#but i'm not exactly planning to revisit the story

[uhuraprime]

Does anyone else have any old fics they wrote like a decade ago that they're not super proud of but also deleting/orphaning them feels... wrong? It's like throwing away your childhood drawings. You might want to look back on it at some point, even if they're 'cringe' to you.

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter ❤

SIX EIGHT

SEVEN

Before Sam and Jacob could get into a physical fight, you dragged Jacob out of Sam's line of sight. Even though you're mad at Jacob, them fighting would be terrible.

"What exactly was your plan when you told Sam I was in your pack?" you ask while driving Jacob to his house, as he sits impatiently, frustrated that he couldn't fight Uley.

"Well, a thank you would be the right thing for you to say to me. I saved your ass from having to commit to declaring war on Uley's pack when up until now you had no support," Jacob says with a certain arrogance and confidence. After glancing at you, he laughs. You can only imagine that he finds it amusing to irritate you.

"Getting involved in my problems isn't your job, Black. You made it clear you didn’t want me here, so what's the reason for rescuing me? Did you get a guilty conscience after taking Bella's side?" you say while trying to keep your focus on the road. Jacob lets out a loud sigh, then looks at you. You ignore it while driving but can feel his gaze on you.

"I didn't take Bella's side. Or maybe I did. I acted on impulse and took out my frustration on you. But you can't tell me you don't think all this shit is messed up. Before you showed up, Bella told me that Edward wanted to marry her. Maybe even thought about turning her into a cold-skinned monster. Now, not only did he ask for a break from her, but he also brought you into their side. Tell me you wouldn't be pissed if you were in my place?" Jacob says, and you almost understand him. But you're too hurt to be completely sympathetic.

"He didn't take me to their side, Jacob. The truth is, I don't have a side. Because those who should be on my side, for being like me, prefer to make me feel like a mistake. And the Cullens aren't much different. My intention was never to be a problem, but now I want to make my own decisions without thinking about the consequences. I've been pushing Edward away for a long time. Trying not to make anyone unhappy. I've chosen my family over him more than once. Now, the one I always considered family is treating me like a burden. Whether you like it or not, you're also responsible for that. But I'm truly sorry for Bella." You say as you approach the Black house, and when you finally arrive, the tension in your car could not be higher.

"Your life would be simpler if you were with me, you know that, right?" Jacob says, removing his seatbelt and turning in the passenger seat to look at you. You take off your seatbelt as well and turn to look at him. Jacob's hands move to your face as he gently caresses your cheeks.

"It would be. But we could never have a true happy ending if I spent my life thinking about what it would have been like to give Edward a chance. It wouldn't be fair to you. So don't think that I'm choosing Edward; just as he's not choosing me. We're both just trying to level the situation," you say while looking gently into Jacob's eyes. You wish he understood that you don't want to hurt him or Bella.

"This situation seems too painful. And I know Bella will be waiting for Edward at the end of the day, because they love each other. But maybe I'm not waiting for you. In any case, I was serious when I said I want you in my pack. Even if we don't have a romantic relationship, I'm your friend. And you're probably my best friend. That won't change, if it's up to me." Your eyes meet Jacob's as you feel that this conversation has taken a different but appropriate turn.

"I accept. But know that if you ever offend or humiliate me, I'll take you down myself." You try to sound threatening, but Jacob doesn't seem to believe you. He kisses your forehead and then leaves as if there's nothing more to say. As you watch him walk away, you feel that this moment you've shared has brought a new closeness to your relationship.

You drive again to the Cullens' house, this time to inform Edward about meeting with Sam. As you go, you think about where you could spend some time. Then you remember that your old house still exists. Maybe you can stay there if you can handle being haunted by the memories. When you park in front of the Cullens' house, Edward is already waiting for you. He approaches your car and sits in the passenger seat, looking at you. If a look could speak, Edward's would say, "I missed you." You can respond to that because, honestly, you missed him too. You unbuckle your seatbelt and then pull Edward's face toward you. Instantly, your lips meet his. It's a desperate yet calm act as you feel the kiss deepen, Edward's dominance increasing as he gently presses your head against the car door. Your hands slide around his neck, lightly tugging at his hair.

"I'll go with you," Edward whispers against your lips as you break the kiss. You look at him somewhat angrily; he obviously read your mind. But then he gives you a peck on the lips, as if trying to calm you.

"You're going to abandon your home to go to the house of the man who would kill us both if he knew we were together?" you ask, as you move away from Edward a bit. He smiles briefly as he holds your hands gently.

"First, I won't be abandoning my home, just extending it. And your father hated me, but he loved you. If I can keep you company, I think he might tolerate me," Edward says, and you give a weak laugh. Then you remember you need to talk about the conversation with Jacob.

"The conversation with Sam was almost as bad as it could be. And because of that, I ended up agreeing to become a member of Jacob's pack. And you can't react negatively to this news because the other option was going to war with Uley without any support. At least now I have his pack." You say, and Edward seems bothered. He turns to look straight ahead, while you watch him.

"You would never be alone. I will always be with you, you know that. But I understand why you did it, just like I understand that you're upset about earlier today. I think it's still too soon for my family to understand what's going on between us." Edward says, turning back to look at you. You give him a kiss on the cheek for understanding so well. Then you catch a hint of feminine perfume on him.

"Why were you waiting for me out here, Edward?" you ask, staring at him, who seems to be hiding something from you.

"It’s not what you think. Bella is inside. We were trying to put an end to our story peacefully, but my family thought it was a reconciliation and invited her for dinner," Edward says, defending himself, that idiot. You look at him seriously.

"Go back to your dinner, Cullen. I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me this. I must be a real fool to you." You say, then get out of the car to open the door for Edward. You’re definitely not going to take him with you.

"Y/N, let me explain…" he says, and then you look at him with anger. As if you knew that a little more and you would drag him out of the car, he gets out of the car, facing you.

"Save your explanations for Bella, who’s inside waiting for you. Goodbye, Edward." You say angrily, slamming the car door and then getting into your car to drive away. You don't expect him to say anything, simply driving away at a high speed. All you can think is how pathetic you are. Flashbacks of the recent events play in your mind like a movie. You're so angry that you don't even notice when a person appears in the middle of the road. Your car flips over as you try to swerve to avoid hitting the person in front of you, a pale-skinned red-haired woman. You feel a sharp pain in your stomach, your vision blurring and the sound of a female voice saying, "Tell Edward I said hello." Then everything goes dark as you feel your life slipping away.

[bomberqueen17]

The Witch King

This is not like, a coherent review or anything.

Yesterday I was just like possessed with anxiety nonstop the whole day and everything I did seemed to make it worse and i just like spun my wheels and I got some things done but mostly felt worse and worse and more and more stressed, due partly to external circumstances but largely, i think, to nothing in particular. And finally after dinner I was sitting on the couch comfortably and realized you know what, fuck it, I am not going to "try to write" and wind up refreshing tumblr and chatting on discord all night, not while I'm already fretting and stewing like this, i'm going to be miserable and probably get in a fight or something and i don't want that. Fuck it. So I went to the tab I already had open in my browser, which I'd had open for weeks but the time was never right, and I bought the kindle version of Witch King and read it right there in my browser, the whole way through, did not click away or put it down or move or do anything else, and you know what it was fantastic.

I'd read a preview and been like hm i don't know what this is about and read a couple of amazon reviews that were like this was really confusing, some of which concluded so i didn't like it and some of which concluded so i super liked it, and like, I've been a fan of Martha Wells since she put the Element of Fire up for free chapter by chapter on her Livejournal when the rights reverted to her in like 2006 or so, so I knew what I was going to get and also knew that I would not particularly know exactly what I was going to get until I got it, and I also knew I was going to enjoy the ride, but I hadn't wanted to read it in stolen or exhausted moments lest the "this is confusing" bits prove too much.

