#Greg is hard to read

[prideenvylovehate]

a small detail but

i think it's cute how after their bathroom fight is over they're last seen with their stickers in hand. tom was holding tight to them the whole time— greg, at some point in the slapping session, let them fall, but he picks them right up again. stares at it. oh the symbolism.

[tomwambsgans]

tom's straightguysona was constructed by looking to the emphasis of exclusive heterosexuality without necessarily macho masculinity in 40s-modern middle america as well as academia, particularly the excusable effeminacy granted to men in the upper classes due to it simply being a mark of man being civilized, which is perfectly fine so long as you openly lament the loss of true masculinity. and greg's straightguysona was constructed by listening to weezer in middle and high school

[hontou-baka]

god even just READING the messages from my ex before replying is SO DRAINING

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

The thing about vigilante is as much as I want like all of them but Adrian and Greg to be used more i do think they shouldn't ever be redesigned because you know theres a new vigilante every 5-10 years and it shows in their designs and I just think thats fun. Like Patricia is clearly a 90s character, Justin has that faux military thing that was big in the early 2000s, Dorians Sleek like a late 2000s character, Donny has that more obviously homemade look that was big in the late 2010s. Like you know. Its fun.

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

i want to say this because it left me in stitches

i felt the sort of need to write, didn't feel like writing for my original thing, and i want to rethink the plot/lore of the fic so it's less based on stranger things. the attachment to it completely kills it for me. i got into the magnus archives because i was hoping to find the right inspiration, currently hoping i find other good horror. anyway, not important beyond my feeling of having to update on this

and i dug deep into google docs wondering if there were any things i wrote or started writing that could help

i, apparently, had this isbs drabble doc? that was entirely ideas for writing. i wrote a little on one, but it's too weak on the ground and i never finished it

one of the ideas involved the premise that yuki is calm, and ergo capable of mediating. like, he ends up allying with hyunwoo and isol because i liked those three as a group, still do albeit differently. and he'd help make them fight less

i'm gonna be real with you

i don't think i understood yuki back then at all

[threewaysdivided]

awwww 😭😭😭😭

Did you write a review on the legendary teen Titans series? (Aka what young Justice could have become if they weren't overly ambitious)

What's your opinion on Paul Dini as a writer?

(Follow up to these two previous asks)

Sorry nonnie! 😅

It seems that we both tripped down a rabbit hole of doughnuts.

I assume you’re talking about the Teen Titans 2003 Animated TV Series?  In that case, you might be thinking of another user – I haven’t personally written any reviews for it.  I do have a lot of fond feelings towards the show, though; it was my first real introduction to DC Comics alongside the Justice League/ JLU animated series.  My Tumblr has a Teen Titans tag where I share art, meta etc. and I do have some thoughts about specific plots or narrative elements – you might also see me make occasional reference to it as an example on some posts in the writing advice tag.

Just for the sake of expectation management, I should explain that my Tumblr isn’t really a traditional “review blog”.  And yes, I know that probably sounds a bit crazy considering the frankly unhinged amount of YJ analysis I’ve written, especially since I’ve been blogging less about other stories in the last year. Burnout, what can you do? 

Really I’m more of a writing/ story-analysis blog.  Sometimes I might write a semi-review style post where I try to break down and articulate a particular technique/ element/ execution/ implication of a narrative in order to understand what it’s doing well or why something isn’t working.  As I said in the very first Frustrations with YJ essay, I think storytelling is fundamentally about communication and understanding.  I got into fandom as a fan-reader turned fan-writer (AO3 wink wink), and before that I worked as a casual English tutor.  I want to learn from the ways different narratives succeeded or failed at communicating their stories within the restrictions of their medium(s) so that I can better find, discuss and even tell stories myself. 

Because of that, I’m also a big proponent of the Death of the Author approach to media analysis.  Let me copy the definition over from that first essay real quick:

DEATH OF THE AUTHOR This theory posits that, because commercial art is created to be consumed, not just created, the audience’s interpretations of a work should be considered as just valid as the creator’s.  The work must stand on its own and creators cannot micro-manage their audience’s response to it. 1.  A creator’s intentions and biographical facts (political stances, religion, etc) should hold no special weight in determining the validity of an interpretation. 2.  Save for re-releases/reboots or new entries, the creator cannot and should not attempt to retroactively insert information or interpretations that were not present in the original text.

I generally don’t look too deeply into or follow the specific people behind (non-fan) works.  This isn’t always the case – if I like a specific author’s style I might look up their body of work to read more; some stories are clearly rooted in their creators’ specific opinions or experiences, which makes for interesting context; and sometimes I like to learn about the behind-the-scenes methods/techniques/production woes of a bringing a specific story to life – but mostly I put the priority on what I can learn from the final product.

As I’ve said before, commercial storytelling is the result of more than just one person.  Under the right conditions I think a rank amateur or complete hack could produce something amazing and, if faced with enough production headaches, a usually-excellent creator could end up outputting utter drek although I expect that drek would at least be creatively interesting.

The questions that interest me more are: what was this narrative trying to communicate?  what techniques were used/ creative choices were made?  how well did it succeed?  could a different approach have been used? and, what restrictions/limitations/priorities could have led to the final creative decisions?  To me, information on a creator’s circumstances provide context for narrative analysis.  Since I generally don’t know them I try not to postulate their actual intent too much, only the potential intent suggested by the story.

SO WHAT THE HECK WAS I DOING WITH YJ, THEN? What happened with Young Justice is actually an outlier for me in both regards because of how baffling flawed the series ended up being.  Back in the pre-revival days I paid a lot of attention to the textual canon of Season 1 because I had started writing a fanfic based on it and wanted to do the story justice (heh).  The result was I went into the later seasons with a lot more awareness of the canonical details and storytelling techniques – and (like I said in the final Invasion case-study) I ended up being blindsided by how instinctively bored and annoyed I became just a short way into an attempted Season 2 rewatch, despite the fact that I was actively trying to study it. 

The reason I kept coming back with more and more posts is that I never felt like I had successfully grasped or articulated why I had such a strong and unexpected negative reaction.  I think it’s a similar impulse to what Dan Olson cited as making the Nostalgia Critic’s Parody of The Wall so weirdly compelling: there's a confusing contradiction between the level of work required to implement the sheer amount of stuff that Young Justice tries to include, and the absolute thoughtlessness of how sloppily that stuff was actually executed. A multi-season, multimedia story like Young Justice is a long-term project: there are too many layers of production involved for the end result to be made in a brief flash of impulse or accident. It needs some sort of sustained creative motivation to drive it… but I could never find a coherent creative intent that would satisfyingly explain the decisions on display.  Never before or since have I seen such a promising launch be followed by sequels so fatally flawed as to strip away every component of the original’s creative identity.  There’s a reason I subtitled that masterpost A Massive Failure of Narrative.

