#i physically can't take anymore ya fiction

[motions1ckn3ss]

hello fellow gay people, i'm looking for book recommendations! but specifically anything similar to maurice by e.m. forster and the charioteer by mary renault - i've added fellow travellers and giovanni's room to my list, but anything similar to this genre i.e. historical/period but also queer. lesbian more than welcome and encouraged actually

[johnnys-breastmilk]

Wally anon: Oh, we have the exact.same. mind fr. Even as someone who has been with the Screams my e n t i r e life & watches an insane amount of horror, Randy just has never. been that character for me. He serves his role well enough, is consistently written, & gets an iconic death, but he really outlived his usefulness in the OG as the franchise expanded beyond just. regular horror satire. 👀 kfhdhd I don't even take that much issue with 3. Like, is it the weakest of the initial installments? Yes. But I have very specific problems with it compared to a lot of the issues I see people have with it. 😶 Exactlyyyy. It naturally depends on the execution & how the individual Ghostfaces are planning attacks & all that, but Scream tends to have a great grasp on day vs night. 👍 Yuppp, you get it. The amount of stabs we physically see happening on him like fkdjfk soooo unserious.

And all from how good you're making him feel. 🫣 (No, please, let's get into it. Do tell who that is. 🤫) And you knowww his voice is gonna be hoarse after it from how much he was straining (it'll sound like it does when you fuck his throat). 😫

Oh, I'll bet a lot of gays can probably say the same thing. There have been a few "straight" guys who moved reallll weird around me when I think back on things. Oh, I'm sure it does, but you won't be able to feel anything after with how rough they're being with your hole. 🫠

Yesss, happy to hear 🫣 Then I guess my instincts were the correct ones with that one hitting me like it did. 🤭 (omg damn @ the times; I wish I were more of a ga(y)mer, but it's such an inconsistent thing for me @ only playing re2r & not re4r 💀)

Yessss. The writing was REALLY working overtime to sell the mystery element & pull the rug out from under you. 😭 I can not waitttt for what S2 gets into as an expansion on all of this cause I need all the lore & twists they got. 🙌 (Oh, this is making me think of some prime. angst fic potential based on everything we've discussed so far cause you knowww Wally would start getting in his feelings if you can't make enough time for him cause he's just so. needy & would think you don't need him the same way/like him anymore or w/e insecurity would find its way in his head when he's overthinking 😓) Cause he wants to be spit roasted by both of them. 🤭 (yupppp same, very much missed opportunity by completely forgetting he exists) Yessss, Amanda + the reveal that the entire.game. ALREADY happened + that SHE is gonna follow in John's footsteps is just 🥳🥳🥳 (ooh, so you like playing DBD, I guess I should've figured that but didn't consider it) fjdkdhd absolutely agreed on every point. If it tried to actually move the plot forward/elsewhere like Spiral, I'd like it more, but the fact it's a half-assed sorta kinda not completely prequel to pull a twist outta thin air just makes it so ❌️❌️❌️

Not talking about him not respecting boundaries when Emma was doing all that during truth or dare, not to mention the swimming, & acting like she was doing it all to entertain people later dkfhdk like okayyyy. (But, yup, this entire recent mindset people have where fictional characters - &, by extension, real people - can not ever have ANY faults or make mistakes is insaneeee to me cause it's like...I damn well know y'all. ain't perfect like y'all think y'all are, so maybe back off the judgement.) Yessss exactly. Emily & Kaitlyn supremacy fr 🙌🙌🙌 (Emma & Abby should've just been lesbians cause I literally. got those vibes in their intro scene & then was promptly disappointed when Nick came into the equation THEN got excited again with Dylan & Ryan; emotional whiplash I tell ya fkdhdl.) Oh, I absolutelyyy agree. The whole ~Laura rolls in, becomes the most important character, & Ryan tags along for finale purposes~ element is soooo weird to me cause her arrival is the inherent problem why so much of the rest of the cast are short-changed/go nowhere & yet the game acts like she needed. to be there. 💀 Yupppp. The lack of specification until. you're reading is by far the worst/most annoying version of that cause it's like, "Okay, not only did y'all not tag. but you completely left it out of the fic description as if you are just writing this for a house of your clones???"

Will do! 🙌 kfnfn I didn't even think of that @ leprechaun (although that does. bring some thoughts to mind about possible St. Patrick's Day fics for Milo's characters 🍀👀). Yupyupyup, you get it. 👍 You would not be able to pay attention at ALL. Just seeing it all jiggling around with every step he makes would be like 🥴

Very pleased to hear. 🫡

SO TRUE. I love 3 and how cheesy it is. some people say that it's the worst because of how silly it is, but it just makes it a fun watch. (and what they originally had planned for scream 3 was so bad. so, so bad. stu macher being revealed to be alive badd.... why does scream have a problem with sequels? each one is good on its own tbh, but together they're so dissonant it gives me whiplash on binges sskjdks) Yesss like in 5 when they attack the mf chief of police in broad daylight. It's insane!! Or how Wes gets killed inside with light pouring in. A good reminder that people break in all the time regardless of day/night. Super scary.

Yesss ugh he'll be going wild over all of it. Also, I didn't mean a person el oh el I meant men in general cumming sooo much. Like inhuman levels and painting the walls with a new finish skjsjd

Yeah straight guys are so weird... DLs are the worst type of "straight" guy. The lack of feeling down there from it would be craaazy but so, so good.

They're sosososo good I just wish my writing would click because I've been staring to my computer for half an hour and. nothing skjskjd. And don't worry, I'm an inconsistent gamer because of time and all. Most recently, I've played RE4r and Spider-Man 2.

The writing was just soooo good and it makes me so excited for the second season even more so. (you should totally send in some angst because I live for it just as much as fluff and smut🫣) Omg yes to the spit roasting, Tommy's a whore like me fr. Another I would have loved to see is Jason/Steve or at the very least Jason/Eddie (but Jason/Steve would've been interesting. Former Hawkins King versus the new one, maybe having Steve and Billy agree that he's a dick and teaching him a lesson slkdsdml) IT WAS SUCH A GOOD REVEAL AND SAW 3 MADE IT EVEN BETTER!! (Saw 3 haters can leave the chat, I may not like Jeff but I love the B story of the movie with Amanda and John and Jeff's wife) Yes ugh I love dbd because it's horror central. I have my issues with the game (like balancing, the devs being as dumb as bricks and feeling like we talk to a brick wall, the community being as horrible as it is.) But at its core, most of that is mostly avoidable and the game is just fun. I love knowing I can play as different killers or survivors from so many different legendary movies/tv shows (and I think I wrote a Danny Johnson fic earlier this year..)

Yesss ugh the hate Jacob gets is soooo annoying. Let him be a semi-problematic man whore in his crop top in peace!! Same with other characters that are problematic like Billy, for instance. He's obviously not a good person but people sit there and act like they haven't hurt someone else, and live their life completely like a virtuous, infallible person. Max and Laura were the weakest parts for me, I think the cop should have just killed them after he found them. The whole hostage part in the jail is soooo cliche and predictable (ntm overhearing crucial pieces of lore that makes the Hacketts look dumb for being so careless.) I like them but I found it so boring that they get the main stage after being absent for 70-80 percent of the game after the intro. Like Laura comes back in then they do a whole chapter flashback explaining everything, but it sucks. LMAO @ the clones because it's so true. While I do write my voice (the way I talk and think) into the reader I don't usually bother to write reader appearance aside from clothing/obvious accessories. I don't get why others can't do the same in the way of appearance.

