#what 16 series will do to a motherfucker

[eternal-confusion-of-han]

how it started

how it's going

[what-even-is-sleep]

I come on tumblr for ONE MINUTE to post about my conundrums and all the sudden tumblr becomes my conundrum

[belbeten]

To cope with… well, you know... ::makes vague gesture:: EVERYTHING for the last 3 years, I’ve been puttering away at a series of cross stitch projects to cheer myself up through the effective combination of (1) swearing and (2) stabbing.

10/10 highly recommend. Here’s what I’ve made so far:

[ID: Photo 1: Overhead photo of a group of 9 cross stitch hoops and a rectangular framed cross stitch. They contain various swear words and motivational messages related to swearing.

Photo 2: Overhead photo of a cross stitch hoop with black fabric and the word "fuck!" stitched in rainbow gradient lowercase cursive letters, circled by rainbow French knots. The hoop is surrounded by bobbins of thread in rainbow colors.

Photo 3: Close up photo of a cross stitch hoop with the word "fuck!" is stitched in rainbow cursive letters, surrounded by French knots.

Photo 4: Overhead photo of 4 cross stitch hoops in navy blue or white fabric. In small text they each have repetitive swear words stitched: (1) goddamnit, (2) oh shit, (3) fuck, and (4) bitch.

Photo 5: Overhead photo of a framed cross stitch with blue fabric. The white large-font stitched text reads: "Don't give up. You can swear the whole time. Just don't give up." There is small yellow cursive text stitched inserted with a caret in between "whole" and "time" that reads "motherfucking goddamn".

Photo 6: Close up photo of a cross stitch hoop with pink fabric. The purple and silver stitched text reads: "Maybe swearing will help?"

Photo 7: Close up photo of a group of 7 cross stitch hoops with fabric that is either white, navy blue, pink, or light blue. They each have repetitive swear words stitched in a small font: (1) bloody hell, (2) bitch, (3) fuck, (4) oh shit, (5) assorted swear words with tangled thread, (6) goddamnit, (7) assorted swear words and insults. /.End ID]

Crafty details and more info under the cut.

Many of these (especially the mini hoops) were done in between working on larger projects, to take a little break from full coverage pieces, or to use up leftover fabric or leftover thread. I’d never finished the back of an embroidery hoop using felt before, and did several of the hoops so I would have a chance to practice my blanket stitch and whip stitch. I also wanted to experiment with dyeing fabric, and getting more practice with French knots.

Fabric and size details:

Each of the small hoops are 3-inch with 14-count aida.

The rainbow fuck! is a 5-inch hoop with 16-count black aida.

The pink Maybe swearing will help is a 5-inch hoop with 14-count aida (dyed in grape koolaid, lol!), and uses DMC Satin Floss #S762. (Never again!)

And the Don’t give up piece is 8" by 10" on 14-count Nordic Blue aida.

Pattern credits:

Lettering for the rainbow fuck! hoop was modified from Oh Wow Stitch on Etsy.

Font for the Don’t give up piece was from adapted from SuncatcherStudio.

And I've seen the quote "maybe swearing will help" stitched a bunch, but wanted to make my own pattern for it. I had a lot of fun hiding some grawlixes among the flowery vine. :)

Totally okay to reblog but please do not repost to other sites. Thanks!

[moongothic]

Okay so realistically speaking, giving birth is an excruciating, painful nightmare, and from the few Crocodad fics I've seen most people seem to prefer to write realistic pregnancy and make Luffy's birth a (physically) painful thing. Because it makes sense, it might be more relatable for some writers that way etc, and that's perfectly fine (like genuinely, it's not an issue at all, this is not a critique or a complaint)

God I don't know how to make this segue- Have any of you watched Ore Monogatari!! (My Love Story)? It's a great early 2010s romantic comedy series, funny as hell, super cute and sweet, would reccomend, but that aside. During the series the protagonist Takeo's mother gets pregnant and she ends up giving birth to Takeo's baby sister. And it's that scene, where Takeo's baby sister is born, that I keep on thinking back to whenever I wonder how Luffy's birth might've gone.

Takeo and his mother alike are Sturdy Motherfuckers. Like absolute gigachads, borderline superhuman, it's great and it's funny as hell. And because of that near superhuman nature... Takeo's mother goes to give birth at 4:15 pm. And she has finished giving birth at 4:16 pm. One fucking minute is what it took for this woman to bring a child into this world. An absolute legend

The screencaps do not do justice to how fucking funny this is in the actual episode

And so like

Like we know Crocodile's been through absolute hell, being an amputee and all. And as Domino told us at the entrance of Impel Down, we also know the man did not even flinch when forced into Impel Down's traditional 200 Celsius cleansing bath (or 392F)

So Crocodile has better pain tolerance than the average person. Like, you might have to put in a bit of effort to cause him actually hurt. So if giving birth to Luffy was an absolute cakewalk for Crocodile, not only would it make perfect sense in-universe and be completely in-character for him, but also

It would be objectively funny as hell

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 16

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Series Masterlist

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February 14th 2021

Airielle could barely concentrate on the movie Josh put on after dinner. Her mind was racing as she contemplated her future with Josh. It was clear to her now that she was in love with Josh.  What if things didn’t work out between them? What if he decided that he didn’t want her nomore and wanted to get back together with Tracy? She didn’t think she could handle another broken heart. 

“Hey you good” Josh asked, coming back to the couch with her glass that he just refilled with wine. Airielle gave him a tight nod and accepted the glass he was handing her, taking a long drink, almost draining the whole glass. Josh watched with a smirk on his face. She was adorable when she was nervous.  “Talk to me Airielle.” 

Now or never Airielle, put on your big girl panties and tell that man how you feel!. She heard Yasmine’s voice yell in her head. She let out a sigh before draining the rest of the glass. 

“I love you.” She blurted out and closed her eyes, waiting for the rejection to come. Of course he’s gonna reject you! You ignored him for days. You think he wants to put up with you? The voice in her head said and Airielle had to quickly push those thoughts away as Josh grabbed her hand. 

“Hey, look at me.” Airielle slowly opened her eyes to look at him. “I love you too.” 

“Deadass?” She breathed out, making him laugh. 

“Duh,” He teased. “Look around Rih. The heart balloons, the flowers, rose petals on the table. Takeout from your favorite restaurant almost a hour away..” 

“But.. It's valentine’s day.” She said with a shrug. “I just thought you were being nice..” 

Josh snorted. “Nice would be me just getting you the wine and a box of chocolates and calling it a day. This” he gestured around the apartment. “This is my professing my love for you. This is my showing you how much you mean to me and how much I want to be with you Airielle.” 

“Oh.” was all Airielle could get out. 

“Look, We love eachother no doubt and I want to be with you but do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes,” she said immediately. “I do want to be with you. I’m just scared I told you that last time.” 

“And I told you, you don’t have nothing to be scared of when it comes to me and you.” 

“So what does this mean?” 

“It means you mine and I'm yours and aint nothing or nobody coming in between us.” 

“But what about Tracy?” 

“Imma handle her, I shoulda put my foot down when she didn’t leave after dropping my sons off. None of that shit will ever happen again. I promise you that.” 

“Promise?” She asked, holding out her pinky to him. He nodded with a chuckle before connecting their pinkies together and placing a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“Promise, but uh- we gotta talk about you and homeboy” He rolled his eyes when she had a confused look on her face. “Oh- I would never dream of fumbling you.” He mocked in a high-pitched tone.  She tried to contain her laugh but she couldn’t with the look of utter disgust on his face. “And then you had the nerve to like that shit.” 

“I’m sorry.” She said still laughing

“Man, that shit had me hot. Just wait until I see that motherfucker…”

February 16th 2021

Airielle let out a soft moan as she slowly arose from her slumber. “Oh shit” she whispered, opening her eyes and making eye contact with Josh who was settled between her legs with his tongue gently lapping at her clit. 

“Mmm, happy birthday baby.” 

“Thank yo-ohh” her response was cut short as he sucked her clit into his mouth, he chucked against her sex as one of her hands moved down to grip his hair between her fingers. Her orgasm hit her immediately, her thighs shaking as Josh didn’t stop his torment on her pussy. “Jesus Christ,” she moaned pushing his head away when it got to be too much. 

“Happy birthday.” He said again as he kissed his way back up her body and connecting their lips together. She moaned into the kiss sliding her hands down his chest and abs, he let out a moan once she cupped him through his boxers.  “We don’t have time.” Airielle ignored him, slipping one hand inside of his boxer and stroking him. 

“But it’s my birthday.” She whispered against his lips. “Shouldn’t I get what I want?”'

“Y-yeah” he stuttered  back, pumping his hips to match her strokes. “You can have whatever you want.” He let out a groan when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. She pouted when he abruptly pulled away from her and moved over the bed.  

