#but no I hope I'll reach a good chunk of posts I have a lot of challenges to cover

[faceglitchsworld]

My faves interacting with my faves (1/∞)

[idiopath-fic-smile]

i dunno if that counts as a wip, but personally i've been thinking abt the "conversation at the dinner table of enjolras' family" series for years now so i gotta jump on the oppurunity

oh my gosh, sure thing! when i checked my WIP folder, i learned i'd actually already written a second whole installment (and then completely forgotten about it) so i'll post that too, and then my new chunk after it.

first bit is here. throwing this under a cut bc it's not short!

Two

“So,” said Dad as he ladled the first round of Saturday morning pancake batter onto the griddle, “tell us about this boy you’re dating?”

Enjolras consciously steadied his hands, took a sip of green tea to stall, and reminded himself that if the relationship was real, he would have been dying to share everything he knew about the boy in question. With an unpleasant lurch, he realized this was almost nothing. He wasn’t even sure what grade Grantaire was in.

“He’s…great,” said Enjolras, hoping that with any luck, his panic could be read as lovestruck embarrassment.

Mom curled her hands around her coffee cup and leaned in, conspiratorial. “Is he cute?”

Between Friday afternoon and now, Enjolras had dedicated a staggering amount of thought to the situation, but he hadn’t made much forward progress. Any time he tried, his mind tended to get snagged, or caught in loops, or lost on wild tangents like, Did Grantaire really mean it when he said he would be okay kissing for the sake of this pretense? How could he possibly be alright with that? Was he kidding? But it honestly didn’t seem like he was kidding. But how would it even come up?

One of very few conclusions Enjolras had reached: he needed to find a way to lie to his parents as little as possible. The thought of deceiving them on purpose for months already made the pit of his stomach feel heavy.

“Yeah,” he said weakly, “he’s…got cool hair.” This was true, if asinine. “And um, a good smile. A really good smile.” Also true, although Enjolras mostly saw it either accompanied by a lot of sarcasm or directed at other people.

“So.” Dad craned around to face him, spatula in hand. “Good at smiling. What else?”

Really, Enjolras thought, he should have been able to anticipate this. He could’ve drawn up his talking points beforehand, like he had with the detention. Set aside the time to brainstorm something better than ‘cool hair,’ for crying out loud. He wondered what Grantaire himself would’ve thought of this conversation, the face Grantaire would’ve pulled at Enjolras’s ludicrous attempts to sound like a person with a boyfriend.

Come to think of it, he wondered what Grantaire was telling his own parents about the whole affair. Maybe nothing. Probably nothing. Grantaire didn’t strike him as the kind of kid to spend weekends bonding with his family. Besides, given the demographics of the area, it was unlikely that they’d be supportive of Grantaire’s—fake coming out? Real coming out under fake circumstances? Enjolras didn’t even know whether or not Grantaire was gay. On one hand, it was a pretty outrageous thing for a straight guy to do. On the other hand—well. It was a pretty outrageous thing for a closeted gay guy to do, too.

With no conscious input from his brain, Enjolras’s memory rewound itself, yet again, to the sight of Grantaire calling his name yesterday in the cafeteria—eyes flashing under that mop of wild dark hair, back straight, fists clenched at his sides like he was about to take on the whole school in one go and win.

Enjolras had seen him and thought, ‘This is why Nicolas Sparks books work on people. This is why half the songs on the radio are the same insipid story over and over again.’ Novelists and songwriters wasted all those words trying to capture a sensation and tame it into words but really it was just Grantaire—smartass Grantaire who was annoying and disruptive and weirdly moody sometimes, who refused to take anything seriously, who didn’t even like Enjolras—it was just Grantaire striding forward with Enjolras’s name on his lips, fury on his face, throwing away every scrap of popularity to back up a cause he had bitterly ridiculed just days ago, for no reason Enjolras could see.

It was a lot to think about.

God, Enjolras was in so far over his head.

“Are you blushing?” said Mom.

“No,” said Enjolras.

“Frank,” she said, “Frank, he’s blushing.”

Enjolras slumped down in his chair. “He’s—funny,” Enjolras blurted, because any line of inquiry was preferable to this, even admitting out loud that he wasn’t totally immune to Grantaire’s jokes. More than once, Enjolras had walked out of a meeting with a raw spot on the inside of his cheek from an hour of trying not to laugh at his most recent shenanigans. If anything, it was more of a liability than a point in Grantaire’s favor. He never would have been able to bring everything grinding to a halt by just shouting out quotes from Family Guy or whatever passed for humor among most of their peers. He was quick and clever and creative—and he used it to make everything infinitely harder than it needed to be.

He’d been different at lunch, though, Enjolras thought, squinting unseeing at the syrup. Once the initial shock of are these the next two and a half months of my life had started to wear off, one of the first things Enjolras had noticed was how much energy Grantaire put into making the table laugh.

“Sense of humor,” said Dad. “That’s crucial.”

“Yeah,” said Enjolras. “And—a good artist.” This was something he only knew from Jehan, since the contents of Grantaire’s notebooks were apparently top secret to the rest of the world. “A really good artist,” he added. It might’ve been true, at any rate. Enjolras couldn’t picture Grantaire concentrating that hard at anything but maybe he had natural talent. “He can draw anything. And he plays the drums.”

“A musician!” Dad called over his shoulder. “Let us know if he has any gigs coming up.”

“What did you say his name was?” Mom asked.

Enjolras told her. She grimaced around a mouthful of coffee.

“What?”

“I’ve met his mom,” she said. “She’s in my Jazzercise group. She’s—well, maybe he takes after his dad.”

“Why,” said Enjolras, “did she—” He frowned at his empty plate, but of course there was no way to end that sentence without scraping too close to the truth. Try to make you feel ridiculous for caring about anything? Roll her eyes at you for reacting? Mock and defend your friends in the same breath?

“What?” said Mom.

“Nothing.”

Mom pursed her lips. “I want to be fair, maybe I caught her on a bad day, but she—struck me as pretty phony. A very Stepford feel. Plus, when I told her I had a teenage son, she laughed and said ‘I’m sorry,’ which—you know how that kind of thing burns me. Like, look, lady, I’ve got a kid I feel great about, who I love spending time with. Don’t project your issues on me.” She took another sip of coffee. “I thought her son was younger. She didn’t really mention him but she had one of those middle school honor roll bumper stickers?”

“Does he have a little brother, maybe?” Dad suggested, flipping pancakes with practiced ease.

Enjolras shrugged.

“How did you meet him?” said Mom.

“He’s—he goes to all the meetings, for the ABC,” said Enjolras, because stressing their shared history of detention felt like an unwise move and anyway this, too, was technically accurate, just in that slippery politician way that Enjolras hated—dropping breadcrumbs and letting the listener fill in the lie for themselves.

“He’s dedicated, then,” said Mom.