St Patricks Day Milo fics sound interesting... so I'd love to hear what you have in mind for those🫣 And yesss ugh I'd be begging him to slam it down on the desk--either front or back--and mess up the note taking with something more worthwhile

[violentdevotion]

wait ok if you did your dissertation on nlmg then you’re the EXPERT. would love your opinion on the angle i’m taking if you don’t mind!!!

basically i’m looking at how the text showcases how soft power/ideological structures like schools/church/media/art (specifically schools and art in this case) reinforce the status quo and cause people to internalise their societal roles etc.

i also think the way it plays with utopian/dystopian genres is sOoo interesting like. the pastoral idealised Boarding School Vibes feels very utopian but a lot of utopian ideals require some level of authoritarianism and. hmmm. like a homogenisation of ideals that pretty much always dismisses the wants/needs of more marginalised people. and i feel like nlmg Gets It because the way the world is described for non-clones is kind of utopian with the whole No Sickness thing. and even amongst the clones hailsham is considered a sort of utopia compared to other schools or whatever.

idk honestly i could talk about SO much but my essay is examining it through marxist literary analysis so i’m basically focusing on althusser’s concepts and how they apply to the text but there’s SOOOOOO much to examine from so many different angles i would love to know what your dissertation was about !!! feel free to dm me because idk what counts as spoilers anymore skdhsjd

that sounds super interesting and absolutely a valid angle to take it on. i am absoultely not an expert on it though lmao. my disso was how grief is portrayed in nlmg and one other book so I didn't touch on authoritarian power structures except in relation to who is considered grievable (which if you want to explore id recommend judith butlers frames of war)

I think there's a lot to say on the topic. At the top of my head there's how Tommy was ostracised because he was bad and art and later chose to not take part in the gallery. There's when he was mocked for his little animals. There's when they meet with madame and in the time prior he obsessively draws little animals in order to show her. When they touch madame as kids and she looks at them as if they're spiders. Their limited access to the outside world. Even as adults they have limited time to themselves either being too busy as carers or needing permission to travel. How there's never even rumours of people who escaped. Cathy never really mentions surveillance or something like they're chipped, they're just so indoctrinated that they don't even bother trying to escape the system.

I think boarding schools as well is interesting because it draws on school stories in historical british fiction. Some stories (jane eyre) present these schools as a place of suffering and a child's first insight to injustices in the world, but still preferable to her home life. whereas I think most often they were serialised stories that portray the growing character of a child/children. So I think looking at halisham is interesting as well in this dual place boarding schools hold in the canon and how it fulfills both in nlmg (kathy looks back at this time fondly but most of the stories she tells aren't very happy) I think isolation plays into this as well. I'm thinking of the abandoned bus stop they hang out ??? But I coukd be misremembering. Ya know they live in a pastoral heaven but they also live in the middle of nowhere.

I think it could be interesting to look at how there's the no sickness thing but when kathy and Tommy meet madame and their other teacher again (forgot her name) I think one of them is physically disabled? Or at least she is in the film. Like all ailments aren't eradicated and they can't feasibly be. I think a comparison to the child of omelas could be made, a utopia of sorts built off of the subjugation of a class of people, except instead of walking away the class is so dehumanised the idea of it they even have souls is put to question.

I think your topic is really interesting and like you said there's So Much you could say about it all of the time. I recommend the book to everyone I can and when they finish it I like to ask them what they think it'd About (the same question proposed to my seminar group when I studied it at uni) and everyone's answers differed somewhat but a Marxist reading of 'it's about how our bodies are reduced to our labour" was the most popular one i think. I'm not familiar with althusser and I have work in 10 minutes so i dont think id be able to find + read his work in time but overall I think your idea is incredibly thought out, unique and you could dor sure get an amazing grade in it

[nbgwen]

Blarg

I've not been functional since last week. Stupid fever. It's not even a high fever, just a lingering make-all-your-joints-hurt-like-fucking-hell fever. I'm so tired.

I want to knit and write. I have no bbrrraaaiiiinnnnssss

I need this guy to stop the evil dead eating the last cells in my skull (gods, Ash, I haven't watches that movie in decades (literally and without hyperbole 😳).

Here lieth my brain. Covered in a fog of fever, ne'er to be seen again.

Ok, I'm being hyperbolic now.

I go through phases in my life where I figuratively ingest every piece of literature I can put my hands on. I'll be that way for months at a time. Then, without any rhyme or reason, my brain goes - ya know, we like this stuff, but we're going to stop. Now. For months, eh, maybe years. It's been probably 4 or 5 years or more since I've been able to sustainably read and entire book without external stimuli (I.e. reading to my son out loud).

I hate it. HATE it. I love to read. I love all the fan-fiction I've been reading, but this stupid fever has my brain stuttering.

Speaking of brains. Autistic ADHDers - I was diagnosed ADHD in my mid-30s AFTER my son was. That's pretty normal for women my age, unfortunately, we were the chatter box in class, the you-could-do-so-much-better-if-yiu-tried ones, the lazy, messy, disorganized ones (I always knew where my stuff was!). Now, here's where I'm feeling like more knowledge is wigging me out. There's a website that is designed for people to seek as a resource for autism. I've had some close to me suggest I could be on the spectrum, but I scoffed cause wouldn't someone had noticed? Except, no one would have cause I've always worn a mask - different masks for different situations. The older I get, the harder it is to hold it in place. I used to hug everyone cause people expected me to, now I barely want to touch unless it's family or someone I've known a long time.

So, that website. I went on and did every tests, long or short. I scored high, like very high, on all of them. I can't afford to get tested. And I don't know why I'm sharing this here (Tumblr feels safe, which is nice, I haven't openly talked about this to anyone except hubs and spawn #1).

So, I've basically lived my life jerry-rigging every aspect. Now, loud noises set me off. Hearing someone chew has always bothered me, but it's rage inducing now to the point I have to put on music or leave or cover my ears. It's so bad that I have started isolating myself from extremes of noise (other than music! Music is life!). My in-laws visit and I'm almost in tears the whole time - they're in my space, moving my things, and so so loud.

Are those autistic things? Or ADHD or both? There's more - I used to be very smooth with dealing with the public. Now, I feel like a nervous teen on the verge of a first date any time I have to. I was a a bartender, a food counter person, a 911 dispatcher. I was public admin and technically still am (though I rarely deal with them anymore). I will physically vibrate from the anxiety and get a massive adrenaline rush that keeps me wired all day. Oh, I also can't take ADHD meds as they interact with my depression/anxiety meds and make me super manic and depressive.

There's more, but I'm freaking out cause I don't want my break to stop again and I can feel it starting and I hate it.

I think I just want to know if anyone can relate.

[ryan-shepard-writes]

A couple dozen Get To Know Ya How Ya Doin questions by @athenixrose !!! Tagging anyone who feels like doing them! If you want to answer them you should go to THIS POST HERE and either copy/paste or reblog directly from Athenixrose!

Since I'm shy and haven't really been active in the writeblr community, I'm going to make it my goal to answer ALL the questions!

How are you?

I'm... Here. Which I consider to be a good thing.

How's the writing going?

Not terribly, I think, but I have a bad kind of writer's block right now. I know what I want to happen, but I can't make myself WRITE it... I also kinda feel like I really want to delete and change a bunch of stuff. Idunno.

Do you read books?

A bit too often, yeah. I cycle through the same ones all over, y'know? I love reading, but I think my brain is using it as an excuse not to write.

Have you been focusing on plot or fluff/downtime in your WIPs where nothing happens really?

Attempting to do plot, which is probably my problem. I excel at dialogue and character interactions, but writing plot is... Rough for me.

What's the hardest part of writing for you?

Actually physically doing it. Especially when it comes to doing events and advancing plot.

Do you like making titles?

YES. I love coming up with titles and taglines.

Do you like making blurbs?

I'm not sure! I don't think I've ever precisely written a blurb before?

Do you make your own mock covers?

Yes and no. I designed my own header photo on my blog, if that counts?

Do you write fanfiction?

Yes. A lot. Probably too much. I'm a selfshipper.

Who was your first ever favourite character from any piece of media?

My first ever fave? Probably Mewtwo.

Who is your current favourite character from a piece of media?

All Might!

Favourite book?

Gods that's a hard question. Probably one of the books in the Protector of The Small Quartet by Tamora Pierce.

Favourite song?

Genuinely no clue. I have a lot!

Favourite film?

TREASURE PLANET!

Favourite TV series?

At the moment? My Hero Academia!

What has been the biggest influence that has shaped how you write or inspired you?

The dichotomous complexity of the human heart.

Have you ever written anything out of spite because you hated how another piece of media was written or produced/ acted out?

Ooooooooooh yes. Most definitely. I don't think it exists anymore, but I wrote a whole ass new ending for The Giver when I was in middle school.

Last fictional death you cried at?

Aunt may in Spider-Man 2018 :')

How many drafts do you complete before you consider a WIP finished?

Uh.... Hehehe.... Finish?

How long have you been writing?

I wrote my first "original story" when I was 9, but I daydreamed original stories before that.

What genres do you write for?

