#our gay girls in full color... onto the next comic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Seven

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 6th, 1986

Remy wasn’t entirely sure what his mother was glaring at the TV for. He was watching it play some boring news station or another, and there were a lot of people shouting, throwing things and picking fights, while rainbows and dozens of flags with different colors flew around in the background. His mother cursed under her breath, but Remy heard her.

Why was she so angry? Usually she didn’t get this mad, even if people were fighting. “They’re clearly wrong, why are they fighting against the truth?” his mother muttered.

Fight against the truth? Remy didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. What did rainbow flags and fighting have anything to do with truth?

June 11th, 2001

Remy’s first impression of Pride was that it was incredibly overwhelming. Remy’s second impression of Pride was that it was making Emile let loose, something Remy wasn’t sure was even possible until this point. Remy’s third impression of Pride was that it. Was. Awesome. Like, completely off-the-chain awesome.

People were surrounding them on all sides, some with pride flags, others with pins and badges, and some dressed like they were just going out on the town for a day. But all of them were happy, and laughing, and joking, and Remy wasn’t sure he had ever encountered so much positive energy in one place before.

Emile was standing next to him, beaming. He was currently looking around, for what, Remy wasn’t sure. Remy just hung next to him, unsure of where to go. He definitely enjoyed this, but he was so completely out of his element.

“Come on, girl, anywhere you want to go first?” Emile asked with a grin.

Remy’s cheeks dusted pink as he shuffled on his feet. He was wearing more feminine clothing today, his reasoning being that no one at a pride parade would care about whether or not he dressed masculine. He could probably go full drag and no one would bat an eye. But still, Emile calling him “girl” did something to his emotions that he couldn’t describe. “I’ve never been to a pride parade before,” he said. “I don’t know what there is to go to.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Emile said with a grin. “Why don’t we just look around at some of the stalls?”

“Okay,” Remy said, following Emile over.

He was surprised by how much of a social butterfly Emile was being. He was waving and high-fiving anyone in the general vicinity, yelling, “Girl, same!” whenever someone showed off bisexual colors, and generally putting himself out there in a way that Remy had only done anonymously in clubs before. Here, he supposed things were a little anonymous too, but it was still in broad daylight, where people could see them.

Emile walked up to one of the stalls, chirping, “Hi!” to the people on the other side.

Remy looked at the banner on their table and saw it was something for Catholics who were LGBT, and Remy inwardly shook his head fondly, because Emile wasn’t the most devout, but he did occasionally go to Mass. Of course he’d like people who were affirming in his faith. Remy looked around the other stalls curiously as Emile talked. He wasn’t really religious himself; he had too many bad experiences with his family’s church growing up to really put any trust in a higher power. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about which denominations might be accepting.

Emile took a little pamphlet from one of the people and came over to Remy. “See any churches you like?” he asked.

“Not really religious,” Remy shrugged. “Bad experiences.”

Emile winced. “Yeah, understandable. Should we move further in?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Remy agreed.

They walked down the street and Remy looked around. There were a few big name corporations advertising here, but not very many. There were stalls for small book companies, and...he paused. There was one for a queer comics startup! “Emile!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Comics!”

Emile laughed and followed Remy over to the stall as Remy looked at the different illustrations they had. So many cool superheroes, and then some more realistic-fiction looking stories, and some high fantasy and sci-fi was scattered in there too. “Woah,” he breathed.

“You like comics?” the woman behind the stall asked with a small smile.

“Like is an understatement,” Remy said, eyes never leaving the pictures. “Are you guys selling these?”

“These comics are purely for display,” the woman said. “But we are starting up subscriptions as we’re gaining traction. We’re in a couple comic stores around, where do you live?”

“Uh...” Remy blinked, forcing himself into the present. “Fairview.”

The woman nodded. “We’re in the comics store there, yeah. That’s about as far out as we’ve gotten, though.”

“Hey, if it means I get to read you guys, then it’s fine by me!” Remy exclaimed.

The woman laughed and offered him a bookmark. “Here’s a little information on us, and our company name, of course. I hope you like what you read from us.”

“Definitely,” Remy said.

He was still starry-eyed and Emile gently dragged him away from the stall. “They have queer comics, Emile! Like, I know there’s some queer characters in bigger comics, but these stories...they have main characters who aren’t straight! Can you imagine?!”

Emile laughed. “Hopefully one day they’ll have cartoons like that, too. Then maybe I can understand what you’re feeling a little better.”

Remy was almost hyperventilating. “Pride is amazing,” he said. “I love this. Can we come back next year?!”

“We definitely can,” Emile laughed.

They continued to walk, Emile constantly chatting and greeting people still. Remy got a few nods, and he shyly returned them, holding onto Emile’s hand.

“Hey, girl! In the leather jacket!” a voice called from behind them.

Remy turned in surprise as another person who was wearing a full-on dress in light blue, pink, and white walked over. “I really dig your outfit, girl! You look fabulous!”

“Oh! Uh, th-thank you,” Remy stammered out, nowhere near his usual confident self.

“She and her pronouns for me. You?” she asked.

“Uh...” Remy hesitated. Why was he hesitating? What was so hard about this? “He and him, I guess?”

The woman looked him over closely. “It’s okay, girl, we all have to figure ourselves out in our own time. He and him work for you, that’s great, but if you ever want to switch it up, know that you can do that, you know?” she asked.

“Uh...yeah,” Remy said. “I...I don’t think I’m transgender, but uh...I don’t always like being called sir, you know? Sometimes it’s fine, others it’s just...suffocating.”

“Gender roles are suffocating girl, I getcha,” she said, nodding. “Nice to meet you. Tell your cutie of a boyfriend that I like his enthusiasm.”

Remy smiled and nodded, and she moved on. Emile turned to look at him. “Who was that?”

“Don’t know,” Remy said. “But she liked your enthusiasm.”

Emile laughed. “Oh! Well, that’s sweet of her!”

“She also called you a cutie, in case you missed it,” Remy said. “And she’s not wrong.”

Emile laughed, blushing. “Well, I don’t see what either of you see in me, but if enough people say I’m cute, then I guess I’m doomed to be cute forever, huh?”

“Not forever,” Remy said. “And some people might find you hot. I like it when you wear those skinny jeans. Those look really good on you.”

“Remy!” Emile hissed. “That’s not helpful!”

Remy laughed. “Oh, come on, Emile! You know it’s all in good fun!”

“Do I, though?” Emile asked.

“I should hope so,” Remy said. “After all, you’re the one who jokingly called me ‘hot’ first.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Emile said. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who thought of me as hot first.”

“Yeah? I thought you were hot the day I dropped out of college and saw you in those skinny jeans for the first time, Emile. I’m not talking serious, I’m talking jokes. Get with the program,” Remy teased.

Emile snorted before clapping a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. “That early? Really?” he asked.

Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I know how to make anyone look good.”

“Shut up!” Emile laughed, starting to walk away.

“You know I love you, Emile,” Remy said. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you look hot, because I love you either way.”

“And I, you,” Emile said, kissing Remy’s nose. “Which is why I argue you don’t need that leather jacket everywhere you go.”

“Excuse you, that’s not to make me look hot, that’s part of my aesthetic!” Remy protested.

“Either way it’s unnecessary, Rem,” Emile shrugged.

Remy pouted. “You’re no fun,” he declared.

“Well, I do try,” Emile said. “It’s my mission to make sure you know I’m a stick in the mud, after all.”

“But you’re my stick in the mud,” Remy said.

“Oh, you better believe it. I’m not leaving you for anything in the world!” Emile said.

Remy laughed and his stomach held butterflies. “You mean that?”

Emile paused. “Yeah, of course I do,” he eventually said. “Barring some unfortunate accident, a messy fight, or any more drama from any sides, I don’t see myself leaving you.”

“Like, never?” Remy asked. He didn’t know why he was pressing this issue, but something inside him just wanted to be absolutely certain that Emile was certain.

Emile looked down at the ground, shuffling on his feet before he kissed Remy softly, sweetly, and with so much adoration Remy was practically drowning in it. A few people around them cheered or whistled, but Remy paid them no mind. His only focus was Emile, when he pulled apart, resting his forehead against Remy’s as he murmured, “Like, never. Never ever.”

Remy wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, so he blurted, “That’s gay, Emile.”

Emile laughed. “I love you too, Rem. Where do you want to go next?”

“Uh...food place, maybe? I could use a snack, if not lunch,” Remy said with a shrug.

“To the food trucks!” Emile exclaimed, causing Remy to laugh as they walked hand-in-hand.

Emile swung their hands lightly forwards and backwards as they walked, and Remy grinned. Emile, even when somewhat muted and calmer at pride, was still incredibly happy, and bubbly, and alive. He loved it when Emile seemed to come to life in a whole new way that Remy hadn’t seen before.

“What are you thinking about?” Emile lightly teased.

“You,” Remy said honestly. “You’re just...so alive. You’re completely in your element, and you’re so friendly and happy. You’re like a puppy experiencing grass for the first time. And it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, shut up,” Emile said, blushing. “I just really like Pride.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Remy said, nodding. “I don’t know why, it just seems to be something you’d like.”

Emile laughed and kissed Remy’s cheek. “It’s pretty great to not worry about PDA.”

“True,” Remy agreed, taking half a step towards Emile.

Emile squeezed Remy’s hand. “I’m super glad you came with me.”

“I’m super glad I came with you too,” Remy said. “Because I’m pretty sure Pride wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Emile grinned. “I mean, I’m sure you could have some fun without me...”

“But why would I want to?” Remy asked. “You make Pride fun...or more fun at any rate.”

“You mean that?” Emile asked.

“Of course,” Remy said. “I’m not sure I would want to go at all without you. You just make it...special.”

Emile squeezed Remy’s hand again as they approached the food trucks. “You flatter me,” Emile said.

“I’m speaking the truth,” Remy said. “Don’t sell yourself short, Emile.”

“Come on, what’s so fascinating about me that I make Pride more interesting?”

“You come out of your shell, like, entirely,” Remy said. “I’ve never seen you be so comfortable around a group of certified strangers before.”

“Well, the fact that I know they all at the very least support the fact that you’re gay and I’m bisexual and we’re dating helps,” Emile said simply. “I can go up to people and talk about you without having to just use your name and hope people assume I’m referring to you as a girlfriend.”

Remy sighed. “Yeah, I know you’ve felt weird about me visiting you at work because of that. Most everyone at my jobs know except for the managers, so as long as we don’t do obvious PDA we’re usually in the clear. But not having to worry about that at all is...”

“Freeing?” Emile offered.

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “It’s definitely freeing.”

Emile grinned. “Aw, Remy, you like me!”

“Shut up!” Remy laughed. “You knew this for literal months!”

“You like me! You like me!” Emile repeated, practically bouncing up and down.

Remy sighed and rolled his eyes, but inside, he was smiling. When they first met, he would never have thought he could have ever made Emile as happy as he was right now, let alone enjoy it. But he was never so happy to be wrong.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

3 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Top 10 Thanksgiving Episodes

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody! Time to eat a ton, pass out, and watch MST3K and all that. And since I already covered most of the general stuff about how diffrent this holiday is in my Loud House Review, and to reitarate to anyone having a big, 20 or so people crammed in a room thanksgiving this year

For the rest of us like all of the big three of Holidays, thanksgivings also the time for some classic episodes of television. Granted most shows stick to one, with some exceptions like friends, roseanne and new girl, but most make their one count. Thanksgiving may not be as big as the holidays it’s sandwitched in between, to the point christmas is slowly but surely trying to swallow it whole, but it’s still a time for family, fighting, and food that brings plenty of opprotunity for greatness and even with a smaller pool, I stiill had signifigant trouble narrowing down my list to 10. But I stand by what I got it wittled down to. This is my top 10 thanksgiving episodes! And for my regular readers, there’s a suprising lack of animation but i’m more than willing ot go outside that and now’s the right time, asi’m currently having a black friday sale with reviews marked down by two bucks to just 3 dollars for an episode of any tv show. Yes it’s a shameless plug but since when have I ever had shame? So with that in mind let’s chow down, it’s my top 10 thanksgiving episodes!

10. Pangs (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) Buffy is as a show I REALLY need to revisit. While lately, what with the abuse he did that we can’t get details on when making justice league or his you know cheating on his wife on and off over a decade, I’m not at all a fan of series creator Joss Whedon, Buffy itself is still a classic in my eyes.

The tale of a teenager given the role of the Slayer, a chosen female asskicker given moderate super powers and the duty to defend the world from vampires and other ghouls. The show dealt with the usual teen superhero stuff, ballancing asskicking with saving the world and arguably codified the genre, to the point I hold it at least partially responsible for the bigger wave of teen heroes in the 2000′s in animation and comics. The show had smart dialouge, metaphors, mythology and a rich, and vibrant cast. Sure some things haven’t aged well like an adult vampire dating a teenager or the really dated ways Willow’s sexuality were handled, as groundbreaking as it was, from barely letting her kiss her girlfriend or be shown being intimate iwth her, or just entirley shutting out the posiblity she’s bisexual. But a few age wrinkles aside the show is still good and I still need to rewatch it and that includes our number 10 pangs, one of hte most memorable and well done thanksgiving specials and one fo the shows more comedy moments. It’s thanksgiving, and Buffys mom’s going out of town, so she decides to hold thanksgiving at Giles place to bring her slowly drifting surrogate family together. Naturally given the way things usually go for our Slayer, she has a hard time of it as Willow chafes at celebrating colonolsim, Giles dosen’t get what the big fuss is about that or the meal being british, and Spike shows up looking for protection from season big bads the initiative, a secret military unit that’s chipped him so he can’t harm humans, so he has no way to eat and spends the mal tied to a chair. Oh and of course, a vengeful native american spriti from the chumash tribe has given Xander syphilis and killed a currator as revenge for his people’s suffering, so now Buffy has to fight a ghost bear if she want sa happy thanksgiving. Also Angel is back in town and being kind of a dick, but hey it leads to a good episode of his spinoff so whatever.

Pangs is just a fun episode, not only does it do well by not ignoring american colonalisim, but it just has a fun energy to it as Buffy desperately tries to have a good thanksgiving, Spike instnatly proves his worth as an addition to the gang both chemstiry and comedy wise, and we of course get this classic moment.

It had to fight it’s way onto the list, but pangs is a holiday dish worthy of sinking your fangs into.

