#sarah text archive

[sarah-fandom-account]

I love totsukuni no shoujo because at first blush it’s a cutesy heartwarming Monster Father story and the plot meanders, following the cute little girl and her extremely careful and concerned parent, and then the narrative lens zooms out from time to time and gradually it becomes one big metaphor for living under an oppressive religion and culture, and the psychological effects it has on an individual level; the extreme self loathing, loneliness and isolation it causes, then it goes completely off the rails in this direction at the very end, and utterly eviscerates you. And then there’s another entire volume of adoptive parent and child fluff after that, as though to soothe the feelings of the reader after getting obliterated

[sarah-hell-pit]

well, I am back to reading the Exestential Crisis manga. Perhaps I should read it some other time that isn’t my birthday, but it’s a tradition at this point. After all, I am an artist. And not the professional kind. Which is what I went to school for.

Blue period is a very good manga. There’s a lot of research that went into it, but you can also tell how much of the author’s own feelings go into the manga. I will probably write a review on it at some point. This one is a bit harder for me to process than some others, because of the story’s subject matter. I will say that the thing I miss most about reading it is the way it describes the process of making art, and the revelations of the main character regarding the nature of art.

I have a feeling that Blue Period may play a large role in my life. I’m not sure yet. I know that it will change me, somehow. Every story changes me a little. Eventually, I think, the more one reads, even manga, the better one becomes able to understand the nature of the world around them.

What do you really want? It’s a question that many people are asked, and very few know the answer to. For the main character of Blue Period, what he wants is to satisfy his curiosity— he wants to know- what is art, really? His advantage is that it’s his sole motivator, and he has no pride in his work, only a ceaseless drive to unravel that answer.

Maybe that was my mistake, going into art school with a very set, predefined notion of what “art” meant and was, one very different from everyone around me.

There’s no one or easy answer to the question of what art is. What people consider to be art varies widely from person to person, from country to country. And yet there remains a few defining parameters consistent across cultures. Art is a human creative endeavor, one that seeks to convey an idea or meaning; not something purely decorative (which falls into the realm of design, or illustration.) Art is fundamentally a means of communication. I think this is where I first became confused in art school. For me, the meaning behind art had always been secondary to its appearance. Art was a practice in intense reproduction from my mind’s eye; a practice of generating imagery from nothing in particular, something that had many details and could provoke thought, a wide array of thought that fell mostly into the realm of fantastical. Art was about generating ideas. Art was about all of the leaping off points, not necessarily about a unified and set message.

Art has no “practical” purpose. Instead, it serves an ideological one, telling you what the author believes about the world, maybe how it is, maybe how it should be, or how it has been. But it always has a central theme that, if not immediately discernible, can be recognized through the text in the artist’s description or statement. Art is about reflecting society, and reflecting ourselves.

Maybe it’s no secret why I have had such a love hate relationship with art. Unlike Yaguchi, I was not curious about what art could be. I thought I knew. And as my fundamental drawing professor taught me, when you think that you know how something looks, you will always draw it inaccurately.

And yet, art does interest me. When I can pick the questions that it asks, on my own terms. It’s difficult to justify art to oneself. It shouldn’t be. Creating art is a fundamental tenant of human self expression. Art is who we are.

I’m rambling and it’s late. I guess my point is, you can’t understand something unless you are willing to be curious about it, and really open to receiving answers in the form of information that you really didn’t expect. You have to be openminded.

You have to be willing to see art in unexpected places; in places where it wasn’t intended, where there was no human controlling the setup. The things that you personally recognize as art, which serve no artistic purpose originally, define your perspective and define you as a person. This is what you, as an individual, can utilize to make art.

art belongs to everyone. But it can only belong to the people brave enough to reach out and grab it. It belongs to those who want it, who need it. So it belongs to those who don’t create it, too. But the only art that you can claim as your own is the art that comes from your unique perspective; something built off of self reflection and in direct communication with the world around you.

And art is not about creating something; it’s about trying to get at something else, and creating something in the process.

I guess I never understood that before.

The scene where Yatora draws himself naked, and then learns that he sees his body, and the human form in general as pathetic, made me realize that it’s really easy to not know what your perspective even is until you are in the midst of reaching towards art.

I found it hard to think of art as a language, but it very much is. Once I started thinking of art in the same way I already think of writing, I believe that my art began to improve.

I think a lot of this series is Yaguchi learning, bit by bit, that traditional art is a tricky union of skill, technique and intent, trying to combine the three in perfect balance— and often failing in one capacity or another. That’s what makes the series good; it’s realistic. Most of artwork is a failure in one way or another.

I could say so much more, I could probably sit here and type until tomorrow dawns about all of the things this anime surfaces within me. But I’ll leave it there for tonight.

Blue period is a very good series about asking oneself some very hard questions, without ever really having a guarantee of an answer— but continuing to ask regardless. And I, like so many others, admire that determination.

[chronicallysarah]

last night I dreamed a ghost tried to murder me in south dakota because I was trying to find out how a shutin 28 year old furry mysteriously died

[sarahreesbrennan]

Hi Sarah, I'm so excited to see your upcoming release. (Villainess deserve representation too!) I was rereading Love From Both Sides for the dozenth time - as one does - and I was wondering if you had any plans for a spin off with Adara and Natalie? Their story has so many uncharted possibilities, I'm dying to know more. And relatedly, we're gasping out here for more sapphic media that goes as hard as your work does 🥺

I'm sorry if this has been asked and answered before, I couldn't find anything in your archives. Thanks again for writing In Other Lands, a precious and rare delight. I hope you're having the bestest day with at least one friendly nuzzle from a puppy

Hey my love, Never be sorry for asking anything! This world is bettered by the questioners, and it’s a great compliment to me that you care.

As regards Adara and Natalie specifically, I couldn’t tell you. I’d love to write more in the In Other Lands world (about which more later) - but whether I could do a short story or a series of books would obviously change my answer. It’s not entirely up to me, but I definitely do have plans for Adara. She’s a foil for Elliot, and the kind of character I really like - one who I see treated shallowly in other media, when few people really are shallow. If there’s too much skimming the surface, I long to explore the depths. And with the depths come adventures. Thank you for your care!

I also thank you for being excited for Long Live Evil. Villains and villainesses do definitely deserve representation, and have long been beloved by me because they’re often complicated, witty because they see the world differently, and queer-coded. I was also thinking when writing it about the different ways audiences can come to a story, and using the same evidence how different people presume characters are (for example) straight or bisexual. And often the ending will be very uniformly heterosexual. But if you go into the story, and change its direction… Are the things you presumed true? Are the things characters presumed about themselves true? Would certain subtexts surface, and certain texts submerge? How do we influence art by engaging with it? Anyway, I am categorically not making any promises because that’s got me in trouble before. But it’s an ensemble story (I was inspired by the group dynamics and relationships, all given weight, of Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows) and these are some of my preoccupations when writing it. I hope you shall find much to enjoy.

In the meantime, if you seek sapphic media that goes hard, and Sappho knows we all do… The Jasmine Throne and the Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri - this series is a huge favourite of mine - and not just mine, it won the World Fantasy award. Its central f/f pairing features one party holding the other at knifepoint for fine reasons and they have a brilliant dynamic based on understandably conflicting ideologies and complicated family situations! I love it.

Thank you for a delight of a letter and your kind words. I write this being yelled at by a cat for skritches, which is pleasant as puppies. I wish you a beauteous day with animal companions of choice, with apologies I couldn’t answer more definitively!

[strawwritesfic]

Rajesh Koothrappali x Female!Reader: Swallow

Summary: There’s a chance you won’t end up with as many cats as Sarah expects after all.

Rating/Tags: T (drinking; drinking in excess; designated driver; texting; meet-cute; bars; set when Raj couldn’t talk to girls; set before Penny and Bernadette getting married to their canonical spouses; Penny & Bernadette; Penny & Bernadette & Raj; reader & original characters; mild language)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: Yeah, I used to watch this show with my parents. I stopped way before them, but I got requests for some of the characters, so...Anyway, please keep in mind any references to Raj being foreign and all were my attempts to reflect the show itself, not actually my own personal views. Same with the dismissive references to nerd culture.

