wouldthatbetheenemy

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

i’ve fucked guys i should’ve shot in the head

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

why must a fic be "finished" is it not enough for it to be lovingly daydreamed over a period of 6 months.

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

We need to embrace the fact that the tumblr userbase is aging. What’s everybody’s favorite kitchen appliance?

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

me playing the xbox with raging c-ptsd and tinnitus in one ear while fireworks go off continually outside: cod is a mil-sim actually

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

its open wounds wednesday dont forget to bleed out

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

tagged by @wouldthatbetheenemy for last line wip game :)

(yes i was tagged like over a week ago but I was busy on vacation and not writing so heres what i wrote the other night at 4am when i should've been sleeping. also yes i am doing Much more than a last line because fuck the rules)

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

Instead of speaking, Snafu retrieved his worn wallet from his jeans and from within it he pulled a folded up newspaper clipping. Eugene watched as Snafu silently unfolded the clipping before he passed the piece of newspaper facedown across the table. Raising an eyebrow at the man, Eugene waited until Snafu lit himself a fresh cigarette and seemingly focused on the television set behind Eugene before he retrieved the clipping from the table.

Eugene wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he was surprised to find the clipping dated from last August and covered some of the protests held at the Republican National Convention in Miami. Scanning the article, Eugene’s eyes hovered on the author name- Robert Leckie -and immediately Eugene knew what had caught Snafu’s eye. The same article had found its way into his own mother’s hands soon after it was published and had caused quite the stir in the Sledge household. 

He wasn’t obvious to a quick scan but it wasn’t a terribly long article. All it took was a few minutes focus and there he was, halfway down the second column:

… not only are they the largest contingency here but they are also the most disciplined and the most serious- the war they are against is the one they fought in. These veterans have traveled thousands of miles across the country to ensure that their voices are heard at the Republican National Convention. 

“These pointless deaths need to stop,” said Eugene Sledge, who served as a mortar man with the esteemed 1st Marine Division from May 1967 to June 1968. Sledge, who currently resides in Brooklyn, New York, traveled over 1,300 miles to attend the protest. “If by being here, I can help shorten this war even by a week it’ll be worth the travel.”

Eugene still wasn’t sure how his mother had gotten hold of the article but when she did, Eugene had been on the receiving end of quite the furious phone call. 

“It’s one thing to do and say these things in your own neighborhood but to cross several state lines to protest at the Republican National Convention?!” his mother’s upset voice still played clearly in his ears a year later. “If you get arrested at this type of event you could face serious repercussions! This can go on a permanent record- it could affect job prospects, could consider you a danger to the President of the United States and you could be considered a felon-!”

Eugene conveniently withheld the fact that he had been arrested at the protest but had been released twenty-four hours later with little more than a Billy club to the shoulder and a sore back from spending the night in a holding cell. He didn’t want to send his mother into cardiac arrest and if his dear old acquaintance Leckie didn’t want to also disclose that fact to the world at large, Eugene assumed he could keep it a secret from his family. 

His mother finding the article and her outrage had been at least partially considered after the brief interview occurred. But as he stared at the heavily creased newspaper clipping clutched tightly between his hands, Eugene realized that perhaps he really hadn’t considered all the possible ramifications when he allowed the former war correspondent to quote him.

tagging @ackackh, @judesstfrancis, and literally anyone who sees this and wants an excuse to post some of their wip (tag me if you do!)

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

fanfic curse got me for real lads

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

It's fanfiction it doesn't have to be perfect it doesn't have to be accurate this is a hobby you're doing this for fun it's okay if it isn't perfect and polished you're doing it for fun [talking to myself in the mirror]

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

last line wip tag game

thanks to the incomparable @corrosivesaints for the tag and the kind explainer!

_____

He’s not just trying to make a good impression on his new crewmates - Carwood has always enjoyed honest work, and hauling in the various cages of cargo is repetitive and soothing, keeps him from thinking too hard about if he’s doing the right thing giving up his relatively safe job for the unknown of being out there in space. It’s easy, too, until he hefts a rolling crate up onto the stack by the bulkhead and the wheels on the bottom get stuck on the container below, and the whole lot teeters towards him.

He tries to brace the from the top but the combined weight is too much - until a pale hand appears between his, someone reaching over his shoulder and stopping the topple one-handed. He didn’t even hear anyone approach, and when he turns round the man is very close, close enough that their chests are brushing.

‘Sorry,’ the man says, nonchalantly, as Carwood jerks back, as if he isn’t holding up several hundred pounds of cargo with one hand. ‘You OK there?’

For a second, Carwood just goggles, then reaches out to help shift the stuck crate on top, though it doesn’t seem that his assistance is all that needed. The man steps back, dusting his hands off on faded trousers.

‘Thank you,’ Lipton says, because his momma raised him right. The man cocks his head in a sort of ‘it’s nothing’ gesture. ‘I’m Carwood, I guess I’m your new crewmate.’

‘Ron,’ the man says, and offers him his right hand, the one that hadn’t been holding the crates up, warm and firm in his grip. In the bright sunlight spilling into the cargo bay Carwood can see an odd network of barely-visible scars tracing up his arm like faint silver.

Ron leans back against one of the cages Carwood has yet to empty and return to the dock. He’s a little taller than Lipton, pale in a way that says he doesn’t get planetside much, well-worn clothes hanging just a shade too big on his slim frame. ‘I see our crewmates have left you to do the heavy lifting as a welcome present.’

Lip shrugs, it was kind of expected, and he really doesn’t mind. ‘I’m happy to do it, it’s sort of what I’ve been hired for, I think,’ he says, straightening his shoulders. Ron tilts his head and gives him a distinctly appraising look that takes in Lipton’s broadness with detached interest.

He’s got to have at least 40 pounds on Ron but there’s no way he could have caught those crates like that. The curiosity he’s been ignoring in favor of trying to be polite gets the better of him. ‘How did you do that, by the way?’ he says, nodding back at the offending stack of cargo.

Ron extends his left arm, and knocks it against the bar of the cargo cage, the muted clang of metal hitting metal sounding between them. ‘Upgrades,’ Ron says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

@carwoodron @humanoidluv @gingerwerk, with no obligation, perhaps little a wip, as a treat?

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

Nationalize Tumblr

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

my advice to anyone who’s thinking about writing as a hobby would be that if you’ve already started thinking about it there’s nothing i can say that will save you so let it rip dude

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

i see you all liking this post and yet no one's dropping the ao3 links, interesting

not to go full cherik on main but there has to be a fic of charles explaining his powers to someone and casually throwing in 'and i can control metal' and everyone being like ??? no you can't and him being like 'watch this' and either:

- doing the magneto cunty hand pose (TM) and letting erik move shit in secret

or (my favoured option)

- doing his own cunty hand pose and making erik control metal

someones done that, right???

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

not to go full cherik on main but there has to be a fic of charles explaining his powers to someone and casually throwing in 'and i can control metal' and everyone being like ??? no you can't and him being like 'watch this' and either:

- doing the magneto cunty hand pose (TM) and letting erik move shit in secret

or (my favoured option)

- doing his own cunty hand pose and making erik control metal

someones done that, right???

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

they should invent 7 hours between 10pm and midnight

[wouldthatbetheenemy]

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

[wouldthatbetheenemy]