9. The Dressing (Aqua Teen Hunger Force) Speaking of nutty fun thanksgiving episodes.. this one is simply that. I love Aqua Teen Hunger force.. even if like a lot of comedy shows it drooped in later seasons, it still has it’s classics earlier on and even later on has a few gems. But on the earlier on side we have their utterly bonkers and delightful thanksgiving episode “The Dressing”, a sequel to the Christmas Episode “The Cybernetic Ghost of Christmas Past from The Future”, which itself is an utter classic, but we’ll possibly get to that in december’s list.

The Aqua Teens are having Thanksgiving with Carl, whose naturally onlyt here for the free food and staying outside. it’s also days before or after, with black colored frito pie,a t urkey, and whatever else their broke selves could scrounge up. However, naturally, like Buffy a normal day for the Aqua Teens just isn’t complete without some weird shit happening, thanksgiving gets interrupted by the cybernetic ghost of Christmas past fromt he future, whose transformed himself into a turkey and wants to save their turkey so it can lead a rebellion in the bizzare hilarious distopian hellscape he comes from. This of course leads to him getting drunk, eating all their food and later showing up with a laser sock to murder carl after the episodes over. It’s just a fun time, a really funny episode and one of the teens more memorable outings. Not a lot to say here, it’s just really damn funny.

8. Arnold’s Thanksgiving (Hey Arnold!) Anoter classic I really need to revist but that more than earns his place here. Hey Arnold.. is easily one of the best animated shows ever. I say that with no hyperbole as it handled slice of life well while still getting dramatic when needed to, and is easily the gold standard for slice of life children’s cartoons to this day. And naturally it’s holiday specials were great, and I only r eally haven’t revisited them because they also hurt.. a lot. So unsuprisingly this one makes the list.

IT’s thanksgiving and given how chaotic things are for both Arnold and Helga’s families, our heroes are miserable. Arnold would understandably like just once to have thanksgiving on thanksgiving, his family instead doing fourth of july due to his grandmother being who she is. And Helga naturally is ignored and mistrteated as usual since her sisters home and her dad and alchoholic mother ignore her as usual even when she’s not around. What i’m saying is while Arnold’s issue is understandable, helga always wins a “whose got the shitter life” contest.

So the two flee to their teacher Mr Simmons, a character I genuinely loved and loved even more finding out he was gay as an adult, as he was a kind , supportive teacher who could be a bit softhearted but wasn’t afraid to step the fuck up when needed. But they find his thanksgiving isn’t much better, as his Mother and wont’ stop sniping at his boyfriend peter and clearly isn’t entirely comfortable with her son’s sexuality, his friend keeps snapping at peter and mooching off him, and his uncle.. well he’s just a loud asshole who wants turkey.. The kids naturally realize the meaning of the holiday, reconclie with their families who DID take genuine steps to make up for them being gone and missed them, all is well. It just shows nobody’s family is perfect, and is well done in that but also shows why thanksgiving has grown beyond it’s roots: It’s a day for families to get together and even if they may fight, recognize why they love one another. I also give the show balls for heavily imiplying a character is gay and not slapping a girlfriend on him or any of the usual bollocks: Simmons just very clearly is gay and it’s as transparent as the show could get at the time, with the show making it crystal clear years later with the revivial movie. Nice. We’ll have more servings of thanksgiving classics after the cut.

7. Slapsgiving (How I Met Your Mother) Oh How I Met Your Mother. You started out really good but boy did that go downhill fast and land in a nuclear inferno didn’t it? But I can bitch about the How I Met Your Mother Ending some other time, and probably will. In the show’s prime before they decided to stick with an ending no one wanted anymore, it was pretty great and while season 1′s also impressive Thanksgiving outing “Belly Full of Turkey” was considered, there was ultimately one slaptastic king when it came to Thanksgiving: Slapsgiving.

Naturally for this show Slapsgiving ties into the show’s suprisngly deep and rich lore: The season before this, Marshall and Barney made a “Slap Bet”, which is exactly what it says on the tin: A bet where the winner slaps the looser. And due to Barney prematurely slapping Marshall, Marshall got 5 penalty slaps to be dolled out whenever, one in that episode and another in a coda to another. For his next one though Marshall decided to outdo himself and set up a counter.. and it all comes down to thanskgiving. So we get a good ten minutes of Jason Siegel making meancing slap based refrences while NPH’s barney cowers in fear before Marshall’s wife lily pumps the breaks on the bet as comissoner.. only to reconsider when Barney makes the mistake of tormenting Marshall over it, resuling in the inevitible, and in THE thanksgiving song.

youtube

Basically it’s what happen when you give three really funny people a subplot together. Magic happens. The subplot is not bad either as a pre-totallyinsufferabledouchebag Ted hooks up with Robin again over lingering feelings and thanksgiving prep and the two have to deal with that... though it’s mostly funny for Robin’s new boyfriend, who Future Ted acknowledges is barely older than them, but admits to remembering as decrept old man, which results in a 30 something’s dialouge coming out of a very old man and me laughing very hard. A simple joke but one that really works. Overall a slaptacular good time.

6. Two Turkeys (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

NINE NINE BITCHES! I’m honestly shocked I haven’t talked about Brooklyn Nine Nine on here already, but it’s easily one of the best sitcoms in recent memory, if not of all time. It has one of the best ensemble casts, great jokes and timing, yet still ballances things out with a sense of realisim beneath the madness> It’s also noticable for holding it’s officers more accountable than most real world police departments, to the point all scripts that were written up for next season were thrown out post George Floyd. It’s truly a joy to watch.

So naturally they’ve had their share of Holiday episodes, with them easily having the best crop of halloween episodes since roseanne with their annual heists, and having some pretty damn memorable christmases, opening with this:

So naturally thanksgiving is no exception, with it’s last two being the best and it being a really hard choice wether to go with season 4′s “Detective Santiago” or this one. But as good as the other ep was.. this one inched it out for good reason.

The episode’s split into two equally good, equally hilarious plot lines. In the B-Plot, the 99′s Captain Raymond Holt, one of the best characters in sitcom history and gay icon, and his husband Kevin take their annual trip to get a pie for Holt’s families thanksgiving and come back with the well crafted pie, even if both prefer their food nice and bland. But the pie go missing and Captain Holt procedes to hilariously drill into each of the other members of the 99 and uncovering holes int their previous thanksgving stories with Rosa’s being suprisingly heartwarming (She’s going to a humilating minons on ice show with her family because they reconnected in jail.. setting up the equally awesome “Game Night” episode where she comes out.) and Boyle’s being utterly pathetic as you’d expect (Cooking his son mac and cheese because he’ll eat nothing else and declaring him a “basic bitch”). The solution however ends up being heartwarming as the culprit is actually Kevin, who hated the pie.. as did Raymond who suggests just taking the drive anyway because they enjoy the silent ride there and back every year. It may be boring to us.. but it’s preicious and really sweet all the same.. as it is hilarous when Kevin treats this as a big endugence and seems turned on by that. What i’m saying is these men are couple goals and Marc Evan Jakcson was awesome long before ducktlaes. The main plot is also great, as Jake and Amy, now engaged after this year’s halloween episode which is also , coincidentally, the series best, try to unite their families. It just goes about as well as you’d expect as Amy’s are type a control freaks, jake’s mom is a retired hippie school teacher and his dad is a human disaster area who has to be told to put on pants, cheated on his mom constantly, somehow got her back, and in general is barely functional on a good day. The families do bond breifly but things ineveitbly break down, hilarity and severed limbs insue and family comes together. IT’s just a funny, well done 20 mintues that’s also really damn sweet, with this plot ending with Amy’s dad accepting the chaos as that’s’ts what you do with family. Also jake naturally finds out he has a ton of step siblings as his dad was and still is a man whore. Happy Thanksgiving!

5. Bart Vs Thanksgiving (The SImpsons)

Let’s face it: if you follow my reviews at all you knew this was coming. While not one I go back to due to being an emotional kidney punch, i’d be doing this list a diservice if this classic wasn’t on there. In a nutshell, Bart starts a petty fight with Lisa over her centerpiece that ends with it in the fireplace, Bart sent to his room till he apologizes, and Bart seething insiting he did no wrong. It takes a visit to the homeless shelter after running away, and ending up on the news, to realize what an ass he’s been and one nightmarish dream sequence later, seriously why do you think I don’t revisit this one that often? This thing has traumatized me since I was a kid and unlike the slap song I will not be showing it to you, has a heartwarming reconcliation with his sister on the roof. It’s just a nice, sweet special that gets the holiday just right and i’d expect nothing less from Golden Age Simpsons.

4. A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving (Gilmore Girls) Another show I need to talk about more, Gilmore Girls is fucking awesome. The story of a woman who ran away pregnant at age 16 and built her own life for her daughter in the quirky town of stars hollow who finds herself reconnecting with her parents in present day against her will.. is really good stuff. Funny, heartfelt and really damn well acted with one hell of a cast, the show is part of me and I make no bones about that, so it’s big thanksgiving outing naturally belongs on here. The premise is simple: Rory and Loreli end up having to go to four diffrent thanksgivings, which even for big eaters like them is a massive task, each unique and entertaining. The main event of course is Suki’s, where everyone’s faviorite chef agreed to let her husband cook the turkey.. of course with the plan to sneak in mid cooking and add her own touches. This gets foiled when Jackson and his family decide to deep fry the thing.. probably in part because Jackson knows his wife well and knows what she was planning. Though over the night while our heroines are at their other meals, it devolves into them deepfrying everything they can get their hand son including a shoe, and Suki getting plastered to tolerate it. While not topping it the other meals and the sheer lunacy of four thanksigvings in one day, are still memorable: There’s the natural posh one at Richards and Emilys, the dour joyless one at The Kims where Mrs Kim forces the band to play the whole time and forces our heroines to eat food as joyless as Mrs. Kim, and Lukes for a nice round of Rory grappling with having PDA with her boyfirend Jess before resolving it at the end. Also dean’s a jackass. No one is suprised. Jess isn’t one at this stage in his character which is. Also Kirk adopts a cat that slowly pushes him out of his own house which works comedically becaus Sean Gunn is a national treasure. Overall a really good episode and if you have netflix and haven’t checked the series out, this is a good one to try out.

3. The Thanksgiving Special (Regular Show) I already talked about this one in my top 11 Regular Show episodes so i’ll try to be brief. In a nutshell Mordecai and Rigby destroy thanksgiving and genuinelly feeling bad about it, scramble to win a thanksgiving bird from a Thanksgiving Song Contest, going up against an all star super group comissioned by Donald Trump. Yes really. Meanwhile Muscle Man and High Five Ghost go to get sides and the rest of the park staff’s attemtps to get a turkey are thwarted by a bunch of thanksgiving reinactors who go unexplained in any way shape or form which given how rare that is for regular show, which usually has some sort of explination for the madness, just makes it funnier. It ends with a REALLY touching song, a fight on a blimp with outgoing president trump, and a truly heartwarming thanksgiving meal. All in all a nice special that combines the shows madcap nature with the genuine warm fuzzies of thanksgiving.

2. We Gather Together (Roseanne) Another series I need to talk about more.. and another series where one of the creators has turned out to be a terrible human being. Seriously Roseanne Barr is is a terible person, she deserved to be removed from her show, and while the Conner’s isn’t GREAT it’s still FAR better without her. That being said I will still stick up for the original as she wasn’t the only one involved (indeed the aformentioned Joss Whedon worked on the show breifly and Gilmore Girls creator Amy Sherman Paladino not only worked there but later adapted one of Roseanne’s insane antics, making all the writers wear caps with a number instead of referring to them by name , to Gilmore Girls.). Her being a bad person even then dosen’t change the fact that the show is sitcom gold, one of my faviorite shows, and a true classic. And this episode helps showcase WHY.

What makes this episode special, even among Roseanne episodes is it’s structure: While there are things going on it’s mostly a free floating day in the Families life and thus feels like your there with them through thanksgiving. It feels genuine, like past thanksgivings i’ve remembered: Everyone has their own stuff going on, they all eat, and there’s naturally a big blowup.. and one that eveyrone else ignores to eat which I can relate to. That authenticity really elevates the episode and is why I seek it out every year.

That’s not to say nothing happens, it just flows in and out like it would in a normal thanksgiving. Roseanne deals with her parents, a pre-abuser version of her dad and her overbearing nightmare of a mother beverly, and the inevetible blow up when Bev’s needling about Jackie’s life goes too far , prompting Jackie to reveal her new job as a police officer before bursting into tears, all to Roseanne’s annoyance. Rosie also moves them to a hotel despite an attempted guilt trip from her mom.

Speaking of Mom’s we see Dan’s for the only time before the later seasons and the utterly terrible last season, a professional career woman whose moved on well from her ex and brought her new boyfriend there. Ed, despite some comptemplation over it is firmly accepting and instead starts flirting with the Conner’s friend Crystal. Dan, being overprotective because of his Daddy Issues, but ed cals him out on it “Being lonely is a hell of a lot for two people to have in common, you woudln’t knwo anything abotu that son, and I pray to god you never do” A great caper to a fantastic episode.. one I thought was going to top the list... THOUGHT is the key word here...

1. Turkey in A Can (Bob’s Burgers) This one is. Bob’s Burgers is one of the best things to come out of the 2010′s and i’ve fallen way too far behind on it, so I can’t say if any thanksgivings after thankshoarding top this one.. what I can say is this one is the gold standard for thanksgiving episodes, and is filled with great stuffing.

Thanksgiving is Bob’s holiday. Being a chef he loves the chance to go all out, and really flex his muscles for his families when it comes to cooking up a storm, and it’s endearing when bob gets just as nuts as his family. But this year someone keeps flushing his turkeys down the toilet despite his best efforts, so while Louise hilariously tries to solve things to proe it wasn’t her (though it’s entirely fair they thought it was her consdering.. everything), while LInda, Gene and LInda’s flighty sister Gale try to write THE thanksgiving song. And while it’s no you just got slapped, damn if they didn’t succeed.

youtube

Sailors in your mouth indeed. It leads to plenty of great jokes the best being the guy at the Deli Counter thinking Bob’s into him and bob not being sure how to respond, but being mildly recpetive. But the climax is what makes the episode as when Bob falls asleep we find his medication has been making him sleepwalk.. and thus put the turkey s int he toilet, as Tina’s desire to be at the Grown Up Table, itslef a REALLY funny runner as you’d expect, has him panicking internally and thus reliving her potty training. The episode ends with Bob letting her come to the adults table, and a rather heartwarming thanksgiving feast. All in all an excellent episode. It also leads to the chaos seen above whic hif htat’s not thanksgiving, I don’t know what is.

Have a happy thanksgiving and check out my black friday sale! Until then there’s always another rainbow!

