always would. Where there was Faye’s chiming laughter, Bucky was close by. The bond that those two had…was something that you couldn’t even fathom sometimes. It was beautiful, to watch them. To know that you had helped to create something so pure.

…Two somethings so pure. Your stomach had never been flat; had always been plush and jiggly, but at the moment it strained out round and firmly, stretching your skin taught. Like some had stuck a basketball under your shirt.

They say pregnancy the second time around is easier. Fucking hah, who ever said that didn’t have a three year old darting around. But still- you tried to stay positive. Tried to focus more on the beautiful parts of pregnancy…even though the ugly, irritating ones came in spades. Oh, how you desperately fucking missed not having to pee every ten minutes.

Baby Barnes number two had made it a game to tap dance on your bladder.

It’s a stormy Wednesday afternoon, nothing particularly exciting or special going on: you’re sitting on the living room floor because its the only place you can seem o get comfortable with Faye, the large glass coffee table in front of you littered with oil pastes and colored pencils. Discarded papers blotches with swirls of color dispersed all over as the two of you drew idly. Bucky was laying on the couch behind you, the one that you lean against, reading the newspaper as Dumbo played on the flat screen in the background.

“Mommy what’s your favorite animal?” Faye inquires, not looking up from her paper and the long erratic strokes she’s making with a teal colored pencil. She was only three, and she’d seemed to inherit your “artistic nature” as Buck liked to call it.

“Seahorses…Or maybe flamingos. I cant decide” You scrunch your nose, focused on your own art. Sunsets and constellations stare back at you, you use your thumb to blend the smooth pastel colors into one hypnotic shade. “What’s yours, Honeybee?”

“Mermaids” Faye shrugs as though its obvious “I like pink elephants too”

From behind the newspaper, Bucky has a large grin on his face. Shaking his head a little at the two of you.

“Is that why we’ve been watching Dumbo on repeat?” He wonders, his gruff voice amused as he reads an article on ‘Stark Industries new Holliday Season Technology.’

“It’s my favorite” Faye nods. Favorite of the week, that is. Last week had been the Aristocats, the week before that Moana.

Bucky could literally sing “Your Welcome” from start to finish. Faye insisted her father be Maui for the upcoming Halloween because he had “pretty hair” just like him. You’d laughed HARD at that, but whispered to him that you wouldn’t mind seeing him only in a grass skirt, your tone had him grabbing at your plump ass.

“Really? It used to scare me a little bit. Especially the pink elephants on parade part. Super trippy if you ask me” You laugh, looking up from your page at your daughter. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy knot on the top of her head,

“I like 'em. I think they pretty” The three year old defends.

“It does make my head spin a little. I remember reading somethin’ about Walt Disney being all hopped up on dr-” Bucky stops himself, shooting Faye a look “-…Sugar, when he made a lot of these movies”

You laugh. It’s uncanny how similar it sounds to your daughters.

Bucky thinks that’s part of a reason the little girl has such a tight hold on his heart. Obviously, she was his child, and he would love her regardless of what she looked like. But the fact that she was a mini version of you was really what got him.

Faye laughed like sunshine too.

“Yeah I’ve heard that too! And it makes so much sense, this was a trip gone bad…or good I guess. Since you know, its a classic” You add.

“A trip to where, mommy?”

You snort and Bucky puts the paper down a little bit so that he can not only see your reaction, but your response. One of his eyebrows raise.

“Umm, to a place where only adults go. We’ll talk about it when your in college?” You test the waters. Even after years, this whole parenting thing was still touch and go to you.

You didn’t think you’d ever fully have it down.

Bucky’s little chortle from behind you makes you turn around and shoot him a glare to which his hand, the metal one, comes down and rubs your shoulder in apology; his cool fingers massaging the muscle near your neck in a way that had you leaning into him.

You still love the feeling of his hands on your skin, still makes goosebumps rise. You hope you never loose this feeing.

Faye, as usual, looses interest with what she’s doing before her movies even over.

“I’m bored” She whines dropping her pencil “I wanna go swing”

“No, Faye. It’s raining and you’ll not only get all muddy, but you’ll get sick” You try to explain to her the reason why your such a kill joy. Of course she doesn’t seem to hear any of it.

“Daddy?”

You breathe through your nose. Of course.

Bucky was what people call “the good parent”. What you said no to, she’d usually be able to convince her father into letting her do.

She really was manipulative for a three year old.

“Where do you think she gets that from?” Nat had taunted once, looking at you with laughing eyes and you’d shoved her shoulder.

“No baby, you’re moms right. You’ll get really sick and then you wont get to go play at Uncle Steves this weekend. And you’ve been so excited to see Noah” Bucky sides with you, trying to convince her with the promise of seeing her god brother, Steve and Sharon’s one year old son.

Faye huffs and pushes her paper away from her so hard that it, along with a few pastels, flies off the table. She then lets her head fall to the glass with a hard thunk, one that made Bucky wince.

“I’m so bored” She cries dramatically. You know how people talk about the terrible two’s? Yeah you we’re starting to think the troublesome threes were worse.

“Do you want to watch a different movie?”

“No”

“You could come help mama make lunch? Chicken fingers, you favorite?”

“No”

“We could go find Kit? I think she’s scared of the thunder, she’s probably under your bed-” Bucky offers, he knows how much Faye loves that cat.

“NO DADDY” Faye interrupts him with a snap.

“Faye Rebecca Barnes, you do not talk to any adults that way, much less your dad. You probably hurt his feelings” Your tone is not cutting, but authoritive . She knows better then that. She doesn’t look up but you hear her sniffle as she turns her head, facing away from you.

You purse your lips, before leaning your own head back, enough that it rests on Buckys thigh. Your eyes closed. Did you hate making her cry(even if you knew she was just faking?) Yes. But you also wanted to make sure she grew up to be a decent member of society that other people could stand. And that meant teaching her that she couldn’t snap to get her way.

Bucky knew that too…he also knew you had way more resolve then him. So instead of making it worse, he kept his mouth closed and let you handle it. Smart man, your husband.

…as the minutes ticked by, the silence a little overwhelming you realized that you too, were bored.

Making you empathize with your little one. Boredom, the death of creativity. It had always made you antsy, being idle. You feel Buck’s hand in your hair, the metal one, and you get a passing idea.

Remembering a time when your mother had let you and your siblings finger paint on her back…

“Hey, Faye” You call to her, and she mutters a small “What” without looking at you. She could pout with the best of them.

Something she’d inherited from both of you.

“Wanna do something fun?” Your voice is eager and it makes both Faye and Bucky give you almost identical looks.

“Like what?”

You just grin and manage to heft yourself off of the floor(with Bucky’s arm steadying you) and waddle out of the living room, towards your art closet.

“Where’s she goin?” Faye questions her father and he shrugs but sits up, anticipating your next move.

“I don’t know, but knowin’ your mother- it’ll be something messy” Bucky guesses as he looks down at Faye, taking a minute to bop her on her little bun. She beams up at him, grabbing at her hair.

“Hey!”

“Sorry pumpkin” He chuckles, before bopping her again. He’s ready for her when she launches herself into his lap.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings” Faye whispers against his scruffy cheek as he holds her.

“It’s okay” Bucky scratches her back lightly “I’m a big boy, I got over it”

“Okay, lets do this” You announce as you come back in the room and both of their heads turn to meet you. In your arms, resting on your stomach, is your plastic container full of washable paints and glitters. Body paint…

“Told you. Messy” Bucky tells Faye who squeals and makes grabby hands at you.