Completely dedicated. Not dedicated at all. I have no idea. “Yeah,” he said. “And smart.” Truthful, if misleading. “And—nice.” Maybe truthful? Enjolras seemed to be the only person he went out of his way to annoy, at any rate. “I don’t know,” Enjolras mumbled, which was, he thought wryly, the most honest claim he’d made so far. “I just—I just like him a lot,” he finished, and nothing in the words or how he said them was an act.

That was the problem.

Three

“So,” said Mom brightly, “how was Joly’s party?”

Enjolras chewed his black bean burger and fought the urge to tug up the neck of his T-shirt over the completely obvious bite bruise blooming slightly north of his clavicle. 

He swallowed. “Fine,” said Enjolras. “Good.”

“How are things with Grantaire?” she added and okay, yes, only a fool wouldn't have seen this coming.

Enjolras set down his bun. He couldn’t deal with Mom or Dad thinking he had been pressured in any way. The thought was not only abhorrent, it was completely out of character for Grantaire. Who, regardless of where he actually sat politically, had way more principles than he’d let on.

Enjolras summoned up all the sincerity he could muster. “Great,” he said, thinking of how Grantaire talked to Joly, goofy and kind, without an ounce of condescension. He could feel himself starting to smile. “Really great.” Dad cleared his throat. “You know,” he said. “When you came out to us as asexual, we assumed it meant we could skip over some conversations, but now, uh." Mom and Dad exchanged the slightest of looks.

"It's a spectrum," said Enjolras, face flaming. He hadn't articulated to them where exactly he sat on that spectrum, because for one thing he hadn't known for sure, and for another thing he could think of nothing more painful that tracing the exact topography of his attraction with his parents, for crying out loud.

"Well, there's no harm in knowledge, right?" Dad continued. His voice had the slightest practiced quality to it. Enjolras could imagine him going over his argument out loud before dinner, searching for the best way to make his case. Enjolras found this obscurely comforting. "Plus, you know," said Dad. "Kids talk about these things with each other and there's so much misinformation out there; you might appreciate the chance to be a resource for your friends. About dating or relationships, or the things that happen in a relationship. Is it okay if we go over a few things?”

Enjolras swung his foot under the table and carefully didn't think about Grantaire determinedly giving him a hickey in the kitten-wallpapered bathroom of Joly's basement.

"Sure."

"Great," said Dad, relief rushing into his face. He stood. "If it helps, I have some handouts I can go quick print out."

[copperbadge]

Howdy! I am considering submitting manuscripts I've written to a publisher or possibly self publishing. The publisher states on their website that authors must maintain an active social media presence. I'm not normally a social media type, Tumblr is my only one. What would you reccommend for such? Is it worth it to pay someone to make a website for me? Thanks and many virtual kisses for Dot and Deebs!

Honestly, I haven't submitted to a publisher since before a lot of modern social media existed. :D

It is my understanding, but this is secondhand information, that publishers want you to have either a twitter or a tiktok, preferably both, where you're frequently active and have a high follower count, because they want you to be able to publicize your book on it. One of many reasons I don't even consider trad publishing anymore is that I don't want to spend a significant chunk of my time filming videos for the sole purpose of hawking my books.

Now, as I said, that's an inference I've drawn; you may want to speak to someone who has been trad published recently to get the inside scoop (readers if you work in publishing or have been published recently, feel free to add commentary; remember to comment or reblogs, as I don't repost asks sent in response to other asks). I do have an author website but I built my own; I don't know what the going rate is for paying someone to build one these days but most website platforms are pretty intuitive to use -- I built mine on Wordpress and I'm building a new one on Wix currently, and at this point both are very drag-and-drop oriented. I do think a website is a good thing for an author to have, but I wouldn't pay someone to build one for you until you've taken a swing at DIY and decided it's not where you want to spend your time and energy.

In terms of self-publishing, the good news is that none of the rules apply; this is also the bad news. :D Because the thing about selfpub is that you either pay or DIY for...everything. It can be very inexpensive; when I publish a book the only direct monetary cost is what I pay for an ISBN and a proof copy of the book, which I will make back in the first 10 sales or so. However, I am "paying" in man hours in terms of typesetting, cover design, uploading the PDFs to lulu.com, proofing the initial copy, correcting the proof and reuploading (which usually involves further typesetting), and of course all the publicity -- website design and redesign, copywriting, tumblr posting. And while my profit per copy sold is well above what most authors with traditional publishers will make, that's because the publisher is doing a lot of the work for you. And, because I don't have an active twitter or tiktok or a publisher, my books are not very widely publicized. Undoubtedly I sell fewer copies than I would if I had a robust twitter following, but catch me touching that rancid wasteland without inch-thick gloves on.

So -- I think it's probably pretty important to understand that I have deliberately rejected trad publishing for good but not lucrative reasons, and I'm considered at best an iconoclast and more commonly a crank for having done so. If you can go the tradpub route, I would, but I also wouldn't put any money you're not prepared to write off as a loss into that pursuit. Definitely I would see if there's anyone in the industry you can reach out to who can answer these questions with a more thorough understanding of what publishers look for in an author and how to go about achieving that than I possess.

In any case, good luck! It's a journey regardless and I hope you enjoy your time on the path wherever you end up. And I'll give the cryptids a special cuddle for ya.

[nihilnovisubsole]

hey, gang! miss me? no? too bad, because i miss you. i think about you all the time. i hope the year has treated you well. this is, what, the third, fourth year i've done a year-in-review post? have i done more than that? it's after midnight. i can't be bothered to check. i fear a lot of the mysteries of getting older, but i will say, i don't mind that it's easier to shrug certain things off. i look back on all the times i hid from some scary fandom discourse and go, "god, why did i care?" it helps to have other things going on.

on the other hand, i guess 2024 was the year of finding out what happens when you put everything into your day job and leave nothing for the weekend. it was a wild year at work, which i assume is normal as a game ramps up to ship. i gave a lot, which was good! i'd be lying if i said it didn't take a lot out of me. important people at trade shows have now seen things i wrote! i got to work with voice actors! good news: a lot of your faves are great people! i also made, like, no progress on any of my own projects except the picrew, which i still chip away at. yes, i still draw. more on that later.

one or two people in my coworkers-turned-friends circle have broached the subject of occupational burnout and whether i've reached it yet. as i said last year, i remember what voltage burnout felt like, and it took a much weirder, angrier journey to get me there. it's kind that they're looking out for me, though. i think it's something all creative people could stand to keep an eye on. a buddy of mine even gave a GDC talk about it. it's a shame GDC is so stingy with access to its talks. at least this article has a great summary if you're interested in learning more.

there were other things, though. my mother broke her hip in june, which forced me into a caregiver role that i'm not suited to. don't worry, she's fine now. i love her, so it was important to me, but it didn't leave a lot of time to sit and write for fun. i started what i thought would be a casual fanfic project, wildly over-scoped it, and made a ton of work for myself. i outlined an original story about a difficult, personal subject and a culture i'm descended from, but not really familiar with. there's a lot of pressure to do it right, is what i'm saying. i'm taking the only path i can think of, which is to bury myself in research. the trouble is, a lot of the literature about this time and place is also very challenging, so it burns a lot of brain calories. it's a far cry from what usually gets me to start a story, which is "i want these characters to sleep together. let's see where it goes."