#thanksgiving #top 10 #bob's burgers #gilmore girls #buffy the vampire slayer #aqua teen hunger force #hey arnold #how I met your mother #the simpsons #roseanne #regular show #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #99

13 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

&New (Sashea) - Chae

summary: shea is a famous model, sasha is a famous designer. they *attempt* to have a nice, low-key, friendly date. a paparazzi has other plans.

a/n: i just posted this finished product to ao3 and thought why not bless the tl (wait is this even considered a tl.. well anyways) with some Sashea aka my favorite ship ever– whilst also proving i am not dead! also the lil marked line is where the smut starts i really said “cute… but also porn”

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24913066?show_comments=true&view_full_work=true#main

“What are you thinking about?”

“Hm?” Sasha looked at Shea from behind her coffee mug, taking a sip of the scalding beverage and carefully wiping around her red lipstick. “Nothing, really.”

“You sure?” Shea raised an eyebrow. If Shea knew one thing, if there was one motto she lived by, it would be that ‘Sasha is always over-analyzing something.’ Today, it could be her coffee at best, or her entire relationship with Shea at worst.

“I swear!” Sasha laughed, her eyes crinkling up in that adorable way they did, her mouth turning into a little scarlet-colored heart. If Shea knew two things, if there was a second motto she lived by, it would be that she could watch and listen to Sasha laugh forever and ever.

“What are you thinking about, Miss Coulee?”

“You,” the model answered honestly. There probably wasn’t a day Shea didn’t think about Sasha. No, fuck a day, a minute. They were ‘friends,’ sure, but both of them knew it was much more than friendship.

Unfortunately, the entire general public suspected the same thing.

Yes, Sasha was famous, but Shea was mainstream. Everyone knew about her, the newest model-Instagram-star-actress-songstress-activist-pole-dancing diva on the scene. And everyone caught on when Shea and the popular designer she’d walked for during fashion week were spotted in public together on numerous occasions. Straight social media played it off as business-partners and friends, but any fan with a brain—especially Shea’s young, very queer fanbase— would spot the gay energy from miles away.

And just like Shea’s sexuality, their relationship was undefined.

“Me?” The coy question was followed by the clack of Sasha’s teeth against the silver fork that held a pastry, which she placed delicately in her mouth.

“I said that,” Shea affirmed, her expression reading serious, yet her eyes gazing at the blonde with adoration.

“Why are you thinking about me?”

Shea scoffed. “Why am I not thinking about you?”

“You are a busy woman.”

“Not busy enough for you to leave my head.”

Sasha’s pale cheeks reddened. It was common for them to flirt, she should have been used to it. But every time Shea said something nice to her, she couldn’t help herself. God herself could have been complimenting Sasha and it wouldn’t compare to what Shea Coulee had to say. That was to say God wasn’t Shea Coulee.

Shea loved it when Sasha stared at her. When her piercing blue eyes bore into her soul like she was solving an unsolvable equation. It was funny how the petite woman considered Shea a goddess (she knew she did), when the only thing Shea wanted to worship was Sasha. Everything about her: her kind smile, her perfectly and uniquely beautiful face, her analytical shenanigans, her voice that sounded like how honey felt sliding down your throat. Almost a year of friendship, and every moment with her felt brand new.

All of a sudden, Sasha’s eyes snapped to somewhere behind Shea’s head, and her face fell. Shea had a feeling she knew what she was looking at, turning around to see a familiar camera nearing the coffee shop. Her heart dropped to her stomach, not wanting this paparazzi bitch to ruin the amazing day she’d planned for the two of them.

“Let’s go,” Sasha said hushedly, picking up her bag and completely ignoring her unfinished food and coffee mug.

Shea nodded, doing the same, a plastic cup filled with her frappuccino in one hand and Sasha’s own hand in the other. They’d held hands a few times, sure, but nothing beat the rush of interlacing her fingers with the shorter woman’s. She hadn’t really held her before, hadn’t cuddled or snuggled her often, but when she had Sasha’s dainty hand in hers it almost made up for every time she wanted to hug the breath out of her.

They raced down the street laughing, the entire situation almost comical. They looked like two crazy women, walking so fast it might have been classified as a jog and cackling like schoolgirls. But it felt right. As cheesy as that might sound, there wasn’t a better word for it. Familiar. Comfortable. Right.

Again, that was implying that everything didn’t feel right when Shea was with Sasha.

Shea led the other girl a few streets down, ducking behind a mahogany door and checking if the coast was clear. The pair found themselves in a small thrift shop—well, small was an understatement. It was a pretty big thrift shop. But it was quaint, and very artsy, very post-vintage. Very Sasha.

The designer, wearing her sunglasses to hopefully conceal her identity (some face mask, especially next to Shea, who forgot hers at home), looked at the shop in awe.

“Shea… where—”

“The internet,” the taller woman replied smugly.

“You went out of your way to find this for me?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she chuckled. “I wanted today to be fun for us.”

Sasha smirked. “With the camera creep on our tails?”

“More fun for us. Keeping you on your toes.”

The blonde laughed, a soft and knowing giggle. She perused the racks of clothing, feeling the fabric of every sleeve, every pant leg, tracing her fingers along the leather of heeled boots. Shea anticipated the well-dressed woman to pick up a garment multiple times, but she never did, not even the ones she thought were cute. Which left them for Shea, of course, but it also left her wondering what kept her from purchasing them. The designer was known to purchase both expensive and average priced clothes, Sasha caring more about the fit, the cut, the style more than who made it. But she was being extra picky today.

“Something on your mind?” Shea asked.

“No. Just… none of these are speaking to me.”

“Suit yourself,” the model clutched a fur jacket and a PVC skirt in her hands, ready to snag the cute plastic earrings at the cashier before checking out.

“Are you at least getting some inspo?” she asked again.

“Yes! I think. I don’t know. If it’s from this. I’m inspired, though. I’ve been inspired,” Sasha played with a lock of her curly blonde hair.

“By…”

“You.”

Shea smiled. “Me?” she mimicked Sasha’s earlier response.

“Shea,” the russian rolled her eyes. “Stop making fun of me when I confess my undying love,”

“Is that what we’re doing now?” Shea feigned surprise. “In the middle of the store?”

“Let’s buy you some lesbian earrings, I don’t think I’m going to get anything. Today,” she added.

It was when they were at the cash register when they simultaneously spotted the paparazzi—again. The same one. Across the street. Coming closer. Fuck.

Sasha bit her lip, not wanting to abandon the clothing Shea seemed so excited about. She didn’t have much time to think, so she mustered a “could you put these on hold? We’ll be back eventually,” before sliding the worker a twenty for their hassle. Whether or not they accepted that offer was yet to be found out, as Sasha and Shea were already out the door.

Their rush to escape the prying eyes of the cameraman took them to the metro, into a subway car, breathlessly plopping down in the only two open seats. Would either of their management teams let something like this occur? No.

Well. Too late. They were off, hopefully away from the paparazzi for good this time.

The pair kept their heads down in order to attempt to conceal their identities, as if that would do much on a crowded subway. But attempt was the key word in this situation. It didn’t stop them from stealing glances at each other the entire ride, smiling stupidly at absolutely nothing.

“So, Shea,” Sasha started.

“So, Sasha.”

“Where are we going?”

“Dummy, you’ll see, that’s the whole point.”

“You did not just call me a dummy.”

“What if I did, blondie?”

“Perpetuating not only female stereotypes, but hair color stereotypes? Tsk tsk,” Sasha shoved the taller woman’s arm lightly. Shea giggled in that full, sexy way that her voice always sounded, her voice trailing off into nothing, the pair falling into comfortable silence for a few moments.

“What?” Sasha asked, her voice laced with a joking tone.

“Nothing, I just like your face,” Shea replied with a wink.

“Oh my god, I swear I’m going to kill you one of these days,” Sasha rolled her eyes playfully, her cheeks flushing pink.

The train stopped, Shea perked up.

“This is us,” she said, her pearly white teeth peeking out from a satisfied smile.

Once again their hands interlaced in a gentle display of affection, Shea more familiar with public transport (despite a couple years of not using it) than Sasha, leading her through the complicated catacombs of the metro station.

They emerged in a park, and a smile immediately found itself creeping onto Sasha’s face. Reluctantly, they severed their skin-to-skin contact at the sight of the crowded lawn, Sasha dubitifully following Shea’s path.

Their altitude heightened and the amount of people decreased, and the sun shone bright on the two girls as the hill they climbed steepened.

Shea stopped, smiling at the sight of a familiar footpath.

“It’s still here!” She pointed out, mainly to herself, almost jogging through an overhang of trees.

Sasha scurried after her, the sun disappearing briefly behind the leaves before reappearing even brighter than before in a small, protected, deserted clearing, overlooking the entire city.

Shea stood at the edge, looking like nothing short of a painting with a slight breeze ruffling her long black hair, set against the picturesque landscape.

Sasha appeared behind her, the sunlight bringing out her rosy cheeks and freckles.

In that moment they were joined together in the same work of art.

“Shea, this is so beautiful,” was all Sasha could say.

“I came here to think when I was younger, after school. I kind of hated my friends. And then I met new ones, and then we came here at night and we drank and we smoked. And then, you’ll never guess,” Shea explained excitedly. Sasha hung onto her every word like it was gospel, wanting to retain every single slice of the taller girl’s life.

“I think I have some idea,” Sasha laughed.

“I had my first kiss here, too. Only good memories. I haven’t been back for a while, but I guess I just never found the need to.”

“We’re coming back, Shea. When we get chased by paparazzi, we’ll go here,” Sasha said, her eyes darting from the city to Shea and back again, not quite sure which sight was more beautiful.

They found themselves laying in the grass, side by side, staring up at the clouds. Cliche, but so, so wonderful.

“I’m just glad we ditched that creep,” Shea mused.

“I just— what does he want? What does he want out of seeing us together?” Sasha pursed her lips.

“I think you know just as well as I do.”

“Yeah, the fans get even more fuel for their shipping fire.”

“We are always together… “

“Of course, but we’re not together together.”

Pause.

Shea turned her head to Sasha, who was already looking at her.

“What if I wanted… to be together. Together,” the words weren’t exactly unplanned, but they still sounded alien to Shea’s lips.

“Shea—”

“No, it’s fine if you don’t. I just thought, natural progression.”

“Shea, oh my god, I think I love you,” Sasha’s warm hands were on Shea’s cheeks.

“Wh-” and the word was cut off by the most magical, euphoric, shiny sparkly fiery kiss that Shea had ever experienced in her life. The first thing she registered was the taste of coffee and vanilla still on Sasha’s lips. The second was each time their tongues found their way into the others mouth it an entire fireworks show exploded. The third was her arms snaking around the pale girl’s small waist and her own arms tracing up and down Shea’s side.

“I love you,” Sasha repeated against Shea’s lips, catching them between her own red-stained mouth.

“I love you, too, Sasha Velour. That’s what I wanted to say today. Thank you for making it easier,” Shea kissed the other girl’s nose.

“You put together this whole day for us, for it to get ruined, for you to bring me here?”

“We were coming here no matter what. Only good things happen here. Sasha, you’re the best thing yet.”

Sasha blushed, unabashedly now, then pressed another kiss onto Shea’s lips. She traced the side of the raven-haired woman’s face, Shea sighed into her mouth.

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?” she asked, Sasha laughing at the obvious question.

“Nothing would make me happier. Really.”

The gaydar of the world was correct, it seemed, in picking soulmates in the two girls.

Under the light of the sun, in the grass, with the breeze sliding over their faces, they were Living & New.

——

The door clicked shut.

And Sasha’s pale, slender hand dropped from the handle. She turned around, eyes scanning the woman taking off her jacket.

Shea looked back with a smirk, finding it hilariously sexy when Sasha tried to give ‘the look.’

“There’s no need for bedroom eyes, we’re already in your bedroom.”

“Really? I would have never guessed,” the blonde teased as she took their coats and shoes and placed them by the door. They’d come in so excitedly that they headed straight for Sasha’s room without thinking.

“But it’s okay,” the taller woman padded over to Sasha, lifting her chin up to face her. “I like it here.”

“You’d better, especially since you’ll be here so often” Sasha leaned in close, her voice a playful whisper.

“Will I, now?”

“Hmm,” was the Russian’s response, as her lips were already interlocked with Shea’s.

Their lips moved together familiarly, the feel and taste of each other’s mouths still fresh in their memories. Almost immediately Shea’s hands reached for the hem of Sasha’s turtleneck, beckoning her to remove it, and Sasha smirked as she pushed Shea back onto the bed. The woman was silhouetted against the nighttime cityscape behind the bed — similarly to earlier that day at the park.

Sasha broke the kiss with a soft bite on Shea’s lip, wiggling out of the taller girl’s grasp. Shea made a noise in protest, but the blonde shushed her. She walked to the other side of the bed, so now her back was to the giant plexiglass window.

“You want my shirt off?” she teased, watching Shea scan over her quizzically.

The model nodded.

Sasha chuckled softly while slowly stripping off the cotton top. Her bra was lacy and white and pushed her breasts up slightly in a way that drove Shea mad. Shea crawled over the bed, beginning to unzip her own dress frantically.

“No, babe, wait,” Sasha smiled. “I thought you’d like a show.”

Shea’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“Yes way.”

“You spoil me,” she brought her hands to her heart. “This is so fucking sexy.”

The slight growl in the model’s voice sent a shock from the back of Sasha’s neck to her core. She fumbled with the zipper of her pencil skirt, trying her best to remove the stiff fabric in a provocative manner. Of course, the designer could fall flat on her face and Shea would still find it sexy, but Sasha was nothing if not a pleaser.

To Shea’s surprise and delight, Sasha was hiding a pair of matching white garters underneath the long skirt. All day. Just for her.

“Holy shit.”

“Like what you see?”

“Fuck, Sasha,” Shea raised a hand to beckon the shorter girl over. Her palms hovered over Sasha’s hips as she took the girl in entirely. “Can I—”

“Always,” Sasha bit her lip, brushing a finger through Shea’s dark hair.

Shea guided Sasha onto her lap, the motion causing her minidress to ride up as she pressed her lips onto Sasha’s once again. Kissing Shea was an experience that could only be described as heaven on Earth, her lips encapsulating the entirety of Sasha’s psyche, the way her tongue intertwined with hers intoxicating and addicting and beckoning to push deeper into the kiss. Her hands threaded their way through Shea’s long black hair while Shea’s roamed Sasha’s small frame, feeling every bit of soft exposed skin and every inch of scratchy lace.

