#we guess? this is one of our personal favorite dialogue bits its just the Everything Else thats fighting us

[mantisgodsdomain]

we would like to hear what the normal usual moth activities are and also who's in the time loop (re: the wip ask game)

WELL! Normal usual moth activities are Normal and Usual and Standard and perfectly usual for moths of all kinds. It's one of our Very Fun Whumptober prompt fics that kind of grew a mind of its own (more specifically for "hold them down") in which Leif gets injured on a mission while the only member of Team Snakemouth available, and thus has to lean on the other Explorer's Association members to patch them back up.

As you can probably see from the prompt title, it goes Bad, and everything goes downhill from here. Also has one of our personal favorite dialogue segments which we are putting below the cut.

And, uhh, Scarlet. Scarlet is in the time loop. More specifically, Scarlet is in a time loop where he is backed into a corner with two very unconscious bugs that are Very Easy to pin on him, in which he has about five minutes of prep time to look Not Suspicious and/or prevent Team Snakemouth from beating his skull in.

He does not know the end of loop conditions. He has a very limited amount of life force. Leif's specific mode of "vision" is not actually significantly impaired by most walls. Everything is going terribly.

Normal moth activities below cut:

“He’ll probably be fine later,” Zasp offered, speaking up for the first time since the meeting had started. “He’s still moving around, so he’s probably not dying.”

“There is a hole. In his chest.”

Zasp blinked at Kina, squinting as if she’d just asked something wholly stupid. “Yes…?”

“People die when they have holes in their chests. Generally.” Maki felt a bit as though he was falling into another dimension. “From bleeding. And damage to the ganglia.”

Zasp squinted at him. “Leif isn’t bleeding”

“I dunno, dude, his ganglia looked- pretty damaged to me,” Celia piped up. “Like, uhh, dangling out of his chest damaged, which-“

“He didn’t die last time he had his ganglia dangling out of his chest. And he got back to normal pretty quickly once I put them back in.”

Maki took a moment to process that. A very, very long moment. He could see Kina’s face going completely blank wth dumbfounded bafflement out of the corner of his eye.

“…last time?” Levi finally asked, looking as though he very much did not want to know the answers that might come from such a question. Zasp nodded, seeming to put no weight at all into their expression.

“Yes. Last time. In the lost sands, with the dune scorpion? Do you not- Mothiva, back me up here?”

“Oh, was that what you were doing when you wandered off during the tour?”

“Yes.”

“Can we get back to the part where his brains were hanging out of his chest? Please?”

[unfoldingmoments]

Days at Morasaki Bookshop

I don’t know. I think maybe I’ve been wasting my time, just doing nothing. I don’t think so. It’s important to stand still sometimes. Think of it as a little rest in the long journey of your life. This is your harbor. And your boat is just dropping anchor here for a little while. And after you’re well rested, you can set sail again.

Human beings are full of contradictions.

It’s funny. No matter where you go, or how many books you read, you still know nothing, you haven’t seen anything. And that’s life. We live our lives trying to find our way. It’s like that Santōka Taneda poem, the one that goes, ‘On and on, in and in, and still the blue-green mountains.’

The act of seeing is no small thing. To see something is to be possessed by it. Sometimes it carries off a part of you, sometimes it’s your whole soul. - Motojirō Kajii’s, "Landscapes of the Heart"

It started in my late teens. I was feeling depressed. I couldn’t see the value of life anymore. I couldn’t seem to fit in, at home or at school. I just withdrew into myself and closed everything else out. I was overly self-conscious, I had too many ideals and ambitions for one person, and because of that, I ended up without a single one I could hold on to. I was an empty person. That’s what I was. It seemed like there was absolutely nowhere I belonged in this world. You were born right around that time. I first met you when my sister brought you back home to introduce my father and everyone to his new granddaughter. The instant I saw you, so tiny wrapped up in your blanket, sleeping so peacefully, I thought I might cry. How can I put it? I could feel the mystery of life filling my heart. The idea of this child growing up, experiencing so many things for the first time, absorbing so much—all of it brought me as much joy as if it were happening to me.

All of a sudden, I felt as if my twisted heart was being filled with warm light. It was still blurry, but I could feel a sense of purpose growing within me. That’s when I made my decision. It was time to stop shutting myself up in a cage. It was time to get moving, to look around, and learn what I could from it all. Time to go in search of a place where I belonged, a place where I could say with confidence that I felt right. All the trips I went on, all the books I read, were the consequences of that decision. In other words, Takako, meeting you led me to a kind of epiphany. “An epiphany . . . That’s amazing.” “So, that’s what I mean when I say you’re the one who saved me. That’s why I’ll do anything for you.

The joy of realizing that someone loved me that much made my heart want to burst. I tried to make a joke to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. “Uncle,” I said, “that’s not exactly dialogue you should deliver while you’re eating shredded squid.

“My uncle laughed out loud. “So did you end up finding the place you belonged?” “Well, I guess you might say that. But it took me many years to get there.” My uncle nodded quietly. “This is it. Our little, rundown Morisaki Bookshop. I had so many aspirations. I flew all over the world only to end up back at the place I’d known every bit of since I was a child. Hilarious, isn’t it? After all that time, I came back here. That’s when I finally realized it wasn’t just a question of where I was. It was about something inside me. No matter where I went, no matter who I was with, if I could be honest with myself, then that was where I belonged. By the time I realized that, half my life was over. So I went back to my favorite harbor, and I decided to drop anchor. For me, this is a sacred place. It’s where I feel most at ease.” “That reminds me,” I said. “A long time ago, Sabu told me that you were the store’s savior.” He laughed. “Its savior? That’s a pretty big exaggeration. Basically, when my father fell ill, the business was on the brink—all I did was take over and keep it going. At first, my father was pretty strongly opposed to me taking over the shop. It was a tough time in the used book business, after all, and I was this irresponsible guy. But I got down on my knees and pleaded with him to entrust the shop to me.

This shop might not be indispensable for most people, but if it matters that much to even just one other person, then I feel I can keep it going for decades. It’s like the line from Naoe Kinoshita in "Confessions of a Husband", ‘My boat travels lightly, drifting aimlessly at the mercy of the current.’ That’s how I want to live my life with this shop,” my uncle said, and then he smiled without saying any more.

Don’t be afraid to love someone. When you fall in love, I want you to fall in love all the way. Even if it ends in heartache, please don’t live a lonely life without love. I’ve been so worried that because of what happened you’ll give up on falling in love. Love is wonderful. I don’t want you to forget that. Those memories of people you love, they never disappear. They go on warming your heart as long as you live. When you get old like me, you’ll understand. I don’t think it really matters whether you know a lot about books or not. That said, I don’t know that much myself. But I think what matters far more with a book is how it affects you.

Excerpt From: Satoshi Yagisawa. “Days at the Morisaki Bookshop.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

-------------------------

Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

--------------------

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

---------------------

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[pocketfulofrecs]

ChilianXianzi was one of the first authors I (Dee) read in this fandom and These Mortal Treasures was one of the first fics I read. ChilianXianzi has a great writing style and you’re fully immersed into the story she’s weaving. We are really looking forward to anything she writes in the future.

She has written 39k+ words on 7 works, both mdzs and cql canon. You can find her @chilianxianzi on Tumblr.

Her fics:

To Not Vainly Break Branches - [mature | 3k | wip | emperor LWJ/empress WWX]

For Safekeeping Purposes - [mature | 2.9k | crime boss/sugar daddy LWJ]

The Shadows of My Old Places, Falling Across the Moats - [teen | 8.4k | QHJ goes to Burial Mounds]

To Start A Bridge From A Single Log - [teen | 4.7k | epistolary]

These Mortal Treasures (our post) - [teen | 9.3k | dragonji]

They say - [teen | 3.1k | LWJ is troubled by rumors]

Proximity to Knowledge (our post) - [teen | 7.2k | WWX protection squad]

Dee’s favourite: These Mortal Treasures, definitely. It is one of the first fics I read when I entered this fandom. It is also one that planted the idea of writing a dragon fic. I really love it. The story, the pacing, LWJ’s response to WWX, everything.

Ju’s favourite: Proximity to Knowledge! I love genius WWX, and I love WWX and his ducklings, and this fic gives me both so well! Jingyi pov is so much fun, and all the juniors doing whatever they can to be close to WWX and learn from him just makes me so happy. It’s a really good fic to read when you’re feeling down.

The Interview:

Q. When did you start writing fics? Did you have fandoms before this one?

A. I think around 2006-ish? I used to write character and quest mods for Baldur's Gate 2 before I went through the Knights of the Old Republic fandom and the whole ouvre of Bioware's games, although Dragon Age was the fandom I was most involved in and wrote the most for. There was of course a Harry Potter phase amidst all that, as one does, but also a good deal of Sailor Moon.

Q. What made you start writing for MDZS?

A. Definitely the worldbuilding and the issues and themes raised in canon. In a way, MDZS is the complete package of family issues, class issues, communal responsibilities, my childhood love for Wuxia/Xianxia, and the increasingly dangerous and volatile court of public opinion - which is also reflected very prominently in the MDZS fandom proper.

And let's not forget the Wangxian, because they're just a couple that works not just because they look good together (They do) and have a deep love for each other (Hell yeah they also do), but they also work perfectly together because they are constantly, stubbornly striving for the same values in a world where such values often come second after ideas of honor and performative righteousness.

Q. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

A. It's an ongoing one and it's called "To Start a Bridge From A Single Log" where I wanted to explore the possible uses of Cultivation outside of the super insular scope of the cultivation world and how that would impact both communities, because all of these hogging of spiritual resources, I cannot stand it. But it also has ridiculous amounts of Wangxian mutual pining so there's that, it's just all my favorite things piled up together.

Q. What’s your favourite type of fics to read?

A. Oh, it really depends on my mood at the moment like that's why rec blogs like this is just so *mwah chef's kiss* because there's just a ready selection of different stuff for different occasions! In the MDZS fandom, I do gravitate towards fics about Wei Wuxian finding a home and his place in the world outside of his Jiang upbringing, or fics where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian just work together realizing their mutual vow, being a good role model for the juniors.

Q. What’s your favourite comment? Or type of comment?

A. Any comment is a favorite, honestly! Writing stories are just like talking to people right, so being answered is always nice :D I suppose whatever the comment is, it's just always really interesting and heartening to see that parts of what you're talking about resonates with other people, enough to get an answer in words :)

Q. What motivates you to write?

A. I think I'm inherently a very angry person. Like literally the way I set my career path had been to find what things made me the most angry and do my best to fix it, and I feel like that's also my approach to writing. I would tackle something I think is a problem or a question that makes me angry and try to find my way through it via the characters and worldbuilding - And even if in the end the problems don't get solved or the questions are not answered, there would still be dialogue incited and there would still be the process of seeing said problem from many perspectives as writing (and reading!) encourages you to do.

Q. Who’s your favorite author?

A. The authors that really stayed with me are the Shoujo mangakas of the late 80s and the 90s, because they gave me examples on so many different ways to express myself outside of the one-note "girls should be like this" sentiments that were still somewhat prevalent when I grew up. My favorite has to be Kyoko Hikawa, though. Other writers would probably be Margaret Atwood and Nnedi Okorafor because of the way they talk about many issues through stories so they're not directly talking about it but still kinda blatantly talking about it.

Q. What is your favorite trope to read and/or write?

A. Curtain fics! There's just something inherently telling about how a character approaches the everyday and its logistics, because in a way these everyday things around them are also the things that molded and shaped them to be who they are.

Q. Do you have any advice for new authors?

A. I guess start small? I used to teach piano and after all the godawful finger exercises and endless scales it's always SO nice and validating for the kids (and adults!) to be able to complete an actual song, even if it's just a tiny piece of twelve bars. And I feel like it's a bit like that with writing too, the joy of just like, finishing something with your own hands and then having people hear/read it is such a great motivator to do more. Like we could totally start with super simple goals and as we go on, the goals or the objectives could become bigger or more diverse.

Q. What do you think is the most important element in writing? Plot, characterization, relationship?

A. I really think it depends on what kind of experience you're looking for your readers to have? For me, some plots or concepts are so engaging that you'd be fine even if the characters are switched to another fandom, and some fics have such good characterization that it happening in limbo would be fine with me, that kind of thing. I guess it's also fun to experiment with each pressure point and see which feelings and reactions from readers (and yourself!) you gain from each you love the most and how to combine each element in a portion that works out for you.

~

Check out their stories on ao3 and remember…

Comments and kudos feed the author’s soul.

[pokemoncreepypasta]

HM Slave

[STORY SOURCE]

The Generation I games. Definitely not perfect games by any means, but they were fun to play.

It's a shame my old cartridge’s battery has been long since dead. Makes sense, it was a hand-me-down from an older sibling of mine. Between both of our times playing it, it was bound to die sometime.

I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to play it again after so many years...

The trouble was, I had no intention of learning how to replace the battery, or buying a new cartridge. None of that appealed to me.

So, I just took it upon myself to play it without saving. Any time I wanted to stop, I’d just plug it into my charger, and leave it be.

Everything about this run was just for nostalgia. It was nothing personal to me, so I didn't name Red after myself or something.

I wanted to play through this game without getting attached to anything.

The best way to go through without caring? A starter-only run. I chose Charmander, since it was the cover ‘mon, and also my favorite of the three. Not necessarily because it would make the game easier in the long run.

Of course, there’s no way I’d be able to get through with just Charmander.

My plan was to catch a Pokémon specifically to use as an HM slave, so my Charizard wouldn’t be clogged up by useless moves in the long run.

And what better HM slave than the one who can learn them all, right?

In Generation I, you can’t delete moves in any way, so an HM slave was absolutely necessary.

Not like I hated Mew or anything... I just never performed the Mew glitch as a kid and thought that this would be a fun opportunity to try it.

The darned thing did everything within its power to not get caught, blowing through every single one of my PokéBalls that I’d prepared to catch it with. Hey, it wasn’t like I was going to need them later, so I didn’t complain.

I decided to nickname the little thing. I’d heard the term “HM mule” thrown around in place of HM slave, so I thought it would be funny.

Of course, picking the Fire type had its rocky start, with its disadvantage against the first two gym leaders.

I managed to scrape by with scummy tactics, though.

I’d switched to my Abra that I’d caught to perform the Mew glitch, and let Misty knock it out.

After that, I switched to Mewl for the free turn, and then healed my Charmeleon. Then, after Mewl fainted, I got a free switch into Charmeleon.

When the battle was over, I could proudly claim the Cascade Badge.

This was Mewl’s secondary purpose, to be switch fodder for me to heal my starter.

Things were going fine until Mewl learned Cut.

The first instance where Mewl’s “skills” would come into play.

This was a game where you couldn’t use HMs from the overworld, so I went to the menu to manually select it.

“MEWL ignored orders...”

Now, imagine my surprise when my slave wouldn’t listen to orders. I tried a few more times, with the same result.

I attempted to rationalize it, picking my brain for a reason. I assumed that you could not use HM moves while a Pokémon was fainted, but something about that didn’t seem right.

I healed at the Pokémon Center to be safe though.

That seemed to work, so I assumed that I was right and continued to Surge.

Nothing really unusual happened during the fight, but Mewl was knocked out again for a free heal.

On my way out, I had to cut down the tree blocking Surge’s gym again. I was worried for a moment that I had gotten myself stuck, but Mewl cut it down just fine.

I figured the game would let me use HM moves if I would be trapped otherwise.

I went back to the center to heal up my starter, and my stubborn little mule.

(And Abra too, I guess.)

I caught and released a few throwaway Pokémon to obtain Flash, which I immediately taught to Mewl.

I made my way to Rock Tunnel.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

I was frustratingly met with this. It was fully healed, I couldn't understand why it was disobeying. I wondered if it was some sort of consequence from having an illegitimate Mew...

I kept trying and trying, but no matter what, it wouldn’t light the cave.

I was sure this little bugger didn’t want to wander around in the dark just as much as me, so I really couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

I tried checking its summary, to which its blank, neutral expression had changed to something more... defiant?

I didn't know what kind of sick joke Morimoto was pulling on me by programming Mew to be this way, but I wasn’t having any of it.

It dawned on me that Abra could also learn Flash, so I just let Mewl be prissy and lit up the cave with Abra.

I somewhat regretted my choice to teach Mewl Flash. If I had known it was going to act like this, I would have just taught it Fly instead…

I decided to go ahead and skip getting Fly, since Charizard couldn't learn it anyway.

Thankfully, I made it out of Rock Tunnel just fine.

Charizard made Erika’s gym a total joke, so I didn’t even need Mewl as fodder for this fight.

The whole game was going fine so far up to Fuchsia City, and I had completely forgotten about Mewl’s disobedience by now.

I had obtained its final two moves, so I booted the HMs up and slapped them onto it.

Of course, to use Surf and progress, I had to face off against Koga.

Things were going well up until Charizard couldn’t deal with Koga’s last Pokémon.

I sent in Mewl to heal my Charizard.

”Enemy WEEZING used SLUDGE!”

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

Strangely, when Weezing attacked Mewl, it didn’t get knocked out in one hit like it was meant to. Instead, it stayed in the field.

