100storiesin2020

[100storiesin2020]

Mismatched

Knit, knit, knit. Purl, purl, purl. Round and round she went, fingers moving of their own accord as Mabel’s thoughts drifted back to things she’d rather be forgetting. Knit, knit, knit. Purl, purl, purl. She stopped, sighed. Her stitches were the wrong size, somehow; the sweater was too small now, and she’d have to frog at least a few inches, go back and redo it all. She took out her needles. They were mismatched; that would do it. She pulled on the yarn, unravelling her work as she wound the tail around and around itself, back onto the ball. It was several hours of work lost, but yarn was reusable, and there was no real harm done. She frowned at her mismatched needles, surprised she hadn’t noticed the issue, but then. They were almost right, just not quite. Kind of like her and Dipper, these days.

Her brother sat down next to her, still wearing that pine tree hat even all these years later. They were silent, for awhile, with only the rustling of the yarn.

Her brother, her twin, her supposed-to-match double, sat a few inches taller than her now, shoulders broad and arms strong from his adventures in Gravity Falls this last summer. He’d gone alone while Mabel had attended an art camp; it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but now she wished she’d never taken it. That first summer alone had stood between them ever since, an invisible wall that she could not climb and could not take down. First it had been the summer. Then for their senior year they had been in all different classes. Then Dipper had applied to a prestigious school on the East Coast that Mabel could never hope to get into, while she had committed to the closest community college near Gravity Falls. And it all sat between them, unspoken.

She finished winding her yarn and reached for her needles, frowning. Before she could grab them, though, Dipper’s longer arms beat her to it. He picked them up and looked at them for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out an identical pair of needles. He swapped them around in his hand and held them out to her. She took them back, marveling. He’d found her missing needles, noted the discrepancy, and brought them back to her.

“Dipper, I...” “Mabel, I...” They chuckled awkardly. “You first,” they said simultaneously, and laughed again.

Dipper began. “I’m sorry I’m going to school without you, Mabel.” He looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I know it hurt you that I was going to leave, when we’ve always-”

“I’m sorry too,” Mabel blurted out, interrupting him. “I’m the one who left first and that really wasn’t fair to you.”

“But it was amazing!” Dipper exclaimed. “You couldn’t have ever done that if you’d stayed behind for me!”

“And you’re going to be amazing at school,” Mabel whispered. “I just wish I was going to be there to see it.”

Wordlessly, they scooted together so they could lean on each other. They sat like that for a few minutes, watching the sun set from their back patio. The wall that had seemed so insurmountable before was starting to fade, like a ghost that only had power when it was ignored. The sun went down, the stars grew bright, and soon they both headed to their separate rooms to sleep. Before she did, though, Mabel pulled out her two sets of needles. She picked one smaller needle and one slightly larger needle, and then set to work.

She could still knit beautiful things with mismatched needles. She just needed to work with it, instead of against it.

[100storiesin2020]

Today’s myth: The Blacksmith’s Forge Chapter Rating: Teen/Mature Content warnings: blood, violence, body horror, major character death, claustrophobia, earthquakes. This is a very Grimmdark fairy tale y’all

The story of the Blacksmith who created the Stoneborn that inhabit the world of Deretima

[100storiesin2020]

The Keeper’s Tale, a story told by the Mer people of the Greater Reef civilizations, as recorded in the 298th year of Karbian rule.

Another original myth by yours truly. Rated G, but tw for major character death and some implied illness

[100storiesin2020]

The beginnings of an all original work, by yours truly.

fragments of memory is a series of myths, set in my own original world of Demetima; the stories told around the world in various cultures on how their gods came to be.

Chapter 1: The Fall of the Old Gods: the one myth nearly every culture shares in common.

[100storiesin2020]

I have decided to branch out into the podfic realm, starting with one of my favorite series: It’s Tough To Be A God by A_Plethora_Of_Peters

Title: A Tale To Be Told Fandom: The Mechanisms Rating: G Author: A_Plethora_Of_Peters Podfic Length: 12 min 24 sec Summary:  It was a fact, often forgotten, that The Scientist does in fact answer every prayer asked of her. Even if it was just to say something like, “Yeah sorry, doing that will fuck over everyone, but you can do this instead!” She could always be counted on to answer her prayers.

[100storiesin2020]

Title: A glance Rating: G Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast (Junoverse to be precise) Tags: Found family, collection of drabbles Summary: "I recognize his stare... It's the same look I only saw him cast at Mick and myself... But for a moment he gives me the same look as the rest. I am still his family." What Juno sees when he looks at them all.

A collection of drabbles

[100storiesin2020]

Chapter 7: Ivy, about a month after Landing Chapter rating: G TW: light misogny (not directed at Ivy), stalking Summary:  Ivy sauntered down the streets of Vedenar, hat pulled down against the hot sun. The Palaneum was the largest library on Roshar, with nearly seven hundred thousand books and climbing in number every day. She could spend over a century in there reading, possibly two depending on length and acquisition rate. She just needed to present the entrance fee. And that meant stealing.

[100storiesin2020]

Fandom: The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan Rating: G Ships: Aviendha/Elayne/Min, Aviendha/Elayne/Min/Rand Summary:  Aviendha, Elayne, and Min are happily living the college life. They've been roommates and girlfriends for awhile and have settled into a routine, but when a friend of a friend needs a place to stay, it shakes everything up.

This is my Wheel of Time Holiday Exchange fic for @bi-aviendha! I hope you enjoy it!

[100storiesin2020]

I began The Secret Double Life of Jonathan Sims 6 months ago (to the day!), trying desperately to keep myself sane in a really hellish situation. The love has been overwhelming. It passed 1400 kudos today, what???