This is also why I went after lead-showrunner Greg Weisman a bit, despite not usually doing that.  The choice to exclude (or consciously excise) over 70% of the critical narrative substance and sequester it away in non-textual social-media /ask-blog retcons means that you cannot escape engaging with Weisman when trying to engage with the later seasons at any level of depth.  As a Death of the Author proponent this ticked me off just on-its-face, but it also meant that he and those seasons are inseparably intertwined.  Regardless of whether it was a conscious choice arising from his sense of creative entitlement, or simply a case of narrative incompetence self-selecting for a primary audience with a high tolerance for media-illiteracy Nigerian Prince Email Scam-style, the end-result is the same: Weisman gouged holes his narrative and left it to suffocate while he sucked up all the oxygen in the room.   Then, later, as I encountered people from other fandoms whose narratives had been similarly decimated by Weisman, it became impossible to ignore how inseparable his personal flaws are from those narrative failures.  As I alluded to in the last ask, you can separate the original seven Harry Potter texts from their author: Joanne Rowling and her politics could evaporate tomorrow and it wouldn’t change people’s ability to enjoy the story as a standalone work (in fact, the absence of her modern politics might make some of the more unpalatable flaws easier to accept as honest oversights rather than ominous foreshadowing).  Meanwhile, Young Justice is such a disaster because the later seasons stop being about the original story and increasingly become about Greg: his failures at basic storytelling, his disinterested misunderstanding of his own characters, his weird fixations, his patterns of reactionary prejudice, casual double-standards, deeply disturbing attitudes about consent and power, and a self-righteous entitlement that resents being held accountable.  Unlike Harry Potter, you can’t put Young Justice S2+ in a bubble. The problem at the root of every other problem with Young Justice is that it doesn’t have an actual narrative... and in the absence of a coherent central narrative, the text itself has become the story of Greg Weisman's terrible creative choices. His self-indulgent proclivities pervade every step of the later seasons' broken theming, bad pacing, warped characterisation, contradictory lore, intra-textual hypocrisies, over-stuffed cast and weird fanservice: baked-in at a level that cannot be ignored or rationalised away.

It makes me empathise a lot with how Hbomberguy said he felt on discovering the recent James Somerton stuff: it’s not fun to stumble down a rabbit hole of learning that a prominent figure in one of your communities is sucking up air via association with work from their less-credited colleagues, then using that air to present themselves as an ally, dominate the narrative and delegitimise valid criticism, all while spreading their own prejudiced agendas, refusing to change their behaviour and continuing to profit.  That’s why I felt the need to explicitly point out some of the clearer patterns of reactionary bigotry and hypocritical non-apologies in Weisman’s work – I wanted to make sure the evidence was at least available somewhere outside of Weisman’s carefully-filtered reputation-protecting PR statements.  People put pieces of their lives into communicating something that will hopefully be worth the pieces of life their audiences invest in return -  I find the idea of someone exploiting that trust for gain to be deeply disgusting.

Now, with that exceptionally-overlong context provided: Paul Dini. 

The disappointing but predictable answer is that I don’t really have an opinion on him as a writer.  Having looked up his credits, I recognise a lot of works that I personally enjoyed (including the cancelled-after-one-season Tower Prep).

I really like Batman: The Animated Series, both for the human element it brought to heroism and the tone it set for the following DCAU (colloquially Timm-verse) generation of animated series.  Justice League was one of my first introductions to the main DC roster, so that set a lot of my core understanding of their characters.  I find Harley Quinn, especially her early B:TAS/ DCAU story-iterations, to be compelling in a way that’s equal parts fun and tragic.  There are some parts of the DCAU that I find a bit silly (a couple of background ‘ships that make me go whaa?) but I think I was really lucky to grow up during a time when the DCAU and second-order series inspired by its tone and storytelling ethos (e.g. Teen Titans 2003) was the childhood DC experience for kids my age.

That said, I don’t know enough about the story behind the works in Dini’s credits to feel confident in speaking about him as a writer.  Just looking at his resume, he certainly seems like a passionate and prolific creator who did a lot of very influential work.  At the same time, however, I don’t know how much of that was Dini himself, how much was his frequent co-creator, Bruce Timm, and how much his works may have been adulterated by the influence of other, less-visible members of the production and editorial teams who worked alongside him.  It can be convenient to elevate one or two prominent members to Great Man status as an easy shorthand for discussing works they’ve been involved with, but that can come with the risk of crediting or platforming the wrong people through mis-attribution or just plain projection. 

I’ve learned my lesson on blind-lionisation after being thoroughly let down by all the Weisman nonsense, the same way others have learned from being let down by creators they previously idolised (Supergeekmike did a really good video covering this which also includes discussions of Death of the Author and Authorial Intent).  Without doing proper research into and comparisons of Dini’s work, I wouldn’t feel confident making an assertion about his personal skills as a creator.  I greatly enjoy many of the stories he’s been credited on, and can recognise the influence those stories had in shaping a generation of DC fans (and writers)… but while I’m happy to talk about the writing of those stories, it feels a little irresponsible of me to talk to the character or intent of a real person without knowing more about them.  I’m not making that mistake again.

In the meantime though, I do want to talk more about actual writing.  I’ve been taking it easier this year lockdown and job burnouts finally caught up to me and it suuucks, man but I'm hoping to pick back up in 2024.  I want to finally get back to working on my main fanfic so I can share the companion meta without spoiling people.  I have thoughts about some possible meta-textual metaphors in Across the Spider-verse.  I might do a case-study piece exploring why the years-long timeskip in Arcane Season 1 worked really well while others haven’t.  And there’s an ask about a canon-divergent-post-Season-1 Young Justice episode premise that’s been burning a hole in my inbox for at least 5 months now.

So yeah.  More writing breakdowns to come.  In the meantime, I previously wrote a Frustrations With analysis of how My Hero Academia’s story struggled following the Hideout Raid Arc if you’d like to check that one out.  There’s also this big compilation of links to my Young Justice and Danny Phantom meta (plus recommendations for fanfics and other stories), and you can check out the writing advice tag for general storytelling discussions.

Hopefully that makes up for the drought of Teen Titans content!