In the end I found it not in the slightest bit confusing, it was a very straightforward interspersed flashbacks storytelling technique that i thought suited the story beautifully (not to be spoilery but we join a character in medias res with an action scene and it's him trying to figure out who has betrayed him in a complicated political scenario, and in the process of unspooling this he has to revisit the site of where the complicated political scenario was first set up, some sixty (?) years earlier, so he's retracing his own steps and it's really well done I think, introducing new bits of history right as they're relevant to the current storyline-- and just fantastically done, not at all forced, completely natural and compelling, and no the reader isn't told anything they don't need to know but you do get everthing you need to know, there's no unneccessary coyness at all).

So anyway i loved that, and I hope there's a sequel planned but it stands alone just fine if not, I'm already figuring i'll alternate my rereads and do every other chapter each time, so I can do All The Backstory first, then All The Current Timeline story, and that's such a fun way to eke out many many many rereads of a story that like all of Wells' works I will reread until I have chunks of them memorized (anyone who has read my works surely has found whole undigested bits of hers bobbing around in there because I do this so much; I found the phrase weary past bearing in something of mine the other day and was like oh that's moon when ember first shows up i stole that whole emotion wholesale out of the third raksura book yes i did).

Little side notes: Love the aroace qpr vibes with Kai and Zeide, also sort of enjoy the lowkey genderfuckery that comes with a demon who has his own gender then inhabiting bodies that had different genders. Great magic system too, and I love that we first get introduced to how Kai's pain magic works as a like totally fait accompli chunk of didactic worldbuilding and then in a later chapter we get to see the flashback of him inventing it and understand why it works the way it does, that was also so well-wrapped-up.

Anyway-- Definitely recommend this one but probably it is best if you can do it like I did, in one big binge-read. It took me probably three hours and I was trying hard not to read it too fast.

Yeah. Anyway. People assume I'm a big reader. I was, as a kid. I am not now. This is the first new book I've read since probably the spring sometime. I don't casually read things i only read them if I'm going to add them to my Pantheon of Rereads, and that goes for fic too mostly.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Has anyone asked for any proposal details for Break yet? It’s so fun to revisit all of your stories!

Hello, Anon! I'm so sorry it took me this long to get to this one. I've actually had this in my drafts for literally years but it never felt quite right, so I didn't post it. I'm so glad you asked for it, though. It gave me the kick I needed to revisit it and figure out what was wrong. Hope you enjoy! And also, here's a link to the last chapter of Break, since it kind of helps to remember what happened in it for this to make sense.

<3 kdnfb

He thought about doing it on the twenty-third. That’d be exactly four months. July twenty-third. But she’d be expecting that, and a part of him still wants it to be a surprise. Well, not a surprise, but spontaneous. At least seemingly so. Hard to be spontaneous when they not only set a deadline of sorts, but he’s also practiced what he’d say in front of the mirror when she’s not home and has planned the evening nearly to the minute.

Wanting to catch her at least a little unguarded, so he can see her real reaction, he decides to ask her on the twenty-fourth. Just late enough to make her wonder, but not enough to make her think he’s forgotten.

Only, she calls him at work over her lunch break on the twenty-fourth and spends fifteen minutes venting about her boss being an inconsiderate, drunk dickhead. Not keen on the idea of proposing to an angry Katniss, Peeta decides it can wait one more day.

The next day, he leaves work a little early to prepare, but when he walks through the door of their apartment, he’s greeted by laughter. When the door shuts behind him, announcing his presence, Katniss and Prim call out a cheerful greeting to him from the couch before returning to their whatever show they’ve clearly just started to marathon. No big deal. He adjusts, making dinner for the two girls and staying out of their way, keeping a smile on his face and not fretting over the ring still sitting in his bottom drawer, buried under his jeans. He can wait until Prim’s surprise visit is over.

Two days later, when Prim has finally left, Katniss herself delays his plans. He inserts his key when he returns home that afternoon, but before he can turn it, the door flies open and Katniss yanks him into the apartment by his tie. She doesn’t even undress him all the way, just unzips his pants, pushes them and his shorts down enough to free his cock, and shoves him down onto the first chair they come to in their living room. 

“Katniss, what—“ he doesn’t get to finish his question because she climbs on top of him, pulling the skirt of her filmy sundress up as she straddles him. He notices that she’s not wearing any panties. “Holy shit.”

He gasps as he feels her wet lips caressing over his cock. Her mouth descends on his and he grips the arms of the chair for a second, until he can’t keep his hands off her any longer and grips her hips instead, holding her steady as she rocks her body back and forth, coating him with her arousal.

He’s hard in seconds, aroused and dazed enough to go along with it when she sinks down on top of him and starts moving. Slow at first, her knees jutting up and her thighs working hard enough to quiver. He cups her cheek in one hand and kisses her softly, drinking down her throaty moans and gentle sighs.

Peeta’s heart aches with how beautiful she is when she lifts her head and looks down at him, her gray eyes like molten silver, overflowing with love and need. He whispers to her the truth, about how incredible it feels being inside her. Joined to her. Feeling her orgasms unfold around his cock. 

Something he says snaps her loose, though, because she whimpers his name and then bites her lip. Bucks her hips wildly. She curses loudly and digs her nails into his shoulders. She throws her head back on a tortured groan when he slides his thumb down in between her lips until its wet, then drags his touch up to her clit. She comes within minutes, the powerful clench of her walls enough to milk his own release from him. 

When she collapses onto his chest, moaning about how glad she is that their house guest is finally gone, Peeta figures now isn’t the time to propose. Not with his semen and her release mingling together and seeping from her body, soaking his shorts and his suit pants. He probably could, but he wants his proposal to be clear. 

Their relationship may have gone from friendship to sex to love on the surface -- he’d always been in love with her, long before that first game of strip pool -- but he’ll be damned if she has any reason to think he proposed to her because he was stupid with sex.

Besides, Katniss doesn’t seem to notice or care that their arbitrary deadline from their bet over four months ago has come and gone without Peeta asking her to marry him. Not when they spend it naked and grinding against nearly every flat surface and a few not so flat surfaces in their apartment. After that, there’s no chance to propose, since they fall asleep, tangled in sheets and one another’s arms.

But today, he is determined. He’s going to ask her. And hope to everything sacred to them both that she hasn’t changed her mind. She would never have sunk that eight ball if she didn’t want him to ask. It’s part of why he distracted her the night of their game. To give her a way out of her impulsive wager if she wanted it. But she hadn’t. She deliberately walked out the next morning, smirked at him, and took her shot, all but declaring to him that she wanted him to propose to her.

And while Katniss might be many things, he’s never known her to be deliberately cruel. If she wants him to ask, it means she wants to say Yes. Knowing the probable outcome does nothing to soothe his nerves as he leaves work early to get the dinner started. 

He’s just about got everything ready to go, except the flower petals he’d planned on scattering over the floor, when Katniss opens the door and calls out to him that whatever he’s cooking smells amazing. Peeta wipes his palms on his slacks. Well, he thinks, the flower petals would’ve probably been too much. Katniss doesn’t care for ostentatiousness.

“Ready in five minutes,” he tells her as she kisses his cheek and then disappears into their room to change out of her work clothes. While she’s doing that, he serves up the dishes and lights the candles.

When she emerges, dressed in maddeningly short cotton shorts and one of his ratty old college t-shirts, his heart sinks a little and he rethinks his plan. No girl wants to be proposed to in loungewear, do they? She smiles at the setup, the candlelight glinting off her irises, turning them a darker mercury lit from within, and he’s momentarily stunned by how beautiful she is.

“What’s all this for?” she asks, sliding into her seat that he holds out for her at the table and pulling her legs up to cross them on the chair.

“Just because,” he says nonchalantly and sits beside her. He’s not even settled before she’s begun eating, and he smiles at the relish with which she consumes the food. Katniss eating is one of the most pleasurable and erotic things he’s witnessed. The way she savors every bite and moans around both new and favorite flavors alike.

His cock twitches to life, and he flushes, mentally scolding himself for his unchecked lust. But it’s not just lust. They share small glances and talk over the meal. She snorts once when he makes her laugh, claps her hands with glee when he serves dessert, and in the soft glow of the candle light Peeta relaxes. This is who they are, after all, and ratty t-shirt or not, he wants more than anything for his proposal to reflect who they are to each other.