An hour later, you’ve managed to lay the news paper that Buck was reading out on the floor. Protecting your rugs from the splashes of paint. The three of you sit on the hardwood, Bucky has stripped off the hoodie he was wearing and now sits in just his white singlet, holding his metal arm steady and still as you Faye paint on the surface of it. Both of your fingers covered in multicolor paint as they swirl colors onto the sleek metal.

Faye draws purple clouds and orange seahorses(or at least she tries) and you work on an intricate, realistic looking array of wild flowers with a detailed sunflower in the middle of them.

He squirms a little as your fingers trace the edge where his steel shoulder meets warm flesh.

“Don’t move, daddy!” Faye barks at him and you giggle.

“Yeah, daddy” You stress the word, biting your lip and shooting him a devious little smirk that your daughter misses “Don’t move”

“It tickles!” He protests with an exasperated laugh, but stays still all the same. He cant tear his eyes off of you, so concentrated. Little specks of yellow paint smeared on your soft cheek, your belly swollen with his second baby. He reaches out with his flesh hand to rub at the bump tenderly.

You’d given him everything.

“I love you, sweets” He whispers, watching your short fingers delicately trace details into the flowers. You look up, breaking your concentration to smile at him.

“I love you too, Buck” You reach up and press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, then another to his chin. And finally laying a big one on his cheek.

When he feels another set, of smaller lips, press a quick peck to his other cheek his heart swells.

“Love you, daddy” Faye chirps, as she settles back down. “Momma do seahorses have three eyes or four?”

“Four” You answer with a smile.

-Okay I know this wasn’t smut but this was requested and I felt like I needed to write some Dad! Bucky because I love him so much and he’s such a cinnamon roll and wouldn’t he just make the best dad? I wanted their daughters name to be something old fashioned, but still interesting because this Readers an artist and I just think she’d want her children to have unique sounding names? Idk. Enjoy. Cry. Do what you must💘😂

[fuckyeahevanrwood]

Our May Cover Star Evan Rachel Wood On Feminism, Westworld And Singing Happy Songs

When celebrities bring their significant others on-set, it can go one of two ways: That person can become a de facto bodyguard, creating an impenetrable wall between the “famous” and the rest of us, or, as in the case of Evan Rachel Wood, that person can put said celeb at ease, allowing us to see him or her in a way we wouldn’t otherwise.

Wood, who arrived at the Los Angeles photo studio so unobtrusively that she’d already been in hair and makeup for 10 minutes by the time we realized she was there, brought along her new fiancé (and bandmate—more on that later), Zach Villa. Neither Wood nor Villa is a loud personality, but there was one moment, somewhere around the second look of the day, when the leather-clad Villa got pretty animated. “You...whoa. Just so cool. Rad.” He’d just had a look at Wood in the photographer’s monitor, and you could see his brain making the leap from the woman he knows and sees every day to the “star” in that photograph, and it was wonderful to see that he was in awe of and excited for her.  

Of course, Wood has had many such moments in the past year or so. She’s hardly an unknown (she has been acting since she was a child and got her first Golden Globe nomination at 17 for Thirteen), and her work as an android in HBO’s Westworld as well as her new-found outspokenness around issues of sexual violence, gender fluidity and sexuality have propelled her past indie-cool status and firmly onto the A-list. All of this has also finally moved her beyond being “that girl who dated Marilyn Manson when he was 36 and she was 19.”

That doesn’t mean, however, that she spends all day dodging selfie-crazed fans of the show, which returns for a second season in 2018. “I almost never get recognized because Dolores and I look so drastically different,” says the 29-year-old with some satisfaction. And it’s true: Wrapped in a menswear-style coat, her hair short and two-toned, Wood couldn’t be further from the long-haired, Victorian-dress-wearing character she plays onscreen.

As we chat on a leather sofa while the crew clears up after the shoot, I feel like I’m finally forming an impression of Wood that’s stronger than “she changed the photographer’s electro playlist for a Bowie-heavy option from her own phone.” She wasn’t shy, exactly, throughout the day, but she wasn’t extroverted either, heading for her phone or talking quietly to Villa between takes.

And here’s the surprising thing: For someone whose public persona can sometimes read a bit “serious” (which is not a bad thing, to be clear), Wood has a lightness and a sunniness to her. It reads almost like relief, like someone taking advantage of his or her freedom and running with it. For example: Wood told me she’d been waiting for years to wear a suit to an awards show, and the time felt “right” for this year’s Golden Globes (and the SAGs just after that).

“When you’re nominated for best actress, usually every-one is like, ‘What dress is she going to wear?’ and I just kind of wanted to surprise people and completely go the other route.” For Wood, it was less an anti-dress statement than a pro-sartorial-choice move. (Also: We’re still not over that Altuzarra tux.) And as for why the timing was right....

You say you were a changed person after season one of Westworld. “Dolores’ journey was about finding her true self and facing trauma and her past. That was a catalyst in me opening up about my experiences. [Wood is a rape survivor.] Playing her got me to face a lot. Life was imitating art. By the end of that show, I did feel like I was standing on firmer ground and that I had conquered certain fears. I was owning it in a different way. I was less afraid and less ashamed.”

It sometimes feels that as a woman, especially in this political climate, you’re never going to win by playing according to any set of rules, so you may as well do your own thing. “I just felt the gloves come off and I was done. You need to be vocal and be yourself and keep fighting.”

What effect has speaking so publicly about some pretty personal stuff had on your more private relationships? “I’ve been able to talk about it in a new way—from a place of strength rather than still kind of going through it. And there are still good days and bad days. That stuff never fully goes away. Even when the response is positive, it’s still overwhelming because people start opening up to you about their experiences and that’s really heavy. But it’s kind of like how I felt when I had my son, where it was like ‘All right, now you get to take your experiences and turn them into lessons and you get to kind of be there for him instead of just wallowing in your thing.’”

Has your son’s life changed with all of this new attention? “Bless him. He’s a gypsy by proxy because his parents are. He’s only three now, but he’s starting to understand. He hears one of my songs and he knows that that’s me, and he has seen me on TV and he’s starting to put the pieces together. His parents are very different. My ex-husband [actor Jamie Bell] is lovely and very British and straightedge, and then he’s got this glam-rock weirdo for a mom.”

What do you think he thinks of it all? “He said something to me that was so profound I wanted to put it on a T-shirt. I was just poking fun at him lovingly one day and I said, ‘You’re weird,’ and he said, ‘I’m not weird. I’m playing.’ And I was like, that’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not weird, I’m just playing. That’s my motto for life from now on.”

You’ve also recently relocated to Nashville. “L.A. is wonderful, and it has given me so many amazing things, but I’ve also got a lot of demons here. I was ready to break it up a little bit. I wanted to give my kid some grass to run around on. Again, he’s got two actor parents. I was like, ‘You don’t need to live in L.A. full-time. Let’s go somewhere a little “normal” for a bit.’”

You grew up in North Carolina, so obviously you have roots there, but I’m fascinated that you chose the South. If anywhere is deeply conformist, deeply traditional, it’s there. “That’s how I was raised too. But it’s not all like that. I am in a more progressive city. But there’s a part of me that also believes in going where you’re needed. And if I can be there, bringing something else to the table or engaging the conversation or speaking up when I need to speak up, then that’s also important. I don’t want to run scared. It’s definitely interesting at times, sure, but for the most part, it has been positive.”