“Josh.” She whined sitting up in his bed and crossing her arms over her exposed breast. He chuckled and threw her shower cap at her. 

“You got about 20 minutes before Trin and your cousins get here.” she arched her eyebrow but didn't say anything as she stood up from the bed and strutted over to him. “Airielle,” He warned, eyes on the ceiling so he wasn't looking at her naked body. She rolled her eyes with a grin and walked past him into the bathroom. 

“So..” Yasmine trailed off as she, Airielle, Trinity  and Asheley got settled in the empty beauty bar. “Are you happy?” Airelle nodded as she thanked the worker for her mimosa. 

“I am, like this is crazy..” She gestured around to the empty shop that was decorated for her birthday. She was.. shocked for a lack of better words when they walked into the shop to find a ‘Happy Birthday Airielle’ banner taped to the reception desk and a balloon garland at the entrance. 

She was also shocked to find out that Josh had put his credit card on file so whatever service they wanted was already paid for. 

“Oh, you mean none of your ex-boyfriends never bought out a salon for you to get pampered on your birthday?” Ashley said with a teasing smile. 

“It’s the fact that he paid enough to where they could close for the entire day and not miss out on any funds.” Trin said with a smile, proud of her brother in law. This was the top black owned spa/beauty bar in Pensacola and Airielle had mentioned that she wanted to go here, so why not go all out for her birthday? 

“You are a lucky girl.” The nail tech smiled at Airielle 

“Yeah,” Airielle breathed out with a slight chuckle. It was crazy to her that a couple of days ago she was willing to walk away from a relationship with Josh. She was willing to lock her love for him away in a box in the back of her mind with her mother and … nope she still wasn’t ready to think about that. Even though it was years ago it was still a raw and sensitive topic. 

“Imma need to find me a man like Josh..” Ashley said as they walked into one of Airielle’s favorite boutiques to find it set up similar to the beauty bar. 

“Welcome, my name is Aliyah and you must be Airielle.” She said looking at Airielle who nodded. “You ladies have free reign, a Mr. Fatu has put his card on file for you all and said there is no limit.” Airielle’s eyes widened as she looked at the other three women. “Oh and happy birthday.” Aliyah smiled before going to the back of the store where Airielle assumed her office was. 

“And you were willing to give all this up because you were scared..” Yasmine said, chuckling when Airielle gave her a shove. As the three other women went to start looking for dresses, Airielle pulled out her phone to text Josh. 

To Josh❤️🫶🏽: any more surprises?  From Josh❤️🫶🏽oh beautiful, i got a whole bunch of shit up my sleeve  From Josh❤️🫶🏽 you havin a good time though?  To Josh❤️🫶🏽 Yes, thank you, best mani/pedi i ever experienced.  From Josh❤️🫶🏽: you deserve it. I’ll see you when you get back.

“Stop texting that man and come help us spend his money!” She heard Ashley yell out. And spend his money they did. She knew when Josh got his credit card statement later that month he would probably have a mini heart attack. 

“You sure yo’ eyes closed?” Josh questioned Airielle as he led her inside of the restaurant where her ‘surprise’ birthday dinner was. She wasn’t sure why she needed to be blind folded if she planned the dinner herself . 

“Yes Josh, my eyes are closed. I have a blindfold on Josh, I can’t see anything.” 

“Aight just checking”  She rolled her eyes under the blindfold and let him guide her where he wanted her to go. “Okay ready?” She nodded and he took off her blindfold. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Airielle let out a gasp as she took in the room. They had completely transformed the private room to fit her aesthetic .

“Oh my god.” She whispered, looking around the room, a smile making a way onto her face.

“You like it?” Josh asked and Airielle could hear the uncertainty in his voice. She turned around to face him.

“I love it Josh.” She whispered, throwing her arms around his neck and bringing her mouth to his in a sweet and soft kiss, giggling at the chorus of ‘awe’s’ from her guest and a shout of ‘hands!’ from her dad when Josh let his hands slide down to her butt. Josh immediately removed his hands from her body and held them up causing the group to laugh.

This was the best birthday Airielle had had in years and it was all thanks to Josh. If this was what being loved by  him was like… she could get used it. 

AIRIELLEJONES

liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu and 193,000 others

AirielleJones : 30 never looked this good 🎂

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@uceyjucey: damn it's my birthday or urs? 🔥. (❤️ by author)

@user: green looks good on u sis!

@trinity_fatu: hey now! don't be tryna come for my green gig lol. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIS!! ❤️😘 WE TURNIN UP TONIGHT! ( ❤️ by author)

@yasmine_jones: happy b-day fav ( ❤️ by author)

@ashley_reign : woah! ( ❤️ by author)

HELLO! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 🫣

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

[therulerofallpotatos]

Language: English Series: Part 1 of Two of a Kind

Summary:

The study of hydes has been frought with danger, barriers, and the inability to find a sample size that is both numerous enough to make generalizations over the species and divorced from trauma. Tyler Galpin is no exception to this rule, as he grew up with no knowledge of what he was, no knowledge of where he came from, and no way to protect himself from the woman who would become his master. Wednesday Addams grew up with every answer she could ask for from a loving family who would do anything for her, and who knew how to love her for what she was. She grew up safe, and happy, and strong. Tyler Galpin's hyde was unlocked when he was 16 years old by a woman who he can do nothing to defend himself against. Wednesday Addams unlocked her own hyde at six years old, and has known no other master since.

IT'S MOTHERFUCKING POSTED BISHES

@realmermaid333 @suchaladyy @nonamemanga @ourdramaqueen @remusjohnslupin @realisticintentions @persephoneed i don't know who all wants tagged but guys guys guys

Chapter One is officially available!

Chapter 2, 3,

[around1302]

XVI. OUR SONG

SPARE PARTS: a series (16/20)

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

(W) strong language, slight handjobs, cockwarming, implant protected sex, drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

Deciding to go for a nap after those events of the living area was a good idea in theory. Sleep the next two hours away, pretend like it never happened, wake up in Amsterdam and get ridiculously high.

But ideas are always better in theory.

Slowly after I collapsed onto my bed, pulled the curtain and forced the blankets to my eyes, I heard the rest of the guys trudge through. They were probably talking about Harry and I before returning to the beds, and my stomach had been churning at the thought until I decided to just distract myself on Twitter.

Now, I’m a hundred tweets deep into a debate on cockwarming. Weird, weird morning.

Scanning through the words with a furrowed brow, I can’t understand the debate. I don’t particularly understand the activity. My sex life has been pretty sheltered (by choice, I might add) and warming a cock isn’t something I’m especially used to.

So, I text the biggest slut I know.

have u ever tried cockwarming?

Sent 06:04

I’m not even sure if he’s awake, or willing to answer that question, so I quickly return to Twitter and–

I practically throw my phone across the small space as orange light is suddenly shed into my bunk, the speed and sound of the curtain making me gasp loudly and nearly bang my head on Niall’s bunk above me.

My heart’s still beating a million miles a minute, but I start to calm down when I realise I’m not about to be murdered (I think) and that it’s just Harry – looking like he woke up all of two seconds ago.

“What?” He hisses, mussed curls hanging around the collarbones beneath the Fleetwood shirt he’s adorning.

“Ssh,” I quickly interrupt, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. “Someone’s gonna hear, what are you doing?”

Without warning, Harry starts to climb in, moving me up the twin mattress full we’re squashed together and then he draws the curtain back – leaving us in pitch darkness. I blindly reach above me to pull the dim bunk lighting on, noticing just how tired his features look. He’s all puffy lips and cloudy eyes looking down at me.

“Harry, someone’s going to know–”

He lifts a finger to his lips, silencing me as he holds up his phone, revealing my message. I gulp. My eyes meet his, trying to mentally have some sort of conversation.

I’m laid on my back, him hovering half above me on his left elbow so that his legs are pressed firmly against mine. By accident, pure instinct, muscle memory if anything – I look down. His sweatpants seem to have swelled in the same place they had before.

It’s dangerous, especially considering everyone on this bus – in this room – know about us now. But fuck it. We never finished what we started, and I didn’t mean to trigger something with that text, but I’m not one to complain about a little spontaneity. What else have we got left to lose?

So I press my thumb over his and lock his phone, slipping it next to mine at wall side of the bunk. I reach between us, my hand finding his semi and palming him through his joggers.

Harry gasps, loudly, to which I glare at him and stop.

He mouths an apology, sealing it with a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. I hide a smile as I begin to palm him again, basking in the glorious sight that is Harry Styles becoming undone around my touch.

The motherfucker always has to one up me, however.

His hand slips back into my sweats, rubbing me over my knickers and picking up a speed that has me gasping. I bite my lip, the eye contact nearly unbearable as we get each other more hot, more bothered by the second.