Science-Fantasy, romance, queer, cosmic horror... Usually all at once.

Do you like doing research and if so, are you researching for a WIP right now?

LOVE research. Catch me taking refresher courses on hawking radiation for 2 lines of dialogue.

How many abandoned WIPs do you have?

Only a few... I tend to keep writing things even years later.

How many completed WIPs?

Hehehehe... 1. An old Kingdom Hearts fanfic that I wrote in middle school.

How many WIPs in progress?

All of them.

How organised with everything, are you? Do you keep track of OCs with lists ect?

I'm the least organized person you have ever met. I have no character sheets. Everything is trapped in my brain. Please send help.

Has your own writing ever made you cry?

Oh yeah absolutely. Fate's Crystal Majesty has SEVERAL points that make me tear up.

[ellzilla]

IRL ramble under the cut, if ya don't wanna read me yappin thoughts that are dark but ends on a positive note, just scroll by

Yknow, sometimes I'm very glad I got therapy during a time of my life I was kind of isolated from freaks on the internet. When I was younger, from ages 11 to 16, I used to draw a worrying amount of gore n' torture when I was upset, angry or hurt. I used to see nothing wrong with it, neither did the adults that hung out with me, for whatever reason. They saw it as nothing but a 'child being mature' or 'coping with their trauma so it's ok'. It being a cope for trauma was correct. It being okay was not. I was convinced at the time it was okay but oh.. if only I knew the damage it did to me... It took me getting shoved out of that group of weird adults and fellow impressionable kids, being relentlessly bullied and mocked by a mob they sent after me and getting death threats n' other unsavory things sent to me to finally send me to therapy. That on top of everything else that had happened to me up until that point broke even my mother, who's the "therapy is CRINGE" kinda old person, to take me to therapy. And man I'm so glad she did. I think my therapist was one of the best things to happen to me in my life. He helped me out with a lot of things, how to manage stress, how to manage anxiety, ect. But the most important thing is how to cope healthily. He originally suggested I draw out my worries and anxieties, but after learning how much I already did so and //what// I drew, he suggested against it. He explained to me how drawing too much of a horrific thing and conflating it with feeling better was not a good thing. How drawing gore and watching things suffer was not a good way to cope, as it was wiring my brain to think "Suffering of others/violence = you happy". He suggested I find better coping mechanisms to balance out the unhealthy way to cope and to try and wean myself away from associating drawing gore with feeling better. I didn't believe him at the time as 'it was all fake, fictional! I know fiction isn't reality!' but took his advice anyway. But I believe him now. I've realized I'm far too desensitized to gore and physical trauma. The damage has already been done to my brain where seeing real physical injury doesn't bother me at all and in fact I'm always fascinated by it. And that fact horrifies me. But I don't feel the same way I used to when I was younger. I don't feel 'better' or calmer or whatever anymore. That's why I'm so thankful for my therapist. He set me straight before my own child brain could damage itself more and taught me far better ways to cope with trauma. He's also a reason why my horror character's stories no longer are JUST suffering but also healing! Everything I've been thinking about for my ocs have been just healing from trauma and relearning how to be comfortable around certain mundane things. Relearning how to be comfortable with themselves. I think that reflects a lot about me. I know you ain't reading this but thanks, dude. Can't imagine how I'd be without ya.

[izzy-b-hands]

Pirate Party Part Two

Party pirates, partying in a piratey way on a pirate ship! Sugar! So much sugar it's not historically accurate! But why take that joy from these fictional children?

TW for emetophobia, underage smoking even tho I don't think they had those laws back then, but they do for this fic I guess lol

---

"Can I learn?" the little girl, maybe seven years old, with her blonde hair falling in her eyes, looked up to Jim.

"How to throw knives?"

The girl nodded. "It's really cool how you do that."

"Thanks," Jim smiled. "Well...okay, you can't tell your parents though. No throwing knives in front of them."

They knelt down and handed the girl a knife, only for Oluwande to snag it instead.

"Jim!"

"She wants to learn!"

"She's a child!"

"I know!"

"This is a fucking knife!"

"I know that too!"

The girl let out a whimper, and they both broke into apologies.

"I'm sorry," Oluwande said. "Jim just keeps their knives really sharp, and I didn't want you to get hurt."

The girl nodded thoughtfully. "Could I learn with less sharp ones?"

"Actually, then if you get cut it's gonna hurt way worse," Jim said.

Oluwande gave them a look.

"It's true!"

"Can I learn how to fish?" The girl asked.

They both let out relieved sighs.

"Absolutely," Oluwande said. "Wait until you see all the weird fish there are..."

From the corner, Izzy listened until they were too far away to hear. This, to him, was maximum, peak, bullshit. There were so many children, and they were everywhere all at once, and sticky! They hadn't even been fed yet, and they were somehow already sticky. It was ridiculous!

Luckily there were a few older kids who had gotten his hints to keep the kids away from him, and they all redirected any of the younger ones if they so much as looked at him.

Except for one.

"Parties are stupid," the boy slouched by him against the wooden wall, and rolled his eyes. "Fucking kid shit."

Izzy bit back a smile. The boy was maybe sixteen, give or take a year or two. "Yeah, I hear ya. I'm not up for all this shit either."

"Like, who even has birthday parties anymore, that's so immature," the boy scoffed, and Izzy faked a cough to stop himself from bursting out laughing. "Like, be original, do something cool."

He was dying, the kid reminded him so much of himself and Ed at that age. It was horrible and funny, but also wild that the kid was clearly trying to impress him.

"What would you have done?" Izzy asked. "Pirate ship isn't cool enough?"

"Okay, so, the locale is actually cool," the kid replied. "But the activities are like...dancing to kid songs? And cake? And whatever that one guy with the seagull is doing?"

Izzy peered out and could just see Mr. Buttons doing what looked like a magic routine with a seagull for some of the kids.

"You don't wanna keep seagull guy?" Izzy joked.

The kid laughed. "Well. I guess he could stay."

Izzy nodded. "Mom made you come to watch a sibling?"

"How'd you know?"

"Just a guess," Izzy said. "You'd rather be doing stuff you think is fun."

"Yeah," the kid said. "Trenton, by the way."

"Izzy."

"Like, me and my friends, we like music and hanging out, and smoking stuff," Trenton said.

"Stuff?" Izzy asked.

"We can't get full smokes from anybody, so we all just cut off bits of our parent's and then glue them back together."

He nearly lost it then. It physically hurt not to laugh. Trenton was so earnest, so painfully wanting someone to think he was cool. The feeling took Izzy back into his own memories.

"Nice," he managed to choke out. "Say, why don't I go grab us each a cigar or a pipe or something?"

Trenton's eyes were dinner plates. "For real?"

Izzy shrugged. "I'm not your parent, and this is a party, right? Hell, I first smoked at thirteen, how old are you?"

"Almost fifteen," Trenton replied.

"You need to catch up then!" Izzy crowed. "I'll be right back with some, hang on."

As he went around the corner to the nearest stash of cigars, he ran into Lucius.

"You are not."

"He's at the age where he wants to be rebellious," Izzy sighed. "I had people help me do stupid shit as a kid, and looking back those were the adults I admired most!"

"I'm sorry your childhood was like that, because that sounds excessive and ultimately damaging," Lucius said sharply. "But you can't give him a cigar."

"He'll throw up and not want the rest anyway," Izzy protested. "That's what I did with my first cigar."

"Ew," Lucius grimaced.

"Yeah, me and Ed, one stolen cigar. Ran miles away from town to smoke it," Izzy continued fondly. "Taking a puff, then puking. Giving it to Ed for his turn, and he'd do the same, then give it back to me and-"

"Yeah, that's good, I get it," Lucius interrupted. "I just-"

"Look, I'm not trying to be creepy or a bad influence or whatever," Izzy cut him off. "Honestly, I know how it seems. He just seems miserable, and miserable kids act up. But maybe if he's happy, even if sick, he'll just fuck off and lay around for the rest of the party."

Lucius nodded. "I hate that that's a good point. I pulled a littler one off a rope and he bit me when I said he couldn't be up there."

"What is it with you and getting bit?"

"I don't know," Lucius muttered. "Anyway...fine. One cigar, but after that he goes to sit in his assigned chair and wait for lunch!"