Sasha felt Shea’s lithe fingers unclasp her bra, and hummed softly in affirmation as she let the other woman slide it off. Shea’s pillowy lips latched onto the crook of Sasha’s neck, tracing short and gentle kisses, sucks, licks, and bites down her clavicle. She looked up at Sasha to see her blue eyes blown out and dark, a pale finger swiping over her cheek and a smile creeping onto her stained-red lips. Shea smiled back mishieviously, taking the girl’s nipple in her mouth and swirled around the bud, her other hand cupping the other breast. Sasha let out a moan at the sensitive contact, greedily pushing the back of Shea’s head closer. Shea nibbled playfully in response and let out a muffled laugh into Sasha’s chest.

“You’re so needy!” she smiled. She pulled back and continued to knead the other woman’s breasts.

“Shea, I made a mistake,” Sasha bit her lip. Shea confusedly paused, worry glazing her expression.

“Baby, are you okay?”

Sasha couldn’t stop herself from grinning foxily. “I shouldn’t have got you so worked up, now I have to wait for you to fuck me.”

Shea snort-laughed, her hands instinctively reaching out and touching Sasha’s arms. “You little shit! Get on your back already!”

Sasha contentedly obliged, getting comfortable at the head of the bed. Shea took off her dress in the meantime, crawling in between Sasha’s legs.

“Is this better, my fair lady?” Shea asked sarcastically.

“Yes… but….”

“But….”

“Your mouth is up here, and not down there!”

“I hate you.”

“I love you!”

Shea smirked and crashed her lips on Sasha’s once again, her hands gripping at the hem of the pale girl’s underwear and shimmying it lower. She disconnected the kiss and stripped the rest of Sasha’s garters off, taking a moment to admire the woman laid before her. Sasha was thin, with toned arms from her hours of drawing and sewing, broad shoulders and smaller breasts and a tiny waist. Her skin was airbrush-smooth, and freckles dusted her collarbone and shoulders and thighs. Shea wanted to kiss every little spot on her body.

“You are so beautiful,” Shea breathed.

“I’m beautiful for a mere mortal, but that’s nothing next to a goddess like you.”

Shea’s cheeks grew warm, the praise making her heady. “If I’m Aphrodite, you’re nothing short of Athena.”

“The lesbian love story the Greeks didn’t deserve,” Sasha laughed. Her hands were kneading at the sheets under her, and although Shea could tell she was trying to be intelligent in the moment, she was obviously growing impatient. Shea looked down and could see the wetness coating Sasha’s pussy and had to hold back a chuckle at how well the girl was holding herself back.

Conversation ceased as Shea leaned down, fulfilling her self-promise and kissing up Sasha’s milky thighs, nearing closer to where Sasha wanted her the most. Shea avoided it, kissing around her pelvis and nipping where the skin was soft. Again, her mouth drew nearer and Sasha whimpered.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Shea…”

The model looked up with a glint in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Sasha, you’re with me. You don’t have to be so uptight, especially not now.” She kissed right on top of her clit. Sasha whined.

“What do you want me to do, baby?”

“Just—just… you know, just—”

“I don’t know,” Shea smirked.

“Goddamnit, just eat me out already!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, princess.”

And Shea was licking languidly down Sasha’s folds, savoring the way she tasted and going back for more. She probed around her entrance, the soft sounds Sasha was making before gradually growing into prolonged moans. The designer’s voice wasn’t high pitched naturally, so it translated into musical and full sounds under Shea’s touch and Shea couldn’t get her unique moaning out of her brain. She flattened her tongue against her clit and immediately a strangled ‘mmph’ sounded above and two small hands found themselves buried in Shea’s hair.

Shea licked, pressing harder with each pass as Sasha got more and more worked up. Her voice was breathy and her hips were bucking off of the mattress and her head was turned to the side, and she just looked so pretty with the sheen of sweat coating her forehead and her hair around her head in a curly halo.

Sasha’s hands roamed to her own breasts, the motion being impossible to hold back as she kneaded them in time with Shea’s mouth. The taller woman hoisted Sasha’s thighs upwards and continued to lick, sucking over and over again at her clit, now at a better angle.

Sasha’s thighs were trembling as the pressure in her lower abdomen increased, her calves spasming as the sensations became too much to handle. She couldn’t stop herself—even if she wanted to— from letting obscene, low, drawn out sounds escape her throat. Shea’s mouth felt too good to suppress it, and Sasha was willing to let it go for once. If not for her own good, for Shea.

Sasha tried to catch her bottom lip in between her teeth, but as soon as she bit it another shock of Shea’s tongue brought out another moan and her head was knocked back and her lips open.

It was when Shea heard her name being yelped over and over that she knew Sasha was close, and registered that she herself was probably dripping wet. If the nonverbal sounds turned Shea on, her own name almost sent her over the edge.

Shea brought her hand up to gently hover around Sasha’s entrance, continuing her assault on her clit.

“S-sh-oh my god, oh my fuck-” was something along the lines of what Sasha rambled on about, gasping for air as her orgasm reached it’s very climax. Shea felt her tense briefly, before her entire body relaxed and Sasha was muttering softly and finally breathing regularly again.

Shea’s mouth was swollen, her tongue sore, her body tired. She fell beside Sasha on the pillows, turning and watching as the blonde regained her senses. She was a vision, wrapped up in the sheets with her makeup smudges and her eyes half shut and tired. Suddenly, she seemingly remembered something and turned to Shea.

“Do you need me to, now?”

“What, fuck me?” Shea smiled. Sasha nodded.

Shea looked down at herself. She was wet, that fact was undeniable. She was also tired, but as her arm tingled at Sasha’s feather-light touch, her energy inconspicuously returned.

Shea kissed Sasha softly, all lips and no teeth, as Sasha’s hand made its way lower and lower. Sasha cherished Shea as if she was a goddess — well, to her, she was. She wanted to feel every part of her warm skin, register it’s softness and make sure it was real and that the beautiful woman lying beside her was, in fact, tangible. Sasha caressed her thigh and moved inward, trying to fit her dainty hand in between Shea’s thighs.

Shea’s breath hitched when Sasha’s fingers hovered over her clit, and she gave the other woman more space so her hand would slip lower. Sasha gently slid her hand through Shea’s already-slick folds, and a little whimper drew itself from Shea’s throat.

“You sound so pretty, Shea,” Sasha’s voice was soft.

“I-” Shea was interrupted by her own whine as Sasha pressed against her clit. “Not as g-good as—fuck—you, I bet.”

“I beg to differ,” Sasha replied with a smirk and a breathy tone, massaging small circles now. Their faces were nearly touching, but Shea threw her head back now, mouth stuck in an ‘o.’

“Aah—agree to disagree-ohh-” Shea looked back with wide eyes. “Right there, fuck, that feels so good,” her hips were doing their best to grind forward, knocking into Sasha’s pelvis a little.

Sasha had an idea, then.

“Darling, prop yourself up,” she smiled, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. Shea only had it in her to follow Sasha’s orders without a word.

With some maneuvering, Sasha managed to hook a leg over Shea’s and entangle herself in the other woman so that she could feel the heat from her sex on her own. Shea understood the scenario exactly, a giddy smile plastered on her face.

“Sash, you know me too well.”

With a considerable amount of effort, Sasha managed to bring their genitals into contact, and the sounds that escaped both women’s lips could have come straight out of a porno.

As they grinded in time, rubbing their pussies together, feeling probably the best they’d ever had ever and completely disregarding a need for lube because they were already wet anyway, they wondered why the hell they hadn’t thought of scissoring before.

“Holy shit, Sasha, if I’d had known, fuck,” Shea tried to get out, but the pressure or Sasha against her clit just drowned out the words.

Sasha was basically post-verbal at this point— quite an achievement for someone such as herself— and she grabbed into Shea’s thigh in a vain attempt to ground herself. A feeling like this made her feel so high she wasn’t sure she’d come back down.

And so their cunts rubbed together, the only sound in the entire large three-story house the almost-hypersexual moans of the pair as those grew louder and closer to screams than anything.

“Shea, Shea, Shea, I-I think, oh god I’m going to—” Sasha frantically jerked her hips and yelled her relief as her second orgasm tore through her. The rush of fluid onto Shea’s pussy was enough to get her throbbing, and it wasn’t long before she finally got her release, shouting Sasha’s name.

The next few moments were a blur, the two women beyond spent, muscles sore and heads light. Apparently they both managed to hobble to the bathroom and tidy themselves up a bit, because the next thing Sasha fully registered was cuddling into Shea’s side. Shea didn’t even get that far, the moment her head touched her pillow, she was fast asleep.

Moonlight mixed with the lights of the city, basking the entire room in a periwinkle afterglow. It was entirely possible someone in one of the high-rise apartments across the street saw their whole ordeal, and the thought made Sasha laugh. If they’d known who they were, if they’d known what Sasha and Shea were doing, their lives would be over. The only thing that meant more to Sasha than Shea herself was Sasha’s work, her designs. To have that taken away was impossible, and she knew Shea felt the same about walking a runway.

Sasha squeezed Shea. In the privacy of her home, she could get used to this. In the light of the stars there was nobody to stop them from loving each other. No prying eyes and paparazzi stalkers. It was Sasha and Shea. And during the day, they could both have what they loved.

It was give and take. It was upsetting. But it was life, and the comfort of seeing each other after a hard days work made it all worth it, somehow,

Living in the sunlight, Loving in the moonlight.

#rpdr fanfiction #sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #song fic #lesbian au #fluff #smut #model x designer au #chae #submission

24 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-15

This caught me laaaate at night gosh I’m tired but I’m gonna get it outta the way so it won’t stick in my craw! Already saw the first page, so it’s time for:

> CHAPTER 13. The Funeral

Church with chess symbols at the peaks and a Prospit/Derse or Hope/Rage split color theme on the stained glass windows.

JANE: Dearly beloved...

> (==>)

Trolls, humans, and papparazzi. Oh, hm, this church is RATHER carapacian isn’t it? Between the chess and the continuing Prospit-Derse themes, like how this corresponds to how they align in the incipisphere top-left to bottom-right if I recall:

(Minus the outlying orbs to the left and right for symmetry.)

That twisted pattern is interesting, and not quite a spirograph. Is that gonna be important later? If we’re going to get some sort of class chart later in the comic, it’d be easy for them to hint at the chart’s graphical structure subtly by dropping it places like here.

JANE: Ladies... JANE: Gentlemen... JANE: News outlets... JANE: And other valued members of the Human Nation State.

Technically true, but still odd to hear-- ...oh right, I forgot this was asshole dictator-wannabe Jane, too.

I read an interesting twitter thread recently about the intense psychological distinction between wanting to BE the best, and wanting to be TREATED like you’re the best. Epilogues/HS^2 Jane is kind of written as a case study on the pitfalls of leaning on the latter instead of the former.

> (==>)

They brought Yiffy WITH them-!? --Oh right. The hostage exchange was supposed to happen here wasn’t it.

Yiffy definitely looks like a Harley-Lalonde daughter in this shot.

JANE: Gamzee Makara, High Court Jester, exalted saint of the purple veil, has left us to traverse that grand, gay carnival in the sky, where, I am told by various members of the clownly cloth, he will spend the rest of history, honking in grand tribute to the Mirthful Messiah.

SINGULAR???

Weird. Is it because Alt!Callie “won” here?

Or is Jane just forgetting because she’s culturally used to monotheism (ironically) and is insensitive.

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince, was his robust codpiece--

Wow.

> (==>)

JANE: --As he offered me his friendly support, along with the sacred blood of his brethren, the holy sacrament--

He STILL killed trolls??! (EDIT: No, a friend points out that she's talking about when she met him first in Act 6 and he tried selling bottles of troll blood to her. EDIT2: -which may be another inconsistency, since Vriska supposedly overwrote that post-retcon.)

> (==>)

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

Bad things about Gamzee deserve to be said here, yes.

Jake wonders what she’ll say about him, at his own funeral.

Now those are some uncomfortable thoughts.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really. He wishes he could have gotten to know her under better circumstances. He’d known she existed, of course--Jane had complained about her often enough--but they’d never had much chance to get acquainted. He rather believes her and Tavvy would have been fast friends.

Then again, perhaps it’s better that she never had much of a chance to get to know his family.

He lets go of the leash.

Yep, there’s a plan to set in motion that he’s probably already discussed with her privately. Gotta unite this four-kid team after all.

> (==>)

Wait, are you ATTACKING?!? --Of course you’re attacking. You would even if the plan was something different, wouldn’t you.

JANE: And I know that at times like these it is easy to want to give in. JANE: To throw in the towel, and turn our faces away from the light of democracy and moral fortitude that we, the citizens of the human kingdom, are blessed with from birth. JANE: God knows I’ve had my own faith tested in the last few weeks.

Jesus Christ, what has she turned the place into, a fucking theocracy?

She sounds like the leader of some screwed-up, fundamentalist country! Like the United States!

*rimshot*

JANE: As many of you know, I did not grow up with the same privileges that all of you enjoy.

Jesus.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

Jesus, she really IS a self-evident takedown of hypocritical entitled political figures. With the bonuses having Jasprose explicitly ADDRESS said entitlement to make things even clearer cut.

JANE: And as for Gamzee, well, his upbringing was even worse. JANE: He was born to a violent and uncaring home, a lonely child with few natural gifts.

...Some natural gifts and status.

> (==>)

She’s just, shaking with fury here isn’t she? And about to perform an impressive corpse-lob.

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

This sentence seems suspicious so I’m quoting it to refer to later if I need to, but is probably just platitudes.

> (==>)

JANE: Poised

> (==>)

JANE: Trembling

Okay maybe the sword’s a dick, but what exactly is Yiffany doing?? I’m finding it difficult as usual to tell between some of these image transitions.

> (==>)

JANE: Ready to burst forth--

Bad PR to shock-collar a kid mid press junket. (Very dicks description.)

> (==>)

Click. (Did they swap the shock function with Jane’s necklace somehow, that’d be fun.)

JANE: I want to give up, at times. I understand your pain.

While shocking a kid? GREAT PR.

> (==>)

JANE: I sympathize with your pain.

Wow, those horrified audience members. She REALLY can’t even see herself anymore can she? Not even hear herself. And they’re making sure this is pointed out to EVERYONE watching. They described this as in large part a PR campaign to defeat her, didn’t they?

> (==>)

Great furious businesswoman-villain look, that art.

JANE: But when that pain! Becomes too hard! To endure! JANE: Remember poor, lifeless Gamzee! Who suffered pain far worse than any of us could ever fathom! JANE: THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL!

Click click click. This is a fun sequence.