When his fingers move my pants to the side and start to swipe over my bare clit, I have to bury my head in his chest and muffle my quiet cries against his shirt. My hips buck against his fingers, and the moment I grip the side of his hip he whispers,

“Please.”

I lift my head, understanding his plea and quickly nodding. I push his joggers down, pulling his briefs with them, and start to work his dick – achingly hard. He shivers when I touch him, biting down on my shoulder before flipping us over. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, gripping for dear life onto his left forearm loosely hanging around my neck.

Harry pulls my sweats down too (a difficult feat in a twin sized box) and reaches around to keep rubbing at my clit. Something about Harry’s fingers are fucking magic; it needs to be studied. Scientifically.

He kisses the spot on my shoulder he bit earlier, lifting my right leg a little as he guides himself into me. I turn my face into his arm, mouth hanging open as I push back. I can feel his short gasps into my hair, the way his bicep tenses around me. He holds my hip to pull me back and forth against him, slowly, and my fingers dig half-moons into his skin while they blanch and I try my best not to make a noise.

The bed has other plans, however.

Any sudden movement makes the mattress creak, and the more he thrusts in and out, the more I can feel it shake, too. Harry seems to notice, as well, because he’s getting slower with each squeak and pauses after every shake.

The thrill of it is fun, and the feel of his dick is even funner, but the guys sleeping only a few feet from us makes me grab his thigh behind me.

Maybe we can’t fuck, but I did just read a Hell of a lot about cockwarming.

I shake his thigh a little to make him realise he needs to stop, to which he does and instantly pulls out of me. But, I shake my head, and push his cock back inside me.

“Sweetheart,” Harry pants, “I can’t move.”

“Good,” I whisper, “isn’t that the point?”

It seems to take him a second to remember the actual reason why he came over to my bunk, but when it hits him he breathes out a chuckle and nods against the back of my shoulder.

“Sit up.” I murmur.

Harry does as asked, pulling out of me again so we can change position. We sit up as best we can in the bunk, and soon I’m straddling him and cursing myself for shifting position: he’s hitting deeper, now, and fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea. Especially with how his brows pinch when I sink down on him, when I move my hips slightly to adjust.

“You’re trying to kill me, Greene.”

This position also gives me the chance to look at him again. His features are less tired and more dishevelled now, and I can’t help but trace the outline of his pink lips with my index. He kisses my finger, tracing circles on my back.

It’s a weird feeling, having Harry inside of me, unmoving. Oddly whole, despite my urge to grind, circle, move – anything. It just feels… close. Comforting, if anything.

“Have you ever done this, then?” I murmur.

He tilts his head, a flicker of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Cockwarming?”

The way he says it makes my thighs clench. His jaw does, too. “Sorry.” I huff out a quiet giggle. He smiles.

“Do you really want to talk about my sex life?”

I shrug. “I don’t know anything about your sex life.”

His eyebrows shoot up at that, his tongue poking his cheek. “You seem to give me a lot of shit about something you don’t know.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you fuck, you make that clear. I just…” I trace my hands down his shirt, watching the way the muscles on his arms ripple and his grip on my thighs tighten as I do so. “Tell me about Rachel.”

“You know Rachel.” His tone seems firmer, now.

“I know she bartends with Zayn.” I don’t know why I’m pushing this, I’m not even sure I particularly want to know the ins and outs of what Harry does when he’s not doing me. But a part of me has to know. “Tell me about your relationship with her.”

“We don’t have a relationship.” Harry snaps.

I swallow thickly. I want to tell him to remember to keep his voice down, but the words get stuck in my throat.

“So, what, you just bang her whenever you see her? Smoke her weed, text her when you’re in cities thousands of miles away?”

“We’re friends.”

“You’re friends with your hookups?”

“It is possible, you know.”

“Didn’t think you were capable.”

“Trying to start an argument with my cock inside you isn’t a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“You’d prefer princess again?”

“I’d prefer my name.”

Harry sighs. I tug at the hem of his shirt anxiously as if it were my own. He moves his hands upwards, gripping my hips and grinding me against him, slowly, and only once. The action has my eyes closing, however. I nearly forgot I’m sat on his dick.

“Charlie.” He whispers. My eyes open.

“Charlie,” he repeats, grinding me against him again. My palms flatten against his torso, gasping as he moves me once, twice, three times.

I ball the material of his tee around my fists, starting to move with him. He sits up, his face inches from mine as he snakes one hand up to the nape of my neck and starts to tug at the hair there.

He speaks against my lips, now.

“Charlie.”

With every time he says my name, another level of fuck a squeaky bed and fuck the fact everyone’s in the room adds to how fast I move my hips – until we’re swallowing each others gasps with our mouths and his fingers pull at my hair so tightly I have to hold onto his shoulders for stability.

“Charlie,” he pecks my lips, “Charlie,” another, “Charlie,” another.

My bunk becomes a symphony of hushed moans and my name being relayed back to me in a thousand different progressions of need until we’re coming and his name gets added to the song, too.

“So, since we all heard you guys fucking earlier, I think you owe us the first round.”

I flush red while Harry just rolls his eyes at Niall’s insinuation. I knew it was a bad idea.

“Keep it down, yeah?” Harry shuts him up for us. I smile in gratuity at him.

We’re waiting outside the Grey Area, the coffee shop notoriously small and incredibly popular, whilst I border on an anxiety attack because despite the legality of weed here – I’m convinced someone will recognise us and somehow our careers will be fucked.

Disguised in sunglasses and dark hoodies, we’re practically unrecognisable, but it only takes a staff member to ask us to remove our hoods and boom: shit show.

“Okay, found us a table guys,” Zayn rushes out to us, to which the six of us quickly follow, a trail of guilt behind me.

Zayn still doesn’t know about Harry and I, and yes. No one was supposed to know about Harry and I – but now they do, and the one person it may actually effect is in the dark.

“Isn’t this gonna make us too hungover to perform tomorrow?”

“Weed doesn’t give you a hangover, Niall,” Louis throws his arm around the only newbie, “welcome to the wonderful world of marijuana.”

We all take up our booth, keeping our glasses on and hoping no one spots us. The last thing we want today is a mob. A waiter comes over, smiling sweetly at us all and looking half-high himself.

“Hoi, waarmee kan ik je op weg helpen?”

“Zes mimosa's, alstublieft.”

“Jesus, you speak Dutch, too?”

Harry shrugs beside me, smirking as the waiter thanks him and leaves to put our order in. I’m wedged in between Zayn and Harry – and I don’t even notice till I catch Amelia’s pointed glare and realise why I recognised the scent of cedar and smoke.

“Feel like we haven’t spoken in ages,” Zayn murmurs in my ear once the group splits into conversation. I feel Harry’s hand ghost the space behind my head

Talk about a rock and a hard place.

“Mm,” I murmur, fiddling with my sleeves.

“I don’t want you to feel freaked out,” Zayn keeps his voice low, but I feel Harry’s eyes on my profile. “I know I’ve made my feelings clear, but we’re still friends, yeah?”

“Zayn, I don’t want to get into this here.”

“But I–”

“Six mimosas.”

Our infused drinks are laid before us, thankfully cutting Zayn off and stopping the creeping panic. Harry’s glare cuts from me too, and I sigh in relief before downing my drink before I can participate in the Amelia-triggered cheers.

“Okay…”

Then everyone follows suit.

I raise my hand, gaining the attention of our waiter. I circle my hands around the group, waving my glass. He nods knowingly, disappearing back to the bar.

“Jesus, Charlie. You trying to white out by midday?” Louis guffaws, wiping the liquid from his bottom lip.

“What the fuck is a white out?” Niall looks like a deer in headlights. Everyone chuckles.

“Relax, buddy,” Liam claps his shoulder, “it probably won’t happen.”

“Probably?”

“Shut up before you give the poor guy a heart attack.” Amelia intercepts, reassuringly rubbing Niall’s chin. He sinks into her touch, and I melt at the PDA.

Usually I cringe away and make some childish comment about them getting a room, but lately their affection seems to be something I crave. To touch so openly, to love so visibly. It looks nice.

“You good, Greene?” I hear Harry’s voice in my right ear. I nod a little too largely.

Our next round arrives, and just as I go to tip this one back too, Harry presses his index to the bass of the flute, discreetly keeping it to the table.

“What are you doing?” I mumble.

“We have the whole day,” his eyes seem softer than I imagined them to be when I meet them. “Just pace yourself a little.”

“Sorry, dad.”

“Don’t trigger my daddy kink.”

I let out the ugliest squark of a laugh. Everyone gapes at me as I smack my palm against my mouth, and I see Harry shift in my peripheral, covering his own face and stifling laughter.

“You feeling it already, mate?” Louis cocks a brow.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

“Fuckin’ Amsterdam.” Zayn chuckles beside me.