While I wanted to question it at the time, I just used a Hyper Potion on my Charizard to get it back to full.

”Enemy WEEZING used SMOG!” 

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

 Sure enough, I wasn’t dreaming. Mewl was somehow surviving all of Koga’s attacks. Normally that would be pretty cool, except for the fact that Mewl was level 7 and therefore effectively worthless in this fight.

I had to wait for it to faint to switch to Charizard, but Mewl kept surviving every hit that was thrown at it.

”Enemy WEEZING used TOXIC!”

“MEWL”s hurt by poison!”

“MEWL fainted!”

Thankfully, it eventually became poisoned and went down, so I could send in Charizard to finish the job.

I made quick work of Koga and his Weezing after that and made my way out of the Gym.

But weirdly, as I was leaving, I couldn’t help but notice the screen flashing as if a Pokémon in my party was still poisoned.

I checked my party again to see what was up.

It seemed like Mew had a custom sprite for being knocked out that I never noticed before. I didn't even know if that was a thing.

But it was definitely knocked out, for sure, so I brushed it off as some sort of bug.

I figured if anything would fix the poison glitch, it’d be healing at the Pokémon Center.

”If you drive your POKéMON too hard, they’ll dislike you.”  

”Please take better care of your POKéMON.” 

 I was confused at this text. Was this dialogue hidden for players like me who let their Pokémon faint over and over? Whatever it is, I have never seen it before.

”We hope to see you again!” 

The nurse went back to her chipper disposition afterwards though, so I figured I should just be on my merry way as well.

I checked up on Mewl to see how it was doing now.

It seemed like the nurse just haphazardly patched it up. Mewl’s expression still looked tense, but I hoped that didn’t mean it wouldn’t use its new HM moves.

I made a quick note to take down Giovanni at Silph Co. and Sabrina. My Charizard was actually getting a bit over-leveled, so I swept through without needing to use Mewl to heal during battles at all.

I decided that on my way to Blaine, I would fall back on my training a bit.

I back-tracked over to Fuchsia City since it was faster than going all the way back to Pallet Town.

I made my way down by the Fuchsia coast and hoped quietly that Mewl would let me Surf to Cinnabar.

Thankfully it seemed like the 1’4 cat was perfectly fine with me riding on its back, with no defiance at all. I felt confident, like I was finally getting enough gym badges to make it obey.

I'd even gotten it to listen when I needed it to use Strength in the Seafoam Islands. Things were really looking up.

I’d finally hit land and was ready to storm the Cinnabar Mansion and claim Blaine’s badge.

I was feeling pretty confident with my Charizard’s HP and level that I wanted to take on the Gym without healing at the Pokémon Center.

I had plenty of Potions and Revives in case of emergency, anyway.

All of the quiz questions were normal, except... This bizarre one. 

“You treat all your POKéMON fairly?”

Though it had been several years since I played this game, something felt off about it, like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

I half-heartedly answered yes, despite knowing it was untrue. My logic was, at the very least, that even though I as a player didn’t care about these Pokémon, maybe Red did.

”Sorry! Bad call!”

The buzzer went off and I was harassed by a trainer. I was appalled... Was the game really criticizing me as a player?

Had I hit some sort of secret flag after making Mewl faint so much? I couldn't understand what was happening.

I didn’t give myself much time to think about it though, so I healed up my Charizard with some Potions and took on Blaine.

Charizard had fainted again, so I left it up to Mewl.

I healed up my Charizard and expected Mewl to hang on like before, but it just went down with no resistance.

With my seventh gym badge in hand, I was pretty happy with my run so far. A couple more hours in and I’d be done, I thought.

I was ready to Surf north towards Pallet Town and claim my eighth and final badge.

“MEWL ignored orders!”

But I received a friendly reminder.

I had forgotten that Mewl didn’t like using HMs without being healed. I really didn’t feel like taking it to the Pokémon Center though, so I just carelessly threw a Revive at it.

Hoping that the Revive would be good enough to satisfy it and let me ride on it again, I mashed through text a few times to see if I could brute-force it to listen.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

”MEWL turned away!”

It kept bombarding me with the same defiant messages over and over, until...

“MEWL hates you.”

I was caught off-guard. This text didn’t have the same energy as the others, lacking an exclamation point. It sounded like flat, cold, genuine hatred.

I pressed A again, and attempted to order another Surf. Not necessarily because I wanted it to Surf now, but more out of a morbid fascination with such intense text.

“MEWL used instead, FLASH!”

Suddenly, like in a battle, the screen lit up totally white.

I was booted out of the party screen afterwards, and immediately noticed a distinct lack of an items menu. Had Mewl taken it from me?

Closing out of the menu, I spoke to the Pokémon now standing next to me, knowing exactly who it was supposed to be.

”Mew!”

Mew’s cry played. I already knew it.

“MEWL hacked away with CUT!”

I flinched, horrified at the thought of Mewl directly attacking my trainer.

”HM01 was destroyed!”

But then I realized, it wasn't that...

”HM03 was destroyed!” 

 Instead, Mewl had stolen my items...

”HM04 was destroyed!” 

 … And was proceeding to destroy each of my HMs, one by one.

”HM05 was destroyed!” 

 After destroying HM05, Mewl’s sprite disappeared; presumably back into its PokéBall.

I was exasperated, but quick on my wits.

I still had Fuchsia City's Pokémon Center as my last saved location, meaning I could use Abra to Teleport back to the mainland.

I was smug, thinking I'd found a loophole around Mewl's attempts to sabotage me.

”ABRA used TELEPORT!”

“ABRA ran away!”

I panicked, to say the least. I frantically scrolled around my party page. How could Abra have disappeared like that? I wasn't going to accept Mewl being my only ride back to Pallet, it was impossible.

I desperately went to the PC inside the Pokémon Center, in some vain hope that maybe Abra had just been sent there somehow.

”MEWL used STRENGTH.”

“The PC was destroyed!”

I couldn't believe it.

Mewl had gone full rogue.

I suddenly had to come to grips with the horrifying realization...

I was trapped in Cinnabar with no way off.

I went through what I can only describe as the five stages of grief.

Stage 1 - Denial

I scoured the internet for any other Pokémon in Cinnabar Mansion that I could use to escape the island.

I quickly remembered that Mewl had already destroyed my HMs and stolen my items, and realized I couldn’t catch anything.

But I did have one more plan.

If I could knock out Charizard and Mewl, I could be sent back to Fuchsia. It would take a bit of work for Charizard to eventually faint, but I was prepared to try anything.

”CHARIZARD ran away!”

But I couldn’t be prepared for my Charizard running away.

I was so shocked that I didn’t even want to send in Mewl, I just said no and fled the battle.

I fell into absolute despair. Mewl had not only ruined my chance of getting off the island, but now, even if I did, what would I do without the only Pokémon I’d been raising?

Stage 2 - Anger

I’d never thought malicious thoughts about this Mew before, just casual indifference and sometimes mild frustration. But I can’t say that I didn’t want some payback towards this Mew for wasting several perfectly good hours of my life.

I sadistically thought about how I would make it faint, and then how I would torture it over, and over, making it repeatedly faint until maybe it would measure up to Charizard’s strength.

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!” 

I couldn't stop myself from shouting "NO."

Despite Mewl’s apparent injuries, it hung on with one HP.

Again, and again, no matter what I did. No matter what Pokémon I faced.

It seemed like nothing could poison it, burn it, kill it.

Then, it dawned on me…

Maybe this was what Mewl wanted all along?

Stage 3 - Bargaining

Mewl’s stubbornness and special ability that made it unable to faint...

It took Mewl a long time to faint its first real opponent, due to its low level, but in the end, it grew.

I checked Mewl’s summary for some sort of sign, anything at all, that this was what I was supposed to be doing. It stared at me with its vacant, unreadable expression...

Perhaps it was shocked I had battled with it? Whatever the case, it wasn’t staring at me with hostility anymore...

So it was silently agreed between us, then. Mewl and I, we did our first ever grinding session.

It took a few hours, but Mewl’s level was growing steadily. Things seemed to be going well, until...

We ran into our first wild Ditto.

I thought it was strange, having not found a Ditto for all this time I'd spent in Cinnabar Mansion, but I didn’t see any trouble with fighting it, so I just let the battle progress.

Stage 4 - Depression

The Ditto transformed into Mewl, who appeared to have a sad expression on its face.

I quickly pulled out of the battle screen and into my party to see if something had changed with Mewl.

I checked to see Mewl, who had that same sad expression as the Ditto. Its status had changed from "OK" to a worrying "...".

I knew something was wrong, so I fled from that battle and every battle afterwards.

Though I had avoided it before on hopes of somehow escaping to Fuchsia City, I gave it all up to heal Mewl, who had risked life and limb to impress me.

After it was healed, I checked its summary again.

Though it had fully healed, it still had that depressed look in its eyes. I couldn’t understand want it wanted. I didn’t know what it needed.

But I realized that it was getting pretty late, and I wanted to get to sleep soon. I would have to leave the game on, and leave Mewl behind.

That was when it hit me.

Could it be possible that Mewl knew I hadn’t saved? Did Mewl somehow understand that no matter if I saved or didn’t save, it would disappear when I turned the game off?

I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but Mewl was more special than any other Pokémon I’d ever played with.

And if I turned the game off, it would disappear forever.

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I went out of the Pokémon Center to reflect about this with Mewl.

I still wanted to finish the adventure with it, if it would let me.

Stage 5 - Acceptance

“MEWL doesn’t want to go.”

That was okay, I thought.

I realized that even if I went with Mewl to the Pokémon League, and won, then the game would return to the title screen and not save my progress.

Maybe Mewl understood that, too.

So then we were at an impasse, together on Cinnabar Island.

I didn’t know what to do. Even if this Mew was special, even if I genuinely believed it was real, I couldn’t just keep my GameBoy on forever. What would anyone else think?

I decided that for the first time in this entire run, I wanted to save my game. I didn't want to turn it off just yet, but at least save, as some sort of precautionary measure.

I hoped, that in the event the GameBoy turned off for whatever reason, a miracle would occur.

”Would you like to SAVE your MEW?”

It seemed that the game knew exactly what my heart wanted, and I selected yes.

Then, all of a sudden, my game turned off. Not due to low battery or anything, but it just turned off.

I panicked for a moment, and quickly switched the game back on.

It was gone. The save file was gone.

Or, rather, it was never there to begin with.

[pair-annoyed]

Anime I Watched This Fall

My first semester of college is officially over and the December holidays are upon us! I hoped to make one of these posts sooner, but I have been incredibly busy with schoolwork. Now that things have slowed down, let’s take sometime to reflect on things I’ve watched. 

These anime are listed in chronological order and encompass everything I’ve watched from 9/1/2020 - 12/15/2020

Like always, they will be rated on a 1-10 scale; 1 meaning complete garbage, 10 meaning masterpiece. I will offer my thoughts on what I did/didn’t like about each show!

1. The God of High School - 6/10 

Despite the stellar animation from MAPPA and my high expectations, I was really disappointed by how this series was treated. Most of the story’s crucial elements were handled poorly. I finished this series feeling more confused about the plot than when I first began. The power system is really cool, but poorly explained. More time should have been spent on exposition and world building for this series, instead the fights were given the most screen time. 

2.  Doukyuusei - 7/10 

I really liked the style of Doukyuusei. Granted, this was another movie I chose to watch primarily because of the hype surrounding it. The dynamic between Kusakabe and Sajou is an interesting one, and I also enjoy how the movies different acts were separated by the seasons. However, there's nothing that really sets Doukyuusei apart from other romance movies, its a little generic. Still, I enjoyed it nonetheless. 

3.  Re:Zero kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu 2nd Season - 8/10 

My opinions on Re:Zero’s second season are biased. This was, by far, the sequel I was most hyped for during the summer/fall anime season. I was so happy to see the story’s continuation and I’m looking forward to the season’s second part coming sometime in January. Re:Zero is one of my all time favorite series because of the way it handles it characters and power dynamics. I also really enjoy the show’s psychological aspects. If you haven’t already, give Re:Zero a try! 

4. Saint☆Oniisan (Movie + OVA) - 8/10

This was a wonderful comedy. I wasn’t sure how the subject of Jesus and Buddha living together would be tackled, but it was handled wonderfully. I was laughing for pretty much the entire movie. I love the art style and little references to both Buddhism and Christianity, plus the incorporation of Japanese culture. Saint Oniisan is a bright comedy, with two eccentric main characters. If you like a show that doesn’t take itself too seriously, and need a good laugh, I can’t recommend this more.

5. Clannad: After Story - 10/10 

Never, while watching anime, did I cry as much as I did while watching Clannad: After Story. I didn’t realize how much I related to Okazaki until I saw him grow up in After Story. I was left sobbing, especially after episode 18. I still, to this day, cannot listen to the Dango song without tearing up. The original Clannad is nothing special, but the continuation of its story its something heartfelt, emotional, and down-to-earth. I love Kyoto Animation with all my heart, and Clannad made me appreciate everything the studio has done just a little bit more. Thank you Clannad, for reminding me about the kind of person I strive to be. 

6. Nakitai Watashi wa Neko wo Kaburu - 5.5/10

The art in A Whisker Away was beautiful. The story itself, however, is nothing too enjoyable. I found it difficult to like our protagonist or her love interest. Nothing about this movie is inherently memorable. The emotional climax came far too early which made the second half of the film seem long and drawn out.  All in all, the movie has a wonderful concept, I just believe it could have been so much more emotional than it was. When I watch a move, I like to empathize with the characters. It’s difficult to do when the characters aren’t given the proper exposition to be empathized with. 

7.  Shikioriori - 6/10

This is less of a movie and more of a collection of short stories. Flavors of Youth is something you shouldn’t watch on an empty stomach, all of the food looks incredible. The same cannot beside for the rest of this feature. The stories themselves seems heavily clichéd. Much like A Whisker Away, the initial premise is intriguing, but the execution results in something that comes across as trying too hard and carries no emotional weight with the viewer. If you plan on watching, pay more attention to the artwork and animation than the actual plot. You won’t be missing anything. 

8. Vinland Saga - 7/10

Vinland Saga helped me get out of the rut that Clannad: After Story. Not only does this show have a great story, its action packed with lots of interesting fights. I especially enjoyed all the Nordic history embedded within the show. Its really unlike any of the other historical anime I’ve watched. I will say, it’s gory. But, compared to all the other things I watched this time around, I finished this series the quickest. Its good, its graphic, its fast paced! 

9.  Mononoke Hime - 7/10

It’s ironic considering how much anime I’ve watched that I have yet to watch all of the most classic Studio Ghibli films. Princess Mononoke is grittier than most other Ghibli films I’ve seen, but it’s message is positive and its characters are wonderful. I can’t really speak ill towards classics like these. I guess maybe my one complaint is that this movie could’ve been a faster pace. Other than that... I really enjoyed everything Princess Mononoke offered! I understand why it’s so popular.  

10. Howl no Ugoku Shiro - 8.5/10 

Can you believe it took me this long to finally watch Howl’s Moving Castle? Me neither!! This movie is so endearingly beautiful. I loved every second of it, from the characters to the soundtrack. So many iconic things come from just this one movie. I would like to take this time to thank my best friend for reminding me that Studio Ghibli films are wonderful! Thank you for watching this with me, I loved it! All in all, I regret not watching this sooner! 

11. Toradora! - 6.5/10 

Toradora took me a while to finish, just because I lost interest about halfway through. But, I powered through it, and ended up really enjoying the show! I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but that’s just a personal preference. Somehow, this show also made me cry? I’m not entirely sure why because Toradora! is probably the thing farthest from sad. Apart from the show’s dull slice of life moments, it was super cute! A much needed light-hearted romance. 

12. New Initial D Movie: Legend 1 - 5/10 

Full disclosure, this is the only thing related to Initial D that I’ve ever watched. My band and I watched this expecting to hear some of that iconic Initial D music, itself all we got was a mildly confusing story about different types of cars. It was cliché and frankly a little boring. Although, I am still considering watching the original Initial D just so I can hear the music in the way it was original intended. I’ve got no other opinions on this movie. It’s best not to watch these movies without the context from the rest of the franchise.  

13.  Uchuu Patrol Luluco - 7.5/10

I didn’t really understand why people enjoy studio Trigger so much until I watched Space Patrol Luluco. I loved all the fun references to other studio Trigger works. I loved the humor, and I loved all the bright colors. The animation was extremely high energy, and the art style fits the show’s premise. Each episode was only 12 minutes long so it was a super quick binge. If you’re looking for something quick, light-hearted and comical, this is the perfect show to watch.

14. Orange - 7/10 

I owe a big thanks to a tumblr mutual for recommending this show to me! This holds the honor of making me cry by episode 3! I honestly did not expect the subject matter of this show to be as dark as it was. Usually when I see the genre ‘shoujo’ I do not associate it with a love story like that of Orange. The heavy subject matter made it a little too close to home for me, but I still really enjoyed this series. It reminds me off all the good times I had with my friends in high school, and of all the regrets I carry with myself to this day. 

