#crippling fear or writing for a new character and fandom starts now!

[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[13-frinfransstudios]

PROJECT ANNOUNCEMENT~!

I just wanna say that MY ONE SHOT STORIES ARE NOW OUT ON WATTPAD~~

They short story collections full of gayness and fluff! Join me on my quest in writing sweet scenarios you can enjoy as couples or a single sapphic like me who daydreams a lot about romance (for a bitter person)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTON❀⋆｡˚♡ ˚ ༘

It would be nice if you read this first, but if you wanna skip to the stories, that's okay. I will just sit in the corner and rock myself back and forth while hugging my knees thinking I shouldn't have written this part (jk)

Hello readers!

This account is quite new but I've been writing stories here before. But they were all fanfictions of fandoms I'm not a part of anymore so I decided to make another account to make something that includes my original characters.

As I want to start over my writing career, but with many story ideas in mind, it stresses me out. How I can restart my journey here? Which of these stories will get me going without it leading to an unfinished story?

As a writer, I have many ideas in my head. And as a writer who also has parents who don't believe you can make it if you pursue arts and literature, I have low self-esteem and I overthink my stories a lot of times even If I am aware that it's good. Sometimes when I feel stressed due to writer's block or anything really, I lay down and close my eyes, thinking of random scenarios I can have with my imaginary girlfriend--I know, corny and silly Friyn being stupid and craving for love--and it feels good. Sometimes, I tend to even put them in my stories. So I start to write them, using You and I pronouns instead of making up characters (and most times I end up imagining them while sitting on a chair in front of a blank Google Docs screen with my eyes wide open which sometimes scares the shitballs out of my fam) (sorry little sis) and that's how I thought about it: why not just write about these stupid scenarios instead while you're still trying to figure out your Wattpad story?

And I do be-do-be-do agree!

So WELCOME ALL OF YOU! TO THE GAYEST BOOK YOU'LL READ! Or so I hope please gays I hope you'll like these.

WELCOME TO THIS WRECK OF A BOOK FILLED WITH MY CRIPPLING STARVATION OF LOVE AND FEAR OF LONELINESS! This collection may consist of things more than stories but also short letters for lovers as well as love songs I write when I'm in a mood. And guess what? THEY'RE FULL OF FLUFF! So send some of your faves from here to your girlfriend or crush or just send it to yourself, pretend someone else gives it to you and you start to do that wiggle dance thing with your feet while you're laying on the bed.

Well maybe I'll slip in some tragedy on the way because 1. we need to balance things out, 2. who doesn't love a good surprise? and 3. I am quite evil sometimes. I'm that person who will give you all the ice cream flavors you want and then as you are about to eat them, I take it and make you watch me eat them all as you cry in agony (If you're upset about number 3, please don't take it seriously I'm sorry don't go I need you-)

What's fun about this book as well is that I might put some of these scenes in some of my stories like they're easter eggs! Won't that be cool eh? Oh...You...You don't think so? Do you think it's just me being kinda lazy to write different scenes that's why I take some that's in here instead? Yeah, you're kinda right...

Anyway!! Enough blabbering! Enjoy this gay book, gays (and straights, I guess, but especially the gays)

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

About the author: Things you need to know about Friyn: is your typical stressed student by morning, and a typical stressed writer by night; They keep talking about how gay they are and how they love women; They also keep talking about writing despite avoiding it for a few months; Their main genre is romance despite being a bitter romantic; It's them, their stuff toys, procrastination, unfinished stories, and ice cream against the world.

To all sapphics out there, this is for you

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

SCENARIOS: A Sapphic Romance Collections is now ON WATTPAD:

I will be posting these parts on Tumblr soon so stay tuned loves <33

[scabopolis]

Omg congrats on 600 followers! Honestly any fake dating with Jonah x Amy would be amazing, although I love number 44 and/or 48 on your Google Docs <333

This is my first Jonah x Amy fic and I offer two caveats: 1) I’m still not sure if there is a particular vibe people who read for this pairing preferring, so...here we are, and 2) I have only made it through 4x12 of Superstore but am pretty familiar w/ what happens the rest of the series. 

Prompt: “You know we’re not actually dating, so why did you propose to me in front of my family?” / “I’m sorry, I panicked.” --- Title: the scene of the complication Fandom: Superstore Pairing: Jonah/Amy Other Characters: My crippling insecurity writing for a new fandom, sleep soft mornings, dumbs being dumb (but, like in a cute way) Additional Tags: friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, alternative universe where Amy’s HS pregnancy test was negative and she and Jonah met in college Word Count: ~2,100 ---

It started with a chance meeting ten years ago, and somehow it’s brought Amy Sosa here: awake in her childhood room with Jonah Simms beside her, sleeping off upwards of half a dozen tequila shots. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew that day they met in the lecture hall that Jonah was a person who would make her life exceedingly more complicated. 

And ten years later, here they are, practically leaving complicated behind in the rear view mirror. 

(“What are two hopes and one fear you have for your first lecture on your first day of college?” the guy sitting to her right asks. 

Amy doesn’t answer at first but this stranger just waits for her, all blinking, bright eyes and freshman eagerness. It’s barely morning. Is this her life now? 

“Hope one,” she says, holding up a finger, “that I’d sit next to someone quiet. Hope two,” she holds up another, “that no one would talk to me before I managed to find coffee.” She holds up a third finger. “And this moment right here is what I feared.” 

For some reason, her shortness delights him. His smile is open and affectionate, and he nods in appreciation. 

“Noted.” 

And Amy fully intends to never speak to this wide-eyed panda boy ever again, but then their General Psychology professor informs the class that the person they’re sitting next to will be their assignment partner for the semester. 

The next lecture her partner – his name is Jonah, she learns – brings her a cup of coffee and doesn’t speak a word until she takes a long sip. 

Complicated.)

Jonah snuffles in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly. His hair is doing that thing it does when he’s hot or drunk or has run a hand through it too many times, where a single lock of hair hangs in the middle of his forehead. Amy resists the very real urge to brush it away. Because, yeah, she has those kinds of thoughts a lot and they also make things complicated. They’re friends. Maybe even best-friends, but definitely not ‘tenderly brush a lock of your hair away’ friends. 

Do those kinds of friends even exist? 

Jonah stirs again, and now that it’s clear he’s actually waking up, Amy reaches for her phone and opens Candy Crush. The last thing she needs is to get caught staring at him like some weird stalker.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his voice scratchy. He stretches out with another groan, his foot bumping against Amy’s as he does. Rather than move away, he kind of just rests it there on top of hers. And this is something she is all too familiar with. Drunk and/or hungover Jonah is yet another complication. More accurately, his propensity to cuddle indiscriminately is a very real complication. 

“I need—” Amy reaches for the glass of water on her night stand and hands it to Jonah, stopping him mid-thought. “Do you have—?” She hands him two ibuprofen. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone. 

Jonah swallows the two pills and drinks the entire glass of water, and then lays back down, curling slightly into Amy’s side.  

“I made so many mistakes last night,” he says.

“I’m aware. As are your 80 Instagram followers.” 

“I liveblogged it?” 

“And tagged everything with the hashtag ‘best noche ever.’” He groans again and turns his face into Amy’s side. She sets her phone back on the nightstand. “What got into you?” 

“Your dad is intimidating.” 

“My dad?” 

“Yes. Your dad. And then he and your brother kept pouring me shots—” 

“I knew this had Eric’s fingerprints all over it.” 

“Well, it was kind of my fault, too.” 

She frowns. “What do you mean?” Jonah doesn’t answer and Amy kicks him under the covers. He looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed but also so sleepy and soft. Complicated. “Jonah.” 

“They kept asking me questions. About you and me. And I was so worried I’d say something wrong, I kept taking shots to avoid answering.”

“You could have found me.” 

“I know, but—” he trails off. 

“But what?”

“I want them to like me.” 

“Oh, Jonah.” She gives in and brushes the lock of hair off his forehead, and he looks up at her. “They’ve known you for 10 years. They’re never going to like you.” 

“Thanks, I feel so much better.” 

“I do have one more question.” 

“Okay.”

“You know we’re not actually dating. Right?” 

He closes his eyes and nods. “No. Yeah. I know.” 

“So why did you propose to me in front of my family?” 

“I panicked.”

“Panicked?” 

“Your dad asked what my intentions were, and there were just so many shots. 

“And that’s why you shouted ‘I intend to marry her!’?” 

Jonah flips the comforter over his head. “I just got wrapped up in it all.” His words are muffled from under the comforter.

She’s glad for the moment of respite, with Jonah unable to see her. If Amy didn’t want things to careen so off track, she probably shouldn’t have agreed to let him come to her dad’s retirement party as her fake boyfriend. 

(“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jonah says, spooning more cashew chicken onto his plate. “You don’t still have feelings for Adam, do you?” 

“No. No. God no,” she says. “Absolutely not.” 

“Alright. I’m clear on the no.” 

“It’s just the last time I saw him— Well, you know.” 

“I recall, yes.” 

And he does. Jonah knows all about Amy’s high school boyfriend. The one she liked but never quite loved. The one she broke up with when the pregnancy test came back negative. The one she slept with again the summer after their senior year of college. 

(An event that occurred in no small part because Jonah was dating Mindy and the two of them were talking about moving in together. Maybe moving to the west coast together and Amy realized there was a very real possibility she was going to be left behind. 

Jonah doesn’t know that part of the story.) 

Adam is also the guy who thought having sex in her childhood bedroom meant Amy wanted to get back together. He’s the guy bringing his very beautiful fiancée to her dad’s retirement party. Because he’s also somehow the guy who still helps her dad with home improvement projects. And Amy is just Amy – the one who doesn’t visit St. Louis enough, and is using her very expensive liberal arts degree to work as a survey researcher for Cloud9, meaning she’s basically paid to manipulate shoppers. 

And, not that it should matter, but she’s also very single. Has been for a while now. 

She mostly blames the man stealing chow mein from her plate for that. She blocks Jonah’s chopsticks with hers, and a piece of cabbage goes flying. 

“Stop that,” she says. 

“You’re not eating it.” 

“I’m too annoyed to eat.” 

“If you only ate when you weren’t annoyed you’d starve.” 

“I hate you.” 

She pushes the chow mein around her plate. God, when she thinks about it, this really is Jonah’s fault. If she could just find a way to get over this stupid, dumb, little crush that has creeped up – without her permission, mind you! – then maybe she could actually—

“I could do it,” Jonah says, interrupting her thought spiral. 

“Do what?” 

“Go with you to your dad’s retirement party. Be your fake boyfriend.” 

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea. Besides, I am very close to getting your dad to like me.” 

“He’ll never like you.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t like the painting—” 

“—How would this even work?” she asks, cutting him off. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think we act like we normally do, but maybe you can hold my hand and be nice to me.” 

“Eww.” 

Jonah smiles around a large bite of cashew chicken. She really needs to stop hanging out with him so much – he’s become immune to her insults. It’s rude. 

And him as her fake boyfriend is a terrible idea. Truly awful. If Amy is looking to get over her crush and make things between her and Jonah less complicated, there are better ways to do it. 

Except. 

Except she kind of wants to. 

“Okay. Let’s do it,” she says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” she says decisively. “But if you try and kiss me, I’ll cut your lips off.” 

“That seems like a proportionate response.”)

“So, to be clear, I told you kissing wasn’t allowed, and you thought that left proposals on the table?” 

He groans again from under the comforter. It’s a little sad and a lot pathetic. Poor guy. 

She pats the comforter in the area of what she hopes is his shoulder. As annoyed as she is at having to untangle these threads, it’s not his fault. Not really. She knows her family is relentless. Amy slides down and flips the comforter over her head as well. 

Jonah rolls over onto his side to face her. Amy does the same. 

“It was better than Adam’s proposal.”

“Adam proposed?” 

Amy nods. “Ish. If I remember correctly he said, ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’”

“Yikes.” 

“Right?” It’s cozy under this blanket. Intimate even. “You did say some nice things. Even if they came out kind of slurred.” 

“Amy—”

“Sexy, huh?” 

“I really didn’t mean to shout that to all of your dad’s—”

“Because it’s not true?” 

“No!” Jonah winces and Amy isn’t sure if it’s ‘I have a hangover’ induced or ‘I am revealing too much’ induced. “It’s true. Of course it’s true. You are very, you know.” 

“Sexy on a completely objective level? Or, are you saying that you, yourself, Jonah Simms, think I’m sexy?” Jonah goes completely still. Amy isn’t even sure he’s breathing. It’s entirely uncharacteristic and a little unnerving. She pokes his cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Big time, yeah.” 

That does enough to break the tension under their blanket enclave, both of them laughing, at first awkwardly and then more genuine. Once they stop to catch their breath, Amy notices they’ve shifted closer together. 

This would be the perfect moment to flee from the scene of the complication. But the complications don’t seem so terrible at this specific moment. She blames that lock of hair of his.

“How long have you held this opinion?” Jonah frowns at Amy’s question. “Regarding my sexiness?” she clarifies. 

“Amy—”

“What?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I just want to—”

“Really? You really want to have this conversation?” 

Jonah stresses the ‘you’ and Amy knows why he does. There isn’t a topic or feeling that is off-limits to Jonah – he’d happily discuss every feeling he’s ever had. It’s her. It’s always her. 

Their faces are so close they’re practically sharing the same pillow. It takes no effort at all for Amy to close the distance between them, lightly brushing her lips against his. As quick as it began it’s over, and even in the dim light under the comforter, Amy can see Jonah’s eyes blown wide. She’s sure she looks just as shocked and she’s the one who did it.  

“You said if I kissed you you’d cut off my lips.”

“Which is why I kissed you.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Makes sense.” Jonah taps out a slow but erratic rhythm against the side of his leg. She just knows he’s trying to stop himself from verbalizing every single thought in his head. “To be clear, was that a friendship kiss, or—” 

So Amy kisses him again. This time Jonah recovers quickly from his shock, winding a hand into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. It’s just unbelievably good. 

“Okay,” Jonah says, his voice unsteady as he pulls away. “That answers that.” He traces her jaw with his thumb. “Any chance we could do it some more?” 

Amy rolls onto her back, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so.” 

“Wait. What?” 

“Your breath is awful.” 

Jonah breathes into his hand and sniffs it to confirm. “What if I brush my teeth?” 

Amy sighs, long and exasperated. “I suppose that would be—”

Jonah is out of the bed in seconds, scrambling for his overnight bag, and Amy presses her lips together to hide her smile. From the way Jonah smiles, soft and delighted as he backs out of the room, she isn’t fooling anyone. 

So far past the point of complicated, she thinks, her heart still racing. But then again, maybe complications that make her feel like this are okay.

[skyladoragono]

Tagged by @spell-cleaver, just getting it done now because Tumblr is dumb with notifs.

How many works do you have on AO3?

39

What’s your AO3 total wordcount?

914,622

How many fandoms have you written for?

On AO3, 7 (counting Star Wars/Mando as all one fandom). I know I've written for more, but a lot of them are still on FFN, or disappeared from the Internet.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Legacy, Family is a Funny Thing, Wanted it to be a Game, Influence of Time, and Legacy II

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tried to for awhile, but I couldn't keep up with it, and I was running out of things to say. I felt stupid struggling just to say thank you, so I stopped.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

From a Certain Point of View can be angsty, depending on how the reader interprets the ending (I left it open ended for that reason). Feelings Carved on Japor was made retroactively angsty thanks to canon. Wanted it to be a Game was angsty throughout, but ended up with more of a bittersweet ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I used to, a lot. I have plots for some new ones (like I want to mush Star Wars and MCU together and see what happens), and I'm kiiiiinda doing a crossover with Bram Stoker's Dracula right now, though it's more inspired by that, as it's going to go off the rails in a couple chapters. Right now the only notable ones that are still out there in some form and worth mentioning are my YGO/HP and P4/FNaF crossovers.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah; someone tried to argue the physics of time travel on Influence of Time with me (which trying to argue physics with me is hilarious on its own, but for a fictional thing? Like wtf dude), and then they hit me with, "Well Vader WOULD NEVER" and I proceeded to ignore them.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

*nervous laughter while side eyeing the tentacle smut fic*

Oh uh. I write it a bit.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, once. Back in ye olden days where I was writing my YGO/HP fic. The person was lifting whole passages and tweaking a few things because "they liked my fic so much and wanted to flatter me" or some shit like that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone started translating Legacy into Russian, but they only did the prologue.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I'm doing that right now with Influence of Time, but it's more my bff is throwing crack ideas at my head and I write it down. She also does the editing, which is a huge help.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Right now, it's DinLuke. I've shipped so many different things in the past though.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh, right now that could be anything. My brain is absolute mush right now, and trying to get into a doctor to get my head examined is like pulling my own teeth with tweezers.

