#going insane all over them again. 2018 me would be proud of me now

[miloicy]

prologue adeuce is juban flavored

what does this mean? that's for you guys to decipher

audio is from a3 mankai stage song, handcuff or tejou

[yellowocaballero]

Hey wouldn’t it be funny if I wrote a crossover between canon and the roleswap AU.

So I did <3. There’s no reason for this to exist, I was just bored and self-indulgent and amused myself by thinking about how fucking insane the Space Cadet team has to be in comparison to canon. This takes place at S4 Canon!Jon’s time, and basically between chapters 2 and 3 of solitaire. It is not canon. Do not think too hard about it. Enjoy. Story under the cut. 

“Yes, in almost every way.” Jon wiped his mouth with a napkin, balling it up and dropping it on the table. “Jonathan Sims, thirty one years old, Aquarius. Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. The Archivist.” He paused a beat, uncertain of how to broach this. “I think Helen may have deposited me in an alternate dimension? Best case scenario.”

Everybody stared at him blankly. 

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly. 

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly. 

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Jon woke up at his desk, which was so common that it was somewhat pathetic. 

Not that a lot of things weren’t pathetic about Jon, but seeing as he no longer technically had anywhere to live he’d give himself a pass. Or was it pathetic to be homeless too? Jon felt strongly as if it was, but he was working on the judgemental thing. Martin had always -

Martin. Jon blinked blearily at his empty desk, scrubbing a little at the sleep that had accumulated in the corner of his eyes. Right. Speaking of pathetic. Jon didn’t like admitting that Martin was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before he went to bed, but he was working on being more honest with himself. Denial about the situation didn’t do anyone any favors. Denial was what made him start stalking and hunting people like - like some sort of awful predator. No more denial. Jon knew who he was, and he knew what he was, and he was going to try and be as good a person as he can be despite it. It was the least he could do. 

Wait. Why was his desk empty?

It wasn’t completely empty. There was a laptop on the center of it, and some assorted papers stuck haphazardly underneath. The usual recorder was tucked into the corner, clicked off. He swiped his hand over the trackpad of his laptop, quickly logging in, and instead of seeing his usual research or theory maps, he saw...a video game?

Jon squinted at the video game. What was The Sims?

He looked around his office, well-lit with the harsh fluorescent lights. It was his office, complete with the couch on the far wall that Daisy had taken to napping on and the two walls of metal shelving that held filling boxes and collections of tapes. Several filing cabinets were lined up behind Jon, holding his favorite statements. Organized by Entity. He was quite proud of it. 

But the Statements seemed to be gone. Some loose papers were always scattered around, slipping out of boxes or sitting in haphazard piles weighed down by tape recorders. None of them were there. Basira must have taken them. Jon stood up, moving around the desk to pull out a box and peer inside. Empty. 

Some part of Jon’s brain, growing louder every day, wailed and gnashed its teeth that someone had stolen his Statements, his knowledge. Most of Jon was just worried over what Basira could possibly be doing with them. 

Unconsciously, Jon’s hand drifted down to his stomach. It was purely a habit, of course - the hunger never gave him stomach pains. He was so hungry all the time, he could barely feel it anymore. 

The Statements were all gone.

Was Basira trying to starve him out…?

Jon shook himself. She wouldn’t - well, she wouldn’t go behind his back to do it. She knew that he’d just start preying on people -

His life had gotten so pathetic. 

A loud crash and a yell echoed from the other side of the door, and Jon recognized Melanie’s voice. He winced, and decided to stay in his office for the time being. Best to stay out of her way. She always reacted somewhat explosively to him -

Then the faint, muffled tones of Martin’s voice echoed through the door, and Jon forgot all hesitation as he burst out of his office. 

The bullpen was just slightly different from where Jon had seen it last - the desks arranged differently, different detritus scattered around, no sleeping bags or hair dryers - but he wasn’t paying attention to any of that. He was only paying attention to Martin, who was sitting at his desk as easy as you please. He was smiling. 

Jon hadn’t seen Martin smile in so long.

He also hadn’t seen Martin wear those adorable little sweatervests in so long, but that wasn’t important right now. Jon cried out softly, like he had been punched - he did feel as if he had been punched, it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation - and Martin turned slightly in his chair to look at him. He smiled when he saw Jon, so kind and happy and Martin, and Jon felt like he was dying at the sight of Martin just smiling, just looking at him. 

“Look, you don’t need to worry about me,” Martin was saying, to an unamused and remarkably composed Melanie. He held up a large combat knife, the metal glinting off the fluorescent lights. “Jon likes it.”

“See, it’s not you I’m worried about,” Melanie said, arms crossed. She was dressed - in her jeans and green flannel, like she used to. Her hair looked clean. The crop top, cut-off shorts, and fishnets, that Jon hadn’t seen her take off in the last month, where - “It’s poor Jon. He’s too desperate for affection to stand up for himself.”

“Jon, you okay?” Tim asked, sitting behind Martin and sipping a margarita. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That was when Jon - hungry, tired, hallucinating - felt his legs give out. It was just in time, too. He collapsed to the ground just as Martin threw the knife, sending it whistling where his head had been half a second ago. 

Then he hit his head on the floor, and blissfully fainted. 

****

“ - she’s not his mother, it’s not Georgie’s job to make sure he eats.”

“It’s because Daisy isn’t here.” That was Basira’s voice, almost mournful. “Daisy always used to remind him to eat.”

“How did this guy make it to thirty again?” An unfamiliar voice asked. 

“If it wasn’t for this ragtag bunch of lesbians, I would have killed him months ago,” Tim said, then paused a beat. “What? I’m owning up to my mistakes.”

“Remind me to give you a sticker later,” Melanie said dryly. 

Jon opened his eyes, to see five faces crowded in front of him. They were all bending over him, identical expressions of mild intrigue on their faces as they bickered with each other. Martin looked very, very mildly concerned, as Melanie and Basira just looked exasperated. Tim - and the woman - who was the woman?

Instinctually, Jon reached out with his mind and sought the answer. But it was as if he was reaching with a limb that had been cut off. No, a limb that had never existed. Dazed, Jon lifted his real hand, if only to make sure that he could still move - and found himself staring at an unmarred, smooth, healthy hand. 

“Martin didn’t cut it off,” the woman said helpfully. She had a thick mane of curly brown hair, and brown skin a similar shade to his. She was holding a granola bar, and she easily stuffed it in his outstretched hand. “If that was a concern or anything. When’s the last time you ate, Jon?”

The question spent a spike of anxiety through him, Jon instantly interpreting it as an accusation. The granola bar wasn’t going to do anything. Of course he was hungry, he’s always hungry - 

Jon wasn’t hungry. 

Jon sat up, letting the assorted people, both alive and dead, step away. He mechanically unwrapped the granola bar and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing lethargically. It didn’t taste like sawdust and cement. It tasted like salt, and nuts. 

He swallowed the granola bar, forming a hypothesis. He looked at Basira, who at least was the most familiar here. It galled him even having to ask, not just knowing, but -  “What year is it?”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “If you hit your head we’re taking you to C&E. We can’t afford for you to get any stupider, Jon.”

“Your concern is noted,” Jon said, strained. 

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s a concussion victim,” Melanie scolded. She smiled at Jon - hideously novel. “It’s 2018. I’m calling Georgie and getting you home, you’re useless to us with a brain injury.”

He no longer had a hypothesis. Jon shook his head mutely. The last person Jon wanted to field questions from was Georgie. “I’m fine,” Jon said hoarsely. “I think I just need to - lie down a bit.” And not look at Tim. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and was still slurping his margarita obnoxiously. He was leaning against a desk, somewhat heavily. “I’ll be fine.”

Everybody looked at each other, then shrugged. Melanie reached down and helped him up, gently pushing him towards the couch set up in the corner of the bullpen, and he found himself stumbling towards it and lying down. Martin loudly offered to nurse him back to health, which incentivized Basira and Melanie to quickly push him inside the recording room and lock the door for...some reason. Jon wanted to go talk to Martin, figure everything out with him. But he didn’t - paralyzed, or maybe just frightened, or maybe just very tired. 

The knife he had thrown was still lying on the floor, somehow innocently. The woman picked it up, inspecting it closely, and sighed. 

“There is something off about that guy.”

“None of them are ever going to believe you, Sash,” Tim said dully, flipping through a brightly colored magazine on his desk. Jon’s breath caught in his throat. “Melanie thinks it’s freakier if you haven’t stabbed anyone.”

This was it. This was when Tim would say, ‘Everybody wants to stab Jon’, or something. It’d be fair. If this was a dream, a fantasy of dead friends, then that’s what he would say. But he didn’t. Tim - strangely small, strangely gaunt, with hollow cheeks that reminded Jon a little of Daisy - didn’t look up at Sasha, flipping through his magazine, and Sasha avoided eye contact with him. She looked at Jon instead, from where he was lying on the couch, and gave him a strained smile. 

Jon found the courage to speak to her. It should have felt familiar, like Sasha, but nothing about her was familiar. He had listened to her tapes a dozen times, any scrap of her voice he could find, but - well, everybody sounded different on the tapes. “Sasha. Can you get me my phone? And a...Statement?”

Sasha brightened enthusiastically. “You want a Statement? Say no more, Jon, I’ll hook you up. Nice to see somebody taking an interest. Let’s keep this between you and me, okay?”

“What…?”

But she had already disappeared into his office, and the faint sounds of banging echoed throughout the room. Melanie and Basira were standing in the kitchenette, chatting lowly, Basira occasionally laughing at something Melanie said. 

Jon wondered where Daisy was, and instinctively tried to reach again before hitting that wall. He gritted his teeth, head still swimming. 

The most important thing was figuring out if this place was dangerous or not. Wherever he was, whatever was going on, he had to discern if it was a danger. Could this have anything to do with an unknown ritual? No, how could it? Elias? He wouldn’t put any of this past Elias. 

With a twist in his gut Jon remembered the cannibal priest’s Statement. Any suspicion of unreality, any feeling as if things were not as they should be...or was this a pleasant, Lotus Eater’s dream instead? If that was true, would Martin be throwing knives at him?

“Here you go! First one I saw on your desk.”

Jon sat up, mutely taking the paper and phone Sasha held out to him. It wasn’t his mobile - it was much nicer and sleeker than his own battered thing - but he had to assume it was Jon’s. He took the Statement too, scanning it quickly. 

Of course, of course. It was Anya Villete’s. Jon thought about this one frequently, captured by the prospect of multiple realities. Not worth the danger of exploring, but there was an intoxicating element of danger. Maybe the Jon that these people thought they were talking to had been reading it, and accidentally triggered something - 

“What did I say!”

Before Jon could react, the paper was unceremoniously ripped from his hands. Jon cried out helplessly, only to see Melanie standing in front of him with an unamused expression and his lifeline in her uncaring fists. 

“We’ve been over this,” Melanie scolded - scolded? “No statements, they’re bad for your tummy.” She frowned at Sasha, who didn’t seem very guilty. “And I told you to stop enabling him. He’s already sick, and you know these things upset him.”

“I’m gathering data,” Sasha said cheerfully. “Something weird was happening in his eyes when he was reading that Statement. Give it back, I need to record it.”

“Can I have that back, please?” Jon asked planatively. “I need it.”

“You do not.” Melanie folded up the statement tightly, shoving it in her jeans and ignoring Jon’s cry of despair. “If you’re feeling under-stimulated, go play knife monopoly with Martin. Otherwise relax and make sure you aren’t going to faint again.”

“I’m not going to -”

“I will call Georgie,” Melanie threatened, and Jon clicked his mouth shut. Melanie nodded, satisfied in having won the argument. If it was even an argument. “Sasha, if you let Jon find another Statement I will be locking the library and giving the key to Martin.”

“Yes, boss,” Sasha said, depressed. 

“Tim, you’re with me, we need to design our plan of attack for chasing down Daisy,” Melanie barked, and Tim straightened in his seat. Jon saw for the first time that there was a folded up cane on his desk. “I need your dumb fear demon powers.”

“That’s not how they -” Tim started, but at Melanie’s look he quailed. “Yeah, boss.”

“Great.” Melanie folded her arms, frowning down at Jon, and at the receiving end of the look Jon found himself quailing too. “If you leave the Archives to do anything other than go to the bathroom the rest of the day, I will tell Georgie that you were exerting yourself while sick again. And she will call you a poor little dear and give you lots of hugs and lots of soup. You will hate it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, boss,” Jon said, depressed. 

“Good. I need to go psychologically torment more people, I’ll be in the library. Tim!” She snapped her fingers, and strode off to the library as Tim scrambled up and limped after her. 

Jon watched her go dazedly as the library door clicked shut behind her. Sasha sighed and went back to her desk, cracking open the thick books on the top and relaxing. They weren’t even research books, just nonfiction about the Mayflower. Basira was back at her desk too, this time with her chin resting on her arms folded on the desk as she watched a...movie. Was that a romcom? 

This was dangerous. The situation was dangerous, doubtless the plot of some force or another that hated Jon personally and wanted him to suffer. He had to do some research, find out what was going on, track down Elias and find his power and dig into that source of infinite knowledge lying dormant in his mind, uproot every terrifying thing that hated him and shake them down for answers.

But he was more scared of Melanie. Just because she didn’t seem to have any knives on her didn’t mean that it was the case. Unless Martin had them all. So Jon lay back on the couch, rotely pressed in the passcode to his phone, and idly opened up the internet browser in complete comfort and relaxation. 

The couch was so comfortable and soft, in fact, that Jon soon fell asleep. Easy and smooth, as if he really was still a human, who needed sleep at all.

And when Jon dreamed, he dreamed of blissful and restful nothing. 

******

He woke up to someone shaking his shoulder, and Jon screamed himself awake as his eyes flew open. 

But it wasn’t anybody dangerous, or anything willing to hurt him. It was just - Basira. Just Basira. Jon exhaled in relief, ignoring Basira’s incredulous expression. 

“It’s five, we’re heading out. You feeling well enough for pub night, mate?”

They were going home. The strangeness registered first, the fact that Sasha was shrugging on a jacket and Melanie was stuffing a laptop in a backpack, before Jon remembered where he was. Or where he wasn’t. He mustered a faint smile for Basira, but judging from her frown it came out closer to a grimace. 

Pub night. They were going out for drinks, then going to their own flats. Eating dinner. Sleeping. Waking up the next morning, then heading off to work. The mundanity boggled. 

Maybe it was a Lotus Eater, Jon thought, dazed. A world where there were no Entities, no fears or harm. Where everybody was human, and happy. 

Maybe. He hadn’t actually been allowed to look at any of the Statements, so he didn’t actually know. He couldn’t imagine that this group would be so casual if the Statements really were true. 

Part of him wanted to beg off, curl up and sleep in document storage so he wouldn’t have to interact with these people for any longer. He was out of practice: these days he rarely had long conversations with anybody who wasn’t Daisy, and he hadn’t seen Daisy all day. Basira exchanged a few curt sentences with him each day. Melanie...cried and screamed, a lot. Not exactly conducive to social skills. 

  Sasha’s face was buried in a book, not even looking up as she navigated the desks. Tim was talking a patient Melanie’s ear off about Nietzche. 

“I think I can make it,” Jon found himself saying. “Just a pint.”

Besides, he had the feeling that if he curled up in document storage Georgie would...be mad at him. Or something. They were flatmates? Or something?

They walked out the door in a herd, talking and laughing. Jon found himself hanging in the back of the group, next to Sasha. She wasn’t looking up from her book, so Jon felt safe in staring unabashedly at Tim. He was using a cane, just like Daisy had for two or so weeks right out of the coffin. He even used it in the same way: not favoring one leg or the other, using it for strength instead of balance. Muscle weakness. He was just as emancipated as Daisy had been too, in that particular corpse-like way that made him look like a zombie. His hair was long and lanky, brittle strands reaching to his chin instead of his normal lush and gelled look. 

The faces in the lobby were the same - Sabrina behind the desk, Roy playing security guard - even as the decorations were different. No portrait of Jonah Magnus, or of the other directors. They broke out into the London street, as smoggy and crowded as ever, and Jon found himself trailing behind the others in a direct route to their usual pub. The same one he, Basira, Melanie, and Daisy go drinking at sometimes. Only sometimes. They went without him more often, but Jon didn’t blame them, really -

“Something on my face, mate?”

Tim’s wry voice startled Jon out of his reverie, and he flushed. Tim smiled at him, thinly and without humor, and gestured him forward as he dropped behind Melanie. Jon stepped forward, tucking his hands into his jacket, fighting the rising swell in his throat. 

“You’ve been staring. I’m not that much uglier, am I?” Tim asked lightly, a parody of his old good humor. That, at least, was familiar - Tim’s fragile and brittle humor, tightly leashing rage. 

“You...you look good,” Jon said. He buried his hands deeper in his jacket pockets, fighting the lump in his throat. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “It’s good to see you again.”

It was probably a strange thing for Jon to say - but Tim just smiled, even more bitter than the last. “You’ve always been too nice for your own good, Sims.” First time that’s been said about him. “You forgive too easy.”

“Grudges...aren’t worth it, in my experience.” Jon exhaled slowly, watching Melanie’s red hair glint in the sunlight in front of him. “Life’s too short and all.”

“Really? Thought you people loved grudges.” Tim blinked a second, before clearly remembering something. “We love grudges, right. Still, Jon, I never really…” He trailed off awkwardly. “You know.”

He did not. “Right,” Jon said. 

“Apologized,” Tim said hurriedly, when it became clear that Jon wasn’t about to say anything committal. “For trying to kill you all those times. Uh, and trying to get you arrested. And helping frame you for murder. And that whole kidnapping incident -”

Something began to occur to Jon. A rational thought seeped into his brain. 

“In the woods,” Jon said slowly. “Because you thought I was a monster.”

Tim winced, confirming Jon’s suspicion. “Right. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I know I was wrong. I’ve turned over a new leaf and everything.” He brightened. “Did you hear I’m bisexual now?”

“Everybody heard you were bisexual now,” Basira said, bored. “Ten times.”

“Good for you,” Jon said, as sincerely as he could. “That’s...great. Bi rights.”

Tim beamed. “Bi rights!” He clapped Jon’s shoulder supportively with his other hand as Melanie held open the door to the pub for them, ducking inside. “Man, I never thought I’d see the inside of a pub again. I only got to go a few times with you guys before everything. Can Martin still hustle the room at pool?”

“One way to find out,” Martin said serenely. 

“Please don’t start a pub brawl,” Melanie said, pained. “We’ve been kicked out of three places already, I don’t fancy making it a fourth.”

But when Jon looked backwards, he saw Sasha looking up from her book, staring directly at him, blinking owlishly. 

They crowded into a corner booth, squishing up against each other and all talking at once. Jon wanted to drift towards Martin, get him alone and ask what was going on, but after one look at him eyeing up the pool cues speculatively he changed his mind. Only Basira was acting even remotely normal, so he settled for sliding in between her and Sasha. He was dizzy with the noise and the clamor of the familiar pub, overwhelmed by the familiar-unfamiliar tide of voices, and it was taking all of his energy not to spend hours just staring at Sasha, memorizing every line and crease of her face.

The first thing he did was order every single crummy, greasy, soggy serving of pub food he found on the menu, ignoring the way his Assistants laughed at him, before settling in the corner of the booth and pulling out his phone. Jon wasn’t even hungry - he wasn’t hungry - but he was shoving every soggy chip into his mouth until he puked. A human body was a drastically underrated thing. 

Out of curiosity, Jon turned on the front camera of his phone and scrutinized his reflection. He had noticed that his hair was shorter, tied back in a puffed bun instead of his customary ragged ponytail, but beyond that he hadn’t checked. 

He looked...good. No longer gaunt and malnourished, he was a healthy weight. No bags under his eyes. Well kept fade and modest, well trimmed facial hair. No scar over his throat, no circular worm scars.  That was less of a surprise - Tim, Martin, and Sasha were all missing the worm scars. 

His eyes were brown. Just brown. No electrifying green, no spinning iris, no churning wheel of knowledge. Just his normal, boring brown. 

He hadn’t known how much he missed it. 

As the others started arguing passionately about...vlogs? Or something?...Jon pulled out his wallet. Money had the same old Queen on it, along with his old collection of take-out receipts that had all started disappearing when he stopped eating. A photocopy of a picture of his parents, heavily worn and creased. Still an orphan, then. Jon missed the days when that was his biggest problem. 