15. 3-gatsu no Lion - 7.5/10 

March Comes in Like a Lion is another show that was a bit of a slow burn for me. Each episode left me feeling emotionally drained, so I had to take a lot of breaks while I was working on watching this series. Shaft, the studio behind this anime, holds a special place in my heart because I loved their work on the Monogatari Series. March Comes in Like a Lion is a little different. It’s driving force it is characters, and it was cathartic to watch our main character transform through the entire duration of the first season. I know the show’s second season is much better, so I’ll be starting that soon! 

16. Yojouhan Shinwa Taikei - 8/10 

I loved how artsy and smart The Tatami Galaxy is, but honestly I couldn’t watch too much at once cause it would hurt my head. I also couldn’t watch this show while I was tired because the speaking rate is much faster than typical anime. The Tatami Galaxy is so unique for its medium. I loved the different time loops and the crazy animation. The characters were fascinating. The dialogue, although very fast, it also fantastic. There’s an element of humor to this unique story telling, and I enjoyed ever minute of it! 

Currently Watching:

Hunter x Hunter - 6.5/10 (As of Episode 30)

I pride myself in having watched a lot of shounen anime, but I was reluctant to start Hunter x Hunter for years because I thought I would find it boring. I was oh so very wrong. Considering great shows like Naruto and Fairy Tail that fall under the same category, I expected Hunter x Hunter to be subpar in comparison. It gets a low score for two reasons. One, the power system was introduced a little too late and now I’m wondering if all the fights post episode 30 will involved nen in some way, shape, or form. Two, its still on hiatus. 

Two Cursed Additions For This List

Please to do not let these be representative of my anime taste. 

1.  Yarichin☆B*tch-bu - 4/10

I am a CLOWN for not knowing this was 18+. The only reason I watched this was to see why everyone was talking about the pink-haired boy with the glasses and tongue piecing. I know why now, and I regret it. This was a massive mistake on my part. But hey, at the least the art and ending song kinda slap? 

2. Euphoria (Dropped After 1 Episode) - 2/10

If you know what I’m talking about when I say Euphoria, I am so sorry. And no, I am not talking about the HBO series. Seriously, don’t google this. Don’t watch this. Don’t interact with anything related to this. You’re probably wondering, “Then why did you watch it?” I did not watch this willingly. You see, I have a very bad habit of starting anime and then taking months to finish them. I made an ultimatum with a friend, lost, and then was forced to watch this a punishment. Not a fun experience. I’m very glad there are no GIFs of this on tumblr...

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Rachel Nobel / Rae Lynn

Rachel Nobel, aka Rae Lynn, has 2 fics at Gossamer, but she’s written many more X-Files stories than that. You can also find fics by her at AO3 and various other archives. She’s one of the rare, special authors who’s posted numerous fic during the show’s original run and again in recent years. Big thanks to Rachel for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)? Absolutely. I joined a Facebook group for fanfic writers where someone recognized my name and asked about some of my stories that have disappeared from the Internet, and I almost fell off my chair. On the other hand, I go back and read original-run fanfic all the time - the Wayback Machine is my best friend for all the late great fanfic archives. Like fine wines, they get better with age! What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it? I was fairly young during the peak of the fandom - I was only 12 when I started watching the show and discovered the fandom online. A few years ago, right around the time we learned the revival was coming, I wrote an essay I called "How 'The X-Files' defined my adolescence," in which I wrote: "If you think about it, 'The X-Files' is a lot like adolescence: You start out thinking it's going to be a little hokey, NBD, and then you end up in its thrall, captivated and occasionally hugely let down. A lot of people behave strangely, and no one gets out unscathed. Mulder, in his own weird way, is the perfect mirror for an adolescent: He doesn't fit in; his life careens between being utterly consequential to the fate of the known universe and being completely pointless; he's socially awkward and can't quite nail it down with the girl of his dreams."

So for me, the fandom is inextricably bound up with adolescence, that feeling of vacillating between desperate loneliness and being on the verge of something enormously significant. Take romance: I was a bit of a late bloomer, and when all my friends were exploring their first relationships I was watching Mulder and Scully navigate this beautiful, complicated, soulful relationship without ever even kissing. That was deeply affecting for me as a teen.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)? I started out on mailing lists - there was an EMXC mailing list and one that I think was called X-Angst. [Lilydale note: There was a mailing list called XAngst Anonymous.] This was back at the dawn of the Internet when I only had 10 hours of AOL access a month, and I remember using what AOL called a "FlashSession" to log on, download all the fanfic from the mailing list and log off to read it. I vividly remember the excitement of watching all that new fanfic flood my inbox! Later on I was on atxc. During the long summer between "Gethsemane" and "Redux," it felt like fanfic was at its peak. There was a group of about a dozen women who got together (virtually) to discuss a work in progress by Lydia Bower called "Primal Sympathy." We called ourselves the "Primal Screamers," and we had our own website with fanfic recommendations and other discussions (it cracked me up to locate us as an entry on Fanlore.org). I was still in high school at the time and I was the youngest member; I felt like I had been accepted into a cool underground club. I worshipped these women, who were fanfic writers themselves. They taught me everything I knew about how to be a decent, respectful, enthusiastic consumer and writer of fanfic and fandom. [Lilydale note: I’ve talked enthusiastically about the Primal Screamers here before, including their fanfic primer.] What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general? In the '90s, I would have been embarrassed to tell anyone I read fanfic, let alone that I was writing it. Now, I look back on it and realize how talented and smart and passionate we all were. It's something to be proud of. What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show? The first episode I ever saw was "Shadows," which was on in reruns between the second and third seasons. I don't think "Shadows" is an episode that anyone today would consider thematically significant, but something about seeing those office supplies float spookily through the air - it wasn't like anything I had seen on television, and I wanted in. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic? I've always been a person who, when I am interested in something, seeks to learn more about it. So I guess I got online as a 12-year-old with this new interest and discovered fanfic. It was thrilling to find out that so many talented people were taking characters I loved and bringing them to life for me. When the screen faded to black each week and I wondered, "That's it? What next?", fanfic was always there to fill in the blanks and take Mulder and Scully to the next level. As a teenager, I was self-indulgent enough to think I had something to contribute, too. Most of what I wrote in the '90s would today make me cringe. I remember literally paging through the dictionary in search of erudite words I thought Mulder and Scully would say! But occasionally I'll feel brave enough to read an old story and I feel encouraged to see a spark: a turn of phrase or a fragment of dialogue that I still feel proud of. I write professionally now, but I've never written fiction that isn't X-Files fiction, so it's something that has really allowed me to hone my creative juices in a different way. What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? Sometimes I feel like the Statler and Waldorf of the fandom, like I'm sitting up in the balcony grousing "Back in my day...!" Because the fandom is remarkably robust, and I've gotten involved with it to an extent on Twitter and AO3, and now all these young whippersnappers idolize Mulder and Scully just as much if not more as I ever did! Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files? Not really, no. I've of course consumed a lot of media since The X-Files that I wanted to discuss with others - I'm a huge "Harry Potter" nerd, and I was outraged when Netflix canceled "The OA" - but strangely I've never had the urge to read or write fanfic about anything other than "The X-Files." Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? Every Thursday night! I watch a chosen episode with a group of fans on Twitter and tweet about it - #tbtXFiles. That's great fun. There are episodes I've seen dozens of times over the years and episodes I think I only ever watched once, and it's always enlightening to watch them again with a certain critical eye. When I was a fan during the original run, I really idolized Mulder; I loved episodes where we saw him in all his cracked genius glory. Scully was a trailblazer of a character, of course, but I think the fandom has evolved over the years to give Scully her due. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I was fairly stunned when the revival came around and I realized that people were still writing X-Files fic, and that a lot of it was so good. So yes, I do read fic on Archive of Our Own. But my heart is always with the early days of fanfic. In the revival when Mulder says "I've always wondered how this was going to end" - that felt to me almost like a love letter to fanfic authors who had been trying to answer that question for 25 years. Surprisingly, I've never had the urge to read fic in another fandom. Every time I try, it just feels like I'm cheating on Mulder and Scully. Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors? My favorite author back in the day was Kipler. Her stories were just like real episodes of the show I could vividly imagine in my mind. I adore syntax6, particularly "20" and "The Birthday Stories," because of the way she perfectly and poignantly captures vignettes that span the entire series. Another favorite is Dawn and her "Blood Ties" series - I started out as a "NoRomo," and Dawn was one of the authors who made me believe Mulder and Scully could have a romantic relationship that really worked. And I always had a soft spot for Profiler!Mulder stories, so to this day I mourn the unfinished state of the great Kronos fic "Ascent to Hell." One fic I always come back to that captures profiling Mulder really well is "Domination of Lies," by cslatton. And then there are stories that I consider classics: "Corpse" by Livengoo, "Oklahoma" by Amperage and Livengoo, the "Revelations" and "All Hallow's Eve" series by Windsinger. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise? I have a soft spot for a story I wrote called "Human Credential." I was attempting, a quarter-century after the first season of the show, to set a story in the very early days of the partnership (which these days is one of my favorite kinds of fanfic to read), and I felt like I nailed it. Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online? I have been doing both of these, as a matter of fact! Or in my case, they are oldies that made it online but vanished when Geocities went belly-up, for example, that I sometimes go back to and reshape. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work? As the swallows return to Capistrano, I seem to always return to writing fic at periods of transition in my life. The first time I "retired" from fanfic, I wasn't even in college yet! If one can be nostalgic at 21 years old for something one gave up at 17, I was nostalgic for fanfic, and I picked it back up again in grad school. Then I became a teacher and a wife and a mom and years passed, and the revival seduced me back into it again. But the vast majority of fanfic I've written is firmly planted in the first seven seasons of the show - poor Mulder and Scully never seem to get to grow up in my stories. What's the story behind your pen name? I wrote under a lot of pen names over the years! When I first started writing fanfic, no one knew anything about Internet safety and it didn't occur to me that it wasn't wise to use my real name. There was a period when I would have been mortified if anyone discovered my stories under my real name - now, at least I can write it off as a youthful indulgence! When I finally grew into a more mature writer, I started using the name Rae Lynn, which is almost-but-not-quite my real first and middle names. Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions? As far as I know, unless my friends and acquaintances have done some sleuthing, only my husband knows I still write fanfic. And he's never read it, though he's kind enough to give me a glazed-eyes indulgent smile if I ever talk about it. Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now? I am xraelynn on AO3! I have about a dozen stories there - some of them I wrote 15 years ago and some of them are brand spanking new. Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Fanfic is a true labor of love. Fanfic authors don't write fanfic for money or fame; they do it because they love it. Sites like AO3 and Tumblr have made it so much easier to show your appreciation to writers (::gruff reminiscing voice:: back in my day, you had to send them an email, and now you can just click the "kudos" button!). I can only speak for myself, but I really thrive on that feedback - otherwise I'm just Mulder in his cramped hovel of a home office waiting for Scully to nag me to shave my beard. Every so often I think about the fact that there is so much high-quality writing about these characters I've loved for decades just available on the Internet for free and it feels like a true gift.

(Posted by Lilydale on May 4, 2021)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: Moving Day

Summary- 3.1k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.   Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Not many that I can see. Mentions of murder and spooks. 

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

Chapter 1 / Masterlist 

The day the family moves in, you couldn't have been more excited to be moving into your dream home. The home you and Andy would be raising the family in. The movers were quick under your and Andy’s directions of where to put boxes and furniture. Jacob managed to keep Cassidy and John occupied by exploring the yard and along the lakes edge until most of the chaos ended. 

Andy and you called them in once the movers left. When all three came back in, you took them on a tour of the house, going through the downstairs and then going on upstairs to show each one the bedrooms you and Andy had chosen. Andy took the boys to their rooms, dropping John off in his to check out, and then Andy opened a nearby door to Jacob's room. Jacob walked in, looking around. “Yup, looks like a bedroom.” he commented, sounding just like Andy in that moment. Andy stepped in, remarking at him. 

“Smartass... do you like it? Y/N thought this one would be better for you. It's a bit away from the kids, give you a bit more privacy you didn't have at the other house.” 

Jacob gave a smile to his father while nodding. “It's great dad, seriously.” he assured him, and Andy nodded. 

“Well I will leave you to unpack then.” 

In Cassidy’s room, she was excited over the unique windows facing the front, and she ran to the first one looking out over the driveway and the rest of the neighborhood. “Wow, I can see everything.” She started waving at people passing by on the street. 

“You really like it Sweetheart?” You asked, having picked this room just for her cause of the pink flowered wallpaper, and there was a small vanity already built into the wall. She nodded and giggled at the window. 

“Yes mommy, I do.” She went back to looking at the window, and you pulled open a box to start taking care of clothes when she started speaking again. “Hi, hello… what's your name?” She tilted her head with a nod and another giggle. “I’m Cassidy, see you later!” You had been working on putting clothes in the dresser from boxers when you heard her odd words. 

“Who are you talking to Baby?” You go over behind her and she looks up at you. 

“They said a friend, but they had to go.” She shrugged like it was no big deal and went to go open more boxes to help you unpack. You peek outside curiously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary when Andy saying your name turned you around. 

“Hmm, what?” 

“I said the boys both approve of the rooms you chose for them, and are currently putting their rooms together. I'm gonna go build our bed and then come take care of Cassidy’s.” 

Agreeing that was a good idea, the rest of the day was getting the basics together. By the time dinner rolled around, Andy had insisted on ordering a few pizzas and you agreed tiredly. Andy eased a hand over your shoulder and to the back of your neck, massaging gently while you let your head fall forward, breathing in deeply. “How about you take a shower? I will get dinner handled. By the time you come back down, it should be already.” 

“You really don't mind Andy?” You ask, and he gives a shake of the head, kissing your forehead he eased you towards the stairs. 

“Baby, I insist.” He winked at you, and you gave a nod while heading up the stairs. The allure of a hot shower and getting into your ultimate comfort clothes you already pulled out and were on the bed just sounded like the best thing you've ever heard. 

Grabbing your towels and a washcloth from a box, you wandered into the master bathroom. This was the first time you’ve had a bathroom all for just the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel like this was truly living. Soon the hot water was going, and you were stepping into the shower, humming happily to yourself. 

Downstairs Andy had made the call for a few pizzas after googling for a local restaurant. He went to check on John and Cassidy to find that they had found a board game and were making up their own version. Jacob, he could hear music playing up in his room. You were in the shower and he would be taking one soon as everyone was fed and the little ones put in bed. All in all a good day he thought. Going back to the kitchen, he searched out for plates, and took care of a few more dishes. It wasn't long till the doorbell rang. “Coming.” Andy called out while checking to be sure he had his wallet on him for a tip to whomever was delivering that night. 

He opened the door to find a teenager warily standing on the bottom step, looking up at the house. Jumping a bit when he heard Andy open the door, he went up the stairs and held the boxes out. “Been a while since anyone has came out here.” 

Andy took the pizzas and set them just inside the door on a small table and then dug out his wallet to pull out a tip. “Oh yea, is that so?” Not really giving the kid’s words much thought, but he ended up continuing regardless of Andy’s uninterested tone. 

“Yea, last time anyone came out was before that night.” He took the tip, and pocketed it. “You know about the night, right?” 

Andy shuffled a bit, wanting to close the door. “Yes, we were made aware before we moved in.” 

The teenager just continued. “Yup, all five of them were in their beds. I knew Ronnie, he was a lot older than me, but he was cool. Can't believe he took a rifle and just shot them all. Guess you just never know what people are capable of.” 

Now Andy was done, and snapped out. “No I guess not. Bye.” Stepping back, he let the door shut firmly and flipped the lock, gathering the pizzas to take to the kitchen. What the kid said unsettled him. But he shook it off before addressing John and Cassidy. “Are you hungry, Kids?” 

A thud of feet sent Cassidy and John racing into the kitchen, and Andy simply sent a message from his phone to Jacob upstairs, knowing it would be faster than going up to knock on his door. Grabbing plates, Andy looked at the two littlest ones. 

“Okay kids, I got… anchovy and extra anchovy. What do you want.” He grinned innocently at them, and they both made funny faces at him in disgust. 

“Cheese?” John asked hopefully. Andy popped open the top, and showed off a cheese pizza. Peeling off a slice and plating it, Cassidy reached for the plate. 

“Andy, can you add an extra slice for Jody? They say they want a piece.” Cassidy hummed and Andy indulged her, putting on a second slice. 

“Who’s Jody Kiddo?” Andy questioned as he also handed over paper towels for napkins. 

“My friend. But you can't see them. They don’t like grownups although I told them you were nice.” She said as if it was everyday and John rolled his eyes at her 

“You're so weird Cass, Jody isn't real.”  John snickered as he reached for a piece and bit off the end while Andy handed a plate over to him to use.

“Is to! Jody says boys like you are mean.” Cassidy cried out and then the siblings stuck their tongues out at each other and Andy was quick to jump in. 

 “Hey hey hey, John don't pick on your sister. Cass, Please just tell Jody not to make a mess.”

Jacob came in the room, following his nose to the scent of pizza. “Who’s Jody?” 