"Thanks Mom," Izzy rolled his eyes and retrieved the cigar, ignoring the pain when Lucius slammed his hand with the metal lid of the stash box.

Back at the wall Trenton looked like he might pass out already just at the sight of the cigar.

"You said you've smoked before, right?" Izzy asked, knowing full well that had been a lie.

"Yeah, but maybe remind me?"

He smiled as he ran through instructions, and watched the kid light up.

"Take it easy, not so much at once," Izzy warned, finally plucking the cigar from his hand.

But Trenton was preoccupied coughing his lungs out, then hurling over the side of the ship to the delight of the nearby seagulls.

"What did you do?" Ed asked, exasperated. The baby on his hip whined at the cigar smoke in her eyes.

"Sorry," Izzy stubbed the cigar out quickly, waving away the smoke. "Sorry for that kiddo, you weren't meant to get any of that."

"Izzy," Ed said. "Seriously, is he okay?"

"First cigar puff, and he took a big one," Izzy laughed.

Ed's face relaxed. "Oh fuck, is that all? Poor thing, but we all do it."

"Part of growing up," Izzy agreed.

"Yeah, but you're too little for that yet," Ed said to the baby, booping her nose. "Not till you're a silly teenager, making bad decisions and having fun."

A knife suddenly went whizzing past them both, nearly nailing Izzy's head. The baby started to cry, and Ed handed her to Izzy as he rushed off shouting for Jim and Oluwande.

Izzy stared at the baby, who stared back at him, both in the way one might examine a particularly disgusting bug.

"So...what the fuck, huh?" Izzy asked her.

She looked around, babbled something lightly, then hiccuped. For a moment, she seemed content, and he thought maybe he didn't mind the little ones as much as he thought.

Then she gulped, hiccuped, and vomited all over his neck and chest, and he had to resist the urge to drop her and run to puke off the side of the ship himself.

[savrenim]

hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

[ghostsofmemories]

Ocean In the Woods: Character Portraits/Profiles

I hope everyone enjoys this because this has taken Forever™ and it's the reason I haven't gotten anything done all week. I drew some portraits in my comic sans presentation but I'm not very happy with them anymore so here's some better ones!!

Arthur Benz, he/him (MC)

I've already posted his portrait once, but it wouldn't be right to ignore him here! Arthur is 17, a trans guy, and a little impulsive. His family is very supportive of his gender identity (because I literally never see that in stories ever) and he has been on testosterone for just over a year. He has a tendency to feel guilty over things out of his control, is extroverted but distant, and is observant in terms of detail but oblivious in terms of emotions. He's not really a school kind of guy and can't wait to get out of there.

Anne Benz, she/her (older sister)

Anne is a 24 year old woman who still lives at home (by choice because she loves them). She's a programmer, family genius, considering giving her a secret girlfriend. She's extremely caring and closest to Arthur out of the rest of his family. Takes her responsibility as the oldest Very Seriously but still knows how to be a cool badass.

Aiden Benz, he/him (little brother)

Aiden is 14, in 8th grade. He is my baby, small and soft and even though he's a bit of an asshole at times, I still love him. He gets very good grades and listens to Bach and sort of thinks he's above Arthur because of that, but he's going to grow a lot over the course of the story. He's just an adorable child and deserves better.

Maya Bright, she/her

Maya is Arthur's best friend, who is also 17 but 12 days older and will let you know. She is absolutely fucking wild, and still manages to keep straight A's. Chaotic bisexual. She and Arthur feed each other's impulses. Would get into an ivy league school but get arrested for rioting and throwing bricks. I love her.

Lance Fisher, he/him

The other best friend! 18 and the only straight white person in the group, but he's still rad. Has gotten suspended from school and (temporarily) kicked off the soccer team because someone was messing with his friends and he was not having it. He's kind of an all brawn no brain at times, but he's not actually stupid and it hurts is feeling when people make fun of him (but he'd never tell them that).

Ollie Cook, they/them

Local freshman at 15, and basically got thrown into the friend group after coming out in the fall. They are feminine and Do Not Care what people think about it. Loud, fun, go-with-the-flow kinda friend. Unsure about their sexuality. They're always there for everybody but kind of insecure about their place in the group due to being younger and new to this whole thing. Very sweet, 100/10.

Vanessa Pierce, she/her

16, a sophomore amongst many juniors and a freshman. Dating Ollie, and the two of them are a very cute couple. Local lesbian (listen I don't wanna get into the gatekeeping stuff about nb people and sexualities, yeah? Let them exist) and lover of all things in shades of red. Probably secretly a goddess.

Ocean, she/her

Possible love interest from a parallel dimension (it's basically our world but set back 20 years and with monsters? I don't really get it either tbh. I'm just going with it) who accidentally brings a very scary monster/demon/whateverthefuck to our world. She's very desperate for approval in most things she does, as she's very unfamiliar with the technology and social dynamics here. She's very homesick and misses her family, but the portal back home won't open until the physical world is as it was before she got there (AKA no monster). Idk how old she is yet, but between 16 and 18. Mysterious. Unpredictable. Nervous wreck.

The Benz parents also play pretty big roles in the story, but I didn't include them here as I don't really have a clear picture of what they look like yet, so here they are (I basically just made some Really Awesome Parents because I don't think we see enough of that in fiction, especially YA):

Denise (mother) is very nurturing and careful. She wants to do everything as perfectly as possible with the fewest amount of repercussions. Her father is of Nigerian descent and her mother was born and raised in Mexico, but died when Denise was a young girl. She's trying to learn spanish as a tribute to her mother and heritage, but she's also juggling a career and her children, so it's a process.

Richard (father, who will always be Richie to his wife and in my heart) is also a programmer, and sparked Anne's interest in the job when she was young. He tries to spend time with all his kids and struggles to accept the fact that they're growing up. He does whatever he can to make them happy. He owns up to the mistakes of his past (spent some time in rehab when Anne and was a kid and Arthur was a baby), but does his best to move forward.

Overall, this is my favorite cast of characters ever!! I might have to slightly pair down some of the stuff I've got going in my head for them because frankly, there is Too Much Subplot (but. I love them so much) and there is not room for all their development and characteristics.

Taglist: @brooklyn-etc @coffeeandcalligraphy @my-lifes-one-big-critical-fail @kozyisa-tries-to-write

[demonsofhunting]

"It Feels Like I Can't Breathe" ( Destiel One Shot )

Summary: Dean is at a very low point, and Cas comforts him.

Warnings: angst, depression, light fluff, hurt/comfort

Words: about 1000 ( cute, I know XD )

A/N: So, I didn't plan to write this...I just had to, somehow. Writing my feelings down seemed to be the only way to let it go...I don't know. Here you can see reason #12328438 why I can relate to Dean Winchester. Just because of this fictional character I finally managed to bring up the courage to talk to someone about my mental health, and got to find the help I need.

To everyone who knows what I'm talking about ( or in general everyone who's out there and feels lonely ), I just want to make sure that you know that my inbox is always open! I'm here if you need someone to talk to! You're doing great, so keep going! Always keep fighting! <3