[rebornrosess]

obsessed with this psychiatrist’s psychoanalysis of greg

[wambschella]

succession as christmas songs

kendall - christmas wrapping - the waitresses

shiv - grown up christmas list - amy grant

roman - i wish it could be christmas everyday - wizzard

connor - merry christmas everyone - shakin stevens

tom - merry christmas darling - the carpenters

greg - santa baby - eartha kitt

[dasketcherz]

thought i'd share my thought process for this fun lil piece / outfit in full display that i whipped out for beckory on valentines cuz i really had a lotta fun making it <3

OKAY first off, big thanks to @leaky-heart for helpin me gather some really cool outfit refs and for lending me resources where I can find a ref for bonnie's guitar in a 3d space. Thank you bestie, yar a life saver <3

Second, @/littleleaflings' jacket—goated af, will never stop gushin bout it aaaaAAA <3

Okay so looking at freddy & bonnie's designs—i am in love with how their dominant and accent colors are opposite of each other like a yin and yang situation. So i absolutely tried to incorporate that when rearranging the palette unto beckory's outfit

Fronnie's colors arent the only contrasting elements about them. Aside from their earrings, even their symbols are a pair—i love how freddy's is a lighting bolt but he is also associated with stars on the side cuz of his branding. While bonnie's is a star but he also has lightning bolts on the side (the purple accent in his fit) to match freddy

And to sprinkle a bit of beckory flair, i put stripe lines across their pants (if you look back on my ref sheet for the squad, the three amigos all have stripes somewhere in their fits, i purposely designed that to be their thing) just to also unify the patterns from their top

i gave tony a scarf to match greg's bow tie accessory. Its a combo homage to bonnie's headband and bunny ears in a way (cuz the ribbons on its ends look like droopy rabbit ears) i gave them gloves to compensate being unable to add punk bracelets on em cuz it would be too much for the overall look (same logic applies to the star shades, its to match with the top hat)

Also this was such a pure coincidence but i also realized beckory wears their fazwatches in the same placement as fronnie wears their earrings on. That actually makes me very happy, i think its a really cool coincidence

And as yall can see, Greg's jacket initially had stars on his sleeves (like it does in the ref), but i decided against putting it in the final cuz im startin to think it might look cluttered and hard to read from afar and tbh, I really liked how the translucent sleeves turned out... I didnt want the star pattern to cover it up lol

And thats pretty much it, thank you coming to my ted talk!! <3

if youre interested to see more of my art process compilation like this you can check over on my ko-fi page, you can support me by buying me a latte cuz I am planning to post more exclusive stuff like this over there in the future so I hope yall look forward to that! I deeply appreciate yall and thank you so much in advance!!

[radiant-reid]

any fic recommendations ?? love ur blog ❤️

after the events of yesterday, i'd love the chance to spread some CM love. i tried to do fics rather than masterlists but most of these writers have their masterlist linked or in their bio. i'm missing a hundred people so send me a message if there's fics you want me to add PLEASE READ EACH WRITER'S WARNINGS/RULES. *denotes smut fics

spencer reid

Milburn Seven Months by @aperrywilliams

Here + Velvet by @wtfevenismypage

all signs point to yes the break-up box two’s a crowd, three’s a party *by @wheelsup

what happens in California* by @spencersawkward

Stumbling Home…Alone ….to end up with you (all well that ends well happy ending version) Secret Life by @reidsbookclub

Babies and New Beginnings In The Middle Of The Night * by @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Mirror* by @sinfulspencer

THE BOY’S A SLAG* GODPARENTS* + GODPARENTS II by @eideticmemory

Oh Baby! by @fortheloveofwonderland

Not Your Backup by @imagining-in-the-margins

Clean + Clean, PT. 2 by @ofwilliamandwalter

spencer reid sfw alphabet by @candlesandsoftrain

Is a Home still a Home? * Only her * by @little-diable

A Real Father's Love Drunk on You Room 405 by @smurphyse

I Would Never Fall + Unless It’s You I Fall Into by @reidscanehand

“i want to love someone and be loved” / part 2 how to ask a girl out by @spacedikut

eros & thanatos by @reidamancy

Through the Smoke by @homoose

Goodbye Forever, Until Next Time by @mercy-burning

night shift by @behindyourbarrette

loving you was red collection by @writer-in-theory

36 Questions to Fall in Love by @boldlyvoid

flick, flick, burn this vast empty space, picture perfect by @literaila

aaron 'hotch' hotchner

Fluffy Feb event masterlist by @hotchs-bitch masterlist by @doctorstethoscope masterlist by @honeybrowne

Yes, Mr President * Wonderstruck by @doctorstethoscope

In the Suburbs * by @hoe4hotchner

Ivy * enemies to lovers blurb by @greg-montgomery

On the Road Again * The Stranger Next Door * Wish You Were Here + Back to You Meet The Hotchners by @ssahotchswife

Come Back Home by @hotched

As Long as You Want Me by @spacecowboyhotch

"Agent" by @kryptonitejelly

Wasteland, Baby by @heliotropehotch

Big Dick Energy * by @maybege

Good For Him Reckless (21.7k words, go read rn) by @ptersparkers

Never Do That Again * by @fatecantstopme

delicate by @bbq-chipz

hard-headed painfully professional another man's jeans * by @honeypiehotchner

When one door closes, try to take the girl home by @azenpal

like real people do + i'll crawl home to you (you'll cry your eyes out, be warned) by @ssahotchhner

New Mom by @marvelslut16

My Love I Can't Hide + I Wanna Hold Your Hand by @reidscanehead

Rossi's Neighbour by @capturedminds

The 30th * Truth or Dare * by @little-diable

Surprise Visit * by @wheelsupkels

I Love You More* by @ssamorganhotchner

Perfect for Me Marry Me? Baby Drunk by @hotch-stufff

Aaron, I’m Pregnant by @ssahotchsbitch

[dduane]

Judging books by their covers

Having spent the morning reading the notes on this post (and reading them, and reading them...), I realized I really needed to get to grips with a piece of work I'd been avoiding.

Some of you may remember me mentioning that the Young Wizards website's longtime ISP went out of business suddenly in July, necessitating the site's hasty relocation to a new home. In the process a lot of its internal URLs ceased to operate correctly, meaning that files weren't displaying. (As I was quickly reminded when looking for the original David Wiesner art for So You Want To Be A Wizard at 01:30 last night.)

Anyway, I just wound up spending the day rescanning book covers for the Young Wizards publication history page, and was reminded of some favorites while getting the work done. (And a note for the interested: if there's any particular cover from an English-language edition of the YW books that interests you, or you think the sight of one might jog your memory somehow, that page is where you'll find the images. Use the tabs under the header image to take you through the history of publishers and artists.)

Meanwhile, being reminded of what happened to the covers for So You Want To... alone is both funny and a bit sobering. Styles change, formats change, art directors change. Sometimes the covers get a lot better, and sometimes they, uh, don't. Look at the difference in styles alone among these, for example.