> (==>)

DIRK: Dude, didn’t you lower the voltage on that shock collar? DIRK: Little Red isn’t looking so hot. JAKE: Yes of course i did but the damn doohickys got the kick of a donkey! JAKE: I couldnt remove it completely shed know i was the one who did it! DIRK: Well, if that supervillain cuntwaffle doesn’t stop, she’s going to kill her. Not really the best at hostage management, is she.

Decent plan. (And of course Dirk would pull out the word cunt.) When’s the cavalry coming?

> (==>)

JANE: But we cannot allow his memory to be in vain! JANE: For Gamzee Makara taught us that even the most loathsome degenerate can take their place in society. JANE: All they need is the right redemption arc - !

Trying to hammer home some of the Epilogue’s trolly-critical themes a little less bleakly, I take it.

I kind of like the violent vibration in ALL of these gifs in a row. It makes the scene seem small, slow, teeth-clenching but still full of steady action, emphasizing the importance of the relatively small events from panel to panel while giving them the sense with the animation of them being [i]drawn out[/i] and tortuous instead of just “occurring”. It feels that way to me, anyway.

> (==>)

If he got up alive here, that’d be hilarious. (Presumably he’s been treated and done-up like a normal funeral body, not “dormant” and undecaying like a dead god-tier.)

> (==>)

CORPSE PUNT w/ CLEATS

> (==>)

That face is just. I love that face.

> (==>)

SHE MAD

JANE: Young lady, I am just about at the end of my rope with you. JANE: Throw all the dog bowls you want at the walls of my warship. JANE: But don’t you dare act up in front of a JANE: Live JANE: Fucking JANE: Newsfeed! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

What did you expect to happen? Do you expect to shout her down from this, Jane?

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world! JANE: Just imagine what Rose and Jade would say if they could see you now, even dissidents can have a little decorum! JANE: Get down from there at once! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

But this is GAMZEE. --I guess it’s seriously disrespectful to his followers, though. Still. If you wanted civility from her, a shock collar, leash, and food bowl wasn’t the way to go about it.

JANE: Don’t you threaten me, young lady. Not today! YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR

What is your PLAN even, Jane? You’ve completely disregarded her.

JANE: There’s nowhere for you to go. My agents are swarming this church. Be reasonable, Yiffany. JANE: Ugh. JANE: Disgusting name. JANE: But that’s hardly your fault. You were always just a footnote. Your parents’ little prank. JANE: Honestly, that’s why I helped them all those years ago! I do love a good jape. JANE: But let’s be serious. JANE: You don’t matter. If you did, they would have come for you already.

Can all the press hear her being such an asshole?

Okay, stereotypically, their arrival should be the next couple panels:

> (==>)

Jake, do something useful like hoping harder.

> (==>)

And she knocks the remote away. Excellent.

And she does. Seemingly at the end of her tolerance for insults toward her name, social status, and heritage, Yiffy performs an impressive backflip off the podium and down onto the church floor. One that, if it hadn’t been happening amidst a sea of other newsworthy events, would surely have ended up on someone’s instagram story within thirty seconds. She gives Gamzee’s corpse one last parting kick: a hard, proper kick that proves those cleats aren’t just for fashion. Although they are certainly also for fashion.

Good, good.

He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

God damnit.

> (==>)

Jake watches this from a safe distance, poised on the edge of intervening to pull Yiffy out of there. But in the end he doesn’t have to. Instead he watches in admiration as she tears the place to utter shreds. An echoing sympathy swells inside of him as she rends apart the funeral flowers and punts Gamzee into the shrieking congregation. Here is a girl who felt the cold, indecent hand of fate wrapping around her, and instead of submitting to it and slowly sublimating down into morasse of boiled doormat, she slapped it away from her with a lively oh, no thank you.

All at once, Jake feels immense affection for his granddaughter. He hopes the two of them can make up for lost time.

Lessons belatedly learned, but learned nonetheless.

> (==>)

JANE: Enough of this. JANE: Seize her!

Kind of Red Queen of you. (Are those stained glass windows in back of the frame about to burst?)

> (==>)

Yep.

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Even attacking a disgusting faith’s church is pretty bad form, though.

Tired and busy, seeya next upd8. <3

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers

16 notes · View notes

sunnynoki · 4 years

Text

Goodbye to Halos - How Fenic (The Main Protagonist) is Fenic (The Lost Princess)

Ok y’all buckle up because it’s about to be a wild ride.

FIRST OFF: READ GOODBYE TO HALOS. It has incredibly good writing and art and characterization!!! Fenic, the main protag, is a trans lesbian!! The other protags include (but are not limited to) a genderqueer gay lion and a poly wlw! I’ll post a link in the notes so this post shows up in tags, but a search of “Goodbye to Halos” will get you there in the first link!

Also cred to @demi-virgo for encouraging me to make this ;w;

Ok so I don’t know how to format this so let’s just start from the first hint and go from there.

And one more important note: Current Fenic will be referred to as just Fenic, and her mom will be referred to as The Lost Princess.

HINT ONE: THE MAAVE

So maave’s are, as a refresher, the mark under a Shade’s eye. They are a unifying trait of the shades (Along with horns and magic, but less so as they aren’t retained in children of Shades and Wildren, but I digress). But there are also "no two alike in form and color”, as Enae put it.

Which is WEIRD because

Yeah. Impossible. UNLESS... THE LOST PRINCESS AND FENIC ARE THE SAME PERSON! And not in an amnesia kinda way, but in a restarting life kinda way. But we’ll get to that.

Addendum:

The wording of “you are very, very closely related to The Lost Princess” is weird when Enae already knows that Fenic is the lost princess’s daughter. Also the rest of this page speaks for itself I think. “Lost princess was immortal”, “There’s no other Fenics” (especially Fenics with that maave and other traits like red hair). This establishes that Fenic and the Lost Princess look similar, if not alike/identical. This will be essential in hint three.

Continued under the cut because I got a loooooottttt more ;3

HINT TWO: GOD’S BLESSING

So as the fight continues, God Herself literally steps in. Well, an avatar of Her’s, later named a Godeye.

God intercepted the knife from hitting Fenic. I won’t post the entire scene here, but basically God shoots the knife at Enae, wounding her BAD. But as God goes to send another attack, Fenic comes in and stands between the two. And then She freaks out????

Now maybe God isn’t a god, but God is just Her name? Also interesting is how She is the only one to use lower case, and only when She says “I”. But that’s another post, as I digress...

God Herself is asking forgiveness from Fenic? After Fenic asked (with her actions” for God not to attack Enae? Enae later talks about this in the following chapter:

“And that girl... blessed by God, she’s the only other one who can sway Her heart. Fenic...”

And who else was blessed by God? The Lost Princess. Before this, Fenic has had no reason to be blessed by god besides being related to the (immortal, may i remind you) lost princess who "died” before Fenic can remember.

(Also another digression... the only other one? Who is the one Fenic is the “other one” off of? Maybe The Dead Princess? Maybe the old empress? Both are dead, but it’s phrased that she’s one of two, and coming off this theory, perhaps she and The Dead Princess pair up to be the two that can sway God’s heart.)

HINT THREE: ASHER AND TAHMONAI

So their meeting has a ton of different sentences that lead towards this theory, so I’m just going to group them all here. (Note: Enae is narrating and Asher and Tahmonai are talking about The Lost Princess. Tahmonai morphed to The Lost Princess to ask if Asher has seen her.)

“The person you’re looking for... she doesn’t exist anymore” and “That, too was-- somehow -- not true” and “[The Lost Princess] is really immortal too”... these statements don’t have a lot of intersections in the venn diagram of where they can all be true. The only fact that I can think of that does make them true is that Fenic is the rebirth of The Lost Princess. Continuing onto the next page...

There’s a lot to break down here:

“She... was a dear friend of mine.” Meaning The Lost Princess was a friend, not a romantic interest with whom he would have a child with.

“Someone I was lucky enough to know all my life, even if she only knew me for a fraction of her’s.” Implying that The Lost Princess was MUCH older than Asher. Immortality, anyone?

“But there are... circumstances now. Nothing will come of this, Tahmonai.” If this theory is true, then those circumstances are that The Lost Princess doesn’t have her memories, she restarted her life. She isn’t the same person. It clicks.

“Stay in my office. I’ll make arrangements.” Implying he is going to see The Lost Princess to arrange a sort of meeting. But instead he goes to Fenic to send her through the portal. Funny writing there, don’t you think?

After Asher sends Fenic through the portal...

“Did I do the right thing, old friend...?” The name “old friend” is being used here to denote he’s talking about The Lost Princess. Perhaps where she/her reborn self just went through the portal?

“I have to believe this is what you wanted.” (The word “wanted” can be seen if you zoom in close, at least at full resolution). Keyword: “this”. Not “that”. “This” means something that is near, something that was just there. Why would he use “this” for something from someone who is dead? No, what if she, or a version of herself, was just there? And what exactly she, The Lost Princess, wanted? We’ll get to that in hint five.

TO THE NEXT PAGE!

PROBABLY THE HEAVIEST PAGE OF THEM ALL

“I already told you the person you’re looking for doesn’t exist anymore.” Not died, “doesn’t exist anymore.” Specific choice of words!

“Not in a way that’s useful to you.” As in she no longer has her memories, perhaps? That she’s currently a 15 year old?

“And before she left, she told me...” Before she LEFT. Not died! LEFT!

“That she didn’t want her past to haunt her anymore.” THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT IN HINT FIVE.

“She started over.” BAM. PROBABLY THE CORNERSTONE OF THIS THEORY. Combine these three words with the rest of the theory, and you get the conclusion that “starting over” means something along the lines of reincarnation. But I’ll get to the reincarnation bit later.

SO THATS ALL UP TO WHERE THE COMIC IS RIGHT NOW! BUT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE REREAD?

HINT FOUR: FENIC AS A NAME

Now this one is a little shorter but in the prologue we see Fenic name herself for the first time.

After being called a lady, she sorta panics as, like, what’s she gonna do, give her a boy’s name when she’s a girl and just been called that? And her first instinct is to go with her mother’s name. Like, sure, maybe it’s because she think’s “girl’s name go” and the girl/woman/female closest to her is her mom. But I like to think it’s an instinct to keep the same name. It could be read either way, but I feel like it was worth mentioning.

ALONG WITH A BONUS THEORY. The Lost Princess is trans. I’ve been thinking about how The Lost Princess would restart, and seeing how the maave is the same, the body is likely the same as well, implying a restart like that of a phoenix. Sorta. Meaning that the AGAB is the same. Maybe Asher didn’t know if restarting life would retain trans-ness or w/e OR he didn’t know The Lost Princess was trans. Either way he went with AGAB, clearly. I like to think that The Lost Princess spent a lot of time thinking about her name so it’s really ingrained in her so that it’s an instinct to be called Fenic :]

HINT FIVE: WHY?

So. That mystery chapter huh? Here’s a proposal- who we see is The Lost Princess.

Think about it, the person we see doesn’t have horns or some sort of tail or animal ears, eliminating someone who is purely Shade or Wildren. This leaves Fenic, The Dead Princess, or The Lost Princess, all born of both species. The hair doesn’t match The Dead Princess’s hair, so that eliminates her.

This leaves the Fenics, whose hair DO match, assuming The Lost Princess and Fenic have the same hair texture, which in the frame of what has been discussed, it does.

NOW THIS PAGE

Feels like a reason to be reborn to me.

Granted, this chapter, LITERALLY TITLED “premonition” and the names at the beginning could EASILY be shortened for Clairissa and Enae, who would’ve been only babies or unborn when The Lost Princess was around. This is VERY likely in the future, with Fenic. But I only realized this after I started referring to it earlier in the post, so no going back.

But maybe it’s salvageable. Maybe Fenic is having the same thoughts as The Lost Princess. The Lost Princess, as stated in hint three, didn’t want the past to haunt her anymore. So she chose to forget in a new life, reborn.

Maybe Fenic is thinking about following in her mother’s footsteps.

This premonition chapter, along with the whole other conspiracy board of “What’s up with Salin (The Dead Princess) and Tahmonai?”, have me very concerned for the future.

Afterword

Thank you so much for getting this far ;w; I hope and pray that I made literally any sense. As I was collecting pages to put in here, I noticed that this is quite a common theory if the comment section of the pages is anything to go by. I thought so too before all this, so I didn’t really want to put the effort into a post, but Virgo encouraged me to make it anyway sooooo

Either way, this can still work as a collection of evidence, and an archive on our, or at least my, thoughts on “What’s up with the Fenics” question! Hopefully later down the line we can look at this and be like, “called it!” or, “honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

I could go on about the implications of this theory, but that’s another post of this length tbhhhhhhhhh and also its uh. 12am LOL.

Please reblog this to spread the theory! Even if it’s common, spread it to convince people to read gth? :pleading: I spent like. 2-3 hours on this to try to get my wording right and cohesive, which is really hard for me as I’m very much more an artist than a writer haaaaaaaaa

Thank you so much for reading again! Good morning, good afternoon, good night <3

#goodbye to halos #gth #noki's life story #please stan me oml i did this in one sitting #now im going to eat iced creme sanded wich and sleep #this is for u virgo hope u enjoy #long post

16 notes · View notes

deannawads · 6 years

Text

Meet Michael from MURDER MOST LOVELY, a book co-written by Hank Edwards & ME!

I’m so excited to officially announce that Hank Edwards and I wrote a book together!!!

It will be coming out early next year! It’s entitled:

MURDER MOST LOVELY

Lacetown Murder Mysteries: Case One

It’s weird and awesome how things turn out sometimes, and when you least expect it. I’m so happy that I’ve had the chance to go on this fabulous journey with the super talented Hank Edwards. Writing with him has been so effortless that it’s a bit surreal. Our styles mesh so well, sometimes I can’t remember which of us wrote what sentence LOL

It all started on February 3, 2018 at 9:26 PM, I sent Hank these DMs on Facebook:

“Full disclosure: I’m drinking tonight lol…..but I think we should write a book together #justsayin”

“It would be EPIC!”

Hank thought it would be epic fun too, though he’d never co-authored a book together. I have, though it still remains unpublished. I’ve long been a fan of Hank’s books and our humor is so similar, I thought it seemed like a grand idea to co-write something together.

And it wasn’t just the whisky talking LOL.

We both belong to the Michigan LGBTQ Writers—though I’m the Michigan-born Ohio-raised exception in the group, and we see each other often at local Pride events. We always have a ton of fun when we are together, so I assumed we would easily be able to write together.

But what to write?