Everyone cheers to that.

[daenystheedreamer]

3, 7, 11, 16, 26, 32 🫡🫡🫶🫶🫶🫶

7 Which Free City are you retiring to?

GOD I WANT TO DO A GRAND TOUR OF THEM ALL... lorath the weird qohor the weirder. lys the forgotton revolutionary volantis the evil. renaissance myr bells of norvos pentos of varys and tyanna fame. tyrosh the slay blue hair and pronouns. but its gotta be braavos!!! the only one not tainted by valyria the one with hot sauce. myr second choice :)

11 Favourite bastard

honestly. gendry. he does NOT want to be that man's bastard he HATES that motherfucker he's an anarchist union man but the thing is. he is literally doing robert and lyanna. liiike. king sorry. if this meant great bastards im going aegor rivers for horse representation

26 Favourite "problematic" ship

genuinely everybody feel free to unfollow me for this but i am a minor closet sansan shipper im so sorry guys booo boooo tomatoes i know !!!! i got into this series through watching game of thrones at 14 okay. i was a sansan jonerys gendrya normie. i am on the vanguard of stop shipping sansa with adult men. unfortunately its in my blood i just cant escape it... its not huge for me and i consider it (like gendrya) a part of the scrapped time skip thing where it might have happened but not anymore. sowwy </3

32 A fancast you absolutely can’t stand

fancasting is hard for me i can never fully see a real person as one of these characters unless its absurdist ie tobin bell bloodraven jennifer tilly alys rivers or michelle visage barba bracken from my elaborate asoiaf in my mind surreal adaptation. but honestly every skinny white pretty fancast does nothing for me i dont care. or if its some russian model like what? do you really want some rando russian model who cant act to portay these characters??? just cos theyre skinny with bone structure??????? most fancasts i deride as "white" despite the fact the characters are canonically white* *u know what i mean

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER DRABBLE — 2. Angel Reyes 🌨️

A/N: gif belongs to [user: @pedropcl] now it seems like it’s next to impossible to find decent gifs through the gif search up here especially when it comes to this man. S/o to google this time around! Anyways here I am writing for another angel but the main angel? That I usually write for lol. For once it’s nothing too serious—well kinda…and might actually fit into the drabble category. Let’s pat myself on the back…maybe. I write my AN’s before I actually write the content 😬

S/N: decided to add Dante Torres from Chicago PD into the mix because I have a crush on Benjamin levy Aguilar and loved him in that Netflix series with Veronica mars (she’ll always be Veronica mars sorry y’all lol) and there’s no content on him. He’s only mentioned in this so don’t attack me too much if you read this and I’m new to the Chicago PD series and his character which is why I didn’t write any scenes specifically with him.

Prompt: #24. “Lift me up so I can put the star on the tree.” + #16. “We can’t put this photo in our Christmas card.”

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙

　　

Angel didn’t like what he was seeing when he pulled up to his house that weekend. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but he recognized the car that passed him by before he parked his bike next to your car in the driveway. He wasn’t late so he didn’t know why someone else was pulling up to his house uninvited.

And he had something to say about it.

“Yo!” Angel called into the house as he dropped his keys into the dish by the front door.

He stepped into the living room to see you swaying in front of the Christmas tree, joint attached to your full lips. Angel almost got distracted by the way your ass filled out those gym pants but he was on a mission. Then he picked up on the music full of Afro-Beats, which meant you were in a good mood and something inside of him provoked him to disrupt that.

Angel licked his bottom lip, getting one last look before he lightly touched your upper back to get your attention. And what did he do that for? You slightly jumped and spun to aim a high kick at your attacker, who you didnt recognize as Angel at the start.

Thankfully he dodged your long leg and called out to you, “whoa! Aye, querida. Relax! It’s just me.”

“Angel?! What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” You muttered around the joint as you exhaled.

Angel sucked his teeth, “I called out to you as soon as walked in the door.”

“I’m having a jam session right now, you know I don’t hear nothing when I’m dancing.” You wiggled your hips and held out the joint to the man who plucked it from your hands.

He took a hit and deeply exhaled as you carried on, spinning around him while he lightly shook his head.

It was time to get down to business.

“Whatchu do all day? Have anybody over?”

“Mmm nope. Spent the day doing a wash and go, listening to music, and putting the tree up. Now I get to relax.” You told your boyfriend while you continued dancing.

Angel called out to alexa to stop the music, shutting it off much to your annoyance. You held your hands out silently asking what he did that for and awaited a response from the party crasher.

“I saw a car on my way coming in. The same car that pulled up to the club once before…you know anything about that?”

Why would you? Your poked your head out in confusion and rolled your hands, “just spit it out already Angel, you’re getting on my nerves trying to play the accusing game.”

“Are you cheating on me with that egghead oink oink motherfucker? D’Angelo?”

A laugh couldn’t help but to burst out at Angel’s description but the look on his face was anything but humor.

“You mean Dante?” You asked, turning back to the couch in search of the remote.

Angel waved his hand around, still holding onto your joint, “whatever his name is. Are you sleeping with him?”

“I don’t cheat on people I claim to love. I don’t move like that and you know it so stop insulting me.” A heated stare went his way and Angel felt himself having to take a deep breath.

Of course he knew that. That was his own insecurities and previous actions getting in the way. He knew you were solid and would never, you already warned him if that’s something he did or even thought about when it came to your relationship then it was automatically a wrap. You had such power about you, like it seemed like nothing could hurt you, like you were invincible and it was incredible to watch. Angel didn’t want to be the one to fuck with that, not purposely.

And he really did care for you, which is why he didn’t want to believe that you could cheat on him. However he knew that you could just get up and leave whenever you wanted and that thought alone scared him. He never felt that way more than once before.

You didn’t need him and he knew that. Yet you still showed him love in a way that he wasn’t used to. You were patient but firm, which is why you weren’t raising your voice at his foolish accusations.

“I—I’m sorry but he was here right? I’m not completely bugging, I know that much.”

Plopping down on the edge of the couch you waved the remote around as you briefly thought about it, “…yeah he was. He stopped by for a minute, he didn’t come in out of respect for me.”

Angel huffed, “respect for you? What about me? He don’t pay no bills around here, he should be asking my permission to be anywhere near you.”

Sighing you said, “he doesn’t need your ‘permission’ to be around me. He’s my friend and been my friend since we were teens. Also you don’t know if he was here because of whatever case he’s working on and before you get paranoid it has nothing to do with you or the club. I would let you know that. Do you see me on your dick about the bartenders you used to mess around with? Now no. So stop your bitching and lift me up so I can put the star on the tree.”

Angel took a long drag from the joint at your words. He didn’t know who you thought you were talking to but he liked it.

“Why don’t you call the egghead back over here and he could do the work,” Angel mocked, “you already put the tree up without me.”

“You told me it was fine! Every time we planned to do it during the weekend you got called into the club. I asked you not once but thrice so don’t start, angel.” You scowled, getting to your feet and pulling your gym pants further up your waist.

Sighing Angel leaned over you, placing the joint into the dish to hold for him. He stood in front of you who peered up at him with raised brows. His hands massaged the sides of your neck before trailing up to rest against your cheeks, his hands were always rough but cool thanks to the rings that decorated his fingers.

“Love you lots you know,” he started, making you roll your eyes, “no for real, listen I do. It’s just that im fully aware I got the full package here and I don’t want nobody getting in between that. Especially no fed that your friends with…I dunno what it is with you and my fucken brother being friends with the opps.”

You sent a jab to the man’s abdomen who winced as you said, “don’t talk about franky like that, you know that’s family.”

“Oh shit, I keep forgetting.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why after everything he’s done.”

Angel made a chirping movement with his hand and stepped back before you could fight him some more, “don’t expect me to be friendly with egghead Da Vinci either.”

“I don’t think he wants to be your friend anyways.” You answered, making Angel furrow his brows as he began removing his vest.

He tossed it on the couch as he exasperates, “why? What his ass say? I’ll fuck him up.”

Laughing to yourself you shook your head, not instigating anything further. You knew Dante scooped Angel out because he cared about your well-being and didn’t think the man was good enough for you. It was always like that when you started dating but Dante also knew you would do whatever you felt like doing no matter what someone had to say.

You always had a mind of your own.

Yet Dante Torres was diligent and rebellious and and that didn’t change when it came to you, his best friend.

Dante also knew the boundaries he had to respect out of the sake your relationship but that didn’t mean he had to like Angel Reyes. At the end of the day he had a job to do and when he was ready he could take down the whole club if he really wanted to. However he was leaving to Chicago for a couple of weeks and he just knew something would go down without him even prying.

“And then you’ll be in jail for assaulting a cop and that’s a hard charge to get out of.” You let out a low-whistle, remembering a family member who took that route in his early twenties and just got out at the age of thirty-four last year.