“Katniss,” he says, twining their fingers together when she puts down her fork and licks the last of her dessert from her lips. She lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles. The gesture so tender and soft that he’s momentarily rendered speechless.

“Dinner was incredible. You must’ve worked so hard on it. Wait here while I clean up?” she murmurs.

All he can do is nod and let go of her as she stands, gathering both of their plates. She leaves him and as the water starts in the kitchen, he can hear her singing, along with the accompanying clanking of the dishes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Pull it together,” he berates himself. It still takes him until she’s done to work up the nerve to join her in the kitchen, and he starts talking before he even makes it there. He’s looking down, tugging the ring from his pocket.

“Katniss, there’s something I need to…”

But he trails off when Katniss comes into his line of sight. Kneeling on one knee right in front of him. She’s still wearing her comfortable clothes, but now an almost frightened smile quivers over her lips.

“I know you’re an utter romantic and I’m probably stealing your thunder here, Peeta, but I can’t wait any longer to ask you. And well, this is me after all, right? Impulsive and messy and more likely to propose in my pajamas than in a dress but you love me anyways.”

“Katniss,” he breathes out, his heart pounding so hard, he doesn’t care that he’s stealing his thunder.

“And I know the bet was for you to propose to me, but I need you to know that would’ve asked that day. But I really wanted to cream you in pool again and was definitely willing to play dirty for it.”

He laughs at this and then manages to pull his scrambled brain together.

“I play dirtier.” He holds the ring out in front of her. “Katniss will you marr--”

“Yes!” she shouts elatedly, cutting him off and practically leaping into his arms. He almost drops the ring as he slings his arms around her to catch her. Then she’s laughing and kissing him. “In a hundred different lifetimes, the answer is always ‘Yes,’ Peeta.”

He grins and pulls her mouth down to his, forgetting his carefully planned speech. He guesses he can save it for their vows.

[inkedroplets]

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

📚 Do you read your own fic?

I'm here to force you to feel proud😌

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

A little snippet from my Peggy Carter fic “Alex doesn’t know that I’m the test subject, does she?” It was even less than a rhetorical question and maybe that was why Fury didn’t seem at all in a hurry to supply her with an answer. “If she did, she would have refused,” Kara reasoned. Even now with their relationship as frosty as it was, Kara was sure of that. A lot may have changed between them, everything may have changed but not that. 

“You lied when you told me that the DEO wanted me to be the one to test the portal between our earths. Why?” “SHIELD and the DEO are collaborating on this endeavor,” he explained, hands folded neatly in front of him. “Which means that what SHIELD wants is what the DEO wants and vice versa.” “Oh that is such a load of—” “But,” he said, hand preemptively raised to her objection. “I neglected to inform Director Danvers about my choice of test subject. Something I plan to rectify when I give her my report.” “She’s not going to like that. Being kept out of the loop…” Who would? she thought and found her thoughts inexorably turn to Lena 

“Oh, I know,” Fury said, sounding wholly unworried. “And I’m sure she won’t have any problem letting me know either. But before you get angrier, maybe you’d like me to handoff the data you gathered before you accidentally crush it.”

Kara let out a loud exhale before she made a show of stowing the drive in one of her pockets instead of handing it over to him. The act didn’t seem to surprise him at all, on the contrary he almost seemed to expect as much because he gave a little nod as he sat up a little straighter in his seat.  “Why me?” Kara asked. “Did you pick my name out of a hat or did you just consider me expendable?

“You were never in that kind of danger,” he explained. For the first time he sounded almost contrite, or maybe more human. “But I will admit that it wasn't exactly risk free either.”

“You didn't want to risk one of your people? Is that it?"

“I thought you were tough enough to weather any possible hiccups in the experiment,” he said as if he hoped Kara would take it as a compliment.

“You don’t have anyone as tough as me on your earth?”

“Oh, I do, but she’s off planet and I know enough not to owe her a favor unless I absolutely need to,” he said smoothly. "You'd like her."

“So I was your only option?” Kara considered this for a brief moment before shaking her head. “No. You knew…” She took a deep breath, hoping that might quell some of the anger she could feel building in her chest. “You knew I would want to see Lena again.” She fully expected him to deny it, hoping that he would try so that she could call him out on it. She waited for his gaze to drop or for his eyes to flick up and away but he did neither.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I've actually finished a handful of fics recently that I haven't shared yet. They're a bit different than my usual output so I'm going to sit on them a bit but I'm always happy to finish a story even if I don't end up sharing it. One is maybe too angsty to share and the other is a bit smutty so I'm hesitant to share that one as well.

📚 Do you read your own fic? I do read my own fic. I hope that doesn't sound conceited. In all honesty, I am writing for myself. I get an idea that intrigues me and I always love exploring it. But it's usually so specific and out there that I'm shocked whenever someone ends up enjoying it. I like to go back and revisit older fics and I'm almost always pleasantly surprised to find a bit of dialogue or snippet that I really like and ask myself "Did I really write this?" That's fun. There is also the editor in me that eviscerates everything and the urge to edit or change something is hard to ignore. There's always room for another polish, I think.

[ineffable-baker-street]

based on david bowie's song 'love you till tuesday, because it is literally them. listen while reading, there's matching lines 🤍

"Just look through your window

look who sits outside

little me is waiting

standing through the night..."

Crowley laid back against the branch he was currently lounging on, continuing to sing softly. Aziraphale was late. Again.

The angel had an annoyingly common habit of showing up late, and considering this had been his idea several hundred years ago, Crowley thought it rather inconsiderate.

Aziraphale had suggested one night back somewhere in the 1500's that they revisit the place in which they'd become cautious acquaintances all those thousands of years ago. For old time's sake.

Technically speaking they weren't exactly allowed in the garden, after the whole Adam and Eve debacle, as well as that nonsense with the flaming sword. However Aziraphale had suggested that, as an Angel, he couldn't really be banished from the most sacred place on earth, and that they were just there to reminisce, nothing devious or anything of the sort. Crowley, delighted by Aziraphale's definitely grey-shaded mischief, and never one to turn down a wicked plan, had promptly agreed.

Therefore, for the sixth time in the last 500 years, Crowley found himself perched on the branch of an apple tree in the centre of the Garden of Eden.

And he was growing steadily more impatient by the minute.

"Crowley? Where are you?" the cautious voice of Aziraphale called out.

Finally.

"Hello... Crowley??" Aziraphale's voice sounded again, closer this time and pitched higher with concern.

Crowley swung his legs over the side and jumped down, landing half a foot in front of Aziraphale, and making him jump just as high.

"Don't be afraid, it's only me," Crowley grinned at the scandalised face of Aziraphale.

"Don't do that Crowley," Aziraphale huffed, breath rather shorter than usual. "You know how I hate to be frightened."

"Oh of course I do Angel," Crowley said, his eyes glinting as he removed his dark glasses. Those eyes, the only permanently serpentine part of him, were always cunning, always up to no good.

"I'm so very sorry I was late," Aziraphale began, accompanied by frantic pacing. "There was a customer in the bookshop who was very persistent, and kept asking all these questions and wanting my best recommendations, oh and! can you believe, they wanted to purchase my original, personally signed copy of Pride and Prejudice. I mean... really?! Have you ever heard such a thing Crowley? Jane hand-delivered that to my door for Heaven's sake, of course it isn't for sale, and then they finally left and I... what?" Aziraphale stopped his pacing as he glanced at Crowley, only to be met with a fond smile he was not the slightest bit accustomed to seeing on the demon's face.

"Oh nothing, carry on," Crowley said, waving a hand and putting his sunglasses back on in a hurry. A not-so-subtle attempt to hide his expression.

"Tell me!"

"It's nothing Aziraphale, continue with your John or Janet or whoever story," Crowley insisted, folding his arms and leaning back against the tree.

"Well now, you know perfectly well it's Jane, and stop trying to distract me," Aziraphale said with a huff. "Now tell me what you were thinking about."

"Oh alright alright!" Crowley pushed off the tree and held his hands up in the air.

Aziraphale waited expectantly.

"It's- it's just that, well, I was, well- I was thinking about that day in the garden. In this garden." Crowley began, and Aziraphale was bewildered at the tightness of his voice.

"Yes?"