Most of the time the writer gets to take what they're given, and like it. Sometimes, though, they get to give advice.

Here, for example, is one time that happened.

This is for the UK hardcover of the first of the Feline Wizards books. The artist, Mick Posen, is a cat person... and he insisted on having pictures of the cats who inspired the NY worldgating team before he started painting. Just look at these three, especially Rhiow there in the foreground. Is this a hero, or what? :)

Here's one that caused a little controversy.

The question of the day: Is Nita wearing anything? And if so, what?

The art won Greg Swearingen a silver Spectrum Award for that Deep Wizardry painting. But he and my then-editor on the series, Michael Stearns, apparently got into it a little regarding a conflict between the text and the necessities of painting a YA cover. If I remember correctly, I think Greg was holding out for "She's not wearing anything in the text in this situation, she just turned human again after changing back from being a whale, she shouldn't be wearing anything here!" and Michael was saying "But the parents, what if we freak out the parents...!" ...Eventually it seems like some kind of compromise was achieved. Swirly light = magic, or something. (shrug) Not my problem. It's a lovely cover.

About this one I have, well, mixed feelings. At this end of time, the art looks clunky. Yet this is also my first bestseller. When the SF Book Club published this omnibus, Support Your Local Wizard quickly set records as their single most-requested item of all time for new members just signing up. Its print run ran to more than 250,000 copies, and it remained constantly in print until the Book Club itself ended.

I've always been fond of this one for Deep Wizardry, and also of the one the artist, Neal McPheeters, did for the Dell Yearling and Dell mass market paperback editions of So You Want To... . There's a solid quality to both of them, but the second one in particular, that appeals to me.

(For those in the notes on that other post who reacted immediately to Kit's antenna: This is one of the reasons why it features—along with one of Nita's wands from the rowan tree Liused—on all the covers of the revised/updated Young Wizards New Millennium Editions. I've seen a lot of memories jogged by its appearance.)

...Do I have a favorite favorite one of all these covers? As usual, it's hard to pick. But I have to admit that I smile, at the moment, when looking at this one—Greg Swearingen’s art again—since in a couple of weeks it'll be the fortieth anniversary of So You Want To Be A Wizard's publication.

We'll see what the publisher does for the fiftieth. :)

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Sweatshirt (Greg House x reader)

Summary: House gets jealous by a certain article of clothing you're wearing

Warnings: petty/jealous House (aka the best kind), heavily implied poly House x reader x Wilson in case that's not your thing, very mild and brief swearing

A/N: based off a random little thought I had. don't ask me when during the show this is supposed to be set because I have no clue

It was missing. Wilson's McGill sweatshirt was missing, and House was very upset. It was his turn to wear it, and although he could've sworn he left it balled up on his side of the bed before he left for work it wasn't there when he returned.

The thought popped into his head that someone might've stolen it, but that was just stupid. After all, who would break into his apartment just to take a sweater?

You, apparently, as he soon came to realize when combing back over his place to look for it. He hadn't noticed it on you at first when he walked in, but now it was hard to miss, like a bright red target painted across your chest.

He almost glared at the way you were casually lounging on the couch, reading a book as if you hadn't stolen from him. "You're wearing his sweater." It wasn't a question, rather a statement, which made sense due to how very obvious the fact was.

You looked up from where you'd been reading and gave him an unimpressed look. "And you walk with a cane. Tell me something I don't know."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards into an amused half smile, but he tried to push his fond thoughts of you to the side for the time being. "You know, it's my turn to wear his sweater."

Letting out a hum, you dropped your eyes back down to the book in your hands and lazily turned the page. "Technically, it's my turn, after you decided to hide it for three weeks so I couldn't wear it."

That was true, he did do that. It was for no reason other than to mess with you, but now he was really started to regret his past decisions, something that rarely happened, if ever.

"You stole it from me, right out of my very own bed," he tried a different approach, putting on a face of mock hurt and offense in hopes of swaying you and getting it back. "Shame on you."

"You stole it from me first." Damn it, you had him there. "I was just returning the favor."

House stood there in front of you for a few minutes more hoping you'd somehow break with no such luck. Sighing loudly, he flopped down in his armchair, giving you a dirty look. "You know, two wrongs don't make a right."

You glanced up from your book, peeking at him from over the top of it. "An ethics lecture coming from you of all people? Well, this oughta be good." Now, it was your turn to be amused, something that didn't bode well with his competitive nature.

Seeing as it wasn't going to happen any other way, he tried a more direct approach in order to get you to give it back. "I want it. I want to wear it. It's mine."

"Technically, no, it's not. It's Wilson's, and I'm borrowing it," you pointed out, appearing unbothered by the evil look getting thrown your way. "Go find something else of his to wear if it's upsetting you so bad."

"I don't want to wear something else, though," he whined obnoxiously, trying to get on your nerves. It was working, but not nearly enough to get him what he wanted.

"Tough, because I'm wearing it right now. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Part of you thought that maybe you'd won this argument when he got up and left the room, but that thought was soon diminished when he came back less than a few minutes later, throwing something at your head.

"Really?" You asked in obvious irritation while pulling the shirt he'd thrown at you off your head.

"Put that on, and give me the sweatshirt back. That way you'll still feel all cozy and close to your doting boyfriends without having to wear that specifically," he reasoned as he stood there, his hands resting on the top of his cane. He looked proud of himself, like he was a little kid who'd finally solved a puzzle.

Despite your annoyance, it was hard to keep the slight smile off your face. Still, you weren't going to let him win that easily. "I'm not wearing it because of sentimental value. I'm wearing it because it's comfortable."

He groaned loudly, becoming visibly annoyed. "Why must you always be so damn difficult?"

"Funny, I could ask you the same question," you muttered as you held up the shirt and took a good look at it. It was one of House's old band tees, which made you realize something. "Hold on, are you jealous because you don't get to wear the sweatshirt, or is it because I'm wearing Wilson's clothes and not yours?"

The obvious pout on his face quickly gave away the answer. "Just give me the sweatshirt now, and I'll promise I'll give it back later." He held his hand out expectantly, resulting in you throwing his shirt back at his face.

"Nice try, but you're going to have to pry this off my cold, dead body." You settled back into the couch with your book as he walked away, grumbling under his breath. It appeared as though you'd won the battle, for now at least.

End notes: I've never written for House before but I tried to capture his personality the best I could! Hope y'all liked the Hilson references sprinkled in lol

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

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[frost-queen]

The burden you carry (Male!Reader & Bridgerton siblings)

Requested by: anon ,Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

When does it end?