The one that would be like this regardless though is my P4/FNaF crossover. I'm in the middle of the second part , and there's supposed to be a third, but burnout on top of the FNaF creator being an absolute pud isn't helping.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my characterization is pretty good, as well as developing the plot.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My own confidence, or lack thereof. I have so many fics written or half started that will never see the light of day because I don't like them, not to mention my crippling fear of putting something original out there. I don't think I'd be able to stand it if something I slaved over was found objectively bad in every possible sense by the greater public.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It depends on if I want the reader to know what's being said or not, or what character's perspective I'm writing from. If I put the text in the actual language, it's because it will come out later what it means (see the last few chapters of Family is a Funny Thing). Otherwise, I tend to just write it out in English, but use different quotation brackets to indicate the speaker is talking in a different language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Uhhhhh... technically, Disney's Beauty and the Beast. The animated version. Back when it first came out.

Deliberately writing and posting on the internet, though... pretty sure it was Yu-Gi-Oh.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

You're making me pick my favorite child what?

Man, idk; Wanted it to be a Game still has a soft spot in my heart. Part of me wants to go back and edit it a bit, now that I'm not really planning to write the sequels that I originally wanted to, but eh.

Legacy is my baby right now though; I'm putting so much effort into that series, I can't help but love it.

Uh... tagging whomever wants to do this, I guess? idk I think anyone I would tag has already done this.

[childotkw]

This has been bothering for a while and idk who to ask but you, since you've been open about your real identity/original works - I've been toying with the idea of writing fanfiction, and it's been nagging at me horribly that the tomarry/harrymort fandom is a super controversial pairing, I guess I'm paranoid but I wanted advice on how you deal with the alignment of your fanfic/published works? I want to try publishing too and, the idea it could be connected to my fanfic interests scares me T_T

Hmm, I completely relate to this, darling.

Firstly, thanks for asking. This is a very intricate topic, but I will try to explain my views on it as best I can.

So. Writing controversial pairings is always going to be a minefield. In fandoms it is relatively safe to say what you ship and not face any backlash – depending on which circles you frequent and how determined you are to keep your fandom experience away from those select few that start shit. Finding likeminded people in the bubble of fanfiction is pretty easy too.

But in the big wild world, surrounded by people who haven’t spent years of their lives entrenched in fanfiction and fandom-culture – it’s scary. There isn’t that undercurrent of tolerance, as many people do find out when they admit to ships they enjoy or a character they like, and are ridiculed by the masses for it.

This disconnection is terrifying. And let me tell you, I struggle with it daily.

The knowledge that once I publish a book, any separation between my original work and the fanfictions I write will be gone is difficult to combat against. The notion that absolute strangers that don’t have the fandom and fanfiction context might look at some of the things I have written, and start judging me, is crippling some days. It makes me not want to write at all.

And I feel like this is a pervasive notion in my generation, and the generation before me. This fear of being seen. For all the surge of Instagram and Youtuber fame – people are inherently afraid of being known. That’s why we use filters, that’s why we fall into new crazes, that’s why platforms that allow us to present certain facets of our personalities are so dominating. We love the anonymity of being known only in certain degrees.

I’m certainly not as nice as I show myself to be online when I talk to you guys. Sometimes people send me asks that absolutely infuriate or irritate me, but I always try and respond at least politely because what if people realise that I can be mean? The fear never goes away, and it influences a great deal of how I present myself. I’m not lying, I’m just not telling the truth either.

Getting back on topic – this idea of people finding out what I’ve written, and the type of pairings I enjoy, makes me uncomfortable. For so long, I refused to even tell some of the people closest to me what I was writing or who the pairings were. There is this sense of shame that clings to fanfiction, almost.

Publishing a novel would put us out there in front of the world in a way we aren’t necessarily with fanfiction. It’s putting ourselves into the spotlight, and essentially opening ourselves up to take more hits than we could potentially handle. After all, there’s no way to know what people are thinking or feeling or saying about you – and that loss of control is incredibly daunting.

Now, I realise I have just made this sound super bleak, and I apologise for that. But I’ll swing this, I promise.

For me, personally, taking the step and actually putting myself out there on my tumblr – with my full name, with my photo, sharing the snippets of my original work – was so incredibly difficult. The fear I spoke about earlier was overwhelming, and even though I knew that my followers were all wonderful and supportive people, I was still terrified of backlash.

I only took that step because of my sister.

She was the one who told me, point-blank, that if I wasn’t prepared to be known and seen as Jordan Christison, then the chances of me achieving my dream of publishing a novel might not happen. She told me that I was my own worst enemy in this scenario, and that while yes the world is a scary place, and the chances of being torn down would always be there, if my passion and love and dreams were worth anything to me, then I would need to overcome this.

So, my biggest piece of advice really boils down to what my sister told me. You need to decide if pursuing your dreams and goals are worth opening yourself up to the potential of ridicule from strangers.

One of the best quotes I have for dealing with this fear is:

“If you’re not in the arena getting your arse kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.” – Brené Brown

And that’s the approach I take to my writing. While I appreciate all the comments I receive, and the overwhelming support from my readers, there are very few people that, in my eyes, can make me question my own skills and abilities. Do I accept constructive criticism? Yes. Do I accept baseless hate from people who don’t seem to understand how difficult writing is? Not really.

If, by publishing a novel, I get hate for enjoying the pairings I do and writing the fanfiction I have, I will persevere. I am not ashamed of what I have done, because every single word I write has helped me build my skills and improve on my techniques and made me a better writer. If, in the future, a reader or fan of my original work stumbles across my fanfictions and tries to make me feel embarrassed or guilty for it, I will laugh because those stories they might think are disgusting and wrong are the entire reason they got to read my original novel in the first place.

I’m not sure if this really answered your question, or gave you the advice you needed, but this is how I deal with the knowledge that people are inevitably going to connect me with my fanfictions. I hope this helps in some way, darling 💜💜

[seijorhi]

ask answering :)

So I know I’ve been kind of shit at answering my asks over the past few days, and I’m also nervous about clogging up everybody’s feeds, so have a bunch of general asks under the cut 💕

I could and would happily read an infinite amount of iwa/oikawa soulmate content their dynamic is so interesting not to mention they are both babes and I just love the way you write them

Ahh thank you! Honestly I was never that huge of an Iwa fan until recently, and now he lives rent free in my brain constantly - to the point that whenever I’m writing an Oikawa fic, he almost always finds his way creeping in. I just love their dynamic, and I think in terms of a yandere team up, they’d be terrifying together. You’re definitely gonna see more Iwa/Oikawa stuff, even if it’s not in the soulmate verse

Love your writing so much 🥺💕💖💗👌🏽🔥 every time there’s an update I feel like it’s my birthday

I try to get as much content out as i can for you guys, I’m glad you look forward to it - this is honestly so sweet!! 

Ajagafahshs Home is amazing! You’re a genius in describing the setting and atmosphere. I love how eerie it felt!

I’m still so soft over all the lovely comments for Home. It’s a bit different to my usual yandere fics in terms of tone and everything - and I’m always more nervous posting my own stuff instead of requests because they’re a little more personal, so thank you so much!

Hi hewwo 🖐️ same yandere timeskip Oikawa anon here!! Disappoint?????? Girl never, I'm pretty sure all your other followers can agree but your writing is the bee's knees??? Literal chef's kiss!!!! Just know my heart and wallet are always open if you ever take commissions ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

First of all, you’re legit making me blush and that’s just rude! 

Lmao, obviously kidding, but thank you for being such a sweetheart! As for commissions... we’ll see 👀

I GOT GOOSEBUMPS WHILE READING YOUR NEW SCENARIO. YOU ARE AMAZING

I’m a little surprised that it got such a big reaction? It was supposed to just be a little bit of a drabble for Like Nobody Else because the lovely anon who asked the question kind of got me thinking. It’s not really a ‘sequel’ more just a snippet, but it low key blew up. I shouldn’t be surprised that y’all are as thotty for Iwa and Oikawa as me haha, but I’m glad you liked it, bby!

How did you start getting into yandere?

I honestly could not tell you. I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything but I genuinely do not remember the first ‘yandere’ fic I read or even what fandom it was in. Tbh I think I’ve been into it for a long time, before I even really knew what the term meant, or even that there was a term for it. I’ve just always kind of gravitated towards darker ‘romance’ and that kind possessive, obsessive dynamic. Sorry, I know it’s kind of a non-answer but 🤷🏻‍♀️

Your ideas are not stupid and I'm gonna fight anyone who says so! ❤

Bby, no need to fight anyone, just my big dumb brain. Today has been one of those days - crippling self doubt, writer’s block and anxiety make for a shitty combo, still I know I shouldn’t say stuff like that.

👉🏻👈🏻 just popping by to say I LOVE Mr. Perfect. All your writing is beautiful but oooof Yan!Kuroo just hits different <3

ASDFGHJKL thank you!!! Do I have good news for you! Plenty more yandere Kuroo to come! Mr Perfect is one of my faves - I just wanted to see jealous, manipulative ‘in love with his best friend and manager’ Kuroo go apeshit 😌 

don’t ever apologize for writing what you want instead of requests! I really admire how you take on anon requests and so many of them but you don’t owe writing to anyone. I love your writing and your big brain ideas (and longer fics because I am whore for any and all of your content)!!!

I still want to write requests, but with those requests comes a lot of pressure, not just in how many I have (which is partially my own fault, I get that) but also because even though 99.9% of them are anonymous, the fear that I’m gonna disappoint is always there. Also there’s a lot of characters and situations that I want to write for that I just don’t have requests for - but at the same time I don’t want people who sent stuff in getting mad because they think I’m prioritising my own fics over theirs. I already have people sending in asks hounding me for updates about when I’m gonna answer their specific request which kinda makes me  👉 👈

but NE WAY thanks for the sweet comment 💕

[chillin-at-partys-bar]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme

fill out & repost ♥  This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO (Though he’s only in a few panels, I think he ends up being many people’s first fave?)

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO 

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO

Are they underrated? YES / NO (I think he’s very nicely rated, but also parts of him need more attention)

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL 

How strictly do you follow canon?

I try to follow what is known at the moment. I’ve done math to figure out when people would be joining his crew, and I try to stick as close to canon as I can. However, we don’t know a lot about him or his crew honestly, so I end up supplementing a lot of my own things. I do have an intense, crippling fear of being wrong so I try to only make safe headcanon guesses even though I know most people won’t care. Also, I'm not a huge fan of no women seen so far on his ship so I just... adjust some things and stick my OCs there. I have a feeling I know part of why there aren’t any women, and I don’t like it even if it fits in with sailor and pirate lore, so I’m just gonna fix that bit. Shanks is so decent otherwise. 

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.

Shanks has a lot of different parts to him. He’s great because he can get along with most everyone for an evening of drinking. He doesn’t care who you are, and he’s really hard to upset but he can definitely troll other characters very well. He’s kind and will rescue your character from certain death if need be, but he’s also strong and will challenge them if they threaten those he loves. He can be a really fun character to ship with as he loves very hard and people mean a lot to him. So if someone writes with him he is guaranteed to have strong thoughts on yours and will be more than likely to call them a friend by the end of the day. He’s also very attractive and good with kids, so that’s nice. He’s very much a pirate too, so if you want a pirate for your story but you don’t want the kind that will strike you down, he’s a great option. He’s forgiving too so you can screw him over and he’ll find a way to forgive you. Maybe. Depends on the kind of screw up. He’s also got a long range in terms of moments to play in his life, some really dramatic canon moments and some headcanoned ones. So it’s very possible to write with kid, teen, young adult, and adult Shanks. 

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?

It can be a bit difficult to create conflict with Shanks. Although it lets him pull off some great crack moments and have some great fun chaos, it also means that even powerful antagonists are hesitant to challenge him or fight him. Or even bring harm to him as canonically it means starting a fight with the Red Hair Pirates - which it’s also canon that not many are eager to do. This means a lot of the threads end up being talking or verbal threats as the opponent may make threats or Shanks will threaten but he doesn’t feel action is warranted unless action is done against him or a friend (if that makes sense). And even then circumstances mean a lot. I’d love to be able to play more physical rps and put him in more harrowing positions, but it’s difficult with how powerful he is and his reputation. 

What inspired you to rp your muse?

I actually really, really like pirates. I have some books on pirates and I’m really drawn to stories about pirates. A long, long, long time ago I had just read a cheesy romance novel called To Catch a Pirate and I really wanted another book where the pirates weren’t necessarily the bad guys. I was volunteering my summers at the library at the time and they had the first volume of One Piece. I set my sights on Shanks and never looked back. He’s just everything I crave in a pirate story. The dashing rogue with a heart of gold, you know. So I was sold. 

What keeps your inspiration going?

I think just the character and the new interactions that we get to come up with. Also, he’s a really unique character to rp culture as well. He’s insanely powerful, which is something that is more frowned upon with creating OCs for better or worse. Also, because he really won’t abuse this power except for like, something silly, I get to really play with him. I feel I also get to help people play with versions of their characters they haven’t been able to play before. Characters who are used to strong-arming and violence to get their way suddenly can’t do that, because Shanks is too powerful. So they have to come up with another way to express themselves and seeing these muns work with their characters to figure that out is really fun. 

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you do your character justice? YES / NO

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO

Do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?

I’m going to be honest. I really need to steel myself for criticism. I’m a perfectionist to the point where it’s really, really bad sometimes and I have walked away from a character because one person said they didn’t like how I played them. I try to go back to that character but I just can’t really. RP is fun for me, and I want this world to be a place where I can feel free to do what I want. So I prefer no feedback here. 

In before someone says “but criticism is how you grow” - okay. I get that. I really do. I’m a graduate student so I’ve had feedback from teachers. I have a few writing groups where I get feedback on my creative work. I get feedback on things that are meant for a larger audience and I get the feedback often. It hurts a bit but I am getting tougher. A few weeks ago, my group ripped apart (in the nicest way possible) a comedy sketch I was proud of. It took a bit to get over but now it’s better than before. 

So here I might not open things up for critique. I don’t really want to hear it (I accept positivity because I’m a jackass like that). If you don’t like how I write Shanks, that’s fine. Please don’t tell me and leave me be and let me do this my way. If you want to critique something of mine, let me know and I’ll give you a short story, some character notes for a book, one of my sketches, my sitcom pilot script, or my full-length movie treatment, hell I have a 2500-3500 word reflection essay for my grad program due next week so read that. Those- feedback, yes please. I need them to be stellar. This? No. Shanks is my toy and I’m here for fun not to worry and stress and get anxious about posting.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

I accept questions! I also accept questions asking about my decisions. Those I don’t view as criticism and working through my thought process can be helpful. Some answers might not be as complete as others but I definitely do accept them!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?

Not really. I don’t even want to know they disagree unless it’s a huge problem. I had a disagreement over a headcanon once get super out of control and the person got angry with me so... I really don’t want to know. Unless it’s something significant I guess? But I can’t think of anything that would be of that magnitude. I just want to have a good time. Please just let me have fun my way and if you really hate it, just write Shanks yourself and let me be. 

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

I don’t want to know. This is the theme here. Just don’t tell me. I don’t see the point in telling me you don’t like how I write. I am very sensitive sometimes and I’m working hard through therapy and my own work to not be so sensitive, but I’m just not prepared for that sort of feedback here. In my writing groups, yes - definitely prepared for disagreement and push back on decisions. Here? No. Please no. If you hate my version of the character that much, please just block me. Or just vanish into the abyss. Don’t tell me. I will try to avoid being sad about it but I will not be successful. I know it’s not great and I really don’t want people to try and tell me to get over things like this because I know I need to and I’m working on it but gyah. Now I’m upsetting myself, haha. i cry easily guys. 

Some people: i don’t care if the truth hurts. I’d choose the truth over a lie any day. 

Me: no just fucking lie to me if you have to tell me something. let me be ignorant here.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

I’m sure some people hate Shanks. And that’s different from hating my portrayal. He’s not my character, so whatever you want to do go ahead and hate. I don’t like a bunch of other characters in the world. Just remember whenever shitting on a character, and this is something I learned while interning at Marvel this last year: every character is someone’s favorite. So in Marvel that meant you had to treat every character with respect. Even if it’s like, Electro in Spider-Man - he’s someone’s favorite character so treat him with respect. That doesn’t mean let him get his way, just don’t treat him like junk or a filler. 

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

See above with “trouble making mistakes.” Also, but why?

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?

Wow, this whole thing makes me look difficult - doesn’t it? I’m really just here for fun and to enjoy myself and have a good time writing. I do think I’m pretty laid back about things, I don’t have triggers and I’m really forgiving about mistakes. If someone needs to talk to me about something technical that’s fine and I love hearing ideas. I just also want to keep this as a place for fun, you know? I want to make sure I’m not afraid to come on here and write some things, so I just try to make it a space for me to be comfortable. 

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

➸  Tagger: @godlivesonthemoon and @seraphiixa ((thank you guys so much!!))

➸ Tagging: u and ur face

[unordinary-analysis]

Episode 132

Best *clap* chapter *clap* ever

Okjnskfjhskjhfikjhgjsikhg I can barely tybe right now. I’m s h a k i n g.