Enjoy this final chapter: The Aftermath, Chapter 24, The Last of TSDLOJS and the end of an era for me.

[100storiesin2020]

Mechs on Roshar, Chapter 3!

Summary: The Toy Soldier pushed in yet another log as the flames died low, staying carefully back behind a long branch. Fires were so very cheery, especially with the strange red shapes dancing around this one, but it preferred to look rather than to burn itself. The fire would make it warmer for Jonny and Marius to sleep, too. TS had decided to be on watch duty tonight, not feeling the desire to pretend to sleep. It was too excited about the war, and it knew that Jonny would rest easier if somebody watched his back. Jonny needed to sleep more often, it thought.And so it was that the Toy Soldier was watching very closely when the old man came up to their campfire.

Rated G

[100storiesin2020]

I can finally link this to my page!!!!

I participated in the 2020 AFTG Remix event as a pinch hitter and can I say I was SO excited to write for @justadreamfox!! They write excellent fluff and cute things and I was very excited (and intimidated) by the idea of re-imagining one of their stories.

So, without further ado, I present Neil’s Guide to Stalking Your Neighbor (The Step-By-Step Remix)

Rated Teen for backstory references and also some light knife threatening

[100storiesin2020]

For anyone who may be following my stories: I’m taking on NaNoWriMo this year, so fanfiction will be on hold for the month. (Special apologies to the TSDLoJS followers). I do have a piece for AFTGRemix coming out on the 16th, so go read those!!! It’s a cool event and I’m honored to have participated.

Have a happy Halloween, and an excellent November if at all possible (it’s 2020 🤷)

[100storiesin2020]

Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to belong. A round peg in a round hole. A square peg in a square hole. The world is full of holes, communities, in which I could try to fit. They come in all shapes and sizes; squares, octogons, triangles, stars. There’s something for everybody, they tell me. You’ll find your tribe, they tell me. So I try place after place, community after community, friendship after friendship. This one is too rigid, making it painful to stay in for long. This one is too big, and I fell through the cracks immediately. This one is so close to being right but I have one too many sides to fit in it, and try as I may it just isn’t for me. Will I ever find a home? A place I can sit, surrounded, but feeling like I belong? Or must I accept that I am a one of a kind shape, a polygon of infinite sides, ever changing and even more beautiful because of that?

[100storiesin2020]

More nonsense

The Secret Life of Jonathan Sims, Chapter 23: Sasha Plots

[100storiesin2020]

After a 2 month hiatus, I bring you another chapter of this nonsense

[100storiesin2020]

Into the Black

I had a vivid dream last night in which I lived on a spaceship with my parents and extended family. I was probably 15 or so in my dream, old enough to have responsibility but undeniably still a child. I was given a set of tools and an impossible task - the details were murky, as they tend to be in dreams, but it was something I could not do. It was something that needed done, but I couldn’t do it alone, and yet I was asked to. When I asked for help, it backfired; “Not so high and mighty now, are you?” she jeered. (Whose face did she wear? She was my grandmother and my aunts and my mother all at once.) “Any child should be able to do this on their own, and if you’re going to whine about it you don’t deserve the tools you’ve got.” They took away my nice, complete tool set, and replaced it with a drill and a single screwdriver. I persisted as best as I could. I improvised and built and did my very very best, but once again it wasn’t enough. I failed.

They threw me into the cargo hold with the piece I was trying to fix, tossing in my small tools and a backpack. “If you want to survive, you’ll have to fix it,” my sister jeered. (Whose face did she wear? I have no sister.) They left the door open just a crack, and as the ship prepared to take off my backpack fell out and I lost nearly everything I had. I could not reach it. The door slammed shut and I fell to the floor as the ship took off. “Welome to space,” Jonny d’Ville said with a grin. “It’s not as bad as it seems.” (Where did he come from? He vanished without a trace.) The hold was not heatproof, and I knew I had little time left. I couldn’t fix the thing that would keep me alive, and all I had left was an incomplete space suit made of leather. It would not keep me warm long. I would freeze here if not let out, and there was no door into the rest of the spaceship.

“You’re never going to get out of here,” my grandmother said, her voice ringing through my ears. “If you somehow managed to survive, you’d go insane from the isolation. If you make it that long, anyway. You’ll freeze before long.” I put on the space suit as my great grandmother laughed at me. “What’s your plan, Rosie? Going out into the black, to try to break in a window or something?” Yes, actually, I told my mother. “That will never work,” my aunt replied. “That’s no chance at all.” It isn’t, I replied, but you left me with nothing else. I will not die in this prison you created for me. I will not freeze alone, abandoned, mocked and punished for every request for help. If I am to die, I will do it doing what I have always done - fighting for my own survival. I tightened up the fake spacesuit as best as I could, opened the cargo door, and pushed myself out into the stars.

I woke from the dream, the cold of space becoming the cold of a missing blanket on my bed, my heart not racing as it often does after a nightmare, but my soul full of dread. I’ve been thinking about this dream all day. It terrified me. But what terrified me most is that the emotions were not new to me. I feel alone in this world, and the few times I ask for help I find it thrown back in my face or given to me with a secret poison of mockery and betrayal underneath it. But yet, even in a dream, I’m unwilling to go down without a fight. I’m just here trying to survive, trying to thrive under the crushing weight that is this apocalyptic world, trying to hold up the ship around me as everything tries to collapse into dust. I’m still here. I’m still hanging on. I always will be. 

[100storiesin2020]

For Day 5 and Day 7 of @pynchpromptweek : a Non-Magical Soulmate AU

A JorDeclan Fic

In which Declan finds some happiness, and also Jordan

Rated E for Everyone (or G on AO3)