The burning question igniting each time it happened. Each time it occurred you wondered when does it end? The pain… no the torment. The excruciating pain shooting through your head. Countless of times you had endured it. Countless of times you thought you had gone through the worst one yet.

Yet there was always another episode that caught you by surprise. Bypassing your previous feeling so strong. Each time it felt worse then before. Sometimes it made you wonder why you were even alive. Tormented with this curse that seemed uncurable.

Many physicians you had seen come and go. Each with their own remedies. Most of them were questionable liquids. It was when one of the more alternative physicians proposed shock therapy, that your family drew the line.

You felt it come up while sitting in the parlor. Hyacinth was practicing the piano with Colin. Sitting side by side as Colin talked encouraging to her as her fingers tickled the keys. Gregory sat closest to you eating a biscuit. The crumbs falling down on the little plate he was holding close under his chin when taking a bite. Anthony and Kate sat in front of each other by the small table.

Kate enjoying a nice cup of tea. Anthony reading the newspaper. Tilting your head a bit, you tried to ignore the stinging pain in your head. Feeling as if the muscles in your head contracted together. A pulsating beat of pain came up. It made you touch your forehead slightly. Hoping you could press the pain back by setting pressure on it.

Gregory must have noticed it as you received a nudge on your elbow from him. Blinking yourself aware, you turned to look at him. Gregory’s expression concerned; mouth still stuffed with cake. You forced a smile not wanting to alarm him. – “All fine Gregs.” – you whispered to him, poking him in the side. Your touch made Gregory squirm and chuckle loud. It caught Anthony’s attention. Lowering his newspaper to look at the both of you.

You kept poking Gregory in the side, making him laugh even louder. He sunk down in the couch, his legs moving up on your lap. You kept teasing him till a strike of pain hit your brains like a hard snap. It made you stop, flinching at the pain with a soft groan. Hyacinth missed a key. The sharp note chiming loud through the parlor. Stinging loud in everyone’s ears. – “Sorry.” – Hyacinth apologized feeling a bit ashamed. Colin brought her attention back to the piano.

“Let us try that again, sister.” – he said. You swallowed when Anthony kept a close eye on you. He always did. Sometimes it bothered you, but mostly it showed you how much he cared and loved for you. Gregory’s plate had fallen during his tickle session with you. He bend down to pick it up and pluck some crumbs off the carpet. Kate raising her eyebrow at him.

Making him smile sheepishly at her in return. The door to the parlor opened as Sofie walked in. Benedict following moments later. Anthony got up instinctively giving his seat away to Sofie. Kate smiled welcoming her over. – “I am worn out.” – she sighed out sitting down on Anthony’s previous seat. Kate turned to look at Benedict.

“If you keep setting her up like an object any longer she might turn into stone.” – Kate commented knowing off the painting Benedict was working on. Benedict moved his hand to his chest, smiling teasingly. – “Your cold looks might just do the trick.” – he joked knowing Kate would not be offended by such a tease.

She smiled sarcastically back at him before smiling purely at his delight. Gregory ran with the plate and picked up crumbs to the table, setting it down by Kate and Sofie. He then wanted to run off when Anthony cleared his throat loud. – “What?” – Gregory asked. Anthony pointed at the plate making Gregory groan loud. He walked back to the plate picking it up.

Sighing deep he went further through the parlor giving the plate to one of the maids. She accepted it with a curtsy, heading for the kitchen afterwards. While your siblings and their spouses were conversating, increased the pain. Head throbbing. A dull pain behind your eyes. The pain was sickening as you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand the noise.

Touching your forehead you bend forwards. Wanting to cancel out the pain and noise. Hyacinth’s piano tunes where the drop as the noise was overwhelming. An orchestra of pain and noise banging loudly in your head. Your ability to carry the pain slowly tumbling down.

When does it end? You got up abruptly. Heading for the hallway, leaving the parlor. Anthony furrowed slightly his brows till it came to him that you had left. Turning his head to the door you just went out. Immediately he went after you. – “Y/n!” – Anthony called out in the hallway seeing you hasten your way for the stairs. – “Not now Anthony.” – you replied more agitated then you anticipated. Your answered alarmed him in an instant.

Anthony rushed to the stairs wanting to go after you. As he set the first foot on the first step had Kate, Sofie and Gregory rushed into the hallway. – “Is he alright?” – Sofie asked concerned. – “I shall fetch the cold compress.” – Kate said determined already moving towards her destination. – “No!” – Anthony called out firmly. – “I…allow me.” – he said going a few steps up. – “Anthony let us help. If it is as severe as before we can assist.” – Kate replied.

“He’s my brother!” – Anthony shouted frustrated, startling Sofie. Kate swallowed in her pride knowing not to comment snarky at this given moment. – “I…I have to do it.” – he sighed out losing a bit of his frustration. – “We all care for him, Anthony.” – Kate answered pleadingly. – “I know… I know…” – he said pinching his nose bridge. – “We will be here when you need us.” – Sofie interfered wrapping an arm around Gregory. Anthony smiled thankfully at her before heading up the stairs.

You had stumbled into your room. Head throbbing, veins pulsating as you felt like losing your balance. You sunk down to the ground by your bed’s end on the floor. Knees up to your chest, cowering in pain. Sweat dripping down your neck. The pace of your breathing increasing by every inhale. When does it end? Were you ever able to experience a life without pain? Countless times you had endured it.

Each time thinking you couldn’t bare it no more. Perhaps today was the day you finally had lost all your strength to carry it. No more of it could you burden it. No more of it you wanted. The tears rolled down your cheek, panting at the excruciating pain in your head and eyes. The walls seemingly pulsating as if a vibration was leaving your body.

A sickening overwhelming you, making you want to throw up. Heavy footsteps stomped in the hallway. The door creaking open in one firm motion. Anthony rushing into your room. – “Brother.” – he called out dropping to his knees beside you.

He wanted to touch your shoulder. Not wanting it, you slapped it away. – “Keep your pity!” – you shouted at him. Anthony stared hurtful back at you. – “Leave me.” – you sobbed out. He didn’t move. – “Leave!” – you shouted trembling with emotion. Not meaning one bit of your words.

Anthony took a deep breath, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You tried fighting him by moving your shoulders. Wanting to push him off, but his embrace was strong. – “I will not let go Y/n.” – he said pressing his cheek onto your shoulder. Still resisting you finally gave in. Your muscles weaking under his grip. Anthony held you tighter in his arms. – “Please…” – he said softly to himself. – “give it to me. Give his pain to me, I beg you. Give it to me, my brother has suffered enough. Let me take it from him.” – he spoke pleading with anyone Godly listening.