Swallow

“Ready? On the count of three. One…two…three!”

With a chorus of clinking and several shudders, three shot glasses hit the hard tabletop. The sound had barely faded when one of the surrounding girls started giggling. Five stops into this barhopping experience and someone was sure to snap sooner or later. Sure enough, the next words spoken were, “Shut up!” 

The giggling stopped.

“Wow, guys,” you said, as you gathered up the empty cups. “Much more of this and I’ll be peeling you all off the floor.”

“Shut up,” Sarah snapped again, which only caused Cassie to break out in another fit of giggles.

You lifted a single eyebrow, and she quieted quickly enough. Then again, that might have had more to do with the death glare that Sarah shoot her. Angry Sarah, silly Cassie…you were starting to get a bad feeling about this entire venture.

“Seriously. I think you’ve had enough. All of you,” you added at Jess’s blank fidgeting right across from you. 

The entire adventure was for her benefit, but she looked the least enthusiastic of the bunch. Letting her drink herself into oblivion sounded kind on paper, sure. Forcing her to get up for work the following morning with a raging headache? Not so much. You took her silence for agreement; unfortunately, your attempt to take pity on poor Jess went absolutely nowhere.

Cassie shook her head frantically. “Whaaaaat? You mean we have to go home? But that’s not fair, [Name]! That’s just not fair!”

“Calm down, Cass.” Sarah patted the distraught woman clumsily on the back. “[Name] can’t make us go anywhere.”

“She can’t?”

“I can’t?” you asked.

Sarah downed another shot, then threw you a wide grin that you liked the look of not at all. “Just because you’re the designated driver–”

“Because I have to be.”

“Shut up. You’re the last person to have a breakup before Jess, so it’s your turn. That’s how it works.”

“And when’s it gonna be your turn?”

“When I break up with Dan. Which I won’t. So shut up.”

“This is a load of malarkey," you muttered

“Maybe we should ask Jess,” Cassie suggested, turning to the blonde still staring morosely at the table. “You ready to go home, Jess?”

“I thought Jake was my Dan,” was Jess's mumbled reply.

“Not enough booze!” Cassie cried with barely concealed delight. She reached for another tiny glass. “Sorreeee, [Name].”

“What do you mean, not enough booze? She's practically crying already,” you said, as Jess’s eyes filled with tears. ”

“She has to drink until she forgets Jake or until the bars close,” said Sarah.

“Are you kidding me? You three are already drunk off your asses!”

“Them’s the rules,” Sarah’s smirk swiftly transformed into her typical drunken scowl. “Until you get yourself paired off with some guy, you’re the driver on these things. Consider it an incentive to not wind up the crazy cat lady of the group.”

“I only have one cat,” you pointed out.

“Oh! Oh! Didn’t you say you were thinking about adopting another?” Cassie asked.

You shot her a death glare of your own this time, though its effect was not as great as Sarah’s.

“Oopsie.”

Sarah was too far gone to find any amusement in this revelation. She rolled her eyes and slid her empty cup toward your growing collection. “You don’t want to sit here watching us drink, fine. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get us another round?”

“Oooor you could work the room,” Cassie said as she handed her glass over to you as well. “There’s loooots of boys here, and I’m sure you could find at least one smart enough to tempt even yoooou, [Name]!”

“Oh, you’re sure are you?” Sarah said.

“I’m sure!”

“Yeah, well you were sure at the last bar, too. And the one before that. And the one before that.”

“So?”

“So your optimism is grating. Shut up.”

“I think you should shut up!”

“I don’t think so. Why don’t you…”

Sarah’s voice faded into the background as you moved away from your friends. By the time you got back, Cassie and Sarah were likely to be at each other’s throats with Jess in tears over it. 

Barhopping always sounded a lot more fun when you were the one drinking away a breakup. Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe it was time for you to find someone else. You weren’t still hung up on your ex anymore–far from it, the jackass–but sometimes another cat seemed more appealing then another guy. You had yet to meet anyone that really made you want to work at a relationship. A few dates here and there. Nothing serious.

The bartender didn’t seem all that thrilled at you returning his dirty cups, though you were grateful that he didn’t send you away. The last thing you wanted was to be drawn into a fight that would be completely forgotten in the morning. 

Turning on your stool, you made to face the indie band playing at the back of the bar. They weren’t very good, but they beat the tar out of whatever was going down back at your friends’ table. You figured you could give the lot of them twenty more minutes, and then they’d all be so annoyed with each other that they would agree to go home. Until then, crummy music and snatched bits of nearby conversation would have to do for entertainment.

“Come on, Raj. Go out and buy some girl a drink,” a shrill voice punctured the otherwise dull buzzing surrounding the bar. 

You glanced in the direction it came from without thinking to see a tiny blonde woman–even tinier than Jess–gesturing at the wide selection before her and her two companions. The nearest to you was another blonde, taller than the other and with an air of practiced charm, who did not speak up until she had finished whatever was in her bottle:

“Yeah, you don’t gotta marry her or whatever. Just practice talking to a few. Otherwise you might as well have stayed back with the guys playing Call of War.”

The man they were speaking to simply looked pained. He clutched a beer so tightly in his hand that you were surprised it hadn’t shattered. Why he was even there, you didn’t know. He didn’t seem to be having a good time, and it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t the designated driver. He wasn’t even dressed to be at a bar–then again, neither were you.

“Come on, Raj,” said the tinier one again. “You can talk to us, can’t you?”

Raj shook his head.

“Not enough booze,” she said in a stage whisper.

The taller of the two women rolled her eyes heavenward, then mussed her hair up with her free hand before making to disappear into the crowd. “I’ve got an audition tomorrow. We wait much longer to do this, and there’ll be no one left here worth meeting. Let’s go.”

“Right. Our racks’ll probably do a better job than a pet scientist anyhow.” The other took a step to follow her friend. She didn’t get very far before she stopped and turned back to Raj. “If you drink enough that you can use that tongue of yours, feel free to join us.” 

A nervous nod on his part, then she was off at a trot. The two girls passed by you closely enough that you distinctly heard her mutter:

 “As if that’ll ever happen.”

Now it was you, this Raj fellow, and a few other mostly silent patrons at the bar. As bad as the band was, it was still live music, and most people seemed more interested in that than sitting around waiting for someone to buy them a drink. Not that you needed a drink, since you had three stops to make on your way home, and not that Raj needed another one before he finished the one he already had. You sighed and tried to concentrate on the music, though you were pretty sure it was giving you a headache. How much longer until Jess passed out?

A few minutes passed before you looked over at Raj again. He was still there, still looking downcast. Every so often he would sway to the music. You felt for him, poor guy. This didn’t look like his scene at all, and it must have sucked being ditched by his girlfriends like that. Perhaps you were two peas in a pod for the time being. 

It might have taken you another five minutes, but finally you worked up the nerve to go over to him. His eyes darted to you and away not once, not twice, but three times as you walked toward him in the semi-darkness. Raj was kind of cute, in a dorky sort of way. Not the kind of guy you normally met at these sorts of venues. Perhaps not the kind of guy who wanted to meet you at these sorts of venues, since he looked outright terrified by the time you stopped in front of him.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly.

He took a gulp of beer.

“I’m [Name].”

Raj smiled. Your heart banged uncomfortably in your chest. Obviously this guy didn’t want to talk to you. Why not bail? But somehow the way the small woman had dismissed him earlier made you want to try harder.

“And you are?” you prompted him.

He opened his mouth. 

You leaned forward eagerly to catch whatever came out, and…

He closed it again. Raj closed his mouth and swallowed and smiled and bobbed his head, and then went on to stare past you, as though you were nothing more than yet another license plate on the wall. 