His driver’s license was the same as ever too. Same name - Jonathan Andrew Sims. Same birthday - February 14th, which he had always considered life’s practical joke on him. The United Kingdom still existed, which was either a good or a bad thing. 

He replaced his wallet, ignoring Sasha’s curious stare, and pulled out his phone. He had only gone so far as making sure that major world events were the same before passing out. This time, he pressed his text messages, and scrolled down his most recents. As usual, it was only a few people - almost all of which were at this table - but there were a few other people too. 

Georgie was the obvious one, and the most recent. He clicked on that conversation, unsurprised to see an immediate photograph of the Admiral looking angelic as he rolled around in some grass in a patch of sun. 

Georgie: Baby at the park soaking in some rays!!! <3 <3 <3. I caught him terrorizing a stray dog. Naughty baby!!

Jon blinked at the message. The Admiral did seem a little...more evil, than he once did. Why were his eyes green? Underneath was Jon’s own text, sent twenty minutes before he had woken up that afternoon. 

Jon: He’s committing atrocities and you’re laughing. You’re laughing. 

Jon couldn’t fight a smile. He missed Georgie. 

He switched over to the text conversation just underneath. He squinted at the contact name. That couldn’t be right. 

Gerry: can u pick up milk from aldis? and scented candles

Gerry: for necromancy reasons

Jon: Can you raise the dead tomorrow? Helen said she wants to talk to me so I may be home late. If you don’t hear from me in five hours she’s likely kidnapped me. As a heads up. 

Gerry: OH, SO LONG AS I HAVE THE HEADS UP?

Gerry: I’m making Georgie give Melanie the money to buy that toddler leash she’s always threatening to get for u. If u die im not resurrecting u. 

Jon: Have fun with one less person to share the rent

Gerry: we dont PAY RENT

Gerard Keay. Jon blinked at the phone. That conversation raised as many questions as it answered. Gerard Keay was alive? He was Jon’s flatmate? He practiced necromancy? None of it seemed very relevant right now, but it made Jon wonder who else was resurrected from the dead. Was necromancy common in this universe, like knitting?

Still, Helen explained quite a bit. It also suggested what Jon was already wondering: that the supernatural was far from foreign. If Helen was supernatural, and not just...a jerk. 

If Tim was an Avatar of the Hunt...if he had been in the coffin...and Daisy’s been hard to track down…

Jon was interrupted in his increasingly coherent train of thought by his food arriving, and all thoughts were thrown out the window. His basket of fish and chips slid in front of him, and he wasted absolutely no time in cramming the fries into his mouth three at a time, not wasting time salting or putting vinegar on them. They were dripping with crease, soggy and burning his tongue. 

They were perfect.

The waiter, looking somewhat intimidated, slid his bacon butty on the table too, and Jon took barely a moment to swallow before stuffing that in his face too. Bacon, butter, brown sauce - it exploded on his tongue, a cavalcade of salt and seasoning. Increasingly terrified, the waiter put his pie and mash on the table and quickly fled, as Jon finished cramming the sandwich into his mouth before moving back to the fish. It was hot, crackling on his tongue, strong and fishy and perfect.

Jon looked up from his food long enough to grab a glass of water and gulp half of it down. It wasn’t until he put his glass down that he saw the looks on the faces of his Assistants. All of whom ranged from frightened to terrified.

  Everybody except Martin, whose chin was propped on his hand and was sighing dreamily. “It’s really hot how you can pack it all away, Jon. Do you want to come over to my flat and let me cook for you? I’d make a lot of food. ”

Jon choked on his fish.

That was it for Sasha. She slammed her book down, expression intent, and jabbed a finger at a now wheezing Jon. “Jon would never choke at Martin’s creepy flirting! That isn’t Jonathan Sims!”

Jon stole Tim’s glass of water, ignoring his squawk, and downed that too. 

Now everybody really was staring at him, and Jon felt heat rise to his cheeks. As the kids say, busted. He should probably stop eating and make his escape while he still could, before Tim decided to change his mind on his ‘murdering Jon’ stance. 

But outside did not have pub food. Inside had pub food. Jon made his decision with the knowledge that, if his Assistants reacted from a reasonable place of Imposter-based trauma and killed him for pretending to be Jonathan Sims, he’d deserve it. He was not moving from this spot until his food was gone or his Assistants killed him. 

Jon finished off Tim’s water, dropping it back on the lacquered table, and hoarsely said, “I’ve been having a very strange day.”

Nobody leaped for his throat or pointed a gun at him, which was always nice. It was more than Jon had been expecting. Instead, everybody looked at Melanie, who narrowed her eyes. Jon realized, a second too late, that they were waiting for her. Whatever happened to him, Melanie would decide. 

...why Melanie? 

Melanie rested her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. She locked eyes with Jon, breaking him down like a judge at a dog show, and Jon tried to shovel mash in his mouth as innocently as possible. 

“Sasha. What’s your evidence?”

“He’s been acting weird all day,” Sasha said promptly, as if she’d been expecting the question. She shifted her arm purposefully, and Jon realized with a start that she was concealed carrying. Was that legal? “Jon never asks me for Statements outright, he always just sneaks them behind Melanie’s back. If he really fainted because he was hungry, he would have eaten his lunch too, instead of just my granola bar. And he hasn’t talked to Martin since he fainted - he isn’t even sitting next to him.” Sasha drew herself up triumphantly. “And, he looked actually scared when Martin threw that knife at him. He’s never scared of Martin. He normally just role-plays the fear bit.”

“Which I appreciate,” Martin said supportively, making Jon blanch. That elicited more suspicious looks from everyone, which Jon couldn’t even begin to parse. “But he has been acting strange today, hasn’t he?”

“Tim?” Melanie asked sharply. 

Tim sniffed loudly, wrinkling his nose a little. “Smells like him.” At Melanie’s intense look, he grudgingly added, “No sawdust or plastic. Flesh and blood, boss.”

Jon began stuffing forkfuls of pastry and meat crumb from the pie in his mouth as Melanie went back to squinting at Jon. Not glaring - just an intense, sidelong look, fingers steepled in front of her. “You aren’t denying it, Jon.”

Jon mumbled something. 

“Swallow your food.”

Jon carefully swallowed his mouthful of dough. “I have not eaten human food,” Jon said delicately, “in five months. I will answer your questions momentarily.”

And then Jon cleaned all three of his plates, to the dumbfounded looks of his Assistants. 

Finally, after everybody else’s drinks had arrived - including Jon’s pint, which he reached for so quickly that Martin stole it away from him and refused to give it back - and Jon had cleaned all three of his plates, he felt ready to talk. He thumped on his chest, burping a little, and leaned back in his plush seat. Melanie was nursing her pint, sipping from it slowly, as Basira gave him her usual ‘I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you’ look. 

“Okay,” Jon said finally. “I apologize for not - ah, clarifying before. I thought I was dreaming. To be honest, I worry that I’m still dreaming.” He looked down at his empty basket and plates. “I dearly hope that wasn’t human flesh or something horrid like that.”

Sasha perked up. “Like in the cannibal priest statement? That’s fascinating -”

“Shut up about cannibal priests,” Melanie groaned, and Sasha guiltily shut up. Oddly rude, but nobody seemed surprised. “You are Jon, right?”

“Yes, in almost every way.” Jon wiped his mouth with a napkin, balling it up and dropping it on the table. “Jonathan Sims, thirty one years old, Aquarius. Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. The Archivist.” He paused a beat, uncertain of how to broach this. “I think Helen may have deposited me in an alternate dimension? Best case scenario.”

Everybody stared at him blankly. 

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly. 

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly. 

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Then everybody was talking over each other, arguing and exclaiming and yelling, and Jon frantically drank his pint. They were so loud. 

Finally, Melanie chopped a hand through the buzz, and everyone quieted. She pursed her lips, looking Jon up and down, and he anxiously let himself get looked at. “How did you know it was an alternate universe? What’s the difference?”

“Martin threw a knife at me and Tim and Sasha are alive,” Jon said instantly. 

“I’m not actually dead in your universe,” Tim said quickly, “just trapped in an infernal demon hell coffin. If you can get me out, I’d be really thankful -”

“No, you’re quite dead,” Jon said apologetically. “That happened to Daisy in my universe, though. A - a lot of what you did here, I think, Daisy did.” He looked at Basira, frowning. “Where is Daisy? She’s not…”

“She’s fine,” Basira said curtly, folding her arms and leaning back. “Having lots of fun ditching us and having fun at her little secretary desk. It’s fine. I don’t care. She can do what she wants, she’s an adult.”

“Basira’s been pining tragically ever since Daisy ran off to go work for Peter Lukas,” Melanie said sympathetically. 

Jon felt a little called out. “Ah. That’s - that’s very unfortunate.” He slowly turned to Martin, who still seemed caught up in the ‘two Jons’ aspect of this. “And you’re...you would define yourself as full of rage?”

“At all times, all the time, without cessation,” Martin agreed affably. “Why? That’s not weird to you, is it?”

“Uh huh.” Jon slowly turned to Sasha. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to insult you, but...did you happen to once work as a Constable for the Met?”

Everybody winced. Sasha sighed. “I regret all of my actions and I’m very sorry that I was once a pig and I’ll never do it again because I value due process now.”

“Word, sister,” Tim said, raising his pint. 

“Hm,” Jon said, far too much coming together.  But that left a big question, one thing that didn’t make sense. “What about me? Do I - eat trauma?”

Basira stared at him blankly. “You try, sometimes, but we usually just spray water at you until you stop.”

“That explains it,” said Jon, despite the fact that it didn’t explain anything. 

“Your questions are pointless, and this is a waste of time.” Melanie clapped her hands sharply, making everyone straighten to attention. She stood up from her seat, everybody scrambling to protect their glasses as Melanie clambered on top of the table. “Helen! Get out here!”

“She’s not - she’s not Beetlejuice, you can’t just call her name and make her appear,” Jon said blankly. “How’s she even supposed to hear -”

“She can hear me just fine,” Melanie called, “because she’s been sitting at the bar this whole time.”

Everybody’s heads craned around to look at the bar. Through the stream of people, carrying drinks and laughing, Jon could faintly make out a tall, willowy figure with a large afro sitting on a barstool at the bar, tapping the rim of one elegant martini with a long, manicured fingernail. 

Then she swiveled around, and Helen grinned broadly at all of them. She waved cheekily with one hand, fingers waving and rippling strangely in the dim pub lights. “Hello! You rang?”

Melanie jabbed a finger at the table pointedly. “Michael’s too young to be here too, Helen!”

“They’re eighteen, they’re a big non-Euclidean concept!” Helen tittered, as she hopped of the stool. Jon’s draw dropped as a much smaller, slight figure next to her hopped off too. They were a teenager, with a curly mop of blonde hair and big, watery blue eyes that seemed just a little strange. Everything about them was on the edge of familiar, and not in the usual way of the Spiral. 

“She was waiting for us to figure it out,” Basira murmured, catching Jon’s attention. “It’s definitely funny to her.”

“Helen defined schadenfreude, I’m afraid,” Jon said, depressed, as Helen and her tagalong popped up at the edge of their table. Melanie had said Michael - and the kid did look like Michael, younger and alive and wide-eyed. Their watery eyes caught on Jon, and they tilted their head curiously. The sight of them hurt Jon’s head more than the Spiral usually did - a testament to the human body he was borrowing. 

Human. That was no defense. He was vulnerable, and judging from the angle of Helen’s smile she knew it. 

“Enjoying your vacation, Archivist?” Helen tittered, folding her hands girlishly as Melanie hopped off the table and back in her seat. “I’ve been having so much fun in this universe I thought I ought to bring a friend! Buy one plane ticket get one free, you know. I have this coupon for a great spa around here -”

“Helen,” Melanie intoned dangerously.

Helen tittered a nervous laugh. Was she...scared of Melanie? “Don’t worry! Your darling little Jon’s perfectly safe. He’s having a great time in one of my favorite dimensions, this wonderful post-apocalyptic adventure with a werewolf -

“Helen,” Melanie said slowly, danger building with every word, “we talked about what happens when you remove Jons from their native ecosystems.”

“They get sick,” Michael said somberly, nodding their head. “An’ wilt.”

“It is very stressful for the Jon, Helen. You know what we don’t like?”

“A stressed Jon?” Michael volunteered. 

“Yes, Michael.” Melanie smiled pleasantly at Helen, who blanched. “A stressed Jon. Because when Jon gets stressed, my girlfriend gets stressed. And when my girlfriend gets stressed, I get stressed. And when I get stressed, everybody is about to have a very bad time. Get it? Helen?”

“Completely understood, very sympathetic, I see your point completely,” Helen said hurriedly. “Really, you can say that I did my dear Archivist a favor! He hasn’t had a human body in almost half a year, the poor dear was so sad about it. It’s a break, really!”

Tim squinted at Jon. “You’re really full on fear demon, then?”

Jon squirmed guiltily, ashamed.  “I prefer the term Avatar. But...yes, I’m an amoral monster distant from humanity, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melanie said impatiently. “You’re about as far from humanity as I am. Having stupid superpowers or cramming shitty food into your mouth doesn’t make you inhuman, it just means you hang out with the wrong crowd. Go back to your own universe and get some rest, I bet you’re stressing out all your friends.”

“I’m really not,” Jon said weakly. “I - I really only have one friend.”

“No wonder you look so tragic all the time,” Sasha said thoughtfully. “Jon gets all mopey without affection. Like an unwatered plant.”

“I eat trauma,” Jon said, bewildered at the perception of harmlessness. 

“You and half of the YouTube vlogging community.” Melanie clapped her hands again sharply, pulling everyone to attention. “Helen. Put Jon back where he came from or so help me.”

“Ruining all my fun,” Helen pouted, but at Melanie’s glare she sighed. She held up one hand, and static rippled through the air. The hand elongated, twisted, and turned into Helen’s signature lengthy claw. Michael eyed it with interest, before holding up their own hand and doing the same. “Fun while it lasted, Archivist! Now hold still. I wouldn’t want to lobotomize the wrong lobe.”

“Nice meeting you,” Sasha said politely, to a very freaked out Jon. “Don’t come back, though.”

“Come back if you want,” Basira yawned. “My life’s boring, spice it up a little.”

“Sorry I’m dead in your universe or whatever,” Tim said, waving a hand. “Life and death is meaningless anyway, so I’m sure it’s for the best.”

“I want my Jon back,” Martin complained. “Go on and get out, then.”

“Tell your friends what we told you,” Melanie said. “Don’t they know that you get all tragic when you’re lonely?”

And Jon didn’t know how to say it - that they didn’t know, or if they did then they didn’t care, because they had so many bigger problems than if Jon was sad or not. With Elias’ strange plans, with Jon’s encroaching monsterhood and his slow and steady starvation, with Martin’s loneliness and Basira’s desperation and Melanie’s instability, Jon’s feelings were the least important thing in the world. 

Did it matter, to anybody but Jon, that he thought of Martin first thing in the morning and last thing as he went to bed at night? 

“Hold still and look straight at me!” Helen said, and Jon had to be thankful - because that let him look at Sasha and Tim, eyes wide and intrigued, as Helen speared her finger through Jon’s forehead. 

Jon blacked out, but the images of Sasha and Tim stayed burned behind his eyelids. He dreamed calm dreams, of him and Martin and Sasha and Tim, laughing together, as the world faded away.

****

When Jon woke up, it was with a crick in his neck, and he knew immediately he had fallen asleep on the battered old couch in his office again. 

There was a heavy weight on his chest, and when he pried his eyes open he saw the top of Daisy’s head in front of him. Dusty blonde hair pooled on his chest as Daisy snored, deep asleep, arm stretched over his torso. 

The taste of salt and grease was on his tongue, and Jon let himself go back to sleep. The dreams would be terrifying and desolate, but at least in them he was never hungry. 

[adeptisauric]

Lunar Tears ❥ Oneshot

▹ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 : nier: automata

    ⋱ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 9s / gender-neutral!reader

▹ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :  the war against machine lifeforms is finally over. yet, you’re still the only human alive and you’re in love with a broken android.

▹ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : profanity (i think, i literally can’t remember if there is any at this point)

▹  𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫(𝐬) : i do not own any characters within nier automata! nor do i own you, the reader.

✂ ────────

▹ 𝐚/𝐧 : this is my first oneshot that i written back in december of 2018. it might not be the best... but i’m proud of it. also, yes, you can find this on wattpad, quotev, and ao3 as well!

✂ ────────

"Nines, where are you taking me?" I grumbled as my limbs nonchalantly carried my body as I proceeded to follow the white-haired android to our untold destination.

"You'll see~" he purred in reply, adorably bounding about our hike.

Not gonna lie, I felt a little jealous by the boy's everlasting energy... it must be entertaining being an artificial humanoid. Furthermore, it also must be a little boring at times.

Breathing softly, I halt in my steps, refusing to move any longer. It was at this point where I was tolerably tired, I mean, we've been traveling on foot for what seemed to be seven hours. Call me lazy, I just don't care and I despise all things exercise.

"Mm? Oh, come on, (Y/n)! It's barely just a few more miles away," 9S pouted while I shook my head and my butt found a portion of ruins to set itself down on, "Do I have to carry you?"

Blinking, my orbs were fixed upon his unmasked features as I took his query into consideration. "Yes," I answered plainly, a grin now upon my lips.

Without about word, my body was hoisted bridal style into his arms and he was already proceeding to walk. 

Eager aren't we?

Our little adventure was quite tranquil... yet quite quiet. But, I didn't mind the quietness of the air among us, it just enabled me to rethink of my history and how it placed me directly here, right in this moment.

When I originally arrived, I was terrified and very bewildered. I couldn't remember much of what transpired in my life, nor how I even got here. Nevertheless, now thinking about it, I was quite satisfied that whatever occurred, occurred. Because, if it didn't, I wouldn't have met the love of my life... 9S.

Yes, after I got here, everything was quite absurd, but now things are subtle and tranquil. There are no more hostile machine lifeforms... and YoRHa is no longer exists.

I've got Nines all to myself...

"We here," he expressed softly, placing me down on my feet which tore me out of my trance.

"The commercial facility?" I uttered, perplexed, "Why here?"

9S shot me a smirk, "It's what's underneath this."

What?

Feeling quite simple-minded, he took my hand and escorted me to the—what I deemed was broken—elevator. Once he pushed the button and the doors open, he scooted me on inside before pushing the solitary button there.

"You're going to love this, I have no doubt about it," Nines murmured rather happily. Before the doors could open, he promptly planted his palms over my orbs and led me out a bit. "Okay, ready? One, two, three-"

Uncovering my eyes, I was met with a brilliant light of—maybe—over a thousand flowers. I suppose I was gazing at them like I was some kid in a candy store because I overheard 9S chuckle vividly.

"So, what do you think?"

"I... I love this place!" I eventually cracked, hopping up and down a bit before spinning on my heels to face him—only to have him tuck one of the numerous flowers behind my ear.

"I'm glad," he beamed with surprisingly adoring orbs, "They're called Lunar Tears, I imagined since you like looking at pretty things, that you would love these."

Oh, Nines.

He held my hand once again, guiding me into the center of the patch, "Though... nothing is more fascinating than you."

My mouth went dry a bit, shocked by his words.

'...nothing is more fascinating than you'.

I didn't know what to respond, in truth, I didn't know what to even do. It was like he broke me entirely—but, not in a bad way. "Thank you..." I ultimately mustered up, my eyes becoming now fascinated by the ground, "...for everything."

Is it corrupt for me to love an android so much? To have my heart feel like it's rupturing every time he's near me or whenever I overhear his name? Probably not. However, I truly don't want to destroy him... like when 2B had died in front of his orbs.

9S isn't mentally okay right now... he just puts a mask on to make me feel content.

"You're welcome," he answered lastly, his voice appearing a bit complicated. "Hey... (Y/n), look at me."

My head snapped up once he said those words, my eyes finding his. He seemed so lost—like he wasn't there at all.

Was he reminiscing about what transpired? Or is he just gradually losing all emotion?

Before I could ask anything, he had seized my face tenderly as his lips led themselves to mine. Of course, I was overwhelmed, but, I instantly obtain my thoughts back and returned his affectionate kiss. Genuinely, I don't certainly know what startled me more, the fact that he kissed me or that he actually was a fucking wondrous kisser.