That it would be a gay romance was a no-brainer, but the sub-genres were endless. We’ve both written YA, historical, contemporary and paranormal, so our options were broad to say the least. I suggested even writing a book based off Billy Joel’s song Uptown Girl and calling to Uptown Boy, LOL

Through a few more chats, Hank had this pearl:

“I think, just knowing our writing styles, we could write the ever-loving fuck out of a contemporary rom-com. What do you think?”

Well, I totally agreed!

So with a genre decided, we needed a game plan. Thinking we should come up with a central setting, I spewed off a laundry list of settings—gay bar, funeral parlor, casino, a sexy house cleaning service with happy endings, a real comic book super hero. Hank narrowed it down and I loved the idea!

“Hello! And I like the idea of a central setting. Would be awesome if it became a series. I like your suggestions, and I think the beauty salon idea is great since you’ve got some really good knowledge about that area. I know nothing about it, but funeral parlor really jumped out at me and made me laugh. What about a beauty salon AND a funeral home in a small Midwest town, like OH or MI? Like, would someone from the beauty shop be hired to work on the bodies at the local funeral home?”

And so MURDER MOST LOVELY was born….

We have had a blast writing our Lacetown Murder Mysteries that we would like to involve you in a part of our writing process. With our setting decided, we needed to create our mortician and our hairdresser. I thought it would be good if we each just created one character then we put them together and see what happens. Though my day job is a cosmetologist, Hank created our hairdresser hero and I happily made up the mortician.

It was so much fun making up a character then sending it off to Hank as I excitedly waited to see whom he had created. It was almost like I was a matchmaker for my character but I had no idea who Hank was sending on his blind date!

Meet Michael Fleishman, age 42

Michael is a mortician who runs the Fleishman Funeral Parlor in Lacetown, Michigan, and he has been the county coroner for 13 years. He is quiet and awkward Jewish man, and he doesn’t date a lot or have many fiends besides his gregarious grandpa who still calls him Mikey, and his fat black-and-white tabby cat Mr. Pickles Furryton the Third—the latter goes with him to the funeral parlor every day.

I envisioned Michael looking like a geeky version of Luke Wilson, but with glasses. He is fastidious in his attire, and always polite yet very reserved. He’s awkward in his own skin, but as we all know, still waters run deep. That’s why I made Michael a Virgo, the most uptight of all horoscope signs IMO, but also the biggest freak between the sheets. Which you can imagine, led to some fun options for our—at the time—unwritten MSS.

Michael is an avid mystery reader and often fantasizes about solving a mystery like his favorite fictional character Brock Hammer. Not that such a thing would ever happen in the sleepy Lake Michigan village of Lacetown. The most exciting case Michael’s ever been called on to work was when Mrs. Briarwood caught her husband in bed with Abigail Smithers from the Marathon Station, and shot him with a crossbow in the scrotum.

Please enjoy the first half of chapter one of MURDER MOST LOVELY—Lacetown Murder Mysteries Case One. For the second half of the chapter and a chance to learn how Hank created Michael’s soon-to-be paramour visit this link: https://www.hankedwardsbooks.com/2018/10/06/murder-most-lovely/

Murder Most Lovely

Lacetown Murder Mysteries: Case One

Chapter One

Mr. Pickles will be so excited when I get home, Michael Fleishman thought.

Well, he wasn’t really sure if the taciturn cat would care if he had ten of his Brock Hammer novels signed by the author, but Michael would be excited.

He parked his tan Camry in the last available angled parking space on Main Street, unable to believe his luck finding a place to park. He ordinarily would’ve walked, living so close, but he wouldn’t risk getting any of his paperbacks or the two hardcovers wet in the rain.

Lacetown was crowded for the Great Lakes Literary Fest. Today was the first day of the three day festival, and sadly the tail end of a late-spring storm front. The festival kicked off the busy tourist season for their lakeside village and, despite the rain, the streets were busy with fans and visitors hunched under umbrellas visiting all the authors at the afternoon signing event. The lesser-known authors were trying to stay dry under tents in the town square, but most of the big name authors had been moved indoors for their signings, the bars and restaurants serving as makeshift bookstores.

And in Michael’s mind, there weren’t many big names in fiction that he wanted to meet more than Russell Withingham.

He’d checked the festival website before leaving the house and knew Mr. Withingham would be inside Kelsey’s Bar & Grill. There was a small line forming outside already so Michael grabbed his bag of books and his umbrella, and then hurried to join them.

A woman he didn’t recognize in line in front of him smiled and he nodded politely. There were always strange faces in their little Lake Michigan lakeside town during the summer. Tourists mostly, and this weekend literary fans.

The crashing sound of waves drew Michael’s attention behind him. Main Street ended at Route 412 and on the other side a boardwalk overlooking their unswimmable portion of Lake Michigan. Large waves crested, crashing in places over the spacious boardwalk stretching the length of town. He spied a few unfortunate tourists who didn’t have the wherewithal to see the obvious safety hazard of being out there when the lake was unhappy.

Hoping no one would be hurt, he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and tried to keep his umbrella from poking the lady’s in front of him. Fleishman Funeral Home only had gigantic golf umbrellas for services, and he was glad for it when the rain picked up and a gust blew mist onto his glasses. He shoved them in his front shirt pocket, knowing there would be no use keeping them clean until he was inside.

“Shit, I thought this rain was supposed to let up this afternoon,” a deep masculine voice from behind Michael said.

Michael turned and drew up short.

“Whoa there, pal, you could take an eye out with that thing.”

For a heartbeat Michael froze and just stared.

The man in line behind him had a long face and wheat colored hair swept back from a low brow and into a ponytail. Eyes the color of cognac had just enough sparkle to make Michael smile and conjure thoughts of mischief and long summer romances.

And you’re staring at him like a ninny!

Michael hastily stepped back so as to not poke the gorgeous man in the eye with his umbrella. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, watch it,” the lady in front of him snapped. “You’re soaking me!”

Michael jumped when he realized his big umbrella had slipped beneath hers and was funneling water right onto her.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” he said at once, stepping back the other way.

“Whoa, whoa,” ponytail guy said again, reaching up to take hold of the eye-level pin on Michael’s umbrella. “How about I just join you?” And then he stepped under the huge umbrella with Michael.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Michael managed, squirming a little. “There’s plenty of room.”

The man used both hands to brush a few wayward strands of blond hair off his face, his tanned skin glistening from the rain. He wore a ring on a long well-manicured index finger. Smiling, he held out a hand. “I’m Jazz Dilworth.”

What a strange name. Sounds like something in a mystery novel.

He quickly shook the proffered hand. “Michael Fleishman.”

Jazz flipped a thumb behind him. “I work across the street at Misty’s Makeover Palace.” He furrowed tidy brows. “Fleishman, like the funeral parlor?”

“Eew,” the lady in front of him said with a distinct Valley Girl attitude.

Michael maintained his polite mortician smile. Sadly, he was used to the reaction.

Hence his lackluster love life.

Expecting Jazz to make some equally grossed out remark and leave the safety of the umbrella, Michael looked back at him.

But Jazz was smiling, his white teeth radiant and even. “That explains the planet-sized umbrella. Only ever see those at funerals and on golf courses.”

Michael’s facial muscles softened, and the smile he gave Jazz was more genuine, relaxed. “Yeah, they come in handy.”

Jazz grinned, “I bet they do.”

This man was gorgeous. He had to be younger than Michael. But more importantly, he had the potential for being gay since he was a hairdresser. Well aware of his stereotyping, Michael was nonetheless hopeful.

Michael wasn’t the best flirt, but sharing an umbrella with an attractive man in front of a bar acting as a makeshift bookstore felt like the opening of a rom-com, so he was ready to give it the ol’ college try.

“Are you a fan of the Brock Hammer novels too?” he asked, glad his glasses were in his pocket. Jazz stood so close Michael didn’t even need them to clearly see his handsome face.

Jazz scoffed. “Used to be.”

“Oh.” Michael’s heart fell. So much for common interests. “Did you know this line is to meet him?”

“I know, all right. The fucker’s been ducking my calls for weeks.”

Michael flinched at the man’s crass remark. “You know Russell Withingham?”

“Married to him,” Jazz said. “Separated.”

So he is gay… Michael shook his head. “Wait, what?”

Those warm brown eyes met his, and Jazz smiled. “Separated,” he said again. “Permanently. He’s supposed to still be making my car payment, and I just got a call from the bank. He hasn’t made the last two payments.”

Michael didn’t know if he was more disappointed to find out his favorite author was a jerk, or excited to know the man under his umbrella was gay and single.

Well, possibly single.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Michael offered.

Jazz shrugged. “Nothing for you to be sorry for,” he quipped. “In fact, I should be thanking you for sharing your umbrella with me. Nothing worse than running into an ex with your hair all soaking wet, looking like a hot mess. I wanna look good when I tell him off. You know, make him regret losing me.”

Michael couldn’t help his involuntary head-to-toe sweep of Jazz’s solid body. Any man who would give up all that hunkiness had to be nuts.

Oh the things Michael would do with him if he could. I’d drip hot candle wax on each of his nipples while I rode….

Awkward, Michael cleared his throat when he realized Jazz was staring right at him. Michael’s face heated. Thankfully the guy couldn’t read his thoughts. “I’m sure he’ll regret it. You look great.”

Jazz’s grin widened and he tugged a little on the vest he wore over a white V-neck T-shirt. “Thanks.”

Still feeling warm in the face—among other places now—Michael smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

“I used to love Russell’s books. Was totally a fan girl.” Jazz leaned in and spoke softly. “The first dozen were great, now they’re crap, if you don’t mind my saying.”

While Jazz was only whispering closely so the other fans might not hear, Michael relished his nearness. “Yeah, that’s why I only brought the first ten to get signed.”

“Ten?” Jazz’s brows shot up.

He worried his upper lip. “Is that too many?”

Jazz laughed, a free, easy sound. “Oh, Russ will be thrilled. Trust me.”

Granted Russell Withingham might be a bad husband, but Michael loved his books and didn’t want to annoy the man.

Looking for something to discuss besides Jazz’s ex, Michael said, “Your boss Misty does work for me sometimes. She took care of one of my clients for her funeral yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She doesn’t like it,” Michael confessed.

“I know,” Jazz agreed. “I heard all about it.”

“You did?” He had no idea Misty disliked styling his clients so much that she might be complaining about it.

“Yeah, creeps her out,” Jazz said. “I don’t know why. You stay in this business long enough, eventually you get a call to give a client their last doo. I don’t know where they’re going in the next life, but I’ll be damned if any of my clients get to the other side with their hair a wreck.”

“You’ve cared for the deceased before?” Michael asked, pleasantly surprised. Most people were freaked out by what he did for a living. Running the largest funeral parlor in the county, and being appointed County Coroner, should have brought him prestige and respectability, and he supposed it did in some circles. But working with dead people left most folks unsettled, rather than endearing anyone to him.

“Sure,” Jazz said with a casual shrug. “I don’t see the big deal.”

Grinning wide, Michael fished in his pocket for the leather business card holder he never left the house without. He flipped it open and withdrew a card. “If you’d like some extra work, I’d love to have you.” He heard how that sounded, and quickly added, “Um, have you do some styling for me. I mean, for my clients.”

Jazz smiled as he took the card. “I know what you meant. And Misty will be thrilled.” Then he dug in his front pocket, the jeans just tight enough in all the right places, that when his hand filled the denim it accentuated his nice package. “Here’s my card. You can get my references from Misty, if you want.”

Michael was still smiling as he took the card and carefully placed it into his card holder. “I’m sure that you’re more than qualified. You said you’ve been in the business a while.”

“Knocking on thirty years.”

Michael scoffed. “Did you start in preschool?”

“Hardly,” Jazz laughed. “A good hair colorist and access to the finest beauty products all culminate for the perfect illusion.” He leaned in. “I’m forty-one.”

“Me too,” Michael said. “But you don’t look a day over thirty-one.”

Jazz put his hand on his chest. “Oh, you flatter me.”

The line inched closer to the door.

“Jazz, is that a nickname?”

“Short for Jasper. I can be a little jazzy, and I love music, so there you go. But I can’t play or read music.”

“Me neither. No artistic talent whatsoever.”

Jazz frowned. “Your work has a bit of art to it.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m rubbish with the hair. That’s why I need Misty for my female clients.”

“Good thing you met me today.”

Now he was grinning like a fool, but he couldn’t help it. “Yes. Good thing.”

Far too soon for Michael’s liking, they reached the door and stepped inside. He had to close and shake off his umbrella, which sadly ended whatever private and possibly flirtatious moment he’d been sharing with the gorgeous Jazz.

Jazz scanned the bar, jaw set.

Helping him out, Michael pointed to the back corner, where a middle-aged man with thinning blond hair, a black velour blazer, and burgundy ascot sat behind a table with mounds of books. “He’s over there.”

“Thanks,” Jazz said, his shoulders relaxing. He gestured to Michael’s umbrella. “Mind if I hold that till I get up there?”

Michael realized Jazz wanted it to hide from his ex until he got closer. And while not wanting to get involved, Michael liked the idea of having a chance to spend more time conversing.

Jazz held the umbrella over one shoulder and turned so it blocked his profile from Russell’s view. Michael stood behind Jazz and watched as drops of rain ran down the side of his neck. He longed to let his tongue follow the rain down beneath the neck of Jazz’s T-shirt. But that wasn’t something he did, and not only because he was a Lacetown business owner. He needed to work on relaxing and letting go of his inhibitions. At least that’s what all his exes had told him. One even went so far as saying Michael’s clients had more warmth than him.

Ouch.

“So you’ve lived here all your life?”

Michael blinked. “What? Oh. Here in Lacetown?”

Jazz grinned. “No, here in the bar.”

A blush heated Michael’s cheeks. “Sorry. I was woolgathering.”

“I like that.”

“What?”

“Woolgathering. It’s not used that often anymore. I like it.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you. And, yes, I was born and raised here.” Michael cleared his throat and looked away, then back. The bag of books suddenly seemed very heavy, and he switched shoulders. Jazz held his gaze, warm brown eyes locked onto Michael’s.

“So what happened between you two?” The words were out before Michael could run them through his mental filter to see if they were appropriate.

Jazz’s forehead furrowed. “Me and Russell?”

Panic zinged through Michael. “I’m sorry. That was a very personal question, and we just met. Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jazz took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Russell likes his side dishes.”

“Side dishes?” Candied yams popped into Michael’s mind.

“You know.” Jazz glanced at the woman in front of them who seemed to be leaning back and listening. He moved fast, putting a hand on her shoulder and easing her forward and away from them as he said, “Careful there. Looked like you were about to tip over. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself before you get to meet Russell Withingham.”