Angel scoffed but said nothing more not wanting to waste anymore breath on some guy that didn’t matter to him. Instead he searched the empty box for the crown that was your star for the tree and held it in between his teeth. While he did that you decided to turn the music back on, just in time for Angel to grip you by the waist to face him. He then pulled you around to be in front of him, you glancing back at him in question as he motioned for you.

“You know what to do, spread ‘em.”

“Ask nicely.”

Angel gave you a look making you laugh as you got into a jumping Jack pose without the jumping. Angel fixed the crown back between his lips before he crouched down in between your legs. Once his neck was in between your legs, he kept a tight grip on your legs before he lifted you up into the air.

“So this is what it’s like being seven feet tall?” You asked as Angel carried you over to the tree.

Reaching downwards you gently took the crown from his mouth and reached upwards. Angel’s hands tightened on your upper thighs as he leaned towards the tree more, eyeing as you slipped the crown right on top of the very decorative tree.

“Tree looks nice as fuck, Querida. How long it take you?” Angel used one hand to touch one the rose gold ribbons you had wrapped in it.

“Thank you, baby.” You beamed, knuckles now pressed into your hips as you admired your work, “I actually started on Friday, getting everything from the basement, mom came over on Saturday then she pissed me off trying to dictate how it should look as if she didn’t decorate her tree and my sister’s tree already. And I just finished today. It’s perfect.”

Angel chuckled to himself. He knew how your mom could be, she was a interior decorator herself so it only made since that she wanted to take over the whole process. Now angel was really kicking himself from missing out on this, you lost your cool whenever it came to your mom despite the love you had for her. Yet your mother is very stubborn and sensitive wrapped into one. He tried to question how your dad handled a woman like her but he knew your dad wasn’t rocking with him like that.

“Ah it is.” Angel began to crouch, making you grip for something as he began to do some squats.

“This what we doing?”

“I missed the entire weekend to work out, let me have this. Count for me?” Angel encouraged while you held on tighter.

The man slowly took working out seriously through persuasion of you. Also working as a phlebotomist encouraged you to take not only your health but others around you seriously. You always found health class and physiology interesting so it was no surprise to your family and friends that you got into this field.

And so you did, getting to fifty before Angel decided to call it quits.

“You did great,” you mentioned as Angel took the time to focus on slowing his breathing.

Once he did, he lowered you down to the ground with a nice slap to your ass of course.

“Thanks for being my weight and letting me in between those thighs.”

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved the man, who laughed yanking you to his slightly sweaty frame to pepper your face with kisses.

Later…Angel sat at the kitchen table, eating the Sunday dinner you prepared while your eyes went over a series of photos on your laptop.

“Angel, what is this?”

Angel stopped chewing the lamb and peered over at you, “what?”

“Why did you move these into the possible Christmas card options?” You spun the laptop around to face the dark haired man who smirked at the image.

Angel continued eating, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Angel…” you exhaled and rested your fingertips against your forehead, “Our reenactment of Janet Jackson’s rolling stone cover and her ex husband with your hands on my breasts and you in a Santa hat is not appropriate to send to my granny or my parents. We can’t put this photo in our Christmas card.”

Angel shrugged his shoulders, “why not, it’s art? It’s Christmas, it’s supposed to be happy.”

“Would you like me sending this to pop?” You quizzed.

Angel pretended to think about it, “he wouldn’t keep it anyways and would probably call me up to yell at me about it. I’d love to see the look on his face though. We look sexy, what’s the problem?”

“These were for our eyes only. For fun.”

“Which is what Christmas is all about.”

“I thought it was about celebrating the birth of Jesus?”

“Fuck if I know, I was raised catholic.”

Your eyes instantly went to Angel’s who met your stare. He laughed to himself, “I know how that sounds, be quiet.”

Grabbing the computer back you shook your head at the unbelievable man. Scrunching up your nose, you lifted your glasses further up the bridge of your nose as you clicked onto the next set of photos.

Angel licked his fingers, finishing off his food before he patted his belly. “Here’s an idea, why don’t you send that one to your old homeboy? Maybe he’ll get the message to stop coming around when I’m not here.”

“I’m not doing that to feed your ego.” You easily responded, eyes trained on your screen.

Angel got up from the table to place his items into the sink. He actually took the time to wash them to place into the rack. Once finished he walked over to you, leaning over to see what other photos you were looking at. You took a good thirty photos together so there had to be something in there that was satisfactory in your eyes.

He didn’t really care to be honest, “Whatever you pick will be cute as shit that your granny will keep pushing for us to give her a great-grand baby.”

Almost gagging you shuddered at the thought. Being pregnant terrified you, sure babies were cute and everything but the whole process of carrying and actually giving birth did not sound like a 10/10. You’ve watched enough horror stories and heard enough horror stories to know that’s not exactly what you wanted right now. Or ever? Of course that could always change but the full discussion of children with Angel made you uneasy.

He already had a son and previously lost a son, which didn’t sit right with you, however it was none of your business. Although, you didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of possibly raising a child with a man that was hardly there…but that was not a conversation that you wanted to have tonight.

If Angel picked up on this, he chose not to say anything about it when you know he could have. Instead he just placed a kiss on your temple, his beard briefly scratching at your skin before he left your side, saying he was off to take a shower and leave you alone with your final decisions.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙

Continue along with my anthology December prompts here.

[the-revisionist]

Questions for Writers

Jeez, I forgot I left this in my drafts! Thanks for the tag, @calunalilly

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

31

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

My initial reaction to this question was, why are these fucking people asking me to do more math? Then I realized it's listed in the statistics tab on my dash. Which tells me 792,881 words. That seems low to me? (My writerly self-image is a verbose motherfucker.)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Last Tango in Halifax, Happy Valley, Collateral. In the past I wrote a lot of words about Xena, well, uber Xena.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Tristan Chord, the marriage plot, The Wandering Star, The Argentinian Maneuver, and The Wild Nothing.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely. If ever I miss a response, it's likely because I have my head up the ass of real life. So if you've commented and I've not responded, I apologize.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I feel like they're all angsty? But I'd have to go way back to the Xena stuff for the truly angsty shit, probably Coup de Grace or Venezia.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Maybe The Argentinian Maneuver or a good fixed star.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've gotten a couple passive-aggressive comments here and there, but overall I'd say our tiny corner of fandom is filled with folks who have excellent manners and are very supportive of their writers. ;)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

On occasion. You have to dig through a lot of adjectives and dubious metaphors, but it's there.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I guess Happy Valley/Collateral is crossover territory, no? Unfortunately it's not crazy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of but if I find anyone who does, I will seriously go Catherine Cawood on your ass.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a series of old Uber Xena stories. Some brave soul translated them into French (!). I think there may have been one translated into Spanish as well. I have no idea if any of them are still available online.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Cowrote a mad little uber-Xena tale eons ago with my dear beloved @thelnjames. Good times!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Caroline/Gillian on LTiH, and the uber-Xena pairing of Mel/Janice.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would like to finish Perihelion, the crazy western LTiH AU I started years ago. Might have to rewatch Deadwood for inspo.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Knowing when all the shit I threw in the kitchen sink is too much (i.e., editing).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get too caught up in trying to write pretty and make everything a big old fucking metaphor.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It gives me the shits. I tend to research a lot, so I would try to find a native speaker of said language to verify that what I've written is accurate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Xena.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is like asking a mother, who is your favorite child?

I'm tagging anyone who's interested in doing this!

[artbyblastweave]

Gideon the Ninth Liveread: Chapter 10

Harrow is still missing in action. Noted casually, because Gideon doesn't care per se, but this is absolutely a length of seperation that would be setting off alarm bells within any other necro/cavalier pair; for all her complaints about Gideon not being able to maintain the charade, Harrow's lack of regard for Gideon strikes me as the fundamentally weak link in their plan, most likely papered over only by the fact that the other houses have no frame of reference for how the Ninth conducts it's operations. Also, I’ve had the thought that the other houses might not care; the whole "fake cavalier" thing seems tailored to the scrutiny of a social environment much more heavily populated. Harrow was gearing up for some real court intrigue, but Harrow and Gideon are marooned with just 16 named characters, all of whom have their own shit going on.

Funny aside; Gideon doesn't know what Fish are.

More details on skeleton mechanics. Harrow's specific skill at boneology (and that line I've seen floating around, "we do bones, motherfucker" is shoring up my growing belief that each of the houses has a Hunger-games-like arbitrary speciation in their flesh magics; it's a sign of great skill when you can get skeletons up and running without the assistance of connective tissues or any other fleshy bits. This is potentially a cultural engineering thing- an attempt to delineate between living slave-and-indentured-servant castes and pure robotic servitors. An attempt to head-off the exact bullshit Harrow is pulling with her parents, in other words.