You were so disappointed that you couldn’t find it in yourself to move away for nearly thirty more seconds. Well, you thought as you walked off, at least you tried. Maybe now everyone would be ready to leave so that you could escape the site of your most recent embarrassment as quickly as possible. Your first time talking to a guy in months, and it had to turn out like that. Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe you were doomed to be the crazy cat lady.

“Don’t forget we have to pick up our pet scientist before we leave.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Would you quit worrying? He’s not even drunk. He can find his way home just fine. He’s not our child, Bernadette.”

You looked up at the familiar voices. The two women from before stood just a little bit in front of you, looking bored and a bit more pink around the edges.

Before you could stop it, your mouth was saying, “Um. Hey.”

They looked over at you in perfect unison. 

“Hi,” said Bernadette hesitantly. “Can we help you?”

Probably not. Almost certainly not. Why you were bothering, you didn’t know, but you took a step closer and nodded your head in the direction of the bar. “About your friend back there.”

The taller one frowned. “Who? Raj? What about him?”

“Does he speak English?”

They stared at you so hard that you wished you had never spoken to either of them. Then they burst into laughter. Having no idea what you had said that was so funny, you could only watch on, bewildered. What? He looked foreign. No big deal. Him not speaking English would explain a lot–and perhaps bolster your. confidence a little. 

No such luck. Bernadette recovered first: “Of course Raj can speak English,” she said, as though this were obvious.

“Oh, I just thought–he wouldn’t talk to me...”

“Oh, sweetie,” the larger woman said, leaning forward and patting your shoulder so hard that you nearly toppled over. “He can speak English. He just can’t speak to women.”

“What?”

But they were already moving past you. “Pity he can’t find enough alcohol here to get him to talk. That one was actually cute,” Bernadette said, just before they walked out of earshot. 

Cute? You looked back over at the bar. Raj remained there, still intent on swaying to the music.

“Hey, [Name]! You gonna help or what?” Sarah shouted at you.

Startled, you twisted around to see her and Jess struggling to keep Cassie on her feet. 

“Move your ass! We gotta get her home before she starts vomiting. It’s your car, remember?”

You remembered. Raj forgotten, you hurried over to take the brunt of Cassie’s weight. What with Jess and Sarah being so inebriated, they could only hinder the group’s slow and unsteady progress toward the door. What followed was another chunk of time dedicated to getting Cassie in the car and buckled in while the other two made jokes at her expense. 

You had finally got everyone settled in and were about to open the car door to get inside yourself when you spotted the same trio from before leaving the building. Raj looked more upset than ever, but what did that matter to you? He didn’t speak to girls.

Wait. Speak?

“[Name]!” Sarah shouted after you as you raced away from the car and toward Raj and his two friends.

“H-Hey! Wait up!” you called. 

They did, though you suspected this was because you looked like a madwoman, running up with your arms flailing above your head.

“Oh. It’s you,” said Bernadette. “Did you need something, or…”

“Raj!” you said, slightly out of breath after all the physical labor. 

The look on his face made it obvious that you knowing his name was not something he’d expected. He didn’t talk this time either, but he didn’t have to. 

You dove into your purse, resurfaced with a pen and paper, and quickly scrawled your name and number across the scrap. “Here.”

Looking confused, he took your bit of paper.

“Text me?”

Before you could get a straight answer, you scuttled off. You had to get Cassie home, after all. 

Bernadette’s said one last thing in her high voice before your car door shut behind you: “You better text that one, Raj! Before all that beer leaves your system!”

“What was all that about?” Sarah wanted to know.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” you said as your vehicle left the bar parking lot. “Let’s be quiet for now. Wouldn’t want to wake up Cass and Jess.”

She made a scoffing noise, but did as you directed. The drive home was relatively quiet and uneventful–save, just as you came back from laying Cassie out on her couch, your phone buzzing in the cup holder. You allowed yourself a peek and grinned.

“Rajesh Koothrappali. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home To Me - Chapter 5

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

Warning: angst

AN: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

AN2: A big thanks you to @instructionsnotincluded and @thedeviltohisangel for allowing me to soundboard ideas.

All previous chapters can be found here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah couldn't shake the weight of Fred's last words. When he mentioned how Lizzy never saw John again, it hit her like a plot twist in her own story, sparking a wave of unexpected empathy. As she slipped into her room, the phrase "never saw him again" echoed in her mind like a chilling melody. She paused on the edge of her bed, imagining the ache of love lost, trying to put herself in Lizzy’s shoes and how the outpouring of emotions the night before was like the reopening of a deep, old scar.

After a moment of reflection, Sarah found herself in the bathroom, letting the cool water ease the tension that clung to her. Emerging refreshed and resolute, she knew she had to dig deeper for answers. Heading downstairs, she made up her mind to untangle the mysteries that hung in the air and got in the car with Fred to head over to the museum.

The hours rolled past as Sarah read page after page of the notebooks donated by Fred's Aunt. There was so much about the everyday life of the base. The gossip between the Red Cross girls and the pilot, the consoling each other when some of them didn't come home. The office and makeshift archives became Sarah's sanctuary. 

She enjoyed the quiet. Both she and Lizzy lived in the constant hum that was London. It was always moving, there was always noise or people. Friends coming and going, music playing, or the TV on. But here, nestled in the quietness of the Norfolk countryside, Sarah would normally have found the peace and quiet deafening, but it gave her space to absorb everything she needed to.  

There were boxes of history waiting to be rediscovered; to be read and the people within them to be remembered. 

Sarah's fingers traced the faded ink of Jean's last notebook.  Taking her glasses off and rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes in the hope it would brush away the ache from reading too long. Pulling out the tie in her hair, Sarah ran her fingers through her hair, scratching in a half-hearted attempt at a head massage. She had received a text from Lizzy earlier in the afternoon to say that she was going to take a wander around the village with James and speak to a few of the locals.  

Sarah returned to scanning each line of Jean’s neat handwriting with a mix of determination and frustration. She had been pouring over records and photographs at the museum for what felt like hours, searching for any clue that could lead her closer to the truth about Lizzy.  

"Anything?" Fred’s voice was a welcome interruption. His tone was heavy with apprehension as he placed another cup of hot tea and a small bagel on the small coffee table. 

Sarah sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing significant.  Jean was good at note-taking but by god was she a gossip. To be fair to her, she kept better records than those who stamped theirs with 'Top Secret'.  But as she knew that nothing of note could be written down, she resorted to nicknames - Buck, Bucky, Benny, Bubbles and Bing" her voice tinged with disappointment. "But I'm not giving up just yet." as she turned another page, her gaze fell upon a familiar date - October 10th. Her heart quickened at the mention of Lizzy. 

“Fred - she talks about Lizzy!” Sarah rushed. The neatly printed words transported Sarah back, the scene forming in her mind's eye.

"Lizzy had been waiting around the tower all day, just as Bing and Jack had. I had taken up coffee and doughnuts to keep them fed and watered.  Just as I entered the observation deck, Jack shouted that he could hear engines. Before anyone could stop her, Lizzy was off like a shot, sprinting down the airfield," Sarah read out loud, her voice trembling slightly. “I will never get over hearing her scream. Even from the tower, it was the worst sound I ever heard.  Jack threw his coffee cup against the wall and Bing Crosby stumbled into the seat behind him.”

Sarah sobbed. She had seen Lizzy’s heartbreak the other night, slow-dancing outside with a whiskey glass in her hands, admitting that she hadn’t wanted to survive, Fred telling her that Lizzy never saw him again and now she was reading the very moment that caused all of her friend's heartache.

She envisaged her friend, with hope coursing through her body like lightning, driving the speed of her steps as she sprinted down the windy airfield. One hand on her cap and the other driving her forwards. Sarah imagined her whispering to herself that John might just have been lucky enough to survive.  She could see Lizzy, breathing so hard with each step getting closer until the crew started to climb out and then the realisation dawning on her that John had in fact not come home. The tarmac biting in to her knees as the weight of the reality crashed down on top of her.