“Oh, no… I wasn’t… I wouldn’t…” The woman’s cheeks flushed and she took a step forward.

“There you go.” Jazz turned back to Michael with a grin. “Where was I?”

READ THE REST OF THE CHAPTER HERE: https://www.hankedwardsbooks.com/2018/10/06/murder-most-lovely/

Then scroll down to win two ebooks!

Make sure you enter our Raffelcopter giveaway below for a chance to win a copy of my 1Night Stand book TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE and Hank’s mobster story HIRED MUSCLE

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Chapter One

Mr. Pickles will be so excited when I get home, Michael Fleishman thought.

Well, he wasn’t really sure if the taciturn cat would care if he had ten of his Brock Hammer novels signed by the author, but Michael would be excited.

And in Michael’s mind, there weren’t many big names in fiction that he wanted to meet more than Russell Withingham.

“Shit, I thought this rain was supposed to let up this afternoon,” a deep masculine voice from behind Michael said.

Michael turned and drew up short.

“Whoa there, pal, you could take an eye out with that thing.”

For a heartbeat Michael froze and just stared.

And you’re staring at him like a ninny!

Michael hastily stepped back so as to not poke the gorgeous man in the eye with his umbrella. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, watch it,” the lady in front of him snapped. “You’re soaking me!”

Michael jumped when he realized his big umbrella had slipped beneath hers and was funneling water right onto her.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” he said at once, stepping back the other way.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Michael managed, squirming a little. “There’s plenty of room.��

What a strange name. Sounds like something in a mystery novel.

He quickly shook the proffered hand. “Michael Fleishman.”

Jazz flipped a thumb behind him. “I work across the street at Misty’s Makeover Palace.” He furrowed tidy brows. “Fleishman, like the funeral parlor?”

“Eew,” the lady in front of him said with a distinct Valley Girl attitude.

Michael maintained his polite mortician smile. Sadly, he was used to the reaction.

Hence his lackluster love life.

Expecting Jazz to make some equally grossed out remark and leave the safety of the umbrella, Michael looked back at him.

But Jazz was smiling, his white teeth radiant and even. “That explains the planet-sized umbrella. Only ever see those at funerals and on golf courses.”

Michael’s facial muscles softened, and the smile he gave Jazz was more genuine, relaxed. “Yeah, they come in handy.”

Jazz grinned, “I bet they do.”

“Are you a fan of the Brock Hammer novels too?” he asked, glad his glasses were in his pocket. Jazz stood so close Michael didn’t even need them to clearly see his handsome face.

Jazz scoffed. “Used to be.”

“Oh.” Michael’s heart fell. So much for common interests. “Did you know this line is to meet him?”

“I know, all right. The fucker’s been ducking my calls for weeks.”

Michael flinched at the man’s crass remark. “You know Russell Withingham?”

“Married to him,” Jazz said. “Separated.”

So he is gay… Michael shook his head. “Wait, what?”

Michael didn’t know if he was more disappointed to find out his favorite author was a jerk, or excited to know the man under his umbrella was gay and single.

Well, possibly single.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Michael offered.

Michael couldn’t help his involuntary head-to-toe sweep of Jazz’s solid body. Any man who would give up all that hunkiness had to be nuts.

Oh the things Michael would do with him if he could. I’d drip hot candle wax on each of his nipples while I rode….

Jazz’s grin widened and he tugged a little on the vest he wore over a white V-neck T-shirt. “Thanks.”

Still feeling warm in the face—among other places now—Michael smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

“I used to love Russell’s books. Was totally a fan girl.” Jazz leaned in and spoke softly. “The first dozen were great, now they’re crap, if you don’t mind my saying.”

While Jazz was only whispering closely so the other fans might not hear, Michael relished his nearness. “Yeah, that’s why I only brought the first ten to get signed.”

“Ten?” Jazz’s brows shot up.

He worried his upper lip. “Is that too many?”

Jazz laughed, a free, easy sound. “Oh, Russ will be thrilled. Trust me.”

Granted Russell Withingham might be a bad husband, but Michael loved his books and didn’t want to annoy the man.

Looking for something to discuss besides Jazz’s ex, Michael said, “Your boss Misty does work for me sometimes. She took care of one of my clients for her funeral yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She doesn’t like it,” Michael confessed.

“I know,” Jazz agreed. “I heard all about it.”

“You did?” He had no idea Misty disliked styling his clients so much that she might be complaining about it.

“Sure,” Jazz said with a casual shrug. “I don’t see the big deal.”

Michael was still smiling as he took the card and carefully placed it into his card holder. “I’m sure that you’re more than qualified. You said you’ve been in the business a while.”

“Knocking on thirty years.”

Michael scoffed. “Did you start in preschool?”

“Hardly,” Jazz laughed. “A good hair colorist and access to the finest beauty products all culminate for the perfect illusion.” He leaned in. “I’m forty-one.”

“Me too,” Michael said. “But you don’t look a day over thirty-one.”

Jazz put his hand on his chest. “Oh, you flatter me.”

The line inched closer to the door.

“Jazz, is that a nickname?”

“Short for Jasper. I can be a little jazzy, and I love music, so there you go. But I can’t play or read music.”

“Me neither. No artistic talent whatsoever.”

Jazz frowned. “Your work has a bit of art to it.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m rubbish with the hair. That’s why I need Misty for my female clients.”

“Good thing you met me today.”

Now he was grinning like a fool, but he couldn’t help it. “Yes. Good thing.”

Jazz scanned the bar, jaw set.

“Thanks,” Jazz said, his shoulders relaxing. He gestured to Michael’s umbrella. “Mind if I hold that till I get up there?”

Michael realized Jazz wanted it to hide from his ex until he got closer. And while not wanting to get involved, Michael liked the idea of having a chance to spend more time conversing.

Ouch.

“So you’ve lived here all your life?”

Michael blinked. “What? Oh. Here in Lacetown?”

Jazz grinned. “No, here in the bar.”

A blush heated Michael’s cheeks. “Sorry. I was woolgathering.”

“I like that.”

“What?”

“Woolgathering. It’s not used that often anymore. I like it.”

“So what happened between you two?” The words were out before Michael could run them through his mental filter to see if they were appropriate.

Jazz’s forehead furrowed. “Me and Russell?”

Panic zinged through Michael. “I’m sorry. That was a very personal question, and we just met. Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jazz took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Russell likes his side dishes.”

“Side dishes?” Candied yams popped into Michael’s mind.

“Oh, no… I wasn’t… I wouldn’t…” The woman’s cheeks flushed and she took a step forward.

“There you go.” Jazz turned back to Michael with a grin. “Where was I?”

****To read the rest of the chapter and learn more about Jazz, go to HankEdwardsBooks.com****

a Rafflecopter giveaway

from Meet Michael from MURDER MOST LOVELY, a book co-written by Hank Edwards & ME!

#Meet Michael from MURDER MOST LOVELY #a book co-written by Hank Edwards & ME! Deanna Wadsworth

0 notes

italicwatches · 6 years

Text

Comic Girls - Episode 04

Anime time is now. It’s Comic Girls, episode 04! Here we GO!

-It is night, it is raining. Koyume is out like a light with particularly few fucks to give, when Kaos…Well I’m assuming she has to go take a piss, but the important thing is she finds Ruki still working and pulling an all-nighter. The next morning, every…one’s…up? Well, three of our four are sparky and spunky. Ruki, despite Kaos’s thirst, is looking more like she just ran a marathon with a hangover. Also Kaos said the quiet things loud again.

-Opening!

-To school! Where Ruki is…Oh, dear, she is not looking good. Apparently she pulled two all nighters, in a row. I’m assuming she had to get some sleep in there somewhere, because I’ve seen people on their third day and that’s usually when the hallucinations start…But I’m also assuming it was nowhere near enough sleep. And then she gets summoned to translate the line on the board, ‘Can I come over to your house tonight’. Which, sleepy Ruki says in a way that literally all of the girls in class suddenly have lilies blooming. Literally. All of them.

-Kaos is right. That is terrifying power.

-Gym class. Sleepy Ruki is tying up her hair and her sleepy eyes are looking like bedroom eyes and Ruki please stop turning your classmates gay. It’s causing a ruckus.

-…God dammit Ruki. Just…God dammit, Ruki. She refused to go home, went on the run for gym class, collapsed onto another girl, it looks really lewd, everyone’s staring and blushing, what did I just say about a ruckus. Even the teacher is calling her out for this, and Kaos can’t stop staring. Even Tsubasa is starting to think she needs to go fucking sleep. And I’m starting to think my assumption that she couldn’t possibly be on her third day without any sleep was…incorrect.

-But Ruki has all of this fucking pride wrapped up in refusing to Give In and oh my god go to bed. I’m not even going to touch her deeply erroneous belief that she’s not suited to lewd manga because I mean come on.

-Okay, lunch time. Eat a little food, then lay your head in Koyume’s lap and sleeeeeep. Even a little cat nap. One problem: Ruki can’t sleep without her favorite plushy. That is ADORABLE. But okay, how do they get he—

-Here hold this Kaos. It’s basically the same thing. …And holy shit it works as Ruki just falls right asleep.

-Back to the dorm! Ruki has enough sleep to at least pretend to be a human being and not some malfunctioning lesbianism-field-generator, and is grinding away at her manuscript…When Koyume and Kaos come to offer to help! Oh god no. No you can’t see. Don’t look at her porn drawings! Woman your work is sold in bookstores all across the country. …OH GOD YOU’RE RIGHT SHE HAS TO GO BUY THEM AND HIDE THEM AWAY

-So eventually they drag her back to her desk, and…Well, okay, real talk, if you’re that ashamed of anyone seeing your work, why are you here in this dorm? Because if her parents saw this they’d disown her. Her grandmother would die from shock! Sure there’s a certain thrill in getting away with something secret and terrible right under her family’s nose, but…Ruki now you’re saying the quiet parts loud.

-But, finally, they convince her to let them help because the other option is she literally dies from overwork at like 15. Okay. Okay here’s a page to work o—

-Koyume and Kaos can’t take it. It’s too sexy. The dialogue is so intense! Then work on these pages that are only sound effects. They are only sound effects because they are sex scenes. Please stop with the comedy reactions!

-And fine. FINE. Tsubasa gets…MEDIUM SERIOUS. She’s got on her core cosplay clothes but not the cape or eyepatch. Give her that manuscript, she’ll screen tone that dude’s dick right the fuck now! Please be at least a little embarrassed. (NO. WHICH TONE DO YOU USE ON DICKS? THE POLKA DOTS OR THE STRIPES)

-But as they work, that’s when Tsubasa notices that the protagonist looks a little like Koyume. Well, Ruki uses her as a reference model so often, some of her traits just kind of leak in…And then Koyume realizes what Tsubasa is looking at and has a panic. So that’s how she ends up having to work on the pages so her manga counterpart isn’t exposed to Tsubasa-sama…When she realizes there’s a really touching, sexy love story inside this perverse sex manga! Yes, you get it! You understand!

-Meanwhile Kaos can barely work because she’s…

-Ohhhh dear. Kaos is peering at the pages through her fingers and breathing hard. What has Ruki done to this innocent concept of a future child her parents might have one day?! I’m running out of ways to infantilize Kaos in Ruki’s mind, guys, and it’s only episode four. KAOS JUST COLOR THIS BUNNY DON’T LOOK AT THE NAUGHTY. And Tsubasa finally goes past silly SERIOUS and into full legit frustration.

-Ruki! Back to your fucking desk! Kaos! Tighten up and work you can jill off to it when it’s done! And Kaos fainted at a sex page. Great. Just…Just great.

-Eventually everyone is playing ball. Well, three of them. Kaos is going down into Despair territory, because not only is she struggling with The Sex, she is struggling with the analog tools. If she just could do this on her tab…let…That’s a computer box in the corner. Yeah, Ruki bought a computer for color work…

-Except…She’s genuinely terrible with anything more complicated than a phone and hasn’t been able to set it up because she’s never used a computer outside of class. …Please step aside and let Kaos set it up, thank you. And Ruki looks to her for advice, and…Kaos please stop lewding when there’s work to be done. But if they’re going to use this computer to speed up their work, they need more software and a scanner.

-And…Ruki’s…Woooo boy she is bad at this. Guys. Guys. Just let Kaos use the computer tonight and you can learn when you’re not on a deadline and half asleep. And indeed, Kaos just slams out a rapid-fire coloring on a scan of the splash page, complete with full color sparkle effects and god damn smug Kaos. …SO how goes the actual manuscript, ladies? DESPAIR

-New day! Ruki is with her editor, seeing the publishing of the actual tankoban of her first volume, and it’s going wonderfully! Also, they’re doing a big promo push for everything in their magazine, so could you come do an autograph signing?

-Ruki just starts screaming and can’t stop.

-And when she explains her fears back at the dorm, it’s just a lot of fear and panic and guilt…Stop. Stopppp. Your readers are almost entirely horny 20-something women, it’s gonna be fine. Yeah, you’re right, she has nothing to fear EXCEPT EVERYTHING YOU BLUE IDIOT. Those 20-something women will realize she’s a tiny teenage fraud! A bust-size-lying fraud! But that’s just a pen name…right…? Not right. Look at the self portrait she ended up submitting! …Oh.

-Oh dear. So she’s panicking and ends up clinging to Kaos as a soothing charm. Wait, what if they used Kaos as your adorable child in your arms while you signed? Yeah neither of them are down for that. New plan! Koyume, you be Big Boob <3 Himeko! Koyume couldn’t possibly SHE’S IN. Yeah she’s too eager. Much, much too eager.

-But, a stand-in…Who do they know that’s older, mature but still sexy, and knows about Ruki’s work…Landlady? Landlady. Ruki’s got to go to her and beg for help but can’t even get the words out. She’s too damn earnest and kind and wants to make a big celebration dinner with all of Ruki’s favorites.

-So as we montage through the next day, I want to point out a delightful bit of character contrast. Both Tsubasa and Ruki are tired from grinding away at manga. Ruki tries to stay awake in class but nearly fails. Tsubasa just puts on an open-eyes sleeping mask and drops right down onto her notebook with no fucks given.

-And thus they work, and grind, and enjoy the warm days of spring and summer, as everyone’s work slowly improves…And the big autograph day is coming real close. Until finally it’s the night before, and Ruki is fully hooked in at this point, and is out of ideas…As Ruki despairs, Tsubasa’s just silently working, not even responding…And that’s when Ruki remembers something important. Tsubasa’s going by a genderless pseudonym. She’s hiding herself from the world to be able to draw the manga she loves without judgment. And here Ruki was…

-…Tsubasa’s been thinking up new names for the exposed Big Boob <3 Himeko.