in a different time, i would've taken this struggle as an omen that i wasn't the right person to write this story and abandoned it. it's critical that i don't take the coward's way out this time if i'm going to honor the question i asked at the end of last year. "what is my work saying?" my mother told me the same thing a few months ago: "i think you're a good writer, you just need to find good things to say." i take that to mean i have to write closer to real experiences, which means including the parts i don't like: disappointment, loss, mistakes, uncertainty. i had all of this year to figure out how, and the evidence shows i didn't. i don't know what to say. "oh well?" maybe you can't put a deadline on these things. in the meantime, hercule and aida deserve more stories (it's an hercule and aida story), and i want more people to know about them, and maybe i can say something real through them.

this was also the year that i reckoned with the other side of "all it takes is money to make problems go away." i was able to travel, i mean really travel, for the first time. all it took was being able to throw a chunk of my salary at it. i had some shipping drama [sorry, not the romantic kind] where i had no choice but to pony up a ton of customs fees. my arm PT didn't work, so i'll have to try a specialist who's out of my insurance network and pay full price to see them. this must be what they call "being a successful adult." i thought it'd look different. i wanted to live in the city and have a hot, mysterious boyfriend. well, i can still live closer to the city if i keep saving up for that house, and maybe some hot, mysterious guy will take pity on me someday. do you think they like 32-year-olds who play video games and have flat chests? i went all the way to paris and still didn't find out. damn! 🤌

nah, i'm kidding. i mean, i'm not, but i have other things to worry about. as i mentioned above, things with my arm have taken a curious turn. after six and a half years of assuming i had tendinitis, i found out, not only is it likely not that, i may not be injured at all. the particulars of this theory get out into the weeds of neuromuscular science, so i'll only bore you with them if you want me to. the point is, if any of it holds water, it would go a long way toward explaining why none of the typical rest/heat/stretching/strengthening protocols have worked. it's actually unfathomable how much effort i've put into solving this mystery just so i can get back to drawing fictional people kissing. you can call my creative work boring or predictable or whatever you want, but never say i haven't committed to the bit.

i don't tend to read my previous years-in-review. this year, i did, because i sensed i was grappling with a lot of the same things as last year. there's nothing i hate like being repetitive. not that you would know from the way i keep writing the same three character archetypes. humor me here. i was all set to keep whining until i reminded myself how 2023 had gone, and i thought, "geez. it wasn't that bad." nobody i love died, for a start. my health is better. i have some unread books sitting around. as terrible as 2023 was, i survived it. if you're reading this, you did too.

so here's what i'm going to do. i think you should do it with me, though whether i'm in any position to give advice is up to you. i'm not going to make any predictions about whether 2025 will be bad or good. i'm just going to see what happens. deal? all right. we'll check in next year. you'd better be there!

[araekniarchive]

i'm moving!

hi all :)) it's been a little while since i've been very active on this blog, and whilst a good chunk of that is chronic illness/job related, another big part is that i've been really struggling with my own tagging systems, to the point it feels like work just to reblog something properly. this is primarily because the theme tagging system for this blog evolved as i did, and a lot of the tags i used to use on her became superfluous, or repeated, and despite how many i have i still struggled to find stuff!

in addition to that, because of the way the tumblr editor used to work, the way i added images to posts would randomly add blank image descriptions to the pictures that just said 'image' and i couldn't change them, which made the webs look very ugly on mobile and also inaccessible to people using screenreaders or with sight issues on any browser, which is the opposite of what i wanted. thankfully, this has now been fixed for new webs, but is unfixable on the older webs which is a real bummer :(

so, a couple of weeks ago i randomly decided to do something about it. and i did! a few of you have noticed that a new blog, @otheraraekni, has been reblogging some of my webs and adding image descriptions in the reblogs, but i've also been remaking some webs as well with the alt text finally working as intended. i've made a new navigation page for my blog organisation, full of some tags i've kept, some i've slightly changed, and a whole new kind of tags for those i use most often. currently all the links on there will lead to this blog (so some of them will lead nowhere, as they may be new tags) but my intention is to switch urls.

so -- moving? in a day or so (once i've got the last kinks worked out) i will be turning my otheraraekni blog into araekni, and this blog into an archive. because araekni is a sideblog, i don't really have the option to just attach it to an old email and set it adrift, and i'm hoping not to have to get notifications from it forever, so in a month or so it will be deleted.

why a month? hopefully that will give everyone time to save any webs they like from this blog that i haven't decided to move over to what will be the new araekni! obviously, a good portion of the followers on this blog are from a couple of years ago when i was posting webs much more regularly, and i am not at all expecting the new blog to reach the same level of popularity as this one did, but if anybody would like to follow the new blog this is your chance :) i'll queue this post a couple dozen times so as many people as possible see it, but if you don't wish to follow me over there, please know how much i have loved keeping this blog over the years and how wonderful of an experience it has been <3

[bmscribbles]

If I may, I'd like to start off the New Year by being very honest with you guys

Heads up, this is going to be long. It's not going to start good. I try to keep these things off of this account, but I think I need to say it for a few reasons that I hope makes sense as I go

I'm not around much and keep being slow with a lot of things because I am not doing well. I have not been doing well for quite some time. I frequently shrug off my absences as being busy, but I'm not busy so much as I spend most of my days wrestling with freshly planted and frequently, almost daily unintentionally, reinforced trauma while simultaneously adjusting to this being a part of my life in the first place. It has only been some months since one of the last major sources of these scars had stopped, and it has been an uphill battle against the fear responses I've learned over the past 10 years from multiple traumatic experiences being reinforced in my day to day life

This is why I don't have a regular schedule for things, why I swing between finishing art pieces quickly and taking so long to make progress, and why I suddenly vanish for chunks at a time. I don't beat myself up about these things and I continue to do my best around the issues, to be clear with people about my accessibility, but, as I'm sure you all have seen with reoccurring absences, I don't always win those daily battles

I ended up taking a break from a couple of spaces I'm in to try and really focus on what's going on in my head and what I need to do. My winter was primarily trying to make myself look at things I never wanted to look at again in order to resolve them while also keeping it together the best I could during the bustling holidays. When I came back, when mention of how long I've been gone came up, I got many pats on the head and told that "they know I get busy." People made the excuse for me before I could even try to say the truth, then carried on. It made me realize the depth of the hole I've put myself in, with how good I am at keeping my problems to myself

I don't know if this is appropriate. I don't know if this is the right thing to share in this sort of space, but I feel like I'm at a point where I need to stop pretending and taking advantage of how people make excuses for me if I play the right act just enough to seem like I'm fine, "just busy." It leads to me getting left alone a lot. I get left behind and projected onto about unexpectedly invasive things a lot. I don't think it's that people need to get their shit together, though. I need to figure what to do with myself from here, with the baggage I now have not just being tugged behind me, but nailed to my legs

This isn't meant to be a Woe Is Me post or me looking for attendance to a pity party. I wanna wipe my table clean of everything I've put on it to cover its damages, and I want to start by being transparent, and to better apologize to anyone who might feel dismissed or deemed unimportant by my radio silence with friendships and stop-and-go pace with work

With this transparency though, I'd also like to talk about the good things that have happened and that have realy helped me through these years. There isn't only bad things on the table.