Anyway, I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

Dean Winchester is strong as hell. He has to be. Everything he does, his whole damn life, everything has to be sacrificed for the greater good, every single time. It's like the universe just loves to see him suffer, to see him crawl through his life like a dead vessel without a soul, trying nothing but function properly. Damn, he feels so worthless. Like nobody doesn't really care. He feels this way, no matter how much his family shows him that he's loved. It's like they just can't convince him. What is this supposed to mean? Maybe, it means that he's already broken. That there isn't anything to fix. Not anymore. Dean feels always so...worthless. Empty. Like he's nothing but a burden for his loved ones. He tries to smile for them, every day. But it's so hard to do that. It's getting harder and harder... There is a tight feeling around his chest, making him feel like he lost the ability to breathe...it's like even mother earth herself said: "We don't need you anymore. You're worthless and without any use. All you're doing is stealing other's air."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's one of these days when the bad feeling gets really bad. Almost visible, like a grinning demon made out of shadows, staring over the hunter's shoulder. Dean's limbs are so damn heavy. Everything hurts and is numb at the same time...it's a strange but so familiar feeling. It's already around midnight as the elder Winchester sits on the bunker's kitchen table, lonely, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Since I'm too stupid for anything, I can at least make myself going dizzy with alcohol... He blinks the tears away, taking a big sip from the liquid, as a familiar voice rings over to him, surprised. "Dean? What are you doing here? I thought humans need sleep...?" Cas asks, worried. Dean can almost see him in his mind, tilting his head in his 'I don't understand' manner, even though the hunter is sitting with the back to the angel at the moment. "I'm fine, Cas," Dean rasps, almost choking on the whiskey, "I'm just...chilling out, ya know?" "You're lying, Dean," the angel sighs, coming over to him, "Why are you always doing that?" 'Cause it's easy?" Dean growls, rolling his eyes, "I have no idea. Leave me alone, okay?" Cas takes a seat next to him, crossing his arms with a serious expression on his face. "No," he determines. The hunter hisses: "Fine. Then I'll go!" He stands up, but Cas is already grabbing his arm to hold him back. The angel doesn't stop pulling until Dean finally gives in, and sits down again. After a couple minutes of awkward silence in which Cas obviously doesn't stop to stare at Dean, the hunter clears his throat: "This isn't funny, Cas. What do you want?" "I want you to talk to me," Cas mutters, blinking,"You're hurt, I can feel that." He tilts his head, and adds: "Even though...I can't see any physical wounds here. So...it might be your soul which is damaged." The other chuckles, coldly. "Oh, my sweet angel. You're such a genius!" he scoffs, making Cas frown. "Stop making jokes, Dean. This isn't funny,"he says, firmly. "Technically, this wasn't a joke - "Dean begins, but gets interrupted by Cas turning to him, and grabbing him by the shoulders. "Dean! Stop!" the angel tells him, his eyes filled with desperation, "I'm deeply worried! You always push me away and...I just can't stand that! So - for my dad's sake! - talk to me!" Dean tries his best to stay strong, but Cas' words free something inside him, making tears coming out of his eyes, suddenly. Damn it. I...I don't want to cry in front of Cas! He tries to hide his face, and turn away, but the other's grip is to firm for him to move. So, he's forced to gaze into the angel's blue, blue eyes... The eyes of the man he loves. The eyes, in which he could see the life fade away as Cas died. He can't help but start to shake. Suddenly, he is nothing but tears and sobbing, as it all starts to come out...finally. He held it back for way too long, making him suffer under its weight, every day. He collapses into Cas' arms, who hugs him, passionately. "Dean...shush. You're safe. I...I'm here," the angel whispers, kissing his forehead. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Cas," Dean cries out, the whiskey bottle falling to the ground where it shatters, "I don't know why I have to feel like shit all the time! I don't want it! I...son of a bitch, I feel like I can't breathe!" His whole body is shaking,his hands are clutching on his angel's trenchcoat like it's his only anchor. "Hey," Cas says, calmly, "It's okay, it's okay..." "No, it isn't! Everything is wrong everytime! Since I'm a kid, I know almost nothing but...pain. How is this possible?" Dean sobs, weakly. "I don't know. I think some people are just living a hard life, filled with misery. There are souls out there who are tortured without any reason...maybe you're one of them, maybe not. But you don't have to hate yourself. You're doing amazing, Dean! You're unbelievable strong! You can survive this! Hey, look at me!" the angel says, raising Dean's head with his fingertips, slowly, "Your family loves you. Your friends love you. Sam loves you. And - and I love you!" With these words he kisses Dean, softly. The hunter kisses back, every single movement is filled with desperation. "Are you sure that I can make it?" Dean whispers between two kisses, his eyes swollen form crying. "I wish you knew how beautiful you are," Cas says, breathing, heavily, "Yes, I'm more than just a little sure, Dean. You're gonna make it. We all are. And if you need me, I'm always there for you. Sam as well, of course -" "Thank you," Dean interrupts with a light smirk. Then he kisses his angel again, making the world disappear around them.

Aaaaaand that's it! Thank you so much for reading and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit, I will love you forever! <3

Feel free to tell me if you found mistakes, too. I know that this is far from perfect! ;)

Destiel/Forever Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @rebeloftheseas @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn @trenchcoatsandfreckles @helpmeluci @legendary-destiel @leahslovelylibrary

[wrestlersownmyheart]

Second Chances Ch. 26 (Book 1 In the "Chances" Series) *Samoa Joe X OC*

Pairing: Samoa Joe X Female OC

Summary:

Ella Roberts has led a traumatic life.

She witnessed her parents' murders at the age of eighteen, and narrowly escaped death herself, due to the intervention of Joe Seanoa, a close family friend. After she discovers she was the true target the night her parents were killed, she assumes a new identity and runs away with intentions of protecting her family and loved ones. Years later, she is pursued by a mysterious Ukrainian, and soon finds herself right back in the biggest nightmare of her life. Fate brings her back to Joe, and knowing Ella's still in danger, Joe vows to keep her safe. But can he succeed? Or will the danger that still threatens her freeze any second chance they have at a happily-ever-after?

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

Chapter Content & Trigger Warnings: Nothing major. Some non-consensual groping.

Chapter 26

10 Years Later…

Breckinridge, Colorado~ 2008

Joe rode in silence as Jeff drove down the long highway to their next show.

"You sure you're okay to wrestle tonight," Jeff asked Joe, as he flipped on his blinker and switched lanes on the busy highway. "That chair shot you took looked really brutal."

Joe nodded, staring out the passenger side window. "Yeah, I'm good to go. It'll take a lot more than one of Steiner's chair shots to take me out of commission."

"Ya know," Jeff said gently, "the guys wouldn't be so hard on you if you'd lighten up on them. You scare half the roster anymore, Joe."

"That's their problem," Joe muttered.

"Yeah, but it becomes my problem when I can hardly get any of them to wrestle you. It puts me in a tough spot."

"Well, with all due respect, Jeff, we're wrestlers. Not ballet dancers. If they can't handle fighting me, they need to reevaluate their profession."

Jeff sighed, and decided to shut his mouth. When Joe didn't want to listen, he wouldn't. That's the way he always acted for as long as Jeff had known him, but it seemed to have gotten worse since Ella died. The large Samoan was extremely moody. He didn't joke—wouldn't even crack a smile. All he wanted to do was beat up his opponents, whether they were friends or not.

Friends, Jeff almost snorted. Joe doesn't even have friends anymore. Everyone's flat out scared of him. Even the knockouts seem petrified around him, and I know he'd never hurt a female.

It really bothered Jeff the way Joe and AJ no longer spoke at all. The two had been like brothers at one time, but Joe hadn't accepted the fact that what happened to Ella was not AJ's fault. Jeff knew it was Fournier's fault—and only Fournier's fault. But he had to admit—despite the love he felt for his late niece—Ella shouldn't have resorted to running away. She wouldn't have died if she hadn't.

But then he felt guilty for having such thoughts. No, Ella didn't have the right to turn her family's lives upside down in such a way—but on the other hand, she had panicked and most likely felt running was her only option.

He thought back to that night as he had many times, and knew none of them could have done anything differently. They couldn't leave Dixie to die a horrible death. They left the one person they knew without a doubt would guard Ella with his life and it still had not been enough.

Jeff looked over at Joe then and could see the emotional change in him as well as a physical one. The younger man's eyes had grown even darker over the years—a more intense shade of black. They'd grown cold as well. And he seemed to wear a perpetual scowl on his face at all times.

Except when he's luring a ring rat to bed, he thought disdainfully.

That was the change in Joe which Jeff hated most. He knew the one-night-stands were Joe's way of trying to cope—along with getting drunk quite often—but it disrespected Ella's memory.

"What would Ella think," Jeff muttered under his breath, unaware he was thinking aloud.

"What's that," Joe asked, staring Jeff down as though he were daring him to make him angry.

I might as well speak up, Jeff thought. I mean, what's he going to do? Try to punch me and wind up making me wreck the car?

Gathering his nerve, he finally spoke. "I have to say it, Joe. All the one-night-stands you have are just... wrong." He glanced at the Samoan and saw the muscle twitching in his jaw.

"How did you find out, and what business is it of yours," Joe asked in a quiet, but deadly tone of voice.

"Hotel rooms have thin walls, and when you're rooming next to co-workers… well, it's kinda hard to keep it quiet. And technically, it's none of my business," Jeff admitted. "But on a personal level, I'm concerned about you, as a friend—as a relative."

"You're not a relative," Joe said coldly. "You weren't a relative but for a few short hours."