-You fucking ridiculous nerd. But she also admits, it’s kind of crazy, you know? Just a couple years ago, they were the ones lining up to get books signed, and now…Well, just remember how it felt back then. And you’ll be fine. Go get some rest for tomorrow.

-Big day. Ruki carefully gets ready, even as she tries to figure out what to do with her hair and how to look for this…When the landlady pulls her aside. And with another pair of hands, and a light touch of some makeup in just the right places, she transforms Ruki, bringing that touch of maturity that she needs. When it’s all done, she goes from looking 15 to looking 25, and can make this work…!

-Okay, to the actual signing! It is indeed pretty much all girls and women there, and all of them are incredibly nervous but excited, to meet the woman who draws this manga they love so much…! And it’s just an amazing, blazingly bright moment for Ruki, as she even has a young mother there who had to bring her baby to be able to make it. That’s how important Himeko-sensei…No, Himeko-onee-sama’s work is to her! And oh you just said the magic words, because Ruki immediately pops into full onee-sama mode and dammit Ruki what did I say about a ruckus.

-Indeed, what started as just a mere meet-and-greet and manga signing is soon full of tons of advice and kindness and when it’s all said and done, and when it all finally finishes up, Ruki is left with a stack of fan letters and gifts and is just…Moved to raw, genuine tears by the amount of emotion and love felt here today. It’s been a struggle. She’s had to work on healthy days and sick days, when she was grieving and when she was losing out on a normal adolescence. She’s questioned her path countless times, especially after being shunted into erotic manga instead of the cutesy animals she wanted to do…

-But…She made a difference. A real, genuine difference. She changed people’s lives for the better. She didn’t just stumble into a place she didn’t want to be in…She landed exactly where she needed to be! …Oh god the afternoon guests are coming panic

-Credits!

Good for you, Big Boob <3 Himeko! Ruki’s found herself, and found the real core answer to why she keeps pushing forward…Which suggests we’ll be asking that question of our other girls soon. Who might come up next? Probably not Kaos, since I imagine her arc will fill the show, so it’s got to be one of the others…Perhaps Koyume? Well, we’ll find out next time, in episode FIVE of Comic Girls! Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #anime #comic girls

0 notes

bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ bonus 2020-02-01

bladekindeyewear:

Boy that sure is a new HS^2 bonus I should blogread. And there was a commentary on the Patreon for the last proper upd8 too.

I’ll… do it sometime this weekend, not right away. (Had a stomach virus through Monday and Tuesday that’s left me pretty fucked over and still waiting for the aftereffects to flee.)

Alright, taking a crack at both of these now. (Both light on images and quoting, since it’s all Patreon material.) So what’s going on here? Are the bonus chapters splitting into separate stories perhaps, following the lecture in one and the PS^2 crew in another? Also, from the replies on the previous:

gaaraofsburbia said: It was very good and I was very happy

Good to know. Time to read, bonus first! *clicks link*

...the title of a book someone’s holding. Bookmarked (with a red flag?). Uh huh. Good start.

> ==>

“A picture book for young parliamentarians.) ...oh wow, it’s Carapacian even. Did the Mayor have anything to do with this book?

--Wait. Waitwaitwait. This isn’t-- the authors wouldn’t go back in time and show us like-- PM and the Mayor trying to start the-- nooo.

> ==>

Oh shit, never mind. This is a book ABOUT the Mayor. Starting from him farming on Skaia and continuing from there with a focus on societal structures presumably. So, sort of like what I just said but not quite as goddamn heartwrenching, most likely.

You know, this WOULD have been a good opportunity for the authors to finally bring some canon awareness to all the rampant Breath and Blood visual-and-textual symbolism around WV and PM’s arcs, giving people some HINT of their potential importance outside some crazy unproven blog post on some crazy wrong person’s blog. But I’m not really convinced Andrew or his new replacements, er... y’know. Care. About letting us know about all that cool shit. Or even dissuading us if we were somehow wrong. Just gonna... let us haaaang in the breeeze there forever, more likely. :T

...this is still what I’m most bitter about regarding the end of Homestuck, as you can obviously tell. Thinking -- still believing -- that we found something beautiful and deliberate he’d done, but refusing to have canon openly acknowledge any of it so that 99% of readers will never have a clue about it and the few of us who caught on -- if right -- are just regarded as nutters, and if wrong, NEVER have what we need to finally disprove and accept that wrongness thanks to his silence, thus continuing to believe wrongly and be regarded as nutters.

So I just keep reading and... vacillating. Vacillating on whether to believe any of this will get brought up in HS^2 canon, or whether to cynically fear they’ll take the worst route: Doing things EXACTLY like Andrew did and dropping only vague hints that keep it an implied-only, unconfirmed mystery forever. Because that’s what made the comic popular! And it’s “safe”. :(

...man, gut issues really bring the pessimist out of you, don’t they. Let’s keep reading. Once upon a time there was a simple farmer...

> ==>

Horrible kings kept fighting and didn’t care about the land, destroying it underneath their war. Right. (Mostly paraphrasing here and from now, mind you.)

> ==>

WV wanted to stop the kings, but the kings had power.

> ==>

That power had to be destroyed too. (Shows the rings.)

> ==>

Hm, the journey that ends up in the rings’ destruction to the desert? Are we going to fill in some context here?

> ==>

--And made friends with curious creatures and powerful people! (Showing the fake Can Town built with Dave and Karkat along the meteor trip.)

Assumedly internalizing all those practice-town lessons, of course.

> ==>

--Oh, cool! So one of the first things WV and PM did upon coming to Earth C to start their founding process was destroy the rings, the temptation of that power, throwing it into the Forge.

EDIT: krixwell said: "I don't know exactly how it reads in the bonus update because I'm not a patron, but WV and PM throwing the rings in the Forge happened before they entered Universe C, and was shown in HS proper (8107-8111, 8123-8126 and at the beginning of [S] Act 7). It was required to light the Forge and send the Genesis Tadpole to Skaia." Ah, file that under more things I forgot about, then.

> ==>

Where once nothing,

> ==>

Earth C was founded/born, etc.

> ==>

Ah okay! So with a backdrop of the Town Hall under construction, we’re getting some context specifically as to how and why the Mayor set up society the way he did on Earth C. Especially the challenging question of who would govern the world and how.

> ==>

Oh shit, text dump! :D

The problem was unfortunately compounded by the fact that when the topic of fair and effective governance is broached, most sparing intellects immediately assume a certain posture. Not one of surrender or admiration, but of abject and interminable boredom.

This fact makes it hard to treat such a fascinating subject with the proper amount of attention and enthusiasm, BUT WE SHALL DO OUR BEST TO UNDERSTAND REGARDLESS.

Alright, loving this.

Also, this’ll undoubtedly put into context just how MUCH the Mayor had to think about how society would work best to have set up -- and how little comparative thought Jane put into the process when just drafting up something United-States-like and familiar. Remember how awful it was the childlike way the Condesce essentially kept trying to recreate her familiar surroundings and rule structure on Earth? It was only natural that her Life-aspected protege would make similar errors, I suppose.

Back to reading this long page... I won’t just quote all the details of this representative system, because that’s up to y’all to pony up for. But I’ll note if there’s anything interesting in it that makes me think. Let’s see...

...Hm! The number of seats each kingdom got in parliament was based on voter turnout... THAT’S a heavy incentive to get out the vote, if your kingdom can literally lose influence if you don’t.

On the happy occasions where the maximum number of seats were allocated in all four quarters, this was known as a "full House".

Oh, fuck you. :)

...oh dear, that was only the beginning of the card slang.

I’m not going to list all of them here. They make sense in context, which is even worse.

Without going into too much detail, consorts all tend to have significantly shorter lifespans than the other citizens of Earth C. Because of this, a large number of House Rules were dedicated to describing exactly what to do if a seat was vacated mid-term due to the death of its occupant.

Not the carapacian kingdom, the consort kingdom. Don’t panic, y’all.

The DELIVERY OF JUSTICE (DoJ) was founded to keep the peace and arbitrate in all legal matters, and its members were the brave soldiers of God in this righteous crusade.

They also took care of the MAIL.

Oooooof course. :)

Unions get their rep, if only for a pun...

Oh, hm. The Mayor’s office is much like a ceremonial-only monarch’s office without serious power. Etc etc...... reading...

So governing Earth C was a complicated affair, and only became more convoluted over time. But the really important thing was that, despite all this complexity, it worked. It really worked. At one point, a whole field of mathematics was developed just to explain why the interim government worked so well, and they ended up proving it categorically. It was theoretically perfect.

Ppfffff

--ah. And then the Mayor has a chill as he looks at the clouds and somehow anticipates something terrible happening to it all.

That’s it for the bonus. I’m guessing the next chapter of this separate bonus story will go over some sort of threat the system endured, while the Mayor was still alive, possibly? Or cut forward to the creators’ arrival and how that fucked a bunch of stuff up? A sort of demonstration on why the gods who create a universe shouldn’t take charge of those living in it or such? Hm.

Alright, if that’s it for the bonus, let’s see what’s available for Patreon commentary... here we go, just the one for the latest mainline upd8 that I knew had come out.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 3, How Are Your Feelings

Before starting into this, I want to note that I do have SOME ray of hope for more Awake Jade involvement to shine against my previous rant -- because that OTHER callie-controlled younger Jade body is coming, which I’d forgotten about. As soon as the pursuit crew arrives in-system and THAT Jade finally gets there through whatever black-hole-powered teleportation magic she’s using (with Aradia and Robodave), it’ll be completely safe for OUR Jade to be awake and active at will. Theoretically.

So... y’know, that’s nice. Whenever that will happen.

So onto the commentary, we’re starting with that stupid ship.

(I think I actually said something along the lines of, "this is stupid, so we're using it." I know my Homestuck history. For those interested, the ship is modelled after a schooner, and continues the Homestuck tradition of spaceships that look like regular sea-faring vessels, only with additional stuff bolted on. - Pip)

...Yeah, can’t blame you there.

This is Jake’s “second best” ship. It makes me really nervous to think about what the third-best looks like.

Flying booty shorts, most likely.

...yeah, I did notice that latest upd8 playing with colors in a way the comic rarely even did, it was pretty nice. Glad to see they appreciate it too.

...Yep, Karkat getting owned just for the sake of it, there.

First off, Jade’s outfit. It rules. Alt!Callie may have violently forced her consciousness inside of this innocent girl’s brain, but damn these threads are sweet. She’s managed to keep Jade pretty on brand, while throwing in a couple embellishments of her own. That’s what we call “making it work”.

Yes, you’d better WELL fucking acknowledge what you’re doing by keeping Jade in a miserable isolated state for three years. A G A I N.

Nice bit about the casual showing of Dave’s eyes as evidence that Dave’s recovering through some of his old mental blocks.

Dave and Karkat are wearing each other’s shirts, which is traditionally a very gay thing to do. Even more notably perhaps is the fact that Karkat is wearing crimson without a hint of complaint. Again, I doubt this was an intentional move on his part. Just, sometimes you’re coming out of the shower, it’s chilly, and your boyfriend’s shirt fits. Busting through mental blocks should typically come across as whispers to me, rather than shouts.

--Hm, never considered the latter angle.

Karkat is being pretty mean to Possessed Jade. Which sucks, but this situation is incredibly stressful, and Karkat tends to react to stress by being mean. Treating Jade like an irritant allows him to put some distance between himself and the reality that he may have lost another friend.

Guh. That one stung :(

Initially the panel directions here were “everybody pauses to contemplate Dirk fucking Strider”

Mhmm, and you figured it’d be more unsettling to reverse it and remind us that the Prince is aware of all of this too.

Roxy’s heart-shaped sunglasses have become such a thing in the fandom that I kind of can’t imagine him without them at this point, so we decided to make it settled law.

Mhmm, I figured that was how they played it. One of the ways they’re incorporating fandom involvement.

Sometimes I feel like it should be Xam who does these commentaries, since there’s so much incredible shit going on with the art here that I’m really only equipped to comment on with shit like “oh wow, look at these colors. Green and purple huh. Wild. There’s also some light.”

It’s pretty understandable to have the writers take the lead on most commentary as opposed to the artists... normally.

But then you’d have the weird places where they’d have to work together without necessarily giving away their game. Like, all that WV/PM Breath/Blood visual representation I mentioned.

I still don’t know if they’re gonna give away the game on that eventually -- or if Andrew even gave them enough to go on to properly REPLICATE that sort of thing in this official continuation, even though my mind keeps telling me it’d make all sense to -- but if they are thinking about it, I doubt they’ll first show their hand in the commentary.

I love Kanaya’s new outfit.

I understand that sure, but will she be sticking with this outfit through the action though? Looking like a mourning nun?

Kanaya’s nursery story is, of course, The Little Prince, a French fairytale from the 1940’s. It tells the story, rather appropriately, of a young Prince traveling through space looking for something he believes he has lost.

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

I’m not sure why I keep thinking about this quote. Probably some shit that has to do with “themes” or something.

Hinting that once he’s beaten down and likely dying from this stupid exodus plan, at least some part of Dirk may finally realize that any fulfillment and purpose he was looking for with this megalomaniacal nonsense was left behind in the peaceful life he fucking ruined for everyone to do all this. The Heart-blind bastard.

God, Dave is just losing family members left and right, isn’t he? Really makes you think.

Gdi. :(

“Maybe it was naive to think a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society.”

There it is. That’s the whole Epilogue.

And Andrew just had to let us ruin our naivety.

Wow. There really are just a whole lot of feelings in this chapter, aren’t there? It’s very aptly named. And it’s also actually the first part of HS^2 that got drafted; at least the first part that actually made it into the final draft. I wrote it earlier in 2019 when we were still kicking around ideas of what an Epilogue follow-up would actually look like.

Huh. Yeah, I can imagine when writing all this it would make sense to write/use this chapter first, as a knee-jerk reaction.

I do really think Karkat would have been a great president. He would have hated it, but he would have been good at it.

I’m glad the authors are in agreement with everyone else with a brain on this one.

Did you guys know that Karkat still feels immense survivor’s guilt for murderstuck?

Yes. Yes we did.

(Some continued remarks about how Karkat’s self-loathing is like a singularity that draws all blame onto himself in his mind etc.)

Apparently there was a metal gear reference in this second-to-last conversation? Don’t tell me, I don’t care.

Eat the fucking pancakes, dude.

A good place to end the commentary. See y’all when there’s more content!

#Homestuck #hs2 #upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck Commentary #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

10 notes · View notes