As suddenly as the kiss occurred, it ended. Feeling the loss of his warm saddens me, but what had me grimacing was his following words.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," his speech was now irregular as he conversed,  "I love you, yet I can't love you. Me, loving you, will presumably tear you apart... and I don't-"

I silenced him with another kiss considering it seemed like the only way to get him to shut the hell up. I could tell he was taken by surprise but he took it anyways.

"Are you mad?" he questioned, breaking our kiss for the second time, his orbs wide.

"Yes, 9S, I am. In fact, I'm in insane—I'm insanely in love with you," I responded, staring him straight into his blue eyes with my (E/c) ones, "And, I don't care if you 'break' me because I'm already broken. But, with you, I'm genuinely happy and I'm discovering my missing pieces one by one with you."

Nines just blinked at me, taking a few moments to grasp everything that I just said to him before his expression went into an indecipherable state. "...in love with me?" he began to murmur softly, yet, I could only pick up on the last few words of his sentence.

Are you repeating what I-

Not even a few seconds later, my train of logic was cut off by the impact of 9S' form against mine, knocking us both off our feet and into the lunar tears. 

"You love me even though I'm mentally wrecked?" he whispered into my right ear, causing a shiver to shoot down my spine by how close he was.

Honestly, I couldn't move—well, I could move my arms... but that's not the point. He was essentially perching on top of my stomach, bending over me.

"Nines... I love you no matter what." I muttered, my hand stretching up and caressing his check. Shortly, he got to the position where he was now resting beside me, his head resting upon my breast while enveloping his arms about my torso.

"Do me a favor then..." he commenced, softly, "...don't let me go."

[gumnut-logic]

Thunderfam Appreciation Post

I’m giving this a new post to prevent scroll city, but the original and several reblogs can be found by clicking the above link. Also, it’s an excuse to post a piccy of Virg cos any excuse, really :D

Many thanks to @willow-salix for writing this question list :D

Before I start, I just want to say that I value every member of this fandom. I’m often hopeless at communicating in group settings so I don’t speak to many peeps, but that is my failing, not anyone else’s. You are an amazing group and you have supported me and each other just brilliantly over the last nearly three years that I have been hanging with you guys. Thank you ever so much for all your wonderful support and encouragement. I’ve had so much fun and created so much stuff…you guys are amazing. Thunderfam rock!

Please note that my memory is pathetic and I will fail to mention everyone. Please do not take any offence if you aren’t listed below. That does not mean I don’t value you, I do, it just means I have swiss cheese between my ears.

-o-o-o-

Your favourite writer of your favourite boy.

@i-am-chidorixblossom  You are a whumper and comforter after my soul. You speak the Virg :D @vegetacide I adore your turn of phrase and your description is to die for.

The person who's stories you will always read.

I try to read most fics that come across my dash, but there are a few that have me jumping up and down. @i-am-chidorixblossom , @vegetacide , @tsarinatorment , @scribbles97 , @the-lady-razorsharp , @janetm74 Of course, I regularly fail at this as some of you write a huge amount of fic and I am often playing catch up, but fic!

Who wrote the first fic you read in this fandom.

I landed on FF.net back in May 2018. I immediately ran into @the-lady-razorsharp who I knew from another fandom ten years prior and she was absolutely wonderful, drawing me in and introducing me around. I gobbled up several of her fics in the process.

Person you can talk to for the longest without a break.

I am hard to get started, persistence is required, but once started, it is usually hard to shut me up. @scribbles97 @vegetacide and @tsarinatorment have all discovered that. Dangle a Virg, a plotline and stand back.

Person you can't be trusted to be left alone with.

Um, @vegetacide and I have plotted out the entirety of Warm Rain together…poor Virg. Add @the-lady-razorsharp into the equation and Virgil ends up with a beard, dressed in leather and riding a Harley – that was a hilarious evening.  Between @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 Virgil gets grey hairs and has to go rescue Scott – because Scott inevitably ends up in the story :D  @scribbles97 gets the blame for Gentle Rain – expand your horizons she said ::headdesk:: But then there was the time I left one random line about Eos visiting Virgil in the shower and went to bed. I woke up to hilarity and chaos as Thunderfam took the idea and ran with it! Love you guys :D

Person whose fic made you cry the most.

I know there were at least two fics that made me cry, but for the life of me I can’t identify them. I did cry writing my own fic – Flannel – and don’t tend to reread it for that reason. Purupuss traumatised me with A Quiet Day to the point I had to put it down and walk away for a bit ::wails::

Person whose fic made you laugh the most.

I have no idea. I know there are fic out there and I know I’ve read it, but without a complete list of everything I’ve read, I don’t have a clue.

Person whose fic made you think the most.

Aaaargh, I don’t have a master list so can’t remember everything. Staring at my paltry favourites list on FF.net (which was mostly gathered three years ago and never maintained), Purupuss’ ‘Brothers in Arms’ and her whole Quiet series has me wanting to write a Scott-Virgil telepathic fic (and she has given me permission to run with the idea, I just haven’t actioned it yet). Counterpoint by Swallow and Amazon is amazing and likely contributed to Sotto Voce.

Person you have laughed with the most.

I’m really not liking this ultimate one person idea. I’ve laughed with a lot of people in this fandom. I’ve candy cannoned a bunch of you as well :P There has been mad plot cackling, evil conspiring, fic written to stir pots and delight on purpose. Hell, I’ve even written fic that was purposefully a giant virtual hug because I’m so far away that even if half the world wasn’t in isolation, I couldn’t hug most of you. Sure, I talk with some of you more than others, and there is laughter in those chats…oh, god, so much cackling, poor, poor Tracy boys. But then there are also so many smiles both vocalised and not. Thunderfam is one of my happy places. Bring on the belly laughs :D

Your comfort fic that you'll go back and read again on a bad day.

I will often resort to my own fic when I’m really down simply because it helps me get to sleep :D and it is kinda tailored to me ::grins::  (and my memory is that bad I often forget what I wrote anyway – yes, it is that bad) But there are also a few on my FF.net favourites list. Mostly hurt/comfort in a Virg flavour. Cheesycheese, nhsweetcherry, A Small Rescue by Nalina, Breathe Easy and Under the Weather by @loopstagirl – several of hers, in fact – the Virg ones :D Pretty much anything that has Virg fainting and being looked after apparently :D Chiddi and Veggie fic, of course.

Favourite piece of fan art.

I have never been so honoured by artists before. This fandom has some amazing skills and I have been gifted some beautiful works. You guys are amazing (I keep saying it like a broken record, but you are).

Again, I’m stuck on having to list one and I can’t. I think Fanart Appreciation Month in January pretty much summed up my opinion.

Who have you known the longest in the fandom.

@the-lady-razorsharp followed by @vegetacide both wonderful peeps. I can’t miss out on @weirdburketeer either for her amazing support almost from day one.

Favourite OC.

I have to say that I really enjoy reading about Ray from @i-am-chidorixblossom ‘s fics :D He is so gentle and kind and just ::sigh:: Virg likes him lots :D Selene by @willow-salix is, of course, a major presence in the fandom and amazingly written. @hedwigstalons ‘ Claire is lovely.

Person who supports your work the most.

The Thunderfam? There have been some wonderful people who support all the time. @hedwigstalons  @cg29 @janetm74 @weirdburketeer in particular have been amazing support liking and commenting on just about everything I write. I honestly don’t know how they do it. Plus several peeps over on FF.net and Ao3 who support me over there.

And then there are the poor souls who put up with me in chat and listen to my wibblies and whining and character checks and field random chunks of writing that get thrown their way. @scribbles97 @vegetacide @the-lady-razorsharp  @tsarinatorment @i-am-chidorixblossom @onereyofstarlight @godsliltippy  @willow-salix @janetm74 all have had random passages thrown at them at all times of the day and night by a crazy me begging for feedback. Does this work? Is this in character? Am I insane? What the hell is Scott doing? Is this John??? I give up, tell me what to do? Virgil is driving me insane! So, um, yeah

Person who's progress you are the most proud of.

I love those peeps who appear in fandom who start off poking around commenting and generally being lovely and then all of a sudden get out their own pens and start writing and they are frickin’ amazing! Both @janetm74 and @hedwigstalons come to mind in this department. Like holy cow – ‘here is my first fic and I’m not sure’ ::reads it:: Omigod! Where did you come from? That was amazing. Sit down here now, keep doing that writing thing, bloody hell! I think being brave enough to pick up a pen and join in is a major thing :D

Person who's story you think is underrated and should be read by more people.

If I find fic I like, I reblog it and shout about it. What I like is definitely skewed in a Virgil direction and this dictates often what I’m going to read first. I can’t reblog what I haven’t read. So, this equation will always be skewed by ‘reasons I haven’t read a fic’ which mostly involves either Virgil or the fact I’m juggling RL. So, my answer to this is if I think a fic needs to be shouted about, I shout about it.

Something you think people would say about you.

She’s nutty.

Silliest 'thing' you do with someone.

I’ve been known to write fic on the fly directly into chat windows to try and distract peeps going through shitty times.

Favourite pairing you now Stan because of someone's fic.

Virgil/Kayo because of @vegetacide for reasons I have blamed her for multiple times. @the-lady-razorsharp and @weirdburketeer were accessories to the fact.

Favourite headcanon from someone's fic.

Um, Virgil and coffee? I got that from somewhere and it has infiltrated my fic…a lot.

Ultimately, though, I feel most people I interact with contribute to my fic and how I’m feeling. This has been a wonderful experience. I try to return the support as much as I can, but sometimes it is a juggle between writing more, my stupid fluctuating mood, the demands of RL and my own creative drive. I hope I’ve helped a few peeps, because you guys have certainly helped me ::major group hug::

And yes, I hug a lot, because to be honest, I have no other descriptor to communicate how I feel, so you get buckets of hugs :D

Tagging the Thunderfam. Feel free to grab these questions and run with them. You’re all part of the gang whether you write, read, art, gif, screenshot, chat, babble, stare at Virgil all day...I know I do a lot of staring.

Nutty

(Thunderfam rocks!)

[jiminiediminie]

A not at all brief commentary post BTS on MTV unplugged because this left me with so many feels. (forewarning this is long)

It’s so hard sometimes to decide my favorite type of BTS performance -- the over-the-top performances that we see on award shows or the stripped back performances like in tiny desk or now MTV Unplugged. But there is something so authentic about the stripped back performances; they get to just sit there -- no choreo --  and it becomes all about the music and the vocals/rap. 

So, I was very excited that BTS was doing something like this again. They have been so quiet lately that I missed seeing them perform. And like many people BTS is an escape from the real world for a little while for me, and I desperately needed that this week. 

Throughout this entire show I had the biggest smile on my face. I am so angry that MTV spoiled the surprise of telepathy and especially the coldplay cover. I would have loved to go into that blind and be shocked. Also the random commercials of teen mom, jersey shore, and floribama gave me literal whiplash. I did not want to see some random shirtless person right after I just died watching BTS’s performances. Poor thinking on MTV’s part. Another thing that I noticed throughout all these performances was that the mic’s were on. You can hear the backtrack and them singing over it. Since some people love to point out that they could have been lip syncing since it was pre recorded. 

I like that BTS brings attention to member’s who are heavily involved in a song’s writing/production. So i appreciated that tae and yoongi introduced b&g and telepathy.

I also have to mention that it is so nice to have all 7 of them back together. There was just something missing when yoongi was gone and now they feel whole again. 

Moving on to breaking down each performance: 

Telepathy

That set fit the retro vibes of the song so well

The donald duck on most of their clothes? What was the reason? 

Jimin on that red bike (he looked so good!) and then tae joining and sitting in the side car 😂

Jungkook’s matching jean outfit with his blonde hair. A look 

I love that when it’s a fun song BTS cannot sit still. They do little dances in their seat

Vmin’s little dance. It looked like jm was trying to hold back a laugh

Blue and Grey

I was so hyped for the potential of a blue and grey performance. It is one of my favorite BTS songs and probably my favorite of their more “chill” songs.

The set was so pretty and the lighting behind it was so cinematic. The lighting changed from warm to cool and back to warm as the song progressed

Tae looked and sounded so good in this. I love how forefront he was visually in this performance as this seems to be a song that means so much to him

Jimin’s high note in this was so pretty i replayed it several times. 

The emotion they put into this song. When they did a close up on any of the members you can see how much they feel the music they sing. That close up of jm looking directly into the camera nearly killed me. 

Hobi omg. When they style his hair like that and put him into a suit i just cannot deal. 

That final shot with the sun panning behind tae. Wow

Fix You Coldplay cover (!!!) 

I will reiterate how mad I am that I got this spoiled for me. While I was never a massive Coldplay fan, I know a lot of their music so having BTS cover one of their songs is very exciting. Had I been able to watch this without knowing they were going to cover this song, I would have been floored (who am i kidding I still was). 

This song particularly is so amazing because of the message and emotion it brings. It is the perfect song for BTS to sing to bring comfort to their fans during these times where they cannot perform for them. I was amazed at the arrangement they did (rap line i see you) and the unique emotion BTS brought while performing it.

The standout -- kim freaking seokjin. I love when jin gets to just belt out his powerful voice and he got to do it so much throughout this song. One of the other times I was so floored by his voice like this was in the come back home cover they did in 2018 . And now I can add this performance to times jin blew my mind. And he did all that while sitting so dainty with his legs crossed. Like he isn’t single handedly saving the music industry.  

The rap line. Their arrangement was such a perfect way to have them participate but not force them to sing like the vocal line. Their lower registers (especially joon’s omg) sounded so good when harmonized with the vocal lines. The jin x joon and suga x tae harmonies were probably my favorite combination of voices. 

Jimin sounded like a literal angel (no surprise). When he and hobi harmonised I ascended. 

Hobi’s entire look, again. That suit with his hair styled like that, again. He looked so good. Also is his mic a darker red than usual here?

After hearing how amazing JK’s voice sounds in acoustic songs like this, I am hoping he has something like that on JJK1. I want to hear more of it thank you. 

Tae closing the performance with his honey smooth voice. Perfect ending. 

Tiny detail but at the very end jk looked over at jm and did a little nod, almost of satisfaction (??). Yes jikook be proud of that entire performance you all just did. 

Only negatives -- I wish the lighting wasn’t so harsh, I wanted to see their beautiful faces more. Hobi didn't get to sing solo; we know that boy can sing and I want to hear it. No hobi x jk harmony (from what i could tell); Their two voices together is one of my favorite combinations (go see this performance and the tiny desk concert for examples please).

I also liked that coldplay posted about the cover to support it. Legends hyping legends

Life Goes On

I truly don’t have a lot to say about this performance since we have seen it so much but I am obsessed with the more acoustic version of the song; I love a lot of the chill songs BTS has so the more acoustic the better to me. 

Their outfits were beautiful as well. Reminds me of something out of a british spy movie.

Also have I mentioned that I love it when jimin’s hair is pushed back because it is such a good look on him

Dynamite

Immediate thoughts -- jk’s hair. The blonde on top and dark undercut is such a good look on him. It has been said, but jk turned 23 and chose violence. And now he has blue hair? I just got used to the blonde

I do find it funny to watch BTS try and stay in their chairs during this song. It seems so hard for them especially when there is choreo to a song. I almost expected jimin, hobi, or tae to get up and dance a little; these three in particular seemed to have the hardest time staying in their seats. 

Like LGO I don’t have a lot of commentary on dynamite. It was an amazing performance, I liked this version of the song, and dynamite is always a bop. 

The only thing I can say I was disappointed by was no Dis-ease performance (it wouldn't have fit the vibe anyway but one could have hoped). I’m still holding out hope. I want to hear the bridge in dis-ease performed live so bad. 

Closing thoughts -- I was so happy to see this side of BTS again. No elaborate sets (i mean like renting out a freaking airport elaborate; the fact that that is what I am using as a threshold is insane). No choreo. Just them and their music. 

(If you made it to the end i’m shocked, thanks for reading my essay)

[winchester-reload]

hi! i just read your fic, After Dark (for the second time, it’s amazing, easily going into my top five favorite fics of all time, your writing and characterization of dean especially is phenomenal and knocked me off my feet), but i’m still a little fuzzy on the ending. if you find time, could you possibly explain? thank you so much, your writing is beautiful

Okay, so I know I’ve had this ask for a while. I haven’t been ignoring you. It’s just that this fic is one of those stories that was so consuming when I wrote it, I have a hard time diving back in when I get asks. It was my Everest. I was obsessed with finishing it but kept trying to die at the top of the mountain (so to speak).  I started writing it in June 2015 and didn’t finish it until December 2018. I have sooooo many notebooks filled with notes and rewrites for this story, it’s almost embarrassing. And, you’ve read it, so you probably know why: it’s INVOLVED. I mean, the very first chapter gives you the most important line from the penultimate chapter of the book.

So, yes. You know what? Let’s talk about After Dark. I’m ready.

Spoilers after the cut

I’m gonna do my best here to clear things up, but since you’re specifically asking about the end of the fic, I won’t do a complete chapter by chapter breakdown of the plot. Let’s instead pick up at Chapter 19 with a little more of a abridged version. 

In 19, we finally get our Sam breakdown of what he’s been trying to figure out from the beginning– why it struck him as odd that Dean and Cas had hooked up this time over all the times before. He realizes that the general assumption that God was the light that beat back the darkness wasn’t actually a metaphorical idea, but was, in fact, a literal one. God wasn’t the thing that conquered the Dark, the light he yielded was. That light was Love. Fun side note: The sources Sam cites in that chapter to support his theory are all actual academic sources/philosophical ideas. You can look any of them up to find out more about love as a daemon, or The Unity of Opposites theory. So, Dean now knows that Cas is being used by Alice for something, but doesn’t know what.

Ch 20: Alice explains that the only thing that can save Dean’s soul from its eternal fate with the Darkness is if he’s “released” (so to speak) by his light. She says that the way it works is through Cas’ ultimate broken heart.

“If he takes you, you don’t die out of hate, or spite, or fear,” she whispered. “There’s no jealousy or malice or revenge. You die in stark contrast to all those things. It’s the opposite of everything he’s ever wanted for you— Wanted with you. Everything he’s ever hoped or dreamed or fought for; he does it only because he loves you, and it’s that selflessness that cleanses the shadows. It’s the power of a broken heart.”

It’s Cas’ sacrifice that will save Dean’s soul. Alice is careful to tell Dean that he was never going to survive this. Cas  and everyone else is supposed to, but for Dean, it was always just a matter of where his soul ended up. 

Cas, of course, says he’ll do it and that Dean needn’t ask, because there’s not really a choice here.

Ch 21: We pick back up with an echo of Rowena and realize that everything she told him in Chapter 2 actually came true. (weird, right?)

Ch 22: Cas wakes up at “the start”, only, this time’s he’s fundamentally changed from the journey. It’s in this chapter that we find out why Cas was getting glimpses from the ‘end of the story’ throughout the book: 

Angels are ethereal. They’re not contained to a specific timeline–this is something they’ve talked about in canon. It was ONLY while Cas had his grace AND was actively dying that he was able to see snippets of the things that would happen after the events in Chapter 20. (IE: the dream he had in Chapter 8 of Crowley, the dream in Ch 15 where he’s walking across the field where the Winchesters crashed, even though he hadn’t actually been there yet, etc)  It turned out he wasn’t actually seeing or speaking to Rowena. She was more a figment of his subconscious as he tried to warn himself where this story was going. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really any way for him to stop the train. HOWEVER,

In Cas’ lame attempt to keep from drowning Dean like “The Fish” Rowena kept calling him, he’d made the conscious decision to give Dean some “wings” in Chapter 15. The grace had proven threatening/effective enough in the fight against the Darkness to that point, that it had spent the entire story trying to snuff Cas out. It was also the only element keeping Cas from becoming infected by the Darkness the same way Sam and the rest of the people were, which is why Cas quickly became infected after extracting it. 

So, when Dean got the grace in Chapter 15, it was enough to pull him back out of the Darkness’ grip and bring him back to life.

When Cas comes out the other side of the spell in this chapter, alive, as he was supposed to be, he realizes that everything had reset like Alice said it would– Except for him. He was still wearing the same clothes, and still dying from his own self-inflicted knife wound (sans Darkness insanity). (Dean, remember, was not supposed to reset. The actions he took during the fic were always supposed to be permanent for him.) 