"Well just about you... and- and me..."

Oh no. Surely he wasn't doing what Aziraphale thought he was doing. Not here, not right now, he wasn't prepared for this.

"And, well, and, and I- I um- ARGH WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!?"

"What is so hard Crowley??" Aziraphale asked, his own voice now thickening with the onslaught of tears. This was most certainly forbidden, they should not be discussing this. Not now. Not here. Not anywhere, but certainly not in the birthplace of humanity.

"We- we can't..." Aziraphale continued when Crowley didnt speak. "This isn't, we can't, it's not right! I'm an angel, and you're a demon and we can't-"

"I was very lonely till I met you on Sunday," Crowley interrupted, looking through his glasses at Aziraphale.

"You- what? What Sunday?"

"It's a line. From a song. You wouldn't know it, bebop and all that," Crowley said, waving his hand impatiently.

"But I was. Very lonely. Until I met you," he continued haltingly, taking his glasses off again, and looking at Aziraphale, directly into his eyes.

Aziraphale sighed, and covered his face with his hands despairingly. This was forbidden in every book to ever exist in Heaven and Hell, every rule, every warning, they were under no false impressions that a demon and an angel were permitted to fraternise, let alone anything else. And then Aziraphale made his choice.

"Well," Aziraphale began, clasping his hands just below his chin. "I hear the world is supposed to end sometime on a Tuesday, in several billion years," he continued, glancing away and then back at Crowley, trying to disguise the smile that spread across his face.

"Did you- did you just reference my song to me?" Crowley asked, looking inordinately proud. " You did! I thought it was all 'bebop'? What about all your classical rubbish?" he said, smile turning delighted as Aziraphale shuffled and shrugged.

"Well I just thought, couldn't be so bad. If you like it. Though I suppose that would make it just so wouldn't it?" Aziraphale said with a chuckle.

"And you mean that do you?" Crowley asked suddenly, ignoring the joke, desperation coating his voice "What you just said? Do you know what you just said? Because if you don't you better tell me right n-"

"Yes. I know what I said, and I meant what I said. I've always known and I will always mean it, from now until, well, until Tuesday I suppose," Aziraphale grinned, pleased at his joke.

"Oh, shut up," Crowley said, grabbing the collar of Aziraphale's coat and dragging him in, their lips colliding and falling into rhythm with each other. It was like they had been molded at the beginning of time to one day fit together like this. It felt right. Aziraphale sank into the kiss, running his hands across the back of Crowley's jacket and pulling the demon in sharply, drawing him even closer, so close that the two fell back against the sacred tree, breaking apart for a moment of air.

"Maybe I'll stretch it to Wednesday," Crowley grinned, as he tightened his grip on the angel's collar and pulled him back in.

[duplicitywrites]

Thank you so much for replying to my other ask! I completely understand not wanting to revisit a fic you had wrote when you weren't doing the best, and I hope you're feeling better now! 🩷 I adore 'evermore' so much even though it's quite depressing aha 🥲 The way you wrote Harry's mental health and escapism was so good and Id love to hear some spoilers if you were up to it 😅

One thing I love about fanfic is the freedom of it all, and like you said "What is fanfic if not an ode to writing that felt unfinished?". Your interpretation of Harry as an abused child at his core in works like "damaged" always get to me. It always felt weird in the HP book series that Harry had such an awful childhood and was as well adjusted and happy in the future.

Another one of your works I was really interested in is 'perfect boys with their perfect lives', the Harry/Cedric aka a certain dark lord one. It really had me thinking about what could have happened in the graveyard if Harry hadn't escaped 🫣

i am, thanks! it was around covid, which was an awful time for everyone i'm sure, with weird life stuff piled on top of it.

i was going to answer all of the ones you mentioned, but evermore is actually one of few stories i have planned out in detail. this is why it has a planned chapter count (though that hasn't stopped me from going overboard before lol).

i guess i'll just give you the whole thing in case i never finish it kljsdgkljdgs it's pretty long, so under a cut it goes! but first some context for everyone else:

🍃 Evermore

Tags: Alternate Universe, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Infidelity, Past Child Abuse, Dream Sequences, Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Plot Twists, Happy Ending, Surprise Ending, Healing

Summary:

Harry is a married man who is living a charmed life. He has no need for the fantasy potions gifted to him by the Weasley twins—or so he thinks. After falling asleep on the train ride home, Harry dreams of the perfect man, a man named Tom Riddle. As Harry explores his dream life with Tom, he realizes that his actual life is not as charmed as it seems. The pristine image of his faultless marriage shatters, revealing a darker reality, and Tom Riddle becomes an oasis, a sanctuary for Harry to escape to. However, no sanctuary is eternal and no oasis is truly perfect. Harry must eventually confront his demons, inner and outer, before he can find real happiness for himself.

Notes:

these notes are arranged in order from where the most recently posted chapter left off.

there are probably some divergent points that occurred during the actual writing process, but this plan below (i'll admit i'm not quite brave enough to reread it all) is what the general storyline will be.

-

reality four - right where you left me

maybe harry's been harbouring fears of his potions being found? :thots: or his husband's made note of his changes in behaviour, accuses him of not spending time/being devoted

they get into an argument where harry gets a looooot of shit for stuff he doesn't deserve to get shit for, stuff that's not even true

harry yells back but gets hit, idk if by magic or not :thots: and he backs down, distraught. then once he's alone, he goes straight for the dream world

dream four - no body no crime

it'll be a much shorter version obviously, and the character roster won't be the same

i hadn't nailed down the specifics of the background and so i'm not sure how it'll look, exactly

harry is NOT married in this dream, he knows dream-husband but they are only friends

dream-husband is ginny's role in this particular iteration

but the climax of this scene is where harry is snooping around in the house, where he happens upon the dream-husband's diary

he's been looking for evidence to prove the murder

harry reads through the diary

and in the diary are tragic entries describing depressive thoughts, details of emotional (maybe even physical) abuse, etc.

this is a pivotal moment for harry, who up until this moment has been in denial about the failings of his real life marriage

reading this in the framing of it happening to someone else is enough for him to realize that it's wrong

what happens to him is not okay

but of course it's not that easy to just, shrug off years of marriage all at once; harry once again exits the dream, thus ending that particular dream universe

he's partly in denial but it's not as bad as before

he's been using the dreams as a coping mechanism up until this point

i've made it sound kind of frustrating but the dream worlds that harry goes to are meant to be very lush, romanticized

while we realize that harry's dream worlds are not ideal, he doesn't realize it right away

he thinks he's still doing something wrong

reality five - coney island

uh so next is probably another real life scene which shows tension between harry and his husband, only harry is no longer acting the way he did before aka accepting things without question

after the dream, harry starts to... notice things. he picks up on the slights, on the manipulative behaviours. he doesn't argue back for most of it, because he's still figuring it out and he's in shock, but he does start acting differently, which is noted by his husband

it escalates things further, a landslide of 'harry is no longer listening to me, is no longer under my control' type of deal where it results in more attempts to manipulate, which harry now sees is bad

voldemort grew addicted to power, made deals with politicians, gained a following

he looks back on past events and picks out the red flags, realizes that his marriage is not a marriage of equals. but just because harry knows these things, doesn't mean he knows what to do. he goes back to the dream world for comfort/answers

dream five - cowboy like me

this one is 'cowboy like me'

harry is there with his husband staying at a hotel, they happen across dream-husband, who is a con artist attempting to swindle an older woman

either harry is also a con artist in a similar vein, or he is mistaken for one - i'll probably decide once it's written out and i get a sense of the vibe

but he and dream-husband have some interesting conversations, flirting, etc

the theme of this dream i think will be further strengthening the similarities between harry and the dream-husband he's made up in his head

this dream ends with a bittersweet farewell

something along the lines of, despite their attraction for each other, they must part ways? :thots: or some other thing

but there will be a bit of a cheeky 'see you soon'

aka referencing the fact that it's a dream/dream world, that the dream-husband is a recurring character in harry's mental space

reality six - happiness

harry's down to two vials now, the bittersweet farewell of dream five has him realizing that time is running out in the metaphorical sense; we understand that soon he will need to make a choice

i might loop back to infidelity at this point, maybe in an attempt to bring harry to heel, his husband starts flaunting an affair? :thots: cause in the past, flirting with other people probably worked to make harry upset and easily manipulated

but y'know now harry is armed with his brand new knowledge of Marriage Should Not Be Like This and also he's got some shiny self-worth stored up, courtesy of dream-husband

dream six - ivy

in this dream world, harry is married to his current husband, but he is having an affair with the dream-husband; not in the sexual sense, but in the emotional sense. drawing on the dream five, harry is seeking comfort and solace from his bad marriage

this dream is meant to remove more of harry's doubts and encourage him to see that his current situation is bad

and i imagine we start to break through the fourth wall; dream-husband speaks directly to harry, referencing real life events that have occurred

he encourages harry to leave

harry is doubtful, obviously. this is all he's known and he's been gaslighted, manipulated, mistreated

he's terrified he will be found out and punished for it

but the dream-husband reassures him, promises him that things will be okay, etc.