Trying to guess which house this new antagonistic house is. First, second, third, fourth, fifth, seventh and ninth are accounted for; this is either sixth or eighth. I get the sense that the necro may have artificially arrested their aging somehow, and with it possibly their emotional maturity/brain development? It would explain at least in part their Cav's disgruntlement. Or maybe the fact that the Cav has actually clearly seen a ton of use as a meat shield while the Necro is in silk and chain-mail too thin to fulfill its function. Actually, this looks like the only pairing thus far that’s seen real action. Most of the rest are kids, or Magnus, who does not, you know. Have the vibe of a guy who’s experienced true horror.

Gideon's reaction to the necro's thousand-yard stare is telling; her recollection of Crux, of Sister Lachrimorta, of the Reverend Parents, all emphasize this need to be wanted; to be of use; Crux's version is painful because it conveys disappointment, the Reverend Parents because they convey fear. And as she leaves the dining hall, her response to the Lyctor Trials is that she feels "suckered;" she isn't wanted here, she isn't useful here.

"The Stinging Slap in the face that she didn't even have Harrow." Okay, here we get a sign that Gideon views Harrow as a comforting absolute even if she nominally hates her. I've been wondering more than a little what the hell the grounds for a turnaround in their relationship were going to be; here we get a single inch of concession. (Also, open call to the peanut gallery- what does/did the insufferable discourse surrounding this relationship look like? Abuse apologia? Power Dynamics? This whole series feels like a hotbed of Facewearer discourse.)

Okay, my Bonesaw assessment of Dulcinea swells in its hold on my mind. She wanted in on Gideon's personal brand of suffering because it seemed like a romantic way to die, and lost interest because of the aesthetic mismatch. I'm inclined to say that this is callous towards Gideon's situation but given Dulcinea's state it feels like a grass-is-greener situation more than anything truly appropriative.

So the seventh house deals with... reversing aging? Arresting the spread of disease? Or the progression? This is mentioned to be a hereditary issue, so perhaps their brand of necromancy was influenced by 10,000 years of trying to counter what’s happening to Dulcinea. And, as a point of comparison, I can imagine that both Ninth and First House’s skill with bone automatons developed downstream of their chronic manpower problems.

Dulcinea twigged to the sword discrepancy. This makes sense; Her Cav is proportioned like a super mutant and seems unlikely to have exclusively trained with toothpick rapiers. I’m not sure if Dulcinea is the only necro who's capable of noticing this discrepancy at a glance- there are other fairly militaristic houses present- but she’s certainly the only one paying enough attention to Gideon specifically to notice.

Okay, Protesilaus is back. He reports that something is shut. What’s shut? Dulcinea sits and looks harmless, and she can afford to because she’s got her Cav off executing her plans for her, whatever they are.

So, final roundup! I sense a love interest. Noting, belatedly, that the very first thing Dulcinea does is give Gideon an opportunity to be helpful; and through this whole sequence it becomes clear that Gideon just kinda... does stuff if people ask nicely and make her, specifically, feel wanted and useful. She gets chased out of the dining hall, painted as a wrong and intrusive Thing, and moments later falls head-over-heels for the first person who makes her feel actively desired, even just for rote manual labor. Dulcinea’s appraisals of Gideon have this real.... charge, a suspicious charge, I felt like I was watching a spider wrapping up a fly with every request Gideon granted- and there’s a level on which it’s very sad, because a person less starved for affection would find being approached like this off-putting. Dulcinea is rotating her like a specimen! But to Gideon it’s a fantastic experience for reasons she doesn’t even have the vocabulary to articulate. I can’t picture her instinct being to confess everything at the slightest provocation to anyone else on this rock. 

Notably, however, I never have to hurriedly scroll past any posts about Gideon and Dulcinea being cute together- and unusually for this series, I have no idea why that is. This is one of the few elements of this story I’m experiencing completely blind, and I’m extremely excited to learn whatever fucked up circumstances lead to Harrow pulling ahead of Dulcinea as the intuitive romantic lead.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Bezzle excerpt (Part III)

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and then SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

This week, I'm serializing part of chapter 14 from my new novel The Bezzle, which is out in stores TODAY (!!!):

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

The Bezzle is a Martin Hench novel, the followup to last year's Red Team Blues – though each book in the series is designed to be read in any order, and to stand alone (RTB just came out in paperback):

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865854/redteamblues

Hench is a two-fisted, high-tech forensic accountant whose career spans 40 years of busting high-tech scams, from the earliest days of the PC to the white-hot center of the cryptocurrency bubble. Each book revolves around a single, central scam (in The Bezzle, it's the unbelievably slimy prison-tech industry):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

But each book also features lots of subplots that unpick different kinds of fraud. In this serialized excerpt, we get to watch Marty unwind a music royalty theft scheme, the kind of thing that Rebecca Giblin and I pulled apart in our 2022 book, Chokepoint Capitalism (also now in paperback!):

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Today's installment gets into one of the major tactics of any semi-respectable scam – simply ignoring the victim in the hope that they'll get tired and go away. Any of us who've been ripped off by a big company can surely relate.

I'm leaving on my tour for this one tomorrow, starting with a gig in Salt Lake City at Weller Bookworks (Feb 21) at 630PM:

https://www.wellerbookworks.com/event/store-cory-doctorow-feb-21-630-pm

From there, it's on to LA (with Adam Conover), Seattle (with Neal Stephenson) and many, many more cities – maybe one near you!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Here's part one of the serial:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/17/the-steve-soul-caper/#lead-singer-disease

And part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#copyright-termination

And now, onto part three!

Stefon cooked Jamal another dinner and Jamal wrote another letter, this one more forceful, and addressed to Gounder by name. Two weeks later, Jamal wrote another letter without needing dinner because “that motherfucker went to Harvard fucking law”—­Jamal had looked him up in the ALA directory—­“and he knows you can’t make legal problems go away just by ignoring them. Time for that piece of shit to put on his big-­boy pants and be a goddamned lawyer.”

The one thing Jamal wouldn’t do was file a lawsuit. “You need a lawyer for that,” he said. “I mean, I can help you with the paperwork, but a paralegal can’t file the suit. And you shouldn’t file your own suit, either. Those guys’ll just hire some blow-dried asshole from a big law firm and they’ll crush you like a cockroach.”

“Well, shit,” Stefon said. But it all made sense. Anyone doing business with Chuy Flores would do business like Chuy Flores—­that is, crooked as hell.

“What you need is a contingency lawyer,” Jamal said. “Someone who’ll take the job for a piece of the action.” Which is how Stefon ended up being represented by Benny Caetani II, son of Benedetto Caetani, who graduated at the top of his Yale class, won a string of spectacular class-­action suits, then got disbarred after someone leaked calls where he admitted moving money from one client trust account into another to cover a shortfall. No one seriously thought that Benedetto was stealing anyone’s money—­he’d had receivables due within a week that let him make the trust account whole—­but he was also clearly guilty.

Equally, no one seriously believed that the high-­powered surveillance that led to Benedetto’s downfall was random. Benedetto had transferred more than a hundred million dollars from the balance sheets of America’s largest, dirtiest corporations—­ poison-­peddling pharma giants, toxic-­waste-­dumping chemical companies, a global chain of botox parlors with some very loose syringes indeed—­and they were gunning for him.

Officially, Benedetto was out of the lawyer game. Unofficially, he was the brains behind Benny, and the two of them ran a squeaky-­clean shop, making sure that everything that an actual lawyer had to do, Benny did—­while Benedetto did ­everything else. Father and son got along well and they were a hell of a team. When Benedetto called me in to audit Inglewood Jams’ books, I jumped at the opportunity. They were a delight to work for.

“They played tough,” Benedetto said, as his minions arranged the bankers’ boxes on the steel kitchen shelves he’d had installed on the long walls of the storefront he’d rented for me to work out of for the month. “At first. Told me they didn’t owe Stefon a dime, and that they’d rather bankrupt themselves in court than pay some broken-­down, washed-­up disco king anything. Told me his problem was with Chuy, not Inglewood Jams.”

“Well, to be fair, that Chuy guy sounds like a class-­A piece of shit.”

“A broke piece of shit. Guy’s got a million-­dollar nose and an empty bank account.”

“So you had to go after Inglewood Jams.”

Benedetto twirled around in his Aeron chair. He’d sent over a pair of them, asking if I needed more, because he had a storage locker full of them that he’d gotten as part of a settlement with a broke Santa Monica crowdsourcing company that stiffed its workers when it folded.

“I did. I went after them. That Gounder lawyer tried to bluff, then when that didn’t work, he tried to dodge service. Which was such a kindergarten move. Plus he was no good at it. Caught him outside the rub-­and-­tug parlor he went to every Friday after work. Handed him the papers. Wore a bodycam. Didn’t mention his wife. Didn’t have to.”