Fred stopped what he was doing.. "Jean always used to say that they never knew who made it back until they got to the interrogation hut, he spoke softly, understanding the emotions bombarding Sarah. "Jean said that the Red Cross girls were all silent and then the minute the doors opened, they would have these jaw crippling smiles on.  She never directly spoke about Lizzy’s scream, but said that personnel at Thorpe Abbotts that day knew their cocky, whiskey drinking leader was not one of the lucky ones to have climbed out of the solitary battered fortress that had returned. 

Fred left Sarah alone to collect herself and headed back out to the museum where Lauren, a local school girl, was standing at the front desk. “Thanks for helping out Lauren.” She flashed up a wide grin.  “Not a problem Mr Thatcher. Mrs Colinson from the primary school phoned to see if they can bring the Year 4s up next week as part of their World War 2 history lesson.  I asked her to send you an email. Oh, a lady was looking for you.  Said that you were expecting her?  That she wrote to you a couple of weeks ago and said that she’s got some pictures and some documents for you? I said that she could take a look around while she waited for you, I hope that’s okay?” Fred nodded, expressing his gratitude at her kindness. “You can pack up and head home now, I’ll shut up shop.  No need for you to be here this late.  Make sure you call your mum and then head down to the main gate.” 

Fred left Lauren to tidy her things, as he went in search of the visitor.  He didn’t recollect receiving an email but then between running the pub, volunteering at the museum and looking after his dad, he could quite easily have missed it.  The couple were looking at one of the display cases, pointing at people in the photographs.  Fred didn’t want to be obnoxiously loud so scuffed his feet a little loud in the hopes that he could catch their attention. 

“Oh Mr Thatcher.  Thank you for seeing me.  My name is Abigail Clarke and this is my husband Michael. I emailed a few weeks ago to say that I would be in the country and that I had some documents and photographs for your collection.” Fred smiled apologetically. “I am so sorry Mrs Clarke, I do believe I received your email but I must admit that I forgot about your arrival.  How may I help?”  They discussed the contents of what Abigail was donating to the museum as they made their way back to the main area, just so happening to be crossing paths with Sarah - who looked tired and deflated. 

“Sorry to interrupt - Fred, I’ll be outside.  My brain is shot and my eyes are sore.  If Lizzy rings, tell her that I’m still here looking, albeit not with much look.” Sarah left the trio and pushed open the exit into the bright late afternoon sunshine.  Abigail and Fred continued to discuss her donation, explaining that the museum was run by volunteers and that it could be a lengthy process to catalogue her donation, but they would take a look and see about adding some if it to their displays. They walked slowly back towards the front of the museum where two small boxes of files, photographs and even a reel of 16mm camera film. Leaving her husband to discuss the intricacies of the B-17 and how often the English Sally-B flies overhead, Abigail headed outside. 

Sarah was leaning against the railing with her back to the door, on the phone. “No Liz, I'm fine! Yeah of course. How’s your head? Hahaha, Yeah well make sure you drink some water and eat something or you’re going to feel like shit for days.  No, it’s okay I’ll get something when I get back.” There was a pause.  Sarah pushed herself off the railing and turned and leant her back against it.  She exhaled, forcing the air out and inhaling the resolve to explain whatever it was that she had been asked. “Yeah, I found something.  Fred’s Auntie Jean was a Red Cross girl here - you remember her?” There was high-speed chatter.  Abigail wandered over to the monument looking at all the names of the men and boys who had left this place, never to return, trying hard not to eavesdrop.  “Yeah, well she liked to keep detailed notes - she...erm…she wrote about you?” Sarah suddenly became conscious of her company. “Yeah, she wrote about October 10th.  I’m so sorry Liz.  I really am.  Listen, I've gotta go.  I want to go through a few more bits before I get out of here.” 

The call disconnected and Sarah went to head straight back inside. “Sarah?” The voice called out softly. She turned around to find the woman who had been taking time at the memorial stone walking towards her.  “Yes? Can I help you? How did you…” The woman, a good two or three inches above Sarah’s 5ft 3” engulfed her in a huge hug, almost lifting her off the ground. “I would recognise you anywhere!” Sarah struggled against the unwelcome intrusion into her personal space.  The lady, who still had a gentle hold on Sarah’s elbows was in her late 40s to early 50s, blonde hair with streaks of silver grey.  She had blue eyes that reminded her a little of Lizzy’s. 

“I’m very sorry, do I know you?” the woman chuckled.  “No, not right now but don’t worry about that, the important thing is I have found you as I have been asked to give you this.” Abigail handed over an envelope, containing photographs. “I was told that these would be a great help to your research.” Sarah opened the envelope and took out the photographs.  “But how? Where did you get these?” Abigail smiled knowingly. “I got them from my….”  She never finished explaining where the photographs came from, as the man Sarah assumed was her husband called her away. 

Wandering back inside the museum, Sarah flicked through the photos, there were so many. A wonderful head shot of Lizzy in uniform, one of her standing in from the mess hall and at the officer’s club. But there was one that made Sarah’s head spin and in that moment, her whole outlook changed.  She thought this whole situation was bonkers, time travel, Lizzy knowing things she shouldn’t and yet now she was holding evidence, irrefutable proof that it was, after everything she had seen and been told, all true.  

Heading back to the office and with a surge of determination, she pulled out her notebook that was buried under all the declassified mission reports. Wiping clean the whiteboard that hung on the far wall, Sarah tried to make sense of the notes she had made only a few hours ago but they all seemed like gibberish now. Standing before the board and with shaky determination and not really sure where this was leading her, Sarah wrote “Dreams” and the dates that Lizzy’s dreams started and all the dates that Sarah could remember along with any words, or names that Lizzy had given her after they had talked through it. Underneath the dreams, Sarah wrote out all the missions that Lizzy had been on, with the dates underneath the name, all except the last one. The only thing that Sarah could add was the month and date. 

“Jesus Christ! It all fits! It all bloody fits.” Sarah scrutinised the board and the photographs she had received from the woman outside, studying them intently. Despite her efforts, there was no date on the back of the photographs or any other clue to indicate when they were taken. A sense of frustration washed over Sarah as her confidence plummeted, leaving her feeling as though she had hit a brick wall.

"When? When were you taken?" Sarah muttered, feeling like she was chasing after a thread that led nowhere. Emptying the contents of the envelope onto the table, she sorted through other photographs that appeared to be from the same time period: officers laughing in the sunshine, their hats off and some appearing relaxed despite wearing their uniforms. Rummaging through more boxes of photographs, Sarah grew increasingly desperate, convinced that she had encountered something similar before. If only she could figure it out, if only she could pinpoint their location, then she knew where to direct her search.

“Sarah, you okay? I’m just going to shut up shop and we can head back to the pub...” The look on Sarah’s face was wild. “Fred!! Do you know when this photograph was taken?” She practically shoved the black and white picture under his nose. “It’s the link Fred. That photograph links everything that Lizzy has been through.  I just have to find out how to make it all happen.” She took a seat perching on the edge of the chair, massaging her temples as Fred studied the photograph. “I couldn’t tell you when, but Liz does look happy though.  Maybe it was taken not long after she got here, not long after she met John.” Sarah took the photograph back and placed it back into the envelope.  “I don’t know Fred. That woman you spoke to earlier, she gave it to me. She knew me, by name, she never gave me hers, but said that she had to find me to give me this cos it would help me. I don’t have a clue what that means.  There’s something in the photographs that’s meant to tell me when this was taken. But I’d be fucked if I can work it out.” 