he makes harry promise to take care of himself

and i'm thinking in true romantic sense, maybe they spend the night together? :thots:

reality seven - closure

we solidify that harry deserves better, that what has happened is not his fault, etc all the important, healthy things

we have harry reaching out to the people that have been slowly pushed out of his life (mostly by his husband). he’s reconnecting with them, being healthier, i think this section would end with harry going to ron and hermione and telling them the truth, telling them everything

harry is down to his last vial, so he's been saving it

like, he could obviously go and get more, they would give it to him for free, even, but you know it's kind of like

he shouldn't have to rely on that as a coping mechanism any more

dream seven - evermore

i'm thinking harry goes for one last dream, they sit together outside(?) or somewhere else that has significance for harry

they hold hands, harry talks about how much the support has meant to him, what he's learned about himself, what these dreams have taught him

sometimes things don't work out

he knows he needs to walk out and move on

i'll probably cry writing all this so you know it'll be good

the end - it’s time to go

then like i mentioned before, there will be a scene of harry signing divorce papers. his friends are with him, telling them they support him, and he feels... relief. he feels hope.

the story ends with harry attending a party, this time by his own decision. he's here to genuinely mingle with people, with his friends, and have a good time

and then he sees someone

much like the previous dream, it's someone who he once knew

they talk, they catch up, but this time it doesn't feel odd or uncomfortable

harry feels secure with himself, and we end on the hopeful note that this could go somewhere good

[midday-headcanons]

Where exactly can I read your story? I can’t find any links or anything.

Here ya go! If you haven't seen that post already, I will give you a disclaimer:

I am revisiting the older chapters and rewriting them!

I'm not going to change the overall plot of the story, just making necessary edits to things to be more cohesive and legible. I didn't have a plan going into it in the beginning, and taking long hiatuses due to health issues has thrown it off even more. So, hopefully, it will sound better with time.

Have no fear, though! The revised Chapter 4 - Inside Out will be uploaded today!

Stay tuned!

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part I

Read Looking for Space here.

Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: none

A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.

This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy

P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)

---

I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really. 

I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really. 

The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once. 

Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:

Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

Yes please. What’s your ETA?

8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?

I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?

yes I do. What about dumplings?

obviously! 

;) see you soon 

I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.

Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.

It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations. 

The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer. 

And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other. 

After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn’t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin. 

And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.

Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?” 

I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’” 

Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.” 

“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”

“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”

“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”

“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”

“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”

“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”

“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”

“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”

“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer. 

“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.” 

“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”

“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”

Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”

I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”

“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”

I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”

“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”

The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.

Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”

“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”

“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”

“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”

Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”

I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.” 

“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”

I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”

“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”

“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore. 

Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar. 

The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. 

“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise. 

“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”

I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder. 

“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”

“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”

“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”

“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”

Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist. 

“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”

I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time. 

Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.

---

Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

[scarlet--wiccan]

Victoria Montesi is supposedly going to appear in Bloodhunt (a midnight sons mini specifically)

VICKY HIVE RISE UP

I've been enjoying Bryan Hill's Blade series quite a bit, so I'm looking forward to this. I'm surprised he's not more involved in Blood Hunt, since it's, you know, a vampire event, but who knows. They haven't announced the full lineup yet anyways.

This is Vicky's first significant appearance since Carnage (2016). Her role in the Carnage series was really cool, but the story itself contradicts a lot of Chthon and Darkhold-related lore in a way that makes it hard to reconcile with canon, at least for me.

I'm not exactly setting high expectations for a three-issue event tie-in, but I hope this means we'll get a nice update where she is and wha she's been doing since Carnage. I've been hoping for an update on her ever since Wanda took Chthon off the board-- although, ideally, I would have like for the two of them to team up. Wanda's freedom is Victoria's freedom, too, in a lot of ways, and it'd be nice to see them talk about it.

Anyways, I want to know if she's still working with the Children of the Midnight Sun and if they're still tracking down copies of the Darkhold and opposing Chthon/Darkhold cultists. If so, it'd be nice to see Vicky in that position of power, but in story that's more aligned with canon.

I've been revisiting Contest of Chaos, and it kinda feels like the entire point of the series was just to get a version of the Darkhold back out into the world while still allowing Wanda to maintain her new status quo. I don't know what Agatha or her creepy little Darkhold-baby have planned, but if it is bad news, then Vicky would be the perfect hero to oppose them.

[susiecarter]

hey susie! hope you're doing well! i've been a little down so i've been re-reading some of my favourite superbat fics of yours for comfort, and got to wondering how on earth do you plot out such long and complex stories? do you hit a word count target daily/weekly or do you just go a little crazy and write 20k over a week?

thanks for all the work you've shared!

Hey, anon! <333 I'm so sorry you've been feeling bleh, but fwiw I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear that my fic is a bright spot for you when you need one. ;-;! (Obviously I also hope you now feel awesome, continue to feel awesome, and never need to revisit my fic again. :'D BUT IN THE MEANTIME, I appreciate it so much. <3!) And! The answer to your first question is: OUTLINING. It took me a while to figure out that outlining is really important to my process :'D but outlining is REALLY important to my process, and never more so than when I'm working on a long complicated AU of some kind! I do a lot of brainstorming/pre-planning, working out what exactly is going to happen (what the ripple effects of a canon divergence ought to be, what will change AND what won't; exactly how many different characters' POVs need to be in there, and what each of those characters is going to be doing; &c) and what order it's going to happen in ...

... and that process is what allows the answer to your second question to be: when it's time for me to actually start drafting, I ABSOLUTELY go hog-wild and write 20k in a week! Once I've got my outline squared away, when I'm feeling good about a fic and the idea is eating me alive, I top out at a little over 1k an hour. Aaaaaand when I'm not feeling like that, I don't write a single word. /o\

I have a wordcount-tracking spreadsheet that color-codes itself automatically, mostly for my own amusement, and under the cut is a cap of it for this year, January through the end of June.

TADA.

It's probably pretty easy to tell when I had a deadline approaching or a story to finish :'D and when I didn't, lol. (And you can also tell I tend to burn myself out a little, because after one or two of those purple 8k+ days, there's usually either some blank spaces or some very light green!) I'm trying to get better at writing more consistently instead of accordioning myself like this, but as you can see, a word-heavy May led to a pretty lackluster June, especially toward the end. :D WORK IN PROGRESS.

Anyway, yeah. If you want to know more about my actual process for working out the plot of something, just drop me another ask! <3 And thank you so much not only for the compliments, anon, but also for the excuse to natter on a little. :D <333!

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter ❤

FIVE SEVEN

SIX

Edward insisted that you go to his house after you had sex in the car. As you said you would stay by his side in the heat of the romantic moment. It seems stupid now, but it's what you can do now. So at this moment, you are finishing your shower in the bathroom of Edward's almost-suite-like bedroom. He is currently informing his family that you are at their house. Your mind tells you that they will hate your presence, especially after his recent breakup with Bella. That's why, after finishing your shower, your plan is to look for a place to rent.