Honorable mentions:

Happy that Leilah’s coming back

Also i thought she was at work not at some beach vacation wth

Where’d Elaine go? She just disappeared.

There’s this one specific panel in this episode about halfway through that’s a view kind of through John’s eyes and he has Arlo’s shirt grabbed with both his hands. Yeh, that one. I just noticed that Alro looks like he’s about to cry.

Because I don’t know how to put my ideas forward in any other way, I’m going to be doing a compare and contrast kind of thing. First, I will talk about John’s side and his argument. Then, Arlo’s. I’m so excited lets go.

Before reading know that in each section, I talk in favor of their mindset. So stuff I’ve written will be true, but will only be half of the story as I would have written the counter-argument in the other person’s p.o.v.. Don’t just read the John section and come after me with how great and right Arlo is. I already know. Please keep reading. Thank you :)

John’s point of view:

John’s argument (? i don’t know what to call it): John is v e x e d because of a few things. Firstly, he’s angry at Arlo for not telling him that he was looking for Sera. Next, he says that it was totally okay for him to beat up Isen. He’s mad because Arlo wouldn’t let him step away from the calm and quiet life he had built for himself. Lastly, he’s angry with Arlo for praising the hierarchy, but at the same time, not listening to John, who is according to Arlo’s rules, a higher authority. As a final statement, John says that he will ruin down Arlo’s precious hierarchy just like Arlo ruined his life (not his exact phrasing, but I like to make things dramatic). That’s a lot of stuff to get into, so let’s get started.

When Arlo turned down John’s request for help in his search for Seraphina, he decided to do his own investigation. Thing is, he didn’t tell John and the whole time that Arlo was finding out information, John was running around desperate to help his friend and one of the only people that could help him and the one that had figured out the most had already turned him down and deliberately done his own search. I would be pissed too. I mean really, Arlo was approached by John and asked if they could combine their powers to complete their mutual goal. But, nooo. Arlo had to deny him and do it himself, also doing his best to inconvenience John.

In regard to Isen’s beating, John has a point. In the past, Isen has lied to John, rudely invaded his privacy and stalked him back to when he was at New Bostin, and hurt John. Despite everyone’s mutual love for Isen (the fandom, not the characters lol), he kind of deserved some sort of beating. His actions are sneaky and self-serving. Isen is thought of as the poor cinnamon bun that is always put in the middle of things. Digging up dirt on John, becoming head of the newspaper, the whole superhero thing with Remi, looking for Sera. But in truth, Isen is put in many of these situations because of his own actions (mostly Arlo’s but even then, John’s side becomes more powerful). True, when requested by Arlo to investigate John, he could hardly turn it down, but the extent that Isen takes his interrogation too was uncalled for and unprofessional. He asked invasive questions and went after John without a thought for the guy. He was only put in charge of the newspaper because Arlo knew he could control Isen and the two could conspire together. He knew that Isen would easily give up information and would leak false information because Isen had ambition to lead the newspaper and Arlo had granted it, but also because Isen has tried to obstruct information in the past to secure his own well-being. Though many of the poorly thought up plans and questionable conspiracies he’s been a part of have been conducted by others, Isen always holds a little blame. His actions are usually always self-preserving and sly, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but because of the harm his actions have indirectly caused, Isen is in no way innocent. I know I went pretty off topic, but I just really wanted to say this. So yeah, Isen kind of deserved the beating….

Also dealing with his beating, technically John is a higher tier than Isen and high-tiers are practically encouraged to establish their authority over those weaker than them. Arlo’s whole problem with John is that he doesn’t, but is John not doing just that when he attacks Isen? Is he not acting like how Arlo thinks he should?

Also, when Tuesday first approaches John, he refers to it as a rank-match. If this qualifies as a rank-match there’s really nothing wrong (kind of similar to above point, but still gotta say.

Finally moving along lol.

Now we’re at the part where John gets mad at Arlo because he disrupted his perfectly peaceful life as a cripple for the belief that all high-tiers should have to be in charge and are separate from everyone else. John isn’t kidding with this. Arlo seriously walked right into John’s life because he hung out with Sera, a god-tier, and Arlo didn’t feel that this was right. That’s it. The whole reason. Arlo didn’t like that Seraphina was hanging out with a low-tier and that’s how this entire drama started. And John had really tried to step away from the high-tier life. After the disaster at New Bostin, he knew that if he ever was in charge again, he wouldn’t be able to put himself in check. He’s already gone through the royalty bullshit system. He tried that already. And he discovered that he couldn’t handle it, not because he was weak or didn’t want the responsibility, but because of what it did to the students around him. John gave up on the hierarchy because in his experience, it brought out the worst in everybody. It brought out the demons in him, it’s brought out the need to be perfect in Seraphina. When he was last involved with the hierarchy, bad stuff happened. John stepped away from that life, he stepped into the light. He was prepared to live life treated as a cripple, spat upon and looked down on to protect himself and others. And everyone was happy! Until Arlo came and ruined it all because he didn’t like his friends hanging out with the riff-raff. Until he ruined it all by invading his privacy. Until he ruined it all by demanding that John come back to the system that ruined his life.

You would think that after all that, Arlo would at least respect the system today. He would understand that there are two parts to the hierarchy that he promotes so much. According to the hierarchy, Arlo has to listen to John. I’ve already covered this briefly when talking about Isen, but now I’m doing it again (brief again too sorry). John tells Arlo as much; that he has to listen to him, but when it’s addressed, Arlo calls it trivial! So I guess the system is only important when Arlo says it is, huh?

We’ve reached the near end of John’s perspective, but there’s one last, and very important, thing to say. John said he was going to break the hierarchy. I have no idea what this is gonna mean. I don’t think he’s gonna reveal himself, but maybe he’ll use his new influence/fear as Tuesday to mess with the students or maybe he’ll do something with Cecile. Whatever it is, I’m hyped.

Not as hyped as I am to write the Arlo section tho ;) (segway).

Arlo’s point of view:

I’m going to address all of the points made above. Because I’ve already explained them above, I won’t go into as much detail, I will just list a reason or two as that supports Arlo’s arguments.

1.) Arlo not telling John that he was looking for Sera

- John was a complete asshole and by agreeing with him and aiding John in his search for Seraphina, that seem to others that Arlo agreed with things John did or that he listened to everything he said, which would ruin the hierarchy. So because of his hatred for John, his pride, and his protectiveness over the hierarchy system, Arlo could not morally help John.

2.) The Isen thing.

- John attacked his friend seemingly for his ability alone! Even if Isen had been a prick to John, he definitely took the beating way too far.

3.) Why Arlo doesn’t listen to John

- He’s an asshole

- He never properly dethroned him and claimed the throne, leaving Arlo as rightful king

- He’s got more important stuff to worry about

- Some of what John is asking is destructive to Wellston and Arlo won’t stand by that

And now, John’s biggest argument: (which i will go fully into)

Arlo’s love for the hierarchy and what it did to him, John, and everyone around them.

When Arlo was younger, he looked up to someone. This person was a role model to Arlo and inspired him. This person was Rei. Within the first two years of Arlo coming to Wellston, Rei was made king. He proposed all of these ideas about equality and self-worth. He told everyone that they mattered and that they belonged. This was a change from any previous king and the students were new to the concept. With Rei’s constant encouragement, they began to treat each other as equals and friends. High-tiers got along with low-tiers and everyone believed in themselves, believed they had something to contribute. Arlo, being a high-tier was introduced to the idea that everyone around him is his equal and that they could all be friends. Because he looked up to Rei, he didn’t question it, just accepted that everyone was happy now. Arlo believed in that system. And so he helped Rei bring up the low-tiers.

Things were going great, until one day, the low-tier realized something. Because Rei said they were all equal, they could do anything they wanted! Suddenly low-tiers were picking fights and trying out for turf wars. If the high-tiers could, why shouldn’t they? Problem was; they were weak. Rei’s insistence that they were equal didn’t change the fact that they had little ability. Soon, low-tiers were getting hurt, hurt by their misconception that they could do anything that the high-tiers could and hurt by the king that introduced them to that misconception. In the end, Rei’s reign did more harm than good, despite his good intentions.

Arlo lived through this. He saw what happened when you gave false hope and he knew what happened when people got confused. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Rei did, that he would honor Rei’s memory by learning from him. And so when Arlo was promoted to king when Rei graduated, he decided that he would abide by the hierarchy previously used before Rei stepped up. He wouldn’t let Wellston fall into chaos again. He wouldn’t let Wellston down. The low-tiers would be treated as such and the responsibility was handed to the high-tiers. Inconvenience on both sides is better than ruin on all sides.

Things are going great. High-tiers are setting examples, low-tiers aren’t getting unnecessarily hurt. Then one day, this new kid shows up. Arlo is only put onto his scent because Elaine tells him that he hung out with Seraphina and Arlo considered her a friend (he didn’t have many considering his position cold demeanor). So he looks into it and is appalled at what he finds! John is supposedly a low-tier, a cripple even, but he acts like he’s the king! He isn’t afraid of the high-tiers, hangs out with Seraphina, the school’s ace, and has no regard for the rules. He acted exactly like low-tiers did when Rei was king. Arlo panicked because he worked so hard to fix Wellston, worked so hard to impress Rei, and then John showed up, threatening to unravel all his work. He remembered what happened when Rei was king and knew what harm an arrogant low-tier could cause.

And so Arlo dug deeper, getting Isen to look into John’s past and personality. Maybe there was something different about this kid, maybe he was just a rarity that had a larger ego than normal. Maybe he wasn’t such a big threat. But when Arlo found out that he wasn’t a low-tier messing up the system, he found another problem. He was a high-tier.

Arlo has stricter rules for high-tier than low-tiers. Though low-tiers will always be there and will always have to be counted on to know their place, high-tiers are the ones who are supposed to tell them where they belong. High-tiers are supposed to be the enforcers and have lots of responsibilities. Even under Rei’s rule, the high-tiers had the most responsibility! It was a must. High-tiers were born with a gift and they had to use it to help the greater good. Whilst John thinks that helping the greater good means being nice to everybody, Arlo knows that helping the greater good is giving everyone a place, it’s letting people know who they are and where they belong. Arlo won’t stand for a high-tier neglecting his responsibilities and at the same time confusing the low-tiers. Because of this, Arlo just couldn’t leave John alone. For the sake of Wellston, for the sake of sanity, and for the sake of order.

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

sorry this is late, but theres a small hiatus so hopefully it doesn't matter too much ;)

[heartofsnark]

Get To Know The Writer

I was tagged by the lovely @lin-ful, just so you know. You’re another writer who I follow on my personal account and who’s work I’ve loved since before I started writing for the kbtbb fandom. 

1. It’s the end of the world (?). You don’t feel fine. You need to burn books to stay warm. Which book off of your shelf burns first?

Bye-bye textbooks. I actually don’t have a lot of narrative books on my shelves. While I was an avid reader, I was also a poor kid, now I’m a poor adult who acts like a kid; character development! So, the public library was a good friend. I really love my for fun books I do own, so textbooks go first. 

2. If your writing could convey a message that you think desperately needs to be heard, what would be it?

Uh, I think the biggest thing I think I can effectively communicate that those in the fanfic writing community could use is that, this is suppose to be fun. I know for me personally; it can feel really easy to get caught up in writing what pleases others, trying to meet perceived expectations, trying to force yourself to be productive, or whatever. Validation and praise is incredible, one compliment can make your entire day,  but if you lose sight of what makes writing fun for you, is it really worth it in the end? So, write what you want and don’t get to caught up in what gets the most notes. If there’s passion behind what you’re doing, you’ll find the people who appreciate it.

3. Has an OC ever said something that surprised you? 

Yeah, as strange as that is to say since it is an original character and I control them. I am a bit of a write by the seat of your pants kind of person, my plots has changed literally paragraphs into the work. So, sometimes I’m caught off guard by the things I write.

4. Do you collect things writing or reading related? Something that supplements your ~process~? 

I am an office/school supply hoarder. I love writing on paper, before I move things to my computer. I have way too many pens, notebooks, sticky notes, binders; literally the second I get my refund money for college, I am go to the office supply sections. I even have one of those little desk organizers and it’s overflowed. I also have a cat shaped sticky note holder.

5. A celebrity author you admire loves one of your books and their praise will appear in the next edition. Now they’ve written a new book, but… it wasn’t your cup of tea. Their publisher wants a blurb about it. Do you tell the truth, or manufacture polite praise? 

I’m not about to rain on anyone’s parade. Like, have you seen my writing? Who the hell am I to shit on anyone else’s work. I also prefer honesty. If it was like 0/10, I could not find a single positive, I would just tell them I couldn’t write the blurb, get someone else. Otherwise, I would just find the positives. Even if the plot isn’t my particular jam; are the characters good, is the dialogue good, does it flow well, etc.

6. BOOM, MAGIC! You are sucked into one of your worlds. The only way to break the spell is to convince at least three OCs that you are their creator and the creator of their world. How would you try to do it?

Who says, I want to break the spell? Ever thought about that? Uh, but legit, it depends on which oc/mc. I’m gonna break the prompt a bit and have 3 MC’s/OC’s from 3 different worlds. Because they’re my favorites.

Regan, my Supernatural OC, would be the easiest to convince hands down. Just by virtue of her being from the Supernatural universe. I would tell her and she’d just be like, “Yeah, fucking probably.” Nothing surprises her at this point. There is literally a plot like this with Chuck in SPN. She’d just throw her hands up in the air and say fuck it.

Haejin, my Mystic Messenger MC, would tell me she believes me even though she wouldn’t; just to get rid of me. I would have to legit, recount her entire backstory to her, then she would just be too freaked out. Like, depending on at what point in her story she’d be at, she’s like asking Jumin for bodyguards. My OC would put a restraining order out against me, if needed. 

Tsuneko, my Kissed by The Baddest Bidder MC, would not be having any of it. She’d just be like; “I don’t have the time or energy for this; did the bidders put you up for this? I’m gonna kill them.” She’d be over it and if I kept bugging her; she’d probably threaten me or call security. I’d probably end up having to convince the bidders to convince her; I’d go for Baba, because the rest of them would be mean.

7. You’re stuck having one of your original villains over for dinner. How does it go?

I don’t think I have a lot of original villains, I tend to use the villains of whatever world I’m writing for. There was Camael, an angel villain within my  not written Supernatural  fic world, which angels don’t eat. So, I doubt she’d come over for dinner.

If it’s okay for me use canon villains. I apparently have a thing for blonde cult leaders. 

Rika is a horrific human being; but she’s a pretty lady, have you seen her bad end in V’s route? Dear god, she flusters me. I could listen to her ramble about paradise, I’ll tune her out and look at her pretty face. Then ask Jumin to send his police forces/security out to arrest her. Never tell V and Yoosung, how much I was attracted to their abusive ex and cousin. I have a fear kink, so villains get to me, I don’t think I would act on it in the reality, but it’s a temptation.

Within KBTBB, Mamoru would hate me forever, but, Aida isn’t a bad looking man. Obviously, he’s a bad man, but he’s easy on the eyes. Again, listen to crazy cult ramblings, make fear kink related goo goo eyes. Then call Mamoru to come get him, before I make a terrible decision. I don’t know why this became me thirsting over cult leaders, but here we are.

8. Has writing benefited you in any way?

Definitely, writing has benefited me. I’ve met people through it, I’ve gained confidence through people’s positivity, I’ve gotten to vent and express some of my issues. I think literally any writer will tell you writing benefits them, otherwise they wouldn’t be a writer.

9. You discover that whatever you write about comes to pass/becomes reality. After securing your own comfort, what do you write?

All financial problems for me and my family are solved, first thing. Not necessarily rich, but enough to always be secure and enjoy life. Second, I become thinner and prettier, cause while it shouldn’t be confidence, is often tied to physical appearance and mine is awful. Third, I  instantly have my masters degree in social work, I have a job I am happy and secure in that still gives me enough time to write and enjoy my hobbies. Last, all of my biases come into existence and I get to be at the center of the best poly-amorous relationship in the history of the universe.

10. Chosen pen name? 

My blog username….? I don’t really call myself anything special. I’ve said what my actual name is on here, I think you guys know my name. Do you all know my name? It’s on my about page, but that can’t be trusted, cause hellsite. I don’t really care that much about what you all call me. You can call me by my first name (It’s Mariah), you can call me by some variation of my username/url, call me fuckface for all I care; what do you want to call me? Go for it, unless it’s something really fucked up and troubling, I doubt I’ll care. I like to think that despite my borderline crippling anxiety disorder, I’m a pretty chill person.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it? Like, if you haven’t done it yet and want to, go for it.

[silver9mm]

I was tagged (months ago?) by my best bat-friend @exaggeratedspecificity to name 15 songs that I love, and I was really inspired by her emotional stories behind her choices so I thought I’d put a little effort into mine, too. 