I'm estatic there's folks who like what I do so much that they want to support me in the ways that they do. I don't think I'll ever be able to properly put to words just how much that means to me. I know I've said it before, but not once have I meant it lightly, even if said on a laugh. I'm honored. Seriously.

I've been trying to focus on directly approaching my issues instead of trying to do them on the side of other things happening, putting them first and foremost, and as painful has it's been it HAS been working. For the first time in a very, very long while I have been able to reach out and ask for help with problems that have completely overwhelmed me and reinforced what has happened in those ten years. I've started being able to feel like I can be there for others around me again too, not as a measurement of usefulness, but in recognition that I have the energy to so again. To do something as deeply important to me as to be there for those I care about.

I'm starting to get back to how I naturally make art over what I feel people are more interested in seeing, and I actually look forward to sharing them someday. I have a much better idea of how I'd like to approach my work in the future as my job and have the energy to start seeking out others with experience where I don't for consulting. I have projects planned out that I'm excited to jump on sometime this year, including a full comic and maybe starting to write a book I've been picking at for some years.

I'm working to get back in touch with my family and have been able to be more open with them than I've ever been in my life. I'm working to be my authentic self outside of certain circles and make it more of my everyday life over only in spaces where I only kind of fit in.

The past number of January 1sts have been harrowing as I reflected each time on the years that preceded them, with no actual end to the spiraling cycle in sight, but I find myself eagerly excited about whatever this year may hold. So yeah, I'm roughed up to hell and back and I'm still pretty battered, but there's a future, and despite everything I'm still one of the strongest people I know. I'm exhausted, but I'm getting better. I'll get back on my feet and not hit the floor as hard. One day I won't hit the floor much at all.

I don't plan on making another post like this ever again. I know I'm actively doing it, but it goes against a few principles of mine. It feels inappropriate to share so much in what is technically my professional setting, but I think this is one of the few times where I find an exception for transparency.

I'd like to spend the beginning of this year tending to my wounds so I can start putting all I've learned over the years of doing what I do as a business, as well as entertainment, to really do something spectacular this year. Both to really start getting the ball rolling with what I want to do, but to also give back to everyone that supported me all this time. Not out of obligation, but because that's something I have always wanted to do.

If you've read this far in, thank you. Thank you for your time, your attention, your patience, and understanding. It's been hard as sin and it's going to continue to be such for some time, but it's getting easier. I'm not looking for anyone to swoop in and try to save me. I'll ask for help if I need it. I promise.

I'm excited to get the show on the road, not just with work but with doing better and spending time with folks more, but please bear with me while I still sort these things out back behind the curtains. I'll be around, hit me up if you wanna hang or anything, I'm down to vibe. Hell in all honesty I'd actually love the company, regardless of if the faces are new or old.

I hope everyone's had as good of a start to the year as they could.

[sarandipitywrites]

saran's year of writing (2023)

hey y'all! saw a couple posts like this floating around and thought i'd hop on the train, because this year has been WILD for my writing (in a really good way). let's start with the bullet points version and i'll put the details under the cut. here we go:

I JOINED WRITEBLR

shared snippets of my work with other, actual humans!

made friends?!

started (and finished!) draft 2 of Dead Roots, Dark Water

wrote 1 short story for every week in october (that's 5 stories in a month! that's great for me!)

first NaNoWriMo in 10 years (and i finished it!)

drafted and re-drafted The Art of Empty Space

started draft 3 of Dead Roots, Dark Water

details, links to projects, me getting maybe a tad too personal, and those all-important wordcounts under the cut:

I JOINED WRITEBLR

i just realized i only started participating at the beginning of october, but it feels like i've been hanging out with you all the whole year 😅 maybe that means i should cut back a bit? nah...

really though, this year was the year i started taking my writing more seriously (not in a 'gotta get published' kind of way, but in a 'writing makes me happier than anything else and that's enough reason to set aside time and energy for it without feeling hella guilty' kind of way) and seeing you all posting your work and being so positive and encouraging to each other was what helped me get up the nerve to join in. and i can say without a doubt that it's the best choice i've made all year. y'all are such a supportive community and i've never once felt like i was encroaching or didn't belong here (and for me, that's really saying something)

so i guess what i'm getting at is: THANK YOU! i've loved reading your snippets and projects this year, and i'm way more confident in my own than i've ever been 💜 y'all are good peeps

Dead Roots, Dark Water

word count (edited and written): 187,789

that's a lotta words! DRDW is both my longest work wordcount-wise, and the work i've dedicated the most time to... probably ever. and i'm SO happy with it, it's a little concerning (/positive)

DRDW is now on its THIRD draft, and (assuming i don't do a massive re-edit) should be ready to start posting in 2024! *excited screaming* i've never released anything i've written in its entirety (the snippets i've been posting are actually a lot more than i've ever shared before), so this is MASSIVE for me and i'm both excited and terrified! overall, though, it's a very, very good thing

Short Stories

this october, i decided to challenge myself to do several things i don't ever do: write short stories; write them on a timeline; and share them. and i did! i wrote one short story for each week in october, and posted them here. they're far from my best work, and due to the timeline, they never could have been my best, which oddly i think helped make it easier to post them? they were also the first pieces i shared here (or anywhere)! they're not awesome, but i'm proud of them and i'm proud of myself for sharing them

NaNoWriMo and The Art of Empty Space

i've done nano once before, ten years ago. i was in college and had a lot more time then (and a job where i could spend the entire day just writing - i didn't know how good i had it), and even so i remember struggling to reach my word goal. but by the power of writing everything in wingdings so i can't second-guess my word choices, i made it this year! and even though i decided to challenge myself by writing a romance-heavy project (something i've historically avoided because IT'S HARD FOR ME, DAMNIT), i love AES and its characters and that feels fucking awesome.

even though my brain decided to spring a surprise plot restructure on me and now i have to rewrite like half of it. it'll be better for it, though, so it's all good 🥲

What's Next?

my plan for early 2024 is, of course, going to be to work on draft 3 of DRDW with the hope of getting some chapters posted (they are LONG, so i'll probably post to tumblr in chunks and the full, unbroken chapters on Ao3 due to formatting). once that's ready, i'll be able to return my attention to AES and getting draft 1.5 all written up. i've mostly figured out where the plot's going there, so it'll just be writing it up to figure out the gaps. if i'm able to write something for november again next year (which i really hope i will; nano did some great things for AES), it'll probably be one of the other Jak & Daxter fics i have kicking around in my head, because i am Obsessed (and switching it up between working on fanfic and original fic seems to work well for my brain).