"You were wrong, they reacted better than you imagined. But they want you to come down for breakfast with them," Edward says, entering the bedroom and then opening the bathroom door, holding a towel for you to dry off. Sometimes you forget that he reads minds. You step out of the bathtub and wrap yourself in the towel. Edward kisses you gently while holding your face with both hands.

"Now try to tell me the truth. Your family doesn't have to force themselves to accept me here just because I'm homeless. I'll rent a place before Rosalie tries to throw me out the window. And I need to talk to Sam. But I can have breakfast with your family as long as none of them pretend to eat food." You say while putting on some clothes, and Edward turns around to give you privacy. When you finish dressing, you kiss Edward on the cheek, and he turns to look at you. Honestly, as he stares at you, a warm feeling of affection fills your heart.

"Don't you want me to go with you? Since you plan to reveal our relationship..." Edward says, holding your waist, and you hug him. Then you lightly slap his head, showing your annoyance at him reading your mind.

"Our agreement about you staying out of my mind still stands. I admit I'm scared of his reaction, but we're all grown-ups. And even though I can't read your mind, I can assure you that I won't run away or be afraid to admit that I feel something for you. Even if it could lead to a significant war between vampires and wolves. And you're definitely not coming with me," you say, laughing a little at Edward's reaction to hearing that he isn't going with you. Holding his hand, you head downstairs to have breakfast with the Cullens. The table is set, and it's clear they went to great lengths to make you feel welcome.

"We didn't know what you like to eat, but Bella used to have pancakes and bacon. Sometimes waffles and scrambled eggs. You're not exactly human, but you probably enjoy the same food she did. I know you two have similar tastes in many things," Rosalie says as you finish coming down the stairs. You look at her, knowing she isn't happy about your presence in her house, but you can't blame her.

"Rosalie, take it easy," Edward says, placing his hand on your shoulder, as if to show he's on your side. You breathe in and out, trying not to get upset. After all, do you really have the right to be upset?

"Edward is right, Rose. We have a guest, and we will treat her well. Y/N, I know you'll forgive Rose for her tone. We're just adjusting to this new situation," Carlisle says with some grace. He’s a good father. It makes you miss your own.

"I'd like to thank all of you for your efforts. But you don’t need to pretend. I know it’s sudden for me to be here; I promise I’ll leave. It’s too soon for us to be in this situation. Too soon for Edward and me to be together, but to be honest, Edward and I have had a relationship. We were secret lovers before he met Bella. That doesn’t justify anything, but perhaps Edward and I feel like we waited too long to be together." You look at all the Cullens in front of you, feeling like you’re making a confession. They seem to understand you, at least a little.

"Dear, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that it’s none of our business. As long as you and Edward are happy, we will support you," Alice says kindly. But you know it’s hard for them to support you both.

"I think it’s too early to talk about support. Not to be rude, Y/N, but just a few weeks ago Edward was ready to marry Bella. You can’t expect…" Jasper says, and you feel guilt washing over you. You’ve spoiled someone’s happy ending. You can't even respond. As the Cullens look at you with a mix of fear and concern, you see Edward wanting to comfort you. But right now, you need to leave this house. You should never have come. You run outside without saying anything more, hearing Alice cursing Jasper while Rosalie takes pride in not being the one to reveal that Edward was going to propose to Bella.

“Y/N, stop. Just listen to me for a moment. Don’t push us away. Don’t use this as an excuse to run from me,” Edward says, trying to stop you from getting into your car. You’re trying not to cry, trying to stay composed. But it feels like you’re back at square one.

“You were going to propose to her. Do you know what that means for us?” you say louder than you intended. Your emotions are overflowing.

“It was before you came back. Before we realized that what we felt before still exists. My decision not to propose was also a way to protect her,” Edward explains. You somewhat understand him, but right now, the anger towards Jacob feels justified. You feel like a terrible person.

“I’m not going to leave you. I’m tired of running, but I need some time. We both need to start over, slowly. I’m going to talk to Sam about us, and in the meantime, try to have a conversation with your family and your ex. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, letting the tears roll down your face before going to Edward and giving him a soft, comforting kiss on the lips. Maybe, just maybe, you and he are meant to find a way through this together. After the kiss, you say goodbye to Edward and head towards Uley's house. You know he'll find out your big secret eventually. It’s better that you tell him. As you approach the house, you see Sam and Emily. Immediately, Uley seems to harden his expression when he sees you.

"I never supported your relationship with Jacob, but you’ve definitely managed to get yourself into a worse relationship. You and a monster whose heart doesn’t beat. A damned bloodsucker, a vampire. Do you have any idea what that is? An abominable union. Your father would die if he were here to witness this." Sam is too enraged, but Emily touches his hand lightly as if calming him down.

"We talked about this, Sam. Don’t be rude to her. I’ll make some tea for us," Emily says gently, giving Sam a kiss on the cheek. You watch as Emily leaves you and Sam alone.

"My father died knowing this. Knowing that his daughter fell in love with a cold monster that survives on blood. He found out just before he made me leave Forks. Before he died. He reacted like you, and I was too young to defend myself back then, but I’m not now. I’m not going to lower my head and let you walk all over me. If you want to resolve this, face me. You may have your pack, but you’re still a weak man. You can’t see beyond your own nose. That’s why you’re an imperfect leader." You don’t mince words as you let your anger take over. Sam looks at you almost with disgust now.

"I’m giving you the chance to leave and forget this ridiculous romance of yours. If you continue, I won’t hesitate to end this fairy tale of yours, even if it means hurting you." Sam threatens. You laugh at him, as if his attempt to intimidate you has only amused you, but the truth is, it’s frightening. And in reality, apart from Edward, you don’t think anyone else is on your side right now.

"So it’s pertinent for you to know that she will have the support of my pack. Hurting her means hurting me, Uley," Jacob says, appearing out of nowhere and surprising both you and Sam. He stands beside you, staring down Sam. You wonder how he knew you were talking to Sam or how he arrived so quickly, but it's good to see him there, even if you and he are currently at odds.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[remnantsofthepast-if]

Monthly Update - January 2024

​ Hello everyone once again! I hope you've had an amazing start to the year. Whether you celebrated it in a big way or with something much quieter, I hope there was no shortage of food! Now, that's definitely something Enid would say, hehe :D.

---

As for the project, after some unexpected complications, I finally published Chapter 8 a few weeks ago! In the end, it turned out longer than I had planned, but I'm getting used to that happening, hahaha! Now it's time to start writing Chapter 9, the last one of this first act! Initially, this chapter seems like it will flow much smoother than the previous one. I usually have a clear image of how each chapter will go and then create a brief summary. In this case, I've expanded the summary a bit more than I usually do, hoping it will help with the writing process. But of course, part of the beauty of creativity lies in the unexpected, both for the good and the bad, so we'll take it step by step each day.

Man, I can barely believe I've reached the end of Act 1. I'm very excited! For several reasons that I can't reveal yet, tempting as it may be, hahaha! I'll just say I have a surprise prepared that I hope you like :D. Besides that surprise, it will finally be time to implement all the changes I had in mind and fix certain things about the characters and the plot here and there, especially in Chapter 2, which I revisited a few days ago, and... let's just say, to all those who read and understood Rayco/Gara and Enid's explanation, congratulations, because I dumped a lot of unnecessary info there for no reason, lol! It's definitely something that needs fixing, and as I mentioned recently, all these changes and revisions will come out alongside Chapter 9.

Finally, there's something important I want to say about this story. Once Chapter 9 is published, a week later, this first act will be available to buy, and the playable demo will be reduced. I still don't know exactly when the demo will be cut, but I was thinking roughly halfway through the story. However, this has brought a small issue too, which is that I don't know how to export it for mobile. I've been experimenting with the Monaca platform, and it looks interesting, but there's something that doesn't quite convince me :/. I've also thought about switching from Twine to ChoiceScript, but it seems confusing and limiting in terms of customization, and no matter how comfortable it is that Hosted Games handles all distribution and such, it’s just a big no for me at first glance. The good thing would be that at least with ChoiceScript you can export your save files from one book to another, which is something you cannot do with Twine or Renpy. Well... you can, actually, but that involves a lot of programming and coding that I have no idea about and if something goes wrong I wouldn’t be able to solve the issues, so it’d be more of a disadvantage than anything else.