Andy moved aside the cheese to the pizza with toppings underneath he knew Jacob would prefer. “Jody is Cass’s friend.” Cassidy took a bite of her pizza and gave Jacob a nod, and the teenager nodded in understanding. Picking out a slice of pepperoni. “Ya know, I had a friend like that.” 

“You did?” John asked, suddenly on board with the imaginary friends cause Jacob seemed okay with it. Andy went to find a couple wine glasses while listening to Jacob recall the story of his imaginary friend Stan the Man. Andy had to smile at the memory of Jacob and Stan the Man, his son had insisted he was taller then the house but could shrink down to his size in order to play. Laurie had been a bit concerned about how often Jacob had talked about him, but Andy wasn’t. Pulling out a bottle of wine, he opened it up and checked the time, figuring you would be down pretty soon.

Upstairs you were finishing your shower, your head tilted back into the spray and fingers scrubbing out your conditioner when you happened to look towards the showers curtain and saw what looked like Andy standing there. “Andy? You trying to sneak in with me for a few minutes?” You rubbed the water from your face, expecting to hear an answer. 

“Andy?” You looked again and the shape moved like they were about to get in, but there still isn't an answer. 

“Are the kids okay? Andy?” you frowned and went to move the curtain, to open it and when you looked around it, there was nothing. No one was standing there, the door was still shut, and you could feel your heart race a bit. You suddenly didn't want to be there anymore when your chest tightened in discomfort, you knew you saw someone on the other side of the curtain, and was sure of it. A chill ran up your spine and you hurriedly rushed to turn the water off and get out. Drying off, you hurried off into the bedroom, completely missing the whisper of your name as well as a figure moving out of the fogged up mirror, leaving behind the word ‘Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em’ streaked through the condensation. 

Dressing, you made your way downstairs to see everyone Andy and Jacob laughing about something while picking at toppings of their pizza slices to pop in their mouth,  the kids sitting at the table, legs swinging as they peeled off bits of cheese. You approached to peek in the box, grabbing a piece of pepperoni, and Andy hugged you from behind, his beard tickling your neck as he hummed against your ear. 

“Feel better Mrs.Barber?” 

“I will feel better if there is a glass of wine with my name on it.” You chuckled and he was quick to hand you one. Sipping from it, you set it aside and turned in his arms, cupping his face in your hands. “Now I’m much better, thank you.” Tilting up you gave him an affectionate kiss, John and Cassidy making eww noises and Andy chuckled against your lips at them. 

“Man, we're trying to eat. Take it to your room.” Jacob joked from the other side of the counter, and Andy gave a smug look at his son. “We probably will later.” Jacobs scowl had you covering your mouth in a laugh and you finally reached for a slice of pizza, nipping at the tip.  

Dinner was eaten, and after Jacob goes to his room, and the kids are in bed all tucked in, you go to the bedroom with wine glass in hand, Andy is stretched out on the bed to relax for the first time that day. You set your wine glass aside on the dresser, and go to work on hanging Andy’s suits in the closet before going to lay down, unsettled a bit as you look towards the bathroom. 

“Andy, you didn’t happen to come into the bathroom when I was in there, did you?” 

He looked up from his phone with a curious furrow to his brow. “No, I was downstairs with the kids the whole time. Why?” 

You shrug as you hang another suit up, coming out of the closet and picking up another. “I just thought I saw someone in the bathroom, and when I opened the curtain, nothing. I think I'm just over tired.” you admitted, and he opens his mouth to say something when your phone rings. You turn away to go back in the closet, and Andy stretches out to grab it off your side of the night stand. He doesn't bother to see who it is, but swipes his thumb across the answer button while keeping an eye on you. 

“Barber residence?” 

You are humming while fixing the suits so they don't wrinkle. 

“Of course, here she is.” He lowered the phone and “Y/N, it's your mom.” 

You brighten when you hear who it is, and flick off the light to the closet. You swear you hear a muffled growl behind you, and turn towards the sound with a frown when Andy gets your attention once more. “You have to tell her to stop gushing over me baby.” He winks teasing as he rolls up off the bed, and you scoff at him with a smack to his chest while taking the phone. Tumbling on the bed and getting comfy, you raise the phone to your ear. “Hey mom! Yes, we're all settled, kids are in bed, but you call tomorrow, you can skype with them. They would love to see you.” 

Andy feels a chill up his neck and he rubs at his arms, lowering to settle his hand over the heating grate. It feels like a heavy draft coming through and he glances up at you, mouthing. “You feel chilly babe?” 

You shake your head in a no while still listening to your mother. “Oh mom, you will love it. Plenty of room for you to come stay as well. Maybe at Christmas time? We have the most perfect family room for a good big family Christmas.” 

Andy heads out of the room while you're on the phone, sure the heater in the basement isn't turned on even though he knew that he had someone come in before to turn all of it on to get ready for them. Quick to go down to the first floor, he went into the kitchen and flicked on the basement light. 

The lights flickered several times like they were about to go out. Once it became steady, he went down the creaking stairs and rubbed his hand against his arms looking around the dimly lit basement. Basements always felt awkward. He knew there wouldn't be anything to be necessarily scared of, but they always seemed hidden away from sight, where secrets of the house might be kept. Even now when peering into the dark corners of the interior, he shivered in distrust of the shadows. 

Andy it's just a basement. He would scold himself as he crossed the icy cement floor, and tried to ignore what he thought was his imagination. 

A shadow shifted, darker than the shadows of normal for an old house. It stalked along behind the man. Andy went over to the heating system, a state of the art boiler system that was almost brand new, having been installed when the previous owners updated the house. 

Now Andy wasn't any expert in heaters, so when he squatted down, he looked along the switches, that all appeared to be in the on position, which he flicked anyways. He also leaned down to see the pilot light was still on, which it flickered reassuringly when he peeked. 

He leaned back up with a frown, and while he was sitting there on the cold basement floor, a bone chilling coldness stabbed him in the back, paralyzing his spine, and the hair on Andy's body bristled as he heard something shuffle behind him. His chest ached in a panic that made breathing  almost impossible. A dread settled on him, sunk from his shoulders and down through his body. 

This must be what a condemned man must feel like. 

His eyes squeezed shut and he fought to turn around. He had to turn around, see what was coming for him. Andy felt it come closer, the air around him freezing cold that he felt it burn with each breath that he inhaled and released. Could feel something hover near the back of his neck, like it was just about to reach out and snatch his life. Rational thought had gone into hiding, now was just the sudden fear for his soul, and he whipped around suddenly when he broke from it to see nothing. 

Absolutely nothing was behind him. 

Cursing as he gasped in relief, the memory of impending death turning into fear and scolding himself for being afraid of nothing, he pulled himself up off the floor to a stand. Andy’s heart was still racing as if it was going to crash out of his chest cavity, but he ignored it while he slammed the panel shut, and looked to see one of the heating ducts. Pressing his hand against it, a sudden hum came and a rush of warm air breezed against his palm. 

“Fucking finally” He growled, and started to make his way back upstairs, what Andy missed was the hissing from the duct work, barely audible. “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.” As he started up the stairs, he shivered again and a racking cough exploded from his chest out of nowhere. 

The shadow seemed to crouch further in its hiding place with a flash of red orbs before swirling away into nothingness. 

He continued coughing as he went up the stairs, weariness coming over him. When he went into the bedroom, You sat up with a teasing look on his face. “Get that heater running Andy?” 

Settling on the end of the bed, he started to peel off his shirt, and you scooted over, rubbing at his back while kissing the back of his neck. “Mmhh, yes I did Y/N. Can we not tonight Love?” He looked over his shoulder and smiled weakly. “Not feeling my best tonight.” 

You pulled back with understanding, and ran your hand down his back and nodded. “Of course Baby, long day.” 

Andy eased back and opened his arms for you to settle in. Your head went on his shoulder, and soon he coughed hard, pulling away from you to lay on his side. Frowning in worry, you settle into your spot and fall asleep.

Once he fell asleep, Andy did nothing but dream awful dreams all night. Dreams filled with him staring at you at the end of a rifle, finger on the trigger to ease it back with a click. Images of Jacob, John and Cassidy running away from him to race into bedrooms and slam the door shut on him. Something cackling from the walls, constantly whispering “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em” till Andy was trying to smother the sound under his palms. Waking with a jerk, he doubled over in the early morning light, coughing again and shivering in the cold.

[fairestwriting]

title: piece of my world

word count: 1562

summary: Phoebe shuts off the game before she goes to bed, but it doesn’t seem to end there.

commissioned by @invaderphoeb ! hope you enjoyed it and thanks so much for the support <3 also available on ao3 here !

guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested

That game had an interesting prologue.

Phoebe chuckles when she switches the phone off, letting her face meet the mattress for a second, smiling. She had fun with it, there were more chapters to look into later, but for now the prologue would have to be enough — It was that long already, all of its parts stretching far into the night.

She yawns, turning around on the bed, now laying on her back instead of her stomach. It had been her friend’s idea to have her play it, knowing her love for Disney movies and its villains, and she’s grateful for the recommendation. It had been a fun night.

But naturally, everything needs to come to an end, and this far into the night, Phoebe really needed to get some sleep.

Hopping off the bed, they leave their phone on the nightstand and dig into their closet for a couple moments before retrieving their favorite pajama set, changing without thinking about much of anything. They hang the clothes they’d been wearing previously on the chair near the desk, then get under the covers, snuggling up until they’re comfortable.

Pip, their dear teddy bear, had been resting on the nightstand, next to the phone, but soon enough it’s in their arms again, squeezed tightly as they nuzzled it with a small smile.

It’s funny seeing how the personalities of the villains translated into these characters, how they held that sort of familiarity she felt when she watched the movies, but turned into something new and refreshing. She didn’t know exactly who was who yet, just a handful of scattered names her friend had mentioned to her, but seeing some elements on the character’s designs, she had a couple of guesses here and there.

It was an interesting game, really. Phoebe was excited to play some more in the morning, she thinks, and drowsiness began to cloud her mind.

That cat, Grim, with his blue flames a boasting, prideful dialogue, and the headmaster Dire Crowley, with that mask and flashy blue clothing, stay in her mind for a bit. Kind of like they’re staring at him through water, Phoebe sinks into the pool of her thoughts, slowly fading away as sleep takes over, and they don’t leave.

What a funny game. She wonders which characters she’d get to know in chapter one — Which villains were personified there, and how. Crowley’s words, in that specific tone of voice he had, echo along incomprehensibly, and she thinks of this one red haired boy who had chased after Grim in the story.

In Phoebe’s blurred vision, he’s running like that, in those robes. She wonders where he was headed, briefly.

. . .

“What happened here?”

“Where the hell did this come from… who is this person?”

“Are they conscious? Everyone, step away…!”

The world blurs and unblurs, everything darkened with the still not faded unconsciousness of Phoebe’s brain — Not many thoughts run through her mind, is she dreaming? The place around her can barely be seen, but it doesn’t look like her room.

No, it doesn’t look like her room at all.

It’s purple all around, odd lighting comes from a chandelier and hanging lamp lights in a sort of lavender or reddish tone. There are windows on the walls, decorated with intricate framing that looped in all sorts of arabesque-like designs, long dark purplish curtains covering their corners, mirrors all around.

Near those walls, coffins floating ominously, emanating glow from a circle on their very centers that kept fading in and out, with all those people around him too, Phoebe notes vaguely, but he can barely move. He feels something poking at him, first at his wrist, then on his face—

“What are you doing? Don’t touch them like this, or it’ll be off with your head…!”

What…? Phoebe tries to open his eyes, but it’s difficult. The voice is eerily, slightly familiar, the line definitely so, taking her way back to watching the classic Alice in Wonderland in a rainy night, curled up in blankets and holding her—

The teddy bear. Where was it?

“Oi, it looks like they’re waking up…” A rougher, deeper voice comes into play after a couple of steps, Phoebe still can’t see right, but she knows there’s a man looming over her, intense eyes that stand out between darker skin and hair.

Her vision unblurs slightly, for a moment. She sees the slash of the scar across his eye.

“This looks strange…” A faraway mutter by an analytical voice, quiet yet it calls for Phoebe’s attention, she sees another tan man on the borders of the crowd, long hair cascading over his shoulder. A shorter one with white hair and red eyes standing by his side. “Kalim, stand behind.” He says, it comes out commanding, misplaced when it came to the image he got through

“Ehh, Jade, what’s going on? Did the entrance ceremony just get interesting?” Another faraway sound, a giggle among many other mutters.

“Mm, it seems so, Floyd.”

Blur again, but it doesn’t last too long before it leaves again, and the faint shapes of other people come back into Phoebe’s field of vision. The voices around Phoebe don’t stop talking, gawking at them like they’re some sort of lab rat to be experimented on, they want to stand up and tell them to back off, to ask where the hell they are, what sort of dream is this? But they can’t move at all, every limb feeling like it’s been cemented onto the floor.

Despite the way their eyes kept darting around, not even their lids could stay fully open—

“What the hell is that…” Someone else is giggling, leaning forwards, a sly smile with orange hair and red eyes.

“Shush, you’re gonna get into trouble, and we didn’t even get sorted yet..!” A person nearby, short dark hair and eyes of the same color, scolds them.

Phoebe is mostly trying to move. Wiggling fingers or toes, squirming, but it’s like they’re trapped into their own body, fading in and out of consciousness, only one foot into the bizarre dream, and the other…

“Has the headmaster not said he’d check where that person came from?” The voice near the one Phoebe could link the name Floyd to asks, just a tad closer, had he taken a couple steps towards them? “I don’t believe I see him anywhere.”

“Super weird, huh. I like it.” That Floyd drawls, sounding just on the edge of a giggle. “Hey, Jade, d’you think they’re from anywhere we know? Maybe some first year who just passed out here?”

“What are you… you two, get away from them, what excuse would you tell if they found you hovering over an unconscious body?” A new, unfamiliar voice perks up. Looking around drowsily, Phoebe finds the source of that duo, two tall teal-haired young men, a third, smaller and silver-haired one popping up between them through the crowd. “Keep away. This is not our problem to solve—”

“Eh, but Azul likes getting up on other people’s businesses, doesn’t he.” Floyd laughs.

“Now’s not the time for this!” A new voice scolds — the boy who’d said that familiar phrase, off with your head, she finds out he’d been small, red haired, and…

Realization hits even through the haze. Was that the game’s prologue?

“Really, where is that headmaster…”

“You know you can’t trust that guy, all he cares about is…”

“But it’s more interesting like this, right? Entrance ceremonies are so boring…”

Murmurs and more murmurs around them. Phoebe resigns herself to the dream. Maybe she’d wake up. Maybe she’d tell her friend about it tomorrow morning, laughing about how easily the game had trickled into her head, turning into this weird frenzied fantasy.

Because it wasn’t real, right? There’s no way something like this could be!

“Silence!” Another voice — One easily recognized, even before the eye-catching figure of a man in flashy garments and a bird mask steps in hurriedly. It’s that headmaster Crowley, his eyes glowing slightly in the dim light. “Don’t crowd around the unconscious person like this—”

“But do you know where they come from?” The scarred man with a deeper voice says, but takes a step back anyway. The headmaster looks around, frantic.

“Of course! Of course I do, perhaps they’re a student, just…”

“Is that… is that teddy bear glowing?”

The headmaster gasps, Phoebe feels a spark of energy hitting her mind again — Her teddy, she pleads in the back of her mind, trying to move, to look around, and she finally sees Pip, laying right next to her, who would now, but a soft glow emanates from the plush of its body. Phoebe’s efforts go towards stretching her arms to grab it, just hold it again, but it’s still impossible.

“This doesn’t look good.” The headmaster says in an uncharacteristic, quiet voice. “Students! Kindly do step back, I’ll be taking them to the infirmary?”

“But are they a student?” The bossy red-haired boy questions. “Headmaster?”

The voices begin to melt and muddle together like ingredients stirred into the same strange syrup — Phoebe sees glowing eyes through a mask very clearly as her body is picked up, internally panicking before the teddy bear is also taken from the floor and placed within her arms.

It doesn’t take too long for everything to go black again.

[villa-kulla]

Fic Writer Review

Tagged by @fontainebleau22, thanks for the tag, sorry for the delay!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

26 at the moment.

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

722 309. I’d have thought it would be more considering how long some of mine seem to get, although looking at other people’s answers to this meme, I guess 26 isn’t really a huge number!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

My first fic ever was a little Lord of the Rings experiment for an exchange thing. But my first proper dip into writing for a fandom would have been Breaking Bad, where I wrote for a couple of years before it felt like my ideas had run their course. Then there was a Kingsman fic, and then Mag7 where - similarly to BrBa - wrote feverishly for a couple years until it felt like the well had been plumbed. Oh yeah and then jumped into the Marvel fandom to drop one Marvel fic before immediately jumping back out lol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

So the Marvel fic has officially just become my most kudoed fic, which is kind of hilarious considering it was a SUEZ! CANAL! FIC! But in my opinion, a good one lol. So yeah, it would be 1. The SamBucky Suez Canal fic, 2. The Kingsman soccer AU, 3. Desert Sand, 4. Chisolm’s 7, and 5. Blue Devils. That last one surprises me, but I guess it was an early one for the fandom, so I think it became an automatic read.