But the thing is, when I start thinking back to songs that mean something to me, like super personally...well, sometimes I just don’t want to remember things. I got really sick when I was 11 and now it’s systemic and chronic, and it turned me schizophrenic starting about age 16 and that lasted for another 15 years. Music, literally, kept me alive. It was my best friend, the one thing I could trust. It was how I found validation for the fucked up things I was seeing and the way I felt. It’s how I spoke to the outside world---anyone who knew me then got at least one mix-tape from me, sometimes dozens. I would take lyrics and write stories about my friends with them. I had to go home and get lyrics down on paper instead of going to parties. When I rode the train cross-country, I lugged my 300 disc CD book the whole way, clutched to my chest. I kind of want to be buried with my headphones in but I’m a little worried I’ll wake up from being dead when the battery runs out.

Anyway, in the last few years...basically since I discovered Supernatural, music has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Life in general has changed. It’s better. It’s more fun, more interesting. I’ve found a creative outlet, and especially concerning music, I’m not slathering my experiences, my insanity, my feelings of loss and isolation and paranoia and confusion all over it. I’ve learned how to step outside my little fear-bubble and enjoy music from a whole new angle. So I thought, instead of going through my 130 gigs of music and forcing myself to think about those songs that I love for personal reasons and thus scratching at emotional scars and scabs of my real life, I’d do something more fun for me and pick my 15 favourite songs that exemplify my 15 long Supernatural fics, because since I’ve been writing, my life has improved by leaps and bounds and there’s not a single traumatic memory attached to the experience.

That was really long-winded.

With You by Matt Simons: This is from the soundtrack to Sense Of Life, which is my first published fic. I’m so glad I wasn’t really ‘in the fandom’ when I wrote this, because I never would have had the guts to write it if I’d known how much most shippers don’t like OFC. I would have worried too much about Mary-Sue’ing or whatever whatever. What I wanted to write about was giving the boys something to love, and then taking it away from them, because if they aren’t hurting, what’s the point? So I gave Sam a separated-at-six-months twin sister, and Dean a sick angel, then I gave them reasons to all get naked in a room together, because little did I know, Plot Productive Porn™ would be my go-to writing device. Anyway, looming over the whole fiasco is John Winchester’s A+ parenting, which sets this story up in the first place, and I was so gleefully fulfilled when I randomly heard this song somewhere while writing the fic. I was like, yesperfect.

My job to control you, darling, though I barely know you, hoping you grow tired and start giving in. Spout of holy water pour it on my only daughter maybe there's a shot she'll begin again. So wrong

Lucky With Disease by Elbow: I think this would be Crowley’s favourite band. That said, this is one of my most favourite wincestiel songs and is perfect for Wash It Away---the first fic I wrote, and it shows. A few OOC things, but I just went with what I picked up from the light smattering of gifs that had crossed my dash---I hadn’t even seen a single episode of the show yet. My least favourite fic, but still...it’s not terrible, and I love the dynamic of hurt-angry!Dean and fixer!Sam and Cas falling somewhere in between, willing to do whatever it takes to help. I definitely stuck to the first two characterisations for the rest of my writing. 

Fell like a crippled crow Spinning through and breaking branches I'm in a bad way Call my friends, they'll know what to do

Not as handsome as my brother But I've been lucky with disease

And yes, I'm a better friend Than I've ever been a lover And that's not saying much But I'm not saying much today

Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless: In some different timeline, all I’m doing is writing Megstiel. But Never The Same is all I’ve managed and it’s typical---crazy!Cas and caretaker!Meg, bees, honey. Okay, honey as lube and bees around quivering nethers, but that ‘oh what the fuck okay fine’ sentiment is there that I always loved so much about Meg. 

I had everything Opportunities for eternity And I could belong to the night Then your eyes Your eyes I can see in your eyes Your eyes You make me wanna die I'll never be good enough You make me wanna die

Adolescence by Brown Bird: Rise Above It is my goriest fic to-date, and the sort of weird, sinister nature of this song seems perfect for it. Another wincestiel fic in the same vein of WIA but I think I got the characters down a little better. Dean can’t stand himself and thinks he hates Castiel for caring about him, and Cas, par for the course, makes things worse trying to make it better, but Sam knows just where to dig into the bloody mess to get it all right again. 

So long adolescence of the frightened soul You're entering the ritual Lay down your every fear upon the altar child Prepare to play the man's role

Stay strong the sound of screaming's just the sacred rite Of death begetting new life

We are here but for the grace of everything divine It's the providence that we must find

If (don’t ever blame yourself) by Last Days of April: People who can write early-season wincest are my heroes, okay. Dean’s a different animal now, isn’t he? I’m not even remotely suggesting he’s better one way or the other, just that he’s harder for me to grasp in the first couple of seasons. Harder for me to find his voice, and I can’t even say I really ‘got it’ with The Dawn Breaks...because I don’t fucking remember writing this fic at all. I have no idea where it came from, but it’s dark and dirty and Sam is toeing the line of making himself into the same monster that hurt Dean in the first place, but in the end, he pulls it off.

If it is hard to bear I'll hold the weight If there are things you ain't I'll compensate But you should never blame yourself Put the blame on everybody else 'cause they don't see what I see If no one understands I'll understand

Lovers’ Eyes by Mumford and Sons: ngl, the entire soundtrack for Becoming Less Defined is my favourite song. I fucking nailed it with these songs: perfect combo, perfect order, perfect atmosphere, but this song in particular showcases my particular obsessive trope here. I’m so fucking proud of this ’verse, and I’m climbing the walls to get back to it and finish it. I can’t leave omega-tainted!Dean and Wall-crumbled!Sam and sweet, insane omega!Jensen in limbo. I mean, there’s actual Purgatory to get to, after all. 

Were we too young, our heads too strong To bear the weight of these lovers’ eyes I feel numb beneath your tongue Beneath the curse of these lovers’ eyes But do not ask the price I pay I must live with my quiet rage Tame the ghosts in my head That run wild and wish me dead

Complicated Shadows by Elvis Costello: It’s hard to get Dean alone sometimes, but this song really conjures up that early-season hero that I was talking about before, and writing Turn In Early was supposed to be just a little jerk-off fic, some imaginative Deancest, but because I’m the worst, it’s all slathered in gentle pain. 

Well you know your time has come and you're sorry for what you've done You should've never have been playing with a gun In those complicated shadows Well there's a line that you must toe And it'll soon be time to go But it's darker than you know in those complicated shadows

John’s Star by The National: A reminisce fic, Dean’s B.S., 2001 is a rare moment of self-reflection for Dean, but he’ll only go so far back. I love the idea of Stanford-era!Dean, sidelined, a captive audience, listening to music he probably would never on his own terms, and hearing lyrics that just fucking hit home. There’s nothing explicit about this fic, no overt wincest, but it’s there, especially with songs like this.

I don't ever want you to come home again I don't want to hear your call, your voice in my room I am divine, my arms are stronger than rivers And when you feel that way, you want to feel that way again Forever

Once ruined, baby you stay ruined

Evidence by Faith No More: The sleaze that undercurrents all of Mike Patton’s music is perfect for Dress Me Down, a jealous!Jensen J2/Genevieve blackmail fic, because you can just hear Jensen lying to himself through the music. 

If you want to open the hole Just put your head down and go Step beside the piece of the circumstance You got to wash away the taste of evidence Wash it away Evidence, evidence, evidence Got to taste evidence I didn't feel a thing It didn't mean a thing Look in the eye and testify I didn't feel a thing Anything you say, you know you're guilty Hands above your head and you won't even feel me You won't feel me

Sedated by Hozier: I would normally pick Great Expectations by Elbow for this, but the dangerous, powerful carelessness of this song fits Something To Share just as well. Schizophrenic, self-destructive and self-harming!Sam and totally out of his depth!Dean make deals and promises to each other and I just really, really love this fic okay leave me alone I’m fine. 

You and I nursing on a poison that never stung Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it Somewhere for this, death and guns We are deaf, we are numb Free and young and we can feel none of it Something isn't right, babe I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin I'm somewhere outside my life, babe I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in So we're slaves to any semblance of touch Lord we should quit but we love it too much

Knock Me Out by Linda Perry: Back to my a/b/o ’verse with Between Two Minds, and we find poor Dean, omega-tainted and feeling like he can’t be loved, finally, finally starting to trust his little brother again.

You knocked me out You bit my lip You held me down and kept me sober Through all this time With no regret I guess that's just the way I liked it Maybe, when I'm free I'll realize all he really wanted To share all the peace Something I never wanted So wait, don't go Seems as though it's getting scary So please, don't you go

Feels Like by Buck 65: A song no one will listen to for a fic that no one reads. Dreamy, plinking piano for a fic that started out as a dream. My favourite artist with my favourite ending I’ve ever written. Give Buck and A Steep Fall a chance.

She found the lost boy, eyes that are crying closes Glad to be unhappy, boy gives her dying roses Ecstatic agony and nights of arousing glories Hungry hearts and hands that tell ten thousand stories Open wounds and the one word that filed under Her endless eyes have known hardship and wild wonder Kisses that cure and moments that cured the kiss Under a spell and maybe there's no words for this

I Drove All Night by Roy Orbison: The Mixtape Thing wasn’t supposed to be a fic, but I had to talk about why the songs were picked for the prompt ‘date night at the MoL Bunker’, and suddenly there was a sweet little wincest fic. Yeah, ‘sweet’. My fans were very surprised too. 

What in this world Keeps us from falling apart No matter where I go I hear The beating of our one heart I think about you When the night is cold and dark No one can move me The way that you do Nothing erases this feeling between me and you

Tell Me by Moby ft. Cold Specks: An alternative ending to BLD, But Then Again is the best thing I’ve written so far. J2/wincest/abo and so fucking full of angst and longing and good goddamn is it dirty. I’m so proud of it and myself for pulling it off, and even if I lose two more friends over it (i’m not bitter i’m very bitter), it’s still wonderful in my mind. 

Didn't have the heat I gave you memories Come deeper please I got nowhere to stay tonight Won't you make me stay? Keep your clear eyes on the prize And as I'm there Bring me to your knees

Baby Blue by Wolf Parade: Kill The Lights is the one unfinished fic on this list but I’m so close it counts. Fifty-nine songs to choose from. Five playlists. Over 100,000 words, and choosing one song to represent this brutal MCD fic is easy. Since it’s written from Sam’s POV, some of my favourite songs are the ones I imagine from Dean’s, and this is perfect. 

You're like a fool on fire To the water so blue I will come undone And I will run to you Sometimes we are an open flower Sometimes we are an open wound Sometimes we are a kind of echo chamber, wherein You're all fire and brimstone And I'm all that, too Burning blue for you

LISTEN

tagging @zmediaoutlet @omgbubblesomg @theboringprincess @chiisana-sukima @hazeldomain @indigoneutrino @dreamsfromthebunker  @bruisedmickey and anyone else who wants to do this (and if you’ve already done it, no worries ;) 

[seakittens]

Retconning Tachibana Makoto: A Heavier MakoRin

So this is probably the rough draft of a larger essay I plan on doing to explore what’s happened to Makoto’s character since the end of the TV series. Both Haruka and Makoto have received several character tweaks, starting in Staring Days and carried into Bonds and the Free novelization. While some of the tweaks made to Haruka in Starting Days were  awkward, I think Makoto has suffered the worst from  the changes. I refer to these changes as retcons since they affect the canon we already know (High Speed, Free and Eternal Summer) and alter our perception of various events and motivations. It remains to be seen how much they will affect future material since massive character development in Eternal Summer would render much of these changes moot. But they do affect how one understands characters, particularly their relationships with one another.

For this first dive, I will be focusing on the Makoto/Rin relationship since it is my favorite Makoto relationship and I feel that the retcon has affected it more than any other. That said, even Makoto/Haruka has been affected by these changes.

Please note that as I am very attached to MakoRin, this essay will get negative because MakoRin has not fared well under Makoto’s new handlers at KyoAni. I have done my best to maintain balance so this isn’t nothing but a miserable mess, but this is your warning. Also spoilers for Promises and the Free novelization.

Of all the things KyoAni has done, the critical changes they have made to the Makoto/Rin relationship hurt me the most. Because even with all my salt toward Starting Days all but ignoring Rin, it hadn't damaged Style 5. The Free novel actively damages MakoRin, turning Rin into a  constant source of anxiety for Makoto instead of a friend he wants  to help. 

Novel!Makoto is obsessed with Haruka and only Haruka and barely has an interest in the rest of Iwatobi, as seen in pretty much any scene that involves Rei or Nagisa and Makoto. It’s an ugly change that messes with so many things I enjoyed about Makoto. Especially him being friends with the group because they gave him courage. Novel!Makoto has no courage (yet) and dreams of a world where he doesn't have to deal with Haruka facing the harshness of reality. One where Haruka  will be the same forever. Where nothing will change for them. Even at the end of the novel, Makoto only accepts Rin's place in Haruka's life and Haruka's own future path as inevitable. But I wouldn't say it feels particularly  positive from his POV. This overall change in Makoto's character inadvertently (?) casts shade on crucial MakoRin moments in season one, making the phone call from Episode 2 more about Haruka's needs than Makoto reaching out to Rin. While Novel!Makoto understands Rin’s value to Haruka, he is terrified of losing the life he’s always known with Haruka, as seen in his dream at the start o the novel, where Haruka and Rin are leaving him behind in the water. Rin is a force that frightens Novel!Makoto, to the point that he  dreams of a world where Rin hasn’t changed their lives, where Rin and Haruka don’t meet at the train station that December day. 

Whereas initial interpretation of the MakoRin relationship in Free lent itself to seeing Makoto as worried about both Haruka and Makoto, Novel!Makoto clearly prioritizes Haruka and feels lost around Rin. As much as Novel!Makoto still wants Rin to be  happy, as seen in an added  scene of Makoto hearing Rin laugh with Ai, he does not think that he (and by extension, Haruka) can be part of that yet. Again, a lot of Novel!Makoto’s issues with Rin  revolve around fear. And while we’ve always known that Makoto had his fears, the novel takes this to another  level. Rin is best kept at a distance.

Now, this isn't to say the novel does the same to Rin. I would say that Rin still cares deeply about Makoto and views him as his friend. As we know from S1, Rin has always cared about Makoto, even worrying about him swimming at the beach. The novel doesn’t change that. But it's harder to say that it's always gone both ways with Makoto. In fact, even in existing canon, Makoto seems oblivious to the concept that Rin can prioritize him (despite things like Rin setting up Makoto’s birthday). This is something that is actually addressed in ES, especially the new material in Promises. Makoto is genuinely surprised by Rin's interest in his future, believing that he is low priority compared to Haruka. He expects Rin to view him as  peripheral to Haruka, as Makoto views Rin as peripheral to Haruka. This is a sentence I hate to write, but every Makoto POV in the novel confirms this. Makoto’s focus is Haruka and only Haruka. He’s simply too scared to step out of his comfort zone.

Also, this isn't to say Makoto doesn't change. The whole point of Makoto's arc in Eternal Summer is his character development. And I think it's clear that Makoto is, on a whole, more at ease with Rin after S1, responding to silly calls to help with a kitten or even calling him to ask about a relay. I know many have pointed to how easily Makoto and Rin seem to communicate with one another via phone, unlike the rest of the cast. But I think now, knowing what I know about Makoto, that those conversations are primarily about joint team stuff and not so much casual conversation. 

I don't think Makoto’s entire character development regarding Rin comes until near the end of the season, when he calls Rin to ask for help with Haruka. In this moment, especially in the new scene in Promises, Makoto is showing that sees Rin as a positive force in his and Haruka's lives, that he trusts that Rin can do something he cannot do and he's all right with that. It’s all right if Rin takes Haruka out of Makoto’s life because Haruka  is following that path without even realizing it. It’s what Haruka was meant to do. This  is a huge scene for Makoto and for MakoRin. And I think it's vital to their relationship development, given this new take on Makoto via the novel.

This isn't to say that this Makoto retcon is wrong necessarily. There's nothing wrong with making a character messier than he appeared. It's nice to see a Makoto who isn't the pure angel fandom portrays him as. This new take on Makoto shows him to be a bit more selfish, more wary and more insular. He’s just  as afraid of change as Haruka, just less aware of it. He can be friendly but Haruka will always come first. We started to see more of this, with Makoto’s behavior in Starting Days. And the assumed knowledge that despite his growing friendship with the Iwatobi Middle School team, Makoto abandoned them when Haruka quit the team. Overal, this is a more complicated take on Makoto than what was originally presented.

But it also means that MakoRin fandom can no longer hold onto its long-held claim that MakoRin understand each other better than anyone else in the show. They clearly don't, at least not on Makoto's side. I do believe Rin understands Makoto more. I think Rin, to an extent, does harbor some jealousy at how Makoto can connect with Haruka in ways he cannot due to their long friendship. But I also think Rin is more actively aware of those feelings and therefore they don't cripple him as Makoto's do because Makoto actively represses them. It makes their relationship complicated and messy in some ways. Which again, is not necessarily bad. It's just not what made me fall in love with MakoRin. And I do believe that by the end of ES, they are in a position where they could have a strong and meaningful relationship because they do bring out the rarest sides in each other. Makoto just needs to be more honest with Rin and with himself about his feelings so they can finally move past this unspoken wedge between them and see each other for who they truly are. Makoto is no angel and Rin is no untouchable god force who exists only to throw everything into chaos.