Going back to Renpy would be more viable and comfortable for exporting, as I could maintain a single itch.io page. With Twine, I would have to create one for each act to keep the demos separate, and I’m not sure how to feel about that, to be honest :/.

I don't know, I’m just rambling at this point. These are things I'll have to think about since I don't want it to be confusing when playing Remnants. Anyway, I'll do some tinkering and play around a bit with Renpy to see how it feels, and if I'm not convinced, I guess I'll stick with Twine and add an intro for the player to pick all the important choices from Act 1 before continuing with Act 2. I appreciate any suggestions if anyone has them, though :D.

---

Have a fantastic month and see you at the end of February ;)

By the way, I’m making a few gifts for all of you for February 14! Nothing huge, but a nice detail that I hope you like :D.

[edutainer2022]

@thedryswan Thank you for the headcanons tag!

I'm gonna cheat a little and repurpose the big Scott headcanon post I put together a while ago. But these are quite hard h/c I swear by and revisit in my stories.

CW: we're talking about Scott, so there are LOTS of heavy themes and topics mentioned, angst and death. My mind goes dark places with him. Tread with caution.

✅ A canon or headcanon hill I will die on.

I'll do several, because I can.

Scott has a suicidal ideation/death wish. As in, he genuinely thinks he needs to die in sacrifice- the way Dad did. He doesn't actively seek it, but has sort of internalized that as an inevitable fate, because that's the least he can do against the magnitude of Dad's sacrifice.

He blames himself for Dad's death (canon text).

Excelled in academia. A prom king, President of the class, sports team captain and a valedictorian both in high school and college.

Scott is 29-ish (under 30) by the end of Season 3. I WILL die on that hill. Symbolically, that means Dad's disappearance spearheaded him into "legal, albeit too young" adulthood, and Dad's recovery ("saving father from the abyss") heralded transition into "full manhood".

Scott will loose a son some time down the line - IR equipment gone wrong, a rescue,  combat etc. (narrative symmetry is a ruthless thing). Sorry. I mulled it over every which way. A lost significant other is a gestalt already closed by Dad Tracy. And in a timeline that is not an incandescent wish-fulfillment HEA, it would unfortunately fall to Scott to experience what his father happily dodged - a son so adamant to follow in his Hero's footsteps, and a father so encouraging and approving of that - he'll pay the ultimate price.

Scott is not close to Grandma (mainly because Scott was close to Mom, aka the woman who took over as #1 in Jeff's life, later Scott is a living, breathing reminder that Jeff is gone, and is a mirror and foil to Jeff's shortcomings).

Scott can play the piano (Mom totally taught him first, having big hopes for those long, long fingers), but he never applied himself to practice the skill, like Virgil did. They can play duet on a very rare, precious occasion, when the mood is right.

Scott is more than a decent dancer - cowboy line and square dancing, but also waltz and tango. It was a Mom thing, originally, the prep for a middle school Formal or something. He later practiced with John, who was too shy to take dance classes. While we are at it - my hard headcanon is that, for all that he's Dad's replica and seeks Dad's approval like air, Scott was close to Mom, her White Knight, and takes after her a lot in mannerisms and character (it's maybe more obvious to the adults in their lives, as the boys' memories of Mom are hazy with every passing year).

✅ Dumbest thing they’ve ever done.

Got engaged or eloped, even, back in Flight School, to a fellow cadet. His trusted second in an air group and a wingman. Of course they usually got suggestions to "get a room" after flight exercises. At some point they did. Both stupidly young, of course. Scott asked Dad for Mom's engagement ring and withstood Dad's stern questioning stare with a defiant stance that "when you know - you know". Dad had little to object to that, but had his reservations. For one, it was against regulations - Scott was CAG (captain of air group), ergo, within direct chain of command. For two - Jeff already had plans of the Tracy Island and IR well underway. Scott was completely game and ready to join Dad, he believed in IR and Dad's dreams since day 1, since TV-21. Of course, in his idealistic mind the Love of His Life was to join them - an exceptional pilot she'd be a great asset to IR team, they worked seamlessly together. It'd be great! Bereznik recon was to be among Scott's last assignments. Only the fiancée didn't exactly subscribe to idyllic dreams of "getting kittens off trees under Daddy's watchful eye" - she thought they were to share a life of service, career soldiers and fighters, test pilots, command material. She thought Scott was betraying that shared dream in favor of indulging Dad yanking his leash. Mom's ring was returned. The breakup was so earthshattering that it may or may not have made Scott loose focus for a second, while flying over hostile territory. It only took a second... The brothers never knew of that whole relationship and situation, only Dad. And maybe Kyrano. I have a whole fic idea about the ring being first taken off Scott, together with dogtags, in interrogation, then retrieved.

✅ Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves.

These are things and thoughts Scott hates himself for territory - so, certainly, they would come across as jarring (and vastly untrue) to anyone, who actually knows Scott. I'll do several, because why limit ourselves in ways Scotty's mind would torment him.

Scott has taken a life or lives. Not just by proxy, as in people they couldn't save (Dad being first in line in his mind). And not just in combat/self defense. I think Scott has eased someone's suffering at some point and provided assisted suicide (a fellow POW in Bereznik, a rescuee). It's a whole different pit of hell that haunts him. I'd say Scott also has a DNR and maybe, that one time after a dark day and one too many helpings of scotch he asked either Virgil or John to do the same for him - to mercy kill. Virgil is horrified (Scott's DNR gets ignored on multiple occasions not for nothing), but John promises he'd do it. They all pretend that conversation never happened later.

On very, very bad days that happen more often after SOS, Scott kinda wishes they never found Dad's signal. Dad's signal means not only did he fail to save him, but he failed to search hard enough afterwards and settled into just living on. Scott is also not fooling himself- Dad's signal may mean there's no Dad alive anymore on the other side after eight years in outer space - which means loosing Dad all over again and watching the brothers and Grandma loose Dad all over again. Unthinkable. Unbearable. His fault.

Dad's return is not all unicorns and soothing rainbows. Well, it is - for everyone else. His brothers got Dad back, Grandma got her son back, Lee, Casey, Lord Hugh, Brains and Kyrano got their friend back, Tracy Industries got their CEO back, IR got the Commander back, the world got Jeff Tracy back. Which is all to exemplify how much Scott has been a placeholder in everyone's eyes. The brothers and Kayo can talk Dad's ear off a mile a minute about their pursuits and accomplishments, but Scott hasn't got much to show for it. He's only ever been doing... this "being Jeff Tracy" thing for the past eight years, trying to keep his head above water. He missed Dad to the point of wanting to die - but Dad is not back, advising him how to run the show and being there for him, he's back to pick up where he left off.  Alan and Kayo are even trained enough to fly One now. Why would anyone need Scott anymore? (This DOES NOT lead to any good places or conclusions. Scott's undercurrent fear is to see disappointment and disapproval in Dad's eyes, once the euphoria settles down  and he starts to delve into reports how Scott handled things).

Berezniki guards drilled into him that by the time they're done - noone would want what's left of Scott, broken and damaged beyond repair, and Scott is unsure he still doesn't believe them.

Scott doesn't actively want kids of his own. He loves his brothers beyond anything and Alan is his son in all ways that count. But he can't in good conscience pursue to bring a life into the world and then let it suffer the loss, like he did - Scott doesn't  exactly envision a happily ever after timeframe for himself, where he gets to grow old and be there for the kid(s). Nor does he envision a timeframe where he's loved and seen by someone to want to eventually stick around and raise a family. (Let's not forget these are dark, secret assumptions, and Scott is, obviously, way off the mark in them).

[maurofonseca]

Are you working on any personal projects? Any comics from you on the horizon?

Hopefully!

I've got a main idea of comics I want to do, but I'm gonna take longer talking about it, so I'll first mention a couple others-

I've in the past drawn a lot of like, online meme characters. Not this exactly, but stuff like "Earth-chan". Lately been thinking about revisiting that, making them my own characters, changing designs and names, and working from that for small slice-of-life things.

I've got a friend I collab with on ideas, and I asked him ideas for short stories. Planning to draw a couple of his ideas, both for portfolio and because he does good stuff.