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

I do! It’s possible I’ve missed some here and there, but generally I try to get them all.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think any of them! While my fics definitely include angst, ideally it’s still in a fun way, or at minimum, bittersweet? I don’t generally want the last taste in a reader’s mouth to be angst. ALTHOUGH. I really really wanted to include an epilogue to the selkie fic that’s kind of angsty. Basically the story would end, but then many years later we’d see an old man get off a bus on the coastal road, carrying a suitcase. He’d be wearing a suit, clearly back from many years travelling. He’d walk to the coast, back over a hill where there’d once been a little fishing cottage, long since torn down. He’d walk down to the beach and into a little cove where he’d kneel by the water he knew better than anyone. Opening the suitcase he’d take out a box which he’d then empty into the ocean, ashes spreading across the water. He’d take out a folded bundle of cloth and wrap it around his shoulders. Then he’d dive into the water, disappearing into the waves, leaving nothing but an empty suitcase behind him, and a folded pile of clothes.

I loved that ending but I’m still not 100% sure if it was keeping in tone with the actual ending, so I left it out. Maybe one day I’ll go and add it as en extra chapter snippet.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t know if I’d call them ‘crossovers’ exactly, although I did stick Goody and Billy into a Some Like it Hot ‘jazz band on a train’ situation, and I also did a Breaking Bad one that used some elements of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Those feel more like ‘AUs’ though. I like situational crossovers, but I’ve never been super into fics where characters from different fandoms actually interact.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully not. The most off-putting comment I’ve gotten was someone who - despite being very complimentary - decided to make a full-on laundry list all the anachronisms in a chapter lmao, like what. Stuff like "interesting that this character used this expression when XYZ would only been invented 10 years later!” etc. I’m positive they didn’t realize how it came off, but still, that was kind of hilarious in its.....obliviousness lol. It was special.

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

I do. And I guess I’ve done the full spectrum of ‘fade to black’ to ‘describe every bead of sweat in pearlescent detail’. It really depends on what the fic calls for! I’ve done some I’m quite proud of tbh, but there are others I’d like to go back and have another stab at, just because they felt kinda cookie-cutter.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

There’ve been a couple! I can’t remember which ones specially, but I had some people asking to translate some Breaking Bad ones, and I think a Mag7 one too. I remember someone messaging to ask permission like “We love your fics in Russia!” and that was a very sweet and wild thing to hear.

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

Yes, I wrote one with @yoporkchopsandwiches! Our Victorian opium dens Breaking Bad AU lol. I was just thinking of that recently actually and remembering how fun it was to read what the other wrote! We plotted out most of it together, and then took turns writing chapters or scenes. But of course while writing you come up with other details or ideas, so we’d then present the new chapter to the other with all the new bits added. And it was so fun to read what the other came up with like ‘omg no way didn’t see that coming/good idea!’ and then picking up their idea from there. In that sense it was almost like improv but for writers.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That I’ve written? I think I’ve had the most fun with Goodnight/Billy, partly for the time period, partly for the dynamic, but mostly for the plausibility. While I really enjoyed writing BrBa, it felt more like it came from enthusiasm for the show, not the central ship lol. Don’t get me wrong, the chemistry and its potential was extremely fun to write in a fic setting, but I don’t find I actually shipped it while watching the show itself. Whereas it’s been nice with Mag7 to write for a ship that’s actually....more believable lol. 

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh I can’t beLIEVE I have an unfinished fic up on ao3 lol it haunts me. I was sure I was done with Goodnight/Billy, and then early quarantine last year I had a train robbers AU idea, so I posted a couple chapters. But I don’t think my heart was super in it, I was more just messing around with the idea. I don’t want to delete it, but I’m also not super motivated to finish it haha, but we’ll see what happens. But tbh I like the poem summary better than the fic itself:P

15. What are your writing strengths?

Plotting, keeping things moving, and making stories feel visual maybe? They’re almost all movies in my head anyways, so I think I have good instincts for ‘cinematic moments’.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I’m a little lazy, and also ‘end-product oriented’. In some ways it’s helpful to picture the whole fic before you write it, but sometimes it results in some scenes feeling slightly slapdash because I’m just trying to get them out to move onto the next. Like ‘everyone did everything I wanted to in this scene? Great, next.’ I could stand to ‘stop and smell the roses’ more while I write, and actually see what else I can do to improve a scene.

(also if I use a word once it sticks in my head I end up using it like 5 other times in a scene and don’t notice lol, I need to stop that)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

All for it! Depends how it’s done though. I personally find long scenes of dialogue where you have to constantly jump down to the author’s notes for the translations to be distracting. I like when it’s integrated more naturally where actual translations aren’t super important. Like in River Grit, Billy overhears this little exchange between Goodnight and his childhood nanny:

“Ah c’est vrai, mon petit Bonsoir! J’en peux pas le croire!” she cried out and laughed as she embraced Goody. Billy realized with a start that he actually recognized one of the words: ‘Bonsoir’. Goodnight. (insert brief flashback of Goody teaching him the nickname) / “Ma Serafine,” Goodnight said with a laugh. “C’est vrai que tu ne vieillis pas. Tu vas me rendre jaloux, heh?” / Billy had no idea what Goodnight was saying, but he sure as hell recognized Goodnight’s tone for flattery, and it was confirmed when the old woman laughed and smacked his arm.

What they’re actually saying is: “Oh it’s true, my little Goodnight! I can’t believe it!” / “My Serafine, it’s true you never age. You’re going to make me jealous”. But it doesn’t matter because this fic is from Billy’s POV so it’s about how he experiences the language around him, which is why I wouldn’t have included a translation for the reader. If you understand it then it’s a bonus, but the words themselves aren’t really the point! 

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That lil Lord of the Rings fic.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Hmm for Mag7 I’ve always liked River Grit and love how it turned out. I also think Ashes feels very complete as a fic and I liked the flashback format. And while it’s not my favourite fic, in hindsight I’m impressed with the Kingsman football fic and how I had to write about 5 different soccer games and make them all feel different and exciting, and not just some variation of ‘He kicked the ball!’ I’m really pleased with how those sequences all turned out.

La fin! Not tagging anyone this time, but please feel free to do this if you see it! I love when people just take initiative to do these things without waiting for a tag (also please tag me in it if you do, ‘cause I love reading these things lol)

[blueburds]

Companion: Altrethir Valran - a continuation

First off i’m so glad yall have enjoyed that follower meme <3 second, i saw a few that had bonus details such as companion gifts and a character bio! figured that’d be fun to do for Altrethir. ALSO i included some random dialogue that i thought might be fun. implications of a random questline i made up are present throughout the dialogue.

original post is here. this will be an addition to that! i’ll be writing this as though he’s an Onslaught companion for a Republic character.

NAME: Altrethir (full: Lord Altrethir Valran) GENDER: Male SPECIES: Twi’lek AGE: 36 OCCUPATION: Inquisitor (Force-user) AFFILIATION: The Galactic Republic LIKES: Luxury, justice, learning of ancient artifacts. DISLIKES: Recklessness, close-mindedness, cold weather. GIFTS: Luxury(Love), Cultural(Favorite), Delicacies(Favorite), Weapon(Like), Imperial (Like).

BIO: Since his late teenage years, Altrethir possessed a strong connection to the Force. He was recruited to the Korriban Academy and trained to become a Lord of the Sith. Altrethir wholly trusted in the Force; he always had faith in its guidance. And when the Force wanted to go down a different path, he listened.

The Sith Empire’s ideals didn’t align with his own whereas the Republic would have fought for them. He defected and began to seek balance in the Force. Not Jedi, nor Sith any longer, Altrethir simply adopted the title of “Inquisitor” to suit him.

DIALOGUE CONVERSATIONS:

(First meeting)

Altrethir: “Greetings, Commander. I have heard... phenomenal things concerning your work. It is an honor to meet you in-person.”

Good to meet you, too. -- “’Phenomenal’ is certainly a way of putting it. I trust we’ll work well together.”

Altrethir: “As do I. With pleasantries aside, let us brief you on the mission.”

[Flirt] The pleasure is mine. -- “I’d love to hear exactly what you’ve heard about me. But, I think I’d also love to hear more about you.”

Altrethir: “Of course--but perhaps once the issue at hand has been settled.”

You’re Imperial? -- (Force-users): “You’re Sith--I can sense the darkness of your aura.”    (Non-Force-users): “The Republic’s relying on defectors now? I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Altrethir: (To Force-users): “I have harnessed control of the Dark Side; never again shall it back me into a corner.”     (To non-Force-users): “The Republic fights for freedom and justice. I want nothing more than that for my people.”

(Post-mission conversation dialogue)

Altrethir: “Reports say that the Empire’s swollen pride has taken a hard blow.” “You’ve done incredibly well--better than I could have anticipated. I never had my doubts.”

It was a hard-won victory. -- “Many innocent lives were lost. The choice was a difficult one, and not one I made lightly.”

Altrethir: “I do not blame you. Civilian casualties are inevitable in war, but minimalizing them should be a priority.”

[Flirt] It was better in-person. -- “You should’ve been there. I would have loved to see you in action.”

Altrethir: “I am a man of many talents. In this particular scenario, my non-combatant skills were needed elsewhere.”

They had it coming. -- (Republic class PC’s) “I’ve fought the Empire for years. It always feels good to hit them where it hurts most.”     (Imperial class PC’s) “No one knows what it takes to wound the Empire more than I do. I hit them where it hurt most.”

Altrethir: “We mustn’t gloss over the amount of civilian damage caused by our mission. Imperial or Republic, civilians should never be caught in the cross-fire of military operations.”

(New mission dialogue)

Altrethir: “Commander.” “An opportunity to send a message to the Empire’s allies has arisen.” “Members of the Hutt Cartel have shifted their allegiance, abandoning their former Republic allies in favor of the Empire.” “Imperial-loyal Hutts have taken members who are still loyal to the Republic hostage. By launching a rescue mission, we will succeed in showing our allies that we don’t abandon our own, nor do we tolerate vicious threats the Empire makes.”

Let’s go. -- “The Hutts are powerful allies and none we can afford to lose. Where do we go from here?”

Altrethir: “Nar Shaddaa. A place you could’ve guessed yourself, hm?”

You don’t like Hutts? -- “Given what you’ve told me about your past, I don’t see you willingly putting yourself at risk to save Hutts.”

Altrethir: “This is a matter of saving useful allies of the Republic. Not about my own personal distaste.”

Leave them to rot. -- “Hutt business always goes sour. We wouldn’t lose much by letting them go.”

Altrethir: “If my calculations proved that to be the case, then I would never have brought this matter to your attention. But the Republic needs these Hutts.”

(continued) Altrethir: “I shall be joining you on this mission. I’ll present you with more details during the ride there.”

(First time on Odessen)

Altrethir: “Such a marvelous world; the Force is in balance.” “While its aura is not fiery like that of Korriban, nor is it soothing like Tython, it feels... neutral. I am content.”

Ideal for the Alliance. -- “The Eternal Alliance is made up of people from all sorts of backgrounds. Jedi, Sith, some in between--such as the defected Knights of Zakuul. Odessen’s neutrality probably helped everyone feel safer.”

Altrethir: “Indeed. The subject piques my interest. Perhaps I should do some independent research on the matter later.”

[Flirt] You want a tour? -- “The base is pretty big, but the wilds are where the real beauty and charm lie. I should show you around.”

Altrethir: “And I would not object. Your company has been ever pleasant.”

I don’t care. -- “There’s got to be something better on your mind than that.”

Altrethir: “Matters concerning the Force are always something worth thinking critically about.”

(continued) Altrethir: “I am inclined to speak to the leader of your Force Enclave: The Voss Mystic, Sana-Rae.” “If there is nothing else for now, Commander, I shall be heading on my way.”

Go ahead -- “I’ll see you around. You know the way?”

Altrethir: “I do. Farewell for now, Commander.”

[Flirt] I’d rather show you around. -- “My offer for a tour’s still open, Altrethir. You sure you don’t want just a quick look around?”

Altrethir: “Since you are quite insistent, it would be rude of me to decline. Shall I meet with you somewhere after I’ve concluded my business?”

PC: "My personal landing zone will do just fine.”

Altrethir: “Then I shall be no longer than twenty minutes.” “I will see you then.”

(Continued scene, prompted from flirting)

Altrethir: “You were right; the wilds are utterly gorgeous. While perhaps a bit warmer in temperature, I daresay they remind me of Alderaan.”

PC: “Have you been to many worlds?”

Altrethir:��“I have, yes. Once my old Sith Master granted me the freedom to travel where I pleased, I abused that power.” “After being chained and enslaved for the first twenty or so years of my life, I wanted to see everything the Galaxy had to offer.”

You weren’t only a slave to the Hutts. -- “Knowing the Sith hierarchy, you traded one master for another.”

Altrethir: “I do not disagree. Still, Lord Sen’tulo--my late Sith Master--granted me a level of freedom I’d never experienced before. I was grateful for that much.”

You fought for the wrong side. -- “The Empire openly oppresses people--aliens especially. Why waste so much time with them? Why didn’t you defect sooner?”

Altrethir: “I wanted to prove that success could be achieved no matter one’s species. By becoming a Lord of the Sith, I spat in the face of those who tried to drag me down throughout my endeavor.”

Sith Master? -- “You haven’t mentioned this Master before. What were they like?”

Altrethir: “Lord Sen’tulo was an honorable woman. Rational, level-headed, logical. Stern, but held compassion. She broke several Sith stereotypes. Perhaps that was what lead to her ultimate downfall.”

(continued) Altrethir: “Freedom is important to me. I cannot bear to see innocent individuals shackled as slaves.” “I know what that cruel life is like first-hand. Initially, I sought to use my position of power in the Empire to find an end to slavery. My desire clouded my judgement.” “The only way to end the practice was to fight against it. Thus, I defected.”

A noble cause. -- “I can tell how important your ideals are to you. You did the right thing.”

Altrethir: “Who determines what is right or what is wrong is irrelevant. But--I understand your meaning. I did what I believe was right.”

Position of power? -- “Just how powerful of a Sith were you before turning to the Republic?”

Altrethir: “A Darth, but not on the Dark Council. I nearly reached the position when I had my revelation.”

The Republic’s wary. -- “The Sith are ancient enemies of the Republic and the Jedi. Do they wholly trust you?”

Altrethir: “I would imagine there are many who don’t. But the team I work with does--they are all I need to prove my loyalty.”

(continued) Altrethir: “Your hospitality has been greatly appreciated, Commander.” “Though we’ve known one another for a relatively short period of time, I speak truthfully when I say I’ve enjoyed every moment of your company. You are quite the inspiring leader.”

[Kiss] So have I. -- “And I’ve enjoyed your company.”

(post-kiss) Altrethir: “Commander, you are as charming as you are alluring.”

We should head back. -- “It’s been nice. We should be heading back, though.”

“I concur. Thank you for this time to speak with you; it has been a pleasure.”

[natromanxoff]

I wasn’t sure about posting this at first but as it is already shared publicly and I have come across with it on Pinterest, I decided that it would be okay. So here is a story of a fan about Jim Hutton:

“ON 23rd of March, there was a Queen Tribute band concert in Goresbridge and my boyfriend told me that Jim would come as well. He admitted that he had arranged with Stephen for Jim to come along. The concert was in the pub called The Spirit Store. What a great name for spiritual meeting, I thought. When I entered, Jim sat at the table with Stephen, Jascqueline, her sister Valeria and other family friends. There was nowhere to sit, so we just stood by the table for a while. When I looked at Jim, he appeared somewhat fragile and tiny, like a man who could easily be overlooked. He didn´t look anything like those photos portraying him in the books.

After a while, there was a free seat by the table and everyone, including Jim, moved in order for us to sit down. It was just one place and my friend Mike wanted to take it. He got up fast but they all stopped him. Jim measured Mike up and down and told him, "Perhaps you should let the lady sit here, you cavalier!" Embarassed, Mike got up from his chair and offered it to me. I got the honorable place alongside Jim. Being a woman sometimes has its advantages! Jim welcomed me with heartfelt "Hi". At first I was nervous, but after a while I felt relaxed and enjoyed Jim's company. I was aware of his behavior, gestures, laughter, and tried to absorb his energy all at once. It was easy to talk to him about anything and everything.

I wanted to know the man Freddie loved so much, so I guess I started giving him many questions.

"Jim, are you still in touch with Phoebe?" Jim looked at me closely and began to talk to me with interest. "I haven´t really been talking to him for a long time. I know he had a hotel in Dubai, then he sold it, and he's in Prague now. He also bought something overthere and I think he's going to settle down there." When I heard about Prague, I jumped up excitedly and told him that I was from there. He smiled a little, though the coincidence like this didn´t overwhelm him as much as me.