“I shall hold onto you Y/n.” – he took your head between his hands, bringing your forehead closer to his. – “Let your pain be mine.” – he whispered closing his eyes. You removed your head from against his, falling into his embrace. Sweat breaking out. Shivering at the immensely pain. Head pressed against his chest; you moved your arms around his body.

“You won’t have to go through this alone.” – Anthony told you keeping you close in his embrace. Suffering against him, he remained by your side, helping you through your pain. Through the cluster headaches you have been feeling since you were but a young boy. A pain that was never going to leave. As him. As your family who was never going to leave your side.

-----------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Inconveniences

Warnings: Smut, periods, reader is a bit self conscious about periods and period sex, please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1K

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: I was in the mood for period smut and accidentally made it fluffier than I intended to but that’s okay. There may be some errors because I have not read over it yet but I will when I have more time.

Tags: @greg-montgomery

This post is nsfw minors DNI*

"Wait Aaron.  No we have to stop." Aaron was on top of you and starting to pull your shirt off before you stopped him.  "Is everything okay?" He looks at you slightly concerned.  He's searching your face for something.  "Everything's fine I just- I can't-" you let out a sigh.  "We just can't have sex right now is all." He sits back.  "Honey if you don't want to have sex it's fine.  We don't need to do anything." "It's not that I don't want to, because believe me I want to, I'm just I'm I just-" you trail off and look away.  Clearly embarrassed about something.  

He puts the pieces together now.  "You want to but you're on your period aren't you?" His voice is soft and he tilts his head to the side a little.  You give him a shy nod.  "I'm sorry Aaron.  I didn't mean to mislead you or anything.  I just forgot about it until you went to take my shirt off and I guess I just panicked a little." You stare at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers.  "You don't need to apologise.  We can just cuddle and watch TV if you want."  He's being so kind and understanding which you're not used to.  This happened once before with someone else and they were completely disgusted and annoyed because they thought they were going to have a good time.  

He moves to lay down beside you and face you.  He can tell you're embarrassed.  But he can also see that there's something else going on in your head.  "There's something else bothering you isn't there?" He brings his hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face before smoothing his thumb over your cheek.  You sigh again and look over at him.  "You're just being so nice about it and I feel bad because I gave you the impression that you would get to have some fun tonight.  And now you're probably disgusted with me." You continued to fiddle with your fingers.  It's his turn to sigh now.  "Sweetheart why would I be disgusted by you because you're on your period?  It's completely natural.  And I see much more blood in my job on a regular basis.  Your cycle doesn't bother me.  You do know that I keep hygiene products here for you in my bathroom right?" 

This surprises you because no you didn't know about that.  He never mentioned it before.  You furrow your brows at him.  "You do?  Since when?" "Since you started spending the night from time to time about four months ago.  I figured you might need some at some point." He's so considerate you're practically looking at him with heart eyes because he's so sweet.  "I promise it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all."

That makes you think.  You look down and see he's still about half hard in his sweats.  "It's not a turn off for you?" "Not in the slightest.  Is it for you?"  "Well no.  But I thought you wouldn't want to do anything once you knew.  Someone else said they thought it was gross and didn't want to after I told them." You looked back down still a bit embarrassed about that encounter even if it was years ago.  "If you're open to it I'd love to make you feel good Sweetheart." He moves his hand to rub up and down your side.  "But I don't want get any on you." You move your gaze back to his.  

He looks away momentarily as he thinks.  "I think we can work around that.  I wouldn't mind it but if you're not comfortable with that we can try something different."  "Like what?"  He smiles and moves back on top of you.  "Tell me if you want to stop at any point okay?" You nod.  He kisses you deeply and you move your hands to tangle in his hair.  He moves his to gently grope your breasts.  He figures they might be extra sensitive so he's careful with his movements on them.  "Can I take this off?" He questions as he grabs the hem of your shirt.  You nod again and he pulls it over your head.  

He starts kissing your neck.  Slowly moving down to your chest and he wraps his lips around one of your nipples making you suck in a breath.  He's trying to get you worked up again.  And he's doing it very well.  He does the same to your other nipple and once he thinks you've had enough he moves back up to kiss your lips again.

He starts rocking his hips into yours.  His clothed cock pressing right against your clothed pussy.  You gasp at the sudden movement and bring your legs around his torso.  He starts grinding harder against you.  You're moaning into his mouth and he's swallowing each one.  You try your best to move your hips with his and he buries his face in your neck to nip and suck there as he groans.  

"Is this okay baby?" He mumbles against your skin.  "Yes.  Yes Aaron it's good.  It feels good.  Can you go faster please?" He obliges and you're moaning louder than before.  Your back arching off the mattress.  "Aaron please.  Please please." Moving against you even harder and faster you quickly come undone shortly followed by Aaron's hips stuttering as he groans loudly into your ear.  

Aaron kisses you again.  It's slow and messy.  Tongues moving together and saliva mixing.  You both pull away panting and he presses his forehead to yours as the two of you come down and catch your breath.  

"Was that a good compromise?" He asks still a bit breathless.  "Yes it was a very good one." He gives a small chuckle and kisses your forehead.  "Please don't be embarrassed about anything Honey.  Especially not this.  Not with me.  Let's get cleaned up and then we can snuggle yeah?" He's running the back of a finger over your cheek again.  It's a comforting touch and he knows you love it because you always lean into it.  "Yeah." You smile at him and he helps you to the bathroom.  

Once you're both back in bed and snuggled up he turns the lights off and the TV on.  Soon enough you've both drifted off in peaceful sleep completely wrapped up in each other.  

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

How Was I Supposed To Know?

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Ghostface!Fem!Reader

[Summary]: You were in a very bad condition after last years killing, and are taken advantage of in a way that is unforgivable. Kind of.

[Warnings]: Angst, swearing, blood, death, bad writing, not proof-read

A/N: Here. It's long-ish, it's bad. Have fun reading.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The Ghostface killings of 2022 in Woodsboro was a huge Trauma for you, your girlfriend and you guys’ friends. And, of course, all of you are dealing with it differently. Tara is more distant-she still spends time with you, but as much- and Chad has just kind of turned into a gym-rat, Mindy got herself a girlfriend for emotional support. And you? Oh, you had gone completely crazy. No one has noticed your rather strange behavior, luckily for you.

And so, It wasn’t that hard for Quinn, Ethan and Bailey to lure you into their sick plan of killing your girlfriend and friends.  First, you hesitated then, after around two weeks of consideration, you agreed. Never really knowing why, but you did. Of course you love your friends and you love your girlfriend, but you just need some kind of ... .relief. The first couple of months, you were only helping them create their plan of action then, you were there. In the apartment of Jason and Greg. You don’t really have any classes with them, so you haven’t talked with them.