I suppose I just miss the pureness and fluff of MakoRin when Free originally ended. It didn't have all these messy parts. It was just two friends who really cared about each other.  Now, it's a bit more one-sided on Rin's part. And while depth and dimensions are nice, sometimes you just want something cute.

I do hope the ES novel addresses Makoto's changing relationship with Rin in more depth since it's such a massive focus of the Free novel. I doubt Take Yoru Marks will. But I think this is important to hear in Makoto's own words how things have changed since S1. Maybe then KyoAni can give meaning to this retcon of Makoto’s character.

I also wish KyoAni would stop confusing character development with angst in Makoto's case. Giving Makoto more angst doesn't really improve his character. The same goes for Sousuke.

Overall, I regret this retcon more than anything else KyoAni has done since the series ended its TV run, and it has probably made me more bitter toward Free than I have been in the past. Because MakoRin was my fluffy joy. And now it's a lot more messy and I have to get used to that. I wish Makoto didn't have to suffer in KyoAni's struggle to make him more relevant. I hope to see things that will make me feel better about this change.

I will tackle what the Makoto retcon  means to the Makoto/Haruka and Makoto/Iwatobi relationships at a later date. 

I’ve been a long time since I did meta and I’m a little rusty so feel free to challenge where you may.

[syntheticaesthetic]

50 More interesting questions

Rules: fill this out and tag at least one person you’d like to know more about! Or just fill it out! Or don’t! Answer only some of them! Make up your own questions! “What kind of requirement is that”, you ask? A reasonable one! Who am I to tell you what to do? Anything goes!

I was tagged by @praxid!

1. What kind of food can’t you stand?: I’m sort of picky about texture. Not big on things that are sort of gelatinous - so no jello for me. I’m also not big tropical fruit person so I don’t like pineapple or most melons.

2. If you could choose one minor inconvenience to never have to deal with again, what would you pick?: Brushing my hair. It mats up while in a braided bun as I sleep. It takes hours to brush out. 

3. Have you got any useless talents?: I don’t have any talents really.

4. If you could be really really good at one thing, what would it be?: Film/photography/writing.

5. Name a few people you think are extremely good-looking: Melissa McBride, Sonequa Martin-Green, Andrew-Lee Potts, Kit Harrington, Karen Gillan, David Tennant, Scarlett Johansson, Jamie N Commons, Danai Gurirra, Donald Glover, Milla Jovovich, Tatiana Maslany, I should top. I find lots of people pretty. 

6. What was your favorite way to pass the time as a kid?: Reading, interneting, hitting my brother with sticks and getting hit back.

7. What is something you’re proud of?: I decided I wasn’t going to let another student film festival go uncaptioned at my college. I was the only one who captioned every film and I don’t think anyone has captioned the film festivals since, but I know that there were a few students that were able to attend the festival I did because they felt welcome for once. Fuck the kids who bitched about the captioning, it wasn’t for you.

8. What’s one character flaw in people that you just can’t tolerate?: Lying. For fuck’s sake just tell the truth. Also, don’t be cruel or intolerant of people’s differences or differences of opinion. Fuck you, there’s room for everyone and everyone’s thoughts. 

9. Do you consider yourself to be more of a leader or a follower?:  I’m a leader when I feel I must be - if absolutely no one else will step up, but I much prefer being a follower.

10. What kind of student are/were you?: I worked harder than anyone else to achieve mediocre status. 

11. Butterfly effect question! Has there ever been a seemingly minor decision you’ve made (at the time) that ended up having a profound influence on your life?: I told someone I liked a wristband/sweatband they were wearing and we became fast friends. I picked a school based on school colors. I followed my roommate to an ASL club meeting because she wanted me to get out of the dorm. I got a tumblr hahah. Honestly though the people I’ve met on tumblr have saved me so thank you.

12. Name your most irrational fear/aversion: Eyes - I don’t like eye drops, people touching their eyes, eye things happening in movies. I don’t like spiders. I’m still a little afraid of the dark. 

13. Are there any fictional characters you find especially relatable?: Tim Wright,  Jay Merrick, Clint Barton, Abby Maitland, Connor Temple, VERONICA MARS, Jessica Jones, 

14. If you drink, what kind of drunk are you? Alternatively, what sort of person are you at parties?: I get the munchies. And giggly. And sleepy. And I desire Left 4 Dead. Its my drunk video game. 

15. Do you fall in love easily? Or does it usually take a long time for you to trust someone?: I fall in love with concepts. I fall in love with characters. I fall in love with every dog I meet. But I’ve never had the opportunity to fall in love with a person. I love my friends, but I think that’s a different question? 

16. Would you rather have one close friend or 100 casual friends?: One close friend.

17. Do you consider yourself to be more of a slob or a neat-freak?: I’m a neat-freak who has given up. Dog hair will never be eradicated. I don’t have the energy to clean the way I want. My mind is too chaotic and I need clutter around me or I feel uncomfortable. Weirdly enough I was watching a documentary on Carrie Fisher and her mother, and I saw Carrie’s house and went “that’s me!” It seemed that her house was that way because of her bipolar status. I’m not bipolar but I do have major crippling anxiety and I think I clutter and throw art and things all over the walls as some sort of comforting mechanism. I’m unable to decorate like Adults do - I can’t do minimalism. It stresses me out. 

18. Describe a place (imaginary or real) that you would find incredibly cozy: Pacific northwest. Woods near a big lake or the ocean. Older farmhouse with brick and reclaimed wood. I have a room decorated in my usual chaos. There’s a bay window big enough for me and Ruby to both be on it at the same time. Its raining and the fall leaves are piled on the ground. I have candles and incense burning. Good music. Maybe a friend sitting on the computer next to me. There’s coffee and marionberry pie. Its october and everything is foggy and spooky and gentle and calm. Its probably sunday.

19. Do you have kids? If not, do you want them someday?: I don’t have any human kids. I like them, I think they’re funny. I’d want some if I was confident in my ability to care for them and raise them right and take care of them in all the ways they deserve.

20. What was your favorite book as a child? Harry Potter. To find something that not everyone else my age would say....Everything’s Eventual?

21. Name one thing you just don’t get what all the hype is about: Undertale. Its fine but I can’t get into it in the way everyone else does. 

22. Name one thing that you think is tragically underrated: Films on YouTube by indie filmmakers.

23. If you had to be glued to a person for a month, real or fictional (who you have never met), who would you choose?: Andrew-Lee Potts during the early days of Keychain Productions. Blood On Benefits made me want to make films, and I think spending a month with him working on all those short films would have made me actually live my dream rather than giving up on it. 

24. What’s something you’d like the chance to do someday?: I want to make films. I want to write an original story. Maybe make a video game? I want to make something. Do some crafting. Meet someone and actually date them. I’d like to have a kiss at some point, to see what that’s like. Have friends that live nearby that I can see frequently. 

25. Do you typically speak your mind when you have a controversial opinion? Or do generally prefer to not rock the boat?: No! Opinions are dangerous and people don’t like having friends that have different opinions than them, and I’d never have friends because I either don’t share the same opinions or I don’t feel strongly about my opinions. I’m very open to having people change my opinions. I’m not married to them. Please change my mind, I like thinking about things in a new way. But I am not going to share my opinions because it just causes so many fights among people - I just don’t feel safe doing it. 

26. What’s the dumbest fad you’ve been caught up in?: I’m sure it was fashion related but honestly I don’t care to think too hard about it. 

27. What’s something you thought was cool as a kid/adolescent, but now cringe at yourself for?: Only doing eyeliner on my bottom lids?

28. What’s a trait you consider to be very admirable?: True empathy. The ability to have practical skills that help people. 

29. Is there a particular kind of item people always tend to give you as gifts? (For instance, people always get you things with ducks on them because you like ducks, etc.): Hmmm....nerdy things? I mostly get gifts from Tumblr friends because we share fandoms so while the fandoms vary its usually homemade things based on our favorite things. And bless you all for it too - As my mom could tell you I beam for weeks upon receiving your guys gifts! I wish I could repay the kindness!

30. Do you speak multiple languages? Which ones?: I can do some really basic ASL. I used to do some basic spanish but that was many many years ago and I don’t think it would come back easily.

31. Would you rather live in the big city or the countryside?: Woods, middle of. I need my million dogs and my lots of land and fresh air. 

32. Has there ever been something you were certain you’d hate, but ended up loving?: the MCU lol

33. Do you mind being the center of attention, or do you prefer the spotlight to be on someone else?: Being the center of attention gives me anxiety.

34. Favorite holiday?: SPOOKY SCARY

35. Are you a more go-with-the-flow type of person, or do you need to have things planned meticulously?: My anxiety demands I have plans. Now, those plans are allowed to change, but I need to start with plans. 

36. Is there something you loved so much you wish you could forget it and experience it all over again? (A tv show, book, series–anything.): No.

37. What hobbies do you have?: Internet. Fanfiction writing (hahahahahaha). Photography. When my hand heals I wanna do leatherworking.

38. If you could have a superpower, but it was only mildly useful, what ability would you want to have?: I just want to know what my dog is thinking. So a superpower that lets me know what dogs are thinking/saying?

39. Something people are always surprised to learn about you: Could someone answer this for me? Because I don’t think anyone’s ever given me feedback on this one. 

40. Something that took you way too long to figure out: That I needed to do something about my anxiety. It gave me so many health problems and kept me from living my life. 

41. Worst injury you’ve had?: I’ve slammed my head against giant rocks. Hurt my knee in volleyball.

42. Any morbid fascinations?: Weirdly enough, not really! Post-nuclear apocalypses maybe? http://althistory.wikia.com/wiki/1983:_Doomsday was something I spent weeks immersed in to the detriment of my mental health.

43. Describe your sense of humor: Sarcastic, bitter, shitty puns? 

44. If you had to be born in another era/place, which would you choose?: 80s? Goth scene, I could have seen Depeche Mode and The Cure in their prime. 

45. Something you are irredeemably bad at: life

46. Something that sucked but you’re glad you went through: Being a shitty friend. Now I know how to not be that shitty?

47. Would you rather have a really godawful ugly tattoo in a place that is only slightly inconvenient to conceal with clothing (upper arm, thigh, etc.), or the coolest, most beautiful tattoo ever in the middle of your face? (Neither tattoo can be removed or concealed with makeup, and the ugly tattoo will deeply offend anyone who sees it.): Gimme that face tattoo.

48. Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?: I like to think pessimistically so that if its true I’m not surprised but if it turns out better I can be pleasantly surprised!

49. What would be the most flattering compliment someone could give you?: That they genuinely loved me and that I made a difference in their life. 

50. Something you feel people often misunderstand about you: I don’t know........ How bone achingly lonely I am? Maybe someone can help me out on this one too. I don’t know if anyone really “understands” me - I don’t communicate my mindset well. 

I’m tagging: @gallifreystands @the44thpilot @autumnxtoxashes @ms-fagerstrom @marionarnold

[yainterrobang]

A Variety of Brains: Books with Anxious Main Characters

Welcome to A Variety of Brains. Are you looking for a neurodiverse book? I’ve got it listed for you. This week, I'm spotlighting anxious main characters.

A lot of these may not be good representation. It could even be most of them, but that’s not my call to make. On my last few major lists like this for YA Interrobang, I pulled any books I knew were problematic, but I hesitate to do that with this one, simply because neurodiversity in itself is incredibly diverse. Take, for example, the way that anxiety manifests itself varies from person to person.

Some experiences will feel true to some readers, but those same experiences could be triggering for others. I don’t want to deny anyone the chance to find themselves in the pages. Before picking up any of these books, please look at reviews, ask friends, make sure that what’s in these pages won’t harm you. I can’t tell you what won’t work for you, what will hurt you, and I can’t vet all of these books. Please, please be careful.

10 Things I Can See From Here by Carrie Mac Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers Release date: February 28 2017 Maeve has heard it all before. She’s been struggling with severe anxiety for a long time, and as much as she wishes it was something she could just talk herself out of, it’s not. To add to her troubles, her mom—the only one who really gets what Maeve goes through—is leaving for six months, so Maeve will be sent to live with her dad in Vancouver. Vancouver brings a slew of new worries, but Maeve finds brief moments of calm with Salix, a local girl who doesn’t seem to worry about anything. Between her dad’s wavering sobriety, her very pregnant stepmom insisting on a home birth, and her bumbling courtship with Salix, this summer brings more catastrophes than even Maeve could have foreseen

The Avery Shaw Experiment by Kelly Oram Publisher: Bluefields Release date: May 4 2013 The state science fair is coming up and Avery decides to use her broken heart as the topic of her experiment. She’s going to find the cure. By forcing herself to experience the seven stages of grief through a series of social tests, she believes she will be able to get over Aiden Kennedy and make herself ready to love again. But she can’t do this experiment alone, and her ex-partner is the one who broke her heart. Avery finds the solution to her troubles in the form of Aiden’s older brother, Grayson. He’s in need of a good tutor and some serious extra credit. But when Avery recruits the lovable Grayson to be her “objective outside observer,” she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for, because Grayson has a theory of his own: Avery needs to live. And if there’s one thing Grayson Kennedy is good at, it’s living life to the fullest.

Before She Ignites by Jodi Meadows Publisher: Katherine Tegen Release date: September 12 2017 Since the day Mira Minkoba was born, she’s been told she’s special. Important. Perfect. She’s known across the Fallen Isles not just for her beauty, but for the Mira Treaty named after her, a peace agreement which united the seven islands against their enemies on the mainland. But Mira has never felt as perfect as everyone says. She counts compulsively. She struggles with crippling anxiety. And she’s far too interested in dragons for a girl of her station. Then Mira discovers an explosive secret that challenges everything she and the Treaty stand for. Betrayed by the very people she spent her life serving, Mira is sentenced to the Pit – the deadliest prison in the Fallen Isles.

The Boyfriend List by E. Lockhart Publisher: Delacorte Books for Young Readers Release date: March 22 2005 Ruby Oliver is 15 and has a shrink. She knows it’s unusual, but give her a break—she’s had a rough 10 days. In the past 10 days she: lost her boyfriend, lost her best friend,lost all her other friends, did something suspicious with a boy, did something advanced with a boy, had an argument with a boy, drank her first beer, got caught by her mom, had a panic attack), lost a lacrosse game, failed a math test), hurt Meghan’s feelings, became a social outcast and had graffiti written about her in the girls’ bathroom. But don’t worry—Ruby lives to tell the tale. And make more lists.

Don’t Touch by Rachel M. Wilson Publisher: HarperTeen Release date: September 2 2014 Caddie has a history of playing games in her head to cope with her surroundings—but it's never been this bad before. When her parents split up, don't touch becomes Caddie's mantra. She knows it doesn't make sense, but her games have never been logical. Soon, despite Alabama's humidity, she's covering every inch of her skin and wearing evening gloves to school. And that's where things get tricky. Even though Caddie's the new girl, it's hard to pass off her compulsions as artistic quirks. Her drama class is all about interacting with her scene partners, especially Peter, who's auditioning for the role of Hamlet. Caddie desperately wants to play Ophelia, but if she does, she'll have to touch Peter . . . and kiss him. Part of Caddie would love nothing more than to kiss Peter—but the other part isn't sure she's brave enough to let herself fall.

Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad Poets by Evan Roskos Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers Release date: March 5 2013 Sixteen-year-old James Whitman has been yawping (à la Whitman) at his abusive father ever since he kicked his beloved older sister, Jorie, out of the house. James’s painful struggle with anxiety and depression—along with his ongoing quest to understand what led to his self-destructive sister’s exile—make for a heart-rending read, but his wild, exuberant Whitmanization of the world and keen sense of humor keep this emotionally charged debut novel buoyant.

Every Exquisite Thing by Matthew Quick Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers Release date: May 31 2016 Star athlete and straight-A student Nanette O’Hare has played the role of dutiful daughter for as long as she can remember. But one day, a beloved teacher gives her his worn copy of The Bubblegum Reaper and the rebel within Nanette awakens. As the new and outspoken Nanette attempts to insert her true self into the world with wild abandon, she befriends the reclusive author and falls in love with a young, troubled poet. Forced to make some hard choices that bring devastating consequences, Nanette learns the hard way that rebellion can sometimes come at a high price.