The cutting remark couldn't have stung any less than a hard slap to the face. Jeff swallowed past the hurt however, and tried again. "Okay, fair enough," he said softly. "Nonetheless, I'm worried about you. All the alcohol and sex in the world isn't going to bring Ella back, Joe."

"I'm not trying to bring her back," Joe growled.

"Be that as it may," Jeff persisted. "You could lose any remaining chance for love by acting this way."

"I don't care," Joe snapped. "I've already been in love, and what did it get me? A dead wife!"

At that point, Jeff pulled into their hotel's garage and slid into a space. Killing the engine, Jeff turned to Joe with a deadly gleam in his usually kind blue eyes. "Never refer to Ella that way again."

"Why not," Joe challenged, fire entering the man's black eyes. "That's what she is."

"Get out of the car," Jeff yelled suddenly, finally at his breaking point. He opened his door and climbed out of the vehicle as Joe did the same.

"Now what," Joe shouted, marching up to the older wrestler.

"Now, we settle this," Jeff snarled, popping Joe in the chin with his fist. "I've had it, Joe. I've tried to be nice, and understanding. Clearly, taking you to the woodshed is the only thing that will get through to you!"

Joe lunged forward with an enraged scream and took Jeff down to the concrete, grabbing his throat. Before he could choke him, however, Jeff reached up and boxed his ears hard. Joe yelled out and rolled off Jeff, holding his head in his hands. Then it was Jeff's turn to tackle Joe. He pressed his shoulders against the pavement with his knees and broke loose with several punches to the angry Samoan's face. He was vaguely aware of another vehicle entering the garage and the engine roaring suddenly. The next thing he knew, tires screeched and then doors slammed. Then he was being pulled off Joe by a pair of arms. Two other sets grabbed hold of Joe to prevent him from attacking Jeff.

"What is wrong with you two," Steve Borden cried, holding on to Jeff.

"I was teaching the kid a lesson," Jeff shouted, struggling against Steve.

"Teaching me a lesson," Joe scoffed, and fought against Matt Morgan and Shawn Hernandez. "You just wait till I-"

"STOP!"

Everyone froze and looked at Steve. They'd never heard him raise his voice so loudly or so harshly before.

"This is insane," he continued once he had their attention. "Ella wouldn't have wanted this. She ran away in order to try and protect everyone. She died instead. And every bit of it was for nothing if you continue trying to kill each other!"

Jeff yanked his arms free. Then he pointed at Joe and glared. "I never want to hear you mention my niece again. Is this what would've happened if she'd lived and stayed with you, Joe? If she'd made you angry, or you grew bored with her…would she have had to put up with you drinking your life away and sleeping with any woman who crossed your path?"

"SHUT-UP!"

Joe tried to lunge at Jeff again, but was securely held back by Shawn and Matt.

"Chill out, bro," Shawn said, patting Joe's shoulder with his free arm. "Just calm down."

"Jeff, maybe you should just get up to your room," Steve said softly, seeing the anger on Joe's face. "Joe might calm down with you gone."

"Yeah, I'm really concerned about him calming down," Jeff growled, sarcastically. He did, however, turn away and head for the elevator to go up to his room.

Joe jerked his arms free and headed for the elevator after the doors dinged and closed.

"Joe," Matt called warningly, worried that he and Shawn should follow him.

"I'm just going to my room," Joe called back without even a glance over his shoulder. "I'm not going after him. If I was, he'd be dead. And I really don't feel up to a murder trial."

With that, Joe stepped onto the elevator when it opened, and smirked at his co-workers till the doors closed.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Seattle, Washington

Ella hurriedly placed her sheet music back into her Opera Workshop binder and then shoved the binder into her backpack. She was about to lift the bag up when she heard someone call out to her—or rather, called out to her alter-ego as Ella came to refer to "Claire Jones".

Ella had stayed hidden for a year, to make sure she and her daughter, Miracle, were safe.

Growing worried for their friend and hating for her to stay secluded, Jolene and Rick encouraged her to find a job she would enjoy or to go to college. Secretly she was dying to have a semblance of a normal life, but felt nervous about leaving Miracle at a daycare. Jolene and Rick were quick to offer babysitting Miracle. After some persuading they convinced her to let them help her.

Soon, Ella was working for an entertainment agency which specialized in booking celebrity impersonators for parties. After a year, she still enjoyed the job, but felt she should do something more. So, she got her GED under her new name, took all the required exams, and tried applying to the University of Washington. She thought getting accepted was most likely laughable since she only had a GED to show in place of a diploma. However, her ACT and SAT scores were extremely good, and she was surprised to find a letter in her mail box a couple months later with an appointment time for her to have an interview. The letter made it clear the admissions office was still only considering her because of the fact she only had a GED. But they were impressed with her ACT and SAT scores, so they wanted to find out a little more about her in order to make a fair decision.

She went for the interview, and explained that she had some musical training, and she wished to enroll in the music program. She informed the admissions counselor that she'd be happy to take any kind of musical exam necessary and she'd also be willing to audition before the opera director. And so they arranged for it to be done.

She received another letter two weeks later, stating she had been accepted. And for the next three years she worked gradually at earning a bachelor of music degree in vocal performance.

"Claire?"

Ella aborted her thoughts of the past and shot her gaze upward to her opera instructor's face. He'd obviously been talking to her. "I'm sorry, Dr. Jennings. What were you saying?"

"I said, I see you've not signed up to audition for La Traviata. Why," the instructor asked, sitting on the edge of his desk in the corner of the large choral room.

She concentrated on zipping and unzipping her backpack nervously, and shrugged slightly. "I just don't really think I can."

"What do you mean," Dr. Jennings asked, his forehead creasing with confusion. "You've been training in opera for several years now. You're going to graduate in a little more than a month, and you can't perform an opera?"

"Well," Ella started, "I just… I have my final exam coming up. I have four pieces I have to perform in front of an audience, and I want them to be perfect. Not to mention I'm a single mom. I don't think I have the time to take on an actual role in a full-fledged opera."

"Claire, you can do this," the instructor coaxed. "I know you can. You already have those four pieces perfect. I've heard you practicing as well as when you sing them in front of me for your vocal lessons."

Ella just stared for a moment, deep in thought. "I don't know." The idea was tempting. But it would mean Jolene and Rick having to baby sit Miracle a lot more. And while they seem to enjoy having her over, I hate to ask them to alter their schedules to help me out.

"Claire, I want you to play the role of Violetta. It's a soprano role and there are only two seniors who are sopranos. You're the better one."

"But, there are several sophomores or juniors to choose from, "Ella objected. "I mean, they're younger and so their voices would probably be stronger-"

"No, Claire. You talk like you're ancient. You're what, twenty-nine?"

"Th-thirty," Ella stammered, struggling to not let slip that she was actually two years younger than "Claire Jones".

"So there. I was really close," he stepped right in front of Ella. "Claire, your voice is what I'm looking for. I want you to audition of course, to make sure the music meshes well with your voice, but if it goes anything the way I'm imagining, it will be absolutely perfect."

"But what if my final pieces suffer because I'm learning all these new pieces?"

"We'll get you an understudy. Make me a deal. Try out, and if it sounds good, you get to be Violetta. Then give it just two weeks, and see how it goes. If it's too much of a load for you, we'll get your understudy to take over."

Ella nodded and gave in, "Okay. I'll try."

"Good. And I know you can do this. You were born to sing, Claire."

She looked up at him and smiled for the first time in a long time. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Dr. Jennings returned. "You just took some stress off my shoulders."

"And you just added some to mine," she joked, lifting her backpack onto her shoulders. She glanced at her watch. "Well, I'd better go. I'm going to be late for a booking."

The instructor nodded. "Okay. But take care of that voice. Don't damage it."

"I won't," Ella said, heading for the door. "And I'll drink plenty of water and hot tea. Bye, Dr. Jennings."

"Bye, Claire."

With that, Ella turned and headed out of the classroom, and took the side exit from the Fine Arts building. She jogged to her car parked a block away, and headed to her house to get into full costume for her next job. She'd be lucky to have a bite of lunch before she had to leave for the Quinceanera she had to perform at.

As Selena Quintanilla-Perez, no less.

She loved the late singer, and her music too. But being a fair-skinned woman with blue eyes and curly hair made the role a challenge. Not to mention, she was not quite as curvy as Selena.