“You think he settled because he didn’t want his wife to find out he was getting hand jobs at a massage parlor?”

“No, he held out awhile after that. But I could see it preying on him, every time I was face-­to-­face with him. Eventually, he musta told his bosses that they were gonna lose, and so they offered a settlement. It was trash. I laughed in his face. He tossed out some better offers, but none of them even in the ballpark of what we would get in court. Finally, I told him to get serious or send his court suit out to the dry cleaner’s. That’s when he offered to make Stefon whole and pay me a little for my trouble on top of things.”

I suppressed a snort. I was sure that a little on top amounted to some real folding money.

“Even then he tried to pull a fast one, told me he’d calculate Stefon’s royalties and send a check the next week. I was like, ‘Hold up, there is no way you’re going to be able to make an honest accounting for Stefon’s royalties in a week. The dude’s samples are in hundreds of songs. The mere fact that you claimed that you could come up with a fair amount in a week tells me you were planning to pull a lowball number out of your ass and pass it off as the audited total, so tell you what, I’m gonna get the best forensic accountant in the state of California to come down here to LA and crawl all over your papers, and you are going to send him everything he needs to do it, or we’re going to court, motherfucker.”

“And he agreed?”

“Hell no. He refused. We went to a preliminary hearing. Judge turned out to be a classic soul fan. It didn’t go well for Gounder or Inglewood. The next day, he was back in my office, and now, well, here we are.”

ETA: Here's part four!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#lawyer-up

[crow-raven-crow]

𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Tagged by @weemssapphic - thank you, dovey 🤍

𝟏. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑?

16.. I cross-post everything, but i also just started like three months ago now SO

𝟐. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭?

79,333 (i've been seeing this damn angel number everywhere)

𝟑. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Mostly Wednesday right now. I'm getting into Game of Thrones and there are Resident Evil 8 fics in the works ! I want to get into RE8 writing more because I miss our Lady Dimitrescu ;)

𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝟓 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐬?

The Protector (series)

I Know You Will.. (lyric fic)

Slow Down, I'm Not Going Anywhere

I'd Hate To Repeat Myself

Monser (series)

𝟓. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭?

Yes! I try to respond to every comment I get on all platforms. I remember when I would comment on works before I started posting my own. It would feel so cool when I got to talk to the writer/artist about the work or anything to do with their process. It feels amazing being on the other side of that now. Like someone read something I did or saw something I drew and took the time out of their day to say something about it.. It's crazy to me and keeps me eternally grateful

𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Monster Ch.3 - Retrograde (~4.1k words) - THIS CHAPTER HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER DUDE. The flashbacks, the hopelessness, the deep emptiness that I felt while writing everything in Larissa's point of view literally made me cry. This whole series is just a miserable slap in the face with angst. The final chapter of this fic is a little over 10k words, and I wrote it all in one sitting LMAO. I went insane, but there is angst all over it.

𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Most of my fics are happy endings because even though i LOVE angst and I'm so drawn to dark fics and things like that, they're so painful to read and write. The pain in angst fics is not for the lighthearted, especially hurt/no comfort. The happiest I think would be the last chapter of The Protector - To Be Found.. This whole series is a bit of a cliche, but it was my first series and post on here.. It's got a special place in my heart

𝟖. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬?

Thankfully, no! It was definately something I was nervous about. I think that my writing isn't the best every now and then;;;; But I know that I'm only growing and challenging myself to improve with each step. It pushes me back up and makes me so grateful to everyone who does like what I put out, especially when they're not as popular categories or a bit of a different idea than what has been seen.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, yes. Always wlw. They're mostly due to the requests I get in my inbox, but that doesn't mean I enjoy them any less. I dip into most things now and probably more as I get more comfortable writing them. I have no issues with it, I just want to translate it well if you know what i mean ;)

𝟏𝟎. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

I'm not a big fan of writing them.. I don't think I'd really know what to do if I were to write one. They can be a really hard thing to write, but it makes me look up to the ones who can write them super well. If that's your thing and you love to read them, I'd check out @daydream-cement if you haven't already. They did a really good crossover with Gwen's characters called The Road Trip

𝟏𝟏. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧?

Not that I am aware of, no.. If this ever happens, please bring it to my attention. I spend hours creating and it's always like a punch in the gut when something so personal and meaningful to me gets stolen

𝟏𝟐. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝?

Nope

𝟏𝟑. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞?

Not yet. I haven't been asked about it before, but my current schedule is too packed for me to even contemplate the idea. One day!

𝟏𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩?

I'm very much on the x reader train. I basically only write and read that as well. Don't know if I'd write anything else, but there are a few Lady D x Larissa Weems ones that I've seen a bit ago that caught my eye

𝟏𝟓. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥?

Lover Academia.. Literally my next series LMAOOO. Guys.. It's been sitting in my notes since I wrote The Protector....... I changed a big part of it in early September and basically merged two ideas, but I haven't had the motivation to go in and rewrite them to fit together. It's like pages of notes.. AND I DON'T KNOW HOW IT'LL END SO THERES THAT TOO AHAH

𝟏𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐬?

Setting of time and place. I've always loved describing things. I could write pages to just describe a room alone. I always loved reading stuff like that because it really helped me visualize what was happening, so I guess it translated into my own writing.

𝟏𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬?

I'm much slower than I would like to be. A big part of that is now balancing school, work, and a social life. I'm thankful enough to consider doing this and interacting with my mutuals as a bigger part of my life. It's crazy to think that I followed these people months ago, and now I talk to and write alongside them. I do so much with school and work that there are days where I could write but I allow my body to recharge for a bit and then pick it up later in the day.

But this also taught me a good lesson because I am not a consumable artist. I don't want to push out mediocure works, I don't want to operate like a machine, I don't want to put works out only for them to be swiped over everyones heads. I want my work to be savored, to be reread, to be saved in folders because "ohmygod that was amazing." As artists in this social world, we are pushed to create as much as we can, but I don't want to be lost within that.

𝟏𝟖. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜?

I've never done this before? I think I would when it comes to anything related to Lady Dimitrescu or Donna Beneviento, but I would make sure to get it checked before releasing it. It's a risky game to play sometimes.

𝟏𝟗. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Wednesday (Larissa x Reader)

𝟐𝟎. 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

Monster (series) - It's the way I loved breaking my own heart. It's the way I loved making you all suffer along with me. It's the way the ending was so long but provided closure after the shit show that Larissa and Reader had gone through. I'd love to write one-shots for this universe. I loved it so much and feel like I can write their happier moments that way.

I Know You Will.. - THE LYRIC FICS YOU GUYS REQUEST LITERALLY HAVE ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. This one hurt so good. This is a part of Larissa that I will always want to love and protect. She needs to be reminded of how amazing she is - we all understand this part. But being allowed to feel those emotions and have someone stick with you through them is also oh so special.

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

IGNORE THE FACT THAT I FUCKED UP THIS POST SORRY

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

Tags (no pressure <33) - @sapphos-ode @i-write-sometimes-maybe

consider yourself tagged if you see this

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

x,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[mauannacreates]

Flufftober day 16: Singing each other to sleep with fairytales.

Hello fellow readers, here's my continuation of the flufftober series made by @flufftober. Anyways. Before I start, I had lots of laughs and fun just writing this. And also I will put a swear warning, because there's quite a couple of swears. (for the good old fun and sake of it.) and I hope you enjoy today's story.

---

“So, it’s our first bed time together~!” Marielle says, and gosh! Does she have to seriously list every single firsts that they do? 

“Marielle. Do you have to say that?” Elaine asks, and she gives a brief smile. 

“Oh yes, it’s tradition.” She gives a giggle as she goes and snuggles underneath her water bed. Yes, a waterbed. I have no idea how she would have, and let alone carry so much water stuff! And Tynan comes from the side of my shoulder as he comes launches towards the perch that’s on top of the wall. 

“Marielle.” Tynan is glimpsing at her. “Can we go to sleep?” and the jellyfish goes and puffs her face up.

“You know, you guys are no fun.” She says. "just wanting to go to sleep without some time to have fun." And Elaine jerks towards her, and even Tynan gives a squawk.

“What does that mean?” Elaine says to Marielle's mouth tensing. “We are fun." I give a hollow laugh. How can that jellyfish not understand this? "What are you going to do? You’re going to get us to stay up late? We just fought our asses outside the whole day.”

“Lainy, no.” Marielle says very plainly. “Haven’t you heard of singing each other to sleep?”

“No.” Elaine glances towards Tynan, and his brow’s perked up as she twists back to her overbearing water bed. “Bed is for sleeping. Not to sing lullabies to each other.” 

“You are very funny Lainy, but also too strict and overtly uptight.” Wait, where is she getting at... And what's with that amused smile trickling her lips. “It’s like you’re dying to be married to Andreas.” What!?