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell Publisher: St. Martin’s Griffin Release date: September 10 2013 For Cath, being a fan is her life—and she’s really good at it. She and her twin sister, Wren, ensconced themselves in the Simon Snow series when they were just kids; it’s what got them through their mother leaving. Cath’s sister has mostly grown away from fandom, but Cath can’t let go. Now that they’re going to college, Wren has told Cath she doesn’t want to be roommates. Cath is on her own, completely outside of her comfort zone. She’s got a surly roommate with a charming, always-around boyfriend, a fiction-writing professor who thinks fan fiction is the end of the civilized world, a handsome classmate and she can’t stop worrying about her dad, who’s never really been alone. For Cath, the question is: Can she do this? Is she ready to start living her own life? And does she even want to move on if it means leaving Simon Snow behind?

Finding Audrey by Sophie Kinsella Publisher: Delacorte Books for Young Readers Release date: June 9 2015 An anxiety disorder disrupts fourteen-year-old Audrey’s daily life. She has been making slow but steady progress with Dr. Sarah, but when Audrey meets Linus, her brother’s gaming teammate, she is energized. She connects with him. Audrey can talk through her fears with Linus in a way she’s never been able to do with anyone before. As their friendship deepens and her recovery gains momentum, a sweet romantic connection develops, one that helps not just Audrey but also her entire family.

Harmonic Feedback by Tara Kelly Publisher: Henry Holt & Co Release date: May 25 2010 Sixteen-year-old, music-obsessed Drea doesn't have friends. Having just moved to the latest in a string of new towns, Drea meets two other outsiders. And Naomi and Justin seem to actually like Drea. Justin, against all odds, may even like like Drea. It's obvious that Drea can't hide behind her sound equipment anymore. But just when she's found not one but two true friends, can she stand to lose one of them?

How I Made it to Eighteen by Tracy White Publisher: Roaring Brook Press Release date: June 8 2010 How do you know if you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown? For seventeen-year-old Stacy Black, it all begins with the smashing of a window. After putting her fist through the glass, she checks into a mental hospital. Stacy hates it there but despite herself slowly realizes she has to face the reasons for her depression to stop from self-destructing. How I Made it to Eighteen is a frank portrait of what it's like to struggle with self-esteem, body image issues, drug addiction, and anxiety.

How It Feels to Fly by Kathryn Holmes Publisher: HarperTeen Release date: June 14 2016 For as long as Samantha can remember, she’s wanted to be a professional ballerina. Then her body betrayed her. The result: crippling anxiety about her appearance. On her dance teacher’s recommendation, Sam is sent to a summer treatment camp for teens who are struggling with mental and emotional obstacles. If she can make progress, she’ll be allowed to attend a crucial ballet intensive. But when asked to open up to complete strangers, Sam can’t cope. With her future uncertain and her body against her, will Sam give in to the anxiety that imprisons her?

I Don’t Want to Be Crazy by Samantha Schutz Publisher: Push Release date: July 1 2006 When Samantha Schutz first left home for college, she was excited by the possibilities -- freedom from parents, freedom from a boyfriend who was reckless with her affections, freedom from the person she was supposed to be. At first, she reveled in the independence ... but as pressures increased, she began to suffer anxiety attacks that would leave her mentally shaken and physically incapacitated. Thus, began a hard road of discovery and coping, powerfully rendered in this poetry memoir.

Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephanie Perkins Publisher: Dutton Release date: August 14 2014 Hopeless romantic Isla has had a crush on introspective cartoonist Josh since their first year at the School of America in Paris. And after a chance encounter in Manhattan over the summer, romance might be closer than Isla imagined. But as they begin their senior year back in France, Isla and Josh are forced to confront the challenges every young couple must face, including family drama, uncertainty about their college futures, and the very real possibility of being apart.

It’s All Your Fault by Paul Rudnick Publisher: Scholastic Press Release date: January 26 2016 My name is Caitlin and up until forty-eight hours ago I had never: Tasted alcohol, kissed a boy, sang in public at the top of my lungs, kidnapped anyone or stolen a convertible. Now I’m in jail and I have no idea what I’m going to tell: The police, my parents, the mayor, all of those camera crews and everyone on Twitter. I have just noticed that: My nose is pierced and I have—WAIT? IS THAT A TATTOO? I blame one person for this entire insane weekend: My famous cousin. Who is also my former best friend. Who I have HATED for the past four years. Who I miss like crazy.

The Nature of Jade by Deb Caletti Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers Release date: February 27 2007 Jade DeLuna is too young to die. She knows this, and yet she can't quite believe it. Since being diagnosed with Panic Disorder, she's trying her best to stay calm, and visiting the elephants at the nearby zoo seems to help. That's why Jade keeps the live zoo webcam on in her room, and that's where she first sees the boy in the red jacket. A boy carrying a baby. His name is Sebastian, and he is raising his son alone. Jade is drawn into Sebastian's cozy life with his son and his activist grandmother on their Seattle houseboat, and before she knows it, she's in love. Jade knows the situation is beyond complicated, but she hasn't felt this safe in a long time. She owes it all to Sebastian, her boy with the great heart. Her boy who is hiding a terrible secret. A secret that will force Jade to decide between what is right, and what feels right.

The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness Publisher: HarperTeen Release date: October 6 2015 What if you aren’t the Chosen One? What if you’re like Mikey? Who just wants to graduate and go to prom and maybe finally work up the courage to ask Henna out before someone goes and blows up the high school. Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world, and sometimes you just have to find the extraordinary in your ordinary life. Even if your best friend is worshipped by mountain lions.

Shackled by Tom Leveen Publisher: Simon Pulse Release date: August 18 2015 After years of therapy, medication, and even a stint in a mental hospital, Pell’s finally ready to re-enter the world of the living. Pelly has been suffering from severe panic attacks ever since her best friend, Tara, disappeared six years ago. And her plan seems to be working, until an unkempt girl accompanied by an older man walks into the coffee shop where she works. Pelly thinks she’s seen a ghost, until the girl mouths “help me” on the way out, and Pelly knows she’s just seen Tara.

The Smaller Evil by Stephanie Kuehn Publisher: Dutton Books for Young Readers Release date: August 2 2016 Arman Dukoff is struggling with severe anxiety and a history of self-loathing when he arrives at an expensive self-help retreat in the remote hills of Big Sur. He’s taken a huge risk—and two-thousand dollars from his meth-head stepfather—for a chance to "evolve," as Beau, the retreat leader, says. Beau is complicated, but more than anyone he's ever met, Beau makes Arman feel something other than what he usually feels—worthless. Arman believes for a moment that he can get better. But the program is a blur of jargon, bizarre rituals, and incomprehensible encounters with a beautiful girl. Arman is certain he's failing everything. But Beau disagrees and then, in an instant, Beau is gone.

Under Rose-Tainted Skies by Louise Gornall Publisher: Clarion Books Release date: January 3 2017 At seventeen, Norah has accepted that the four walls of her house delineate her life. She knows that fearing everything from inland tsunamis to odd numbers is irrational, but her mind insists the world outside is too big, too dangerous. So she stays safe inside, watching others’ lives through her windows and social media feed. But when Luke arrives on her doorstep, he doesn’t see a girl defined by medical terms and mental health. Instead, he sees a girl who is funny, smart, and brave. And Norah likes what he sees. Their friendship turns deeper, but Norah knows Luke deserves a normal girl. One who can walk beneath the open sky. One who is unafraid of kissing. One who isn’t so screwed up. Can she let him go for his own good—or can Norah learn to see herself through Luke’s eyes?

Underwater by Marisa Reichardt Publisher: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux Books for Young Readers Release date: January 12 2016 Morgan didn’t mean to do anything wrong that day. Actually, she meant to do something right. But her kind act inadvertently played a role in a deadly tragedy. Morgan must learn to forgive—first someone who did something that might be unforgivable, and then herself. But Morgan can’t move on. She can’t even move beyond the front door of the apartment she shares with her mother and little brother. When it seems Morgan can’t hold her breath any longer, a new boy moves in next door. Evan reminds her of the salty ocean air and the rush she used to get from swimming. He might be just what she needs to help her reconnect with the world outside.

The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertalli Publisher: Balzer + Bray Release date: April 11 2017 Molly Peskin-Suso’s crushed on twenty-six guys…but has kissed exactly none. Her twin sister Cassie’s advice isn’t that helpful. It’s easy for her to say: she’s had flings with lots of girls. She’s fearless and effortlessly svelte, while Molly is introverted and what their grandma calls zaftig. Then Cassie meets Mina, and for the first time ever, Cassie is falling in love. While Molly is happy for her, she can’t help but feel lonelier than ever. But Cassie and Mina are determined to end Molly’s string of unrequited crushes once and for all. They decide to set her up with Mina’s friend Will, who is ridiculously good-looking, flirty, and seems to be into Molly. Perfect, right? But as Molly spends more time with Reid, her cute, nerdy co-worker, her feelings get all kinds of complicated. Now she has to decide whether to follow everyone’s advice…or follow her own heart.

Virtuosity by Jessica Martinez Publisher: Simon Pulse Release date: October 18 2011 Now is not the time for Carmen to fall in love. And Jeremy is hands-down the wrong guy for her to fall for. He is infuriating, arrogant, and the only person who can stand in the way of Carmen getting the one thing she wants most: to win the prestigious Guarneri competition. Carmen's whole life is violin, and until she met Jeremy, her whole focus was winning. But nobody else understands her--and riles her up--like he does. Still, she can't trust him with her biggest secret: She is so desperate to win she takes anti-anxiety drugs to perform, and what started as an easy fix has become a hungry addiction. Sometimes, being on top just means you have a long way to fall

Will & Whit by Laura Lee Gulledge Publisher: Amulet Release date: May 7 2013 Wilhelmina “Will” Huckstep is a creative soul struggling to come to terms with a family tragedy. She crafts whimsical lamps, in part to deal with her fear of the dark. As she wraps up another summer in her mountain town, she longs for unplugged adventures with her fellow creative friends. Little does she know that she will get her wish in the form of an arts carnival and a blackout, courtesy of a hurricane named Whitney, which forces Will to face her fear of darkness.

See our list of characters dealing with addiction.

[elbowgreaserp]

My Sailor Moon loving heart doesn’t know how to process this right now, but to summarize, my childhood. MAKOTO KINO, ACCEPTED! Sailor Jupiter in the house, ya’ll. 

OOC INFORMATION

NAME, AGE, TIMEZONE: Fate and I’m over 21.

ACTIVITY LEVEL: ooc? 8-9 via discord, ims etc for plotting, checking in, etc. ic? 6-7 due to having a job with an unpredictable schedule. but I can queue nongroup replies I spitfire owed group replies.

TRIGGER ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Yes, I understand.

ACTIVITY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: I realize the 6/7 may be off-putting, but I say that just in acknowledgment of my weird schedule.

NOTES: again please make sure gore visuals are tagged and lemme know what they are in case anyone missed that note on Johnny’s app

IC INFORMATION

NAME, AGE, SEXUALITY: Makoto Kino, 20, closeted bisexual

FANDOM: Sailor Moon

HOMETOWN: Tokyo, Japan (pre adoption), Colorado Springs (after adoption)

CLUBS, ORGANIZATIONS, OTHER:  Boxing Club

CLUBS, ORGANIZATIONS, OTHER CREATION:

Paintball Club (Paintball Club) Paintball Club is the most adrenaline-pumping, exciting club that UCCS has to offer. In conjunction with SGA, members will be able to play paintball for free, with small exemptions. We will play in many areas across town, and will play any game-types and any major paintball variations.

FIVE POSITIVE TRAITS: List em!

Absolutely amazing cook, forget all that precanned crap you packed. Refuses to give up on things once she gets started. Is actually a big softie once you get to know her? Would bend over backwards to help a friend because she doesn’t have too many of those Doesn’t like cheating, unfair fights etc when it comes sports and competitions. Makes for a good moderator

FIVE NEGATIVE TRAITS: List em!

Impatient Literally has no chill. Is either totally into something or absolutely hates it. Spiteful! Did something to personally fuck her up? Guess who is waking up to a bucket of ice cold water she dragged up from the lake Doesn’t really know how to make friends aside from cooking or punching them; has zero social graces Absolutely does not want to be here at all, spends most of her time cooking for the other ‘kids’ so she doesn’t have to break a sweat

BIGGEST FEARS & PHOBIAS: Planes (mostly if she hears low flying ones). Crippling fear of heights. Dying alone.

SCARIEST EXPERIENCE: That would be having to go through TSA customs for the first time, wondering what all the machinery was and why the ‘police’ looked so scary. If she was never going to get to stay with her new family…. It’s been a pretty quiet life despite some more delinquent habits of hers, none of that has ever been scary.

DO THEY BELIEVE IN THE GHOSTS/PARANORMAL?: Nope

ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER WE SHOULD BE AWARE OF?:

Waited a semester after being failed by a professor to key their car, so that the suspicion would not immediately be cast on her. Seems to have gotten away with it. Brought her paintball gun equipment to mess around with anyone else from the club that came on the trip, but also to fuck with the rude rich kids. She makes a really shitty roommate, watching vine compilations with shitty come and go service every night before bed. Her parents died in a plane crash when she was a little kid. She was put into an orphanage shortly after, eventually getting adopted by an older couple in the United States. She’s been here since she was seven or so, and doesn’t really have much of an accent anymore.

No superpowers, alien stuff, etc

WRITING SAMPLE

1, 2

[ks-caster]

Meet Your Maker

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Portgas D Ace, Portgas D Rogue, Gol D Roger

Summary: When Ace is thrown into Impel Down, he is immediately sent to the lowest level to await execution. Surrounding him are some of the world’s worst criminals - and in the cell next door, a woman with a mysterious past. When his ill-fated rescue is about to go south, the strange woman appears at his defense - and says that she’s his long-lost mother! Ace’s family history is not what he’s been told, but now the truth comes out...

Part of Chapter 1 and my outline are available under the cut.

Bad Things Shouldn’t Happen to Good People

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but nevertheless they do.

Gol Roger was born in Logue Town, a thriving trade center on the Red Line continent. His family lived in a little apartment on eighth and seventeenth; his mother played second violin in the local orchestra, and his father taught astronomy. He liked drawing pictures and listening to his dad tell the stories behind the names of stars and going to the market with his mother to pick out food. He was four, and he was content.

When the Bad Men came, he knew something was wrong instantly; they smiled and offered the children candy and said they were having a party on their boat for all the good little boys and girls. He told his friends not to go, but they wouldn’t listen. They’d told him not to tell their parents, because it would spoil all the fun, and he didn’t want to be teased for being a snitch, so he didn’t tell anyone.

He followed after them at a distance because he was worried, hiding himself (badly) in alleys and behind lamp posts. The other children got on the Bad Men’s ship, and Roger waited on the dock, nervously toddling back and forth until a pair of unfamiliar arms scooped him up and covered his mouth so he couldn’t yell.

-0-

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but that’s not the way things work, is it?

The phrase “Human Trafficking” was a little too sophisticated for Gol Roger as he sat uncomfortably in a cell packed with other crying children as the ship made its way far, far away from Logue Town, gathering a new dozen children every couple of days. Through the four months at sea, their group grew from thirty or so to over two-hundred, and Roger quickly grew used to feeling hungry and frightened, as well as the constant background noise of the other children—mostly the newest group—whimpering or sobbing.

He'd just started to read in school—sounding out basic words and such—and his readers were the Tales of Captain Adventure. He’d had a few in his backpack when he was taken, and he read them until his little sweaty fingers wore the edges of the pages ragged. Sometimes he’d read them aloud to the other kids in his cell, and only then would the background noise lower as the human cargos of the hold tuned their hearing in to the little  boy’s voice. 

When he ran out of stories, he started to make up his own. They weren’t very good, but some of the others would request that he tell them. It was nice to realize that he could quite the other children’s fears just with his voice, although if he was too loud or made them laugh too much, the Bad Men would come down to shut them up, shouting at them or hitting those closest to the doors of their cells.

One day a mean-looking woman in a formal kimono with a huge bubble over her head boarded the ship, and they were all made to scrub themselves clean with cold water and scratchy rags, then line up on the deck. She never spoke, but glanced over each child, and either pointed at them or waved them off with her index finger. The ones she waved off were immediately removed to below decks; the ones to whom she pointed—twenty-three in total, with Roger included—were led down the gang plank and into a large wagon.

Twenty-three pairs of lungs worked overtime, twenty-three hearts thundered in tiny chests.

Roger swallowed, then took a deep breath.

“Have you ever heard the story of Captain Adventure and the Evil Scuba Diver?” he began. The lady’s weird headgear had made him think of it, and apparently he wasn’t the only one—the tension broke with a few hushed chuckles.

“It starts like this: Captain Adventure was on vacation after a long day of saving the world. He was lying on a beach, watching on the ocean, but suddenly…”

-0-

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but the sun burned Roger’s skin on the long days working in the fields, and exhaustion wore him to the ground by nightfall, he didn’t have the energy to wonder why his karma was so bad. It wasn’t until a full year had passed that he realized he’d missed his birthday—he knew it was in the summer, but that was it. His mom and dad would always surprise him—he wasn’t expected to remember the date until he was older.