i've been not super active here for the last month or so because Real Life Work is kicking my ass, but hopefully that will calm down and i'll be able to do more of what i want: writing wild shit, reading your wild shit, and screaming about it together 💜

good vibes and best wishes to everybody in the new year 🥂

[angst-in-space]

november '23 writing progress

words written: 25k

most words written in a day: 2k

least words written in a day: 0

current yearly total: 167.8k

projects worked on:

ya sci-fi book revisions

planning/zero drafting adult sci-fi wip

misc. other projects

works published in november:

none

november goals:

write as much as i can for nanowrimo (at least try to get to 50k?)

actually enjoy writing again? :’)

FINISH MY YA SCI-FI BOOK REWRITES I STFG

work on outlining/zero drafting adult sci-fi wip

finish writing edit letter for friend

work on fics??

update one of my multichap fics??

december goals:

write ~1k a day (except on holidays)

write like 100ish words of other projects a day (fics, planning projects, etc.)

write about 33k total (to meet my yearly wc goal of 200k)

finish.....ya sci-fi book rewrites... please....

finish editing ch 10 of sylvix dreamscape (idk if i'll be able to post it by end of the month/year but... maybe lol)

finish edit letter for friend

notes:

WTF IT'S DECEMBER ALREADY??? this year has flown by.... seriously what the hell.

okay well anyway. so... nanowrimo was a bit of a bust for me. i hadn't really expected to reach 50k, but i had hoped to get a biiiit more done. unfortunately the second half of the month was...not fun for me, so my motivation really tanked.

however! my more important goal this month was to just enjoy writing again since i'd been feeling quite burned out—and i would say i did succeed at that. i started planning a new wip which i'm really excited about, plus i got to rewrite one of my fave arcs of my ya sci-fi book which i had a lot of fun with!! so in that way, i would say i had a successful month and i am feeling a lot more motivated now. :)

that said...i do still have a good chunk of my book left to rewrite. i was really hoping to finish by the end of the year and now of course i only half one more month to do that. *gulps* but, by my calculations, i think i have about 30k left to rewrite aka about 1k per day which is not toooo bad—and if i succeed at that, i should also be able to reach my yearly word count goal. so i am gonna try!!

as has been the case for a long time, i've neglected fic a lot lately and i miss it. :( i did at least wanna go back to revising the last chapter of sylvix dreamscape fic and maybe pass that along to betas by end of december. aaand maybe work on writing/editing some of my other fics if i have time??? but my book is my big priority right now... i'm hoping once i finish this draft, i'll have more time to return to fic again.

so yeah, last month of 2023 I'M GONNA MAKE IT COUNT!!!!

[veebs-hates-video-games]

Ok now that I'm not stuck on XCXDE for like a month straight anymore it's time for another catch up post for one or two things I played before that and a few things since then.

Fragrant Story and Papaya's Path: I know for a while it was generally considered a scam because it was the last or one of the last 3DS games released, and to make it in within the deadline they left out like 95% of the content, but they did eventually release the rest of the game as free DLC, and now the Switch version is actually the full thing. And it's actually pretty good? I wouldn't mind a handful of QoL features like seeing attack ranges and stuff, but aside from it being a bit dated with stuff like that it's a fairly solid SRPG. I didn't finish all the optional stuff or anything, but it was fun enough to play through and very cheap on sale.

Halls of Torment (100%): I already played through a big chunk of the game last year, but going back to it after several months to 100% it still makes it one of the best thing I've played this year too. I still really enjoy how so many of the unlocks/achievements are like little puzzles you have to figure out a solution to and fit into a functional build, which makes trying to finish them all more fun and rewarding than in most similar games.

Bioweaver: I already played Bio Prototype last year I think it was, and it had a lot of interesting ideas that I didn't feel quite reached their potential. I don't think they quite did here either, but it came closer. There are so many ridiculous options available to combine and make very silly builds, and not having to start from scratch every run is nice. Stuff feels like it fits together better than in the previous game, and while it doesn't force you to explore all the options like the other one did, it gives you plenty of opportunities to if you want to. The boss fights are generally the highlight though, while normal enemies feel even less interesting than before, unfortunately. I was surprised to see a bunch of people complaining it's worse than the first game, when if I had to recommend one of the two it would definitely be this one.

Skullgirls 2nd Encore: And this is specifically 2nd Encore. I spent most of my time with the game back when it was just Skullgirls back in 2013, and it was a lot of fun even though I'm not great at it. It's still a lot of fun now, and finishing all the story stuff I didn't do back then was a good time. And that's all I'll be doing, because checking the Steam forums to see if there were any recent news posts about development still being ongoing reminded me that the Steam forums are an absolutely miserable place for most games that more than like 12 people have ever heard of. Way too many of the posts are just incandescent Gamer Rage about censorship. Go find something better to do with your time, or if you insist on being involved with the game at least go lose to SonicFox quietly or something.

Indivisible: It took me a while to get around to this one, and I was really hopeful about it, but I think I'm probably not finishing it. The art and music and voice acting are great, the characters are mostly pretty fun so far...and the gameplay is Extremely Ok, if I'm being a little generous. The platforming is fine, like there's nothing good enough about it to play for that reason but also nothing bad enough about it to avoid playing it for that reason, but I think I'm tired of the combat already a couple hours in. I'm just not really vibing with some of the design decisions or balancing, and I'm not sure I can take 20 hours of it.

[la-galaxie-langblr]

February Reflection/Goals check-in

The first two weeks of February were wonderful, the last two came from hell, but we made it!!

Academic 🎓

Study French outside of classwork on 90% of the days ✅ - yes but I'm going to shelve this as a goal for March, I have so much going on that I won't have time to do more than the bare minimum for language study

Achieve firsts on both linguistics modules and 65% on both of my French exams ✅ - I actually achieved this exactly: 76 in Syntax, 78 in Pragmatics and 65s in both translation and oral!!

6 volunteering hours 🟡 - work in progress, I did 2 hours of community gardening :) I intended to go to another gardening session but my mental health absolutely tanked the day before so I bailed, ah well

Wellbeing/hobbies/social 🌻

Stay up to date with daily devotionals - 😬 welllllllll it's lent soon, I'll catch up

Read at least 3 books ✅ - yep!! Finished Blood, Sweat and Pixels from January and also read Boy Parts and What I Wish I Knew When I Was 20, hoping to read a book or two in March as well if I have the time

Improve my current swimming best of 1200m in an hour with breaks ✅ - I swam 1350m in an hour with breaks this week!! I think I'm on track to reach 1500m before the end of the semester :D

Create and maintain routines - this is flopping unbelievably badly but I'm going to give it another good go in March

Attend a special event at least twice a month - again going well, this month I played a Pathfinder one-shot, went to a comedy show, went on a date and went to a ceilidh!! Been a big month for new experiences, most of these happened at the beginning of February and I've spent the rest of the month recovering from so much socialising and novelty, but I think ultimately it was worth it :)

Leave the house at least 6 days a week - I've been less good at this recently, also due to very poor mental health, but every time I have left the house I've felt much better so all the reason to keep trying

Side quests/bucket list/things to look forward to 🍄

Lots of fun events with friends ✅

March: Musical, St Patrick's Day, Going Home

Learn how to eat with chopsticks 🟡 - I started practicing this month!! I'm alright at eating chunks of food and I got 2 or 3 mouthfuls of rice in one meal, still a long way to go but I'm not at 0 ability anymore!!