“You need a break Sarah, you’ve been at this all day. You’ve read so much you’re probably word blind and won’t be able to see the wood for the trees.  Besides, there might not be anything that we can do about it.” Sarah shook her head, not wanting to hear it. “There has to be Fred, there has to be, look at the fucking photo! Look at it, I’m in the bloody thing!! There has to be a way that this all comes full circle because I’m in that photo and I don't remember it and yet Lizzy remembers everything - she remembers everything and everyone and it’s breaking her heart all over again. You didn’t see her Fred, she won’t survive that kind of heartache again. I have to try and fix this. I have to find the answer and it’s here. I’m sure of it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back at the pub, Sarah and Lizzy sat at a table tucked away in the back, the evening sun casting a warm glow through the windows. Plates and cups multiplied around them as they caught up on their day, small talk interspersed with moments of serious discussion. Lizzy, still feeling fragile from her hangover, listened intently as Sarah shared her research endeavours, determined to uncover the truth behind their recent discoveries. Sarah kept the photograph from Abigail a secret for now, mindful of Lizzy's emotional state the night before.

As the evening progressed, Fred and Geoff joined them, bringing with them an air of camaraderie and purpose. With the museum's recreated board spread out on the table, they delved into the details of their past missions. Lizzy faltered when asked about her last mission, her memories clouded and fragmented. "I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't really remember much... just the flak and all the bomb groups, the largest run on Berlin in the whole war."

Sensing Lizzy's discomfort, Sarah exchanged a knowing glance with Fred and Geoff, silently acknowledging her struggle. Lizzy excused herself to fetch a round of drinks from the bar, leaving the others to pore over the evidence laid out before them. Geoff focused on studying the photographs, while Fred meticulously checked paperwork and logbooks.

Fred leaned over the table to talk to Sarah in quiet whispers. “You need to ask Geoff to have a look at that photo” Sarah’s eyes went wide. Twisting around to check on Lizzy’s progress at the bar, she slid the small, 3-inch by 2-inch, black and white photograph face-side down across the table. “Not a word to Lizzy.  Not until we have something concrete”. Geoff’s eyebrows shot up. “But this….” Sarah threw him a stern look. “Not a bloody word Geoff.” He nodded. Picking up his magnifying glass, he set out looking at the small photograph in all its finer detail.

As Sarah delved deeper into the dates surrounding Lizzy's last mission, her focus intensified. Returning to the group and passing around the drinks, Lizzy took a moment to watch her best friend as she sat with her cup of coffee. She couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched into Sarah's features. Despite her own deafening thoughts, Lizzy recognized Sarah's tireless determination, even amidst her own weariness.

Summoning her courage, Lizzy attempted to unlock the lid on her final memory, the one she had buried deep within herself. It was a memory that frightened her more than any other, a jumble of names and flashes that refused to coalesce into a coherent whole. "Rosie," she murmured aloud, drawing Geoff's attention as he turned to inquire if she had said something. Gathering her thoughts, Lizzy continued, "Rosie, that's who I flew with on the mission. Robert Rosenthal, a Brooklyn lawyer. He was the best pilot we had after..." Her voice trailed off as she drained her coffee and headed outside for a smoke, seeking solace in the cool night air.

Pulling out the files that Sarah had borrowed from the museum, she split them in half and handed them over to Fred, not looking at him as he gave her the look of "these should not be out of the museum." Knowing that they were only looking for February 1945 missions, this cut their research down by hours. "I've got it!" Sarah said triumphantly. Laying the mission report of Major Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal on the table, Sarah and Fred read the few short lines that were written about Lizzy. "Lt. Waterfield stayed steadfast her in choice to stay onboard despite the significant damage to our bomber. She expertly managed to keep the plane steady enough, despite being injured herself, so that I could get out. I am not aware of the whereabouts of Lt Waterfield at this time." Sarah looked at Fred and then at Geoff. "Does this mean..." The two men exchanged glances. "He's saying she probably went down with the plane, but because he didn't see a chute, he or the Air Force can't be certain that she didn't survive. So, she was classified as Missing in Action until such time evidence could be provided to the contrary." Sarah looked at everything on the table. "That," pointing at the report, "the day after the anniversary of that mission is when Lizzy's dreams started."

Suddenly, Geoff's voice broke their concentration. "Sarah, I think I've worked out when this photograph was taken," he exclaimed, pointing out a minuscule detail in the photograph that Sarah had handed to him. Sarah took the picture and magnifying glass and with Geoff carefully pointing at the detail, Sarah's breath caught in her throat. "Oh, holy shit!" she exclaimed, realising the significance of what had been uncovered. 

The trio were deliberating on the next steps when Lizzy came back to the group. "We think we know how to..." all of them now grappling with the dual desires expressed by Sarah and Lizzy: to "get you back" and to "make them stop." Recognizing the complexity of their situation, they agreed to sleep on it for the night, allowing time for reflection and planning. Sarah felt a sense of accomplishment and progress, hopeful that they were finally moving forward.

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @thedeviltohisangel

[lastweeksshirttonight]

All right, gonna attempt to put the writing cap back on for this blog. And what better way to do so than to do a recap of everyone's favorite (episode) five car pileup of a game show?

It's Strike Force Wives time y'all

:thunderclap:

We are going to speak EXTENSIVELY about what a trainwreck Fallon is in this episode, but let's also take time to acknowledge that Stephen opens this episode by mispronouncing 'podcast' in two separate ways (podcant and codpast). While saying they're getting the podcasting thing down. This episode was cursed from jump street.

Giving Fallon credit where it's due, introducing John as "a frequent guest on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert" is objectively hilarious. Reminds me of the time Stephen introduced him on the Late Show as "you know him from The Love Guru", which is still the funniest introduction I have ever heard for anyone.

The introduction goes off the rails at 1:30. AND WE'RE OFF

Kimmel: "My first radio job in Seattle was called the Him and Me Show". [...] Fallon: "Which one were you?" Kimmel: "I don't know. To this day I don't know." I could listen to Kimmel talk about his radio show days for hours, honestly, just for wild bits of ephemera like this.

As we all know, the theme of this episode is Strike Force Wives. Now Fallon is clearly trying to do something akin to The Newlywed Game, where you ask a couple one question and you see if their answers match. Here is a scene from Parks and Rec showcasing the general idea (except as Tom's ludicrously named Know Ya Boo):

Fallon somehow manages to completely fuck up this very simple concept. I'll be honest, I STILL don't know how he screwed this up so badly. He just needed to ask both people the same questions and give them clearly defined subjects!

Moments right before disaster: "[Kate, John's wife] wanted more details than I had available to her, and I said 'Jimmy's gonna text you and it will all become clear.' ...He started texting her and early on, it was in no way clear."

Related, I love that Stephen and Kimmel's wives were totally up for it, Seth's did not want to do this, and John's wanted more details. Lines up pretty well with my sense of them (from the guys' descriptions and talk about them + Evie being a literal gem during the COVID shows).

Seth's kid shrieking in reaction to Seth going to try and quiet them was absolutely perfectly timed.

This will sound very silly, but I genuinely love hearing about how people met their partners. (Maybe because my story is a bit boring? Mr. Lee and I met on a dating app and managed to go the distance despite only having 3 dates before COVID shutdowns.) You can tell so much about a relationship from those kinds of stories. In that vein, Kimmel joking about how he met his wife Molly at work and spinning it, as a joke, into a sexual harrassment lawsuit waiting to happen before being a little more honest and vulnerable was very cute.

Seth and Alexi's meet cute at Chris Kattan's wedding sounds like a sitcom plot waiting to happen.

John and Kate met at "the opposite of a meet cute", the 2008 Republican National Convention. Regular followers of my blog/Buglers may remember this as the point in time where John lost his goddamn mind and did an episode of the Bugle fully naked and kept inexplicably bringing that up in-between bemoaning how catastrophically depressing his surroundings were. (Episode 44, if you're curious. Have you gone through The Bugle Archive? Maybe you should. Be sure to download and not stream!)

Kimmel: "[Your wife] could have been Sarah Palin." John, clearly holding back 15+ years of accumulated hatred and in the most purposefully even tone ever: "It could have been."