“No!" I glance towards Tynan, giving a half hearted chuckle. "No, I’m not interested in the guy!” And Marielle gives a chuckle as she goes and pets the side of Elaine’s hair. 

“Don’t worry Lainy, I know.” she says, as she goes and... Why is she sitting on me...!? “I know that, once upon a time, little Lainy is all sad and alone, stuck in her dreaded little castle...!" I was not stuck. Seriously, I was not stuck. But the jellyfish waves her hand out, rather theatrically. "And that one day, she found the fairy god mother – which is me – and asks on how I could set her free. And you know what I said?" Do I really want to know, but she gives a sweet smile. “I said: ‘I am going to break that fucking curse that father Lanz has set upon poor princess sad Lainy." and she hoists her feet off of me and next minute, her hand digs onto my shirt and pulls me toward her face. "And I am also going to break that motherfucking Andrea’s heart’!" and woah... My fur frazzled up, but she gives just the briefest smile.   "Which I know you, Lainy don’t want to be with in the first place.” She gives a hint of laughter before she faces between me and Tynan. Even Tynan's brows are raising... But it quickly smoothes itself. “And then, I, with my magical powers, have cut you off from those dastardly father ties, break you free, and now you’ll get to live a happily ever after with godmother Marielle, and handsome prince, Tynan.” And she gives a brief warm smile towards me. And Tynan gives a slight smile as he stares away.

“Haha, very funny Marielle.” He says. With a bit of an actual chuckle. “I like the story, but I don’t understand why I am the prince. 

“Well, you are the prince of darkness for the next hundred years. So you mise as well make it come to use, Tynan Umberose.” And he stares at her for a while before giving a nod. 

“I suppose that makes sense.” He says. And Tynan opens his mouth as he stretches forward. "well I suppose we should go to sleep now." And we stare at each other before Tynan starts to hum. It's low, yet... With how he just sits there and hums, I go and tuck myself under the bed. And then I close my eyes.

[zombolouge]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by the incomparable and enchanting @icescrabblerjerky , and you caught me while I'm already comparing writing stats for other things so this fits in well with that task ;)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 19 baybeee

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 2,319,545. I am. Verbose.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Legend of Zelda, Ace Attorney, Mystic Messenger, and then I wrote the novelization of the song 6969 by Ninja Sex Party and a Caduceus character study for CR.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Indefensible (Ace Attorney) has 1,234 (HA!)

As Bright as the Stars (Mystic Messenger) has 1111 (ALSO HA)

Tearing Down the Heavens (Dragon Age: Inquisition) has 730

Hundred Years in the Making (LoZ: Breath of the Wild) has 627

We Are Ferelden (Dragon Age: Origins) has 271

Genuinely really surprised none of the Mass Effect fics are in this category, I'm so proud of those XD

5. Do you respond to comments? Absolutely always, whenever possible. lol I will also ramble at anyone that asks me questions.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably The Traveler, which I warn you from the very start has a sad ending. It's Dragon Age fic retelling the stories Solas tells of his time dreaming in the Fade, with the trappings of a Doctor Who theme in which he travels through the fade with a series of companions.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Uhhhhhhh I think probably We Are Ferelden comes closes to a happy ending? Eventually I will give my DA series an actual happy ending though. Most of them end either bittersweet in some way or as a sort of non-ending ending because I know the story continues.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've gotten a wee bit of hate on the Zelda fic, Hundred Years in the Making, but it was fairly mild. I don't really respond to it much though because it's hard for a stranger to say something that will actually hurt my fee fees XD

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yeah, sure. Most my fics contain smut of some kind. I don't really write smut without plot, though, it's gotta be a natural part of the narrative or I just lose interest.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I have not. I just haven't thought of one that caught my attention enough to want to write it down.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of. I have had some lines and suggestions used, but usually that's with credit. lol now I HAVE had jokes and things I've said stolen but that's a bit different.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope! I'd prob be open to it but I'd deffo want credited as the OG author.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! I think it's been orphaned now though lol

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? I CAN'T CHOOSE THIS. But prob Shakarian.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I will finish all my WIPs, how dare you doubt me. (The Traveler would have been my choice for this but I FINISHED IT NOW MOTHERFUCKER)

16. What are your writing strengths? Words....go many. Big words. lmao honestly I don't ever really know. I think I'm good at characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Brevity.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I do it sometimes, but usually make an author's note that it's done with shitty translation software so it will not be Authentic. (if I were putting it in a novel I'd prob pay to have someone look it over, but fic is free and thus my resources put into it are limited lol)

19. First fandom you wrote for? I'm gonna assume the AU crossover I wrote for Pokemon/Dragonriders of Pern/Zelda/Narnia when I was 9 does not count. lol it was Dragon Age tho

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? My Mass Effect series, I think. I love different things about all my fics, usually because I was doing different things in all of them, but A Name for the Stars trilogy is something that I'm most proud of. Almost every scene in that serves a plot purpose and I wove a LOT of different things together to create one cohesive thing, and I think if you can get through all of it, it has the biggest bang for the buck. Also I burned that realllll slow XD

I will tag @jusbeinkt and @kesla and @literarypeachtea and @tinkeringteacup (do it if you feel like it, no pressure here frens lol)

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

20 questions for fic writers meme, tagged by @chubsthehamster -- thank you, friend! :D

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

42 at the moment

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

269,795. Almost half of that is one fic though, lol

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently most active in Trigun, perennially/intermittently active in Nirvana in Fire, currently dormant in CritRole, and hiatus in Sandman. Interests wax and wane! And who knows what I'll discover next? Not me, that's for sure.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Mate, I write mostly gen fic. I'm not here for the numbers. A kudos means that a whole human being with thoughts of their own spent some of their precious moments on God's green earth reading my thoughts and kinda liked 'em.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! ...........eventually. sometimes several years later. And why? I dunno, it just feels polite? Also human connection, even digital. That's a thing.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Inference, but that's just because of the canonical main character death. Visitation Hours is bleak in implication, not in actual ending. My definition of "angst" does not always align with readers' definitions of "angst," which can be hilarious for me when I get weepy reactions on something I thought was relatively lighthearted.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I do 'equivocal' better than 'happy,' I think? The goal is emotional resolution or emotional discordance. Happy's incidental, which almost certainly means I don't write a lot of happy endings by the standard measure.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not hate so much as people who are belligerently confused? I get some bonkers fucking comments and anons sometimes, which I delete, a smattering of entitled weirdos, and a sprinkle of (typically unintentionally) back-handed compliments.

9. Do you write smut?

Nope! Suggestive, sure. Dirty language, if relevant. Implication, when called-for. Smut? Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have written a short series of crossovers between Machineries of Empire and Nirvana in Fire. Haven't written any since, but they're not off the table.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup! More plagiarism than theft in entirety, though. At least once had someone lift a whole scene, dialogue, phrasing and all, and claim it as their own with obvious intent to get mileage without credit. And I have happened upon recognizable lines from my fics in other fics enough times to have several nickles. I get miffed about the latter, but the charitable assumption is just that it was a phrase fresh in their minds/recalled without association.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Into Russian, I think? Godspeed, fanfic translators, the strongest of us all.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've co-written original stuff before, but I don't think I could ever do it again, original or fanfic. Not that it wasn't a pleasant experience at the time!

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't have a favorite ship, but I do have a favorite dynamic, which is the mutual "you're the only motherfucker in this club who can handle me" a la that one Lorde tweet. The buckwildness has to be compatible, preferably complimentary. We're not talking enabling, though that can be part of it. It doesn't even have to be a ship. That grok/trust combination.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Look, I don't know what WIPs are going to get finished until I post them, okay?

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like character studies! And I feel like I am getting better at limited points of view, though they keep wanting to slide omniscient.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Same-hatting with @chubsthehamster here: plot. What the characters are doing in any given story is largely just to break up the dialogue and introspection. Things happening? They don't, sorry. Gotta work on this.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

For straight dialogue in another language, it's still dialogue, and it still has to serve the story, so if it makes more sense to drop it untranslated, drop it untranslated. If the reader needs to know what's being said, italics or paraphrase.

For mixed languages, it's totally situational and depends on the character, too. Did they just get back from an exchange program in France and they're insufferable about it? Are they a very new second language speaker? Are they an expat? A bilingual parent who wants their child to grow up speaking one language preferentially? An academic, or someone who learned their whole vocabulary based on a single vocation (ie: a doctor who can get by using Spanish in a medical scenario but not outside the clinic)? All of that is going to influence their speech pattern.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Nirvana in Fire!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Just as interests wax and wane, I like some fics more and some less, and today's favorite could be tomorrow's cringe.

Please consider yourself tagged if you see this and would like to play! @ me, if you like!