When is it “interesting”? “There was one incident where I think somebody showed me a picture and he was comparing Hillary Clinton and Chelsea to Melania and Ivanka. He was like, ‘God, dodged a bullet, right?’ and laughing. I was like, ‘What are you talking about?’ He was like, ‘Which ones would you rather have? The hot ones or the ugly ones?’ and I was like, ‘I think I would rather be valued for what’s in my mind, especially if I were in that position, but it’s cool if what is important to you is that you want to have sex with them in your mind. That’s all on you, man, and that’s super-messed-up, but I’m just going to leave this conversation now.’ I had to walk away.”

If you could rearrange the world, start it all over, what would it look like? “Honestly, I don’t even really want to change people that much. I want to make sure everyone’s got access to affordable health care and things that help people stay alive and sane and taken care of on a base level. And then, seriously, I don’t care what you believe. Just let everyone live the way that they choose to live and let’s not try to force our ideals on everybody else.”

There’s a fatigue that comes with being combative all the time. “I also don’t want to be a hypocrite. If that’s what you believe, I so strongly disagree, but I’m not going to hate you for it. I’m not getting mad at you unless you’re harming somebody against their will or taking away rights or meddling in people’s lives.”

Do you ever feel like there are people who hate you for what you represent? “Some think that feminism is about hating men, and they hate you for that. I love men. I have a son—I actually want a world where we can all be equal and I’m not held back because of my gender. It’s not a movement against men! It sucks that the word ‘feminism’ is so tainted. Also, I’m in the LGBT community [Wood identifies as bisexual], and you’re told a lot that you’re going to hell and you’re a terrible person. People think that it’s a movement and we’re trying to destroy society. It’s intense.”

Changing gears a little…you’re in a band with your fiancé called Rebel and a Basketcase. “We’re a baby band. My first love was singing and music, and it still kind of is. I love acting, and it’s a deep, deep love. But music is like my religion. If I didn’t have music, I would die.”

And David Bowie is your high priest? “For real. I’m not a religious person, but music is so transcendent for me. It’s the closest I feel to whatever God is. That’s why it took me so long to actually do because I held it close. It’s so precious that I was like, ‘If I’m not Radiohead, I’m not doing it. If it’s not the best thing ever, I can’t.’ And I was like, ‘Stop, you love doing it, there’s a place for it and you can make positive, fun music and that’s okay.’”

The public knows a lot of intense, heavy stuff about you. But what else is there? Like, what do you read on the Internet, for instance? “I’m a psychology, self-help, spirituality geek, probably because I have had so many ups and downs in my own life. It’s something I just get super-nerdy about. I love learning about the mind and how that connects to our souls.”

What’s the coolest thing you’ve learned lately? “I was just having a conversation with somebody last night about alternate dimensions and how there’s a mirror version of you in another dimension. There are many versions of you, and there’s a theory that you can pop in and out of these dimensions. It’s so amusing. I love at least having the conversation, being a bit agnostic in that way.”

So what is the mirror version of you doing? “Who knows? This could be the mirror version of me for all I know. I could be just hopping back and forth through time. [Laughs] People reading this will think I’m crazy.”

But cool. “I think there’s heavy stuff around me because I have built a career out of heavy movies and pushing the boundaries in that way and doing things that make people go ‘Whoa, where were you when you did that scene? Do you want to talk about it?’ I guess I’m just finally in a place where I can be like, ‘Sure, what do you want to know?’ But that’s another reason the music that we make is really uplifting—because I do so much heavy stuff onscreen, if I had to also go onstage and sing about heartbreaking things and how terrible the world is, I would die.” [Laughs]

A lot of musicians say writing a happy song is way harder than writing a sad one. “It’s easier to focus on the bad stuff, you know, than to pull yourself up and sing about something nice. Our new single is called ‘Today,’ and it’s just a big battle cry about not letting the dark forces ruin your day. You make today and you make the changes, and as long as you’re here and you’re fighting, you’re going to be okay. I’m excited for people to hear that song. I think it’s a really good time for it.”

[dragonscanbeplantstoo]

Oil & Sky: echoes from the trash

Something You Like

Maeva rubs at an itch on her cheek, probably leaving charcoal behind, and returns to the sketch in her lap. She is pressing hard, too hard, wearing millimeters off her charcoal as she works on a bit of shading. Some people say the eyes are the most difficult thing to draw realistically, but Maeva disagrees. Elbows are in fact, the most difficult body part to capture. There is something about the way light falls on an elbow, the crease versus the vein versus the muscle, which is deeply improbable.  She scribbles out the curve she has been working on and tries another, cross-hatching this time in short, dark strokes that turn her knuckles white. She presses so hard that her vine of charcoal snaps, scattering dark dust all over the page.

“Maeva?”

She looks up from her work, and finds her photography professor sticking his head out the office door. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“Sorry about the wait,” he says, “come in.”

With a sigh, she closes her sketchbook and steps into the cramped room. Technical-looking paperbacks line the walls, their shiny coverings peeling away, and the spare spaces on the shelves are occupied by cameras and lenses and further gadgetry Maeva can’t identify. Everything is black though, and mildly hideous.  

She takes a seat in the chair adjacent to his desk while he shuffles through a few sheets of paper. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and she knows what’s coming.

“Maeva, I wanted to talk to you about your final project. Did you have any plans for it yet?”

“Yes.” Maeva says. As in, she is planning to wait until the last possible minute to photograph a few macro shots of sand. She can use them later for a painting.  

“Hm.” He nods, paging through his papers again. “I ask because I have some concerns about what you’ll be turning in. Your midterm compositions were a bit…lackluster.”

If one of her oil teachers had used the word ‘lackluster’ in front of her, Maeva very well might have had a quiet aneurysm. But that isn’t the case here. Professor Cairn’s opinion of her is immaterial, because she has no intention of ever picking up a camera again.

“What would you have me do differently?” She asks.

“There’s nothing technically wrong with these. But as an expressionist, I expect more creativity from you. These are boring and formulaic. You can be more dynamic.”

“I don’t think I can.” She says. “I don’t particularly enjoy photography.”

His eyebrows hike up, not because he doesn’t believe a student infamous for her rigidity could hate photography, but because she admitted it to his face.  

He smiles. “Alright, let’s unpack that. Maybe we can find a way to spark your interest. What is wrong with photography? It’s a very versatile and accessible art form.”

“It isn’t art.” Maeva says. “It’s regurgitation.”

“Regurgi…tation?” He frowns at the gallery wall opposite his bookshelves.

Maeva looks at it too. He has a mix of everything up there, a display of all the things one can do if they learn to click the correct buttons between camera and editing application. Some are simply representations, a crisp shot of a landscape or an ice cream cone. Maybe the colors are brightened, or the image composited into something surreal, the seams of the images invisible. Again, good editing. It’s all very skillful. It’s all very boring.  

“I don’t think photography captures the world in a way that makes it seem prettier. We’re just replicating what the eye sees in a given moment.”

Dr. Cairn nods. “Tell me what’s wrong with that? What we see will always go away, so what’s wrong with capturing the color of a memory, or the shape of something we found pretty to begin with?”

“Nothing at all.”