Learn how to read 2 non-Latin scripts ❌ - I keep forgetting about this as a goal, probably going to shelve this for March because I will NOT have the time

Attend a mushroom foraging event - still no word from my uni nature societies, maybe in March?? Otherwise I'll have a look at cheap walks organised by outside organisations

I'm going to be off Tumblr for March and most of April due to Lent so the March monthly roundup and my Q2 goals will be posted afterwards :)

[thecrusadercomrade]

Do you have any tips on how you stay inspired and motivated to keep writing/finish writing a piece? I have an issue where I have a ton of fic ideas and wips sitting in my drafts, but I only write about halfway through the chapter or write a bunch of snippets before I lose my drive to keep going.

I know exactly how the story begins and ends, but getting it all out of my head and down on paper… it’s hard to keep my motivation long enough.

(I ask because you have such a consistent writing schedule and always write such good fics and one-shots!)

I can offer some advice on how I personally do it, though sadly I'm not sure how helpful it'll be to you.

For me, it's all about setting quotas for my writing. When I sit down to write, I try to get about 500 words done. Then I take a break. Then, if I feel like it, I do another 500 words. I usually get several of these sessions done in a single day. Breaking up the work into manageable chunks makes it a lot easier for me. If I tried to write a oneshot that was 3000 words all at once., it would definitely be overwhelming, so I do a little bit at a time. Telling myself "I'm gonna write 500 words" is a lot easier than saying "I'm gonna write this entire thing in one go." I actually get MORE writing done in a day with this system than I used to.

Another thing I do is set... not deadlines, but little goals for myself. I say, "I want to have this chapter done before the end of the week." For me personally, it makes me more willing to keep writing if I feel like I'm trying to reach some sort of goal. It's not the end of the world if I DON'T reach that goal in time, but it's motivating to give myself those little challenges.

Finally, one thing I do is alternate between stories. First I'll write for one fic, then I'll outline a chapter for a WIP, then I'll write a new oneshot, then I outline another chapter, then I'm back to the first fic. It helps keep me fresh that I'm not constantly focused on one project to the point I get sick of it.

I hope some of this helps. Thank you for the kind words! It's funny that you say I have a consistent writing schedule, because I used to be TERRIBLE with that sort of thing. It used to be that I'd post one thing every few months. The only reason I'm posting so often now is that I'm done with university, and I'm currently not working, so I have nothing else to direct my energy towards XD. That's probably another thing that allows me to get so much writing done. But again, thank you! I really appreciate that you think my fics are good!

[slaingelo]

basically i will;

still be posting art but making no comments on it

not be replying to asks [ unless it's art stuff ]

still be working on force gem

still be checking tumblr [ replying to DMs if we're friends, reblogging stuff i'm tagged in, reblogging stuff on vamqiredove ]

regarding the oc linkverse stuff;

the original post was just for my mutuals, but a lot of people didn't read that and i felt very awkward to say "uh. reread the post" to almost everyone [ at the time ] who asked to join. i wanted it to be a small thing with a few mutuals in hopes we could be friends, and now that it's around 10 people and also i don't actually know a good chunk of them and have never had a conversation or interaction with them outside of the joining post.

it's now something really overwhelming and stressful to think about and i've been struggling a lot to plan out the server in a way that accommodates for everyone. frankly, the last time i lead something like this was when i was 14 and it kind of fucked me up!

so, it's currently on hold while i think about what to do regarding it. chances are, i think i'll reach out to a few specific people that i actively would like to include in this [ which would be mutuals who are already my friends and mutuals who i actively want to be friends with, if you asked to join before and you fit under this, i'll dm you with the discord invite when it's set up ]. it's what i wanted in the first place but i was scared of being like, "that asshole that excludes people from the club because it's entitled and doesn't want to expand its social circle" bc frankly it's scary to go from my past experiences in fandom, to a cozy small community with 10 followers, to suddenly having way more people following me than i can comfortably comprehend.

i don't like it, it's stressing me out, and having the weekend away from my PC with my friend made me realize how much this was effecting me. a part of me kind of wants to delete and re-make and post exclusively in the fsa/four swords manga tags so i can keep a small follower base out of this stress and fear, but i know that's a bad habit, so i won't. but i will be stepping back largely for a while.

kind of hiatus 👍

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[seyaryminamoto]

Happy Birthday ! :) Go Capricorns <3 Hope you had a wonderful holiday season. Thank you for giving us this beautiful story. If I may ask, as a writer, how do you keep yourself going? How do you stay motivated and inspired for so long? It’s amazing! And the story you deliver is absolutely breathtaking. I admire you so much <3 P.S Thoughts on the new comics/ movies that avatar studios is coming up with ??

Sorry for taking so long to answer! Happy birthday to you too, Anon! I'm assuming it already passed, with Capricorn season wrapping up and all x'D

So, how do I stay motivated...? To be honest, it's a bit tricky to answer that X'D

I've told this story a few times in the past, I think, but the truth is, I actually wound up writing ATLA fics because I was stuck, absolutely stuck, with an original story over some worldbuilding elements I couldn't figure out. I was infuriated and frustrated by it, so I decided to clear my head and go watch this TV show people kept telling me was soooo good, so I settled on doing that and no longer stressing out about my story...!

... Poor story's been fridged for ten years :') so very cruel of me to do that, I know. And I think that, on top of the fridging, I'm actually bound to have to rewrite the whole thing from scratch one day, so... yeah :'D

The point of sharing this is explaining that, as much as I write up a storm sometimes, I don't ALWAYS do it, it doesn't work with everything, writer's block is no stranger for me, if anything I got waaaay too acquainted with it as a teenage writer who was writing whatever came to mind with zero pressure because it was for her eyes only.

My time writing original fiction as a teenager taught me many lessons, though, and among them, the discipline to write on a regular, constant basis. This isn't something EVERYONE can do, every writer works differently, and I can't pretend I'm permanently, constantly ready to write. But just waiting for inspiration to strike is a dangerous game to play, because... often inspiration arrives for the wrong things, or at the wrong time. I don't write anything out of order if I can help it (though my god, Part 3 is sooo trying to mess with that, organizing this chaotic chunk of the story has NOT been easy x'D), precisely because if I don't push myself through the transition scenes, through the lead-up, and I just jump right into the big moments I REALLY want to write? I'll never write the build-up to it because I'll never feel like it :'D

So, for starters, discipline. The discipline I developed is mostly about being ready to power through when things aren't super engaging. And then, if things didn't feel right because you forced them, you scrap and redo it, specifically by pinpointing the problems that caused things to feel forced. I've had to scrap soooo many ideas that just weren't flowing correctly, and I've had to go around that and figure out other ways to write something, both to make it more engaging and to make it actually work better than whatever I had in mind at first...