He relished glass of Budwaiser and smoked Ultra light Silk Cuts. He offered me one and lit it up for me like a real gentleman. It seemed he wanted to continue talking. We both made fun of the ultralight effect of his cigarettes, which would probably piss off every orthodox smoker, Freddie for sure! He then demonstrated jokingly, how to properly smoke them. He inhaled all the smoke by sucking in his cheeks and widening his eyes, as if he should soon burst like an inflated toad. None of us resisted and we both burst into a mad laughter. I told him about my visit to Munich and meeting Barbara. He smiled and listened, then he rolled his eyes up to heaven and stated that she is one hell of a crazy woman. I totally agreed, and added, that also alcoholic one. It was surreal to talk about mutual aquaintances together, people we both knew. I also mentioned my visit to New York club and I could see how he returns nostalgically into his memories. Then I also tried to make him remember my friend Allison, who told me about him in the first place.

"About nine years ago she visited you in London". He couldn´t remember and admitted, that since then a lot of people have passed through his life and many of them he never saw again.

I continued. "She showed me several of your photos and in one of them you were holding Freddie's portrait that you bought at the auction". Suddenly he jumped up and said he knew whom I mean.

I showed him my miniature box containing a stone and talked about it with almost patriotic pride. "It's a stone from Logan Mews that I had to dig out from under the threshold of his house, because there was nothing else to take." Jim laughed out loud, this time without any hindrance and doubt that I was totally crazy. I also laughed because I knew I sound like nuts. He remarked with smile from ear to ear that I was pretty crazy. "Yeah, I'm crazy, and I'm proud to be. Who isn´t...and by the way.....why not?" I smiled at what I just said, because that´s what Freddie would say, to defend himself. Jim then talked about the medallion that Freddie had given him for his birthday. He said, there were three miniature pictures inside. "The first is that of Miko ", he said gently, looking up at me to make sure I knew who he was talking about. "In the other one is Freddie" ... he continued with kind of fervor and love. Something deep inside me shivered. "In the third one," ... he didn´t answer yet, when I jumped into his monologue ...."Tiffany," I blurted out.

"My mom's photo," he finished his sentence. (and I prayed he didn´t register my answer).

It was nice to hear him remembering like that. He opened up in front of me the way I never dreamt of. I think it was nice for him to share these beautiful moments and to talk about things that meant so much to him. "This rock is my good luck charm. I have been listening to Queen since I´m twelve and I also work in the Fan Club's office. We celebrate his anniversary every year. When I went here, I was kidding with my friends that I might meet Jim Hutton in Ireland... and here you are, sitting right next to me. That´s my dream come true", I said all emotional.

"How do you know Stephen?", he inquired after while.

"I go out with Vinnie and they are good friends" He eyed my boyfriend and indicated that he knew who he was.

"I was annoying the two of them and was constantly asking them to bring you", I smiled.

"Oh, Jacqueline wanted me to come, alright" Jim smiled at the thought. Then he talked about the music talent competition, in which they were selecting the best imitators of Queen.

"What music are you actually listening to?" I wondered.

"I have no favorite, I'm listening to almost everything. Even a radio".

"And do you still have Zig and Zag?"

He only sighed and said in a sad voice that they had both died since then.

"And do you have any other cats?"

"Yeah, I have seven others now," Jim smiled. This number didn´t surprise me. The old habits are hard to kill.

"Do you still keep up the gardening, Jim?"

"Constantly," he said with a loving smile and amusedly showed me his hands dirty from the clay and covered in sores. For God's sake, he must have been gardening a few minutes before going to a concert!, I thought to myself. A complete garden maniac.....

We were joking on the account of the band that was supposed to start playing long time ago, but somehow did not. He told me it would be nice to get drunk, so we didn´t know how terrible they were. That really made me crack up. He could be so funny.

He joked and emphasized to everyone around the table, that instead of a concert he could have been at home watching his favorite movie. In the same breath, he admitted that he was curious about their performance and that he hadn´t been out in ages.

He leaned over to me and confessed, that now he lived a life completely cut off from the rest of the world.

"We are basically the same, I am basically like him. Now I just enjoy loneliness and privacy. I don´t go out anywhere except my garden". I immediately knew whom he was referring to in his speech.

I said that I had discovered his house in Palatine and apologized when I saw his slightly concerned look. I said I was just little curious.

He then recalled a few of his encounters with the fans. One day there was an unknown car with a couple of strangers that arrived to his house. They came all way from Vienna and they found him by questioning people in a town! Not a hard thing to trace him, he said, as every cab driver in the area knows him pretty well. One local newspaper even published a photo of his house, and although they gave a wrong address, a lot of people had found him.

That made me laugh, because I knew what it means to be a devoted fan.

"On the other hand, it's nice to know that someone is constantly looking after you and giving you the feeling that all this is still alive," I added with a smile.

"Jim, do you still have your Volvo?"

"You mean the one that Freddie gave me?.....No, I don´t have it few years now, I´ve swapped it for a new one," he smiled.

He was all too gallant all the time, always lighting my cigarette.

He also wondered how long I would stay in Ireland, so I said that only another half a year.

"And you wanna come back here?" He asked suddenly.

"Oh, I'd love to. I'm trying to find a job either in Carlow or Kilkenny," I said enthusiastically.

Then I fell silent, looked at him and assured him "Definitely."

Each time he looked up into my eyes, I saw an incredibly nice person in front of me. Something in his silent expression suggested that he had suffered great deal of pain in life, but that he was now completely reconciled with his fate. Still, in his eyes shone a spark of unrelenting humor. In his company I forgot all about the world. I was happy to be able to make such an affluent and warm contact with him. The longer we knew each other, the closer we were.

When he wanted to go to the toilet, Stephen told him that the men's toilets were behind the bar and the ladies in front of the bar. It sounded like he wasn´t quite sure which one would Jim prefer.

But Jim didn´t care much and set off to the men's. I admit it made me laugh a little.

Then we continued our dialogue. I mentioned that I read both his and Phoebe's book, but that I couldn´t find his book anywhere in the stores. He confirmed that it´s out of print at the minute.

When I told him that I had stolen his book at the local library, he laughed and said that I should have asked him and he would have given me a copy, but he only had Italian version.

Finally, the band started to play. Everyone in the pub stood up and whole lot of us - as we were tucked in at the back, climbed onto the window ledges. I stood next to Jim, who remained seated.

He looked a little bit run over. I knew he was surrounded by the loneliness and I watched him with sadness. I lacked much power or words to comfort him. It was only after some wonderful songs that we both joined and got up. He could not remain sad in such a loving and friendly company for ever.

When he noticed the enormous, life-vibrant energy that only Queen music could produce in conjunction with a crowd of people singing, I think he forgot his personal pain. I could see pride in his face. He stood up and watched the band. Then he addressed me and made me come up onto the ledge above him to see better. I would not listen to anybody else, but from him it didn´t sound like an order. He wanted me to get the most out of it and it pleased me. Then we sat back and drank. Jim seemed to be getting cheerful and livelier. The more he drank, the more cheerful he was. The guys ordered him Red Bull with vodka. When I asked him if it was vodka, he claimed it was white lemonade! He put a warm glass of "vodka" on my hand, so I almost jumped out of my skin, which he thought was terribly funny.

Whatever he did, he looked at me as though I was the only person who knew what was behind his looks. His faces and funny grimaces reminded me of Freddie. He had a lot of subconsciously inherited poses and gestures from him. Even in his laughter I could detect an influence of Freddie's strong personality. He simply marked all people around him. It was not the same contagious and stormy laugh, but there was a spark of resemblance.

His niece Jacqueline, Valerie and Stephen, danced all the time on the ledge and Jim was pulling them and wrapping himself in between their legs, hugging them, clinging to them, and messing around like a little boy. It was a wonderful sight, as he was so happy and childish.

After some time, Jim lost himself in a crowd of concert goers, so I went to look for him. Without his company it felt such a sad place. It was as if he had fallen through the ground, which made me very nervous. Finally, I found him by the entrance table, where he was joking away with one old blonde, not too different from frivolous Barbara Valentin. I asked him for a photo together. At first he looked impenetrable but as soon as I threw a sad eye and smirked, he brightened up and agreed as if saying "You know you can, anything for you, darling"

His niece Valerie took our picture. He then whispered to me that he hopes I´ll send him some pictures later.

After that he announced that we are going back inside to listen to the band.

I saw them from close-up and I must say that it was much better to just hear them. They looked rather too comic with all their wigs. It was something that would make Freddie laugh too.

I told Jim that they don´t look very natural,which he agreed with, but he said he couldn´t complain about their music. He was totally right, because musically they weren´t bad and the singer had a very authentic voice.

Inside, everybody was dancing and Jim joined in and circled around them like a rogalo.

The whole pub vibrated with intense and loving energy. There was no one who would be bored. Jim then threw himself in the arms of his two nieces, who gently caressed him in his hair and embraced him. He let them take care of him, now vulnerable like a little lost child all of a sudden.

There was something deeply touching about it. He had closed his eyes and sadly lowered his head, as if his tears flowed deep inside, in his invisible world. I realized at this stage, how much he really loved Freddie. I was looking at him and I had a desire to caress him and comfort him but instead, I had to stand aside.

"You can have everything and yet feel alone", Freddie once said. But I was glad Jim had his family and friends around him, who cared and protected him. Jim was going through sorrow and joy,both at the same time, it seemed.

During one of his many shananigans, I caught him messing around with his niece's boyfriend.

He sat him on his knees and imitated sexual intercourse. It would seem offensive and utterly crazy to someone who didn´t know him. But we all did. Jim was laughing like crazy and when he finally looked at me, he seemed a little embarrassed by his behavior and gave me a look that said"I hope you won´t tell on me to Freddie"...but it was hard to take him seriously.

We both smiled conspiratorially at each other. In that sense, our relationship no matter how short-lived, was special. We understood one another in thoughts. He winked at me a couple of times, tapping my beer like an old buddy.

In one moment in particular, Jim leaned over me and whispered: "You as a fan have right to be crazy, but them" ... pointing at our dancing group of friends ... " they are fucked up", he said with smile and he began to knock his finger against his forehead. An international gesture that doesn´t need an interpreter!

Jim then went to the toilets for a while, and I, like a stray sheep, followed him through crowds of oblivious dancers. He was somewhat drunk at that time and barely retained a balance. He staggered a little like a broken tree. No surprise after god knows how many Red bulls and vodkas! I was bit afraid for him, so I supported him inconspicuously by both shoulders from behind. He went to the toilet and cared too little to even close the door behind him. If anyone was looking, he would see Jim Hutton pissing in a toilet bowl in his bright canary shirt.

At that moment they played the most touching song of all, These are the Days of our lives .... I stood by the door and listened, watching the band and waited for Jim. I don´t know why, perhaps because of the fate that brought me here, I suddenly felt terrible sorrow. I was sorry for Freddie and Jim. Tears poured into my eyes. I didn´t cry, but was very close to it. Jim suddenly appeared next to me and noticed my face. "What about those tears? I hope you don´t cry", but at this stage I was lost for words. His concern made me sad even more. Something inside me forced me to caress him. I hugged him gently around his neck and put my head on his shoulder for a moment. I wanted to let him know that I am very sorry about what happened to Freddie. He did not resist. He knew he wasn´t the only one in the world who was missing him. I looked into his eyes, and I told him a sentence that I didn´t know why I said, but I strongly felt it..."Jim, he's here, he IS here." His expression was rather confused at first. "Do you believe me?" ... I said this with a seriousness and a certain degree of self-assurance that he froze for a while. He looked thoughtful. He knew what I was talking about.

I seemed to only confirm his inner conviction. He didn´t say a word. He wiped my tear away with the edge of his hand and without warning, took me firmly by the hand and led me through crowds back to our friends. There was a lot of care and love in his touch. The music was just playing and Freddie just sang "I still love you" and I knew he did.

I didn´t want to leave, but I knew I said everything I needed to. I could not leave without saying goodbye. It would be a sin after all this to just disappear into eternity. I interrupted him from the conversation with someone else, leaned over the table and said, "Jim, I'm leaving now, so I want to say goodbye, it was great pleasure meeting you." I smiled as much as my heart allowed me to and shook his hand. He stared up and thought for a moment, and then, without any hesitance said, "We do not see each other for the last time." I didn´t know at this time how true his words were.

I thought I did not understand well, so I asked again, "sorry?" and he repeated patiently and more resolutely, "I shall surely see you again," while taking my hand into his hands and kissing it gently.

He left me in amazement. I stumbled out from there perplexed but still I could hear him talking about me to someone there. He probably said he hadn´t seen a bigger nutcase in a long time, assuming from his cute teddybear smile. Gosh I loved him so much!

The next day I learned from my friends that Jim was looking next morning for his jacket that he had forgotten in his car. Few days later, I've sent him the promised photographs. Jacquie confirmed that he called in to say he had received them allright.”

2001

“...And then I returned back to Ireland in 2004.

I had the opportunity to welcome Jim to my own home in Carlow sometime in 2006. He was Stephen´s surprise. When the door opened up, I didn´t see him at first.

Then his head popped out from the side of the door and with a laugh he emerged a bit later. He hugged me like we hadn´t seen each other for million years. What I felt at that moment was indescripable. My dear Jim back in my life and in my own house!

We all sat in the living room, Jim settled down on the sofa, I was sitting on the ground and absorbed the precious moments because I knew time spent with him was only borrowed time. Then we watched Queen videos and talked about Freddie as if he were in the next room. It was so surreal. Me and Jim agreed that our favorite video was Scandal, and he just added that Freddie didn´t like it very much because he couldn´t make any creative input in it, although he loved the song.

Then we talked about his illness, about him taking up to 40 pills a day to sustain his health and he also explained the difference between AIDS and HIV, as many people still didn´t know. We have talked so much and - above all - we laughed all night, almost at everything. It was so easy to succumb to his funny personality once again and to his heartfelt laughter. He made jokes about fancying my ex-boyfriend, whom he lied on top of on the sofa. Long time ago, I´ve sent him a letter explaining to him how Freddie has impacted my life. But I've forgotten I´ve ever written it and now I was faced with the horror that I actually have sent it. I hoped he has forgotten about it, but when Jim and I met in the corridor of our house, I couldn´t but apologize to him for that letter, and for being so daring. To my surprise, he looked at me softly with his tired eyes and assured me that my letter was absolutely fascinating. Then we were interrupted by Stephen, who was just leaving a toilet and the conversation was cut short at that point. Unfortunatelly I would never have the chance to find out what was the next thing he was about to say, because I noticed he wanted to continue, if he weren´t interrupted.

When we were saying goodbye at the door, he treated me as an old friend. He simply kissed me on the lips, which utterly shocked me and made me laugh at the same time.

He invited us back to his house to have a little party, but my ex-boyfriend was not in the perfect mood and so we politely declined, which I will forever regret!

About a year after that I bumped into Jim several times in the city where we both lived, or we exchanged text messages whenever I needed to advise what room flowers would be best for our new house. Sometimes I learnt about how he´s doing through my ex-boyfriend, who used to hang out with him and drink few pints in a night bar. Once my ex confessed how Jim told him that I was a great person and he should be happy to have me. They must have been talking about me!!!!

Then I met Jim one night in the nightclub, where he was with his friends. He spent most of his time sitting in the lounge smoking a cigarette, having fun with younger girls. Wherever he was, you heard his laughter. That night my ex-boyfriend arranged for Jim and me to have a dance together.

Jim was just dancing on the dancefloor with some older woman. I remember he had his jumper tied around his waist. I just got onto the dancefloor, he looked at me all serious and pulled me close to him. It was some tediously slow song that I can´t even remember, I just know that we were staggering from side to side like two handiccaped penguins and that made me laugh hysterically.

He was such a clown! Now, however, I consider this moment as one of the most precious memories of him. It was my night.

Back in 2009, I have learned that Jim was diagnosed with cancer. My ex-boyfriend told me how concerned Jim was when informing him. He said, he wept. At that time I didn´t know how serious the situation was and I hoped Jim will get better in no time. I believed the doctors would somehow help him out of it. I saw him a little later at work when he came to our restaurant for breakfast.

I almost served him as another customer, but when I realized it was him, I pulled myself back into the kitchen and let the other girls serve him. He never noticed. I was in such state of shock. I didn´t know what to do, how to act and what to say. He was so thin, just skin and bone. His face was sinking, his eyes full of pain, a small tube leading from his nose to the oxygen device he carried in his backpack and a small canvas hat on his head. I couldn´t believe this was Jim, whom I have remembered being so full of life and joy only half a year ago. I wanted to cry like never before. I also felt embarassed by my own cowardly reaction. I wished more than anything in my life to hug him and say I loved him. I wanted to wish him a happy Christmas. But I was scared of my own tears, which would not help him in his situation.

I wrote him a message on the phone, but he didn´t respond. And then I got the terrible news. Jim died and somehow I also missed his funeral. I took a first taxi and went at least to his months Mass and visited his grave, bringing him daffodils and little white lantern with candle. It was so hard for me. His relatives stood above his grave. I said my prayers in a minute of silence. The air didn´t move and the moon was full in the night sky. It was dark and cold all around but I didn´t care.

I wanted to see him laugh and mess around like he used to. It was as if another star had disappeared and fell to the earth. If only life could last forever.”