“How about you do that then? Don’t think of it as making something new, think of it as capturing a thought or vision.”

Maeva sighs. Other people can do that, fine. But why should she need a photograph of something pretty, when she can simply draw it exactly as she saw it? She saw a pretty flower in the market last week, a chrysanthemum, and now she has a perfect white-charcoal rendition of it, so perfect she might as well have pressed it between the pages of her sketchbook.

“I can just draw it.” She says

“But that won’t get you through my class.”

“Apparently not.” She says. “Again, what do you want me to do?”

He sighs, “I want you to present me with something that is unique, Maeva. I want you to tell me something with your piece.”

“I don’t say things in art. Art is not for saying things.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn, if you want to graduate. You are required to fulfill a three-hundred level photography requirement, and you have not done so yet.”

Maeva touches her temple, just lightly, with her middle finger. Of course she knows that, she’s heard it every term for the last two years—Ack courses, plaster, installation mediums—do more, or don’t pass. Do more, or the pile of acceptance letters to London and Dresden and Milan mean nothing. An acceptance to Paris would mean nothing. She returns her hand to her lap.

“I’ve completed every assignment to your guidelines.”

“You should know that ‘completion’ is not the standard at this school. Particularly for someone as obviously talented as you are.” Dr. Cairn laces his big-knuckled fingers together. “So, you have exactly six weeks to come up with something more, something that showcases your eye for color and light, something with movement and passion, or I will not pass you.”

“Okay.” Maeva glances out the window. “I still don’t know what to shoot to make that happen.”

Clearly frustrated, Dr. Cairn touches his own forehead, then hums. “I don’t know, Maeva, just…find something you like.”

Maeva is still chewing on that as she blinks against the sunlight outside. Her midterm compositions are full of things she likes. She just hadn’t liked taking photographs of them. It feels too easy, flat in the simplicity of adjusting the lens and pressing a button. Of editing her mistakes away. No struggle over the dimensionality of shading, or what color she needs to mix up for the lighting. No room to play with the image and make it more than what it is. She wishes she could ignore it. She wishes she could skip her next class and draw more elbows, but she’s missed theater too many times.

She can hear a piano before she even enters the music building, clanging out through an open window on the first floor. A headache threatens her temples, but the music has stopped by the time she gets inside, and the only sound in the dimly lit hallway is the shuffle and murmur of open classrooms. As she stashes her bag in one of the lemon-scented lockers, Maeva hears something new amidst the shuffle, something that makes her feel like someone has stuck a branding iron behind her ears.

“Music, Corin, music!”

“Oh, shit, sorry, sorry.”

Maeva turns her head before she can remind herself not to, and she is staring right at him. Corin isn’t looking back; he’s behind a music stand, sighing off into a corner of the room. He’s so full of good color. His skin is precisely umber, the same warm, orange-toned brown she has in her bag, and the sun is hitting him from the side, throwing bronze onto the high points of his face. It falls in dense bars across the sharp edges—cheekbones, brow bones, the corner of his jaw—and creates softer diffusions around his nose and mouth. He blinks, and she notices again that his eyes are a very different color than they had been that night. Blue, yes, but they are so much brighter now, a true cerulean without a hint of ashiness.

His professor barks a command, and there is the subtlest change in the light around his throat, breathing in without breathing out. Maeva should look away. She has the peculiar sense that if she doesn’t look away right now, she won’t be able to.

“Once, a lady was here; a lady sat in this garden, and she thought of love…”

It’s a beautiful voice, like all of the voices here. Big and round and full of interesting vibrations. He has a delicate way of moving to the music, and an indelicate look of bliss on his face as he sings the long lines of notes together. Subtle flexions of his smile muscles, a suddenly saucer-like shape to his eyes. He’s gesturing and singing to this classmate, that classmate, the professor, playing with them and with his lovely, flexible voice. Maeva doesn’t understand how the act of making sounds can so immediately increase his saturation, his vibrancy. She doesn’t like looking at it. She feels his cell phone number like a lead weight in her pocket. As if he knows, he looks up from his music, and catches her stare.  

“Her garden still looks the same, but,” Corin’s brows rise to his curls, creating the tiniest disturbance in his voice, “it’s a different year.”

Maeva’s shock rises up to meet his. She’s wide-eyed as long as he is, less than a second, before he breaks into a full-blown smile, a stage light aimed right at her face.

“Soon, the evening comes down,” he sings through it without missing a beat, “and paths where she used to wander whiten in the moonlight…”

Maeva glares at him, clutching her sketchbook over her chest. His smile only looks like that because his teeth are so contrasted against his skin. His eyes only look like pieces of a Monet sky because they are shining out from his black lashes. Stupid, pretty, color coordinated boy.

“Her garden still looks the same but,” Corin tilts his head at her, “yesterday is not today…”

The class applauds, startling Maeva out of her glare. She steps back, and Corin laughs. He laughs with fine lines under his eyes and a bubbly, metallic sound. Maeva can finally walk away. She breezes down the hallway, shaking her head as she goes. She keeps seeing the big smile, the glowing cheeks, and the eyes, the eyes, the eyes. No one would ever guess that Corin Olivier had been killing himself in the rain eight weeks ago.

And that, Maeva decides, is utterly terrifying.

[archiveacademics]

Tags, Terminology, and Tropes

So let’s talk tags.

No, not gang tags. Tags on fanfic. 

If you’ve interacted with fanfic, or even just fandom at large, you’ve likely experienced tags. Hell, if you’ve used Tumblr or Twitter or I think even Facebook at this point, you’ve experienced tags. Tagging is, by now, a digital way of life, a way to organize the chaos that is this giant cultural archive and project of capitalism that we call the internet.

So. Why are tags important?

I’m glad you asked, hypothetical reader! Tags are important for a number of reasons. For one, they allow others to find your fanfic. Whether you read on Tumblr, Wattpad, or AO3, there are thousands upon millions of stories to wade through and it can be hard to find exactly what you’re looking for. Hence, tags.

Fansplaining has a great episode called “Cataloging Fandom” where they discuss tags from an academic standpoint. If you’re into that sort of thing definitely check out that episode. Meanwhile, Tumblr user salt-of-the-AO3 has a great post explaining the who, what, when, where, and why of tagging. It’s a great starting point if you’re just learning about tags. They even have a list of tags to get you started, whether you’re writing something and want to post it or looking for something new to read.

Say, for instance, you want to read a story about Harry Potter. You type “Harry Potter” in the AO3 search bar. But wait!

You don’t have the time, much less the energy, to wade through over 240,000 stories. So maybe you decide to narrow it down a little. You still want to read Harry Potter, but maybe you want to focus on Draco Malfoy, because you’ve got a thing for bad boys.

Yeesh. That’s better, but still not great. So now you’ve got to decide: do you want to read a Draco love story or a Draco adventure? Since you’re a hypothetical construct and an extension of myself right now, you want to read a love story. Results for “Draco Malfoy, romance”?

Ok, that’s a bit more manageable, when compared to 240,000. But it’s still a lot to sort through. So we’ll give it one last shot. Who do you want Draco to be in love with? Not Harry (that would shoot our search results up through the roof again). Not Hermione, or Ginny. You’re looking for something to read, not trying to sort through thousands of hits. So let’s go with Lavender Brown. 