“For Captain Adventure’s Birthday,” he muttered as he dragged his hoe through the hard, dry dirt, “his crew decided to surprise him with a cake and presents. But danger lurks around all—”

“If you’ve got time to talk, you’re not workin’ hard enough!” the field supervisor growled, whacking him across the head. He clenched his teeth and kept his footing.

‘Danger lurks around all corners,’ he continued silently, gripping the hoe and working it against the ground as hard as he could.

-0-

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but Roger was making the best of a raw deal, that was for certain. He had a growth spurt when he was about eight, and after the first few summers, his skin baked to a medium brown with a spattering of freckles and neither paled nor burned. His muscles filled in and he grew in strength, and eventually learned more about his surroundings. 

He and about three-hundred other slaves were owned by the T’hlisi family—one of the 19 Celestial Dragon families. Although human trafficking was illegal in most parts of the world, it was fairly common knowledge that the Celestial Dragons were an exception to that. The T’hlisi family had eighteen members, ranging from the family’s patriarch down to his great-grandchildren. They were ridiculously wealthy, with gold and jewels and miles of farms dedicated solely to producing only the highest quality food just for them.

He didn’t get much chance to practice his reading, but he’d squirrel away scraps of paper or bark and little bits of charcoal and practice his letters by the light of the moon. Captain Adventure had gotten him through the worst parts of his life, so with what little free will he had left, he pursued creating and recording stories. By the time he was about thirteen, he could carry a barrel of water on one shoulder, balance well enough to run along the rafters of a half-built barn, and write two or three pages before falling asleep at night. He thought he was doing pretty well, considering.

That was, until he collapsed one day.

When it became apparent that no amount of shouting or beating or his fellow farm-hands trying desperately to rouse him would get him back on his feet, the overseers allowed an old man named Gonju to haul him over his hunched shoulders and hobble away with him. He regained consciousness after a few hours, drank some water, ate a crust of bread, and reported back to work in the morning. 

The guards demanded that he make up for his absence by doing double work, and amused themselves throughout the day by tripping him and spoiling his work. He resolved to base his newest story villains off of them that night, but by the time he returned to the hut he shared with nine others, he was too tired to think straight. The next morning, his whole body was seized with crippling pains, and he couldn’t even roll over unassisted, let alone rise from his pallet. Tycho, a hunched old man who’d been a doctor until he’d displeased the T’hlisi patriarch, took a look at him and asked him a series of questions once the pain had faded to the point where he could speak.

With each answer, the doctor’s expression grew more grave, the lines on his face deepening and his shoulder sinking. 

-0-

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, and on a badness scale of 1 to 10, +XYZ+ syndrome was about a 97. He hadn’t understood it all, but the description of how he was going to die was burned into his brain—a festering wound on his every conscious thought, which he traced over and over, irritating it when he tried to soothe it. Without medication, Tycho expected him to last about two years, in ever-increasing levels of pain and immobilization. If he’d been able to access the medication, he might make it another ten, but said medicine was prohibitively expensive in and around Mariejois, even for people who earned income. 

The next two months were a blur of exhaustion, pain, and despair. Roger collapsed six more times, and began to think that the resulting bruises would become dyed permanently into his skin. He’d never been heavy, but somehow he started losing weight—his body started to wane into the realm of spindly and fragile. 

Between his illness and the guards’ harsh treatment of him, he might have expired by the end of the year, having lost the will to fight. After all, even if he could resist the disease, what was there left for him, in life? A few more decades of hard labor before dying of exhaustion and age, his body tossed into an unmarked grave? What was the point of struggling to survive?

Luckily for our story’s hero, sometimes the littlest things can have an incredible impact on the world. One day, his legs gave out from under him, and he fell like a stone, his face pressed into the dry earth. It didn’t even really phase him anymore, so he lay there in a state of detached disinterest, letting the pain wash over him as he waited for more when the guards noticed him. But this time, the head guard barked at his underlings, “he’s practically dead, leave him.”

He lay there, eyes following a string of ants

-Roger decides to rob the Celestial Dragons, because really, what does he have to lose?

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but as any fool will tell you, diamonds are only formed under immense pressure. 

Original Outline:

Prologue: Two people, a man and a woman, sit slightly awkwardly at a restaurant. The woman says that she’ll tell him the story, but not all of it. After all, spoiling the true nature of the One Piece might jeopardize the Great Pirate Era, and what sort of a way is that to honor Gold Roger’s dying act? No, I can’t tell you the whole story. But I can give you the beginning. And I can give you the end. You think you know this story, but I promise you don’t.

Gol Roger, a sweet, friendly farm who is generally a rule-follower and loves making up and telling stories—the sort you imagine growing a long beard and sitting around in a rocking chair in fifty years, amusing his grandchildren—is kidnapped by slave-traders when they raid Logue Town. He’s sold to the Celestial Dragoons, and within a few years is diagnosed with a terminal illness. While there’s no cure, there is medicine that will prolong his life; however it is extremely expensive, and as a slave he can’t amass that kind of money. Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, but the world is a cruel place. The initial “D” (basically meaning “defective”) is slapped onto his identification.

Meanwhile, in the local Celestial Dragon’s palace, Princess Ashura is bored and lonely. One night she’s on her way back to her room from the library extremely late, and she finds a boy who broke into the palace. She says dispassionately that if he’s found, he’ll be killed. He responds that he’s going to die anyway, so he’s not afraid. Ashura makes him a deal—she’ll give him money and gold, whatever he came to steal, but he has to take her on an adventure.  

Gol and Ashura sneak out of the palace, he goes to the doctor, and Ashura has a Prince Siddhartha experience where she sees the suffering of the world. Gol promises to take her to his favorite spot in town—the tavern by the water, where the deep-sea traders come to tell their stories. Gol also tells her about a book he read, about someone named Captain Adventure, which spurs plenty of other traders to tell their hilarious and improbable stories.

After they leave—with Ashura feeling sad towards the world but warm towards Gol—they are chased and cornered by her father’s private guard, an elite group of devil-fruit users who protect the royal family. Ashura tries to protect Gol by saying that she paid him to take her out of the palace and show her around, but they say that they’ll still take him before her father. She remarks that he’ll have Gol killed, and he’s her only friend. The guards say they have no choice. Just then a ship passes by, and Ashura asks Gol if he can swim. She pushes them both into the ocean, knowing that the guards won’t be able to follow, and only one of them has a power that could stop her, and it won’t work on more than one person at a time. Ashura is pulled back and returned to the castle. Gol is pulled aboard the ship, and dizzily notices the jolly roger before he passes out.

Five years pass. During this time:

Gol becomes the cabin boy for the pirates, who are cruel to him, but he learns from them, and eventually escapes and forms his own crew. His fighting style is extremely daredevil, because he’s 100% down for dying, and every day he lives is sort of a bonus. This makes him learn quickly and become a formidable opponent. He says that the “D” in his name means that Death stands by his side, so nothing can kill him unless his dear friend Death wishes it. He also gains the catchphrase “I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.”

Ashura begins speaking out against the Celestial Dragons’ treatment of the commoners, and as punishment her father shuns her, forbidding the other members of her family from speaking to her. The servants all love her now because she’s been campaigning for their rights, but some of them are executed for speaking with her, and after that, she refuses to speak to them to keep them safe. One, named Lorna, tries to comfort her while she’s crying, and is also executed.) Isolated, she spends all her time in the library, building herself a blanket fort and taking all of her meals in there. She reads nearly all the books, and while the staff can’t talk to her, they sometimes bring her more books. She learns all kinds of things, and even invents a better, faster way to navigate—the logue pose. (At the time, the only way to reliably navigate the Grand Line was with Land Birds—relations of the South Birds, which always fly towards land, but are impossible to breed in captivity, and don’t have long life-spans. They’re hunted to extinction before Luffy is born.

Five years later, there’s another break-in; Gol D. Roger arrives with a flourish and tells Ashura that he still owes her that adventure. She happily goes with him, the servants, who are loyal to her, choose to conceal her disappearance (possibly they reached out to Gol as he gained infamy, begging him to rescue her before she loses herself entirely from isolation). THIS CHAPTER IS ALSO WRITTEN AND IS IN THIS POST AT THE END OF THE OUTLINE. In order to conceal her identity, Ashura shaves off her distinctive long red hair. 

What “Rogue” lacks in real-world skills, she makes up for in both her general book knowledge and her complete willingness to fling herself heedlessly into danger, just like Gol. They make quite the pair, and she soaks up experiences like a sponge. She decides to go by the name Rogue, because it sounds bad-ass and not at all noble. They get into it with Monkey Garp, who is just a captain at the time.

Gol’s crew decide to go through the Grand Line, because no one’s ever done it and comeback before; it’s too hard to navigate. Rogue’s Logue Pose (note: Logue Pose and Logue Town could also be called Rogue Pose and Rogue Town, based on Japanese spelling using R and L.) They have many great adventures, thieving from the wealthy, paying for Gol’s medicine, living the high life and telling stories wherever they go. They differ from normal pirates in that they tend to steal only from the wealthy, and that they wind up saving as many people as they rob, mostly for the lolz. The World Government becomes concerned when they realize that the news traveling from island to island is making the people of different nations realize when their rulers suck and also get the idea that they might have more power than they do. There’s also a rise of copycat criminals—adventurer pirates who rob from the haves but champion the have-nots.

Mention Ashura tapping the ash into the crystal tabako-bon** on the table; a tabako-bon is basically the ash tray that goes with said pipe. Obviously she has to cut the story short, in order not to spoil the One Piece.

Edward Newgate is about to be executed. He recognizes Rogue in the crowd and knows that if she’s there, that means there’s a plan. Even though the floor drops out from under his feet and he swings from the rope before someone manages to cut him down, he isn’t at all afraid. Later, he and his crew, along with Gol and his crew, run from a harried looking Garp and the Marines, and we get to see them interact a bit—we note that Rogue has a shaved head, Gol wears a straw hat, and Gol says that “Death will have to wait a bit for you, old friend.”

Gol’s health has deteriorated. He compensates with Haki and his reputation, but his crew—and more importantly Rogue—know that he perhaps only has a year or two left. Rogue becomes pregnant, and Gol tells her he wants to die as a pirate, not as an invalid. After a while, Gol is captured, and Rogue visits him in prison. They decide that this is the end—and he says he’s got an Ace up his sleve; one more adventure. She also says that if her family discovers their child, they’ll stop at nothing to have him killed. She has decided to fake her own death, entrust their baby to someone else, and go home and try and take down the government from inside. Rogue says goodbye, and then heavily medicates herself so that her child won’t be born with the same disease as Gol.

After Gol’s death, the Great Pirate Era kicks off. Ace is born, Garp takes him, and Red-Foot Zeff helps Rogue—now Ashura again—fake her own death. For ten years, her loyal servants have been hiding her disappearance. She slips back in, lets her hair grow back, and then asks for an audience with her father, to beg his forgiveness. She plays the part of a loyal daughter, while plotting a coup, discrediting her siblings, and generally acting Lelouche-like. Every year, on the anniversary, she visits Red Foot Zeff’s restaurant, and quietly inquires about her son. 

Ten years prior to Ace’s imprisonment, Ashura’s betrayal is discovered and she’s thrown into Impel Down to be tortured until she gives up the names of everyone who helped her. However, she naturally won’t do so. Ivanov and the New Kama folks rescue her at one point, but then other prisoners are being tortured/killed for refusing to say where she’d gone, so even though she’s exhausted and in pain and terrified, she returns and pretends she broke out on her own but didn’t get very far. 

The guards at Impel Down place Ace and (the fish guy??) in Ashura’s cell, knowing that you cannot torture someone who has nothing left to lose. She’s lost track of time while imprisoned, so upon hearing only Ace’s first name and seeing his age, she thinks he’s too old to be her son.

In the present, Whitebeard & Co. are trying to save Ace from execution with little success, only for a stranger in a long cloak to appear seemingly from nowhere, save him, turn the tide of the battle, and vanish. Everyone speculates about the Mystery Lady. Whitebeard figures out who she is and is horrified.

Ace doesn’t know what to think, after learning the truth about his mother. Sanji recognized her as Zeff’s old friend and investor, and they contact Zeff, who comes clean about his involvement, and Ashura/Rogue’s past. Ace wants to speak with his mother, and asks if Zeff can arrange a meeting without ruining her plan.

Epilogue: Four months later, Rogue comes to Baratié as usual, only this time it’s to meet Ace. It’s emotional. Near the end of the scene, she says “I can tell you the beginning, and I can tell you the end, but if you’re searching for the One Piece, then the middle will have to stay my little secret.”

Second Break-In Chapter:

Ashura thumbed listlessly through a reference book on predatory freshwater fish as she slowly paced along the length of one of the aisles of the royal library, eyes not really taking in any of the words or careful illustrations on the page.

She’d grown in her five years of solitude, and since she hadn’t had occasion to be seen by anyone, the only new clothes she’d ordered were pajamas. Tonight she wore loose, baggy pants, carpet slippers that made no sound on the clean tiles, and a thick, comfortable robe over her shirt. She looked decidedly un-princess-like—and that was without considering the nest of blankets and pillows that occupied a corner in the Maritime History section and had served as her bed for the last few years.

She absentmindedly tucked a strand of her hair into the ribbon-knotted birds’ nest at the back of her head, making a mental note to take it down and wash it sometime this week.

At first, she didn’t respond to the approaching footsteps; after five years, she’d gotten quite skilled at ignoring the slaves and other castle inhabitants who weren’t allowed to speak to her. However, the intruder didn’t head for the trash can to empty it or the bookshelves to reorganize them or even her bedding nest to professionally—and she sometimes imagined a bit affectionately—put it in some semblance of order. That was her first indication that something was different—the second one was when she looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, noticed the height of the moon, and realized that it was three in the morning.

Slowly, her eyes descended the glass to view her own reflection—shabby, unwashed and mildly crazed-looking—and then slid to the side to glance at the reflection of the man behind her.

He was tall, and broad in the shoulder, with shaggy dark hair and a sword hanging at his side. The stranger made a reasonably imposing figure, and she wondered with a detached sort of interest if he was there to kidnap her for ransom.

Snapping her book quietly shut, she reached out without looking and unerringly returned it to its place on the shelf, before pivoting to face the intruder.

“Hello,” she greeted him simply.

“Hello, Princess,” he responded warmly, and from the first syllable she knew him, even five years later, even with the unnatural amount of gravel in his maturing voice.

“Roger?” she whispered incredulously. “What are you doing here!” she demanded as he grinned at her. “Do you know what will happen if you’re caught?”

“Actually, I do,” he reminded her. “And in answer to your first question, I’m here to kidnap you, so let’s get going.”

After five years of almost no human interaction, the flood of unfamiliar emotions was too strong and too jumbled for her to sort it out into what it all meant, but her knees went weak and her pulse thundered in her ears. She didn’t realize that she’d collapsed until her bodyweight was resting against Roger’s chest and he was holding her up while holding an urgent-sounding conversation with someone else… who else?

Coming back to her senses, she turned her head and focused her eyes to see two members of the Imperial Guard, one looking over his shoulder while saying something about sentry schedules and the other unfolding a pile of cloth that looked like a guard’s cloak. She swallowed experimentally, biting down on her tongue to see if she was awake. Roger shouldn’t be in the Imperial library and the Imperial Guard should not be calmly discussing escape plans with him and she should probably be able to stand unsupported, yet none of those things were happening. Her tongue hurt. This was definitely real.

“What…” she got out blearily, before another person hobbled onto the scene.

“Your majesty,” _NAME_ greeted her as her sense of gravity returned and she got her feet under her at last.

“_NAME_,” she whispered, fear rushing through her veins, clearing out whatever she’d been feeling before and sharply defining the scene. Roger released her and stepped back, still discussing his exit strategy with the guards in low voices. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Your majesty,” _NAME_ responded, “We were the ones who called the pirate Gold Roger here.”

“Go—?” she choked out in confusion before thinking about how his name could be read. “What do you suppose will happen when my father discovers I am missing without any sign of breakage? He’ll lay the blame on all of you for failing to stop me—protect me, whatever.”

“Not if he doesn’t discover your disappearance,” one of the guards piped up helpfully, draping the unfolded cloak over her shoulders. 

“And when he eventually does, and learns of your deception? Because he will; maybe not now, maybe not this year, but he will.”

“Princess Ashura,” _NAME_ said firmly, her tone suddenly dark and urgent, “we have a plan, I promise. But in order to implement it, you must escape, tonight, with this man. Cut your hair, change your name, leave the past and all its nightmares behind you.”

Ashura’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as her brain finally caught up.

“You’re plotting a revolution,” she surmised.

“And there is no need for you to be collateral damage,” _NAME_ agreed.

“I can help—I want to…” she started, but Roger cut her off.

“Not like this, you can’t.” She whipped around to glare up at him—in the last five years, he’d surpassed her in height. “You’re little more than a prisoner here, Ashura,” he reminded her. “I think it’s evident by now that they won’t listen to you, and when you push for change, they just hide you away so they don’t have to listen to you.”