... Therefore, secondly, gotta learn to adapt! Once you identify something's not right, or a GREAT idea comes to mind but it potentially derails your previous plans, you slow down to figure out how to adapt, if adapting is possible at all. I actually had some very strange ideas for the arc I'm currently posting in Gladiator, and upon reaching the point where I finally had to write them... I realized that concept didn't work. It might work better on a TV show, maybe, in something audiovisual, because it would have required a lot of switching, back and forth, between two situations that looked the same, at the same time? Kinda? And it just didn't feel right when I finally was supposed to write it, it was too confusing. So... I adapted to what felt right, and I think the result is infinitely better for it :D

Thirdly... which probably should be the first thing, honestly: building scenes.

It sounds weird to say it this way, but this is a key element of how I write stories. It's become such an important part of it that nowadays I've become disgustingly critical of how scenes are built in any content I consume -- I'll have to try and figure out if someone's put my feelings about this into words, maybe in academic essays or books or so, because I admit I really don't know how to explain something that feels so instinctive to me...

But anyway: scene building is the core of how I write. If I were planning on writing a car race, I'd have to think about how that race will end, probably even before I think about how it begins. If it ends with a triumph for the hero, or a defeat, or a brutal accident that causes the race to be cancelled? I have to think about how that would happen, depending on the story I'm telling. Once I settle on the outcome, that retroactively informs then, of what I need to do in order to build this conclusion: how do I develop the characters in order to take them in that direction? And once the conclusion arrives... it has to be the biggest moment of the story. It has to carry narrative weight. A lot of that can be built by setting the stage, something I've found a lot of people don't really seem to think about... but even a small room in a house can be a grand stage for a big story's conclusion if the scene is set properly to pay off there.

So... I build up scenes. When I start thinking about telling stories, the first thing my brain is wired towards is envisioning scenes. Once I come up with a scene that I REALLY want to write, or in some cases, multiple scenes, I start to thread things together. Let's take for example... my "Azula and Sokka as spies" AU from Sokkla Saturdays 2020.

First thing I came up with was the idea, of course, of Sokka and Azula having to work together to save Kuei somehow. The exact threat they were saving him from only came to mind later, what mattered was that they would be in Ba Sing Se, cooperating to put a stop to something dangerous.

Then, I thought of the idea of the two of them being stuck together in a closet or a very tight space, unable to move or do anything because the enemy was right there and would catch them snooping about in the wrong place at the wrong time :'D This specific scene, then, became the core of how I built up that story.

From that core, I started to come up with the conclusion (do they win or lose), as well as how they landed in that situation, what's the threat, why they're working together but as separate agents, what their dynamics would be like in this setting, how their mutual attraction reaches a boiling point in that very specific scene...

And at that point, I just focused on preparing everything and setting the stage in order to tell the story of... how Sokka and Azula wound up locked inside a tight space together in Ba Sing Se's Palace X'D

For me, generating those core scenes is crucial for building a story that I can flow through with the right amount of motivation. I don't really know how other people do it, some people love writing stories without planning anything beforehand, and all the power to them if they can do that. I really prefer building things up towards the outcome I'm aiming for, though. At times, new elements come up in the middle of writing anyway, and you can be surprised by unexpected twists that actually bring new life to your story. You just have to let yourself ride the waves and figure out whether you'd rather choose your destination or let your story choose it for you, in a sense. But for me, setting at least some of the course is what seriously pushes me towards creating the story I want to write.

Gladiator-wise, the key has been this same principle, but in higher frequency. Basically, pretty much every arc I've written has one or multiple core scenes that I built up at the center of it all. Sometimes those core scenes could be very small and contained things... sometimes they could be something massive and chaotic. But I basically have pushed through Gladiator without breaking (even when things did get me down at times) because I had those highlights, important moments to look forward to that motivated me (and still motivate me, we're not done yet!) to keep going and push past the build-up that's necessary for everything that comes next.

... Alright, I hope that made sense X'D

As for Avatar Studios and its upcoming projects, as well as Hicks's next comic... I don't really have a lot to say on that front. I'm on a strict "live-and-let-die" policy with canon since North and South Part 1, pretty much, the last comic I ever read in full... because unless canon actually catches my attention and does things in a way I can respect/enjoy, I'm better off not engaging with it. As I mentioned in another ask not long ago, what really bothers me about the latest direction of this franchise is the lack of purpose in the stories they've been telling. Aang's story doesn't feel that way... but pretty much everything else does. Until I get the sense that they do have a direction and a purpose, I don't think I'm going to be overly concerned with whatever canon does. If I'm told Azula's comic is great, I'll definitely give it a read, but I don't hold out a ton of hope for my peace of mind, too. Better not to get excited only to be disappointed later on, as The Search taught me :'D I'd love it if Hicks can do a good job with the comic, of course, but I'm not passing judgment for or against it until it's out... and after it's out, I'll only pass judgment if I actually decide it sounds like something I want to read. Canon is free to do what it wishes to... I live very happily in my AUs and I have no need for canon validation to do what I do. So... that's my stance on that :'D

[witter88]

What I'm Doing to Become a Writer

I don't know what I'm doing! But I know I have to start trying things and keep it up until something works. So, in the first week of my pursuit of this new career dream, here's what I'm up to (please keep in mind that I am currently unemployed):

1. I am writing every day, at least 1,000 words a day. I know the number seems arbitrary, and I think it probably is. But it's a sizable chunk, a good deal of (minimum) time to be focusing on this skill, so I've adopted the ritual after seeing it on a bunch of "how to improve your writing" listicles. And now I'm regurgitating the same advice. Quality content.

2. I am consuming "how to write" videos and classes online. Right now, I'm into MasterClass. I've glanced at the Coursera offerings, and might try that next. After I exhaust my free and relatively less expensive options, I may look into more formal classes.

3. I am reading a lot. And the more I practice writing, and learn from the videos I'm watching, the more I notice in the books I read. And the more ideas I have. I made a syllabus for myself to help keep up with it. The syllabus runs through the end of 2023. It consists entirely of unread books I already own.

4. I keep a list of writing ideas as they come to me so when I do sit down to write, I never have an excuse not to work on something.

5. I made a Medium account. I can't say that's something I'm currently doing, because I'm scared to post anything under my full name, but I'm trying to work up the nerve. I did personalize the colors in my profile, not that I can honestly consider that a start.

6. I'm going to try to add to this blog nearly every day-- at least, as long as I have new ideas and developments. This goal might change-- I have no real concept of how heavy a lift it would be. But, yeah. This blog.

7. I'm journaling every night. The more I write, the better, right? So I'm keeping up the habit, and recording this phase of my life, and venting frustrations, insecurities, and worries. And gossiping about my friends and their problems with my future self.

8. I had an informational interview with a family friend today, and am trying to muster up the motivation to reach out (cold) to people in my college's alumni network who might be generous enough to talk over the phone. I hate sending out these requests, but here we are.

9. I am thinking about (and browsing for) day jobs I could get while I develop my writing abilities. I'm hoping to find pretty much anything that's remote, offers insurance, and is writing-related, ideally. Really, I'll take anything that has the first two.

This is it, so far. In one week, I believe I've progressed just enough to have gained a deeper and more nerve-wracking understanding of how badly I need to improve. But that's just a part of the journey.

[helianskies]

Well, I don't really know why I'm writing this to you because you'll think "what do I care" but I don't really know who to tell and well, I hope you can help me....

I've been thinking for a long time that I would like to publish content here about EngSpa and NedPort but I don't really know where to start.

First of all, I don't have a following here because so far I've preferred to just look at other people's content, but I really feel like I'd like to post my thoughts and ideas about them here, but I feel like it wouldn't reach other people and so I'm not sure if it's worth it.

Also, English is not my native language, it's Spanish, so I feel like possible typos would be a good reason to back out. Whenever I ask a question or write a post here, I run it through the proofreader about five times just in case (this one too :)) It's not that I don't know English, it's just that I don't have as many resources as other people to ask questions and write accurate texts.

I know I have things to offer but I also know I'm inexperienced at this. I've always liked writing, it helps me think, focus and reflect how I feel. Whenever I've had the opportunity to enter writing competitions I've always done so, and I've never really done too badly. I was even a finalist in a national tournament, but facing other people's opinions makes me feel insecure. There's a lot of talent on this platform, I've been discovering it as I read other works and fanfics, but I know, if I upload any kind of content, I'll feel insecure about it. It always happens to me and I don't know how to get the "conscience" to say, it's ok, it's ok, you're not going to be criticized for everything you do or don't do. I don't know if you understand me or if you've ever felt like that.

Anyway, because of all these things, I feel insecure about publishing stories or scenarios that I imagine possible on this ships, but I would really, really, really like to...

dearest anon, you are, like all other anons that have wandered into my inbox, welcome to a cookie 🍪 but i would actually like to give you a hug, more than anything - a good ol' fashioned bear hug, and a great big chunk o' words to go with it that i hope you'll find useful in some way:

firstly, hi, welcome, yes, any EngSpa/NedPort fan is always welcome at my door and certainly within our cosy corner of the fandom. whether you create or consume, i'm sure we're always happy just to have more people visit us and share their thoughts on both pairings. i, for one, would love to hear any ideas you have, written or not!

as for starting out, i... don't know how much it helps if i just say 'go for it!' but... go for it! i can at least say that i do understand how you feel about actually spreading word of your works, of course. my own following here is pretty small (not that i've been on tumblr for that long!) but i have some truly amazing, quality, lovely people amongst my mutuals that i adore engaging with, seeing their work, sharing ideas with, all that sort of stuff. i trust them to reblog my work if they enjoy it, and i know that without that magical button (and usually someone screaming in the tags as a sort of comment for me <3) some of my works would not get so much consideration, if any.

even now.

seriously.

even nowadays i long for my AO3 inbox to show a new comment has appeared - often to be left disappointed when i wake and before i go to bed. as disheartening as it can be, however, there are still a handful of people here who i know appreciate what i do, and who encourage me to continue through a simple reblog and tag-commentary. and that's what matters most: that i've gained a modest but fierce support base. and if you ever wanted to publish a work and share it with us, i don't doubt that you would soon find that support base, too. sometimes all it takes is one person to say, i really like what you've got going on here, to help you find the strength and will to make your story available to everyone.

i'll be totally honest with you anon: that isnecurity doesn't always go away easily. i still feel that wave of dread whenever i have a new work to publish, because i fear what people will think. even publishing a chapter in an established work makes me anxious because, well, what if it's not good enough? or doesn't meet people's expectations? i think the issue is, we rely so heavily as creators on people's opinions and feedback to fuel our motivation, and if it doesn't apppear or simply isn't positive, it can hamper our creativity. i've had an awful comment that's made me cry before. i've had several more that have made me cry tears of joy because someone really enjoyed something i wrote and cared enough to tell me. it's a bumpy road, really... but i've generally found that people who don't care for what i write just turn away and leave me alone - and good! it saves us both some time and effort! so i try to focus on the positive. i still don't always receive as much reception or feedback as i'd like on AO3, but... i try not to let it wear me down (there'd be nothing left of me by now, otherwise).

what i would say is, as i say to myself, try not to put too much pressure on yourself if you do want to publish a work, be it short or long, on here or elsewhere. i have NedPort works that i look at in absolute despair sometimes, because they have hardly any reads compared to my EngSpa works - but then i think, forty people still read this, so i must be doing something right. otherwise no one would read it, or leave kudos, or reblog, or leave a comment. that's what i try to focus on. even if only one person leaves a kudos/like and nothing more - well, that's one person i've made happy. and it can only get better from here, right?

writing is a constant learn-and-grow process. i've only been at this for three years on AO3 and i've done a lot of developing in that time. i can even look back on a work from a few months ago and see a change in how i write, what i write, and so on. in those 3 years, i've somehow built bridges of communication with creators that 2018 helia would have never thought she'd ever talk to. yet here i am. does negativity still get to me? yes. do i still feel an overwhelming nervousness when i publish a work or share an au idea on tumblr? yes. do i still think i could be doing so much better as a writer/contributor to this cosy corner of the fandom? abso-freaking-lutely! but i'm trying to take it in my stride and to learn that, it's okay to feel that way sometimes.

one day, of course, i hope i won't feel those things. day by day, my support base is slowly helping me to achieve that.

you may not have a following here, anon, but there's an invisible 'yet' on the end of that sentence. we all start from zero. we all have to work and build ourselves up first - give ourselves the drive - to then meet others who like what you do, agree with what you think, or who simply are open-minded to such things. it's not always easy, and it's not always fast. but it's certainly not impossible.

this probably turned out much longer than either of us were expecting, i'll admit. but like i said, it's a topic i can empathise with greatly, and i'd like to at least commend you for considering being an active creator - it's a big step, but i know that you can take it if you want to.

and hey, look, don't you dare start worrying about your English, ya hear me? 1) as a languages student, i will ALWAYS be impressed and appreciative of someone who writes in a language that isn't their mother tongue, because as much as i'd love to write something in Spanish, i know how freaking hard that'd end up being even with all the years' worth of study i've had lmao. honestly, i'd read fanfic in whatever language i can. i've used online translators to help access more content many times, and it's often rewarding! so, please don't sweat it if you choose to write in English. it's a bastard of a language, and proofreader or no, you had me fooled. oh, and 2) i know many native English people who can't speak the language either so i think you're saf- *slapped*

...you get the point. i make typos. i use the language wrong, sometimes. no one is perfect, no one is infallible. 'it is human to err' and 100000000 respect points to you for being braver than i to write in a second language (i'll try it one day i'm sure... pff..)

finally, anon, before we part ways, like ships passing in the night, just know that my inbox is always open. if you want to ramble on about scenarios and au ideas and 'what if's to me, i am all ears! i want to know, i want to listen, i want to share. you had me at 'Well,' <3