Eh, good enough. You’ve got it down to under 1,500 hits. From here you can either start sifting through the results to find something you like, or you can go even more down the rabbit hole and try another search by character and event. Draco and Lavender go to the Yule Ball. Draco and Lavender at a wedding. Draco and Lavender in a coffee shop AU...

The tags are your oyster, is what I’m saying. Or the world is in the tags. Or some clever reuse of a common phrase that replaces one of the words with “tags.” 

But Chris (you hypothetically ask) what the heck is an AU?

Ah, my dear sweet hypothetical reader, I’m so glad you asked that, because it brings us to the terminology part of the post.

To start with, a fanfic writer that goes by the name of Moonbeam has a great Fanfiction Terminology master post. It covers a lot more ground than I’m going to get into today, so if you’re very curious, it’s a good place to poke around and find out what things mean. There’s also an article by Aja Romano called “Canon, fanon, shipping and more: a glossary of the tricky terminology that makes up fan culture” that’s a really good starting point for this stuff. Thirdly, the podcast Fansplaining has an episode on this topic called “~fanspeak” you can listen to. Or you can just continue reading.

Now, back to AUs.

AU stands for alternate universe. An AU usually takes the characters of a story and puts them in a new setting. There are many popular types of AUs from coffee shop AUs to high school AUs to magical AUs to either a historical or a modern AU (depending on whether the story itself is modern or historical). An AU can also change the plot of a story, taking familiar characters and sending them down different narrative paths. What if someone didn’t die like they did in the canon? Or what if they did die at a critical point? Either change could send your characters down a wildly different narrative path.

So in your hypothetical search for a story, maybe you decide you want to see Draco Malfoy the barista fall in love with Lavender Brown the Instagram Influencer who comes to his shop everyday. Or maybe you want to read a story that takes place at Hogwarts where Lavender becomes obsessed with Draco instead of Ron. Either can be considered an AU.

Now, I used a word up there that may or may not be familiar to you, depending on how deeply you live in the world of fandom. 

Canon.

Canon is the original, the progenitor, the common ancestor from which all fanfic descends. Harry Potter in all it’s seven book glory is canon. As are all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And however many there are of Angel. And all the comics... What I’m saying is, canon is the original work that fanfic is based off of. It’s the official, some might say the “real” version, but there’s a bit a value judgement there, so I wouldn’t. Anyway, that’s canon.

(If you don’t already, you’ll get why this is funny in a minute.)

The word “ship,” in the fandom sense, is short for “relationship.” In the vaunted old days of the early internet and the X-Files fandom, fans who wanted Mulder and Scully to get together began to refer to themselves as “relationshippers” or “r’shippers”. Eventually, the term became shortened to simply “ship” and became both a noun and a verb. A ship is the pairing of characters you want to see together. To ship is to want a pair of characters to get together. 

In our hypothetical example, for instance, you ship Draco and Lavender. 

If you’re still a bit confused by the term, the podcast Fansplaining has a great article about it called “To Ship or Not to Ship,” and they also ran a survey that garnered over 16,000 responses which are gathered together and presented for your perusal here. And last but not least they produced two episodes called “The Shipping Question” and “The Shipping Answers.” 

Alright, I’m going to go through a couple more definitions as fast as I can because this post is getting long and I haven’t even gotten to tropes yet.

So, in no particular order I present...

Slash: A word used to denote a male/male pairing, original so called because of the “Kirk/Spock” fanfic of the Star Trek zine era. 

Fem Slash: Like slash, but with women. 

OTP, or One True Pairing: Your favored pairing in a fandom. 

OC, or Original Character: A character you introduce into a story. So maybe the new transfer student to Hogwarts or the new Starfleet lieutenant on the Enterprise. 

Headcanon: Your beliefs about the motivations of a character or potential plot points of a story that may or may not be supported by the canon (but are at least usually not actively disproved by canon).

Fluff: A fanfic that is short and sweet and not at all angsty. There’s is generally not much plot advancement but the stories are comforting and often domestic.

Crossover: Where characters from separate works are thrown together. For instance, I have a friend who writes Batman and One Piece cross over. 

Gen fic: A story without an overt romantic element. While pairings might happen they happen despite the story, not because of it. 

Filing off the serial numbers: When a fic writer scrubs their story of all recognizable copyright (names, places, vampires or wizards or whatever) in order to publish it. Think 50 Shades of Grey. 

Self insert: An original character that is obviously, consciously or not, based on the author. 

Mary Sue: A character who is “special.” The word has a pretty negative connotation these days. It’s usually a self insert character who is better and stronger and smarter than everyone around her and without whom the problem of the plot could never be solved. The line between what is or is not a Mary Sue (or Marty Sue/Gary Stu if the character is male) is pretty blurred these days, with trolls sometimes shouting that any female self insert character is a Mary Sue and thus obviously sucks. Elizabeth Minkel, of the Fansplaining podcast, wrote a great article about the issues of Mary Sue and the patriarchy and she and Flourish discussed those issues in an episode of the podcast.

There are so. Many. More. I could go on forever talking about different terms. But these are some of the big ones that I tend to throw into casual conversation, and, well, Google is your friend. If you don’t know the definition of something, look it up. I still have to do that sometimes. 

Now, let’s talk tropes!

TVtropes.com has a great explanation about what a trope is:

“A trope is a storytelling device or convention, a shortcut for describing situations the storyteller can reasonably assume the audience will recognize. Tropes are the means by which a story is told by anyone who has a story to tell...

Tropes are not the same thing as cliches. They may be brand new but seem trite and hackneyed; they may be thousands of years old but seem fresh and new. They are not bad, they are not good; tropes are tools that the creator of a work of art uses to express their ideas to the audience. It's pretty much impossible to create a story without tropes.“

Tropes in fanfic are fun. “Five Tropes Fanfic Readers Love (and One They Hate)” is a another survey run by the folks over at Fansplaining. You can read the article above or listen to the episode on the topic. They discuss the variety of different tropes that are either loved or hated by the more than 7,500 respondents to their survey. 

As TVtropes discusses, “Tropes are Tools.” They aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. They simply exist. Fanlore.com has a great list of different tropes. AU fic itself is a trope. And thus we’ve come full circle. 

Thanks for sticking with me this long, this post kind of got away from me. 

Make sure to tag your tropes, folks!

[latestnews2018-blog]

'The Handmaid's Tale' Lays Bare The Utter Hell Of Raising A Daughter In Gilead

New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/the-handmaids-tale-lays-bare-the-utter-hell-of-raising-a-daughter-in-gilead/

'The Handmaid's Tale' Lays Bare The Utter Hell Of Raising A Daughter In Gilead

No child is safe in Gilead. Well, more accurately, no girl child is safe in Gilead.

In Season 2′s penultimate episode of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” Serena (Yvonne Strahovski), June (Elisabeth Moss), Nick (Max Minghella) and Rita (Amanda Brugel) learn this with certainty. Eden (Sydney Sweeney), who has spent weeks on the edges of the show and of Gilead’s notice, makes the brash choice to run off with her Guardian lover. They are caught and dragged back, only to be punished with death. Nick pleads with her to save herself by lying, but instead Eden is true to herself and her faith to a fault. She refuses to renounce her “sin” ― being a teen girl in an oppressive society who wants both love and a baby ― and is killed because of it. This death, which the entire Waterford household is forced to witness, shakes every one of its members to her core.