It’s then that Cas understands that it’s not over yet; they’re still fundamentally connected through Cas’ grace, and that means, there’s a CHANCE that Dean’s still alive too (and with Cas’ grace). He asks Crowley to teleport him to the field he saw in his dream and it’s here that he finds Dean, still clinging to life and staring up at the newly found stars.

Cas rallies his grace one last time by laying a hand on the burn mark left on Dean, and uses the rest of it to save him. Then, the very exhausted, very exsanguinated human Cas topples over in the field.

Ch 23: is probably where I lost you and I’m gonna tell you, it’s very intentional that I’ve made you unsure. 

It starts with a dreamlike Cas in the field staring at the back of an ambulance bed. There are elements of the Darkness around him, filtering into the sky. He panics when he thinks it’s Dean on the back of the stretcher dead, but specifically points out the bare feet (Dean was in socked feet. It was mentioned multiple times in Chapter 18-20). Alice then comes out of nowhere and tackles him to the ground. She’s our dream stand-in for the things the EMTs are doing to save Cas in that moment (Cas was the one with bare feet) while she warns him that the Darkness is not gone. She tells him she’s proud of him for finding a loophole, but that he shouldn’t believe he’s won. He should, in fact, fear the opposite. 

“…it doesn’t matter how fucking proud of you I am for finding it” she says. “The truth of the matter is, it’s gonna take what it’s owed— Or try… ”

Cas then wakes up in Dean’s bed and Dean tells him he was having another nightmare. It’s established at this point that Cas has been having a lot of them since becoming human. So much so, that Dean is practiced in dealing with bringing Cas back down. Cas gets frustrated with the situation and with himself and goes to wander through the bunker and get water. Dean chases after him, like the good caretaker he is.

Cas tells Dean that he doesn’t believe it’s a nightmare. He believes that the conversation with Alice really happened and that the Darkness is not gone, but, maybe, lying in wait either to attack again, or, even, MAYBE, that it already has him… (Not Dean, but Cas this time. Like a trade.)

This leaves us, the reader with the uneasy feeling that that might be true. We’re in Cas’ POV and the last we saw him, he was face down in a field bleeding out from a wound he was probably not gonna be able to recover from. If he’s not sure what’s real and what’s a dream, then how can we be? This is amplified by the fact that everything Cas has done in the story to this point has been proven true, so we want to believe him. But his unsureness feels so much more like the answer we don’t want. 

Our unease is punctuated by small things like 1. Dean wearing a purple shirt* when Cas had specifically named that as a color he’d never seen Dean wear before (Ch 19). And then, of course, 2. the fact that his coat is there when it shouldn’t be. Did Alice leave it? Why would she leave it? How could she leave it?

We’re left, like Cas, not sure if the story has ended like it appears to have ended. We’re unsure if they both made it out safe. If they’re really together. And with everything so damn woven, how can we just have these plot holes???? 

But, that’s also kind of the nature of the trauma Cas has endured. And, if he wasn’t really living this moment with Dean, then why is he healing slowly from his wounds? Why is he out of breath before he gets to the kitchen? (You know how it is when you’ve been laid up for a long stint. EVERYTHING IT HARD.) 

So, you, like Cas, find yourself placing your trust in Dean as he reassures Cas that it wouldn’t matter if it’s not over.

 “Because you an’ me, we’re unbreakable.” 

And now this is where you really hate me because I’m not going to tell you one way or the other. I’m gonna let the story speak for itself. I will say that I would NEVER want to put them through all of that if they couldn’t live in the sunshine on the other side, though.

*more on the color purple

[desdemonafictional]

2020 Fanfic Year End Summary

Hey ho let’s go

Nev does these every year and I think they’re interesting, so for the first time I’m gonna give it a go too. I feel like this has been the longest fucking year--the Zine feels like it was two years ago and last January feels like it was ten years ago.

I’m gonna answer some questions and do a little reflection on the year 

This year I technically finished Icarus with 2k words of a 36k story, and after that I went on to produce 197k words not even COUNTING the stuff from GPAU which I do not know how to divide up for 2020. 

That’s 23 fics in one year, 8 of which were cowriting projects. This year has been, objectively, insane. By comparison, in 2019 I produced 17 fics and at the time I thought THAT was doing pretty impressive work. Now it’s not my best year by sheer number of titles--2018 was an oil boom while I was into JTHM and I actually put out 25 fics that year, some of which were short oneshots and some of which were two- or three-shots. But in terms of words? 2020 knocked them all out of the park. Which is absolutely something I owe to my amazing friends who let me ride around in their brains like the parasite I am.

In 2018 I started cowriting with Chokopopo, in 2019 I started cowriting with Neveralarch, and in 2020 I just did a fucking ton more of that with no looking back. It’s so incredibly motivating to have someone to show your progress to! And to have someone to hand the project over to when you’re stuck. If I hadn’t had Nev to bounce off of, most of this fic wouldn’t have been thought up at all, let alone finished. And don’t even get me started on GPAU! Choko and Zephyr and me have done such amazing things with “Welcome! Everything is fine”, and I can’t wait to be able to wrap that up and leave it for posterity.

I switched job positions around July of this year, and it’s changed the way I produce fic. Not sure if it’s good yet or not. I was never actually under a stay at home order this year because I work for a state agency, so to a degree I’ve missed out on the ways that quarantine affected other writers. I think I was fortunate?

Best Title 

Ahhh this is tough, I put a lot of effort into my titles this year--I promised myself in 2019 I was going to stop using song lyrics for fic titles because they make songs loop in my brain and it’s self inflicted torment, which is a promise I... mostly kept. “Dress Your Idol in Gold and Ashes” is the one I put most effort into probably, because I kept toying around with it trying to find something that was evocative of the right pagan imagery, and also the idea that got me started on the fic was a passage in a text book about the daily dressing of an idol statue in ancient Egypt.

“Broke My Last Glass Jaw” gets special mention because I named it after an essay that I wrote in undergrad for my African American Lit course, in which I broke down themes of the spoiled american dream via the lens of 90′s rap.

Worst Title

“Take one for the Team” is definitely my laziest title. It’s just super self indulgent kink fic, no character arc or anything, so I couldn’t find a good image or phrase to bring in for the title. Also I remember I really wanted to post it quickly, since it was a response to some art I was looking at, and I wanted the artist to see. I’m sure I could have done better with the title.

I did end up titling “Fear and Delight” after a song but I forgive myself because I literally only wrote the fic because the song existed first.

Best Summary

Some of these summaries I wrote and a some I did not, but of the ones that I wrote I think.... “ I'm All Full Up on Yesterdays, Don't Sing Me No More Blues” is the best one. It launches you directly into the action, while preserving the surprise reveal at the end of chapter 1. I actually wrote chapter one with this summary in mind, so it was baked in there from the start.

Jazz turned in his seat, cube at his lips, just in time to spot the white pursuit vehicle steaming and panting in the doorway. “Jazz of Staniz,” the enforcer shouted, “surrender the matrix and come quietly!”

Jazz knocked back his drink. “Well!” he said to the open-mouthed bartender, “time to split!”

Worst Summary

I mean, summaries are hard for everyone, right? That’s the thing we all universally struggle with, I think? I usually end up liking mine, and this year I was less afraid to just let a section of the story speak for itself. Anyway the worst one is “ Broke My Last Glass Jaw” by virtue of the fact that I had to come back months later and add another line because I wasn’t satisfied with how it was reaching audiences.

After the war, Impactor is at loose ends.

(They were friends once, weren't they? After all this time, Impactor wonders if Megatron hasn't managed to forget.)

I really wanted that one line to say it all, but honestly it requires a lot of trust in me as the author and most of the people who pass by the fic in the archive aren’t gonna know me from adam. The second line clarifies what kind of story it’s going to be in terms of tone and theme.

Best First Line

I’m pretty ambivalent about most of my first lines. Since Nev already pointed out the first line in “ Apotheosis”, I have to admit, it is pretty good. It gets off to a real jaunty start.

“Excuse me,” Starscream said, striding down the steps of the senate chambers with his cape flaring out behind him, “get your cowcatcher out of his face, you tin-plated amateur despot, he’s with me.”

I also like the audacity of a run on sentence that is the opening to “ Desecrate You”

Ratchet clicks the video because it was auto-recommended, and because First Aid is always dropping hopeful hints that he wants her to watch his show when he’s supposed to be grading papers, and because something about the title (“This is Definitely a Hoax! None of this is Real! Short Cut Footage Episode”) makes her wonder why the hell someone who runs a Ghost Hunting youtube channel would bill their own hard work as a hoax right out of the bag.

Worst First Line

Definitely the least interesting is from “Tantric Sex, and Other Mysteries of the Divine”. I guess it’s another fic where I was really eager to get to the meat of the fic, and so I just went back after I was done with the fic and wrote a paragraph of bare bones setting context so we could move on already.

It’s game night at Swerve’s, and Nightbeat is out in the thick of the crew for once, getting the lay of the land.

I have the same problem in a few fics, which probably arises from the fact that when I read a fic, I often skim the first paragraph or so to see if I really want to commit to the read. So I sometimes write like I’m expecting the audience to do that too. I probably need to work on that. Man, I even did it in Sexy Staycation.

Best Last Line

I like endings! I usually have a good gut instinct for where stories should end, and how to pace that, and what image I want to close the fic on. Often times I’ll be writing a story and feeling really lukewarm about it, and then the ending will come to me, and I’ll feel totally won over by it. That happened with my Suicide Squad fic years ago. So this is for the most part me picking the best of the things I already like. “Broke My Last Glass Jaw” has a good pithy one; I like how it isolates this moment as a moment of choice, and how it’s also ambiguous whether he will change because of this or whether he’s doomed to go back to his predetermined pattern.

And despite the unguarded door and the empty inviting streets beyond, where no one wants or expects anything of him but his feterless bitter trog onward into the next waiting prison cell, Impactor lays down, and Impactor does.

Special mention goes to “ The Sky Dark in its Eclipse : Orange Light Remix”, because the ending section is one of the big changes I brought to the remix, and I’m really happy with how it alters the shape of the narrative and also how it changes the focus of Rung’s arc. Most of the actual words in this fic were written by Choko in 2018, so this is like a collab in slow motion--I changed loadstone moments mostly, some of the framing, all of the backstory, and updated the setting for Cybertron. But the ending is all me.

On the morning of Intro to Psych finals, while Hot Rod hums and taps and scrolls back and forth through his test on the front row of the testing hall, Rung will sit behind his desk and brush the dust from the rotors of his fateful archetype, and start the long process of putting the pieces together once and for all.

Worst Last Line

Again, I like my endings, so this is really the worst of the best. The original ending line I wrote for “ All Our Urgent Restless Sighing” was:

Deadlock’s finials twitched. “...I am a reasonable amount of interested,” he said, “in this topic.”

And in the beta process, Nev came back in and added the line about Ratchet and cuddling, which was a big hit with the readers it seems like. So clearly I benefitted from some help there haha!

Looking back, did you write more or less than you thought you would this year?

you know what, I definitely wrote more than I thought I would. I didn’t see “Don’t Sing Me No More Blues” coming at all, and that was once a month for most of the year. I was hoping that I would be able to write a few things outside of Transformers, because I always worry that my long spans of hyperfixation are driving away my longtime readers... and I did manage to get one hxh thing written that was good, and one hxh thing started that is mediocre so far. So I guess I’ll call that good enough.

 What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, just your favorite.

hmm I’m really proud of the Pharma chapter me and Choko put together for GPAU--the body horror, the tragedy, the lotus eater machine plot. But even though that felt like a whole ass story of its own, I guess it’s only a chapter at the end of the day. So my favorite story would be “Apotheosis”. It’s just SO much, and we had SO many things we wanted to do, and somehow we managed to do them ALL. Corpses! Children! God! It’s got everything! The only thing it doesn’t have is the idea that literally started us plotting out the fic. And that was “ritual public sex with Starscream and Rung”. Oh well. Maybe someday. Probably not.

Okay, Now your most popular story

Ha! I tend to view the success of a fic more based on its bookmark ratio than its hit count, but by the numbers, unsurprisingly, “ Don't Sing Me No More Blues” is my most popular fic of the year at a whopping 3k hits and 113 bookmarks. Well, it is jazz/prowl which means it has a built in audience of considerable size, and it also updated seven times this year which increases its net range, so no surprise. But I think people also just really vibed with it--it’s very much a product of the times we are living in, and I don’t think it could have been written in any year except for 2020. 

“Dress Your Idol” has 58 bookmarks, by the way. I’m extremely proud of that fic for having such a high bookmark to view ratio. I guess the people who did read it liked it a lot.

Story most underappreciated in its Time.

Okay nothing is as under-exposed as the stuff I produced in JTHM, so I’m definitely not complaining. It’s hard to think about leaving TF because TF is such an enthusiastic community. That said, “ Neggnog Cozy” did not get eyeballs. I’m not surprised, it’s short and it’s gen, and Thundercracker doesn’t have the built in audience of say Starscream. Still, I thought it was really funny and cute and I would have liked it if more people would have given it a chance.

Story that could have been better

Oh, “ Melusine Among the Tombs” for sure. I went into that with only the first chapter planned and immediately after realized that I had no idea where the fic was going and also I had lost my grip on canon characterization after a couple years going rusty in other fandoms. I plan to finish it eventually, but I need a better plan than “wing it???” first.

Sexiest Story

I wrote SO much weird kink this year. Like. Shout out to past me for writing some pretty spicy JTHM fic, but this year I really leaned into how weird you can plausibly get with an all robot all alien cast. 

“ The Sensual Machine” is the most unabashedly horny because it was written specifically for a weird kink themed zine that I was an editor on. “Desecrate You” is also quite horny but I almost exclusively wrote the frame device for that, so I don’t get sexy credit lmao. “Fear and Delight” was a big hit with all the hxh readers and I think it has an element of sexiness more so than pure horniness--its has a kind of glamour and style to it.

Most fun story

“Starscream's Sexy Staycation” is by far the most unabashedly comic and sexy and silly and low stakes. It has one of my favorite kinks, a beautiful stupid moment of Ratchet suffering, and Rung calling safeword which is something new and fresh and I want a lot more of it in the world.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

“ Lacunae” was given to me as a yule gift prompt with the express intention of explaining who the fuck Carmilla’s mother was, and what the deal is with Carmilla as well. This would have forced me to reevaluate my understanding of the novel except for the TEENSY insignificant fact that I realized I had never finished reading Carmilla, somehow, and ended up reading it for the first time in December in preparation for yule. So uh. Hmm.

I think “ Don't Sing Me No More Blues” made me think about Prowl in a different way. I wasn’t really expecting him to be this hard-edged idealist when I started out on the fic. He was originally going to be much more like the autistic coded Prowl of “The Cop and the Cryptid,” one of my favorite fics ever. Also, I started writing the fic about a month before the riots and police protest kicked off in America this year, and it really caused me to zero in on how Prowl being part of a system like that affects his relationship to the world and other characters.

Hardest Story to Write

“ Elegy for Actaeon of the Hounds” took me a total of six months to write from start to finish. I don’t know why. Well, It’s partly because there are three involved sex scenes and sex scenes are actually very difficult and time consuming for me to write. It’s also partly because I kept wanting it to have a character arc, and I kept getting stumped on how to handle that. Beauty and the Beast plot lift? Have Rodimus be a rabbit? Eventually I settled on the version that kept the cast tightly cinched down around Megatron and Rung, and I’m happy with the result.

Easiest Story to Write

When we were writing “Apotheosis” it felt like we were on FIRE, we were so productive and we started three other projects between us while it was in motion. But “Take One For the Team” was absolutely the most fun to write, it basically wrote itself

Most Overdue Story

“Champagne in the Final Days of Rome” was based off a conversation I had with Nev pretty early on in our friendship--Discord says it was June 2019, so that’s uhhh ten months between discussion to actual writing? And it still didn’t turn out to be the fic we were originally outlining, haha.

Oh god you know what was really the most overdue? The last chapter of “Icarus; or, Look Who's Digging His Own Grave”. It was literally a year, January to January, between chapter 12 and 13. For a while I thought maybe I was just going to have to leave it there, without resolving the time loop problem at all.

Did you take writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing for the zine was a big risk. I remember Nev had to reassure me at least twice that what I was writing wasn’t too weird or off-topic or embarrassing to be part of the project. Now, of course, I’m very happy with it. But my god I was nervous to post something that was like.... straight up actually bimboification applied to one of the most popular toy characters of all time.

What I learned from this is that people love horny shit, are READY to take a chance on a weird fic when its in the right wrapping paper, and when in doubt you CAN sell people on a kink they’re not really into by making the kink actually a reflection of a character arc. Are you writing this down?

Do you have any goals for writing in the new year?

Finish GPAU!!!!!!

I’d like to FINALLY sit down and do some hard work on my original fiction. I’ve been kind of waiting for the tf hyperfixation to wane so I could move forward, and I think that process is in motion now. But who knows. If Rung shows up in the new comics I might get nerfed again.

Other than that I’d like to write at least one fanfic that isn’t TF, and I would like to get this really crunchy Rung/Pharma fic off the ground so I can make some people CRY

[eurosong]

My ESC ‘20 ranking

Good morning folks, on this rather melancholy “Eurovision day.” Whilst this year may be cancelled and its songs pretty callously binned by the EBU, 2020 was a diverse year that deserves taking a close look at too, so here goes my customary full ranking of the year. I express some candid opinions, but they are just my take on things, no shade intended if you disagree.

41. Estonia - What love is It’s always most difficult to pick a last place because, no matter how sleek Eurovision gets, there are still a few abject horrors that sneak into the contest. With a score that would have been dated 30 years back, and lyrics that manage the peculiar double act of being both pompous and anodyne, this is horrid enough before Uku’s dubious xenophobic comments and his prevailing over a field of much more compelling songs get taken into account.

40. Macedonia - You The Macedonians, having achieved their best result ever last year (I’m happy for them, but also, Kaliopi deserved that), decided that they soared too close to the sun with Proud and decided to crash land this year to build their energy to soar again. That’s the only reasonable explanation I have for this effort which deeply repels me, doubling down on Luca Hänni’s “cocky guy in a sleazy bar” æsthetics and adds to it even worse lyrics, castrato singing and the unintended levity of the interpreter being far more interested in the bartender. Also one of a maddening number of duplicate titles that were nowhere near as good as the originals.

39. Cyprus - Running What is this void in the space of a song? I’ve listened to it dozens of times to do ratings over the past months. I’m still left with an icy emptiness because it does nothing to me, says nothing to me. The only thing that I can say in its favour is that it’s not a replay of replay aka Fuego 3. That’s it. It’s like it’s designed to leave little impression and hope to cruise by on diaspora and friendly votes alone.

38. Austria - Alive Austria have been on an interesting Eurovision journey, going from winning with Conchita to serving up this chirpy homophobe doing his best impression of Timberlake. A monumental step back from the singular tenderness of Pænda.

37. France - Mon alliée (The best in me) La déception de l’année sans doute. France, one of Europe’s cultural powerhouses, really said “forget Destination Eurovision, which showcased our music scene’s diversity and was one of the fandom’s favourite newer NFs. Let’s abolish it all and bring in the guys who made Bigger than us, because we really want a piece of that Big 5 bottom place action! Let’s throw away our cultural caché and get something about as French as flatpack furniture!”

This is like going to a pricey restaurant in Paris, expecting haute cuisine and instead getting some microwave-reheated IKEA köttbullar. And can we talk about how Amir of J’ai cherché fame is partly to “thank” for this in one of the biggest heel turns of the year? It’s like he wanted to ensure that France TV beg him to return by safeguarding his excellent score from being equalled. I also have to say, Tom Leeb seems like a nice guy with a good voice. He did his best to salvage this with the acoustic version, which lifts it up a few places. But not so many given that that Westlife reject b-side ending with a key change remains.

36. Germany - Violent thing Speaking of major cultural players dumping their national finals for no good reason, guten Tag, Deutschland! Germany once had one of the best and certainly most diverse NFs going. Instead of dumping Barbara Schönenberger as hostess - every year she’s presented, Germany have had calamity, and the one year they did well, 2018, she wasn’t host - they decided to pin all their hopes on a bewildered looking gossoon from Slovenia with yet another Timberclone song and some rather dubious live vox. As his countrywoman Lea Sirk said, it’s a hvala ne from me.

35. Spain - Universo Yes, it’s another year of the Big 5 not living up to its automatic qualification rights (except you, Italy, thank you for being the exception to the rule.) So here we’ve got a bland effort from Spain to avoid being bottom 5, except that ain’t how ESC works - you need something to get people to waste their money on voting for your song. And for me, this surely is not it. This was a bit higher on my ranking before because there are more objectively objectionable songs out there. But the nonsensical, repetitive lyrics, the painful attempt at a high note on perdónameeee, and getting stuck on a bus where I had to put up said screeching being played 5+ times means #35 is about right for where it deserves.

34. Armenia - Chains on you Armenia, usually a reliable mainstay in the top half of my listings at least, instead served up one of the most bewilderingly impalatable NFs of the season where every song sounded imported from the ESC anni horribili of the 00s. This has grown on me a little bit - I like tin drums and I like her weird accent - but the lyrics are amongst the year’s most pitiful (“ya wanna take me to a party, because you’re naughty”) and it just feels cheep to me. 33. Bulgaria - Tears getting sober I don’t see the appeal in this bewildering merger of dirge and Disney, and this is coming from someone who likes melancholic music more times than not. I find this one straight up unpleasant to listen to. The lyrics are of someone passive-aggressively glorying in the pain they wallow in to return the hurt, in “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” style. The syrupy score replete with key change is a bizarre, ghoulish accompaniment. Only this high because I recognise some artistic merit in its production.

32. Azerbaijan - Cleopatra Are Azerbaijan now at the stage where they’ve decided to pastiche themselves? The country with the worst LGBT rights of all contesting ESC having the monumental neck to send a song about “gay or straight or in between”? The country who have almost religiously avoided sending anything with any actual Azeri national character or heritage sending a song written by a Canadian, an American and a Frisian about a Greek-Egyptian ruler with a Japanese mantra and Latin affectations, so sending us around the world to pretty much everywhere except Azerbaijan? What can I say in favour of it? It’s a little bit catchy. So are venereal diseases.

31. Poland - Empires How can a country who started their ESC journey with aplomb - and experimental gems like Sama and Chcę znać swój grzech - and who continue to serve in the junior contest, how can they be so almost studiedly bland in ESC these days? This is our 564th knockoff Bond tune, sung a little awkwardly and with lyrics written by a Year 8 who’s been given a creätive writing assignment where they have to use metaphors. “We’re gasoline and a match!” Wow. If it passed to the final, it would only because of loyal Poles abroad.

30. Greece - Superg!rl We leave the territory of complete dirges and enter that of songs I can sort of live with. This one’s a huge step back for the Hellenes though after the gorgeous Better love. Its odd chorus is memorable, but not for the best reasons. Its saving grace is its unintentionally humorous promotional video. A better use of those superpowers would have been to come up with a better song.

29. Moldova - Prison Remember the fun Moldova that used to bring songs like Hora din Moldova and Lautar, with some actual national flavour and flair? That’s long gone. Even the Moldova that brought terrible songs but fun stagings, like that of My lucky day, seems far lost into the fogs of time too. Another wholly unremarkable and mediocre production of the Scream Team that would be lucky to scrape into the finals.  28. Belgium - Release me Has Belgium learnt absolutely nothing in the years Blanche where the wheels of their ESC renaissance have fallen decidedly off? My feeling is no. I have to salute them to some degree for creating nice, very musical compositions, but just like in the past two years, they have forgotten to add a few key elements: some sense of progression or dynamism. This plods along repetitively on one track, one note, and that note is nice enough as background music, but my hunch is that track would have led them to another unsurprising “surprise” NQ.

27. Serbia - Hasta la vista It’s an earworm, but some earworms leave you wanting to get an aural exorcism. Somehow, some sort of collective insanity overcame Serbia and they decided to dump on their beautiful oeuvre of songs, go completely against their trend for qualitative, classical, brooding, orchestral music by instead picking a bunch of time travellers who had been a third rate girl band in Transnistria. How enough Serbians thought they’d win over Europe by going for a sound that was dated even when they made their début bemuses me. 26. UK - My last breath The UK are really soaring high in my rankings as... the last amongst the 26 songs that would make up my notional perfect final. Baby steps. I still think it’s pretty lame how the BBC tanked their own national final for this. It’s not so adventurous. It has so little to say that it’s half a minute shorter than the ESC standard and yet still consists of repetition. It has one of the most annoying chorus quirks with that beat in “my last... breath.” How did this get up this high again?

25. Albania - Fall from the sky It absolutely pains my heart to put Albania out of the top 20 after two thunderous years in which they captured my gold and bronze respectively. What makes it worse is that they could have had a perfect hat-trick, because the original, Albanian language version “Shaj” was my #1 song from December up until mid-March when they released this thin gruel of a revamp with all the things that gave Shaj some authenticity and flavour gone, and with beautiful, heart-rending lyrics replaced with cliché. Only this high because there are plenty of worse songs.

24. Czechia - Kemama I have a soft spot for poor Benny, the interpreter of this song. Ok, so it beat a field containing some vastly superior songs, but it’s nice to have a Czech song without weird lyrics about women for the first time in a while, and the way the kid was put through the ringer for his more Afrobeat-influenced revamp made me sad. For me, it gained a bit of flavour with that change. The lyrics are still poor but I like the colourful musical backdrop.

23. Israël - Feker libi 🇮🇱 Sometimes, you don’t think much of a song but the artist elevates it enormously. Such is the case with Feker libi, a bizarre pot pourri of styles with a very discordant tropical verse (which I like), mid-90s dance track chorus (which I don’t), middle eastern post-chorus and African-sounding outro (jury’s out on both.) Yet Eden Alene is so full of natural charm and exudes “I want to be your friend” that I can’t help but rewatch just because of how joyous she makes it.

22. San Marino - Freaky 🇸🇲 Speaking of atypical countries flying high in my ranking, all was set for San Marrano to take non-pride of place at the bottom of my ranks yet again, but somehow, I ended up quite enjoying their track this year. Yes, San Marino is still a weird zone where, when you descend to Rimini in Italy, you enter the new millennium, but returning up the tiny nation’s steep slopes, you head back to a time in the 70s when disko was king. This disco is fun though. In part thanks to Senhit, a sympathetic performer who deserved more in 2011, in part the lyrics - who doesn’t want to rip up the rules, write new ones and then destroy them too?

22. Switzerland - Répondez-moi It’s nice to have the Swiss singing in a national language for the first time in ages. It’s also nice that they didn’t fall back on their success with Hänni by going with a similar so-called bOp. I also really love some of the artist’s other tracks, like Babi. And I liked this a fair bit more upon first listen, but the combination of less than stellar lyrics - just a succession of somewhat emoïsh rhetorical questions; just because they’re in French, doesn’t make them deep - and a wailing falsetto have made my will to relisten to this often take a serious hit for me. A shame, as musically, it has some undoubted quality. 20. Denmark - Yes ��🇰 Denmark seems to be doubling down on 2019 to develop its new niche - catchy, sweet but ultimately a little overly gooey love songs. There’s always something a little bit imperfect about them though: last year it was Leonora’s serial killer-esque nervous gaze; this year, it’s the “I’m not going to even try to make pretend we’re an item” lack of energy from Tan. It’s a little bit too reheated “Little talks” but it’s decent enough.

19. Russia - Uno 🇷🇺 When this first was released, days after the deadline for submitting songs, I was pretty peeved at what seemed like a pisstake against the contest, a bizarre rehash of Aqua for the meme age. And yet.. maybe it’s the quarantine slowly driving me insane, maybe it’s the sheer infectiousness of this that just makes you want to dance, maybe it’s the epic energy of the backing singer (Rosa from Brooklyn 99’s twin) who looks like she wants to kill everyone else... but I’ve actually grown to like this enough to put it top 20. I’m not always entirely predictable!

18. Norway - Attention 🇳🇴 There’s a lot of things that tick my yes boxes with this song, like the beautiful orchestral music laid out by the famed Mørland or the simple but sincere performance. There are also things that take a Sharpie and scrawl in my no boxes too, like the somewhat whiny tone of the vocals or the adolescent and lyrics which, with their “oy’d change anyffink abaat moyself fur a boi” tone, don’t flatter the singer, and from Mørland, I expect better. There’s more good than bad here though, and it has been an earworm since the day it was selected.

17. Belarus - Da widna 🇧🇾 I don’t know what was in the water this year, but we got a bunch of great Slavic language songs, including from countries that don’t typically send songs except in English. I like the chilled out vibe and the curious lyrics. Their live version for Eurovision Home Concerts with just an acoustic guitar sounded a whole lot better, I must say.

16. Australia - Don’t break me 🇦🇺 I’m finally overcoming the horror of the bizarre clown mise-en-scène complete with ropey lyrics at Australia decides and judging this on its potential. Hands down Australia’s best entry at the contest for me. Musically, it’s strong, and lyrically, it’s compelling and very saudadic. I’m sad we won’t see what a glow-up their final staging could have provided. I really hope it wouldn’t have involved clowns, which seriously tanked the song in my ranking for months, no joke.

15. Portugal - Medo de sentir 🇵🇹 A Portuguese entry outside of my top ten? Given their form with me since 2015, this might seem like a harbinger of the apocalypse. I still like it quite a bit, but there are stronger songs this time. It’s heartfelt, the lyrics are powerful (about being afraid to feel again after being hurt) and the melody is pretty. The live was a bit cagey especially because of the not particularly well synchronised voices of Elisa and the pianist, who composed the song. Still a very nice song and it is great to see Portugal staying faithful to its language, but I can’t help but feel sad that songs more in line with its riskier, more trailblazing previous few years. Passe-partout or Gerbera amarela do sul would have been in my top 3 like last year.

14. Latvia - Still breathing 🇱🇻 If you told me in January that not only would this song not be disliked, it’d also end up in my top 15 of the year, I’m sure incredulous laughter would have been the most polite response you’d have probably gotten. And yet - the song I couldn’t stand in Supernova has won me over and I do want to see Samanta Tina return for 2021 since she evidently cares so deeply about ESC so is pretty much one of us. I’ve come to love the weirdness of the track - real meat and gravy given the number of anodyne tracks - the iconic pre-corona hygienic leitmotif of its staging. ST’s joie de vivre and command of the stage. It’d be a guilty pleasure except I don’t feel guilty for it.

13. Georgia - Take me as I am 🇬🇪 Georgia once again are dancing to the beats of their very anarchic drummer and I love them for that. This thinly veiled swipe at both the Big 5 coasting in mediocrity and at narrow-minded fans’ reäctions to Georgia’s extremely varied oeuvre just hits the spot for me. I love the musicality of it, the dark electro-rock vibes, Tornike’s voice and how it blends perfectly with his captivating backing singers. I always vote with my feet for something different in an era where people are aiming to qualify with safe and bland rather than taking risks.

12. Romania - Alcohol you 🇷🇴 Roxen provided one of the most iconic moments of the season by deliberately tanking the ordained bop amongst her national final songs. Her eventual song is one of the most emotional of the year, and also one of the most surprisingly literary: there are tonnes of nuances, allusions, wordplays and so forth in this text, most of which are a lot more graceful than the titular terrible pun. I humbly put it to folk who thinks that this romanticises alcohol that they are missing the point - it’s instead being used as a metaphor for toxic relations which, by the end of the song, Roxen has broken away from. I love her voice, I love the music. It fell briefly out of my affections because of the weird mini-revamp, but it’s risen again.

11. Ukraine - Solowej 🇺🇦 It’s fabulous to see Ukraine singing a song entirely in their language and I hope this trend continues across the Slavic nations like was notable this year. The timeless folksy elements mixing with modern beats makes a curious and entrancing blend, delivered with aplomb. It takes where Poland 2019 went wrong and puts it right. I could have done without the unnecessary revamp, but it’s still one of the year’s freshest cuts. Well done, Widbir!

10. Slovenia - Voda 🇸🇮 In an age where the likes of Albania is stripping away all the beautiful orchestral flourishes of its entry to make a pared and muted revamp, Slovenia went full throttle in the opposite - and in my mind, right - direction and made one of the very few good revamps of the season. Performing with the Budapest philharmonic orchestra, Ana Soklič, who, for my money, has one of the best female voices of the year, unleashed the cinematic, sweeping beauty of Voda. I think this would have surprised many people by doing quite well. On musical and vocal merit alone, and adding to that the subdued saudade of its lyrics, it deserved a lot more love.

09 Malta - All of my love 🇲🇹 In 2018, I would have sooner said that it was more probable for me to have become Grand-Duke of Luxembourg than it was for me to have loved a Maltese song, let alone two i n a r o w. I didn’t expect much of this at all, because I expected we’d get a wailing vocal exhibition, as Ian used to say, focused on exhibiting Destiny’s range rather than giving her a genuinely good song. But this is a genuinely good song. Once again, I love for the gospel edge it has, and Destiny’s vocals soar to impressive heights, without feeling unnatural or ostentatious. I should have known to expect good things with the regal Cesár Sampson on board.

08 Lithuania - On fire 🇱🇹 Prior to this year, few people had any hopes for Lithuania’s long-winded national final selection process. The idea of it being must-watch viewing when there were many other more compelling choices on offer was hilarious. In 2020, that changed. They changed the name to the hilarious but hopeful “Let’s try again”, had a number of fantastic songs, and became one of the most diverse and qualitative highlights of the NF season. The eventual winners, The Roop, deserved the accolade with this cool, super contemporary track with a brilliant dance routine and a genuinely important message about not giving up on yourself.

07. Sweden - Move 🇸🇪 At MF this year, the Swedes put a match to its protracted ‘cocky fuckboi with polished, soulless overproduced pop song’ era, hopefully for good, with an all-female top 4. I will always lament Dotter missing out narrowly, but I’ve still been brought plenty of joy by the radiant Mamas with their fabulous hand-choreography and genuine warmth, and this song of resilience through the tough times. I love gospel-tinged music and this really makes me smile.

06 Ireland - The story of my life 🇮🇪 Before this was announced, I heard Ireland’s track being compared to the oeuvre of pretty much every major 00s female pop star. I was quizzical, but upon hearing it, could see why. In a year with a lot of beige, this is just one big orange and yellow blast of colourful late 90s/early 00s nostalgia, hope, resilience. The kind of anthem I never knew I needed but came right on time. I can’t listen to its wry, conversational lyrics without wanting to dance along. And Lesley Roy herself is an icon. My favourite effort from Ireland since Playing by numbers, and I really hope she returns in 2021.

05 Finland - Looking back 🇫🇮 I’ll never forget a mural in the part of València where I used to live that said “we’re not different for the sake of being different”, and that could sum up my attitudes to Eurovision. Whilst it seemed almost everyone was behind Cicciolina in Finland, I had scant hope for my favourite, and was blown away when it actually did win. This melancholy meditation on the passing of time and people - “we never know what we have until it’s over and we’re looking back” - became emblematic of this year for me and added to what was already a really poignant and moving track. I love the musical style too and the smoothness of Aksel’s voice and how it contrasts with his evident awkward shyness. It has moved me so much that it had to end up top 5.

04 Croatia - Divlji vjetre 🇭🇷 I always will represent and bring love for the Balkans and their adhesion to their musical traditions. This was one of the most pleasant surprises of the NF season for me - I was expecting very little from Croatia, and instead, it greeted me with this beauty. You have the understated classic grace of the music, the exquisite melancholy and poeticism of the lyrics, and one of the finest male vocals of the season. My favourite Croatian track in almost 15 years.

03 Italy - Fai rumore 🇮🇹 Sanremo isn’t just a national final, it’s a cultural experience that digs into your heart over the course of a whole week. This was one of the most memorable I have followed yet - and what a truly deserving winner. It’s just another example of the seemingly endless supply of heartfelt tunes by classy, sincere performers that Italy has on tap, with one of the best lyrics of the contest and the extra level of poignancy from how the lyrical theme of isolation would come to represent us all.

02 Iceland - Think about things 🇮🇸 One of my nerviest and happiest moments of the entire NF season was seeing Daði Freyr and friends win Söngvakeppnin in Iceland. As much as I loved Svala’s Paper, I had also adored his song three years prior - the delightfully awkward and similarly irrepressably earwormy Is this love. And now he was back with a groovy, fun, heartwarming tune about fatherhood that has only continued to grow in my estimations. The bridge still full on gives me goosebumps. It’s the kind of song that just makes me marvel at being human and being on this earth.

01 Netherlands - Grow 🇳🇱 My top few songs are all very closely entwined so much so that they could be considered joint winners, but I’ve been pretty unequivocal ever since Shaj got torpedoed by its revampire: silver turned to gold and my previous 2nd place, Grow, became my new favourite. I love the heartfelt, sparsely poëtic, bravely confessional lyrics. I love the way that it goes from something minimalist and intimate with just organ and voice and slowly builds upon the hints of gospel to something truly anthemic. Such a meticulous arrangement where there’s not a single sound out of place. This song is pure art and, like Soldi, Mall, APD and all those preceding songs which had the magic of being my personal favourite, it moves me upon every listen.

[keyofjetwolf]

Old Grandpa Shovel

I’ve technically gone through our time today, but I know answers to these two questions have been nibbling at some of you for a surprisingly long time, so I’ll go a bit over today to slake your thirst for knowledge. Come then, friends, come and hear the second of two tales that have nothing at all to do with each other.

~~~

Old Grandpa Shovel

I’m actually a bit nervous that this one isn’t in any way going to live up to the near mythical levels of hype it appears to have reached by this point, but I shall do my best!

As with most humans, I spring from the collision of two sets of DNA. On the paternal side of things, we have an assortment of sterling characters. For example, we have the horse thief who, in effort to evade the lawmen chasing after him, took what became my family name when he ran off, NOT with the woman he’d conned into marrying him, but her younger sister. Such as the G-Man who was described in a book published just a couple years ago in 2018, as “dangerously ignorant”, “arrogant”, and “entitled”. Oh, AND he was delightfully racist! I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP

Real quality stock, as you can see.

There’s much less of this on my maternal side, at least as far as I’m aware. While my father’s side has more the boring stuff, in the sense of being fairly pedestrian or just generally bad at shit, my mother’s side is colourful, with fascinating niches of unexpected nobility, and fulfilling proud and important work like being Henry VIII’s last Groom of the Stool. That literally means he wiped Henry’s ass. Again, I am not making this up.

One other thing my mother’s side of the family has going for her, though?

THESE ARE SOME CRAZY ASS MOTHERFUCKERS

Fast-forward from the glamorous time of the Tudors to what would have probably been the mid to late 1800s. London is booming, Victoria is Queen, and my great-grandfather is certifiably insane.

As the story goes, it was a fairly ordinary day in London. I assume the English were oppressing someone somewhere, and the skies were thick and black with the promise of lung cancer to come. Sadly, the motivations for this event are but one of the many details that have been lost to time, but for the sake of the story, I will fill in the blanks as best I can.

My great-grandfather was a home one day, making himself a sandwich of organ meat and Heinz baked beans, when he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of incredible rage. Somehow, someway, he knew -- HE KNEW -- one of his descendants would be retelling this story, poorly, to a bunch of strangers she’d never met, on a magic box connected to other magic boxes by way of magic, and HOOO BOY did this piss him off! He took a savage bite of his sandwich, wiped the bean juice from his chin, and slammed down a pint of Bass.

“Right then!” he said to nobody but the future. “Nothing for it but to kill me brother.”

And plan to kill his brother he did! He walked through the tiny house into the tinier back garden, and found a shovel somewhere buried under the rubble from the oh wait the Blitz hadn’t happened yet. HISTORY, AM I RIGHT?? Anyway, there’s rubble here for some reason totally not related to Hitler who hasn’t even been born yet, and so now my great-grandfather has a shovel and a garden and a serious urge to murder.

He spend the next hour or so, the story says, furiously digging a grave. A grave for his brother. A grave for his still-living brother, with every intention of changing that state of being this very day. And once the grave is dug -- and I also am going to also say he made a little tombstone and carved his brother’s name on it and also possibly a baby duck and a little lamb and a tiny puppy, all peeing on said name -- he ducked behind a tree with that shovel and waited.

I don’t know how long he waited. It’s not exactly like he could send a text wondering where his brother was and what was taking so damned long. But I also suspect my great-grandfather didn’t have anywhere much else to be, so he probably waited a while. Maybe he had another Bass.

I also don’t know the size of the tree, and I admit, this is a bit of a sticking point for me in the story. It’s a tiny fucking one-up-one-down or some shit in the heart of just-post Industrial London, I am having legitimate trouble believing it’s anything much larger than a very fatigued sapling. But again, I must point out, THIS FUCKER HAS SPONTANEOUSLY DECIDED TO MURDER HIS BROTHER BUT TOOK THE TIME TO DIG THE GRAVE BUT THEN ALSO DUG THAT GRAVE IN HIS OWN BACKYARD, so clearly logic and rational thinking are not his highest-rated qualities.

My questions and concerns aside, my great-grandfather waited. And when his brother returned home, he was indeed attacked with that shovel.

The murder was ultimately unsuccessful, I assume because the brother was all, “I can see you, mate.” and the best response my great-grandfather had was “...no you can’t.” There was indeed a shovel-based attack, but the grave remained sadly unfilled, and my great-grandfather was disowned by the family.

Good show, GGdad!

And then eventually he had kids, and one of those kids had a kid, and then that kid had me, and here I am!

I AM TOTALLY NOT GOING TO DIG A GRAVE FOR ANYONE AND TRY TO KILL THEM WITH A SHOVEL

TOTALLY

I PROMISE

[bluewatsons]

Alice Bolin, The Ethical Dilemma of Highbrow True Crime, Vulture (August 1, 2018)

The “true-crime boom” of the mid- to late 2010s is a strange pop-culture phenomenon, given that it is not so much a new type of programming as an acknowledgement of a centuries-long obsession: People love true stories about murder and other brands of brutality and grift, and they have gorged on them particularly since the beginning of modern journalism. The serial fiction of Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins was influenced by the British public’s obsessive tracking of sensational true-crime cases in daily papers, and since then, we have hoarded gory details in tabloids and pulp paperbacks and nightly news shows and Wikipedia articles and Reddit threads.

I don’t deny these stories have proliferated in the past five years. Since the secret is out — “Oh you love murder? Me too!” — entire TV networks, podcast genres, and countless limited-run docuseries have arisen to satisfy this rumbling hunger. It is tempting to call this true-crime boom new because of the prestige sheen of many of its artifacts — Serial and Dirty John and The Jinx and Wild, Wild Country are all conspicuously well made, with lovely visuals and strong reporting. They have subtle senses of theme and character, and they often feel professional, pensive, quiet — so far from vulgar or sensational.

But well-told stories about crime are not really new, and neither is their popularity. In Cold Blood is a classic of American literature and The Executioner’s Song won the Pulitzer; Errol Morris has used crime again and again in his documentaries to probe ideas like fame, desire, corruption, and justice. The new true-crime boom is more simply a matter of volume and shamelessness: the wide array of crime stories we can now openly indulge in, with conventions of the true-crime genre more emphatically repeated and codified, more creatively expanded and trespassed against. In 2016, after two critically acclaimed series about the O.J. Simpson trial, there was talk that the 1996 murder of Colorado 6-year-old JonBenét Ramsey would be the next case to get the same treatment. It was odd, hearing O.J.: Made in America, the epic and depressing account of race and celebrity that won the Academy Award for Best Documentary, discussed in the same breath with the half-dozen unnecessary TV specials dredging up the Ramsey case. Despite my avowed love of Dateline, I would not have watched these JonBenét specials had a magazine not paid me to, and suffice it to say they did very little either to solve the 20-year-old crime (ha!) or examine our collective obsession with it.

Clearly, the insight, production values, or cultural capital of its shiniest products are not what drives this new wave of crime stories. O.J.: Made in America happened to be great and the JonBenét specials happened to be terrible, but producers saw them as part of the same trend because they knew they would appeal to at least part of the same audience. I’ve been thinking a lot about these gaps between high and low, since there are people who consume all murder content indiscriminately, and another subset who only allow themselves to enjoy the “smart” kind. The difference between highbrow and lowbrow in the new true crime is often purely aesthetic. It is easier than ever for producers to create stories that look good and seem serious, especially because there are templates now for a style and voice that make horrifying stories go down easy and leave the viewer wanting more. But for these so-called prestige true-crime offerings, the question of ethics — of the potential to interfere in real criminal cases and real people’s lives — is even more important, precisely because they are taken seriously.

Like the sensational tone, disturbing, clinical detail, and authoritarian subtext that have long defined schlocky true crime as “trash,” the prestige true-crime subgenre has developed its own shorthand, a language to tell its audience they’re consuming something thoughtful, college-educated, public-radio influenced. In addition to slick and creative production, highbrow true crime focuses on character sketches instead of police procedure. “We’re public radio producers who are curious about why people do what they do,” Phoebe Judge, the host of the podcast Criminal, said. Judge has interviewed criminals (a bank robber, a marijuana brownie dealer), victims, and investigators, using crime as a very simple window into some of the most interesting and complicated lives on the planet.

Highbrow true crime is often explicitly about the piece’s creator, a meta-commentary about the process of researching and reporting such consequential stories. Serial’s Sarah Koenig and The Jinx’s Andrew Jarecki wrestle with their boundaries with the subjects (Adnan Syed and Robert Durst, respectively, both of whom have been tried for murder) and whether they believe them. They sift through evidence and reconstruct timelines as they try to create a coherent narrative from fragments.

I remember saying years ago that people who liked Serial should try watching Dateline, and my friend joked in reply, “Yeah, but Dateline isn’t hosted by my friend Sarah.” One reason for the first season of Serial’s insane success — it is still the most-downloaded podcast of all time — is the intimacy audiences felt with Koenig as she documented her investigation of a Baltimore teenager’s murder in real time, keeping us up to date on every vagary of evidence, every interview, every experiment. Like the figure of the detective in many mystery novels, the reporter stands in for the audience, mirroring and orchestrating our shifts in perspective, our cynicism and credulity, our theories, prejudices, frustrations, and breakthroughs.

This is what makes this style of true crime addictive, which is the adjective its makers most crave. The stance of the voyeur, the dispassionate observer, is thrilling without being emotionally taxing for the viewer, who watches from a safe remove. (This fact is subtly skewered in Gay Talese’s creepy 2017 Netflix documentary, Voyeur.) I’m not sure how much of my eye-rolling at the popularity of highbrow true crime has to do with my general distrust of prestige TV and Oscar-bait movies, which are usually designed to be enjoyed in the exact same way and for the exact same reasons as any other entertainment, but also to make the viewer feel good about themselves for watching. When I wrote earlier that there are viewers who consume all true crime, and those who only consume “smart” true crime, I thought, “And there must be some people who only like dumb true crime.” Then I realized that I am sort of one of them.

There are specimens of highbrow true crime that I love, Criminal and O.J.: Made in America among them, but I truly enjoy Dateline much more than I do Serial, which in my mind is tedious to the edge of pointlessness. I find myself perversely complaining that good true crime is no fun — as self-conscious as it may be, it will never be as entertaining as the Investigation Discovery network’s output, most of which is painfully serious. (The list of ID shows is one of the most amusing artifacts on the internet, including shows called Bride Killas, Momsters: Moms Who Murder, and Sex Sent Me to the Slammer.) Susan Sontag famously defined camp as “seriousness that fails,” and camp is obviously part of the appeal of a show called Sinister Ministers or Southern Fried Homicide. Network news magazine shows like Dateline and 48 Hours are somber and melodramatic, often literally starting voice-overs on their true-crime episodes with variations of “it was a dark and stormy night.” They trade in archetypes — the perfect father, the sweet girl with big dreams, the divorcee looking for a second chance — and stick to a predetermined narrative of the case they’re focusing on, unconcerned about accusations of bias. They are sentimental and yet utterly graphic, clinical in their depiction of brutal crimes.

It’s always talked around in discussions of why people like true crime: It is … funny? The comedy in horror movies seems like a given, but it is hardly permitted to say that you are amused by true disturbing stories, out of respect for victims. But in reducing victims and their families to stock characters, in exaggerating murderers to superhuman monsters, in valorizing police and forensic scientists as heroic Everymen, there is dark humor in how cheesy and misguided these pulpy shows are, how bad we are at talking about crime and drawing conclusions from it, how many ways we find to distance ourselves from the pain of victims and survivors, even when we think we are honoring them. (The jokey titles and tongue-in-cheek tone of some ID shows seem to indicate more awareness of the inherent humor, but in general, the channel’s programming is almost all derivative of network TV specials.) I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but in its obvious failures, I enjoy this brand of true crime more straightforwardly than its voyeuristic, documentary counterpart, which, in its dignified guise, has maybe only perfected a method of making us feel less gross about consuming real people’s pain for fun.

Crime stories also might be less risky when they are more stilted, more clinical. To be blunt, what makes a crime story less satisfying are often the ethical guidelines that help reporters avoid ruining people’s lives. With the popularity of the podcasts S-Town and Missing Richard Simmons, there were conversations about the ethics of appropriating another person’s story, particularly when they won’t (or can’t) participate in your version of it. The questions of ethics and appropriation are even heavier when stories intersect with their subjects’ criminal cases, because journalism has always had a reciprocal relationship with the justice system. Part of the exhilarating intimacy of the first season of Serial was Koenig’s speculation about people who never agreed to be part of the show, the theories and rabbit holes she went through, the risks she took to get answers. But there is a reason most reporters do all their research, then write their story. It is inappropriate, and potentially libelous, to let your readers in on every unverified theory about your subject that occurs to you, particularly when wondering about a private citizen’s innocence or guilt in a horrific crime.

Koenig’s off-the-cuff tone had other consequences, too, in the form of amateur sleuths on Reddit who tracked down people involved with the case, pored over court transcripts, and reviewed cellular tower evidence, forming a shadow army of investigators taking up what they saw as the gauntlet thrown down by the show. The journalist often takes on the stance of the professional amateur, a citizen providing information in the public interest and using the resources at hand to get answers. At times during the first season of Serial, Koenig’s methods are laughably amateurish, like when she drives from the victim’s high school to the scene of the crime, a Best Buy, to see if it was possible to do it in the stated timeline. She is able to do it, which means very little, since the crime occurred 15 years earlier. Because so many of her investigative tools were also ones available to listeners at home, some took that as an invitation to play along.

This blurred line between professional and amateur, reporter and private investigator, has plagued journalists since the dawn of modern crime reporting. In 1897, amid a frenzied rivalry between newspaper barons William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer, true crime coverage was so popular that Hearst formed a group of reporters to investigate criminal cases called the “Murder Squad.” They wore badges and carried guns, forming essentially an extralegal police force who both assisted and muddled official investigations. Seeking to get a better story and sell more papers, it was common for reporters to trample crime scenes, plant evidence, and produce dubious witnesses whose accounts fit their preferred version of the case. And they were trying to get audiences hooked in very similar ways, by crowdsourcing information and encouraging readers to send in tips.

Of course the producers of Serial never did anything so questionable as the Murder Squad, though there are interesting parallels between the true-crime podcast and crime coverage in early daily newspapers. They were both innovations in the ways information was delivered to the public that sparked unexpectedly personal, participatory, and impassioned responses from their audiences. It’s tempting to say that we’ve come full circle, with a new true-crime boom that is victim to some of the same ethical pitfalls of the first one: Is crime journalism another industry deregulated by the anarchy of the internet? But as Michelle Dean wrote of Serial, “This is exactly the problem with doing journalism at all … You might think you are doing a simple crime podcast … and then you become a sensation, as Serial has, and the story falls to the mercy of the thousands, even millions, of bored and curious people on the internet.”

Simply by merit of their popularity, highbrow crime stories are often riskier than their lowbrow counterparts. Kathryn Schulz wrote in The New Yorker about the ways the makers of the Netflix series Making a Murderer, in their attempt to advocate for the convicted murderer Steven Avery, omit evidence that incriminates him and put forth an incoherent argument for his innocence. Advocacy and intervention are complicated actions for journalists to undertake, though they are not novel. Schulz points to a scene in Making a Murderer where a Dateline producer who is covering Avery is shown saying, “Right now murder is hot.” In this moment the creators of Making a Murderer are drawing a distinction between themselves and Dateline, as Schulz writes, implying that, “unlike traditional true-crime shows … their work is too intellectually serious to be thoughtless, too morally worthy to be cruel.” But they were not only trying to invalidate Avery’s conviction; they (like Dateline, but more effectively) were also creating an addictive product, a compelling story.

That is maybe what irks me the most about true crime with highbrow pretensions. It appeals to the same vices as traditional true crime, and often trades in the same melodrama and selective storytelling, but its consequences can be more extreme. Adnan Syed was granted a new trial after Serial brought attention to his case; Avery was denied his appeal, but people involved in his case have nevertheless been doxxed and threatened. I’ve come to believe that addictiveness and advocacy are rarely compatible. If they were, why would the creators of Making a Murderer have advocated for one white man, when the story of being victimized by a corrupt police force is common to so many people across the U.S., particularly people of color?

It does feel like a shame that so many resources are going to create slick, smart true crime that asks the wrong questions, focusing our energy on individual stories instead of the systemic problems they represent. But in truth, this is is probably a feature, not a bug. I suspect the new true-crime obsession has something to do with the massive, terrifying problems we face as a society: government corruption, mass violence, corporate greed, income inequality, police brutality, environmental degradation, human-rights violations. These are large-scale crimes whose resolutions, though not mysterious, are also not forthcoming. Focusing on one case, bearing down on its minutia and discovering who is to blame, serves as both an escape and a means of feeling in control, giving us an arena where justice is possible.

Skepticism about whether journalists appropriate their subjects’ stories, about high and low, and about why we enjoy the crime stories we do, all swirl through what I think of as the post–true-crime moment. Post–true crime is explicitly or implicity about the popularity of the new true-crime wave, questioning its place in our culture, and resisting or responding to its conventions. One interesting document of post–true crime is My Favorite Murder and other “comedy murder podcasts,” which, in retelling stories murder buffs have heard on one million Investigation Discovery shows, unpack the ham-fisted clichés of the true-crime genre. They show how these stories appeal to the most gruesome sides of our personalities and address the obvious but unspoken fact that true crime is entertainment, and often the kind that is as mindless as a sitcom. Even more cutting is the Netflix parody American Vandal, which both codifies and spoofs the conventions of the new highbrow true crime, roasting the genre’s earnest tone in its depiction of a Serial-like investigation of some lewd graffiti.

There is also the trend in the post–true-crime era of dramatizing famous crime stories, like in The Bling Ring; I, Tonya; and Ryan Murphy’s anthology series American Crime Story, all of which dwell not only on the stories of infamous crimes but also why they captured the public imagination. There is a camp element in these retellings, particularly when famous actors like John Travolta and Sarah Paulson are hamming it up in ridiculous wigs. But this self-consciousness often works to these projects’ advantage, allowing them to show heightened versions of the cultural moments that led to the most outsize tabloid crime stories. Many of these fictionalized versions take journalistic accounts as their source material, like Nancy Jo Sales’s reporting in Vanity Fair for The Bling Ring and ESPN’s documentary on Tonya Harding, The Price of Gold, for I, Tonya. This seems like a best-case scenario for prestige true crime to me: parsing famous cases from multiple angles and in multiple genres, trying to understand them both on the level of individual choices and cultural forces.

Perhaps the most significant contributions to post–true crime, though, are the recent wave of personal accounts about murder and crime: literary memoirs like Down City by Leah Carroll, Mean by Myriam Gurba, The Hot One by Carolyn Murnick, After the Eclipse by Sarah Perry, and We Are All Shipwrecks by Kelly Grey Carlisle all tell the stories of murder seen from close-up. (It is significant that all of these books are by women. Carroll, Perry, and Carlisle all write about their mothers’ murders, placing them in the tradition of James Ellroy’s great memoir My Dark Places, but without the tortured, fetish-y tone.) This is not a voyeuristic first person, and the reader can’t detach and find joy in procedure; we are finally confronted with the truth of lives upended by violence and grief. There’s also Ear Hustle, the brilliant podcast produced by the inmates of San Quentin State Prison. The makers of Ear Hustle sometimes contemplate the bad luck and bad decisions that led them to be incarcerated, but more often they discuss the concerns of daily life in prison, like food, sex, and how to make mascara from an inky page from a magazine. This is a crime podcast that is the opposite of sensational, addressing the systemic truth of crime and the justice system, in stories that are mundane, profound, and, yes, addictive.

[esbarrison-writing]

Insights: My Thirteen Year Long Path to Publishing

I would not recommend that anyone goes through my insane publication process. It’s stressful, time consuming, but I hope it will pay off.

It starts when I was thirteen.

Enter Ms. Black’s English Class: I’m an aspiring writer already, with some little story pocketed away. Do I remember what it was? Not really. But it was the first thing that really sparked my interest in writing.

One day in October, Ms. Black told the class that our job was to write a suspenseful horror story inspired by authors like Edgar Allen Poe, in the spirit of Halloween of course. So, I wracked my little thirteen-year old brain. Horror wasn’t necessarily a genre I wrote, but suspense was something I enjoyed.

The idea started simple: an old priest, knowing his death would be soon, sat in his church writing a letter in red ink. He heard a hysterical woman in the graveyard, so he abandoned his writing and hurried out to hear the commotion. The woman was screaming because a bell beside the grave, known as a safety coffin, was ringing, and there was not a breeze in the air. The priest tried to calm her, but to no avail.

This is where I was caught off guard though. The woman transformed in my story from a terrified young lady…to the fierce and stunning Goddess of Death, or Grim Reaper.

This is my notorious Woman in Black. She was the first character I developed for The Mist Keeper’s Apprentice, and frankly, she hasn’t changed much over the years.

Granted, the story has undergone multiple makeovers. Names of characters have changed. Personalities altered. But with a few central themes: conflict in an ancient council, a kind-hearted protagonist, and strong women of different personalities.

So let’s go back to the beginning. From the age thirteen to eighteen, I worked on this story. Initially it was called simply “Apprentice”, then “Discipulus”, which was the name it kept for a long time. It took place in the modern world, the main characters were highschoolers, and honestly I was probably way in over my head. But I still wrote an entire five book series (Discipulus, Medius, Venator, Proditor, and Dominus). It was an accomplishment! I was proud of myself!

I think I wrote over five drafts of Discipulus alone.

Then college came. I abandoned them for three years after my story was accused of being childish.

I’m glad I did.

I grew beyond what I initially wrote. After three years of learning more about myself, I knew where I had gone wrong.

So I scrapped everything.

Okay, okay, scrapped is the wrong word. I have the original files backed up, but after trying to keep the premise the same, I knew it just wouldn’t work.

I wish I could tell you how I came to the revelation. Yet, no matter how I wrack my brain, I can’t. I think it comes down to how the story never really left me. It was always there, waiting to be taken again.

Over the course of a few more years, I worked on rewriting my novel. I kept the name Discipulus for the time being, but knew the change would ultimately come.

I finished the revised draft one sometime in early 2018. Then by mid-year, I came up with the name…The Mist Keeper’s Apprentice.

I was so proud, and I thought the idea was fleshed out entirely by the time I looked for beta readers in late 2018. A few circumstances led me to believe that was not the case: an overly ambitious beta reading plan, a low response rate, and the few readers that did finish pointing out the flaws.

In early 2019, I reassessed, and rewrote over half the novel.

It was worth it.

Beta readers loved the story. Over 70% of those interested finished, and they raved and loved the book! So, at the end of 2019 I knew that this year, 2020, I would finally publish this story. I sent it to an editor, Charlie Knight, who helped make the story stronger, hired my cover artist, and got to work.

I’m two and a half months now from the book’s release. I can go on about why I chose to indie publish, but I think that’s a story for another day.

Needless to say, the point of this rambling is to say this: don’t give up. It’s a lot of work, no one is every going to say it’s easy, but if you stick with it and are willing to adjust due to criticism, you will soar.

Will this 13 year journey of mine pay off? I don’t know. But I am proud of what I have put together.

And isn’t that all that matters?

Originally Posted on esbarrison-author.com

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The Mist Keeper’s Apprentice is a Fantasy Novel coming out on June 14th, 2020! Be sure to follow for updates.

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[samrosemodblog]

Looking back at my art from the 2010s. I went through and picked 1 piece I drew/wrote from each year that I felt either showed off my best art, my most iconic art, my best improvement, or was simply a personal favorite of mine.

There were a lot of possible choices and it was kind of difficult to narrow it down to 1 per year, since each piece tends to encapsulate so much more than just a single moment per year. Especially with stuff like Motherly Scootaloo or Aria’s Archives encapsulating so much history in a single picture. But under the Read More are my choices at the end of the decade:

     1.) My Old Drawn Blog # 53

Man, the years before MLP existed were really weird for me. I knew I liked drawing and telling stories, but I had no consistent direction on what I wanted to do with my art. I was still jumping between different comics and ideas, and in 2010 I was going through some of the worst depression I’d ever felt in my entire life. I hadn’t even had the experience of being kicked out of the first place I tried to move out of home to yet. It was wild.

As for the ‘joke’ that seems ‘so obvious’ in this post, I had a running gag back then of the face the Flower makes, known as the ‘screaming window’ face. I drew it whenever I needed to draw something screaming in pain or fear for maximum comedic effect. Maybe I’ll bring it back some day lol

     2.) Silent Ponyville

I couldn’t NOT put Silent Ponyville on this list. I was gonna have both 1 and 2 as different spots, but I wrote them both in the same year. That seems insane to me now?? Like WOW, I just WROTE those fics and then they became fandom-wide phenomenons. To the point where even in 2019 I’m still getting people drawing fanart of it, or people telling me “Yeah, I got into Fanfiction because I read Silent Ponyville”.

I don’t know if I’ll ever make a creative piece as universally known in a fandom as Silent Ponyville again, but I sure would love to make an original piece of art that is as beloved as Silent Ponyville one day, if not more so. It’s a testament to the fact that if I put my mind to it, I can create a really amazing horror experience, and I know I do plan to do so again some day.

     3.) Pirate Dash x Dead Rainbow Dash

Who doesn’t love shipping wars that get large numbers of people involved? This is probably the second most involved in the ‘community’ I got, though it was certainly the better experience of the two. And it was all just for silly fun at the end of the day.

And funnily enough I never ACTUALLY shipped these two, I just thought the reactions from the creators seeing them be shipped was hilarious, so it just kind of grew from there. It was all fun and games at the end of the day, and made for a good memory, and a pretty dang ambitiously drawn pic for the time!

     4.) If Twilight Wasn’t a Princess

2013 was surprisingly sparse as far as ambitious projects or art pieces go. I was in full swing with Motherly Scootaloo, and nothing really ‘amazing’ happened in 2013 for the blog. Which was surprising. But Season 4 of MLP DID happen! And it started with the Princesses going missing, and authority over Equestria being transferred to Twilight as the next closest Princess around. And with Cadance ruling the Crystal Empire, I thought, who did that leave to rule if Twilight HADN’T been able to temporarily take the role?

And judging by the length of the comments section on DA, a lot of people found the idea hilarious as well lol. Blue Blood NEVER showed up again for the entire run of the show, and it’s a shame because there was a lot of hilarious joke potential they could’ve done with him. But ya know, the show is what it is is, and this joke still makes me laugh.

     5.) My Time

My first original music video, with a song I had commissioned and everything! While it wasn’t my first video involving music and MLP, it was the first time everything was mine in one way or another. I wish I could write music, but the ambitiously talented AllLevelsAtOnce and Queen Mickey the Sass Master made this project well worth the time and effort put into making it!

And of course, it encapsulates the kind of futures I wish the CMC had acquired, with Sweetie Belle finally achieving her foreshadowed talent of singing. Apple Bloom built the stage, and Scootaloo likely would’ve ended up the choreographer if not for her baby. Sadly we shall only ever have fanon for that.

     6.) Demonloo

Love or hate the wedding arc of Motherly Scootaloo, this will always be one of, if not my top, favorite panel from the entire arc. Scootaloo looks just so appropriately menacing, and the effects placed on her are glorious. And then of course, I love the little twist of “That’s not just an audience visual effect, she actually looked that way in the comic” rofl

Motherly Scootaloo was a trip that got weird with my inclusion of magic and magical beings from the show, so much so to the point that if I were to ever remake the whole thing one day, a LOT of that would be toned down. Probably to the point Chronus wouldn’t exist. But hey, things are the way they are, but I will forever love the art of this arc.

     7.) A Motherly Scootaloo Christmas

If there ever was a picture that basically summarized the entirety of Motherly Scootaloo, it was this picture. Pretty much ever major character of the stories over the years was in the picture (minus Starlight) and showing their relations to everyone pretty much. I remember this picture basically killing me when I was drawing it, but was really proud at the time of how it came out. Of course, I could see how to improve it now, but I’m not gonna lol

It’s still crazy to me how many years Motherly went on for, and how much time and effort was put into it. But I’m still glad I did all of it over those years. It taught me so much about art, and about myself, and in the end, taught me the skills I needed to make art a true career for myself. And I’ll always love it for that. And introducing me to the best friends I’ve ever had, of course.

     8.) Twilight-Midnight is PISSED

Look. I recognize the Aero crossover had some convoluted issues with it, but god DAMN if I didn’t enjoy drawing that fight scene! I GENUINELY loved every panel of it! I can only hope that in the future the fight scenes I draw will be just as fun to draw as these were. And as visually impressive!

That’s ultimately why this won my pic over say, the time-glitch arc with her Mom. The explosions, the action lines, the visual foreshortening, I’ve never seen such visual improvements in a single update from me quite like I have these entire scenes. When I push myself to be amazing, I can pull off some fantastic art, and I need to do it more!

     9.) A StarTrix Christmas

2018 had a LOT of really good choices. Like. Too many choices. So many art pieces I was super proud of, so many pieces that showed growth as an artist, was a personal favorite, that people loved... So in the end, I went with the piece from the end of the year that is still a piece I hold up as truly a cultivation of how much effort I can put in to a picture.

Also it’s Christmas related. I LOVE Christmas. Never enough Christmas.

And as much as I hate FriendLight Glimmer, I still ADORE StarTrix content. It’s the good food for me, one of the rare things that the later era of G4 got right for me. And since I can make them be however I want in fanon, making them a GOOD loving couple was top priority for me, and I just adore them together. I truly do. And this picture is beautiful because of the love I put into it.

     10.) Fate of the Lost Princess

I couldn’t NOT put Fate of the Lost Princess on this list. It’s too important to me, means too much to me, and shows my growth as an artist the most. And of the pages of Fate of the Lost Princess I have done so far, the piece of Tina and Noah on a bus stands out the most for me because, I ACTUALLY managed to make it look and feel like they were on a bus! I was so worried about this page and I spent so long working on making it look right, and in the end, I succeeded in a way I never thought I could!

It feels good to end the decade on my original webcomic, showing just how much I’ve grown as an artist. Going from a successful fanartist, to a successful original artist, that still does fanart on the side, but I’ve grown into my own person now.

I’ve lost track of how many times I tried to start an original comic, only to stop working on it and let it fade into obscurity. Fate of the Lost Princess is the most effort and work I’ve put into an original comic before, and I’m so proud of myself for not only getting as far as I have, but proud of how much effort I plan to put into it in the future, and how much effort I’ll put into the comics beyond Fate of the Lost Princess.

It represents everything that is me from the last 10 years, and I hope it’ll be the fantastic start of the 2010s I want it to be. And I couldn’t have picked something to be more proud of to wrap this decade up with.

[littlemisssquiggles]

LittleMissSquiggles’ Summary of Art 2019 

Another year of art drawn to a close. This is not your typical art summary from yours trule.  It's more of an art collage of some kind, if you can even call it that XD A definite art summary would imply that I actually did art for every month of this year and that is not what happened at all, fam. 

As a matter of fact, it’s a miracle I even have anything to show since admittedly, 2019 was not a very creative year for me. I mean, I did create things but not as much as I would’ve liked. 

Instead I spent most of the year focused on my studies at Animschool while juggling any small work-related projects I managed to score. And even when I did have some free time to work on my own stuff, I still didn’t have the drive to do all that I wanted to do which was a bummer.

Nevertheless, I’m still proud of what I was able to accomplish for this year no matter how small. Something is better than nothing, am I right? 

Some squiggly good accomplishments I achieved for 2019:

I worked as a storyboard artist for two potential animated web series with the prospect of it being a recurring gig (we’ll see what happens in the new year with that).

I got the opportunity to work as a background colourist and tackled one of my biggest creative banes---background and environment design. I learnt quite a lot from this experience and it certainly inspired me to develop and improve on that aspect of my art. Still have ways to go with it but the drive to go for it is definitely there now and I have this small gig to thank for that inspiration.

Thanks to Animschool, I learnt how to use Zbrush and use it in the creation of characters and environments.

I created my first full 3D character model this year based off art from an artist whose work I’ve admired since my Deviantart days---Meago. I even showed the model to Meago and not only did she like my model, but she also gave me the okay to model any of her other characters from her Dollicious series which made me feel proud.

Apart learning Zbrush, I also learnt how take sculpted characters and props designed in Zbrush and retopologize them into production quality models for rigging and animation. I even learnt a bit of UVing---though I need to work on my UV Mapping skills more for the New Year.

My work was featured three times on the Animschool Instagram page where the school only shares the best work so that was fun little surprise each time it happened XD

 I  also successfully scored a feature in Animschool's Model/Rig Student Showreel 2018-2019.

I got to visit Tobago again for the first time since 2012 and I got to travel by plane for the first time ever. Turns out plane rides aren’t as nerve-wracking as I thought they’d be (even if it was a small 30 minute flight). 

I got the chance to participate in the first-ever RWBY Rosegarden Charity Fanzine hosted by @darleenas-art​ with the zine proceedings donated to the Child Mind Institute.  

I discovered my newfound passion for hand painted 3D models and successfully created my first hand-painted model despite being a complete noob to the craft.

So yeah, overall 2019 didn’t go too bad for the squiggle meister. Hard to believe that we're at the end of another year and with 2020 around the corner, it's hard to believe that we are at the end of a freaking decade too. 10 Years of Squiggling! 

This is why I make it a habit to post all of my past art summaries. It’s a great way to compare how my artistic growth over the years and looking back at how my art looked way back in 2010 and seeing where it is now, it’s honestly insane! If you saw some of my old digital art back then, you wouldn’t believe it was drawn by the same person. 

While I didn't get to do all that I wanted to do for this year, it doesn't change the fact that I did learn a lot. This year also helped me to realize a bit more of what I want to do with my craft and where I would love to take my art. 

I have some ideas for projects I'd love to do for 2020 going forward. Not sure if I'll get to accomplish any of them. But like with any creative year, I'm excited to go into it and see what I am able to achieve. 

Wish me luck for the New Year folks and the same goes to all the amazing peeps, old and new, who have supported me throughout the years including this one. Words and a mere thanks are never enough to express my eternal gratitude to all of you for your continuous support of my content.

That being said, I pray that 2019 turned out to be a good year for you guys as well and wishing you just as much luck in your respective endeavours for the 2020 too!

On a final note, I'd like to close off this summary with my tradition of sharing my personal best/favourite piece of this year. 

The inspiration for this piece actually took me by surprise because it wasn't exactly planned. I think you guys already know which piece this is. Can’t say much else other than it turned out to be a quite the beautiful bouquet! 

My Bouquet of Roses character design set remains to be my personal favourite piece of this year because it’s a unexpected project that made me gain more confidence in my style of drawing/designing characters. Before I admittedly didn’t have a lot of appreciation for the way I drew characters. I always did the thing where I compared myself too much to other artists whose worked I loved and felt my way was inferior.

But from doing this one project--- having to draw so many characters in my style and seeing how it all turned out and how much folks turned out to like...was fun. I hope I get to continue this project for next year since...I’m not exactly done with it yet and I’d honestly like to do more with it. Hopefully. 

Still can't believe this all started with a small headcanon post which sparked the creation of a character that spawned more characters, an AU, one illustration project followed by several more projects and AUs---a hella lot more like hot damn!

But above all else, this one idea also sparked a small circle of friends whose interactions and conversations have definitely made this squiggle meister's year a lot brighter. 

I may not be the most vocal person in the world but I still wanted to say thanks for the laughs and happy fun storytimes to @lookyeekiti​, @che1sea-xiao-long​, @miki-13​, @nykamito-x​, @cloudburst-paint-water​ @beaver-sen​, @keyenuta​ and @ezroar​! 

Hears to the New Year folks!  See you in 2020!

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♦ PREVIOUS ART SUMMARIES ♦

2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 

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~ LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[wilstudies]

Get a grade 9 in a language GCSE!

Please note:

1. These tips are almost entirely applicable to any AQA language at GCSE. 2. Modern Foreign Languages at GCSE Level is anywhere from A2 to B1 (dependant on the tier and grade) on the CEFR scale, but, there is no official equivalent.

In November 2018, whilst in Year 10, my teacher saw that I was excelling in French, with my extensive knowledge of tenses and idioms. So, she proposed that I’d do the January mocks, alongside Year 11, despite not knowing more than half of the subject content. Then we’d see where I’d go from there.

I followed the AQA exam board, higher paper. Specification. You can find the Kerboodle textbook I used, here.  

Here’s what I did:

Throughout the year, I was also studying the Year 10 content (Theme 1 - Identity and culture) in class.

In my own time, each month I’d cover one or two units, completing the more challenging activities on each page of the textbook. Luckily, each unit was only 4 double-page spreads long.

In January I completed my mocks. This was the first time I had ever sat in an exam hall, so it was really daunting to be doing it with a bunch of kids who were older than me, even though I knew I had enough knowledge. Overall, I got a secure grade 8, in my mocks, despite not knowing half of the course content.

I also did “pre-exam mocks”, two weeks before each exam. These consisted of specimen papers which are notoriously harder, so my results looked almost exactly the same as past papers, which was upsetting as I couldn’t see that I’d actually improved. But practice is practice!

MY ACTUAL GCSE RESULT: 

With a lot of work. I managed to achieve a grade 9 (the top mark, higher than an A*), which was insane. I’m so, so proud of myself, and grateful for all of the teachers that supported me!!!

^Edit from 25/08/2019.

LISTENING

In my opinion, listening is based purely on practice and knowing the exam technique that works for you.

To practice: 

frenchpod101 intermediate listening comprehension

Going through every specimen track and listening activity I could find - pausing it after each sentence, saying it once in French, then translating it into English. I’d do this in the shower, on the way to school, wherever.

Know your vocab!

My exam technique:

In the 5 minutes reading time: underline keywords and themes in the questions. This time goes very quickly, but I’d also try to jot down a few synonyms in the French section too.

Multiple choice questions: the process of elimination; key vocab; negative and positive tonality and opinion words - watch out for negative structures!

Completing the sentences: note down words said in French or translate each sentence into English in your head, then remember it when it comes to writing it down.

French section: fill each sentence with key French words that you hear. Don’t worry about accents, unless it helps you determine the word.

Remember each track plays twice.

READING

The January Mock: I didn’t know much of the course content, so I struggled with the translation. I also circled and placed a question mark near any words I didn’t know, as it was a mock and my teacher would be able to note down any translations for me. I think what boosted my grade, to a 9 for this paper, was knowledge of grammar.

T/F/NM questions are usually a gamble. Just look for explicit information and know your negative formations.

Texts change their minds often: look out for counter-arguments and opposing exclamations

Use the method of elimination for multiple choice: rule out if there’s no mention. Be wary that a text can mention an option, but say it wasn’t that.

Texts often refer to things mentioned prior.

If you know a certain type of texts are your kryptonite (it was the classical stories with dialogue, for me), then download as many of that genre as you can. Understand the way speech and dialogue works, and the structure, before you tackle the vocab.

Many say skim read and don’t read the whole thing, but I found it easier to translate big chunks in my head as I went along and lightly annotate each text, which just comes with practice.

WRITING

Top tip: don’t go any more than 10% over word limits!!!!!!! Teachers say they have to mark all of it - no they don’t. If you do double the word limit, your last few bullet points could come after the cut-off point, cutting off access to half of the marks!!! 

90 WORD - 99 words maximum! About 20-25 words per bullet point.

150 WORD - 165 words maximum! About 75 words per bullet point.

Which brings me to mention, that you must cover every bullet point: those are your content marks, which cover about half the marks of each question.

90 WORD Question (16 marks)

Content - 10 marks: Making sure your writing covers each bullet point enough.

Quality of Language - 6 marks: Using interesting vocabulary, such as “malheureusement”.

Stick to about one page.

If you’re giving an opinion, great, just stop there. If you explain it too much, you risk going over your word limit.

150 WORD Question (32 marks)

Content - 15 marks: Every. Bullet. Point. Detailed.

Range of Language - 12 marks: get in those adjectives, idioms and grammatical structures!

Accuracy - 5 marks: correct basic tense conjugations (present, past, future simple/future proche)

In order to hit all of these I came up with a mnemonic checklist, and it scored me full marks in a specimen paper I did for my teacher! And I made it into a cute phone background, so I’d start to remember it, I still can now, hehe! You can find it here. If that doesn’t work, then download it here.

SPEAKING

Know your question words! (x)

For the roleplay and photocard, my teacher printed off me a load of practice cards in bulk and annotated two or three every day, using the planning techniques mentioned below.

Roleplay - 2 minutes; can be any theme. 

When planning, try to avoid writing out answers, but just keywords and gaps for you to fill in with pronouns or articles etc.

Keep it brief, one sentence per bullet point, but cover each part of each bullet point. 

Photo card - 3 minutes (aim to speak for at least 2). 

Plan with a small spider-diagram of nouns, opinions, anecdotes etc. for each known question. 

Use one or two prepped anecdotes for the prepared questions - e.g. where you went last year, who with, what you did. 

For the unknown questions, keep it short and sweet and fill up any time with opinions and reasoning.

General conversation - 5-7 minutes. 

Lie and make up stories! Be creative and use the words and structures you know.

I was a little extra and I prepared every theme as flashcards. You can’t get away with only revising your chosen theme! 

I made flashcards that could cover several types of questions: I had bullet points of topics and keywords on one side and a sample paragraph on the other. 

Pretty sure I made about 80 flashcards oops.

I also went through the mark scheme and see which areas I could secure marks in and which areas I needed to improve.

VOCAB

Learning vocab is SO important!

I started by making spreadsheets of jumbled word lists from the specification and doing a colour-coded match up. 

You can access a pdf of all of the vocab grids here. There might be the odd word missing due to copy-pasting errors, but if so, don’t stress, just look it up in a dictionary and note it down - sorry in advance!!!

Then with the vocab that I had to look up in a dictionary, I added to a Quizlet and wrestled it into my noggin. 

You can find the Quizlet here.

Remember that:

sauf - except

puisque - since

presque - almost

GRAMMAR

To me, learning tenses was like learning formulae for maths. So find a way to learn rules like that, if it’s easier for you.

e.g. Conditional Tense = subject + (future/conditional stem + imperfect ending)*

*note that future stems are the same as conditional stems.

Know your DRMRSPVANDERTRAMP verbs, and their past participles. These verbs go with ÊTRE and always agree with the subject.

Know your auxiliary and irregular verbs.

MUST KNOW: avoir, être, aller, faire, vouloir

HELPFUL: devoir, pouvoir, vivre, boire, voir, dire, savoir

OTHERS: mettre, prendre, venir, écrire, lire, recevoir

I learnt these by making flashcards, and then brain dumping them on paper over and over again until they stuck - my teacher thought I was insane, madly scribbling away.

Memorise some key structures that can be used in writing and speaking. 

If you want 7+ structures, find them here.

MISC TIPS

Always write notes about improvements and errors in practice papers and mocks.

Find a native french internet friend.

In my opinion, music, movies and TV shows aren’t great for revision. However, if you begin to understand them, they are a great confidence boost.

I highly recommend the Skam France series, which you can find with and without les sous-titres (subtitles) here.

And here’s my french music playlist on Spotify.

MORE ASSISTANCE

I’m happy to offer my assistance to anybody who needs it, pop me a dm or an ask if you think others will find it useful too. 

Here’s some ways I could help:

Finding some resources about a certain topic (videos, worksheets, mindmaps) - I have them all backed up hehe

Sending you some of my past answers

Sending you pdf of my general conversation/irregular verb table flashcards

Marking practice answers

Talking to you in french

Etc. etc.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to help any others that might find this useful. If any of the links are faulty, please pop me a dm, and I’ll get them sorted asap!! 🥐

-Wil x

[ysalamiri-queen]

2019 Fic in Review

Inspired by @myevilmouse I’m going to sum up all the writing I’ve been up to the past year. I’m really proud of what I’ve accomplished, and thanks to you all for the encouragement to put my ideas out into the world! This has been a year of trying new things, and really growing as an author I feel… And wow according to AO3 I’ve written about 400k words in the past 12 months, damn. So let’s get to the list, going from the beginning of the year to the end, and as always please heed the tags on these before reading.

Note: As I go back, I’m realizing a lot of the links were messed up or are just straight missing. I am on the Mobile App so things can get messy. Please visit my works page on AO3 HERE to see all of these on my page under JessKo and my other pseuds.

1 Late Night at the Slab

Idea: Filling a prompt for the Thryce server in which some, uh, unique Chiss anatomy was assigned.

Result: A 3-way with Thrawn, Arihnda, and Eli and my first foray into the more Xeno side of things in a Modern AU setting. Yeehaw!

2 The Trouble With Free-Roaming Ysalamiri

Idea: Based on some adorable ysalamiri cuddles art by @strength-through-order I wanted to write some Thranto fluff.

Result: Ysalamiri-filled Thranto fluff X’D

3 Inquisitor’s Debt

Idea: What if the Grand Inquisitor changed sides at the end of Rebels season 1?

Result: Some fun throwbacks with Obi-Wan and Caleb Dume leading up to Quizzy defecting with Ezra.

4 Ancient Stems

Idea: Eli Week drabbles based on the Vanto Week prompts.

Result: A silly buzz droid narrative with Thrawn and some cute slice of life Eli backstory/Ascendancy days bits.

5 Charnsuka

Idea: Kinky stuff with Lord Garmadon when he’s an Anacondrai.

Result: Kinky stuff with Lord Garmadon when he’s an Anacondrai. Sorry Zane!

6 Caged Like Prized Birds

Idea: Again inspired by the awesome Chiss anatomy and Thrux drawings by @strength-through-order , I wanted to craft a narrative around Armitage, as a young man, stumbling upon a clone of Thrawn.

Result: Man, this might just be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, had so much fun plotting it out and the smut is mmm! Tentacles everywhere~ I’ve gone back to re-read this a lot, I’ll admit it. I hope you all enjoyed it too.

7 Quiet On Set

Idea: Must. Write. Talos.

Result: A cute little platonic x-reader with everyone’s favorite Skrull. This was my first MCU fic too.

8 Diagnostic

Idea: Wanted to apologize to Zane for the damages done in Charnsuka with some Glacier shipping fluff.

Result: A silly glacier thing leading to a bit of foolery. I’m happy with it!

9 Heron Soaring

Idea: A continuation of the plot line from Heron Rising with Kanan and Thrawn.

Result: Too many feels… but some great sex to soften the blow, Kanera too!

10 Patron

Idea: Responding to a tumblr prompt from @wukeskywalker regarding Thrawn commissioning LOADS of artworks of Eli.

Result: More Thranto fluff! I see a trend here…

11 Black Heron

Idea: Kanan x Pryce for @myevilmouse , I think this was our first ‘collaboration’ on something!

Result: Juahir hires a special someone to show Arihnda a good time!

12 Red Heron

Idea: @star-wars-rebels-4 is always an amazing wealth of ideas for Grand Inquisitor, and encouraged a work featuring him and Kanan.

Result: Delicious back alley smut when an undercover Jedi is caught!

13 Warm Homecoming

Idea: Give my and a friend's OCs some cute fluff.

Result: OC fluff and a vacation to Hoth!

14 sowing the seeds

Idea: Add something cute to the spank war project.

Result: Another contender for my ‘favorite thing I’ve ever written’ rank. Two chapters of pining, cooking lessons, and sweet slick smut.

15 Red Frost

Idea: After watching “The Evil of Frankenstein” with @sneakybunyip ‘s amazing movie night group, I wanted to do something fun with Victor and Hans.

Result: A fun little adventure fic with some huddling for warmth to boot. Victor and Hans are the hammer-horror-verse Thranto send tweet.

16 a setting sun to hide the ruins

Idea: What if I tortured Kanan to the point he turned evil and joined the Inquisitors (and went a little insane in the process)

Result: Instead of torture, let’s just use some serum that drives him mad. Perfect. Smut ahoy, pretty much a dead dove type fic.

17 Pinktown

Idea: When browsing abandoned towns in Florida, I came across Flamingo… what if Thrawn had been exiled here instead.

Result: An alternate history of Thrawn’s exile and eventual discovery by the Empire. Huge thanks for @badgerandk on this one for the perfect epilogue and beta.

18 the sun rises to only illuminate the stranger i have become

Idea: Setting sun… part 2! But it’s actually what happens before sun?

Result: How Kanan ended up where he is for ‘a setting sun’... lots of imp smut and again, it's sort of a dead dove style fic.

19 Frozen Over

Idea: Ar’alani x Eli Vanto

Result: Somehow me and my writing partner ended up at sensory deprivation focus on this one.

20 Shape of Honor

Idea: Well, this one started in 2018 but ‘finished’ in 2019. Still working on the epilogue. Lots of tweaks… If you are not familiar, this is my AU in which it explores how the Thrawn novel and Rebels show would be altered if Palpatine distrusted Thrawn from their first meeting and accused him of being a Chiss spy. Vaguely inspired by the film The Shape of Water.

Result: Well it's nearly a novel now, isn’t it. This was a great adventure in learning how to create compelling story arcs. I’m extremely satisfied with how it is shaping (lol) up.

21 Datura Stamonium

Idea: Thrawnbine ovi smut.

Result: Oops it has plot now, a whole backstory with Eli and such and so fourth. Will need further stories told…

22 Desert Entropy

Idea: Luke/Wedge modern AU shenanigans.

Result: Also pulled Nath/Wyl and the Rogue Squad/Alphabet Squad peeps into this. Set in Vegas, Luke and Wedge meet and have a cute little romance, but some legal troubles set them back (Palpatine, as always, is That Bitch™) Very happy ending!

23 The Great Eli and Thrawn Prank War

Idea: See Chapter 1: Mullet Thrawn

Result: This thing really grew up, and thanks to all the contributors for allowing me to join in! My contributions were: 7-Bombs Away! In which a bit of drama brews and Thrawn makes a paint bomb that forces him and Eli back into being roomates. 11-Tooka Troube 2: Electric Boogaloo in which Eli finds his quarters slowly filling up with Tooka plush toys, and then something huge goes off in supply. 17-The Bitch is Back In which who knew Thrawn could sing?!

24 Clipped Wings to Keep Us from Flying

Idea: Continuing the story line from Caged Like Prized Birds

Result: Dragging Eli and the OG Thrawn into this, seeing that their stories were left untold in the first work. Also Armitage and the clone are up to all sorts of cool things. Still a WIP, on the list to keep working on this year!

25 I’ll do what I can.

Idea: Some Ronan/Krennic feels post Treason

Result: A Ronan character study that I really needed to get out of my system and finally a stable alliance between Krennic and Thrawn!

26 Purple Heron

Idea: @punk--kenobi and I concocted some fun Kanan/Zeb/Hera smut featuring Lasat heat cycles.

Result: Ah this came out so cool, full of emotion and wonderful imagery. Massive kudos to @punk--kenobi for beta-ing my portion and contributing some of the best smut one can find!

27 Ninjago Angst Week 2019

Idea: Do some 1-shots for Ninjago Angst Week

Result: ow right in the feels. Each character got a highlight in their own ‘dark retelling of a canon or canon adjacent event’ chapter.

28 Vertigo

Idea: Thing’s don’t go right planetside for Eli, Pik, and Waffle in Treason.

Result: Big oof. I hope Eli can one day forgive me… I even put strain on the end game Thranto! Bittersweet ending and lots of angst.

29 More Than Just a Treat

Idea: What is Obi Wan up to in the desert…

Result: Aunt Beau and baby Luke baked him cookies obviously!

30 Datura Metel

Idea: Continuing the Datura cycle…

Result: Just how Eli ended up where he did in the first installation.

31 Here & Now

Idea: Some Thranto Fluff! For @jewelliffer

Result: A camping trip for shore leave! And a marriage proposal for extra sugar.

32 Monster Under the Bed

Idea: Benevolent Boogeyman Chiss

Result: Modern AU Thranto spooky sillies. Bit of an intense climax but they talk it out!

33 Haunted by Sentiment

Idea: Nath is in denial of being the Squad Dad for @glassprowlers

Result: Nath’s very bad no good oh so terrible day! It's very silly and I really like how it ended up, the title is way more serious than the story itself XD

34 Pulse

Idea: Werewolf AU Lavashipping

Result: Oops Kai is a werewolf! Good thing Cole is here to help him figure out how to press on.

35 Stories from Area 51

Idea: remember the raid Area 51 meme? I do! Gotta clap them alien cheeks!

Result: Oh no it got PLOTTY! Pretty much all of my favorite characters and ships cherry-picked and plopped down into a Men In Black style facility in the middle of the desert. I really have a thing for the desert huh…

36 Good Day

Idea: The “truth” behind the “Good day, Lieutenant Vanto” from Thrawn in Treason.

Result: Oh stars the FEELS! Thrawn is in deep water and he KNOWS IT! GAH!

37 Fur Ball

Idea: Chiss are mogwai/gremlins…

Result: Silly Thranto fluff. Thrass shows up too! Feeding them after midnight is actually a good idea here… Grow your own ideal man!

38 Came Back Haunted

Idea: A mission fic centered around the @peters-pumpkin-day prompts.

Result: Ice planet survival with Tarkin, Krennic, Galen, and Ronan.

39 Sewn Together

Idea: This drawing actually is what lead to the fic-

Result: A fairly unique reuniting of Thrawn and Eli after both return to the Ascendancy.

40 Spiked Heron

Idea: Oh no… Kanan gets himself in deep poodoo this time.

Result: Devaronians really like humans huh? The next chapter is half way written I swear it is coming soon!

41 A Colder Embrace

Idea: Thrawn/Purrgil/Ezra and Luke/Wampa for SW Rare Pairs.

Result: It's very cold on Hoth… and even colder in space.

42 Surround

Idea: Luke/Wedge for SW Rare Pairs

Result: Luke has to confront Wedge post ESB regarding what is, essentially, his deserting the Rebels.

43 What Happens Planetside…

Idea: Eli/Pik/Waffle for SW Rare Pairs

Result: heheh a scrumptious Eli sandwich! And surprise tentacles because, well, why not?

44 Hesperidium

Idea: Fluffy Kylux for the Kylux Secret Santa event

Result: Ah its so sweet you might get a cavity

45 Reanimator

Idea: Lovecraftian eldritch horror Thranto

Result: This is the sort of project that it takes 2 months to fine tune each chapter, so bear with me, but I can promise a wonderful, creepy ride is ahead!

46 Floral

Idea: Luke/Faro for SW Rare Pairs. Enjoy the Jedi lovin’, @myevilmouse

Result: Sex pollen and accidentally defecting from the Empire. Whoops!

47 The Harch

Idea: Bouncing off of THIS art by @mamidlo , we worked together to create this plot. Very much inspired by the Hammer Horror films, such as Dracula and Frankenstein.

Result: A fun and spooky romp of Kallus and Zeb getting trapped in a creepy castle featuring mind controlled drones and a species-obsessed Harch. This was my first time posting the entire story at once, too!

Wow, I can not believe how much has been written this year. Thank you all again for reading and kudos-ing and your amazing comments. I’d not be here without the support and love <3 Cheers to 2020 and much more fic ahead!

[werevulvi]

This is not a coming out post or a declaration of new labels in any way, shape or form what so ever. This is merely me venting new thoughts and trying to detangle my feelings. I'm just experimenting around, alright.

I took a break from venting to my partner about my endless gender anxieties and instead turned to an online friend for advice on my situation, because he was open to hear about it, and asked me about my wish to go back on testosterone. This barely adult trans guy who's 10 years younger than myself, only been on testosterone for about a year and fairly recently had top surgery, has become a little bit of a mentor for me... ironically. As just a couple of years ago, I was a bit of a mentor for him as an inspirational "trans elder."

Is it right that I unload my deep, heavy inner struggles on him for advice about transition/detransition stuff? Debatable, but I'm pretty sure I have good influences on this kid, as he has matured and wised up vastly for the past couple of years that we've been friends. And yes, he's totally fine with my "terfy" gender critical, radfem opinions, despite being a transmed/truscum himself. We usually get along just fine, despite our different views. He looks up to me.

So, for whatever it's worth, I really value my friendship with him and I have a lot of respect for him.

So, anyhow. I had a chat with him yesterday, in which he kindly tried to substitute for my absolutely useless therapists. Much appreciated. And it helped me to get a new, fresh perspective on it that sparked a lot of new ideas and feelings within me. Even as a gender critical person, I think it's important to not narrow my mind down to only listening to that one world view. If I'd do that, I'd be no better than the hive-minded TRA's, okay.

What's so fresh about his world view is that he doesn't believe in nonbinary, because he understands that the only sexes that exist are male and female, and that intersex is not a third sex, and otherwise has the quite typical transmedicalist view of gender identity being connected to dysphoria and that that's something trans people are born with, alright. Furthermore, he accepts that he's bio female and always gonna be that way, but just feels better living as a man and passing as male.

So he would never shove the nonbinary label down my throat, like almost everyone else has (including my quack of a gender therapist who literally spews fake-science), and he understand that I really have dysphoria when I describe it to him, despite having mostly thought of me as "a regular cis woman deep down." He understands that my traumas fucked with my perception of gender, takes my autism and BPD into account (he's also autistic and his sister has BPD); but is also quite open to the idea of atypical dysphoria in binary trans people, and that trans men don't have to be masculine, etc. He's also totally fine with my sex-based views on sexual orientation, but regards his own sexual orientation as gender-based. So his perspective differs slightly from my own perspective, but we do have a lot of views on trans stuff in common, and are both respectful of each other's differing views.

That should be the necessary background info about him, I believe. So like... he's not like the harmful TRA's on twitter, even though he has shitty views on bisexuals (yes, that was him in my previous, angry post about bisexuals, lol. We got over that.)

What he suggested to me was basically (my rough translation of a snippet from what he said, what stood out to me the most): "Why not be openly FtM? Accept your female traits (then I mean body and terms like lesbian and that too) but put yourself in a male identity? It sounds kinda like that is what fits the best in your situation when the only thing you have dysphoria over is just what's socially male traits och not the directly bodily." It hit me hard because I had never seen it that way before. It opened up a new posibility, and that's really all I'm saying here. It's a posibility, and I want to explore it. Just telling me that I can be FtM if I just feel like it was not what I needed to hear. I discarded that from others in the past, claiming such an assertion to be silly and illogical. I miss my breasts, I regret my top surgery, I love my female body and I'm proudly a lesbian - I cannot possibly be a trans man because I don't have enough dysphoria for it! -I kept thinking.

But then... when I was instead told that I could be FtM based on that I actually want to and like passing as male, and that I can actually totally be a hyper-feminine, lesbian trans guy who is fine with his female body underneath the clothed surface... THAT lit a light in me. So, why I had been repeatedly discarding the option to be a feminine trans man in the past, wasn't because I genuinely thought it was a dumb idea, but because I didn't believe it could even be an actual option, based on my dysphoria being so... female friendly. Now... I feel like it could be an actual option.

I mean I have healed... A LOT. I've healed my connection to being female a lot. I've even accepted and embraced that I'm a lesbian. I made most of my dysphoria go away. Those are HUGE things that should absolutely not be flushed down the drain. But fact is I'm still dysphoric and without really having seen it that way before, I have been presenting as a feminine/gnc male quite a lot throughout my detransing, and that's what I'm the most comfortable with. I've stated it many times: That I love looking like a gnc man. Being a "male-passing bearded woman" oooh sounds like a trans guy to me?! Well, could be. I've felt consistently uncomfortable trying to pass as female, and my dysphoria has gotten worse the longer I've been off testosterone. Quitting voice training and saving out my beard again felt like two huge reliefs; to embrace my beloved T traits and accept that I cannot possibly hate them.

They are mine, they feel intrinsic and crucial to my body and I want them to stay. Now I'm hassling with my gender clinic to get back on testosterone again. I am going to. If at all possible.

I feel a sense of relief, but also defeat, at the thought of going back to my old label as a trans man. However, it wouldn't be the same as it was back then. I'm a proud lesbian now, I have enough pussy power to empower a whole nation of insecure women, I'm fine with being considered a woman based strictly on my biology, I've healed my connection to my female sex. I feel like a completely different person compared to the miserable, self-hating trans man I was prior to mid 2018, and I would never go back to being that sorta trans man again... but I'm contemplating the posibility of being a lesbian, openly female, gender critical trans man. Because as my friend said: why not? Let's address gender identity quickly: Would I then identify as a man? No, not really. If so, I'd wear the label trans man or FtM in the sense of being a dysphoric female who's happily transitioned, (hopefully) back on testosterone, happily male-passing and living as sort of a man socially. Then I mean living as a man in the sense of deliberately passing as male, going by male terms/pronouns (except from labeling myself lesbian and being fine with using female terms on occasion, depending on the context) but not actually identifying as any sorta gender in particular. Then why calling myself a man at all? Well... because I look like one and I love looking like one. People cannot see or hear in my voice that I'm actually female, and they don't need to know that, except from when they actually do need to know that. I want to be open about my sex being female but I feel like maaaaybe I'm not actually comfortable with calling myself a woman. At least not like 500 times a day. Because personal comfort is more important than politics. Repeat that after me.

This does however, unfortunately but of course, make me re-think my wish got get breast implants. Do I regret my top surgery? Yes. Do I miss having boobs? Yes. But it's hard as hell to present male with obvious boobs that I'd be unable to bind. Both because the implants would likely damage my internal tissues badly if I kept them pressed down like that, and because I've already whacked my ribs from previous binding pre-op. It would be way too dangerous for both those reasons. I can't help that the thought of being a trans man with silicone boobs, after top surgery, sounds insane to me... but I'm trying to look beyond that and focus on what I want for myself and what matters to me personally. If I actuallly, truly, madly, deeply, want new boobs for myself and my private personal life because I think that would improve my connection to my chest... then I should do that regardless of how insane it may seem... because of the label I'm slapping onto my ass.

The questions spinning in my head, about my chest, are:

Can I live with it?

Can I accept that I made a mistake to have top surgery, but move on with my life with how things became?

Would it be easier to become fine with it if I reclaim my former male identity, or just another escape?

Was my wish to get new breasts only connected to my identity as a woman?

Would I be able to let go of my grief and regret, and find the silver lining of having a flat chest, as a self-loving and self-caring, openly FtM person, while presenting as male?

Could I allow myself to enjoy going out bare-chested in public and enjoy the summer breeze, or pool water, directly caressing my skin, if I'd embrace that I actually enjoy looking like and living as a man who is actually female?

If I willingly and wantingly present as male, not just skipping trying to pass as female out of convenience, but embracing my male-passability as a positive thing that I actually enjoy; would that also make me comfortable, or at least okay with, not having breasts?

I need to think through all of those questions. I'll soon have my consultation for breast reconstruction. Fuck. I need another summer to explore and experiment with being flat-chested and how I really, really feel about it. My god, why is this so hard?! (breathe... relax... it’ll be alright.) Yes, I have healed my connection to my femaleness, but was that ever equal to me being happy with living as a woman? Perhaps I went too far with it to actually detransition, when there was an in-between option all along, that I just glossed over and discarded without even entertaining the thought. Perhaps the middle ground that I need to be, is not nonbinary... but a lesbian, openly female trans man? I need to experiment and explore this new-old option which I feel just opened up before me. I'm freeing my aching chest from the heavy breast forms and tight bras, even trying out packing my underwear again (I kept my small "Pierre" packer (uncut version) which is perfect for when wearing skirts, as it barely shows any bulge at all... because boner+skirt is just a really bad look alright), while still wearing my usual feminine style. I'm vaguely considering going swimming in just bottoms again (whether panties or shorts). I'm playing with the rare, male name Saphir in my mind as an alternative to my similar-sounding birth name Sara (which I currently go by, officially), and asking myself gently how I would feel about going by he/him pronouns and male terms again; just to play around and feel things out.

So far... it feels pretty fucking good. But it's only been one day and that's not a lot to go on. I need to give this a hell of a lot more time. I am not done yet. I'm merely starting, again. I only wanted to vent these thoughts and feelings while they're still fresh in my mind. So please excuse the mess, I'm still under construction and it's unfortunately taking a little longer than expected. Thank you for your waning patience.