However, the main thing, of course, is my ideas involving my characters Lalla Shepherd, Jackie Pollard, Lily Rock, etc etc.

Gonna go on at length about it now, so putting it under a read more.

I've got a setting of characters etc I've nurtured for a few years now. It's a setting of cartoon animal people, adventure, fighting, etc. Very much trying to replicate the Disney comics I grew up on, stuff like Barks, Cavazzano, Gottfredson, but also stuff like Tintin, Indiana Jones, Sonic the Comic. It's set in a fantasy version of Earth circa the 1960s, by which I mean it's just Earth, but everything's been renamed for denial purposes, a layer of distance. If I want "London" to be the 60s but "Lisbon" to be the 80s, I get to do so, because it's not really London or Lisbon, it's Fumdon and St. Vincent, right? If I want there to be a war in the backstory, it can be WW1, WW2, Korean War, and Vietnam War all at once, because it's not really any of those, it's a fantasy one. Kinda what Pokémon does with its regions.

The idea is to do multiple stories, small stories, short stories, in this setting. Again, like the comics I grew up on- adventure stories of 10 pages, rather than epics of 1000.

You can read an early first go at an introduction to it here. It's kind of outdated, in aesthetics at least, but it's still overall matching what I plan.

The starting point is, there's these three characters- Lalla Shepherd, a racer and former soldier dealing with what happened to her during the War, Jackie Pollard, a girl with a mysterious past who appears in Fumdon looking for a job and with an amazing aim; and Lily Rock, a supremely confident fighter who's travelled the world and is sent to Fumdon to cover the upcoming Tournament. Said Tournament is going to be a combat tournament held in Fumdon but part of the culture of a separate small nation-estate, as a diplomatic move between countries. This is attracting weirdos and people with ill intent, so our three main characters get made into a team of sheriffs to deal with it in the months leading to the event proper.

The tournament is primarily just a plot excuse though- it'll be happening "soon" for as long as needed. It's a near-future event that excuses why any character would be appearing now and making their entrance in the public stage, no matter how weird they might be.

It's also about a bootlegging criminal in another country, whose wares get stolen by a wannabe gentleman thief, and how that drags a lot of other characters into that story.

Open and obvious about it, it's primarily made of me seeing characters and ideas in other stuff, and going "I want to make my own version". Very Alan Moore League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in that sense- "I want to make fanfiction where James Bond fights The Avengers (the british spy team) and Mina Murray (from Dracula), but I don't have the rights for them, so I'll switch names around etc." Very cape comic books in that sense too- "we want to tell a story about Superman, but we're Marvel, so we make a Superman pastiche called Hyperion".

Part of it was influenced by the upcoming wave of public domain stuff in the US. As you can see by my drawings, it was planning to use specific characters like Mickey Mouse, but then I got confirmation that that's really really not gonna work internationally. Ah well.

Some of you might've been here long enough to recognise a lot of these ideas and characters were part of an abandoned webcomic I was doing before, 4QC. Well yeah, this is me trying to make that one work and avoid the pitfalls that killed it lol.

Dunno, hope that's enough context. I'm hoping I can get a new story of this, a remake of the old one I did maybe, out before the end of the year; and then to do a lot more next year, using the money I'm saving from Sonic work this year.

[humankarkat]

PLEASE tell me about the admiral and gallo plain!!!

Oh fuck yes The Admiral has been on my mind a lot lately, thanks to @timmy-jims-and-the-shindills lol

It's an AU I started writing a few years ago that I'm in the process of reworking now. Originally, it was set around the same time as Mando, and the Ghost crew infiltrates an old star destroyer for intel on the rebuilding Empire and run into Lyste, who's now an Admiral. Lyste ends up having a come-to-jesus and finally defects, feeding the Republic intel to help them destabilize whatever efforts the Empire has been making to coalesce.

As it stands now though, especially after Ahsoka came out, I've been wanting to revisit it and adapt a few things. The two biggest changes I've landed on so far is that Lyste is going to be a commander, not an admiral, which I think makes more sense and adds more tension to the story. I've also decided it will be set closer to the fall of the Empire, so probably not long after the destruction of the second Death Star.

It's full of intrigue and espionage and angst and also my silly little Imperial OCs. I just think Lyste deserves more attention, okay??

"Lyste, put the blaster down." Kallus's voice was steady. Diplomatic. "Please." Lyste let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, ‘please’ is the last thing I expected to hear from you!” He was only a few years older than her, Sabine remembered, but he was already going grey around the temples. “After everything you’ve done.” His voice trembled slightly. “After everything you’ve done, how do you honestly expect me to react? Hm? You break into my ship, you kill my men, you threaten my command-” “What the Empire is planning to do with this data is-” “Planning? How could the Empire plan anything like this? We’re defeated! Destroyed, all thanks to you and yours!” “Exactly! The Empire was defeated, yet its remnants still try to wreak havoc on the Galaxy! Lyste, clinging to the past isn’t going to change the fact that-”  “YOU WILL NOT TAKE THIS FROM ME AGAIN!” There was silence between them for a long moment. Lyste’s breathing had become a bit labored. “You left me there. Alone. At his mercy.” His voice was hoarse. “Did you know what they would have done to me if they believed you? Did you care?” This caught Kallus off guard. “I… I hadn’t thought that far at the time, no.” “Of course not,” Lyste whispered. His gaze, and his blaster, fell just a little. “...Of course not.”

The Gallo Plain fic is a silly little thing I started writing last time I rewatched Red vs Blue. The Empire is going through a command overhaul where they're reorganizing a whole bunch of stations all at once, so Kallus gets reassigned to a little base on Lothal for about a week, just while they finish moving everyone around. The problem is that this is a dinky little base in the middle of nowhere that kinda slipped through the Empire's cracks, and the five troopers stationed there are taking full advantage of that by goofing off. Kallus tries to whip them into shape. It doesn't go well. It's an interesting week for him, to say the least.

It stood out against the unmoving yellow grasses of the surrounding plain, its gleaming metal walls blinding in the afternoon sun. Kallus started toward it with sweat already dripping down his back. It was smaller than he expected, actually, just one mid-sized building in the middle of an otherwise empty field, the sharp angles of Imperial architecture a stark contrast to the smooth bluffs around him.  As he approached, he saw a figure outside the main door. One of the troopers, clearly, although he was stripped down to his blacks and… reclining in a lounge chair? Kallus wondered where he even got a lounge chair, and why he was allowed to sit out in plain view, out of uniform, with his hands tucked behind his head and his eyes closed under the obviously non-regulation sunglasses. Kallus made a mental note to issue a formal reprimand and have a stern talk with his CO as he stopped in front of the man, his figure blotting out the sun and casting a shadow over him. “Listen, Jenkins, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times. Don’t interrupt me while I’m on watch,” said the trooper, turning his head towards him but keeping his eyes closed. “Got to keep the base secure. Rebels never sleep, you know.”  “It seems you do, however,” growled Kallus.  The trooper’s eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and he scrambled to sit upright and pulled his sunglasses off. “Oh, karking hells, the ISB! Whatever it is, I didn’t do it. Shavit, I mean– Sorry, sir– Agent, ah, kriff.” Kallus watched coldly as the trooper stood clumsily and brought himself to a sloppy attention, then kicked the chair away in a vain attempt to hide it from view.  “Welcome to Gallo Plain Base, Agent, uh… Kriff, Agent…” “Kallus,” said Kallus, his voice dripping with disdain. “You should have received a formal message from command about my arrival some time ago.” “We did, sir, it’s just…” The trooper cleared his throat, then continued sheepishly, “We thought it was a joke, sir. Or maybe sent to the wrong base by mistake, I dunno. Point is, we um. We didn’t believe you were actually coming.” “Is that so,” said Kallus, the scorn in his voice nearly palpable. “Well, it seems my work here is cut out for me.” He moved past the trooper towards the main entrance. “Gather the men, I’d like to address them,” he said over his shoulder, “And put your armor on, for gods’ sake.”

Thanks for the ask! I'm excited to see where these go eventually, especially the Lyste fic.