Ashura exhaled silently, knowing that he was right. As she was now, a lonely teenager in a library unable to talk to anyone because it would mean their execution, she wasn’t exactly useful to anyone. 

“Where are we going?” she asked Roger, buttoning the cloak shut and pulling up the hood.

“Everywhere,” he announced with a broad grin, “but we’ll start with the Trade Harbor up north—about two hours by rowboat. There’s a merchant there named Sully whose ship is equipped to make it through the Calm Belt and into the East Blue—my pirate ship is waiting for us there.”

“Your pirate ship?” Ashura checked as the guards led them out into the deserted hall, their measured tread unusually noisy against the flagstones, while her slippers and Roger’s soft boots made almost no sound. Anyone listening would think it was just a couple of guards doing their job, nothing to wake up for.

“My pirate ship,” Roger breathed, pulling another guard cloak over his head. “She’s not much, but she’s home. And she goes on plenty of adventures.”

“Good enough for me,” Ashura murmured before falling silent and following the men out the side gate that led to the canal.

“Keep your heads covered for at least the next two miles,” one of the guards cautioned them. “We use these boats routinely for sentry work; no one should question you.”

“Thanks guys,” Roger grinned, taking the oars and settling them into the rowlocks.

“Wait a minute,” Ashura muttered, struggling to maneuver the second set of oars from to bottom of the boat to the rowlocks without hitting either of them in the legs, “why are they giving you instructions? How’d you get in if not this same way?”

“I swam up the freshwater feed to the pump room in the basement,” Roger explained casually, as if it was as simple a task as rowing the little boat, which he was propelling at a comfortable professional speed while Ashura continued to struggle with the oars. “Then I climbed out the window-well and up the outside building to the guardroom where those fellows were waiting for me.” He shipped his oars for a moment to guide the ends of hers out from under the seat he occupied.

“How?” she exclaimed, trying to mentally recalculate the length of the swim that she’d already calculated and declared humanly impossible. “That’s four-hundred meters—the human record is two hundred!” 

“Let’s just say I had an ace up my sleeve,” he responded with a conspiratorial grin, but then paused, and looked down at where she gripped her paddles.

“Let me check your hands for a minute,” he murmured, and she paused and held her palms up for his inspection. “Oh, never mind,” he corrected when his eyes fell on the rough, hardened skin. “Where’d you get the callouses?” he asked in surprise.

“Weight room, first floor,” she explained simply. “Where’d you get the pirate ship?”

“Well, it was a spice merchant’s ship until me and my guys took it off their hands, along with all their gold and merchandise. She’s called the Green Serpent*. She’s a Clipper, so not great for cargo; we have to drop off our haul pretty often, but she makes up for it in speed. She can sail circles around the Navy. 

Um, is something wrong?” he cut off suddenly, and Ashura tried to feel her face from the inside to figure out what he was talking about. She’d been caught up in the way his face looked—the big, excited grin that reminded her of when they’d first met, and he’d talked so animatedly about the Captain Adventure. The way he talked was so beautiful it hurt…

Oh, that was why. There were tears running down her face for the first time in she wasn’t sure how long. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry since the disaster with Lorna. She sniffed and cleared her throat.

“I’m fine,” she rasped. “I’m fine… I’m just—” words wouldn’t come. How could she possibly express how agonizingly lonely she’d been? How happy it made her that there were people who would come for her, that suddenly she wasn’t alone anymore?

“Excited?” Roger suggested with a shrug, giving her an easy out.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed gratefully, wiping her eyes on her cloak and continuing to row. “So, we have two hours—tell me all about where you’ve been.”

-0-

The Dance-Powder** merchant’s ship Roger steered them towards was a Penteconter, propelled almost exclusively by huge oars, making it perfect to travel unmolested the normally impassable calm belt. Roger had purchased a large supply of Dance Powder, along with passage for two people; the captain and crew’s silence came with the package, as was typical of Dance Powder merchants.

“Being able to manufacture our own fresh water helps us stay at sea longer with less weight to store,” Roger explained as he demonstrated how to use a straight razor. Ashura worked shaving soap through what little hair she hadn’t hacked off yet while she watched. “Plus, we can mix it with a couple other ingredients and create heavy storms if we’re in a pinch; the Serpent will sail right through them, but the Navy has to shorten sail, since they’re all using Galleons. We can win a lot of sea battles without even firing a shot.

“Okay, that’s about all there is to it,” he added, washing the last of the shaving soap from his face, rinsing off the razor and handing it to her. She carefully held it at precisely 30 degrees from her skin as he’d shown her, and began to rid herself of the last of her hair. She knew shaving her head was a little extreme, but then, so was running away from the palace to join a pirate gang.

“What have you told them about me?” she asked.

“Not much,” he responded. “I said that I was going to rescue a friend from back home, but all they know about my home is that I grew up on a farm on the Red Line near the South Blue. None of them read _NAME_’s message, so you can basically use any back story you want.”

“Think they’ll believe librarian?” she asked with a shrug, shaving carefully near her left ear.

“Sure,” Roger shrugged. “You do have the experience for it. But how will you explain the callouses—or those thigh muscles?” Ashura smirked. Once onboard the ship she’d burned the pajamas she’d worn and both their cloaks, ridding them of any evidence of the palace. Since it was mid-summer, she’d cut off a pair of canvas trousers and rolled them up to make short-shorts—exposing unusually developed thighs for a librarian—or a princess.

“I guess the truth? I worked out a lot so that I could climb ladders more easily and carry big piles of books?”

“Well, I guess it’s not the weirdest reason I’ve heard for someone to be musclebound,” he snorted. “There was this guy we met way up North who accidentally placed first in a marathon because he was too awkward to run near anyone else, so he kept passing them.” He laughed, remembering, and Ashura watched in the mirror how he’d laugh with his whole body, wrapping his arms around his stomach and throwing his head back like he couldn’t contain it. She finished shaving and rinsed her smooth head in the sink. It was a stranger feeling than she’d expected.

“I kinda like it,” she muttered thoughtfully.

“You won’t when your head sunburns,” Roger snorted, and she rolled her eyes.

“My whole body’s going to sunburn—I haven’t been outside in five years,” she reminded him. “I doubt my head can be any worse.” Roger reached behind him and pulled a wide-brimmed straw hat from his things, tossing it with a flick of his wrist so that it settled on his friend’s now bald head.

“Well, borrow this for now,” he suggested. “Should keep the worst of it off you until your body adjusts.”

“A pirate with a straw hat?” she snickered. “Is this part of a disguise or is it actually yours?”

“It’s actually mine,” he admitted blithely. “It’s my good-luck charm, so I’ll want it back.”

“It’s an itchy good luck charm,” she complained, trying to adjust it so the straw was less irritating.

“Not as itchy as your first sunburn will be,” the young pirate retorted. “They really didn’t let you outside?” he added quietly.

“Harder to keep me under surveillance and make sure I didn’t leave or talk to anyone,” she explained coolly. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she frowned.

“Solitary confinement is a form of torture,” he muttered, and she noticed that he was clenching his fists.

“I don’t think that applies to people who have their own libraries to keep them occupied,” she assured him quickly. “It sucked, but I wouldn’t call it torture.”

“Still,” he growled, “I would have liked to punch your dad in the nose a few times.”

“Get in line, farmer boy,” she responded, a cold light in her eyes which vanished a moment later. “Anyhow, there’s going to be a revolution, remember? He’ll get his, I’m sure.”

“So,” Roger transitioned a little awkwardly, sensing that the matter was closed, “are you still going to call yourself Ashura? It’s not a common name.”

“I was thinking of Rogue,” she responded, stepping into a pair of soft leather boots and adjusting the laces to a comfortable tightness. “That’s what it’s called when someone leaves an organization and does their own thing, right? Like a rogue marine or a rogue soldier. I’m a rogue princess.”

“Rogue Princess, huh?” Roger said experimentally. “‘Rogue.’ It suits you.

“Welcome to my crew, Rogue.” 

[ilbvilbv]

2016 Year in Review

Another year has come to an end and I saw a that ty_desoto made kind of like a Year in Review journal and made special mentions to people who impacted his life and I was really inspired to do the same thing!

This time last year I wrote a Happy New Year 2016 Journal: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7282733/ I was excited for the year and everything was going to be great! Though for some reason I went downhill really hard, really fast. By January 8th, I was having a really hard time accepting who I’ve turned out to be. Struggling with my real and fantasy lives, my sexual attractions verses my desires to get married and have a family one day. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7298765/ I still struggle with it, but it’s less of a crippling pain now. I am living each day as it goes by really. Outside of who already knows that I am “struggling” I’m still not telling anyone else in my real life what I like, because it’s really none of their business. I also don’t really like to mention it at all, maybe out of some desire if I don’t talk about the problem it will go away. Then I started to cheer myself up, along with the support of my incredible friends. I began to read more and understand my moods and how to squash a depressive state of mind. I posted an article I read, 30 Ways to be Happier http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7331441/ and just started to think and do those things. I was feeling good about my existence again, not letting the trivial things bother me. I did have highs and lows all year of course, I had epic dreams about Dragons, I had several bad job interviews, and took bit work where I could find it. Volunteered a lot of time, out of my own wallet to things I was passionate about, both to help the cause and selfishly hoping someone in power noticed me and had me stay on to do more work and be paid. End of the day I am reminded that I'm just a piece in a game for all the higher-ups and my efforts put money in their pockets. Working class, low-income, unemployed. We are the base that North America runs on. It was a silly hope, but I went for it every time I got a shift or was asked if I was interested in coming out to help again. I learned to not have high expectations, so that if nothing happened I wouldn’t have set myself up for disappointment. Then if surprises ever came along they would be all the more exciting. As the beginning of 2016 went on, I made journals about Presence, the clutter of my life, and my desire to be more grateful, because I felt like I was not enjoying all of the things I did have. Someone always has it worse than me, so why am I complaining? Yet when someone needs to vent, its apparently healthy and cathartic, or can be viewed as whiny and attention-seeking. There is such a clash and double-standard in that area. Depending on how someone else feels will determine how they react to what you are expressing. A literal grab-bag of reaction and the possibility of sympathy or scorn. Those events may have been the reason I wrote this journal about how you are important and matter and are cared about: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7416646/ . My birthday came around, March 4, and I had bought myself a present with my Dino Grim, and we enjoyed that together. Also Zootopia had come out and the fandom was exploding with joy and pervish lusting. It took me three Tuesdays to finally be able to see it because every show was always sold out, even the 3D ones.  Finally saw it, enjoyed it, and that was that. I wrote two reviews a non-spoiler: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7463351/ and a regular spoiler: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7463347/ . I’ve got no desire to get naughty with any of the characters, but I do agree that Chief Bogo and those Dancing Tigers got me feeling hot and bothered. Vore with them is…desirable. On with the year, I began to feel inadequate again talking with people I looked up to and worrying if I was more of a pest than a fan. I started to feel ashamed of wanting to talk with mated people because I was afraid that individuals would be mad at me for talking to their mates. I was scared and alone again, feeling surrounded by the dark, which I also discovered this year, I am really afraid of. It was a brief period of uncertainty. I purged my Skype of baggage and people I didn’t really talk with, it helped a bit. That was the first time I ever cleaned out my Skype. I just don’t like to disappoint people, and then I get so overwhelmed at the idea of failing that I crumble and fall apart in my heart and spirit. I was an unconfident lump – to which I wrote a journal titled that, but don’t see the need to link you to. If you're that curious feel free to find it. Something that blew my mind in 2016 was learning that the number of favorites that are in the top right corner of your Furaffinity profile page are in fact the number of favorites all your own posted artwork has, not the number of favorites you have in your favorites gallery! Then I got a nice big job that would keep me busy for two and a half weeks! I made money!!! I felt so alive despite the brutal transit to and from work and the egregiously long hours. When I look back on it, I was sadly and sorely underpaid, which was super depressing to learn and reflect on the heart and soul I put into that job and damn, I was actually once again used. I'm still happy and grateful I had the opportunity though because I did meet and make lots of good friends. The FA changed their Icon limit and I had to scale back on who I had featured on my profile. It killed me to cut out so many, but lead me to make a rough directory by species and artists I liked so I could quickly access their pages. My ipad broke this year and that was a blow because I could not afford to get a new one. But the biggest blow was learning I wasn’t needed to go to France this year, and I was crushed because it’s the only vacation I really get and I was so excited to go. Then FA had its huge attack, and I was worried for a while if I’d get it back. All the password resets and the drama of it all, the huge exodus and literally everything about FA changed. It felt lost and new. Just when I was feeling like I could make something of myself there, everyone was leaving. But I am staying loyal to that site forever. Then I had a nice change of events and some good things were happening! I had the opportunity to travel somewhere else instead and I went to Madrid, Spain for the first time! I reached 1000 watchers in 2016, after being in the fandom since 2009, it was a big achievement for me! I came back from my trip alive and on fire, then slowly tried to integrate myself back into FA. It felt like people had moved on without me and I had to catch up or be left in the dust. I did have a date though, but it was terrible and that’s when I again hit a low point. Being unhappy with how I looked, how I spoke, how I tried to convince people to like me. It was my “white crayon moment”. I reached out to my watchers; I wanted to know what they wanted to see. How could I be better? How could I make something of myself? How could I be important and desirable? I talked about how I am intimidated by Artists http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7811583/ and again, inadequacy, worthiness, fear and anxiety. So I went to see Pete’s Dragon and was rejuvenated with love of Dragons and Monsters and all things magical, fantastical and guardians. I suddenly became very, very self-accepting. Meeting people who were afraid to talk to me, and being open and generous with them. I offered them advice and as I was writing it out being totally surprised by what I was saying. I condensed the good meaty part of my advice here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7831109/ Then I got to go to Cuba with a friend and his family, and that was much enjoyed vacation I would have otherwise never had. While there we survived a possible Hurricane Attack, what a rush! I came back home and expressed how much I care about everyone: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7869568/ and how much I freaking love Dragons http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7882423/ Then I talked about how not everyone I meet I have the desire to chat with, its common and normal, but I’ve been on the receiving end of someone who had no desire to talk with me and just wanted me to go away but didn’t actually say it. It feels like to someone ignoring you, that eventually you will just go away and get the message. It be so much nicer if a person was honest and just said they didn’t want to chat. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7891586/ http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7930422/ I also wrote about the 5 Love Languages and what core things make people feel like they matter to someone: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7891588/  I touched upon leaving comments for people to read on their submissions and journals http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7956092/ One of the biggest things I did in 2016 that was out of my usual life was go to my first ever Con in real life! I went to MFF 2016 in Rosemont and I got to meet a lot of friends in real life for the first time too, and that was kind of awesome. I wrote nice big journal about that too: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7962656/ When I got back home I reflected on myself and some of my characters, how I need to give them some more life and love. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7963053/ Then I had a whim idea which turned out to me my most successful journal of the year I think, asking all my friends to let me here them roar!!! http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7974714/ It was such fun and I was so honored to have had such a reaction and fun time with it. I love all you guys! Right near the end of the year while I was making Christmas Presents I got into a controversy. I used a picture as a reference and I heavily derived from it. I asked the artist of the picture if I could post it and emailed them a copy, they liked it and approved my posting of this picture, even said thank you for asking first. The problem was, out of a kind gesture I also asked the commissioner of the artwork who’s character I replaced in my drawing with the friend I was giving this too. They were not too happy I used this picture and didn’t want me to post it. They claimed I traced the image. Granted I did heavily rely on certain lines and shapes of the pose, so I can see how it looks that way. I tried to debate my case with this commissioner, who would not budge on the issue. They said if I re-drew the image in my own hand then it would be fine. So I relented, I said I wouldn’t post the picture.

I still gave the picture to my friend anyway, who happens to also be an artist and heavily advocated for me to post the picture in the facts that I have the artist’s permission to post it, and the artist is the one who owns the copyright of the original picture. The commissioner has absolutely no say. I technically didn’t need to ask them at all, I didn’t draw or copy their character in any way. There is a fine line between who owns what in an image and this was sticky gray area.

In the end I have adjusted and redrawn sections of the image, to make it less of a copy and more a reference as is allowed in any artistic situation. My friend helped guide me with suggestions on edits and how to make it more acceptable. So in the future I will post this new image and remind all that I have the artist’s permission to post it and that it is now a derivative of their work, and not a blatant copy. As the ordeal was going on I wrote a journal explaining my views on copyright, I am not sure if I am correct or wrong about what I have written so if I am in need of informing, please let me know. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7979622/ I ended the year on a more positive note, I am considering going back to school within the next few years. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7983118/ and I had a good Christmas and time with family. I finished 2016 off with a journal about how it is intimidating to ask artists for trades, especially if their skills are better than yours, but not to be discouraged. http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/7999147/ So that’s my year in review with a heck tone of journal links if you are interested in reading more about my time in 2016. I shall write a separate journal making special mentions to those who made my year so great.