Stephen's story about meeting his wife involved him literally fleeing an old girlfriend by going to South Carolina, seeing a Phillip Glass performance that he wouldn't recommend, and seeing Evie across the room at that performance and immediately knowing she was the one he was going to marry. Which, as Seth and John point out, was probably really reassuring to that old girlfriend.

I'm pretty sure this is the first time we get loud clapping when Fallon mentions "Fever Pitch". I actually kinda like "Fever Pitch", but my grading scale for baseball movies is extremely biased and flawed. Let's be real, baseball fans, is "Major League" actually overall good? Because it's like half a funny movie and half a movie about a random baseball player stalking his ex-girlfriend.

Addendum: Queen Latifah should have been in "Fever Pitch".

Addendum to the addendum: This has been playing on a loop in my head for like a week so also Rob McElhenney should have been in Fever Pitch.

Update to Chris Kattan's wedding: Seth and Alexi were pretty convinced that Chris' marriage was not going to last very long, making their meeting even more sitcom-like. Seth thinks that Chris and his ex-wife themselves didn't really believe that wedding was going to take either.

Kimmel wants to see all the fights that come out of this game. He says this before the real chaos even begins in the episode.

Lessons about England - dimples were part of the class system in the 1970s. Totally true. Definitely a well-documented phenomenon.

As someone with chronic stomach illness, I deeply relate to Kate realizing John was the one when she was stuck on the toilet trying to determine if there was blood in her stool. That precipice where you are, as John so eloquently put it, "shitting yourself to death" in the same general area as your partner is when you find out if love is real, trust me.

With that, I also don't disagree with Seth that Kate bringing that up was probably because Fallon didn't explain this game correctly at all.

The first time I heard the little horn noise transitions in the podcast, I was so fucking happy and got really in my feelings about John and the Bugle. That apparently has not worn off at all in the gap between the last episode of the show and me re-listening to this one.

Kimmel is the one to finally break the game, as he asks the very difficult question "is it when she fell in love with me or when I fell in love with her?" Fallon's response is to acknowledge that's where it gets confusing, and then everything implodes with everyone. (John yelling "There's no 'I think', it's your fucking question!", incidentally, made me fall in love with John all over again. But was that the question? Maybe every question is, in a way, the question. The questions are truly the friends we made along the way.)

"Climb inside his head. It's a happier place."

Evie going to visit Stephen in Chicago and calling her sister about his monogrammed towels is the most Jane Austen thing anyone relates in this podcast series. She saw the magnificent grounds towels of Pemberly, Illinois!

Fallon's story about a driver dropping him off on the set of Fever Pitch (CLAPCLAPCLAP) and noticing his wife's smile and pop leads directly into John saying that Fallon described his wife like a horse. Why are you constantly thinking about horses John

Kimmel's "a horse with a Jansport" joke gets lost in the chaos, which is sad because it's the funniest part of Fallon's whole story of falling in love with his wife.

"My second question was 'what do you think bothers your wife the most about you?'" You can almost hear Kimmel's eyes bug out a bit before he follows up with "While we're pondering that..."

Kimmel has been thinking about Kate's story for a bit clearly, and is befuddled by the idea that a veteran combat medic would ask John to check her stool. I mean, he has a point.

Seth and Alexi seem like a parody of a chaotic couple sometimes. I cannot imagine caring about filling a humidifier. It seems to greatly occupy Seth's mind.

Molly and Alexi somehow ended up with different questions for the same round. Molly and Kimmel are on the same page about Kimmel's messiness at least?

Stephen pulling out his Colbert Report hat to tell Fallon "that's not what you said, but I'll accept it" made me cry laughing the first time I heard it.

Stephen: "I wanna say that she said that I'm selectively anal." Consummate frat bro Kimmel: 🤯

The moment where everyone starts going 'oh' after Stephen explains his fastidiousness is a nice, rare moment of everyone clowning on someone who isn't Fallon this episode.

Fallon thinks his wife is most irritated by his overthinking tendencies. Literally everyone else on this podcast is pretty sure that she's annoyed by his "inability to ask a coherent question". And a collection of badly worded questions asking basic concepts from all the guys.

Nancy then responded with what DOESN'T bother her, which...

I need to put a block break here because I've written too much about this podcast, lol. Happy Spooky Season!

ONWARDS!

I forgot this episode also had the adventures of Fallon eating the weirdest food possible in bed, like pizza and ramen. (Seth squeaks "soup?!" in a high-pitched quiet voice in the background.) Stephen, when asked if he eats food in bed, says he'll occasionally have a lozenge, which I am pretty sure does not qualify as food.

John: "What irritates me most about [Kate] - I hope she doesn't mind me saying this, she shits blood sometimes." Y'all I love two men and this is one of them

The Ryan Reynolds commercials are hit or miss, but the phrase "ivory underground bunker" is one I've gotten a lot of mileage out of to describe certain members of the US Congress.

Fallon forgot that there was a third option to his question about pet names. You could not script better escalation of absurdity.

The half-hit lightning strike is such a good noise. It sounds like a rustling sheet (something Seth notes pretty accurately).

Stephen's utterly convoluted explanation of how he thinks his imaginary version of his wife's pet name for him is Steve is, as Seth points out, a pretty solid way to answer a Jimmy Fallon question.

Seth and John both seem bewildered at the idea of calling someone "love duck", which, fair.

Esteban Colberto definitely is a deep cut. It's such a deep cut that it seems like Colbert completely fucking forgot about it.

Everything about Anastasio Somosa on this podcast kills me. Kimmel devoted almost 5 hours to making an AI message of Somosa telling Stephen he's proud of him as his son, which also kills me. If Kimmel and John ever joined their trolling forces, I think they could probably do some absolutely insane damage.

Molly's pet name answer: "Trump called him a low-rated loser, does that count?"

Alexi getting the pet name question so wrong that she just named her actual pet makes Stephen laugh harder than I have EVER heard him laugh. Ever.

Ranking everyone's family traditions from most to least weird: Meyers family's secret language > Kimmel's birthday cake for Jesus on Christmas (honestly a great idea) > Colbert men singing songs from the movie Zulu > Fallon banging pots and pans outside on NYE > Colbert family sharing the same story over and over again like they've never heard it > Kimmel making 20+ fishes > Alexi's father's karaoke nights > Oliver Uno championship (also a Lee family tradition, weirdly enough) > John and Kate having Italian food on Thanksgiving (this feels super LA, I know a lot of people who do this or get sushi)

Weird to hear Stephen briefly transform into my dad while discussing Zulu.

To round us off, a collection of quotes John has about Fallon's incredible inability to run this game: "Your staff all need their wages doubled." "Just because you inflect up at the end of a sentence doesn't make it a question." "They've had to insert an internal logic to what you're asking, and you're complaining that THEY'RE confused!" (upon the question being changed in the same round) "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" "When you ask her how's her day, what do you say? 'How do you think... days went? For your sister's sister?'" "You're being fed through Google Translate, that's how you sound." "Jimmy. How do you think this went?"

[iamstartraveller776]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Snagged this from @curator-on-ao3!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?:

110. However, if I count the oneshots individually, it's actually 152. (This does not include 4 other stories that are archived on old Trek sites. This also does not include the 5 stories that I've moved to the Anonymous collection.)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?:

613,518

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Trek: TOS/AOS/Disc

Star Trek: Enterprise

Labyrinth (1986)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Once Upon a Time

Shadow and Bone

Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

(I also briefly dabbled with Tom Hiddleston and David Bowie RPF back in the day—the stuff that's in the Anonymous archive).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Princess and the King (Labyrinth, Jareth and Sarah, T)

Text Alert (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

Intoxicated [Rewritten] (Star Trek, Sarek/Amanda Grayson, T)

Drunk Dial (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarh, T)

Touch (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Sometimes it takes me a while to reply, but I always try to. I'm so grateful to anyone who takes the time to leave me a comment. (Also, I'm a 20 year fandom veteran, and back in the day it was considered the norm to reply to comments.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I write a lot of oneshots, so there are quite a few with unhappy endings, lol. What comes to mind is Honor Above All Else (OUAT, Robin Hood/Regina Mills, G). OH WAIT. No, it's got to be Just a Dream (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah, M).