We also see Emily (Alexis Bledel) placed with Commander Lawrence (Bradley Whitford, in an incredible guest starring role). The Commander is a fascinating character, a man who supposedly created the model for Gilead’s economy and the colonies, but who fills his home with art and books and music. He oscillates between potential ally and potential abuser, and we leave the episode still unsure which he will end up being.

Emma: Women are both the lifeblood and biggest threat to Gilead, and this episode of “The Handmaid’s Tale” made that very clear.

The episode, aptly titled “Postpartum,” both opens and closes on two women mothering a baby girl ― specifically, Serena and June mothering Nicole/Holly. Both women, in their own way, care deeply about this child, and we see how Gilead expects to regenerate its population and continue building its society. At the beginning, the tasks of mothering are separated: Serena mothers and June pumps. By the end, they’ve reached some sort of dark and twisty symbiosis, bound by the baby girl they both consider their own. For a season that started by focusing on the way women oppress each other, it feels like “The Handmaid’s Tale” Season 2 is hurtling toward its end driving home the message that no matter how complicit some women are in this society and how integral they are to sustaining it, it’s only the white powerful men who truly see any benefits. And there are some things that women will always turn to each other for.

What did you think when you realized that June’s baby had ended up back with the Waterfords?

Hulu

Laura: At first I thought it was a dream sequence, because of the dream-like way the scene was shot of Serena cradling the blue-eyed baby in the soft light. But I think they chose to shoot the scene that way so they could contrast it with the harsh, bleak scene of June pumping milk into a machine, staring hopelessly forward, like a cow being farmed.  

I think this episode really explores the difference between the natural bonds created among humans ― between mother and baby, for instance, or two teenagers in love ― and the unnatural bonds forced upon those humans by this cruel patriarchal dystopia they’re trapped inside. It’s not that a woman raising another woman’s child is necessarily a bad thing; adoption can be a beautiful, loving choice, of course. But for Serena, who is cruelly keeping June close enough to hear her baby’s cries but not close enough to hold or breastfeed her while Serena offers the baby an empty breast, it is a deeply cruel and selfish choice.

We see the agony on Serena’s face as she is unable to breastfeed the baby she so desperately wants to be hers, which almost made me feel empathy for her again. But it really drove home the fact that even when Gilead works as its supposed to, and the handmaid produces the child for the rich woman, it’s still not a sustainable model for a society. Serena still has to reckon with her own cruelty, the choices she made that helped to create this fucked up system in the first place, and she’s realizing the pain and frustration and desperation that come along with motherhood.  

As you said, Serena and June are now bound by the baby girl, and Serena finally realizes that she needs to allow June to breastfeed her for the sake of the child. But as we know from episodes past, these moments of tenderness and empathy never last long in the Waterford house.

Emma: You’re right, and as we’ve said before, there is no “redeeming” Serena. But she’s never been all bad or all good, and I like to believe that she has the capacity to grow (at least a bit). I also think that we’re seeing her shift her actions bit by bit ― not out of some desire to be kinder to the other women around her, but because the walls are closing in on her own access to power and safety, and her ability to protect those she loves, namely Nicole.

Hulu

But to talk about Serena’s shifting perspective, we need to talk about Eden. Eden, who we have alternately dismissed and been suspicious of in these chats. In this episode, she runs off with Guardian Isaac, incurring the wrath of Gilead’s judicial arm. It turns out that our worst instincts about Eden were all wrong. She’s not a spy or a snitch or an impediment to our heroes finding love. She’s a 15-year-old girl growing up in a hellscape, trying to understand God and her faith and her sexuality. There are few creatures Gileadean society, and our own society, are more fearful of than curious teenage girls.

Rita and Nick and Serena largely treat Eden as a nuisance, and even June only shows a few moments of compassion for the girl. (Reminder: Even though she’s Nick’s wife, Eden is most certainly a girl.) Fred hardly notices Eden’s existence, considering her a mere reward to Nick for his loyalty ― that is, until she threatens the Commander’s standing. When she does that, he’s terrified of her, specifically of her sexuality. To Serena, Eden is a “pious girl.” To Fred, she’s a “slut,” “a married woman swept up in her own selfish lust.” In reality, Eden is a young woman who simply wants “to make a real family,” and dares to imagine a world where she could pursue love and motherhood on her own terms. But this is Gilead, so instead her potential is cruelly extinguished. 

Hulu

Laura: I loved that line that June tells Eden in the kitchen ― “I think, in this place, you grab love wherever you find it.” Unfortunately, this advice ultimately leads to Eden’s downfall. It’s not the first time June has encouraged a woman to break the rules in Gilead and later seen her abused or tortured or murdered for her “transgressions.”

We see a lot more emotion out of Nick in this episode, finally. Eden becomes a real human to him when she admits to being in love with someone else, because he can finally relate to her. And I think, as you said, that the viewer has the same experience with Eden. She’s no longer a snake in the grass, as it were… she’s just an extremely pious teenager trying to navigate love and hormones.

Nick obviously cares about Eden because he tries to save her, at first advising her to lie and then offering, in what must have been a moment of desperation, to give her the baby she wants. But she’s already decided she doesn’t want to raise a baby in a loveless family. “Nick, I love Isaac and he loves me and we want to be together,” she says. “I don’t want to have your baby, I’m really sorry.”

Nick seems both relieved by her honesty and wracked with guilt for having been so icy to her throughout their (albeit forced) marriage that she is essentially willing to walk the plank to get away from him. “You don’t have to be sorry for that,” he says.

Of course, Gilead always finds new ways to introduce violence into the show, and here we see a weighted drowning, similar to what some societies have done to women who have been deemed “witches.” And judging from the reactions of Serena and Nick and June, it seems that this difficult scene may precipitate a turning point in the plot.

Emma: I completely agree. Nick, Rita, June and even Serena seem shaken to their core by Eden’s government-sanctioned murder. And honestly it’s a relief to see the plot moving forward, as we wrap up this season and head into Season 3. If this show is going to continue, we need new storylines and motivations introduced, rather than retreading the same ground over and over again.

Emily is another character who sees things changing for her in this episode. She is delivered by Aunt Lydia to her new posting ― Commander Lawrence’s home. Commander Lawrence, played by the brilliant Bradley Whitford, is an odd bird. According to Lydia, he’s an extremely important man, the architect of Gilead’s economy. By all accounts, he should be terrifying. And yet he seems far less attached to Gilead’s ideology than Commander Waterford. His house is filled with art and books. He responds to Lydia’s “Blessed be the fruit” with “Glory be.” And he seems to have a sarcastic rather than oppressive relationship with his Martha. He oscillates between totally creepy (“Have you healed properly?”) and totally intriguing (“Do you miss the classroom?”). The whole time I kept thinking: Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?

Either way, I think he’s going to be very important in Emily’s development and the development of the world of the show. How thrilling that we might finally get a male character whose values are as messy and compelling as Serena Joy’s.

Hulu

Laura: It’s so interesting how we assumed at first that he was a “good guy” because he seemed so worldly. A man with books and sculptures and paintings and maps all over his house ― whose Martha is comfortable enough with him to respond to his threat of a beating with “Try it, old man” ― must be some kind of savior-type, right?

But there’s a twist in the plot. His wife, who’s apparently living out some kind of “crazy woman in the attic” cliché, barges into Emily’s room and announces that not only is Commander Lawrence the architect of Gilead’s economy ― he came up with the idea of sending people to the Colonies, which are, essentially, concentration camps. “Real people are digging up that dirt, and it’s poison!” she says. Of course, Emily is well-acquainted with the reality of the colonies, having just been liberated from them.