The feeling of your knife ripping Greg’S flesh and tearing his skin was…..relieving.  Your knife being pulled out of his chest then pushed back into it. To say that you had your fun while ripping and anatomizing his body, would be an understatement. You had never felt anything like it in your life. It was so indescribable. His blood splashing over your robe and mask.

Then, came Jason. The little game you played with him was exciting. Especially when he got so close to the fridge and slowly opened it, his face turning pale as he saw Greg- Teared into pieces. That’s when you striked and started stabbing him uncontrollably, chuckling as he was gagging on his own blood.

And now, here you are. In an abdomend theater, having arrived with Ethan after you had taken Mindy to the hospital with him. You are currently watching as Tara and Sam yell at Kirby, saying that she is the killer and you couldn’t help but let out a snort at the pathetic thought. 

A minute or so later, Bailey came in. Started screaming with his pistol held high. “Kirby, stop! Get away from the girls!” 

“What are you doing?” Kirby asked with a shaky voice, panting. Her head was covered in blood, due to how hard you had hit her.

“Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill my daughter?”  Bailey shouted as his body shook. You chuckle and grip your knife harder when your eyes settle on Tara. She doesn’t deserve this. None of them do, but…….it is all too much fun. 

“Jesus Christ!”Kirby yelled, her hands shakily holding the gun. Then she glances at the Carpenter girls. “Whatever he’s been saying to you, don’t listen to him!”  Bailey’s face falls as he looks at her. “He’s probably the killer!”  

And that’s when Quinn runs out from behind the curtain and starts going quickly towards them with her hand in the air, knife in it. “Behind you!” Kirby screams then Bailey shoots her and she falls to the ground. Bailey smirks as Quinn settles beside him and the Carpener sister’s gasp and look at them.

“Great job”

You laugh maniacally and run out from behind the curtains with Ethan calmly next to you. Yu, full of energy can’t stand in place as the others talk. “All three of you.” Bailey says. 

“You?” Tara asks, betrayed. 

“Yeah, of course me. Frankly, I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us.” He mumbles with gritted teeth. You look at the interaction with a smile on your face behind the mask. 

“What do you mean ‘us’? “ 

At that, Ethan huffs and reaches up to take off his mask. “Ta-da!” He giggles. “ Mindy was right.It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. “ He smiles smugly. “ All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha literally named Chad! Fuck, It felt good to kill him. “ The girls just look at him, gasping for air. “ This was your grandmother’s, Sam. Nancy Loomis? “ He points to the mask with his knife. “ Really runs in the fucking family, doesn’t it? “ Then puts down his hand that holds the mask. “ Speaking of family.. My name is not Ethan Landry, is it, Dad? “ He looks at Bailey who smiles at him and laughs.

“Dad?” Your attention is turned to Tara as she speaks and your smile fades slightly, kid of having second thoughts then shaking your head and brushing them away. They laugh then turn around to face you.

 You smirk and slowly reach up to take off your mask. When you do, you hear two gasps and smile. “Well, hello there, Carpenters. Heh, surprise! “ You hold up your hands and shake them, giggling. Tara’s eyes fill with tears as she looks into yours, seeing nothing but blackness.

“Y/N?” She gasps out and holds back a sob. “Why? “

All of a sudden, Sam speaks up. “Wait, if it’s you three, that just leaves….” Quinn smirks and turns her head at the older Carpenter, tilting it. “..Mindy?” She sighs and there is a beat of silence-the only sounds that can be heard are the two men snickering- then she slowly takes off her mask too.

“Hey, roomies.”  She smirks as she looks at them with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “ Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

Tara scoffs. “Yeah, because you died!”

“Kind of didn’t, though.”  Quinn turns to look at you and her family. “ It was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train. That sort of thing.”

Bailey sighs and puts his arm around his kids as you stand there with a sick smile on your face. “And I just made sure, I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one.”  Sam and Tara just stares .” Little fake blood, a prosthetic. You’d be amazed with what a grieving father can get away with.”

You, Quinn and Ethan split up and go different ways. You make your way behind the girls as the ghostface siblings go on each side. Quinn walks slowly as she speaks. “ I got Stu Macher’s mask.  He was my favorite.”

Then, it’s your turn to speak. “Well, I, myself, got Jill Roberts’s mask. She was my favorite.”

You glance at Ethan as he puts his/Nancy’s mask on a mannequin with Nancy’s bloodied coat.

“Nice. That’s number four. That’s three. “Bailey points at you. “That’s number two. “He now points at Quinn. “Which leaves…….” He puts his hand under his jacket and pulls out another mask.” Your father’s” There is a beat of silence as Sam’s and Tara’s angry eyes stare at him. “This is what we’ve been counting down to, Sam “ Sam’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looks at the mask held out in-front of her then glances back at Bailey. “ I'm gonna need you to put it on” 

Tara’s breathing picks up as she looks at her sister. You let out a small giggle as a smile makes its way on your face. Your grip on your knife tightens in both excitement and anger. You are angry at your heart. Angry at it for aching whenever you spare even a small glance at Tara. 

Sam’s scream snaps you out of your thoughts. “Fuck you!” 

Suddenly Ethan leans over the drawer he is leaning against and slices her arm. She gasps and takes a step back along with Tara. You grit your teeth and take a step closer, swinging your arm and slicing the older Carpenter’s other arm. 

“Ooh” Ethan lets out teasingly.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Tara screams and looks at Ethan then at you. When your eyes meet, there is a certain hatred in her eyes that you never in your life would’ve thought would be targeted towards you. Her hand holding the brick tightly. 

“Oh come on. “

Sam turns back around to face Bailey. “What? What is it? You did this as a family? “

You perk up. “Uh, no. Not exactly. I’m just ... .I'm not in the family. They all are though.” 

Ethan and Quinn join you where you stand, their knives painting towards the girls. “They’re still not getting it. “ Ethan shakes his head while smiling. 

“I don’t know what you believe. But I didn’t commit those murders in Woodsboro. It wasn’t me!” Sam shakes her head rapidly and you scoff. Even laughing as Bailey speaks with them. Then, your eyes go to your girlfriend. Taking in the way her body is trembling in fear as she pants and listens to your accomplices. You clench your jaw as thoughts about not making it come to your brain. About giving up, turning against your accomplices , killing them and later feeling the warmth of her arms around you again. Even if you have to go to jail. But you shake your head and you focus back on your targets. 