2006-2010

Credits to Seraphiel’s blog. Please don’t repost without credits.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

just some thoughts without pretending to be the truth. i have a feeling like inn 2017-18 there was some weird (but not bad) tension between vmin. like jm was getting to know himself and tae was.. observing? idk. the way they glared at e/o and touched was sometimes too intimate and jm went totally shy. but know smth kinda changed and i wonder what is it now? bois are getting older? and some moments in LGO tae doesn't look at jm i guess. like it's him shy now. AMA live is where he looks past him

Okay before I get into it I’d like to ask three questions, not necessarily directed at the person who sent in this ask but rather more into a general discussion round:

what is the sort of behavioral pattern that a ship needs to fulfill in order for people to think “oh, they might be into each other” and “oh, I think X ship is in love”, that sort of thing? Is it loud, almost over the top behavior taken straight out of the older generation Idol handbook? Is it constant physical contact, constant affection through double-meaning dialogues?

if vmin were to exhibit such behavior, show us lots and lots of affectionate interactions on camera in nearly every piece of content we have, tell each other every chance they get that they love each other when the cameras are rolling, would that make them seem more real, or would that cheapen the ship and only lead people to say “vmin is fan service and there’s no chance they are actually real”?

if we agree on the hypothesis that vmin might by now be in a relationship of a few years, and they are both 25 years old, so grown men at the height of their careers, do you really think they would feel the need to showcase their relationship and legitimate romantic feelings to each other in front of the camera? Would they really want to allow millions of people (some with good attitudes and respect, many though without respect and only hate on their tongues) into their relationship?

These are the sort of things I think about and I’m always curious to know what others think and how things would be like if vmin were to behave like certain others, if those who doubt them would stop, or only see it as more of a reason to doubt.

In any case, to a certain extent I agree with the person who sent in this question, that yes vmin’s on camera behavior has changed, that while in 2017/18 it was more Jimin who was shy, it’s now Tae who appears shy more often. But, I don’t see that as bad or negative or sign of things not going well. At all. Since last year I feel like Tae’s attitude toward being an idol and everything that entails has changed a bit, as did his mentality especially after he went through burn out and generally had a hard time in the first few months of 2020. But that I think had nothing to do with Jimin. I think their relationship, however you’d define it, was fine for most of it, and I think after so many years of knowing each other (it’ll be nine this year) and being close friends and perhaps more, they know each other, inside and out, and know how to act in certain situations and depending on how the other is feeling.

But while there have certainly been instances in 2020 where Tae appeared shy when interacting with Jimin, there have also been moments where he didn’t. Take for instance their interview where they spoke about all their albums. Once they got to Wings and BS&T, Tae spoke about how he remembers Jimin’s charisma and how tempting he came across in it. Or the interview filmed in that little corner at a diner or something where Jimin was supposed to say which moment in Dynamite is his favorite where Tae touched his shoulder and Jimin basically completely blanked for a moment before smiling, giggling, and saying that his favorite part was Tae’s. Or that one interview where they sat next to each other talking about Dynamite and then all of a sudden they were holding hands for almost the rest of the interview. Or Tae cupping Jimin’s hand during a photoshoot which we saw in the behind the scenes glimpses from when they were filming the Baskin’ Robbins ads.

More below the cut since this kind of turned out a little longer than anticipated, I hope you don’t mind, anon:

I think a big deciding factor in how vmin behave with each other and how they come across on camera is where they are, as well as most certainly how they are feeling on that day. Tae said himself that on days where he’s feeling good, going to work and doing what they do is fun and he has no problem with it, yet when he’s not feeling well, it’s hard and he has to push himself more to do things. Besides, there is definitely a distinction between how vmin behave when they know a camera is watching, and when there isn’t one. It even shows in something as silly as, remember MOTS ON:E day 2 at the end of Hobi’s performance of EGO when the members join him? Vmin are dancing with each other, standing facing each other with Jimin doing some kind of almost like “I’m performing magic on you” hand gesture toward Tae BUT the second he realizes the cameras are on him, Jimin straightens up and pretends like that didn’t just happen and no one saw anything. Or their side hug on day 1 and silly dance during day 2 during Dionysus, that, too, was something not visible on the main cam, just a side one which they knew would not be available during the replay, so less people would see it. Or even that famous moment of them holding hands on the airport on Tae’s birthday in 2019 on the way to NYC after going up the stairs. They thought no one could see, so they held hands like it’s the most natural and normal thing for them to do because that’s just how they are.

On the other hand, a performance where I agree with the anon that sent the question is that during BangBangCon in June when they performed Friends. Admin 2 already back then told me how you could see how both of them, but especially Tae, were shy during that performance. Jimin in his March vlive talking about Friends said that Friends is a meaningful song for him and that it will be an emotional moment in and of itself if they one day get to perform it together on stage, and you could truly see that. They both seemed somewhat nervous, shy, and a little unsure in some of their movements, but it also showed a glimpse at their dynamic, how it was Jimin who hugged Tae from the back, who opened his hand to lace their fingers together and hold it, almost like that dynamic of “I’m large but he’s in charge”, you know? Why is that? Because not only must it have been meaningful to them to perform together in such a way, but also Friends is a deeply personal song to them, probably more than any of us truly understand. (song analysis by Admin 1) But, at the same time, Tae has no issue with being brave online, as in to go on Wevserse and proclaim that 95z is love, or like today, go and post seven pictures out of which three were of Jimin (4 if you also take into account the one with the mirrors) or to make Jimin’s birthday the password while playing games with ARMY. Perhaps the difference is that on Weverse, Tae is in total control of the situation, it’s a place where no editor will cut the scene or edit it, but whatever he’ll say and post, that will be exactly how it is. Of course people can misconstrue his words, but that’s something no one has any control over ever, and thus not the point.

The way I see it, sometimes they allow themselves to be silly together, to show each other affection and do more cute things, like Tae going to Jimin’s room in ITS and rolling over him, giggling and just being silly and then sitting next to him and caressing Jimin’s back since he was sick. Or Jimin waking up and limping outside to see where Tae is and ask if he’s all right that morning. But in the grand scheme of things BTS have so little privacy, so few things that are truly just theirs and not something they share with us, so they guard the small things precious to them from prying eyes and treasure it. And that’s the case for their relationship, regardless of how you want to see it, as well. It’s theirs, not ours. We’re just privileged enough to catch glimpses of it sometimes.

Like remember on the day they had their interview at KBS in the summer due to their BBH100 #1 where the TV station even showed their arrival? Remember how Tae and Jimin first shared their hand sanitizer, since Jimin used too much of it, and later on when they walked next to each other, first they looked at each other, like a silent question passing between them of “are we doing this?” and concluded that yes. Which was followed by them holding hands and Jimin even raising their hands together toward the camera with an almost a little challenging looking in his eyes, like he wanted to show that they belong together in such a public manner. Tae looked a little shy in that moment as well, but he agreed to do it anyway, so his shyness doesn’t necessarily have to be connected to Jimin, per se, but more the situation they are in and who’s watching them.

Also, a final thing that always fascinates me is how, when other members don’t show their affection in every piece of content we get, no one questions their love for each other, no one questions if X is real even if those two don’t interact all too much for a while, people still think they’re close and whatnot, as example. And yet when vmin don’t interact in every interview and every other piece of content we get, immediately the questions begin if they are still close, if they are still together, if they’ve had a fight or if they broke up. And if they do show affection, it’s immediately equated to “it’s just bros being bros”.

Ask yourself: is an interview about their new song or album really the right place for “ship” moments? Is every performance the right place for it? And what if on that particular day one or the other or both simply weren’t feeling well? Or what if they simply hugged or whatnot before the performance and thus felt no need for a repeat on stage? They are professionals, they are musicians, and if we do get absolutely adorable moments like Tae taking a piece of confetti out of Jimin’s hair during their duet moment in LGO, that’s a precious gift, and not something we should demand/expect seeing every time. Would those moments still feel as special as they do now if we got the every time?

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 5

Here marks the middle of our tale, that vast, perilous land between the beginning and the end. The going is treacherous in these parts—the wayward couple must heal on their own, tread the sea of two decades with arms and souls akimbo—but still, it is not unnecessary. The middle is never aimless. Always, always, it has one goal: the ending.

When the lights go up and the curtains close, you clap—perhaps, should the couple reunite (which, of course, they will), you shout ���Encore, encore!” But then, at last, you return to your car. You catch the train, or you grab a taxi. At last, having started at the beginning and waded through the middle, you reach the final destination. The night is over; you go home.

Home. Whether a place, a person, a feeling, or a thing—it does not matter. Home is always the goal and the ending, the northernmost star we pray to and walk towards.

[December 24th, 1996]

Two weeks’ vacation in a cabin, tucked deep inside a fold of mountains. Here, amongst the stretches of living nothingness, even the silence has a voice. Owls hoot in the night. The pines’ chatter, their needle-whispers pierced by caws and shifted air—a hawk swooping to ensnare her prey. And if one listens closely enough, one can hear the hunter's a shaky, traitorous breath, which launches the doe across the snow—the echo of his heartsong, the drum to which the doe’s hooves beat. Come back, come back, come back.

This is why Jamie has come here: for the endless conversation between man and mountain, more steadfast than the chill in his heart. In the past four years, Jamie has sold the twin cot (it lies in a salvage yard somewhere, all broken springs and dreams). A different couple has moved into the studio, and when they had spoken of paint jobs—“Perhaps mint green, what d’ye say, hon?”— Jamie had thought, Thank God. He’d happily offered them the keys when they turned to him, pupils dilated with youthful optimism. By that point, there was no space for Jamie and Claire inside that Edinburgh Eden, and so he’d chimed in, “Aye, a bonny color.” (Indeed, the walls are mint now, though a forgotten strip of marigold shines in the northern corner.)

For two years, Jamie has lived with Murtagh in Glasgow, having shed not just his home but his editorial career in publishing. He has grown tired of fixing other’s mistakes—too many of his own in need of correction—and so here he sits on this Christmas Eve, writing towards redemption.

The Grampians are a peaceful place, big hulks of rock scattered with trees—bouquets of fir, oak, and pine cradling other cabins. At dark, their windows flicker, candlelit with the dreams of the aspiring novelists, essayists, playwrights therein. Men and women, all bowed before the cleansing hum of nature’s speech. Like Jamie, they had seen the fliers: WRITER’S RETREAT, TWO WEEKS IN THE MOUNTAINS—and so it was. They were small colony taking its temporary leave, hoping to reconstruct the world according to their own, more favorable terms.

Over supper, the group gathers and shares their ideas: outlines, pieces of dialogue, an inspiring poem they’ve loved since childhood. And while Jamie is generous with his advice, he holds his notebooks against his chest. Enraptured by this warm aloofness (for is it not the way of all great wordsmiths?), the others whisper behind their palms, “Have you read Fraser’s story?” Into napkins, “No, have you?”

But among the fifteen guests, only one has read Jamie’s story—and tonight, Jamie waits for her inside his cabin. His latest draft is fanned around him, some sections highlighted and others slashed. They are not unlike Claire’s old strike-throughs, which had snipped the would-be Dalhousie and eventually, Jamie’s own name, from her life (a reclamation of Beauchamp, a transformation to Randall). Among Jamie’s scribbles are his friend’s edits, which are much more forgiving, much less forceful than the lines of his own red pen. Each comment reads like a bashful request: “More clarity?”, “Switch the verb here?”, “Too many adjectives?” as if she needs permission to occupy the margins. Should I really be reading this?, she seems to say, the bare-backed rawness making her squirm.

But she is helping him, his friend. And so she sees Jamie’s drafts before John, his agent, and before Fergus, his assistant and most loyal advocate. With each comment, she brings him closer to understanding, to the better beginning, middle and end. Note by note, to the way his story (their story, for it can never be Jamie’s alone) should be. All rhymes and logic, had it not veered off-course.

Is Alexander too cold here? Shouldn’t he say something? (He should have.)

It seems out of character for Alexander to never visit his daughter’s grave? (Grief carves cowards out of heroes.)

Shouldn’t he try to win Elizabeth back? (God, yes. He should have tried harder.)

The knock comes three minutes later, as expected.

“Hello?”

“Door’s unlocked.”

“Oh!” A muffled apology, embarrassment for the delay. “Sorry,” the visitor says. “It’s late. Didna ken if ye still wanted to talk or not. I brought—well, I finished reading your last chapter.”

And now another player enters this fifth act, tip-toes quietly onto the stage. Only a slip of a thing in the cabin’s doorway, cheeks pinked by the storm’s sharp nip. She is Jamie’s friend-slash-critique partner, and even her entrance is punctuated by a question mark. The score of owl, pine, hawk and hunter swells, buffeted now by new notes: the crack of chapped lips smiling, the anxious shuffle of papers, and—

“Dinna fash, I couldna sleep anyways,” Jamie assures her. “Did ye like it, though? The new ending?”

His friend inhales sharply, stealing as much oxygen as the room will allow. Everything—the threadbare futon, the TV’s antennae, the welcome mat and Jamie’s body—bends towards some invisible presence. A ghost between between all.

“It was…a bit different from the last one.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘Nay, I didna like it.’”

She looks shyly at the ground, one foot treading nervous circles into the planks.

“It was a bit too sentimental is all. After everything. All that time and silence…D’ye really think Alex and Lizzie could make it?”

Her words are a blow to Jamie’s stomach, and the pages are fire in his hands. He puts them down, wants to thrust himself under a blanket of snow to freeze the flames.

“In a fairy tale, maybe, but life isna a fairy tale. And d’ye no want to write truths?” She looks up, and her eyes gore him. “This story isna a fairy tale either, Jamie. Yours never are.”

“Aye…aye, I s’pose they’re not,” he replies, thinking of his other novels and short stories, essays and poems. Each accepted by John’s gimlet eye, only to meet their end in a publisher’s slush pile. (“Too dark, too wallowing,” an editor once wrote.)  

“Give it another go. I’ll help ye tomorrow, if ye’d like,” his friend offers. “Three days left. I reckon we’ve time to sort the kinks, right the wrongs.” (Three days will never be enough for Jamie’s wrongs.)

“I’d appreciate that, lass. Verra much.”

His friend looks behind her and at the moon, a shy sickle in the sky. It draws her toward the door and the snow-covered mountainside.

“Weel, it’s a long walk back,” she says. “Wanted to give ye that before the morning, so I guess I’ll just…”

“Will ye stay with me tonight?” Jamie blurts. And he hates himself for saying this, the way it sounds outside his mouth and inside his cabin, landing on the unmade bed. Its despair makes it ugly. But.

But if his friend stays, Jamie thinks, perhaps the emptiness will leave. If his friend stays, perhaps his story will correct itself, falling into its natural rhythm, by the force of whatever solace she can give him.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he continues, “and I…I dinna want to be alone.”

She pauses, thinks it over before saying, “Okay. Just for a bit?” (Just for a bit? Another loaded question, and one he doesn’t want to answer.)

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, and Mary McNab removes her coat.

____

Long before daybreak, Jamie wakes. He gathers his draft, made complete by that final failing chapter, into a single stack. He retrieves a box from his suitcase, which is swathed in his old holiday sweater, and it speaks to him. A quiet loudness, like the murmur of the Grampians. You mean your lager-stained pullover? With the Santa looks that looks like he’s got vomit in his beard?

Inside the box is a gift—a vase, azure porcelain—though Jamie has no plans to send it across the Atlantic, to the Boston apartment where his ex-wife kisses another man. No. This vase will stay with Jamie, forever hidden on the high shelf of a closet, or exiled to the back corner of a desk drawer. Like his grief, it is something that he owns—this small cut from a cloth of unraveled dreams—to be kept and locked safely away. There, there, always there. All fancy people have vases.

Jamie wraps the box with his manuscript. One by one, he folds the pages over and under, seals the edges with tape to form an inch-thick layer. So much history around this small, delicate thing—their story, with the ending Jamie cannot use and which cannot be the truth. At last, he cuts the string of wool, which still drips from his sweater after all these years, and it rasps, Do we have time? Of course we do.

Finally, Jamie weeps—a mournful sound that joins the chorus of this great, big mountain—and ties a frayed, red bow.

____

(Jamie does not realize that Mary watches him from the bed. “Tell me about her,” she wants to say—for once a statement and not a question—but she does not. Instead, she calls to Jamie, presses her goosefleshed nakedness to his. And as they move together, slow but unfeeling, she pretends she is a vessel. Closes her eyes. Makes room for the ghost. I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp.)

____

Here, the idea of a writer’s retreat, the introduction, and the parentheticals (although those are also inspired by one of my favorite authors Kate Atkinson) are my lame attempts at trying to be Lauren Groff. Actually, the next handful of chapters are the result of my obsession with her novel Fates and Furies—which you should absolutely go read, right now.

One of my favorite parts about writing a modern AU is finding ways to fit in canon characters or references. I started this chapter having no idea who Jamie’s critique partner was, but it very quickly came together once there was a remote cabin, Jamie inside it, and a woman coming to visit him. I hope the reveal is at least somewhat...fun? The vase is also obviously a nod to Outlander, and, well, I’m assuming y’all caught on to Jamie’s character names (a bit on the nose, lmao).