We don’t know why this man chose Emily as his handmaid. She doesn’t either. “I’m wondering why such a brilliant and important man would take in such a shitty handmaid,” she tells Aunt Lydia. But we get the sense, as the two face off across the table sipping beers, that she may be a formidable match for Lawrence. They’re both intellectuals, both extremely feisty; neither buys into the premise of Gilead. Will she partner with him or will she kill him?

Emma: At this point, both scenarios feel equally likely. My gut tells me that he was a brilliant man who created Gilead in the abstract and now feels conflicted about its reality. Sometimes guilt is an effective motivator to do better.

To wrap up, I just want to touch on the quiet beauty of that final scene. After so much horror, we see Serena and June tap into that inexplicable bond you mentioned earlier in the chat. A common enemy can be helpful in uniting women, but a common desire to protect something (someone) might be even stronger. Serena’s eyes have finally been opened to what it really means to have a daughter in Gilead.

Laura: How nice! Serena finally lets her slave breastfeed her own baby. The man who created Gilead may finally be having some second thoughts. As June says when she’s handed a not-so-tasty-looking bran muffin: “Praise fucking be.”

To read more of HuffPost’s “Handmaid’s Tale” coverage, head here.

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[mysteryshelf]

AUTHOR INTERVIEW - Brooks Arthur Wachtel

  DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by the author. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

About the Book:

Lady Sherlock: Circle of the Smiling Dead, chronicles the adventures of Lady Natasha “Tasha” Dorrington,  a fast-thinking, hard-fighting and very sensual leading lady.  The story takes the reader from fog-bound Edwardian London to a remote island in Scotland, where a terrified man is taunted by the power of a thousand year curse closing upon him.

Tasha finds herself embroiled in a much larger game.  She has been lured to the island to play a life and death contest with Deirdre, the brilliant leader of an ancient and sinister cult who plots to plunge the world into war.    The prize  between these powerful adversaries is no less than civilization itself – and the life of Tasha’s daughter, held hostage by the cult.

Purchase Links:

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  Interview with the Author:

What initially got you interested in writing?

  I have always been a story-teller. It is simply part of me and always has been.  In elementary school I wrote and performed in backyard plays.  In Jr. High School I was put, without requesting it, into a typing class… let’s just say, it turned out to be exceedingly useful in my future career.  When I was a student at Hollywood High School, I wrote a 45 minute Sherlock Holmes spoof which my student film group shot that summer at world famous The Magic Castle.

  The Magic Castle would become a very important part of my life.  As I wasn’t yet driving when I did my high-school film there (the first film ever shot at the Castle), my parents would be my transportation.  My folks fell in love with the place and became non-magician members.   I would gain entrance – what a thrill, attending this usually over-21 club and soon fell in love with magic.  And after much study,  became a magician member.  I have met so many wonderful people there both personally and professionally.   My life would not have been the same without my connection to this wonderful place. When I started working in television, writing became how I made a living.  While there are certainly stresses and frustrations, what a ​fun ride it has been.  However, after three decades of writing television scripts,  I wanted to try something new.

  I decided to try my hand at writing a novel.  It was a new challenge and exciting… and, unlike every one of my work-for-hire television assignments – this was mine!

  What genres do you write in?

  It might be easier to decide which ones I don’t.   In television,  I was lucky not to get pigeon-holed.   In fiction-television I wrote adventure, historical adventure, sci-fi, fantasy, comedy-adventure, comedy and pre-school.… I wrote them all.

​

And then there was non-fiction.   That was like an entire second career.  After getting my feet wet writing and producing episodes of documentaries for various History Channel series, my oft-times co-writer and producing partner, Cynthia Harrison and animator Jason McKinley were able to launch our own series,  DogFights.   It was a ground-breaking series about air-combat that put the viewer right in the cockpit as we recreated some of history’s most exciting air combats.  The premier episode – really a two-hour special that served as a back-door pilot – was the highest rated military themed show the network had ever had up to that point.   When they re-ran it a few days later, it did even better.  We were on our way to a series.

  I’ve always had a love of history (and have incorporated that into my non-fiction work as well) so it was a thrill putting that knowledge and interest to work in these documentary shows.  Perhaps I got that fascination as a child.  My father was a career Naval aviator, so that kind of upbringing is deeply associated with the past and left its mark on me.

  Most recently, I worked with Cynthia Harrison again on Silver Tsunami,  an award-winning ​documentary about the upcoming demographic challenge of the aging Baby Boom generation. The film is just finishing up its festival circuit and it will be available for download and streaming shortly.

​

My premier novel, Lady Sherlock: Circle of the Smiling Dead combines many of my favorite interests; strong female characters, my love of history, especially the late-Victorian-Edwardian era, Sherlock Holmes, and – growing up a military-brat (or more properly, Naval Dependent) – gave me an appreciation of ships, sea-power and its place in history.

  I decided to combine these interests; history, naval, the supernatural, Holmes, powerful female characters, into one story.

  Reaching back into history (yes, that love of history again), I found the perfect time, place and circumstances to use as a jumping off place.  I started with the revolutionary battleship,  H.M.S. Dreadnought and the  naval race and political collision between Britain and Germany which that ship help set in motion.  But, as I said, that was just the launch point for a tale that weaves between the actual past and the fantastic. I thought that, making my main character a very capable, confident woman – in a  particularly chauvinistic era would be fun and offer story and character opportunities that a male lead would not.  There would be so many circumstances and attitudes which would simply not exist for a man of that era that she would have to overcome.  She’s a character equally skilled with women’s rights – and lefts.  There’s a lot of humor in the book and much of it is the collision between a witty, smart woman who will not easily tolerate chauvinistic attitudes.

  What drew you to writing these specific genres?

  I have had a love of history and the fantastic as long as I can remember.  I was also a big comic-book reader.  That paid off when I started writing animation series for both the Marvel and DC franchises.   But as to what drew me… in the beginning of my career what motivated me was getting the job on any show I was able to pitch.  Successful television writers have to be chameleons.   But I had an affinity for both hard action and comedy so I was able to slide from one genre to another.

  Getting into novels was a very different direction.   Before Lady Sherlock was a novel, it was a screenplay  that never sold—alas—but  landed me many television (and screenplay) assignments. When I reread it several years later, I felt it was too good a story to languish in a drawer and only be seen by a few producers and story-editors. As I reacquainted myself with the script, I felt it had the makings of a novel. I’ve been writing scripts for decades and was looking for something new. Little did I know what vast changes lay ahead…

  How did you break into the field?

  I had been shooting student-films ever since my teens.  I also had the good fortune to attend Hollywood High School which ran a university style theatre-arts department.  The training would serve me well for years to come.  Shortly after college I wrote and directed a feature; sort of a period gothic-ghost story.  And then I made a career transition from feature-film, writer-director, to part-time, all-night, answering service operator (the pre-voice mail, human job of answering people’s phones and writing down a message for them).

  Not wanting this to be the apex of my career, I started writing spec-scripts (a writing sample which may never be bought or produced, but gives those who can hire you an idea of your talent).   One of them got me a life-changing interview which plunged me into the world of animation.