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

Maybe Three Months on Vulcan (Star Trek ENT, Trip/T'Pol, T)?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only once. Back in the day, there were some antis who were super offended when we kept shipping Regina and Robin Hood (OUAT) when his wife came back from the dead (which turned out not to be his wife). Someone left a review on a fic that I was supporting infidelity and I was a horrible person. I deleted the comment. Ain't nobody got time for trolls. ;)

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

I have very, very few M-rated stories. Usually I just pan to the sky, but when I don't, it's because I feel it serves the story somehow and it's generally more poetry and emotion than descriptions of the mechanics.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Only twice. The funnest one is When Fairy Tale Meets Mythology (OUAT/MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, Emma Swan/Killian Jones, T).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, but these days, I wouldn't be surprised.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I was asked a couple of times, but never got the links of the finished product. *shrug*

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh, yeah. I've done round-robins, fandom Big Bangs, etc. Not recently though.

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

That's like asking me to pick a favorite child (and I happen to have six of those). You can't make me!

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

Want to finish but probably won't? Maybe my unfinished Outlaw Queen stories?

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oneshots. I can short-story like a champ.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing multi-chapter stories. Ugh.

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

I've done it, though I've tried to keep it to a minimum, making sure it serves a purpose. I also try to make it easy to guess the meaning with context and always, always include the translation in the end notes. OH. And if it's a real language (unlike Vulcan), I try to get the help of a native speaker rather than rely on Google Translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek: Enterprise.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

That's another hard one to pin down. Here, I'll give you my favorite fic for each fandom:

Through the Dark Mirror Series (ST:ENT, Trip/T'Pol, T)*

A New Perspective (ST:TOS/AOS/DISC, Sarek/Amanda, G)

Pertinacious Wills (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah, T)*

Touch (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

Songs Beneath the Stars (OUAT, Emma/Killian, T)

The Worth of a Broken Soul (OUAT, Robin/Regina, T)*

That Which Blooms in Stillness (SAB, Aleksander/Alina, T)

We Are (TROP, Halbrand|Sauron/Galadriel, G)

*Yes, these stories are currently incomplete and on hiatus indefinitely, but that doesn't stop me from loving what I created. I hope to get back to them one day!

Tagging: EVERYONE! If you want to play, consider yourself tagged by me. I'd love to read your answers! ❤️

[usnatarchives]

Preservation Technician cleans a record while wearing a battery powered air-purifying respirator for protection. Decontamination Lab, National Archives at St. Louis, MO.

Conservators: Magicians of the Archives! November 4 is #AskAConservator Day! Our conservators will take over Twitter Nov. 4 to answer your burning questions about how we deal with mold, water and insect damage in order to preserve these records for generations to come! Ask questions & follow the hashtag to see who else is participating worldwide. 

See related National Archives News story: Fulbright Scholar Joins Heritage Science Lab and Tumblr post: We Welcome Cancy Chu - Our 1st Heritage Science Fulbright Scholar!

Check out our state-of-the-art labs! Lab at the National Archives, St. Louis, MO See this lab’s continuing work to save and reconstruct the records damaged in the 1973 fire. 

Magna Carta Conservation Treatment See NARA conservators use UV photography to reveal previously illegible writing on a 1297 Magna Carta (on loan from David M. Rubenstein).

Ultraviolet fluorescence photo of the 1297 Magna Carta parchment (before treatment) revealed obliterated text in damaged areas. Photo by Sarah Raithel. Related press release: National Archives Conservators Reveal Previously Illegible Text in Magna Carta

Saving the Iraqi Jewish Archive Days after the Coalition forces took over Baghdad in 2003, American soldiers entered Saddam Hussein’s flooded intelligence building and found, under four feet of water, books and documents relating to the Jewish community of Iraq. Learn how these records were vacuum freeze-dried, preserved and digitized under the direction of the National Archives. View these records here.

Peek “behind the scenes” to see treatment of these records in the National Archives state-of-the-art Conservation Lab.

Due to mold, conservation staff wore gloves and masks, and worked under ventilation hoods whole working with records from the Iraqi Jewish Archive. 

Preserving Family Histories Paper conservator Annie Wilker repairs an 18th-century fraktur and demonstrates techniques used to preserve damaged documents.

More secrets revealed online!

What's a Conservator?

NARA Conservators Meet the Challenge Every Day, Prologue Magazine

Repairing Existing Damage to Family Papers and Photographs

Declaration of Independence - learn about the conservation treatment and re-encasement of the document.

Preserving the Dunlap Broadside 

[sarah-fandom-account]

mob’s ability to roast people is truly unparalleled in the manga. he always hits the pressure points, too

[sarah-hell-pit]

being an adult means growing up and realizing War and Peace is really fucking good, actually

Tolstoy knows how to capture subtleties of the contradictions and nuances in the human condition. How people relate to one another

[chronicallysarah]

becoming an adult means growing up and realizing I owe the furry community absolutely everything

[writtenonreceipts]

chatter - writtenonreceipts - Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas [Archive of Our Own]

In which there is chaos.

A fic told through text messages of people being fools. Chapter 1 of 2.

Written for day 4 of Aelin week: Aelin and her family. @rowaelinscourt

[kyeomyun]

𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 <3

here are my wonderful moots! some new and some being in my life for longer! either way, i have infinite love for all of them <3

————————————♡———————————

✿︎ — @stormyjisung || my joshua to my dokyeom, my bestie for 2 years, my jewel, just my other half, my wifey. love her to the moon and back. she is literally the definition of comfort. she is one of the main reasons i look up to life. a shua simp in their purest form. if you ever see me writing poems or stories, 9 times out of 10 it's me confessing my love for nyx. #{🤎} — my luv ^^

✿︎ — @star1117-archives || MY HUBBYYY. the most relatable mf ever tbh. he always manages to make me either laugh, cry, or scream. sometimes combinations of all. love you, babe. #{🌟} — miles ^^

✿︎ — @m4rsluv || MY NINI :(( this is literally my GIRL RIGHT HERE. making every conversation memorable and so so fun. crazy at times but we are crazy together. we are the duo that simps so much and feed into each other delusions bc that's what real besties do duh 🙄 #{🪐} — nini ^^

✿︎ — @gyu-effect || sarah is just that someone you have solace around. easy-going and matches your energy so so well. TAEMIM SURPREMECY >>>> is her vibe LOL. the times we talk are like sitting in a field of sunflowers and staring out into the sunset. kinda deep but childish at the same time 😭 #{🌼} — sarah ^^

✿︎ — @trblsvt || LI. WE TYPE IN CAPS FOR NO REASON BUT ITS ALWAYS SO FUN CHATTING WITH HER <//3. also just so freaking cool and idk how. but what to expect from a nct stan AHA. #{🌱} — li ^^

✿︎ — @luvhyun3 || do not really talk much to this cutie but the times we did talk felt just.. so soft? really want to find out more about her because her personality is so soft from what i've seen so far :< #{🪴} — kana ^^

✿︎ — @fairyhaos || my precious yena :(( the sweetest person ever and just so soft-spoken. best way to describe her: joshua. definitely a calm person a very calm person/hj. SHE IS SO 🙀💕💝💓💝💓💝💓💞💘 literally she is my precious :((. that one friend you would want to keep around forever. i am never letting go of her 👹. the person you will want to PROTECC. #{🦌} — yena ^^

✿︎ — @etherealyoungk || SKYE. OMG. this is literally my bestie. YOU 🫵🏽 WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!? but in all seriousness, we clicked so fast and she is just so 🤌🏽🤌🏽 (hope that makes sense). BUT THIS IS JUST A FRIENDSHIP READY TO BLOSSOM MORE. convos with her are inspiring AHAHAH. like- we can fr sit in silence and be satisfied. #{🐯} — skye ^^