I’m not crazy about this introduction (it’s...a bit much...but it’s meant to tie into the introduction of Chapter 1), but the final paragraph from Mary’s POV is actually one of my favorite paragraphs in the whole fic.

I also think I wrote this during a snowstorm, wheeeee!

[itswildwinters]

Ask for writers

Thank you @theisolatedlily and @soldouthaz for tagging me, I really appreciate it! This lovely tag was created by @soldouthaz, which I think is brilliant to get to know other writers!! I love it, so thank you Sarah!

This is quite long, but I still hope it’s entertaining!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted: I’ve always wanted to write. I know that I only began publishing this year (January 2020) but years back, I always would open up a blank document and just... write. Lack of confidence and language barriers (I wanted to write in English, but it isn’t my first language and I only became fluent three years ago) have made it so that I would never finish a story. I think we all had our wattpad moment but even on there I would never really publish because the platform just wasn’t right. But then I discovered ao3, where I’d read fics and also improve my English. Then I found out about fests, and I decided to participate in one last year (2019 BLFF) and my first fic then came out! 

And ever since, I’ve been able to write and finish what I start. It’s as if the lock that had been put to block my creativity had been destroyed; posting my first completed fic has acted as a turning point. I was extremely nervous when I first posted, still am, but now I have this need to write and I love sharing what I write and ever since I became a writer, my life’s been a lot better!

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?: I switch between Louis’ POV, or Harry’s POV depending on the story; I tend to sprinkle a bit of myself in the characters I write, but then again they’re also completely different from me! I’ve never based a character completely on myself, which I find quite boring (haha); sometime unconsciously, I’d write a character based on someone I knew. I think some examples on how my characters can look a bit like me, is Hamlet in a sea of mist which has gotten his clear-headedness from me; or in my Murder Mystery fic, the way I describe Louis’ fear is heavily based on how I feel whenever I’m faced with something that makes me uncomfortable.

3. where do you often find inspiration?: art (paintings, music), books, quotes, poems and movies!

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?: having so much free time on my hands has definitely helped; I would seek refuge within my stories, to spice up quarantine!

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence? I love love love playing classical music (Chopin, Saint-Saens, Debussy, Yiruma, Einaudi, Faulkner, Schumann, Tchaikovsky, Mozart to name a few) while writing. I can’t write when it’s anything else. But I can also write when there’s nothing; hearing the rhythmic clicking sound of the keyboard as I press over its keys can be relaxing to me.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?: hm in my writing I guess I tend to write very long sentences, and also I still do grammar mistakes. I hope to work on those points. I also find the way I space my fics very annoying (which is why I’ve begun making outlines!).

7. describe your ideal writing setup: in a couch or a bed with several pillows piled up behind my back, classical music in my ears and a steaming cup of tea next to me.

8. favorite time of day to write?: I love writing when it’s very early, usually after I’ve woken up and freshened up. I don’t like writing when it’s too late because I’m not a night owl; rather an early bird. I especially love when I write and it’s still dark outside, then slowly dawn breaks in and the sky becomes tainted in warm hues of orange, yellow and sometimes even purple and pink.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?: I love writing fantasy, horror, suspense, action, thrillers. Especially angst and hurt/comfort, as well as slow burn. I’d like in the future to explore sci-fi and magical realism!

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it? I haven’t suffered from writer block so far, which I’m glad!!

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult? writing is the easiest, but outlining (as in, coming up with plot ideas) is quite difficult for me. Also dialogues can be a bit of a problem to me.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable): I just make them up in my mind, and create them when they’re necessary to the story, giving them personality traits that will help the story develop.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word? it’s hard to choose cause I have several but favourite: petrichor and least favourite: big

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?: I am proud of the way I describe, which allows me to really settle the story in its verse. I love describing, giving importance to the ordinary. Also feelings; I love describing them and exploring how I can translate them into words, so that the reader can feel them. But I have to work on my dialogues methinks.

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?: those who from the Pit of Hell, roam to seek their prey on earth. I’ve always wanted to begin writing thrillers/Murder mystery fics and with that one I think I managed to? I had read an article on forensic medicine back in the 19th century and it sparked this fic’s plot!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?: Arial, 11pt, single spaced

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?: I don’t know if this can be considered as a typo but I tend to repeat, within a paragraph, A LOT my character’s name instead of using pronouns. This is because I’m afraid of confusion when another character arrives in the scene.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?: I don’t know if I understood the question properly, but yes? When I use Louis or Harry in my fics, they’re completely different from real-Louis or real-Harry; they’re my characters, they only have the same names, but their personality reflects in nothing real-life Harry and Louis. 

I think to answer this better: I do separate fic writing from fandom, but I still think that fanfics are important to a fandom; I haven’t heard of a fandom without fanfics! Fanfics spice up fandoms, I reckon, they’re important to bring people together.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?: Angst is my favourite thing to write, as well as fear. And I struggle with writing humour, I’m not a funny person to be honest

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?: I always hope they like my writing and the plot, also the way I portray my characters. I want my readers to feel the writing, and the story in general. I just want my readers to truly enjoy what they read from me <3

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?: I was told to always write very specifically and to fit my writing into a mould — don’t write ‘he’s’ but ‘he is’, or write shorter sentences, or stop describing so much. But in the end, there isn’t one way of writing — write the way you want.

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?: only one? ahhh this is hard! But I’d love to see those who from the Pit of Hell, roam to seek their prey on earth be turned into a movie. There are also a couple of wips that I could see on-screen but I’ll stick to that!

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?: chronologically. Haven’t explored anachronies (analepsis/prolepsis) at all, but I might soon!

24. how do you handle criticism?: really well!! As long as they’re constructive and not mean, I love hearing what people think. Criticism is the best way for me, a person whose first person is not English, to improve!

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?: DO IT!! Honestly, don’t tell yourself, ‘I’m not good enough’. Just do it. Open a blank document and write your heart away, even if it’s not a story; just begin it. Explore your writing style, then maybe try to mould it into a plot. Writing is not limited to a certain category of people; it’s not just for those who can write. Writing is for everyone, and like most things, one must begin before improving (practice makes perfect!!) <3

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?: anything!!! Just the fact someone clicked on my story, read it, and took time to leave a comment — just that is enough to make my heart bursts with joy. I am so so grateful to every single person who’s ever read something from me.

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?: The verse I’m talking about is still a wip, but the siren/mermaid one that I’m currently building! I’d love to live in it.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?: Anything, really, my inbox is open to anyone and for everything! I love discussing books, movies and poetry as well as quotes, and maybe I wish people would come forth to ask me more about my fics or my wips, if they have any inquiries! Or I’d love to write drabbles! 

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?: It has made my life so, so much better. Writing has stitched up a gaping hole in my chest. It’s permitted me to improve in English, has made me more confident and has allowed my creativity to flow. I just... I love writing so much. It has also allowed me to meet some incredible people on tumblr, which I’m very grateful for!!

30. why do you write?: for many reasons; to spice up my life, to help me develop my creativity, and because I love it. I’ve always wanted to be a writer.

boost yourself + tags!

1a. share the last sentence you wrote:

The words echo around his head and collide with his temples like truncheon blows.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about:

I’m excited for all of them, but I’ll go with my third BLFF fic. It’s very angsty, post-war, ABO, exes to lovers. It tackles heavy topics, it’s such an emotional fic. I’m so so excited for her (she comes out in January).

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of: 

This is hard. But I’ll go with one from in a sea of mist cause the way Louis answers Harry... I love it:

“I feel like you want to kill me,” he pants out, using his right arm to hold himself up while his other hand comes up to rub at his burning cheek and nose, where Louis had hit him with the sole of his shoe.

“Before our date? No, never,” Louis blinks sweetly, chuckling and climbing up as Harry smiles to himself.

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s): I will do only those that are already published:

best first lines are from the hope that warbles in my fluttering breast: There, against the window, was stuck millions of snowflakes, their see-through quality no more as they huddled together, pushed against hard surfaces by the merciless wind. 

best last lines are from in a sea of mist: It takes a while for Harry to go to sleep, elation pumping through his veins so fast that the previous tiredness he felt has flown out of the window. But when he finally focuses on Louis’ heavened out breathing, and when he breathes in Louis’ natural perfume that always acts as an ambrosia over him, he manages to close his eyes, and for the first time in a while, he dreams of a future that’s devoid of any darkness.

5a. link the last fic you read: currently reading sweet like honey by @falsegoodnight and Spoonful of Sugar by @zanniscaramouche and they’re absolutely amazing!

6a. link the last work you published: in a sea of mist

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable): tomlinvelvet

8a. someone that inspires you: Louis <3 his music and just his personality overall leaves so much scope for the imagination. There are also so many writers (both non-fanfic writers and fanfic writers) that inspire me daily.

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year: even the best laid plans and just a flicker in the dark both by @falsegoodnight as well as eyes off you by @soldouthaz ... these fics are just so amazing, everything about them is top tier

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag! @falsegoodnight @scrunchyharry @hadestyles @mercurial-madhouse @youreyesonlarry @raspberryoatss @jacaranda-bloom @soldouthaz @behisoneandonly @vintageumbroshirt @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @lougendarey @quelquesetoiles <3 no pressure ofc!

[readingaccountability]

snow crash - neal stephenson

my playlist (because of The Way That I Am)

final thoughts:

okay, im going to be honest right out of the gate- i cant decide whether this is a book id recommend or not. it was really fun for the most part, but personally there was a lot more exposition than id like. the early portions of the novel have exposition which feels completely fair, mostly things relating to worldbuilding. stephenson creates his own vision of future america, and some places online referred to it as cyberpunk, and some as post-cyberpunk. id be more in the latter camp, mostly due to the way he plays with tropes, leaving the reader unsure of which will be subverted and which wont.

the use of language was really fun, and i enjoyed the worldbuilding a lot. his vision of a futuristic capitalistic earth feels surreal in its immediacy and recognizability. the back jacket blurb ends with "a future america so bizarre, so outrageous, you'll recognize it immediately." which, yeah. a texan info-tech magnate? two competing corporations owning the highway system? suburban city-states? this was another enjoyable thing- everything was colorfully named, and names treated totally normally, which kind of poked fun at how we have everyday things named very ludicrously and for the most part we are totally blind to it.

one aspect i really enjoyed was that the author often doesn't make certain things clear to the audience, until he does, and then it becomes necessary to reassess the entire story and setting. this goes to underscore the theme of the importance of information and the ways we take it in and perceive the world based upon it. for example, we don't learn that y.t. is fifteen until maybe 75 pages in, at which point a lot makes sense in retrospect. the same thing occurs in the worldbuilding, as suddenly a detail is given in passing and the reader must incorporate it into the setting, which by default we assume to be similar in many ways to our idea of america. it keeps the reader on their toes as well as furthering the worldbuilding. for the most part, the tech stuff didnt feel outdated to me, despite being a future projected out from '92.

however, aspects of the book are definitely very 1992. id put these into two camps: the first, being that the book does at different times use slurs. the main character is black and asian, the n word is used a few times by racist side-character/antagonist types, as are a few other racial slurs. there was also the occasional usage of the r slur, within the narrative prose itself, rather than usage as an insult within dialogue.

the protagonist, who is named, unfortunately, hiro protagonist, is a great character and felt very fleshed out to me, though at times he reminded me more of dirk strider than normally would be ideal. (its obvious that stephenson and andrew hussie are of a similar type of writer, and play with similar tropes, lmao.) hiro is a man of many worlds. he seems to shift between them easily, though never fully existing in any of them. this is reflected in his background, both in his biracial identity and in having been raised on a myriad of army bases. this is layered further in his fluidity in interacting with both reality and the metaverse, yet remaining slightly, consistently aloof. fascinatingly the first moment i sensed this drop was when we meet juanita- aka where his real and meta realities coincide. the description of them as the adam and eve of the metaverse is both insanely romantic and thematically key (good god i wish we had more than like, two conversations between them). juanita designed the facial component to metaverse avatars, doing the majority of this work when the two were together, and hiro can see echoes of both their facial tics in the face of every avatar in the metaverse. in a way, by having done this work juanita is positioned by the narrative as one of the gods of this digital realm. she is also hiro's call to action, being aware of the coming trouble and alerting him to it, as well as connecting him to the informational database he needs to prepare.

y.t., the secondary protagonist, fucking ruled. i loved that she was just a fifteen year old punkass kid whose mom doesnt know how crazy this part time job is. y.t. being worried about her mom was a great thread throughout, and a really good balance to how obviously independent y.t. is. i do wish there had been a chance to explain more about her background (she has a dad who left who is mentioned in a throwaway sentence, and a boyfriend who is mentioned near the beginning but never again.) i really enjoyed how obviously hyperaware y.t. was at all times about her own place within the insanities of the setting, while also consistently writing her as a teen maybe in way too deep who thinks about things in typically teenage ways. but like, that wasn't ever held against her? the narrative meets her where she is. it was honestly awesome. HOWEVER,

i absolutely hated the raven and y.t. scenes. how creepy!!! he basically statutory rapes her!!! we know hes at least late 20s early 30s, because hes the same age as hiro. if this sort of content is upsetting to read for you, i definitely do NOT recommend this book. (if you want to avoid reading these bits: ch 47 y.t. meets raven, ch 50 they are in a bar eating, ch 52 things happen that result in y.t.'s anti-assault device activating- she did not activate it on purpose, but forgot it was there- and raven is knocked out.)

please PLEASE dont take any of the following analysis as like, trying to be apologetic towards this scenes. because again they were awful and hard to get through and really gross. but im also cognizant that the author was obviously trying to convey something by making the choice, like the way it was written is obviously not condoning this sort of thing.

i think maybe what stephenson was trying to get at with that, was that we see hiro internally negate any potential for anything untoward with y.t. basically immediately, since he kind of senses that she might have a small crush on him (though this doesnt last more than a fleeting moment, especially from her perspective). vs raven, whose 'poor impulse control' warning tattoo eventually elicits a sarcastic remark from hiro after he finds out raven and y.t. were "a thing". i really dont think hiro knew how far it went? like it was just suuuper weird, but i figured it was meant narratively to 1. execute the chekovs gun of y.t.'s anti-assault device, 2. contrast hiro and raven (especially considering the bike-racing argument where theyre telling the story together, which is supposed to parallel them, while contrasting the differences in how they ended up?), and 3. just to get raven unconscious, i guess. but good god it was weird and i hated every second of it, why couldnt the device have like, activated way earlier?? gah. fucking upsetting. moving past that!

honestly i was really frustrated by how little screentime juanita got, because the way she was introduced was so fucking interesting and then shes mostly off doing her own thing. the bits of explanation she gives at the end about what she was up to on the raft are so sparse and im like damn, can we get a little bit of her pov in here? please? that would have ruled. additionally, shes supposed to be hiros love interest, but we see so little of them interacting outside her intro scenes. a huge portion of why hiro is getting into the sumerian mythology is literally framed as something that will help him understand juanita, but we dont get to see him talk to her about it barely at all.

the supporting characters were quite fun, i particularly liked the librarian. big surprise, i liked the overly literal ai information-dispensor, lmfao. watching him and hiro interact reminded me SO hard of geordi laforge having honest to god conversations with the computer where he tries to coax information out of it, aka one of my favorite little aspects of tng.

and lastly, the major plot themes themselves. i adore the way stephenson approached action, it was very entertaining. usually i cant really visualize action scenes written out, but his use of language was really really effective and engaging. the plot itself was absolutely fascinating, though i found the premise pretty contrived. which isnt bad in itself, i was fully suspending my disbelief until the last hundred pages or so. which for a 550+ page book, isnt too bad.

i did like the approach of linking the ancient to the modern, that is always really neat. and i think ultimately stephenson did it in an interesting way, not how i would have done it, but definitely interesting! creating these ideas about information infrastructures, and there being words that can access those and be used to control people, was wild. not sure if i agree about the equating of religion to a virus, though he did specifically establish that it was more the approach to religion, than religion itself. (maybe if juanita had been more goddamn present in the narrative that could have been elaborated on a little more. literally her perspective would have been perfect in balancing that out!!)

ultimately what did me in was the very very very long winded MONOLOGUE where hiro re-explained the whole premise, in ways that didnt really neatly organize into a cohesive argument. a lot of the scenes where hiro talks to the librarian, which are interspersed throughout the book, are really exposition heavy, because stephenson is rooting his ideas in historical concepts that need to be explained to both hiro and the audience. and i thought all that was fine, because it was a conversation where hiro was grappling with the information, and he was figuring it out along with the reader, and most importantly it was a conversation between him and the librarian computer program.

howeverrr later on we get a full rehash of all that, where hiro makes clear some stuff that was just implied for the reader, and hes literally just telling these important men whats up in this big long monologue. utterly worthless. i kept reading it and going YEAH, we KNOW, we know this we know this. and the important men barely interjected. it added basically nothing to our understanding of the situation, other than reframing it. but everything added was already an implicit thing, and didnt really need to be said again.

the resolution to the book was stellar, the last 30-40 pages, once hiro is onto the raft, were great. ultimately after reading and giving some time to digest it, i think it was a solidly great book with a few big drawbacks near the end, but which dont carry through and sully the ending.