  My first writing job in the field was an animated script I co-wrote for Filmation’s Ghostbusters.   I had interviewed with an executive at Filmation to write an animated feature.  The exec, Robby London, sent my material to Arthur Nadel who was the executive handling the writing on the studio’s television series.  He invited me to pitch for Ghostbusters which I did with Tom Bagen, my co-writer at the time.

  I did more shows for Filmation.  Then Robby London moved over to Dic Studios and called me, letting me know they had a slate of shows looking for writers.  I pitched to Dinosaucers and made several sales.   Suddenly I was a working animation scribe…  and still am.

  I eventually moved into some live-action and, thanks to my friend Richard Mueller who recommended me to a company he was writing for, into documentaries.  ​The film and television industry is very much a relationship business and I am very grateful for the people who have extended a helping hand.  I try to do the same whenever I can.

  How I broke into novels – or, more specifically, got a publisher, was one of those “being in the right place at the right time” moments.  Another amazing writer and good friend of mine,  Steven L. Sears, introduced me to Peter Wacks, who was working with WordFire Press, over lunch at the Magic Castle (obviously a very important meeting spot in my life and world).  I was asking Peter about self-publishing and he offered to take a look at my manuscript.  A few months later, at another Magic Castle lunch, he offered to publish the book.  I was stunned.  Had I not been sitting down I would have ended up on the floor.  Working with Kevin J. Anderson and the crew at WordFire Press, Lady Sherlock – with a wonderful layout that harkens back to its Edwardian setting – was released November 1, 2016.

  I was also exceedingly fortunate to work with a very astute, understanding and talented editor, Shari Goodhartz, who guided, prodded and encouraged me tremendously.

  What do you want readers to take away from reading your works?

  Well, I hope readers enjoy my writing, have fun, suspense, laughs, fear and, of course, that my writing for the screen or print, inspires some thoughts and questions about “the human condition.

  What do you find most rewarding about writing?

  A good review and a check that clears…  Just kidding.  Really, having someone truly appreciate the world I created in the rare leisure moments we all seem to have these days.

  What do you find most challenging about writing?

  The challenge is the same for any kind of writing; sitting down to write.   Then, as the saying goes; Write.  Re-write.  Right.

  What advice would you give to people wanting to enter the field?

  Since most of my career has been in television, let me comment on that.  Passion for writing and knowing your craft is a given.   That’s the art side of your craft, getting the early jobs and maintaining a career is the business side.   It’s tougher.  After all, it is called show-BUSINESS.

  To have a career in film and television, you have to be in a location where you can meet the people who can hire or recommend you.   For me that means Los Angeles.

  Once here, attend film-festivals, join organizations, do anything you can that allows you to meet the people higher up on the ladder.  Once you meet them,  find the fine line between being assertive and entering stalker territory.  Have good samples to present, as perfect as you can make them.  You only have one chance to make a first impression.

When you land the gig, take it seriously.  Remember your job is to make life easier for the person who hired you.   That means get your script in on time, with the right page count and on model for the show you are writing.  If you are slipping between different genres or types of shows, knowing what works in that universe is vital.  As a TV writer you have to be a chameleon.  In animation I would go from a angst-ridden, non-stop action show like X-Men one week to a pre-school and very gentle Clifford the Big Red Dog the next.  You have to be flexible and fit the show you are working on.   If the story-editor or producer doesn’t have to do much work on your script, they will look very pleasantly at giving you another assignment or recommending you.   If your script is late, needs vast re-writes and causes your boss to pull an all-nighter fixing it, then your phone is not going to ring with another assignment.

Be prepared for “notes.”   In TV and film you get notes – LOTS of notes from lots of people.  They are sometimes pointless, occasionally story-shredding and, as they come from different sources, disturbingly contradictory.

And they cannot be ignored.

You have to pick your battles.  Make the simple changes work.  Save the conferences for notes that would unravel the entire story.   Fortunately, those are rare.  There’s a saying that the first draft belongs to the writer and after that your job is to save the script.

All that drama was refreshingly absent from the novel process.  My editor and I discussed the story, WordFire Press gave notes (and good ones), but it was vastly different from television.  I could use the ones I felt useful to improve the story and not go through convulsions trying to twist the story to fit bad notes – of which there were none – into the final piece.   It is ​ wonderfully liberating. Is there anything else besides writing you think people would find interesting about you?

  Writing is how I make my living, however I teach a screenwriting course at the UCLA Extension School (having just finished my eleventh year).  Or as I explain, I try to discourage eager young minds from becoming my competition (or if they get ahead in the business, they better pay back that “A” and hire me!  😉

Seriously, I love teaching and have been blessed with some wonderful students.  Teaching writing gets me back in touch with the fundamentals of the craft.   I sometimes feel I am learning as much as my students.

I am also on the Steering Committee of the Animation Writer’s Caucus of the Writer’s Guild of America, the Hollywood High School Alumni board and the membership committee of the Magic Castle. On a less frequent basis, I also utilize my skill set as a photographer and graphic artist. Years ago I did story-boards, mostly for commercials and live-action films (my first paid job in entertainment was right out of high school when I did story-boards for the Star Trek animated series).  I love performing magic and, while I have done stage-shows, my main arena is close-up magic with a deck of cards.

​

What are the best ways to connect with you, or find out more about your work?

I have a FaceBook page and there is also a page for “Lady Sherlock.”

Keep an eye out for my Twitter account, coming soon to a computer or mobile device near you.

Lady Sherlock Blog:  

http://ladysherlocknovel.blogspot.com/

Lady Sherlock FaceBook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/TheLadySherlock/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

Lady Sherlock FaceBook Fan created page:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/321693048210287/

Lady Sherlock Youtube promotional video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o39owXZHrRs

    About the Author:

Lady Sherlock: Circle of the Smiling Dead may be Brooks Wachtel’s first novel, but he is no stranger to crafting compelling stories, he is an Emmy Award-winning writer with a long resume in television and film.

  Mr. Wachtel spent his youth as a “Navy Brat” traveling the world. While attending Hollywood High and in college he produced several student films. One, a forty-five minute Sherlock Holmes spoof was the first film ever shot at Hollywood’s famed “Magic Castle.” Wachtel has written and produced many documentaries for the History Channel, including co-creating , executive producing  and co-writing many episodes of the hit series DogFights. Wachtel also wrote and co-produced an independent documentary feature illustrating the history of his famous alma-mater, Hollywood High School All rights and royalties were donated to Hollywood High to help fill the school’s scholarship.

In addition, Wachtel has written more than 100 produced episodes of television fiction- with shows as diverse as Fox’s live-action Young Hercules (starring Ryan Gosling), to animated hits like PBS’ Liberty’s Kids, Tutenstein, Heavy Gear, Spider-Man, X-Men, Robo-Cop and Beast Machines: Transformers. For younger viewers, he has penned episodes of the pre-school hit, Clifford the Big Red Dog.  Wachtel’s episode, “I Did it My Way,” for Tutenstein won an Emmy Award.

Wachtel serves on the Steering Committee of the Animation Writers Caucus of the Writers Guild, as well as teaching screenwriting at UCLA Extension. He is a long-time magician member of Hollywood’s Magic Caste.

He has combined his love of strong-female characters, magic, history, the fantastic and high-adventure in his first novel, Lady Sherlock: Circle of the Smiling Dead, published in November 2016.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW – Brooks Arthur Wachtel was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf