#either way I’m happy with myself! I wanted to rewrite what I had for a while and now that I have I feel like I can move on :)

[plugnuts]

Huh. I guess what got me actually writing my fic was 1. Be really tired and 2. Be really bored

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 1

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe (Will) never had too much trouble adapting (Season 2).

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (we're all adults here), Joe actually loses his mind a little at the end.

Now for something nobody expected! The long-awaited rewrite for Infatuation... I have 40 pages of this, by the way. I'd like for *some* of them to see the light of day... and so I've told myself: If I wait for it to be perfect, It'll never be posted. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts! xoxo Ona

My eyes roamed the list of names by the front door of the apartment complex. There were about four total, so finding yours was the easiest part. The hardest step came in the form of mustering up the courage to press the buzzer. But, was it really a trouble with courage? The more I thought, as my finger hovered over the button, the more I began to consider it to be uncertainty.

I pause and reach my other hand into my pocket. My fingers slide across the screen of your phone, and I remind myself why I'm here. Simply put, I’m here to give you your phone back. I found it on the passenger’s seat of my car and almost thought to tell Love… Instantly, a part of me knew she would’ve pried it from my grip to give to you herself – and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for us to speak again, this time unmonitored by her perceptive gaze and sharp ears… and without the alcohol in your system.

Last night, you clung to Love as she touched you tenderly, playing the role of your dutiful sober saviour. She hosted a dinner and she invited her friends. One of them was you.

“A good friend,” She had called you. The last she’d spoken to you was ten years ago, and I guess I hadn’t realized good friends stay out of reach for a decade at a time. It didn’t matter how much time had split you two apart, though, because Love embraced you with a warm smile and open arms. There wasn’t any malice, no judgement either. She was just happy to have you back in her life. When you got too drunk to take public transportation, Love tried to coax you into staying the night. You wouldn’t budge, even with a slipping tongue, fluttering eyes, and a head too heavy to stay upright. So she compromised: you let her coddle you, sober you up just enough, and I drove you home. It wasn’t even that late, Love just couldn't stop pouring you wine after wine after wine. You seemed like you needed it, though. Tense as you were. Pent up little thing.

“What’s your relationship like with Love?” I asked, feeling rather bold with your inebriated self. The image of her hand resting on your thigh flashed in my mind. I laughed. “She hadn’t mentioned you until you’d moved back to LA. She practically can't shut up about you now.”

You shifted in your seat like a child. No position in my car seemed comfortable for you, and you had made it more than obvious.

“She’s a good friend.” You responded and looked out the window like it meant something. Love had said the same thing — I believed you both — but I felt as though you were withholding something else from the conversation. The annoying bell on your purse jingles as you tuck it closer to your side.

“You two seem close. Should I be concerned?” I then asked teasingly, laughing to fill the awkward tension of a silent car ride. I wanted to spark something in you, but you brushed it off as you curled your arms around your waist.

“I think I had too much to drink…” I glanced at you, and I was suddenly nervous. Your coat was askew, hanging off your shoulders. I knew you were drunk, but your direct announcement sounded to me as a warning.

“Tell me if you need to throw up, okay?” You slowly nodded before slotting your forehead against the cool car window. We remained like that until you got home, choosing to stumble your way for a block to feel a semblance of privacy – but I watched you walk up those steps. I knew your building, and you were still too fucked up to realize.

I pull your phone out of my pocket and look it over one more time. My thumb runs over the plastic case before turning it around and looking at myself in the black reflection.

Your phone is dead. Has been since I found it. None of my chargers fit into the port, unsurprisingly. It’s one of those phones where the keyboard slides out, for Pete's sake. Your phone is more than a few generations old. A brick. I chewed my fingers raw trying anything I could to get it started again – I wanted to pry, really. I’ll be honest with you here, I really wanted this glimpse into your personal affairs.

I wondered, exasperatedly, about what you were hiding behind this screen. Clutching it tighter into my palm, I lift my free hand and press the buzzer.

A few long moments after the sound, I hear a click.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Will –” I begin to say, ready to explain myself in the same manner I had rehearsed at home, eating breakfast, in the car, and on my way up the steps. However, you cut me off immediately.

“Do you have my phone?”

My heart skips a beat and I’m momentarily stunned. I blink a few times before speaking.

“Yeah, actually.” I replied. “I found it on the passenger seat this morning, I guess I didn't see it when I got home last night.”

“I’m going to buzz you in.” Perfect.

After hearing the buzzer, the door clicked. I made my way inside. The stairs were wooden and creaky, the walls showing obvious water damage, and the lights hummed obnoxiously. Obviously, none of this was of your doing. Your landlord just didn’t care.

Your door’s paint was chipping off, revealing the cracked wooden layer underneath, but the rusted numbers on your door somehow looked worse. I knocked.

I heard the shuffling of your feet from behind the door before it opened. When your head peeked out, you gave me a smile and extended your hand.

I momentarily look at it, thinking… Right. I drop your phone into your awaiting palm. I almost thought you wanted me to reach out as well. That would’ve been too good, right?

“May I use your bathroom?” I ask.

Your mouth opens momentarily, as you look away and off to the side. There’s nothing there, you’re simply thinking it through and disappearing into your head again.

“Sure.” You then reply, reluctantly scooting back and giving me my first glimpse into your apartment.

If only you knew how ecstatic I was to slip through the crack of your front door. My heart thumps excitedly, as I waste no time looking around. By the door sits a coat hanger with a few pairs of shoes around its feet.

“Should I take off my boots?” I ask.

“Yeah, actually. I’d appreciate it.”

I untie the laces and slip them off my feet. Then, just as I drop them by the coat hanger, you beckon me to follow.

Your apartment is a fair size, with one large space making up both the kitchen and the living room. Right of the front door, a short hallway leads us to a room. As you continue past the door, I slow myself and look to my left. Your hallway has a little louvred closet, and I can’t help but reach out and open it. There’s nothing exciting inside, only white bed sheets.

“The bathroom is over here.” I suddenly hear you say from within the bedroom. I close the closet and hurry along, hesitantly making my way into your room.

I examine the layout of your furniture: your bed is made, your dresser tucked away in the corner, your desk by the window, and your small bookcase right by its side. I take another look toward your window: It overlooks the front of the building, I think. I want to look around more, but I’ve already entered an uncomfortable silence through this simple observation… you’re bound to find it weird. Hell, you’re already finding it weird – my being here – if your reluctance to me using your bathroom is anything to go by.

“Thanks.” I tell you, nodding in your direction and scooting by to enter the bathroom. I peer over my shoulder, however, and take another peek into your bedroom before shutting the door.

In the bathroom, I made my way to the toilet and listened to your shuffling from the other side of the door. I lifted the seat without paying much attention, and stilled when I heard you leave the bedroom entirely. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to use it.

I waited a moment, lowered the toilet seat again, and didn’t bother flushing or washing my hands. The sound could set you off that I was finished, and I definitely wasn’t finished. I needed the opportunity to snoop just a tad bit more. I unlocked and creaked the bathroom door open, observing the quiet room with more attention than I had before.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I leave the door open. My head snaps in the direction of your bedroom door and I pleasantly find it shut from the rest of your apartment. You’re making this too easy. I make my way around quietly, being careful with my steps as I approach your nightstand with a familiar object glinting in the natural sunlight of the room: your phone, on its charger. When I press the button on its side, the logo appears as it powers on.

I take the time needed for the phone to boot up as an excuse to look about your room. The bookcase, which I had only glanced at before, takes shape infront of me. My hand drifts along the spines of the books… and I feel unsatisfied. You have a small selection of kitschy modern romance novels. My judging eyes shift to your dresser, the framed pictures sitting on top catching my attention. I don't recognize anyone, but a weird feeling washes over me. You’re not in any of these pictures. I feel a… disconnection… from the room. My eyes move elsewhere and I catch sight of a few unopened cardboard boxes against the wall near the bedroom door. They’re folded. Unused. I wonder briefly as I look back down to your phone. It’s open.

Unlocking it was easy, no password. You know, the good thing about an older cellphone model is how easy it is to just… get in. I flip your phone over and pop the back right off. I slide the chip out of my pocket and right into place. Once everything is back in its place, I unlock your phone and fully install the hardware. As much as I would like to start snooping about your phone now, I close it and set it back down on your nightstand. I make my way back into the bathroom, pulling my phone out all the while. I open the freshly installed app and bite at my lip as I see the device sync up. Done.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and make my way out of the bedroom. When I step back into your living room kitchen, you’re seated at the short island, your back to the small living room.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I say, making my way back to the front door. You swivel the chair as I walk by and watch me duck for my boots.

“Thanks for bringing me my phone. I was almost going to head out to Anavrin–”

“Oh, I don’t work Saturdays. You would’ve missed me entirely.” I say all matter-of-factly, like an asshole. You shrink.

“Noted.”

As I loop the laces around, I look up at you. Your brows knit together and you avert your eyes from me. I watch you for another moment, smiling to myself. You’re nervous.

“What’re all the boxes for?” I ask, looking around the apartment. They’re a little sprawled out everywhere, but most of them are still folded up. I chew my cheek as I wonder – are you packing up to leave already? You just got here not even a week ago. Is that what’s gotten you so nervous? Cause I caught you? I bite my tongue and choose to rephrase my thoughts. “Still unpacking?”

“No, It’s… complicated.” You respond.

I nod my head and stand. Your eyes fleet to me for a second before drawing away. Is it me, Y/N? Am I making you nervous?

“Thank you again, for my phone.” You mumble, drifting off somewhere. I smile wide, and huff. You’re not a threat. A pest, likely. But not a threat.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I’m out the door not a moment later, spinning my keys while on the way to my car.

—

Back at my apartment, I notice the door’s unlocked.

I'm cautious as I walk through the threshold, peering ahead only to notice Love behind the counter.

“Love, I didn’t expect you to break into my apartment.” I tease, taking off my boots and shedding my jacket.

“I thought you’d be home,” she whines. “Besides, it’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.”

I make my way into the kitchen, to her side, and slip my hands around her waist. She turns her head to look at me, a big smile on her face.

“Where were you?” She mumbles, still looking down at the counter.

“I went over to Y/N’s apartment,” I began, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “She forgot her phone in my car last night.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Mmh,” Love hums. “That was nice of you.”

I look over her shoulder, noticing the restaurant brochures infront of her.

“What were you doing here?”

“Looking for something to order. I don’t really want to cook again tonight.”

I lift my hands off her hips, placing them on either side of the counter. I press forward, and slide one of the menus into view.

“This one seems good.” I whisper, inconsiderate of what I’m pointing to. I’ve got one thing on my mind right now, and it isn’t the brochures.

Catching onto my carelessness, Love turns around and faces me. She tilts her head and observes my face for a moment before sliding her arms around my neck.

“How did it go?” Love suddenly inquires about us again.

“It went well,” I tell her, keeping it short. Still, she pries.

“Tell me more,”

“Well, she showed me to her bathroom,” I look around, as though I was recalling the few minutes I stood in your apartment. I’ll keep the snooping to myself. “Aaand, that’s about it.”

Love thins her lip. She’s pensive for a moment. She thinks, and I watch her grapple with her thoughts as she looks about the kitchen. She clears her throat before speaking.

“Will,” She starts, her hand taps my chest and I watch it circle around. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important, but… can you do me a huge favour?”

My hands find Love’s face, cupping her cheeks, and pressing her forehead to mine. My eyes search hers, and I pout.

“Anything for you,” I tell her. Anything.

“Forty has this thing tomorrow… I didn’t think ahead, and my plans are jumbled. But, this is really important.”

For a second, my stomach drops. I try not to let the horror show on my face as I’m convinced she’s about to glue me to Forty’s side for a day. But she continues.

“Y/N needs help clearing the apartment,” My eyes narrow, and I nod as I continue to listen. “You see… Will. It isn’t really my place to say this, but I thought you should know her mom passed away a few months ago. She’s been trying to sort through the estate, and they finally gave her the green light to clear out her old apartment. I can’t be there to help.”

Love’s hands slide over mine, cupping my fingers as I cup her cheeks.

“Are you free sometime tomorrow? Would you be able to help her out?”

With this revelation, the framed pictures sitting on the dresser make sense.

“I mean… yeah. I can do that.”

Love lights up at my response, hopping up for an intimate kiss. My hands fall to her ass, but she pulls away too soon. Always too soon.

“Thank you, Will,” She grins, tapping my chest again. “I’ll let her know.”

As Love pulls out her phone, I watch her tap away at the screen.

“You know, that entire complex looks unlivable. The place might have a rodent problem, too.” I say as she hits send.

“I know! I told her she could stay with me,” Love leans her head against my chest with a frustrated huff, slipping her phone onto the counter.

“You both already spend so many afternoons together,” I begin, sliding her head up to look at me. My fingers brush her cheek, and my next words come out hushed. “If she was around any more, I’d never have you to myself.”

Her eyes flutter as my hands brush baby hairs out of her face. I hum, and lean in for another kiss.

“Will,” she starts, pressing her palm into my chest. She pushes me back, and I let her. “I’m not in the mood right now. Is that alright?”

I purse my lips… a little agitated, but I understand. I’m in the mood, but I understand. She doesn’t want to have sex, she wants to talk about you.

“Of course, Love,” I kiss her cheek. “Some other time.”

With a smile, she returns her attention to those stupid brochures. I agree to whatever she wants, whatever she’s in the mood for. I always do.

Once dinner’s sorted, we pair it with a movie on my tv. We cuddle, and it’s nice. During an intimate scene, a quiet one with rustling bedsheets, Love decides to speak.

“I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N.” She says with a hum, rubbing her face into my chest. I grunt when her hand squeezes my knee. “She appreciates it too, I know it. She doesn’t know many people in the city anymore.”

I tear my eyes away from the sex on tv to look Love in the eyes.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have that thing with Forty. Someone seems a little forgetful tonight” I laugh and apologize, scolding myself. Of course… Tomorrow. I did forget. She turns her attention back to the movie. When I reluctantly return my own attention to the screen, I can’t help but scrutinise everything I see. Love seems pleased, watching the protagonist and her girlfriend lounge after what felt like the most drawn-out fucking I’d ever witnessed on tv. She’s probably thinking to herself: what a nice couple, happy, in love, and all tuckered out. But I feel differently. I see something I’m missing. We could be them, Love and I. But, instead of being wrapped in each other with more to do than to SAY, I think about the brick phone, I think about the lunch dates, I think about the selfishness of only reaching out when things became convenient, and I think about YOU. I think about the rust on your door, think about your dead mom, I think about how Love wants me to help you pack her things – like I’m some tool to be borrowed and Love’s the kind neighbour willing to lend – and I think about how Love touches you and I can’t help but wish I could crawl into your skin and rip you up from the inside.

The bell on your bag rings in my ears, jingling as you tap it over, and over again. Should I feel threatened by you? Because I do, even when everything about you proves to me you’re no threat at all. You’re meek, small, pathetic. Despite it all, you’ve stepped into my yard, trampled the very bushes I’ve trimmed and watered to perfection, and made yourself cozy against the love of my life. And, like a call to battle, the bell stirs something in me.

But you’re innocent, I cry in my head. You’re not Peach. You’re no evil mastermind, and stepping into someone else’s yard doesn’t mean much when you’re a helpless rabbit. Your mom is dead, you’re grieving. I think about you, in my car, curled in on yourself, skin exposed. Scared. I grit my teeth at the thought.

When Love departs, just after the movie ends, I spend some time catching up on your messages. That’s all I can really do, actually. With such an old model, your system doesn’t allow access to anything, anywhere, anytime. Just the text messages. I scroll to find your mention of me dropping by earlier.

‘Left my phone in Will’s car. He dropped it off.’

‘He’s the best <3’ Love responded.

About twenty minutes after that, Love let you know I’m replacing her tomorrow.

‘We can reschedule.’ You tried, but Love tells you the plans are already made. You can’t run from this. Neither can I.

I recline on my couch, huffing as I read as far as your messages go. I couldn’t get the older logs but anything you send from here on out, I have access to. When the late hours of the night finally catch up to me, I look out my window at the flickering street lights, and I head to bed.

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

[justallihere]

Wdym he shrugged 🤨 you don’t get to act like you’re in the right!! (I have no idea what the context is but I’m taking everything personally on behalf of Violet)

Just for that I hope he cries and begs on his knees for 30 days and 30 nights. I need to see tears come out of his eyes, I need to see the most pathetic love declaration. His life needs to be in shambles without his wife!

My baby Violet 🥺 I’m so happy she has the people she has in her life who will literally go down swinging for her and remind her she’s not alone.

One thing I’m wondering is if Aretia was tricked by Navarre. Obviously Navarre wants to hide the venin from Violet but what if they/Tauri had an ulterior motive? What if they’re hoping because of her lack of preparation, Violet dies because of a venin which results in Xaden’s death and the destabilization of Tyrrendor, without having to get their hands dirty. They could consolidate the hatching grounds back in the Vale. The political implications literally just occurred to me and if that’s the case, Aretia were gonna get end up in a war against the venin and Navarre either way and they chose the option that put them at a severe disadvantage.

I feel like this should’ve been the canon Empyrean storyline if I’m being honest. I’m seeing these characters in a whole new way and I personally think this is so much more compelling. I think this fic in particular could take the place of Iron Flame and book 1 could’ve focused on the breakdown of Violet and Dane’s and her taking care of herself during her first year without the help of Xaden. If you couldn’t tell, I love this story! Can’t wait to read the next chapter (whenever that may be, take your time 💕)

lol I love how everyone is ready to go down swinging for Vi 😂 his shrug makes a little more sense in context I think when you read what exactly she says that he’s shrugging at.

I keep saying “oh no fuck the politics of this story, I don’t care about the politics” anon I care so much about the politics of this story I want to throw up. This is awful. I want to not care but I can’t leave plot holes. Why did I do this to myself? Why did you all let me do this to myself? Can you all look away for the rest of this fic so I can stop caring?

Anyway point being yeah there’s a lot going on here and the political ramifications of some choices that are made very soon are going to bite everyone in the ass and god bless Lilith Sorrengail is all I’m gonna say

I don’t have the patience to go back and rewrite Violet’s first year at Basgiath in this universe but just know if I did it would be really cool. But I’m lazy so I won’t

Thank you!! 🩷🩷

[scribeofred]

Writer tag game

I wasn’t tagged, but I saw the game via @coyote-nebula and want to play anyway!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

43 works

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

148,937

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Right now just Detroit: Become Human

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

tell the shades apart (my world is black and white)

Reflection

The 43rd Hour

Holding On

these dead roses bloom once more

5. do you respond to comments?

All of the comments with substance, yes!

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

Brushing aside works that contain canonical character death, probably a place where the water touches the sky, even though it’s an ambiguous ending.

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

I don’t know if there’s one with an ending that’s more definitively happy than everything else, but bombshell has a very fun, flirty ending.

8. do you get hate on fics?

No outright hate, but I have received a handful of comments that basically amounted to “what you wrote in this story isn’t to my tastes and I'm going to tell you why you should've written what I wanted to read,” which. Y’know. Dldr 🙃

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

I do, though I’ve never publicly posted anything more explicit than a fade-to-black. Mostly I’ve written collaborative scenes with friends, either full-blown role-play style or more spur-of-the-moment snapshots than highly structured, fully fleshed out scenes. If I’m writing by myself, I tend to lean harder toward sensual and less toward outright E-rated PWP.

10. do you write crossovers?

Not in the strictest sense, although I’ve thrown ideas around with friends, absolutely. I’m more inclined to full-on AUs (e.g., the DBH characters in the Star Wars universe but not interacting with all of the canon SW characters). I tend to lose interest in projects too quickly to sustain crossovers or AUs of significant size.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Absolutely, it's actually my preferred way to write.

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

Starkiller/Juno was a formative one for me.

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

The Skyrim rewrite. I have a solid 25,000-plus words hanging around, but they barely scratch the surface of the canon story, and I don’t play the game anymore, so. It languishes. I occasionally reread the Battle of Whiterun scene I wrote, though, because I do love it v much.

16. What are your writing strengths?

A tightly bound trinity of subtext, showing instead of telling, and descriptions. I always joke I never write text, I only write subtext. Learning how to tell sometimes instead of showing everything has been. a struggle. When I know the characters really well and can hear them clearly, my dialogue’s also excellent.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Follow-through’s the biggest one. I tend to get bored and thus uninspired fairly easily, so I usually need a strict externally imposed deadline or someone (like a coauthor) who’s otherwise waiting on my finishing a given piece for me to push through to the end. Plotting the final quarter of stories tends to give me a lot of trouble if I don’t come up with the ending right away. If I don’t know where I’m aiming, I wander aimlessly before almost inevitably moving on to another project. This is why most of my solo projects are relatively small.

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

Nuclear launch codes. No, seriously, it can work so, so, SO well, in VERY limited, bite-size pieces. Unless the work is intended for readers who are familiar with the languages being used, I prefer to see alternate languages used as flavor text only.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Probably Star Wars? Self-insert territory ahoy 😂

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Am I allowed to say a WIP that most people haven’t seen? No? Probably thermal equilibria, chapter two specifically. The dialogue tickles me every time I reread it.

I tag @druidx, @wamblings, @ltcolonelcarter, @audreycritter, and anyone else who wants to play!

[thelaughtercafe]

Discoveries

Tea Type: Subtly Sweet Tea (Fluff with a sprinkle of mean/mocking teasing)

Potential Triggers: Nothing except suggestive tickling, and speaking of it!

Pairing: Emet-Selch/Reader, eventually Ascians/Reader

Length: 935

Summary: A tickle fic with the Ascians because I couldn’t help myself. Reader is Azem, but they’ll go unnamed. Each Ascian will get their own oneshot, so far it’ll be Emet, Lahabrea, Elidibus and Fandaniel and then I may have a timeskip to an Emet/WoL scene, in the future. I am now caught up with Endwalker but wasn't at the time so apologies if anyone seems ooc. I may rewrite it later on to update it.

“You put in quite a peculiar request at the Bureau of the Architect, I hear.”

You whirled to glare at Elidibus before averting your eyes dismissively, already on the defensive from where you had once been enjoying your afternoon tea in peace.

“Oh? And how would you know such information? All creation matrix are to be private unless otherwise allowed by the creator.”

“Oh come now. You needn’t be so shy. I think it’s adorable .”

Despite the seemingly kind words, they were biting and mocking, thick with judgement.

You opened your mouth hesitantly, trying to think of what to say next when a smooth voice interrupted.

“That’s quite enough mockery Elidibus; I do believe one of Lahabrea’s pets has gotten loose and is seeking to devour the other. A tragedy, to be sure.”

You heard Elidibus scoff before he left without so much as a nod at Emet-Selch. Said Ascian shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Such discourse. Tsk tsk. Very unfitting of the Emissary in our ranks don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to protect me. I could’ve handled him, really.”

Your voice was soft, but only out of anxiety. Emet-Selch was typically the one person you didn’t have to be anxious with, but given he stood up for you that meant he knew exactly what you were being taunted for.

“Please just tell me no-one else knows. Please.”

A beat of silence and you heard him sigh as he joined you on the couch, creating a cup for himself as well.

“…No-one else save the 3 of us are aware, to my knowledge. I already erased it from the records. But; I feel I have the right to ask.”

You knew he would. You tensed expectantly, eyes locked on the now empty saucer and cup on your table.

“…We’re both adults Emet. Please, for all of creation, don’t make me say it aloud. I’m mortified enough as it is.”

“Elidibus is wrong about a lot of things. He wasn’t about this.”

That made you look at him in shock. His eyes and voice were both too gentle to be lying.

“You talked about it together?!”

He nodded, smiling ever so slightly at your shock.

“He meant what he said, you know. His tone came out as such because he was both nervous, and slightly annoyed you weren’t looking at him. I can read the man like a book by now. He knew he messed up which is why he fled. He was blushing darker than you are right now as I pointed out what he was doing. It really is adorable.”

The mischief you were worried about seeing from him jumped out as he tried to clamp down on the grin tugging at his lips.

“If you wanted to be tickled all you had to do was ask, you know. Either of us would’ve been happy to. Lahabrea too.”

You gave him a deadpan look at Lahabrea’s name and he snickered.

“Lahabrea had better not know about this. He’d never let me live it down.”

“Oh come now I’m sure he wouldn’t mind!”

Emet-Selch chirped way too happily for your liking and you groaned.

“…He already knows, doesn’t he?”

He smiled, unflinchingly.

“I may have caught him getting a glance at the book before I could get rid of the evidence so in all likelihood yes, especially given the grin that lit up his face.”

“Kill me now.”

You let your body roll to the side so you could rest against him, hiding your blushing face in his robe.

“I’m fairly certain he’ll take care of it for you ere long. Knowing him, he’ll likely corner you once he has a plan in mind. My assumption is he’ll pretend he doesn’t know until you accuse him yourself.  You know how he is, always keeping the ace in his pocket.”

You risked a glance at him, slightly amused as you began to relax thanks to his nonchalance.

“…Any chance we can teleport him elsewhere for an impromptu vacation? Or maybe you feel like helping me get something embarrassing about him in turn?”

He chuckled at that, shaking his head as he looked down at you from the corner of his eye.

“Sure. I could . But I assure you wielding such information against him would only serve to set him on the warpath against you, and if you think him cruel now in his machinations what he next inflicts will make the prior child’s play in comparison. He may not show it; but he does actually like you, as all in the Covenant do. He just shows it in the most obnoxious way conceivable.”

Emet’s grin turned sharp suddenly.

“Forget tickle machines - I’m quite sure literal tickle monsters would be much harder to contend with, combat prowess or no.”

You tensed up as he brought it up explicitly, pulling back to pout at him.

“Why do you have to say it? You know how flustered I get. Mean.”

He snickered at that before shrugging.

“Not my fault you make it so easy. I propose an idea. Why not choose between the 3 of us? That way you at least won’t be ambushed out of the blue.”

You reeled back in shock at that.

“Who-Who said they’d even want to? Or that you would for that matter?!”

He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance.

“I assure you; I do, as do they. And even should they change their mind, they may decline when we gather to tell them your choice.”

His eyes twinkled in amusement, and he patted your cheek patronizingly.

“Do choose wisely.”

[saibug1022]

Let the Shadows Fall Behind You

Word Count: 1.1k

Taylor (ES MC) and Callum Wyland (Hero MC), Jake McKenzie x Taylor (ES MC)

A/N: Okay. There's gonna be a lot of things in here that don't make sense. That's because this scene takes place in a crossover/sequel I'm starting to plan. But even before I had any semblance of a plot for that I had this scene bouncing around in my head. So, I very much hope you like it

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Taylor hummed as he looked over to where Callum was sitting across the green fire. The taller man was watching him, almost studying him. At first, it was kind of unnerving, especially for such a kind guy, but over time Taylor had gotten used to it. The familiarity of it was even comforting sometimes. He supposed that was what happened when you spent weeks with a person day in and day out. At least, he assumed it was weeks. He wasn’t sure if time was passing the same way on Earth.

The green fire made from Taylor’s newfound powers with the light of the glowing prisms studding the cave walls around them made Callum look like some sort of otherworldly being. Which to be fair, he was. They both were. Yet despite that and despite the fact they were in another dimension, Callum was wearing a literal superhero suit, and Taylor’s eyes turned green when he got pissed off, the whole situation still felt so very human. And yet…

“You’ve barely said a thing for the last three days and you’ve been staring at the fire like it personally offended you,” Callum explained. “All we have left to make a portal home is the Realm Prism and we’re closing in on it. We’re so close but you don’t really seem excited.”

“It’s complicated,” Taylor sighed. Callum chuckled, turning his mask over in his fingers. Taylor’s mask, the one he got from the Vaanti, was sitting next to him on the ground. 

“I mean, I’m an alien superhero who got beat up by my boss, who was also my friend’s dad, after he got juiced up on prism energy,” Callum pointed out. “And then I got sent to another dimension, where I’m apparently from, because said boss blew up. And you’re a being of sentient magic energy that my people worship, but you crashed on earth and became an island only to also give yourself a mortal body which you now permanently inhabit. And that’s not even mentioning the time loop, the other version of yourself, the species that were living on your island, or that my boss’s rival was going to use your power to literally rewrite reality. Our whole lives are complicated.”

“You’re not wrong,” Taylor laughed. He sighed again. Truth be told, he was excited. Excited, relieved, happy, all the positive emotions. This was all he’d wanted since the rooftop when he fused with the rest of Vaanu to save his friends and the rest of the world. But now that they were possibly only days away from getting back…there was something eating at him. Something he’d never really thought about. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” Callum prompted. “Like with the rest of the journey to the Prism?”

“No, I mean when we get back to Earth,” Taylor said. He looked away from Callum and instead studied his own hands like the answer would be written somewhere on his skin. “It’s like you said, before the time loop and before I gave myself form I was basically sentient energy. I didn’t even have a life here, and all the memories of life on Earth were completely fake. Even then, I only have a few of those, all from the year leading up to the trip, and all with Diego. I’m not a real person. I know things but I’ve never actually gone to school or gotten a job or been anywhere other than La Huerta.”

“Well, do you have anything you want to do?” Callum wondered. 

“I don’t know that either,” Taylor admitted. “Maybe actually going to college would be nice?”

“There ya go, that’s something,” Callum smiled. “The good thing about college is you go to school and such but you also learn how to be a person at the same time. And, everyone in college is weird and a disaster, so at least you won’t stick out.”

“You sound like you had a great college experience.” 

“I majored in Communications at Ohio University. I wasn’t exactly a party animal either. But I was around, and trust me I saw enough to know college students are just high schoolers with money and more access to alcohol.” 

“I only knew ten college students and honestly that sounds accurate.”

Taylor and Callum shared a laugh like they had many times before. Sometimes it felt like those laughs were the only things keeping them going. This journey they were on together was dark and hard, but even for a moment, it made the tension in their shoulders lighter. It made the shadows just a little bit brighter. 

But then the moment ended. The laughter faded out and the tension came back. The shadows got dark again. The memories and anxieties returned.

“All of that’s just a dream though,” Taylor sighed. Callum frowned and walked around the fire to sit next to Taylor instead. The flames made his eyes look like they were glowing. 

“Why would that just be a dream?” Callum questioned.

“Because I don’t exist,” Taylor said.

“Huh?”

“Legally I mean,” Taylor elaborated. “Rourke couldn’t find a single thing on me except a birthday which I now know was made up. He even thought my birthplace was La Huerta. And like I said, all my memories are fake. I’m not a real person. I don’t have parents or a family or a birth certificate or a diploma or anything. I don’t even have a last name.”

“Then pick one,” Callum shrugged. 

“Just pick a last name,” Taylor repeated.

“Yeah,” Callum nodded. “I mean, you technically picked Taylor, right? I came through a dimensional portal so my mom just picked me a first name and gave me her last name. People change their names all the time whether it’s GNC people, people who need a fresh start, people getting married, whatever. Pick any last name you want and as soon as we get back and deal with all this stuff and we reunite with everyone I’ll help you figure out all the paperwork myself.”

“Just pick a last name…” Taylor hummed as he thought about it. 

He didn’t even know very many last names. Just the common ones and those of his friends. Maybe he could use Vaanu as a last name? That could work he supposed but it didn’t feel quite right. His eyes darted around aimlessly as his brain searched for inspiration but all he saw were crystals, the cave walls, their masks, and his spear. A smile found its way onto his face as he looked at the beautiful flower tied to the spear, the flower he kept preserved with his powers.

“McKenzie,” Taylor finally said. 

“Mckenzie?” Callum replied.

“That’s the name I pick.”

“Taylor McKenzie, huh? I like it.”

“Yeah…me too.”

[modern-oedipus]

Hey , i just want know are you okey ? Are you alive ? Because youre not been here for a long time and i just wonder . Loveyou <3 <3

Hello! Thank you for checking up on me! I am doing well. I shifted my focus from the online platforms to different priorities, so I am not checking my social media as often, but I am really doing great! I’m also here with good news that I want to accounce while responding to this ask:

I am writing Conflict!

Important parts of previous chapters are being rewritten, polished and edited for a better reading experience. Chapter 20 is on the way!

I have been working on it for last two weeks by now! I wanted to post the new chapter on Norman’s birthday, but reviewing the previous chapters take way longer than I anticipated. I am also adding some author’s notes to update about what I changed in the fic or how I am feeling compared to then-vs-now! I am putting more emphasis on the trigger warnings as well!

Right now I am editing chapter 11. I am directly editing on AO3 and posting whatever progress is done, then I go back to it, so if you check the chapters you may come across to live-time edits! As I explained in detail at the author’s notes of Chapter 1, I don’t aim to edit or rewrite the whole story; doing that would be against the fic’s soul and it wouldn’t feel the same anymore. I’m just doing some reconstruction work, I am trying to keep my writing style as it was back in 2019, add some details and in-depth descriptions of some scenes, explain the little plot holes, fix the formatting issues, etc. I am doing this both to remember the story better before writing Chapter 20 and so on (Chapter 20 is not the final chapter, so I am thinking about giving more regular updates since I am getting my momentum back) and to confront the times I was writing it.

I kept back from announcing it here and just silently edited it, though a reader realized it on first day and commented on Chapter 1 and I felt the happiest to know that they were still here! I am going to reply back to the comments I received within 1 year, as well!

My plan is to finish editing and reviewing all of the chapters 1-19. Then I am going to make a full Google Drive doc with detailed, spoiler-containing Trigger Warning for each chapter. Then I’ll publish Chapter 20. After that, I’ll respond to the comments. I think after all of this long and tedious committed work, I can just keep updating regularly. That’s the plan if it all goes well!

On a good note! I am also adding Chapter Songs! Those are the songs I used to listen while I was writing Conflict. I really thought they are fitting to certain chapters. I didn’t write any chapters with a specific song on my mind, in fact, I discovered those songs for Conflict aesthetic instead, but either way they are really fitting! So I am editing and updating as I go, to the songs I find relevant.

Reconstruction of chapters 1-10 is complete and I am consistently working on the next ones, so if you want please check it out! ❤️

On a side note, I am aware that it has been sooooo long, so I wasn’t really expecting anyone except for a few people I know in-person, to read Conflict again! I mean, I am not even offended or anything, most of us have sort of moved on from hyperfixations we had back in 2019, myself included. But I have my personal reasons to go back to checking Conflict. On the day I started editing, I was telling myself, “It is okay if no one notices. I don’t even want to make an announcement. I’ll just quickly take a tour on AO3.” but I received a comment on it on the morning of it, despite not making a single announcement! It just… made me happy beyonds words can express.

I don’t know if I would go so far in editing/rewriting if I did not KNOW for the fact that, some people are definitely interested! I know that because they went out of their way to let me know! All the comments I have been receiving within this year, all the asks, dm-s, everything summed up and gave me the Courage to keep writing.

So, once again. Thank you. All of you. I’m looking forward to enjoying the ride with you! ❤️

[blueywrites]

I love your turtle dove and the crow series and the world you have built! My heart was in my throat when Mama found them in the loft. And the letter broke my heart and gave me hope at the same time. Then the Mother’s Day blurb was so sweet.

That said, there’s something that’s been bothering me, and it really shouldn’t because I know Eddie has always loved reader. It’s probably because i get jealous easily in real life, but I’m dying to know more about how Eddie lost his virginity. Who was the girl/woman? What were the circumstances? How did he feel about it?

If you don’t want to answer or haven’t really given it much thought, I understand. I think I just like to torture myself. 🤷🏻‍♀️🫣

I'm so happy you've been enjoying the story!! 💙 It was lovely to write that mother's day blurb and just let them be happy for once haha I'm glad you liked it too 🌷

Okay, so. I'll be 100% honest with you here. I rarely, if ever, have regretted anything I've written - plot points, relationships, details, whatever. It all works out in the end. But when I was writing the first chapter of TD&TC, I wanted the smut to be good but also realistic, and my reasoning was that one of them at the very least had to know what they were doing on a basic level for it to work out smoothly. From a social standpoint in regards to the time period and considering the plot and themes of the story, it made the most sense for that to be Eddie. I didn't really see any other way to reasonably explain how he knew what to do (especially going down on her) considering there are no dirty movies or porno mags he could be watching to learn from.

If I were to go back though, I would make them both virgins.

I've known the central plotline of the story from the beginning (I always do when I write something, I'm very much a plotter and not a pantser haha), but I didn't originally plan on writing the interludes back to when they first met. Once I started thinking about that... man, it became very clear that it would make no sense for Eddie to have sex with anyone but Dove. They've been attached at the hip from the beginning, and while I see him being horny and engaging in discussion with the guys and jacking it prob all the time (lol), I just... no longer see a world where he'd actually sleep with someone meaninglessly when Dove is right there. Even if he didn't make a move right away when he was into her, I just don't think he would fuck some other girl in this universe, with the relationship they share, and in this particular social climate.

So, yeah. I put literally no thought into who she was because I didn't wanna think about it either, even back then. Let's actually just pretend, for all intents and purposes, that Eddie lied and just wanted to sound experienced for ego reasons LOL that's the best I can do without actually going back and rewriting it. 💀😂

[averysmolbear]

Because @bnhxwks asked me to answer all the rest of those self ship questions it is time for a very long post and I apologize if it’s annoying. Thank you for enabling me! I also hope I caught all the spelling mistakes.

💌 Reiner doesn’t write anything too flowery but every single words is painstakingly thought out. He will agonize over every word, wanting to get it right. He’ll even rewrite it several times if he has to in order to get it right but in the end, they are the sweetest letters, filled with his thoughts and favorite memories of us.

🍷 Reiner was such a wreck. He was nervous because he wanted our first date to be perfect. We went to a nice restaurant — nothing too fancy — and then took a walk along the waterfront. He even made us stop for ice cream. We stayed out to stargaze a bit (but he stared at me more than anything else) and he made sure to take me home. He even asked before kissing me good night.

😘 Our first kiss was at the end of our first date. He asked for permission first and it was soft and sweet but Reiner was clearly nervous. He kept his hands firmly on my hips the whole time.

😳 Reiner will sneak up behind me and whisper the dirtiest things in my ear while holding my hips and keeping me pressed up against him. He’ll do it when we’re alone or in public. Either way, it gets me every time. The easiest way for me to fluster Reiner is to give him a firm smack on his ass. He blushes every single time.

😍 I knew I fell for Reiner after our first date. (Yes, that soon.) He sent me flowers the next day and showed up with a pint of my favorite ice cream. He tried to be sneaky and leave it at my door but I caught him. He swears he fell for me before he even knew my name. He saw me at the farmer’s market while I was shopping alone and he says he just knew we would end up together.

😴 If we’re sitting on the couch, I’m always cuddled in at Reiner’s side. At some point, he’ll pull me on to his lap though. Sometimes he’ll lay down with his head in my lap while I’m sitting down so I can play with his hair too. If we’re laying down together, I’ll usually lay half on him with my head on Reiner’s chest (he’ll play with my hair or nuzzle his nose in my hair) or we’ll spoon.

🥰 My favorite thing is how he tries so hard to remember the things I like so he can surprise me with them later, like bringing home my favorite cupcakes for no reason other than he saw them and they reminded him of me.

💭 He would probably be thinking about all of the little things he loves about me. Everyone calls him a lovesick puppy for a reason!

💋 He loves to kiss my fingertips and the crook of my neck, depending on if he’s just being sweet or if he’s trying to turn me on. (But that’s only if he’s not kissing my lips.)

{I’m dumb and couldn’t find the emoji} When I’m sad, he’ll hold me and rub my back and let me cry it out. Then he suggests we bake cookies together to try to cheer me up!

💐 Reiner loves when I get him daisies. Mostly because it’s what I got him once for his birthday and he had never had someone get him flowers before so they became his favorite. He loves getting me roses but he’ll often surprise me with stargazer lilies because he knows they’re my favorite.

🎄 Christmas Eve is spent with his family, having dinner and exchanging gifts. We go to my family’s on Christmas Day in the afternoon for an early dinner and gift exchange. But Reiner and I will exchange one gift at midnight on Christmas Eve/Day and then we open any other gifts after getting home from Christmas with my family.

🎁 Reiner is happy with practical gifts but he loves when I make him something, like a scrapbook or photo album. He usually gets me things that he knows I won’t get for myself, like a slightly expensive perfume or a first edition copy of my favorite novel.

🎟️ There’s a reason our movie dates happen at home now. Reiner will get distracted even when he picks the movie. He ends up with his hands under the blanket we’re snuggling under and the next thing either of us know, we’re having sex on the couch. We’ve been kicked out of movie theaters because Reiner can’t keep his hands to himself even in public.

[prosperdemeter2]

So I feel a little dumb because it just clicked that you were the same person who wrote the Rewrite series, Day by Day series, No one knew series etc etc. I have no idea why it never clicked before lol. I’ve read them all, some a few times, left comments on them, I even mentioned how Rewrite was my now top 3 favorite buddie fics on Ao3 on one of the chapters. Obviously read the author name on them all, but still never actually connected the dots until the bts on day by day series I just read ☠️ so now that it has connected I can easily say your my top 3 favorite buddie authors as well!

Anywho, can I humbly submit for day by day either a pov change for Adriana during her and Eddie’s big fight (either the hospital after the accident or his backyard ) or bts of your favorite part in the Day by Day series. Or if I can be greedy and ask for both I will 😅😂 otherwise I am perfectly fine with which ever option you decide to go with!

Oh my god, don’t feel dumb at all. You’re so sweet and I’m so happy you enjoyed all of those series so far! It means so much that you’ve read them and taken the time to comment and the time to bring it up and follow and engage here! I can’t thank you enough for that. It’s crazy to think that people my like my writing that much. 

I really wish I had the energy to give you both tonight gosh sufhsdfh. I hope a BTS is enough? I just finished a run after working and I have dinner on so I figured this is the perfect time to try and answer this. 🙂

This argument. This argument! I wasn’t sure which big argument you would prefer so I’m going to go into the one at the hospital because oh my gooooooood I had some lines in that that I absolutely broke myself writing. It’s directly after the Sunday scene of Buck and Eddie’s fight which I wish I could say I did on purpose but really it just ended up being there. I remember sitting on my couch writing it at, like, ten at night when I had work the next day and this being when I realized that I really needed to make this two parts instead of one. That being said, let’s dive into it. 

The entire time Adriana was at the hospital, she very clearly had a one track mind. And, like Eddie, I wanted us to sort of rationalize it. Her kids had just been in an accident - it makes sense that she would be more worried about them than she would be about anyone else. And it’s important to note, in my opinion, that Adriana wasn’t really forgetting Buck was there out of malice. Her mind literally didn’t go there. It was very much centered around her children, the same way Eddie’s would have been if Chris was in the accident. And Eddie, before the accident, very much falls into this… role that he’s always been placed in with Adriana and Sophia and rushes to comfort her even when he needs comfort himself. He’s the big brother, it’s what he does. 

But he’s clearly not thinking straight. He saw Buck at the scene, he knows how bad he was. Eddie can conceptualize everything that’s happening with the doctors and that them having no news is, for the moment, good news because it means they’re still working. He’s not worried about Henry or Liana and Vince. He was at the scene with them, he knows they’re, for the most part, fine. 

Their argument starts with a misunderstanding and it’s during that confrontation of it that Eddie realizes that Adriana, visibly, doesn’t care at all about the man that saved her children. Adriana dragged him outside to have the confrontation because, like Eddie, she doesn’t like to argue around her children. They were raised in a house where their parents fought loud and they fought long, they’re both products of the same upbringing they just… internalized what happened differently. 

“So you lied.” Adriana set her jaw and glared in his direction. “You lied to me.” 

“I didn’t lie to you!” 

“You did!” 

Realization was like dawn breaking. He froze, his eyes searching for some clue on her that told him he was wrong. Adriana wasn’t selfish, not like this. Perhaps she was worried, and that worry was clouding her judgment. 

But Eddie was so tired of being rational with her. He was so tired of having a thought out, restrained response to whenever Adriana said or did something wrong. He was tired, he was frustrated, and Eddie was very much clouded with fear and worry himself and so he threw rationalization out of the window. “No estaba hablando de Vince.” He said with gritted teeth.

This right here is a big changing point in this series. So far, Eddie has been very passive in how he’s stood up to his family. He left Christmas dinner, he told Adriana to leave, etc. But this frustration had been building up and it all exploded due to a number of reasons, the main one being stress. He’s not okay. His boyfriend isn’t okay. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle being the one on the outside waiting for news that everything is going to go back to normal. And he snaps, the same way we’ve seen Eddie do in canon, only he snaps verbally instead of with physical altercations (re: fight club, baseball bat). And Adriana? She’s not used to it. 

She’s the sort to bait Eddie into a fight but then quickly back down when he decides to fight back. It’s not necessarily that Eddie is passive, more that he doesn’t really see the point in arguing so he ends it before it can really begin by just… walking away. So the moment he snaps back at her, Adriana recoils and tries to fix the situation. 

“What?” She shook her head. “No, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Vince is fine, Liana is getting a cast -.” 

And the next part, oh my god, had I been dreaming about adding in the next part for weeks. 

“I don’t care!” A couple passing by halted, stunned by the crack in his voice. Eddie didn’t yell, as a rule of thumb he didn’t yell. Buck didn’t like it, Chris didn’t like it, Eddie didn’t like it. Yelling didn’t solve a problem. But yell he did, and it ripped out of him like a rawr, Adriana flinching back like he had shot a gun in her face. “I don’t care that Liana is getting a cast! I don’t care that Vince is fine!” 

Adriana pulled herself together quickly, though, far too used to trading him blow for blow. They used to argue all the time when they were children, about stupid things and about meaningful things and about everything in between. It was a side effect of their age, or maybe Eddie had always disliked her the way she disliked him. “You don’t care about your family?” She asked with her chin held high and her eyes flashing in danger. She stepped closer and Eddie didn’t step back, tilting his chin to stare almost defiantly back in her direction. 

“I care about my family!” He was on the verge of tears, he realized, the sting pulling at his eyes like bees. He swallowed them down. Adriana used to make fun of Sophia when she cried when she was angry - crying when you yell really ruins the effect, she had teased. It had just made Sophia cry more. “My family is in there -.” 

"Your family is Vince and Liana!” 

“My family is Buck!” 

Adriana has a lot of gumption. She’s got a lot of gall. And she’s never really had Eddie fight back with her and, if he did, it was never in this manner. He didn’t like yelling and so he usually didn’t do it. She wasn’t used to Eddie getting on her level. 

Moreover, it’s got to sting, right? To have someone yell at you and say they don’t care? Especially when you’re trying to scold them? Adriana was embarrassed, but she was also floored. Eddie is trying very hard to hold on before this, but Adriana confronting him and not accepting his very understandable mistake and, once again, overlooking Buck’s place in his life, sends him over the edge. 

I can’t tell you the amount of times someone has confronted me with something and I’ve had to think about things logically even when I didn’t want to. Where I had to put their emotions ahead of my own even if the situation involved me. I figure Eddie, in this series and in canon, is much the same. So him shouting I don’t care isn’t because he doesn’t actually care that Adriana is worried, it’s that he doesn’t care that she’s angry. He doesn’t care that he accidentally upset her. He’s upset, he’s been on the verge of breaking down since walking into that hospital and, like Sophia points out, it’s bringing up a lot of memories he’d rather keep buried. So he doesn’t care. Because Adriana’s family is going to be fine. Eddie’s family might not ever come back home. 

“You know the guy that was driving the car?” Eddie moved so that he was in her way, forcing her gaze onto his. Her eyes were swimming with tears but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to. The words poured out of him like someone had pulled a stopper from his throat. “I told you not to ask him. And you still did. And because he thinks he’s not worth anything if he’s not useful he agreed. Because he wants you to like him.” 

“I never -.” 

“Shut! Up!” 

Adriana’s mouth hung open, like his rage had stolen her breath. “You have been terrible to us since you found out. And I don’t know what it is, Adri, I really don’t but Buck has done nothing to deserve this… this… disregard from you.” 

“I didn’t think -.” 

“No!” He swiped his hand through the air. “I don’t care what you thought or what you didn’t think! He is in there dying because you didn’t think!” 

“That’s not fair!” Adriana countered. “I wasn’t driving that car!” 

“He was only in the car because you asked!” 

“He agreed -!” 

“Will you stop justifying yourself!” A tear trickled down his cheek without his notice and Eddie swiped it away with a vicious fist. Adriana tracked it with wide, watery eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “I don’t care that mami and papi thought I was the perfect kid. I don’t care that you hate me now. I don’t care that your kid has a broken arm or that your husband is okay. I don’t care that you asked him and he agreed. I don’t care because we got into a goddamn fight this morning because he was worried about your kids. Because he is in there fighting for his life and you don’t have the decency to ask how he is.” 

Adriana doubles down. She’s not used to being the one to say I’m sorry. Usually Eddie will give in first just to stop the argument, or Sophia or Helena would come in to smooth over the edges. She even thinks about it, for a moment, when people start coming outside. She even feels guilty when she realizes Eddie’s crying. Goading someone into an argument doesn’t feel nearly as much as fun as it could when the person starts yelling back, and they’re actually making a point. 

But this is a big moment for Eddie. He’s never argued back with her. She’s been rude and she’s been entitled. She’s shouted things at him and she hasn’t respected him, his relationship, or his authority in his own house. As much as it hurts to have his pain so visible, it’s such a big step from him hiding it inside just to explode outwards later. 

And it all cumulates in the next part: 

“It’s not about the fucking car!” Her shoulders jumped. “Buck had a seizure when we got here. He didn’t know where the fuck he was at the scene. And he still made sure your kids got out of the car safe.” Her own tear blinked out of her eyes, trailing down her cheek and curling over her chin to drip onto the collar of her shirt. “I need you to get something, Adriana.” She didn’t look at him but fine, fine, Eddie would tell her his terms anyway. “I don’t care if he’s okay or not, you’re done.” 

“What?” Her question was small, her eyes flipping open to finally meet his own. 

“You’re done.” Eddie said around a sardonic laugh, shrugging as though the words were stabbing him in the heart. “I’m done. We’re done. I don’t… I love you so much. But I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Eddie -.”

“No! You did this to Shannon. You’ve done this to Buck. I deserve better than this.”

Eddie is rightfully enraged on Buck’s behalf but it’s important to note that he’s mostly hurt on his own. Adriana is his sister. He always believed that, if he needed her, Adriana would put aside their differences and be there for him - largely because he’d do that for her without ever being asked. But he’s come to realize the thing that he always feared to be true - Adriana doesn’t extend him the same kindness and she never will. So while the backdrop of this entire thing is this horrible accident and this gripping fear for whether Buck would be okay or not… the main theme is learning to let go of someone you love. Mourning someone who hasn’t died. Making the decision that you deserve better than the way you’ve been treated. 

Adriana doesn’t even believe him at first - she actually needs to hear it for a second time later on in the chapter for it to really sink in for her that Eddie’s not playing around but setting a hard boundary in place with her

Deciding to leave a family member is incredibly difficult and I haven’t met one person who has gone no-contact with a family member that would tell you that it’s easy. But sometimes it’s necessary. 

[castielmacleod]

I used to feel like Crowley's unrequited love for Dean Winchester was out of character. It was definitely there because it was intentionally written that way. But I always feel like Crowley, unlike Castiel (who was programmed albeit against his will to be a soldier and a follower), would not tolerate being talked down to and dismissed the way Dean did. So I really disliked that part of the show.

But I see you seem to consider Crowley's unrequited love for Dean essential, and would love to hear more of your thoughts on it (of course you don't have to explain yourself, I am just genuinely interested).

Hello! Sure, I’d be happy to. As a bitter Crowleyguy who used to be VERY into Dr*wley I sure do have Thoughts about that whole mess

To start, I think you had an absolutely fair and correct assessment by the way. Crowley should NOT have taken any of that from literally just some guy in jeans. Crowley SHOULD have obliterated him, and if the writers had let him keep more of his early seasons fire and self-respect I know he would have. But I think the very fact that he had canonically kind of fallen to a point where he didn’t or even couldn’t push back as much as we might’ve expected him to is what is so horrifically compelling to me in the first place?

The thing is that I think Crowley being in unrequited love with Dean is abhorrent. It bothers the absolute bloody hell out of me. It represents a tragic an frequently degrading storyline for a canon mlm character. It seriously compromised him, contributed to his depression, and kept him fruitlessly at the Winchesters’ beck and call right up to his suicide, which they pretty much drove him to. Back in the day when I was more tolerant of fanon Dean I used to be a big requited Dr*wley guy because I thought bending Dean to my will and fabricating a version of events where he genuinely loved Crowley back was like, the least Crowley deserved, but I really had the wrong read of it because actually the least Crowley deserves is to be fucking free of Dean for good lol. So if I were to rewrite the series from scratch now I would not even START to go near any of this, or at least not in such a literally horrible and anticlimactic way. But as far as canon goes, I view Crowley’s unrequited love for Dean more or less the same as I view Cas’ unrequited love for Dean. It might be annoying and sad and so very rage inducing but I can’t bring myself to ignore it completely for a couple of reasons.

The first reason is that I tend to love characters who make me sad.. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not the kind of guy who like, ENJOYS it when my faves are miserable or anything. It’s quite the opposite. Crowley’s misery throws me into a searing fury just as easily as it depresses me. But I guess I’m a melancholy person and I just easily get attached to tragic characters who are sad for what I subjectively find to be sympathetic reasons. Gay demon whose one desire is to be truly loved ending up trapped in unrequited gay love is definitely that. The more sympathetic it is for me the more I tend toward exploring it in my writing, headcanons, etc. And I loved Crowley from the first moment I saw him given that he was funny and homosexual and a breath of fresh air but as soon as the show started making me SAD about him, like miserably sad from thee 8x23 into 10x01 onward, that’s when I REALLY latched on. So I actually get the most out of the character when I’m engaging directly with his awful depressive spiral and by extension the Dr*wley situation, in the sense that I’m either venting about it (cathartic) or writing something drawn from personal experience so as to explore the emotion behind it and/or let Crowley come terms with it and move on (also cathartic).

The second reason is that I do find Crowley’s infatuation with Dean very fascinating and revealing from a character analysis perspective, particularly in the way it extends the 8x23 Crowley thesis that he really does just want someone to love him. It says a lot about Crowley and just how desperately freaking lonely he actually is and it’s just. So much. Like post s8 it’s certainly a very different Crowley than the guy we met in s5, and I think there is a strong case to call him ooc in a LOT of ways (most of all the ways in which he was defanged and dumbed down like please 😭 the s12 Lucifer shit I mean GOD………………) but the way I personally understand how we got to his seemingly unconditional love for Dean circa s10 is that it was very much a result of the botched curing ritual. That event permanently rewired something in his head like for real. He never went back to normal after the human blood and whether that was shoddy writing or because it actually changed him to be more open and outwardly emotional, I don’t know, but I think the latter could be compelling. He tried to use Dean for his own purposes but then accidentally got attached to him and went on to spend SIX MONTHS. In trashy American dives, just to have Dean beside him. And as I’ve indicated my Dr*wley warrior days are so far behind me but I won’t be so disingenuous to say they didn’t genuinely connect on some level while Dean was a demon… they shared a room and called each other pet names and shared personal stories and had sex and like. Crowley was in love with him. He proposed to him, in total earnest. To me it’s like he truly projected this Hallmark romance over top of what was going on between them and I just find that so devastating, but also. Very humanising. If that makes sense.

In my assessment the Dr*wley break up only made Crowley’s loneliness worse because now he had a fresh memory of what he was missing AND had a specific face to miss, but to me it wasn’t…. actually about Dean himself. It wasn’t so much Dean as it was the concept of Having Someone that Crowley just could not move past. A friend, a boyfriend, a family member, just….. someone. I don’t even think the “summer of love” was about Dean himself like I genuinely think Dean could have been anyone. It’s not that there was anything special about him, it’s just that I think Crowley was in such an affected state in s9 (i.e. post-ritual) that I think he would have imprinted on anyone he spent enough time with, and that just ended up being Dean. And that break up leads directly into Crowley letting Rowena into his court and trying so sincerely with Amara in a familial sense, and then trying to reconnect with Cas in at LEAST a friendship sense. He continued to help the Winchesters, paying special attention to Dean. But all of these people (with perhaps Cas as the barest exception) outright rejected him in some way, sometimes over and over no matter what he did for them, and it drove him suicidal…. that’s another post entirely. But my point is that Dr*wley is a watershed in Crowley’s post-8x23 “arc” (too strong a word for the amount of non-writing that was happening with this character but you know what I mean) that sets the stage for understanding his frame of mind in his last 3 seasons. It’s the first in a long series of rejections that will eventually lead to Crowley killing himself. And trust me I fully recognise how demeaning and terrible this all is for the character and how pathetic the writers made him and it IS infuriating but at the same time the sheer brutal tragedy of it is just. Man. I really can’t get over it.

Anyway, I’ll reiterate that this is all my personal interpretation, I don’t really have citations or receipts on hand, it’s just how this particular canon arc of Crowley’s has settled into my head in a way that makes sense to me. Essentially everything in the paragraphs above can be boiled down to the following: I can’t help but acknowledge Dr*wley and consider it essential to examinations of canon Crowley at least because I think it’s critical to understanding so much of his character motivation from s10 on, and also because I just find it so cathartic to rant about or to let Crowley recover from it in my own writing. That’s kind of that!

If I haven’t already bored you to tears then I also have some recent semi-related thoughts on 12x23 and Crowley in a post-8x23 landscape in general that you might be further interested in here.

[apatchedupdoll]

There’s a lot on Tumblr that I didn’t know I needed in my life. It gets distracting, but then sometimes it flares me up into wanting to make more. It drives me to want to make, either the art style, the ideas, the stories, or something else that makes me want to create. Even if it’s not drawing it could be writing or something else. That being said! Here’s todays art dump <3

This is pretty much finished, I may add some detail and touches later, but so far I’m happy with it.

The Komoraku or whatever I’m gonna call it is also going okay. I’ve colored everything, I just need to start adding detail, maybe a little more color differations but it seems to be going on fine. I’ll probably finish this tonight after I work.

Oh look! Turtle ocs? Nah it couldn’t be. Totally not a bunch of characters I made for the Prisoner’s Bale story. But seriously this is a lot of fun. This is pretty much the first iteration of the family so things could massively change before anything is set in stone. I’ve already changed Tobi’s age like 3 times already. I’m not totally convinced by Sophie’s design and Alex’s patters need some work for sure. There are a few other things I’m thinking about but you’ll have to wait for those changes to find out.

So why am I showing off the characters of Prisoner’s Bale? Well if I haven’t said or made it clear in my last posts (idk man sometimes I don’t make things easy) I’ve decided I’m going to make a comic for the story. Unlike Oh, Where Have You Been Brother? this one will be thought out very extensively. Think of this as sharpening my blade before I even try the Mother’s Land comic. ‘But wait, if you’re making two stories for rottmnt, then why are you making something that doesn’t relate at all?’ I hear you ask curiously while trying to get the cookie jar from the top of the fridge while I start to monologue. Ah, well I really like rottmnt and (as much as I’m happy we’re getting a new movie) I really don’t want to let it go just yet. I find fanfictions are the perfect way to help skills develop. If you’ve seen my Oh, Where Have You Been Brother? you may notice my writing skills are shit. I’ve also realized I tend to write myself into corners without realizing it before the last minute and have to rewrite almost everything, in fact I had a plan and when I posted the latest chapter I realized, oh wait oh shit fuck that means that this won’t work so that means oh god oh fuck shit fuck! I’ll let you guess what I fucked up lol. The point is I’m using my love of TMNT to help me develop better skills for projects that don’t need and can’t have the crutches fanfictions give. Does that mean all TMNT fanfictions do this? No, but this is what I use it for. I just feel like acknowledging it is good and something I shouldn’t be ashamed of.

So that’s my ramble. I hope y’all like the art. Maybe you found something useful and relatable hehehe. Oh and chapter 5 of OWHYBB is on its way. I can see it being finished around Thursday, but spring break is also over tomorrow so bleh! Things will def slow down when writing, still will have daily art uploads. Have a good day! I hope y’all remember not to eat too many cookies!

[creativepawsworld]

Please bear with me because I'm curious. Rain, Metal, Space, Summer, & Winter, on the Writer ask. I hope you are/had a lovely day.

I’m happy to answer any question you may have :) 

As per game though: 

Rain: Have you ever made yourself cry with your own writing? If so, what was it? 

I have made myself cry writing part 23 of Silence. It’s a chapter where the main character Ana finds out about her brother and with a mixture of sad music and thoughts of my own brother, I cried. I tried to convey how I would feel waking up and finding out my only sibling, best friend was gone. So yeah I made myself cry. 

Metal: What’s the hardest part of writing for you? 

For me it’s trying to write everything I want to write in a chapter but not make it boring. I find it hard finding different ways to describe similar parts so I spend most of my time on Google trying to find other words that mean the same thing. So it makes writing pretty hard for me. I wish I was a human dictionary but alas I am not. 

Space: Where’s your favourite place to write? 

In my living room. I have to be comfortable writing, so I will have pillows against my back, blankets over my legs and the computer either on the arm of the sofa or on my lap. 

Summer: How do you know when you need a break from writing? 

For me personally I know I need a break when I am stuck rewriting the same chapter of a story for days and I just cant get happy with it. Which makes me grumpy. 

When this happens I get consumed with writing and will sit in front of the screen all day not getting anywhere which isn’t good for anybody let’s be honest. So if this happens I will take a few days break for sanity reasons. 

Winter: Have you ever written a story based on a holiday? If yes which holiday was it for and what was it like?

I have written a one shot based around the Christmas which is holiday. That’s what this question means right lol? Sorry I do talk to myself a lot. 

If it is yes I have written a Christmas One Shot, it’s called The Christmas Bauble and it’s a Cillian Murphy one shot where the reader and Cillian spend there first Christmas together and the reader is given a very special bauble for the tree. 

Sorry I am also trying not to give anything as I write this in case someone who hasn’t read my work wants to read my stuff lol. 

Thank you so much for the asks, I really do love doing things like this so please do not worry about asking to much! 

I hope I answered the questions well for you if not just ask again and I will be more than happy to respond. 

I also hope you have a lovely or had a lovely day xx

[thekimspoblog]

Excerpt from "Sheepdog" Chapter 12: "Bandersnatch"

Garnet continued to unload instrument cases from the tall trunk. One began to slip from her hands, so Kim jumped forward to catch it.

“Thank you”

“No trouble. Do you mind if I ask what all this is for?”

“Band practice. Just a hobby my friends and I do here after hours” Garnet explained as she plugged her electric guitar into the amplifier and began to tune up.

She played a few bars of something mellow and groovy. Kim couldn’t help but tap her foot.

“You’re free to join in, if you want. Our fiddle player isn’t here today”

“I don’t think I can help you with that, sorry,” Kim replied, “I used to know how to play the cello. But that was years and years ago. I haven’t had any practice since junior high. I’m probably super rusty”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“It’s a beautiful instrument. I only stopped because of a scheduling conflict. I figured if I had to walk home from school, I should pick a less cumbersome hobby”

“And you didn’t have anyone to help you carry that weight?”

Kim caught herself smiling, “Not back then? No. I mean nobody has good memories of middle school, right? Back then, I felt like I had to take on everything myself…” her face fell again, “But it’s not going to work. I told a stupid lie, and now our hands will never be clean. Frankly, I’m perturbed by how readily he forgives me for everything. Even after we promised we weren’t going to keep things from eachother. He thinks that all that matters is that we make eachother happy, but who cares if I’m happy?! We’re not the good guys, if we can just plow ahead as if we deserve the world on a platter. We can’t help being predators, but at least alone it’s manageable. Together, though? I just don’t want him to get hurt, and someone always does, because our love is poisonous!”

“Whoa!” Garnet interrupted her rant, “Hold the phone! Now give the phone to me… It sounds like you’ve really been through the wringer. But love is not poisonous. Where did you learn to talk like that?”

“It’s not my fault, apparently. If the sales pitch is to be believed, I was raised by wolves. I’m really trying in earnest to get my head around all of this, but it still feels like a fever dream. Some moments of my childhood - my mom - are so vivid, I’m sure they made me who I am. But if I’m just a fictional character, then I’m only a few years old, and everything before that was just a mirage. I was sitting on my back porch in late spring. I don’t know how young I was; I think it was the condo. But I said something about how I was sure my life was a movie and I was destined for greater things, and my dad told me that everyone felt that way, that’s why we watch movies, but I shouldn’t waste my life chasing invisible dragons. That I wasn’t special. I remember the way my heart broke, but I felt closer to the rest of humanity, and closer to… If that moment never happened…” Kim sighed, “This is such a paradox!”

“I guess it’s not that weird,” she continued in the next breath, “We rewrite our memories all the time for what suits us in the present. Do you know Dolores Abernathy?”

Garnet shook her head while listening intently.

“She said she went through the same thing with her father. She had to decide that even if they weren’t actually blood-related, even if she was made before him, her feelings were real. I can accept this acid trip, because on some gut level this all feels familiar. But… Dogs?! Dolores didn’t speak highly of the people writing her story either, but at least they were human! Was Rita just showing that to mess with me, or is this more common than I think? What show are you from? What species is directing that?”

“My writers are human and so are yours. The fabric of this reality is woven in metaphor. I know for a fact that Rita can’t control their appearance. If they looked like dogs to you, I’m sure there’s a reason. That, or it’s an inside joke, which in this case, was all it was”

“Right… You wouldn’t happen to know the way out of here, would you?” Kim asked the unreadable face behind the visor, “I’ve been looking, and I didn’t see a single exit sign. It’s really a fire hazard”

Garnet refused to let the subject be changed. “Two people today have told you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened. I know that if I do the same, you’ll only be more determined to reject this advice”

“I don’t mean to be glib, but is everyone who works for this organization psychic?”

“No, but everyone has some level of intuition. I’m working towards a license as a couples therapist, actually. But yes, my magical powers allow me to predict the most probable futures, and it comes in handy in my chosen profession”

“That’s fair, I suppose. In that case maybe you can help me”

“You are the only expert on your feelings. On your experience. I believe in the power a marriage can bring, but if you’re only together because someone else is telling you to be, it’s not going to work. Ignoring a problem never solved anything. You need to listen to your own moral compass, and move forward accordingly”

“I feel like I already tried that!” Kim objected, “I feel like I was pretty clear about what I wanted, and I was told to my face that that wasn’t allowed”

“Rita… right. Listen, if this is what you need to feel safe, I’ll back your first choice as the right one. And if Rita doesn’t like it, she’ll have to go through me; I’m not under her silly contract”

“I… It’s hard to do the right thing when I know I’m signing myself up to be miserable. Do you think that makes me a coward? Meanwhile, I’m being told I’m a coward if I run away”

“It’s not about whether you stay or run away from him. It’s about whether you’re running from the truth. There’s nothing cowardly about leaving an unhealthy relationship. Leaving your home, reinventing yourself as a lone being, accepting that the good memories have been tainted by the bad, and then knowing that all that progress is put at risk if they show back up again. It can seem like an insurmountable task. But it will be worth it all the day you realize that you weren’t really living back then, and now you are”

“Were we really that unhealthy though? I’ve had clients too, who were escaping abuse. And it didn’t feel like that with Jimmy. I felt more alive with him keeping me company. I felt safe - external threats notwithstanding - having someone to look over my shoulder”

“I see… You said he has a problem of lying to you?”

“Eh, he did. But actually… not recently!” Kim said, realizing it for herself, “Not since we got married… He kept his promise”

“Hmm. Has he ever hit you?”

“I hit him!”

“Hmm.” Garnet gave a second pensive, clinical grunt. “Do you sometimes think that your life would be better if you had never met him?”

“Of course not! I mean… maybe? No. Even if it’s over, I don’t regret the time we spent together. Ackerman did get to keep his house, afterall. We kept Huell out of jail… I’m mostly sure that was for the greater good”

“Huell?” Garnet raised her eyebrow.

“It’s not important. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in here and spill my guts all over you. I can write a check if you want to count this as a session”

“Don’t worry about it! Consider it a free consultation. You might not know it, but you actually helped me with something I needed to talk my way through anyway”

The rolling trunk was finally empty once Kim set the duffle bag full of electronics and wires on the ground. “In that case, you’re welcome. I’m glad we could help eachother out with our…” she facepalmed as she realized the bad pun she’d walked right into.

Garnet reached her hand into the broken vending machine and retrieved two colas. As the pair relaxed against the wall, she clanked the rim of her can against Kim’s in a mock-toast to a job well done.

“Thanks! Can I ask you one more question then?”

“You may”

“Are you able to see where Rita’s version of the story leads me? I only got as far as the part where I rescued Iris from Lalo. And then I got separated from Mike while exploring this tunnel. The timelines merged when Rita explained everything. Before that, I was packing my things in my car when her guards grabbed me. I signed the damn contract. I guess when I signed away my rights, Vice and Peter’s story ended there, but what comes next? I assume I have to return to daylight some time”

“Give me a minute to think” Garnet took a sip of her soda and furrowed her brow. “Well it’s not the fairytale ending she’s promising”

“No duh!” Kim scoffed, “I don’t need to be psychic to tell you that”

“You live in relative comfort and safety in Michigan, for the first six years of your daughter’s life. You’re too busy drafting to be bored. You want to celebrate when the constitution is finally complete, but you’ll realize that all you feel is empty. Unresolved issues surrounding the death of your husband’s brother begin to surface. Little similarities he won’t want to admit he’s noticed, ways you remind him of the family he thought he’d buried. Resentments start to fester; you’ll both feel like the other one is trying to control you. On a whim, he’ll bring home a junkyard dog - Marco - as a petty swipe against being the only male in the house. The dog will be poorly trained; he’ll snarl at you and bite the au pair. You’ll talk about getting divorced, but you won’t. Instead you’ll get the spark back by conning some bar patrons. That’s how it’ll start. At the last moment, you’ll decide you’re sick of taking orders from Rita, and a plan she’s been working on since the beginning - a design to assassinate five Supreme Court justices on the same day - is something you two will get the bright idea to handle on your own. You got cocky!

The both of you are sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. You spend the rest of your lives only a few miles away from eachother, but in separate facilities, unable to speak to eachother. Iris and her baby sister follow the au pair back to her home in Mongolia, and life only gets worse for them from there. Your daughter grows up to resent you. Although if I’m being honest, I don’t see a timeline where she doesn’t grow up to resent you. It seems like an inevitable hazard of the occupation. Eventually, Rita will try to conquer the East as well. She’ll be expecting Iris to fulfill her destiny by killing and defeating her. She won’t expect Iris to think outside of the cycle of violence, nor will she be expecting that by the time Iris confronts her, she will no longer be choosing to live as a girl. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this yet, but Rita is terrified of non-binary people. People who don’t fit in her paradigm are people she can’t control”

“But wait,” Kim held her hand up, “Rita thinks Iris is somehow destined to overthrow her? Then why does she want so badly for her to be born?”

“Rita thinks she’s here to reign in hell. She’s a necessary evil, but karma dictates that eventually someone has to defeat her. She wants to be stopped. The idea that she’ll spread herself out indefinitely? Arguably that scares her even more than non-binary people. I don’t think I agree though. You don’t need to stick around on her account. She thinks she needs you and your daughter, but if Rita knows that her ideology can be defeated, then on some level she must already know the ways she’s wrong. If she thinks she needs Iris to stop her, then I believe she’s capable of stopping herself”

“What would you do?” Kim sighed, “Hmm? If you were in my shoes? Tell me the truth”

Garnet answered slowly and thoughtfully; “The truth is… I love violence. Action. Ideology in conflict. I love being a cartoon, and I love knowing I’m strong enough to punch a mountain in half. There are some truly dastardly people out there, who would tear me apart if they could. If I didn’t have the imagination to see myself beating them, I wouldn’t have room to breathe; I couldn’t be myself. I feel safer knowing that the only person strong enough to hurt me is me, because I’m not afraid of myself. Don’t get me wrong; a lot of my friends struggle with that part, and they think I don’t; I do. Mistakes happen and even I can’t know everything. But then I take a deep breath and admire the clouds in the sky, and I remind myself that that’s not going to happen. I have a tendency to overthink, but why would I want to hurt myself? Ruby would never hurt Sapphire, and Sapphire would never hurt Ruby. And as long as I treat myself with the care I think other people deserve, everything’s gonna be ok in the end”

“And what happens if I stick with the other plan? The… dog-gods’ plan?”

The amazonian responded by leaning down and planting a sparkling kiss on her brow. She did it with the benevolent confidence of the good witch of the north.

Kim’s blue eyes opened dreamily, and it took a moment before her thousand-yard stare adjusted back to a stern look at her own reflection in Garnet’s shades. “A war is coming. It may be the case that unless malicious people are killed, innocent people will die. It’s a trolley problem; I get that much. But that’s not why I’m reluctant! I got into the Law because I cared about uncovering the truth. If I continue how I’ve been going, if the lies just continue to pile up, it’s going to tear me and Jimmy apart from the inside anyway. I still miss him every day… but I know what I have to do now”