"Oh, well," Ella thought out loud. "Have fun with it, and the kids will have fun too."

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"¡Feliz cumpleaños a Sophie!

¡Feliz cumpleaños a ti!"

Ella finished singing "Happy Birthday" to the newly turned fifteen-year-old who had—according to Latin culture—left her childhood behind and became a woman. She brushed some strands of the long black "Selena" wig out of her temporary brown eyes, and accepted the glass of champagne that was passed to her. Then everyone raised their glasses and toasted the young woman before them.

Ella eyed the young girl and couldn't help letting her mind wander.

It's hard to believe I was only three years older than she is, when I married Joe—when I got pregnant.

She couldn't believe ten years had passed, and that her little girl was already nine years old. Ella smiled thinking about how beautiful she was already. Miracle had pale skin like Ella but with Joe's olive tone rather than her mother's peach hue, and she had Joe's ebony-colored eyes. Her hair was long, black—as black as Joe's—and full of waves like Ella's.

Ella shook her head, realizing she needed to focus on the party. She fought off a surge of sadness at thinking of Joe, and forced a smile to her face. She raised both her glass and microphone and, feeling compelled to speak, gave the girl a small speech in Spanish, seeing as the family did not speak English. Luckily, Ella had excelled in Spanish during high school as well as her early college years.

"Abrigue sus años adolescentes. Van más rápido que puede darse cuenta de. Puédale disfruta de cada y cada uno de ellos."

Essentially, Ella told the girl to cherish her teenage years because they go faster than one can imagine. She added that she hoped the girl enjoyed each and every one of those years. With that, she saluted the girl with her glass and said, "Salud." Then she took a sip of the fruity champagne to seal the toast. She watched Sophie smile happily as she received numerous hugs from friends and family. The occasion was such a light, uplifting one full of laughter and happiness.

To Ella's surprise, Sophie approached her next and latched onto her, hugging her closely.

"Gracias tanto. Canta tan hermosamente. Como el Selena verdadero. Estoy contento que fue una parte de mi quinceanera."

Ella smiled down at the girl and returned the hug, blinking back happy tears. Sophie had told her she sang like the real Selena, and she was glad Ella had been a part of her quinceanera. The girl was so appreciative it touched Ella deeply.

"Entonces sea yo, Sophie. Ha sido un hermoso partido."

She let the teenager know she was also glad to be a part of the beautiful party, and hugged her again. Then she had to say her goodbyes, and receive her pay for the time she spent entertaining. After loading up her sound equipment, she arrived at her home about a half hour later and went inside, opting to leave her equipment inside her black Chevy Tahoe.

Knowing Miracle was being picked up from school and babysat by Jolene for the evening, Ella felt free to take her time in heating up a slice of pizza. As the food heated, she pulled off her wig and headed upstairs to the spare bedroom where she kept all her costumes and wigs. Placing the wig on its wig head, she gave it a gentle brushing and then placed a plastic bag over it to keep it protected. She knew she had three hours till her next booking, but she couldn't remember the details about her last job of the day. She knew it was Christina Aguilera, but her boss had given her a sheet of notes regarding the party.

Grabbing her booking binder, she looked over the paper and immediately rolled her eyes.

The booking was made only a week before.

"That's strange," she thought out loud. "Bookings usually have to be made at least a month in advance."

She went downstairs to her foyer and grabbed her purse, pulling her cell phone out. She quickly called her boss to find out why the booking had been made so recently.

"Royal Talent Entertainment Agency…This is Lyle, how may I help you?"

"Lyle, it's Claire…This booking I have tonight at 10:15-"

"The Christina Aguilera gig?"

"Yes. Why was the booking allowed? I mean, it was only booked a week ago."

"They offered an exorbitant amount of money for you to perform as Christina for tonight."

"Really?" At first Ella was flattered, but she quickly became suspicious. "Okay, and…" she scanned over the various notes left for her. "I have to perform 'Dirrty', right down to dressing in the panties and chaps?" Now, she was thoroughly disgusted. "What is this, Lyle? No one has ever told me how to do my job right down to what I wear. I can't go parading around in my underwear! I'm a singer and impersonator for crying out loud!" She took a breath and continued her rant. "Lyle, they even provided a DVD of 'Dirrty's music video so I can copy exactly what she wears! It's just gross!"

"Look, Claire. You have to do the gig. They paid the money up front, and they are expecting you to do what's on that note sheet."

"And what if I just quit? This goes against my morals, Lyle. I don't have to do this, you know. I can afford to take the time to find another job."

"We have a contract, and if you do quit, I'll sue you for breach of contract."

Ella halted. He was right. She still had two months left on her deal with the agency.

"And you wouldn't dare give me a break would you? After the years of hard work I've put in for you, you can't cut me a little slack?"

"Look, it's just a bachelor party. They guys just want to see a pretty girl get up and sing some provocative songs and dance around a little. And the pay is big."

"I don't care about the pay," Ella hissed. "I care about doing things that won't ruin my reputation! What if Miracle saw me-"

"Well I care about the pay! Now, you are doing this! If I hear of you pulling a no-show, you're in big trouble!"

The phone clicked in her ear.

Ella groaned and tossed her phone aside, "Ugh! I'm in no way going to be signing another contract with that jerk!" She suddenly wished she had recorded the phone conversation with Lyle for her own personal records. Quickly she popped in the DVD and made mental notes of Christina's mannerisms and a few of the dance moves to use. Then she wrote a list of what she would need for a costume.

She quickly ate her slice of pizza and then spent the next hour fixing herself up as the vivacious Gwen Stefani for her six o'clock booking. After she finished with her wig and makeup, she began going over what songs to perform, and doing her vocal warm-ups. By the time she was done with her preparations, it was time to leave for the birthday bash. Grabbing a bottle of water, she then hurried to her car and left for the party.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Ease up, Joe! Ease up," Shawn Hernandez managed to choke out as Joe strengthened his hold on a rear naked choke.

"Suck it up," Joe growled in return, and tightened his hold even more. In the next instant, the large Mexican wrestler was tapping the canvas frantically as the fans cheered.

The bell rang at the referee's command, and then Joe stood to his feet, ready for his next—and last—opponent for the evening.

As a result of Joe's comments about Ella, Jeff had become so angry that he uncharacteristically made a hasty decision. Wanting to make Joe's night rough on him, he set the Samoan up for a gauntlet match in which he faced Matt Morgan, Kurt Angle, then Hernandez, and finally…Jeff, himself.

The veteran's music started and Jeff charged down the ramp, purposefully headed for the ring. He saw the glare on Joe's face and knew the match would not be an easy one in the least.

As one of the company's top heels, Joe was scripted to win, but Jeff vowed he would not make it a simple win for his friend.

For the two wrestlers, this particular match was about retribution, not entertainment value. Both men held a lot of anger, and Jeff knew it would turn into a full-fledged war before the match ended.

He entered the ring and stood facing Joe for only an instant before lunging into an offense of right hands, punches, and various attacks on Joe's mid-section.

Caught by surprise, Joe didn't get a start on his attack till Jeff had Irish whipped him into one of the six corners. Both men were aware of the "Joe's Gonna Kill You" chant, as the larger wrestler slammed Jeff with his hardest punches, and finally took him down to the canvas.

Jeff tried to intercept him by grabbing for his throat, but Joe pinned his arms down to his sides and proceeded to give his boss a very hard head-butt.

Jeff cried out and felt blood running down his forehead. Upon glancing up at Joe, he saw that the Samoan was also busted open. He looked into his black eyes and was surprised when he didn't see anger.

He saw pain. And it wasn't physical pain he detected. It hit Jeff like a ton of bricks. He realized that Joe was angry at himself. He blamed himself for Ella's death. His hostility over the past decade had not been due to blaming everyone around him as Jeff had once thought. Joe was instead taking his self-loathing out on his opponents.

"Joe…" he muttered, wrenching his arms free. He shot his fist into Joe's mouth to buy him a few seconds. "This doesn't have to go down like this."

Joe grabbed Jeff's throat and began slamming Jeff's head against the canvas.

"Joe! Listen! It wasn't your fault!"

Joe halted his attack and just stared at Jeff.

"Put your choke hold on me. I'll tap out, and we can talk," Jeff whispered.