You see Quinn take a sudden step ahead from beside you towards Tara. She flinches back and gasps. You swallow and put a smile on your face, trying to shake your previous thoughts away. When you’re successful, you let out a sigh and grin brighter without a hint of pity or sadness in your eyes.

“And you’re a killer. “ You focus once again and see Bailey pointing at Sam. “Just like your father.” 

“No, I’m not!” 

That makes Quinn shake with anger as she screams”  Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother! “ Tears well in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Sam shakes her head. 

“You said your brother died in a car accident. “ Tara stares at Quinn. 

“No, No, no. You sweet, dumb thing, he died in woodsboro. “Ethan pauses as he swallows while looking at the younger Carpenter. “At the hands of your bitch sister. “ He looks at Sam. 

Sam looks around in disbelief as Tara’s mouth opens slightly in shock. “You’re Richie’s family. “ Sam blinks.

You snort. “Well, as I said before, not all of us, but yeah. Go on. “ You see Quinn roll her eyes.

Bailey’s glare hardens as she looks at the sisters. Then he nods rapidly. “ Yeah. “

Ethan takes a deep breath and strikes forwards, pushing his knife into Sam’s shoulder. Tara shouts at him and holds her sister, pushing them to the side. 

“Ding-ding-ding! She’s finally starting to get it.” He laughs and grins.. All of you split from your previous position and you circle around them. You laugh as you pretend to strike and they flinch, swinging their arms, still holding the brick blocks. Bailey screams at them.

When there is a beat of silence, Quinn’s knife is pointed at Sam as she takes a step closer. Suddenly, Sam’s eyes darken as she looks at Quinn with hooded eyes.. Quinn raises her eyebrows, pushing her knife closer to Sam’s throat. “There she is. There’s the fucking killer.”

You squeal in excitement and jump up and down. “Who-hoo! Yes!” 

Tara turns and looks at Bailey. “Great parenting job, by the way. “Then she looks at you and shakes her head. “I-...why? “ 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you look into her teary eyes before answering while laughing. “ Well I guess I’m just fucking crazy, bitch! “ You spit.

Quinn realizes what Tara has said and angrily pushes  her. Making you huff with a new found anger. “ Shut your whore fucking mouth!” 

— —

A minute or two later after Bailey’s monologue, he starts shouting with his gun pointed at Sam. Your face scrunches in disgust as his spit flies everywhere.

“Now, put on the mask. “ 

Sam takes a deep breath before letting it out. “He was…... .so pathetic. “Tara furrows her eyebrows in confusion. 

Bailey shudders. “That’s not true. “ 

“Yeah, your son,”  Sam continues in a small voice. “He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killings”  Her words are like a knife to the heart to the detective.

“He was a strong, virile  young man!” 

Sam now fully faces him and looks him in the eyes. “He was a limp-dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat. '' Sam spits every word out like poison. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Quinn screams and strikes, but is stopped by Tara as she swings her arm and punches Quinn in the face with the brick. You take a step back as she falls to the ground. You see Sam punching Bailey then go to Tara, trying to find a safer place. Ethan growls and runs at Kirby, who shot his father. 

A minute later, you watch as Sam literally carves him up. Only, your psycho smile has fallen and  your arm is limp at your side. Then, your eyes follow her and Tara as they crawl up onto the balcony. But they have to be careful as there are multiple things around so they have to go on the edge. All of a sudden, Tara slips and almost falls, but gets a grip on the railing. You gasp. Then you are snapped out of your dark and depressed thoughts by Bailey’s voice shouting. You huff and shake your head, a little dizzy. Hand once again gripping your knife as you approach your girlfriend hanging.

You stand there with a deep glare but also a big smile-that makes you look terrifying- which drops when you hear Ethan say. “I’ve always wanted to stick something in you, Tara!” Then as they are screaming and Sam is trying to help Tara up-Unsuccessfully- Quinn appears at the door of the balcony. She is smirking while looking at Sam. The next moment, Sam gives Tara something and she jumps, landing between you and Ethan.

Ethan’s knife is plugged into her belly as she lands and she screams, but then suddenly she wings her arm too and a knife is pushed inside Ethan’’s mouth.

Bailey is screaming at you, but you just stare at Tara as she smirks. “Now die a fucking virgin. “ Then pulls her knife out and blood splashes on her face. Tara gets up and turns to you. You take a deep breath.

Come on. This is what you signed up for.

She runs towards you and you duck as she tries to stab you. When you straighten up again, you smirk and run at her. She gasps and steps aside, but not enough so your knife purses into her right arm. Her glare hardens as she looks at you. Tara then runs and catches you off guard as she plugs her knife inside you. You groan and fall to your knees. She twists the knife and you let out a cry and drop your knife. Pulling out the knife and pushing it back in rapidly. When she finishes, she is crying, sobbing then her body collapses.

“Did you ever even love me?!” Tara yells as her bloody hands grip your robe. You choke on your blood and cough it up, a sudden tiredness washing over you.

“More than you could ever fucking imagine. “ You stutter before letting out your last breath and your body goes limp in Tara’S hands.

— —

Almost half an hour later, Tara and Sam are standing outside the theater, a bunch of ambulances and police cars surrounding them. Sam and Kirby are talking while Kirby is slowly taken into an ambulance when Tara lets out a sob and they look at her.

“Hey, what is it? “

“Why her? How ….how could she do this. “ She cries. “And-And why?!” 

Sam gives her a sad look. “I don’t know. I……wish she’d talked to us more. Maybe then…we could’ve changed things” Kirby nods as her eyes soften while looking at the younger Carpenter.

Sam’s arms wrap around Tara as she sobs out “ I loved her so much.” 

[olderthannetfic]

I did something dumb recently. I discovered the book "Diaspora" by Greg Egan, and I ordered it online from a chain bookstore because I really wanted to read it. Waited two weeks for it to arrive, and finally got it.

I opened the book, and it's in French.

I read basic French. So this wouldn't be a problem... However, unlike the other books I've purchased, I ordered this one because it's very hard science fiction and full of complex ideas, and everyone online said it's notoriously tough to read even in their native language. I wanted a challenge, but English would have been fine. I can't even attempt to read this with my fledgling French skills. Too much challenge! Go back!

I returned to the listing, and tucked away in the "language" tag under an expanding details menu, it says French. Oops. My bad. So I guess this is a cautionary tale; don't buy a book and assume it's English just because the listing is in English. Treat the product page like an Ebay listing and assume nothing.

(Unless this was a bizarre one-off experience, but I'm not even sure.)

--

God, every year, big online things get worse, whether it's ordering from Amazon or searching on Google.

Once I'm not right in the middle of having a newborn, I have got to get back to de-Amazoning my life.