✿︎ — @icyminghao || another sweet bean. COMPLIMENT HER. IT MAKES HER HAPPY. seriously though, she is like a floofy cloud. just a total softie. ANOTHER PERSON I WILL WANT TO PROTECT FOR ETERNITY. she is always so happy when she text and i do want to see her no other way because if i do see her sad best believe i will do anything in my power to make her happy again. #{🐶} — noelle ^^

✿︎ — @odxrilove || literally have not spoken to her much yet BUT THAT'S MY BAD. she was doing smth ;-;. i really enjoy your fresh aura. really curious about you and very excited to see how this journey goes 👀 #{🐸} — dori ^^

✿︎ — @jaehunnyy || haven't really had a one on one convo YET. BUT HER ENERGY MATCHES YOURS SO WELL. like omg. chip is like your hypewoman in a way? idk how to describe her. i am an absolute simp for her. we legit got married not too long ago. SHE IS THE MOST GORGEOUS HUMAN BEING WTH. im so in love with her. #[🐱] — chip ^^

✿︎ — @selenicives || WE JUST MET AND I AM IN LOVE AHAHAH. personality just shines right through and it's so AMAZING. they are so funny and oh my lord. i am so excited to talk to them so much more because... wow. #[���] — moony ^^

✿︎ — @wheeboo || rania... just a total sweetheart. she is the literal definition of "sweetheart". she is the damn word actually. i really want to talk to her more AND I WILL. because she is just 💕💕💕 yk? can't wait to talk to her more <3. #[🪻] — rania ^^

✿︎ — @rubywonu || nia :((. once she gets her account back I REALLY want to talk to her. but she is really lovely and like i cannot see anybody hating her? but once she gets her account back, this will be WAY longer. #[🐈‍⬛️] — nia ^^

thank you all for being here with me! you guys are the sweetest (chaotic), most talented people ever. hopefully we can grow closer as time goes by!

s/n: moots! if you guys want me to change your emoji, just dm me!

[belsasim]

The next day, the Dreamers took the time to really relax and rest. Rayne took everyone snorkeling. As the youngest boys weren't very good at swimming yet, they snorkelled in the safety of the Ohan'ali lagune.

Afterwards, they went their own ways for a while. The youngest twins started to build a gigantic sand castle on the beach, while Kit and Zinnia stayed in the water and floated around, enjoying the Sulani sun (somehow less harsh than the Oasis Springs sun) and gentle embrace of the water. Rayne and Sarah found a few comfortable chairs to relax on. But not before Rayne had to discreetly turn away a few paparazzi that had found out about the Dreamer's whereabouts.

"Come on," he said, "just give me and my family some space here." Squinting his eyes a little and looking at them intensely, Rayne added: "And don't you dare take pictures of my children, that would be a pretty dumb idea." One paparazzo looked at him defiantly: "What do you mean, Mr. Dreamer? Is that a threat?" Rayne just shrugged, more tired than annoyed. "You decide if you want to find out. But think about it: are a few shots of my kids worth losing your whole portfolio?"

Rayne turned around en started to walk towards Sarah, just when the paparazzo received at text message saying: "Friendly reminder to choose a better password for your archives. Wouldn't want to loose those 'tasteful' nude pics, right? - The mother." While Rayne gave her a loving kiss on the cheek, Sara smiled and winked at the paparazzo, waving her phone.

The Dreamers didn't have to deal with paparazzi for the rest of their vacation 😎

---

I just realised that, while playing all through Rayne's childhood and teen years, I never credited the creator of the beach lot I always use for Sulani.

It's 'Island Living Beach' by RaresWithR on the Gallery and I put it in every save of mine ☺️

[morning-softness]

For Day 2 of the @a-mag-a-day event, Statement 1: Anglerfish (I was going to send an ask but this got way too long so I’m making my own post.)

I want to focus on Jon and specifically on the way Jon structures the statement recordings.

I just started taking a management course, and since it’s going to involve reading articles and writing essays, as part of our introductory materials we got this description of reflective writing in a research writing style:

“First, identity the most pertinent points from your reading. Make reference to this reading by quoting the original text/author and support this research using examples from your own experience if the question requires. A reflective piece of writing should describe 1. what happened, 2. a consideration of possible factors influencing the process, 3. the outcome, and 4. a ‘take away’ factor.

And I realized that, with his Research background, this is exactly how Jon structures his recordings of statements.

Jon starts by giving the listener the most pertinent information—who gave the statement, what the statement is about, and when it was given: “Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an encounter on Old Fishmarket Close, Edinburgh. Original statement given April 22nd 2012.”

Next he describes what happened, recording the statement in full exactly as it was written.

Afterwards, he reflects on the statement following the reflective structure:

1. He describes the outcome of the statement, as well as all facts about what actually happened, as far as the research team could determine: “The investigation at the time, and the follow-up we’ve done over the last couple of days, have found no evidence to corroborate Mr. Watts’ account of his experience. […] However, Sasha did some digging into the police reports of the time and it turns out that between 2005 and 2010, when Mr. Watts’ encounter supposedly took place, there were six disappearances in and around the Old Fishmarket Close: Jessica McEwen in November 2005, Sarah Baldwin in August 2006, Daniel Rawlings in December of the same year, then Ashley Dobson and Megan Shaw in May and June of 2008. Then finally, as Mr. Watts mentioned, John Fellowes in March 2010. All six disappearances remain unsolved.” He doesn’t do it here—likely because he doesn’t have any—but in some of the following statements Jon will mention personal experience related to the statement contents.

2. He gives a consideration of possible factors influencing the statement: “Baldwin and Shaw were definitely smokers, but there’s no evidence either way about the others, if they’re even connected.”

3. And he ends with a take-away factor: “Sasha did find one other thing, specifically in the case of Ashley Dobson. It was a copy of the last photograph taken by her phone and sent to her sister Siobhan. […] It appears to be the same alleyway which Mr. Watts described in his statement, […] and increasing the contrast appears to reveal the outline of a long, thin hand, roughly at what would be waist level on a male of average height. I find it oddly hard to shake off the impression that it’s beckoning.” The take away: the series of unsolved disappearances, combined with the photograph, mean the statement cannot be entirely dismissed.

I know people in tma fandom like to joke about Jon being bad at archiving and turning the Archives into Research 2.0, and that’s not wrong exactly, but from his description of the state of the Archives, Gertrude was even worse in terms of actual archiving:

“From where I am sitting, I can see thousands of files. Many spread loosely around the place, others crushed into unmarked boxes. A few have dates on them or helpful labels such as 86-91 G/H. Not only that, but most of these appear to be handwritten or produced on a typewriter with no accompanying digital or audio versions of any sort. In fact, I believe the first computer to ever enter this room is the laptop that I brought in today. More importantly, it seems as though little of the actual investigations have been stored in the Archives, so the only thing in most of the files are the statements themselves.”

Jon might not have all the right equipment or techniques, but at least he’s trying to organize the statements and make digital and audio copies, instead of just flinging them around or shoving them in a box. I’m also struck by the fact that Jon describes the Institute’s process of Take Statement—>Research Department Investigates—>Statement and Follow Up Report Are Archived, but then notes that most of the files he’s encountered in the Archives are missing the investigative information from the Research department. Was Gertrude not passing along statements to the Research department? Or was she taking their hard work and throwing it out? Either way, it’s small wonder Jon—insecure in his new position—tries to handle it within his team rather than send so many old statements back up to the Research department.

Jon and his team have been given a real mess to handle here, especially with no guidance or relevant prior experience. The frustration at this impossible task he’s been assigned and the minimal support he’s being given bleed into his voice despite his efforts to put on a professional front. Anyway, the reason I loved Jon starting from episode 1 is that to me he feels like someone who is completely out of his depth in a new situation and doing his best to handle it using the skills and experience he already has, while aware they are woefully inadequate.