Glaring, Joe did as he said and grabbed Jeff holding him firmly in his signature submission maneuver. Jeff pretended to put up a struggle for a few seconds—for the crowd's benefit—and then tapped out as Hernandez had done only minutes before.

Again the bell rang, and the referee took Joe's hand, raising it and signifying Joe was the winner of the gauntlet.

Joe didn't wait for Jeff, he just ducked under the ropes and stomped backstage.

Why do I get the feeling he could care less about talking, Jeff thought, also ducking under the ropes. He headed back up the ramp and hurried past the curtain. Once he was in the hallway, he saw Joe walking down the hall. He entered his dressing room and slammed the door.

"How will I ever get through to him," Jeff wondered out loud.

"I'd say wait him out," AJ suggested, having heard Jeff's frustrated words as he approached the veteran.

"I'd say that too, if I hadn't already waited ten years," Jeff returned, casting a weary glance at AJ. "But maybe a little more waiting is in order."

}i{}i{}i{}i{

The Gwen Stefani gig went a lot easier than Ella expected. She had to keep her energy up, of course, since Gwen was known for her bouncy stage-presence, but all in all, the party went well. The kids, teenagers and adults all seemed to enjoy the songs she performed, and a plus was—since she needed to shop for her Christina gig—she got to leave a lot sooner than she did with the quinceanera.

A couple of men helped her load her sound equipment into the back of her car, and she hurried to the mall to pick up some lingerie.

"There's no way I'm dancing around in some of my own underwear," she told herself. "That just feels wrong." She decided she would be trashing what she wore for the bachelor party later that night. Quickly, she looked at the list of items she needed and randomly grabbed a pair of red panties and matching bra, not really caring if the set was what the guys would like or not. Then groaning with dismay, she saw "chaps" written down on the list, and realized she might have to enter an adult store.

"Oh, no. How am I going to do this?"

Shaking her head she forced herself to focus. Reading the rest of the list, she noted she had the blond wig covered, but she would need to get some black clip-in extensions, and she already had a pair of black flat-heeled boots which would work fine under the chaps.

"Almost done," she whispered, heading for the cashier's desk. Once her lingerie was paid for, she reluctantly headed for Spencer's, an adult novelty store. She quickly searched and was successful in finding a pair of chaps that would work. She also grabbed a can of spray tan which would wash off with her next shower, and she found a package of brunette clip-in extensions for her wig as well. Her face flaming red, she hurried to the check-out counter and paid for her items. Luckily, the cashier seemed to think nothing of the chaps.

He's probably used to selling stuff like this all the time, she thought gratefully.

Less than an hour later, she was back at her home, applying the spray tan to allow it time to dry, and then she was planning out her makeup.

"Thank goodness Jolene and Rick are babysitting," she thought aloud. "I'd die if my daughter saw me looking like this."

Upon removing her red lipstick, she discovered she could make her makeup similar to Christina's simply by applying more eyeliner and smudging it into a thick smoky eye. Applying some shiny gloss to her lips, her makeup was complete. Then she grabbed one of her long blond wigs, and began hastily clipping black hair throughout the blond locks.

"It's not like it needs to look perfect," she muttered. "Christina really did look 'dirty' in that video!" she added inwardly. "How do I get myself into these messes?"

She pulled on the "clothes" next and her jaw dropped when she looked at herself in the mirror.

"I can't wear this. I just can't!" Her mind raced as tears of frustration threatened to pour. "I have to do something." She ran for her closet and ransacked the large area for anything which might help mask the horrid costume. "I'd be more covered in a HOOTERS outfit for crying out loud," she nearly screamed in anger. Her eyes fell on a pair of red hot pants. They were still extremely revealing, but were a far cry more decent than what she had on. "They can just deal with it," she growled, pulling off the chaps so she could put on the less revealing garment. Once she had the matter settled, she tugged on her pair of black boots, and then looked at herself in the mirror again.

"I'm never going to live this down."

She went downstairs then and began her vocal warm-ups for the second time that evening.

In the next hour, she finished getting ready and grabbed a long black coat which covered her almost completely, and then drove to the address she'd been given.

Pulling into a parking space, she looked up at the building and flinched.

"No way."

At the top of the building, she saw a huge, neon sign flashing the words: "BODY SHOTS"

"A bar," Ella demanded. "Seriously?! Lyle really expects me to go into a club for a bachelor party and…" she trailed off, knowing her rant was pointless. She had to do this. Otherwise, Lyle would sue her and she'd risk her picture being on the news and in the newspapers. Fournier would be able to find her if he was still looking.

So, she gathered her nerve, stepped out of her vehicle, and tightened her coat around her slender frame, apprehensive about being seen in such rags. She stepped up to the building and was startled when the large wooden door opened suddenly and two men emerged.

"Hey, doll," one of them said, smiling at her. Obviously he was already drunk. "Are you the impersonator?"

"Seeing as I'm dressed like a floozy, yes that's me," Ella didn't even attempt to hide her disdain. I may have to be here, but I never promised to have a great attitude, she thought. Maybe that's my way out of that contract. Make customers angry till Lyle is itching to get rid of me!

The two men stood aside and let Ella walk by to enter the building. She heard the door bang shut behind her and discovered she was in a dead bar with only a handful of men. Her eyes then fell on a stage, equipped with several stripper poles. The area was lit up as if it would be in use.

Yet there are no strippers here, Ella thought in dread. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Something isn't right here.

She felt her coat being removed and she had to fight the urge to yank it back around her.

Stay calm, and just play along, she thought to herself. I need to make them keep their guard down and catch them by surprise so I can get out of here. Screw Lyle and his contract.

"So, am I early or something," Ella asked, crossing her arms across her chest, hoping to hide some of her cleavage. When the action seemed to exacerbate the problem instead, she lowered her arms to her sides.

"Nope, why," asked one of the other men.

"Well, I was told my gig was for a bachelor party," Ella answered. "And the club appears closed too. What's going on?"

"Jim here owns this joint," a third man said, slapping a younger one on the back. "It's just us for the party."

"Five men? Not much of a party if you ask me," Ella replied. "This is awfully expensive for just a small group of guys. Are you sure you want to go through with my services?"

The men all laughed, and one of them began walking around Ella in a small circle, looking at her from top to bottom, and from every angle. He reminded her of a wolf stalking and closing in on his prey.

"Oh, we want to go through with your services all right," one of the other men guffawed.

"Please, stop," Ella tried to sound firm. "I'm a singer—an…an impersonator. I don't strip or anything."

"Well that's fine," the man circling her said, and grabbed hold of her wrists. "We can take care of that for you." He looked down as Ella gasped, and took note of her attire. "You didn't wear only panties. We didn't ask for those boy-short things." Ella screamed as he reached down and ripped both the chaps and her hot pants from her body. Now she was simply clad in her matching bra and panty set and boots. He latched onto her and grasped her hips.

"Let go of me!"

Ella screamed in a mixture of fear and rage as she was slammed up against one of the stripper poles and pinned in place by his strong body. The harsh cold metal dug into her back and the man wasn't helping matters as he pressed against her.

"Stay still," he commanded, as his hands roamed over her hips.

Without thinking her actions through, Ella shot her knee upward and rammed it into the man's groin.

He groaned in pain and instantly fell to his knees.

Ella lunged forward and headed for the door. Luckily, what with the men all being drunk, they were slow to react. Their incompetence bought her the time she desperately needed. She quickly reached the entrance and yanked on the door.

It didn't budge.

"No!"

Ella tried it again, this time pushing on it.

It still didn't move.

"Let me out," she screamed in a panic, pounding on the door. She spun around to find the drunk men all stumbling toward her, just like a bunch of creepy zombies from Night of the Living Dead.

She immediately took note of her surroundings and saw the huge window only a few feet away. Grabbing up a chair, she bashed it against the window.

Nothing.

"Come on," she yelled in frustration, slamming the chair against the window again.

This time, the window shattered into millions of pieces and fragments. Before the men could reach her, she dove out the broken window, trying not to cut herself.

Relieved to be back outside, she didn't watch where she was going as she ran. In the next instant she bumped into what she thought must be a wall. But then she felt hands grab her arms and steady her. She screamed at the contact and looked up at either her attacker, or her would-be rescuer. She could not make out his face in the darkness in order to determine if he was friend or foe. So, she decided to test him and find out.

"Please! Help me!"