#i rewrote a majority of the chapter when i came back to it because it was so sloppy

[amethystfairy1]

I rewrote my novel. Admittedly I deleted it because it felt like it was me ranting and you wouldn’t enjoy it, but it made me feel good that you wanted to read a random person’s analysis.

To get out of the way first is the potential wild card invisible stalker. I saw some people speculating it was Mumbo because that seems like a rogue ability, but there’s no reason for him to have been stalking this group he barely knows instead of be with his own. I think it’s a new character, which you didn’t tag either for spoilers or because they don’t truly appear in this story. The latter is my guess, and their purpose is to be another thing hanging over Gem’s group as they go into the fight. As to who they are, because of that recent post on spoilers and the ninja thing, I’m going to guess Etho. The “why” for whoever it is is “to be revealed” information.

Next, the bird reunion. Based on that summary, they have to fight and it’ll definitely be intense. My guess is either during the pre-fight banter between the others or when they first come in contact and a failed sneak attack, the twins will recognize each other, hesitate, but go into the fight anyway because that’s what their friends/masters want. Major cognitive dissonance. I predicted one would get the upper hand and almost, but not quite, finish the other, but more specifically I think Grian will beat Pearl because she’s still injured. If I was writing it, he’d notice the injury, target it because that’s what a good killer does, and simultaneously hate himself for it. And then more delicious angst because a good avian would finish her off, but he can’t do it.

Meanwhile, I think Gem would be fighting the other two. She says in the first chapter that she’s low on magic, but she’s scary enough without the spirits. If I had to guess, I’d say she could normally solo everyone in the other group (not without difficulty, but would win in the end), but it would be the combination that could get her. Scar is also running low on magic, but we don’t know how the two compare. I don’t think we’ve seen Scar fight without magic either, so he could quickly empty his reserves. Mumbo is a very scary opponent and has the element of surprise, but I’m not sure how he’d stack up in a brawl. Judging by that summary of him nearly dying, I’m not optimistic. Scar has previously detected enemies with the spirits, but it’d be interesting to see if another nature elf can go undetected with their own magic. Then it’d be up to Grian to notice them when they’re pretty close, if he’s in a state of mind to do so effectively.

Speaking of state of mind, that was just them physically. Mentally no one is doing well. Mumbo and Scar are worried about Grian and are probably mulling over the target they painted on their backs. Gem is stressed out about the stalker, always worried about Pearl, and her guilt and frustration are turning to rage. That could all cloud her fighting abilities, but so could that empathy she’s trying to shut down. Recognizing Mumbo could give her pause, as could seeing Pearl in Grian and herself in the other boys. A vision just came to me of Grian using his wings to protect one of them from Gem and that causing her to stop. I could also see her stopping if she thought Pearl was about to die again. Both sides would stop if one of the avians admitted they’re siblings, but I can’t see them forcing that information out in the middle of a fight. I think the fight will end with one side recognizing themselves in the other and choosing not to continue. Then we can get a more wholesome birb reconnecting.

The thing I’m less sure about is Impulse and Skizz. I don’t quite know if they’d even participate in the fight or how that would go. I can easily see Impulse deciding not to participate because it’s not his job and he wants to protect Skizz, or him going with the group and being worried about Pearl with this job. If they do participate, that weighs things more in the favor of the Soup Group. From what we’ve seen, Impulse is strong and can tear through normal adventurers. Of course the boys are much stronger, but I’d expect him to hold his own. Skizz is a little more tricky. If he fully fights, I’d expect he’d be a beast. He was nearly retained, so he had serious skills, the only concern would be how much fighting he’s done since being sold. Granted, that didn’t seem to hold Grian back. I doubt Skizz’s heart would be in this fight though, and he’d be looking more to see if Impulse will die or if he can kill him. That won’t happen of course. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a moment comes and Skizz either saves Impulse or doesn’t take the kill, and later has to ask himself why.

So, yeah. That’s my thoughts on what I think is being set up for this story. You don’t have to respond to this. Now I know that even if you don’t, you still enjoyed it. I look forward to seeing if I’m right or be proven wrong. Doubt I’ll be disappointed either way.

I

LOVED

THIS

SO MUCH

RAHHHHHHH

This is so so so so sooooo cool!?

Obviously I'm not gonna super in-depth respond to any of your predictions because I don't wanna give any tells because spoilers but I need you to know that I LOVED THIS.

I WAS BEAMING THE ENTIRE TIME I READ IT

It just makes me SO happy that my stories have the moving parts that make someone able to think it through and come up with theories about what's gonna happen, and that you enjoy the story enough to do so just makes me so very glad! Thank you so much for retyping your novel because I ADORED IT and I will be saving it and I love it very very very much!!!

I'm so glad you're looking forward to this fic, I have so much planned and lots is gonna happen, I'm just SO excited to share it all and it's so wonderful to see everyone is trying to figure out what's gonna go down!

Thank you thank you thank you for sharing!!! 💖💖💖

[dayseternal-blog]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Bunny-senpai!!! 💕

I answered an ask similar to this one last year in March and I don't think my answers have changed...

I rewrote each blurb haha, so it's not an exact copy-paste from before.

1 ��It’s No Secret” - Rated M, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata returns to Konoha after 5 years studying abroad in the Moon Kingdom. She just wants to enjoy her last year of high school as a normal girl, but blossoming love forces her to confront her future. - My top fave. Back then, I wrote this like I was possessed. This story consumed my mind, and I was posting chapters every 1 or 2 weeks. I'm amazed at myself from back then. No, it's not my technically best writing, but I was having so much fun thinking up all kinds of scenes!!! Oh, to be a fanfic writing newbie all over again. Major love to everyone who's read this flirty teenage shenanigans mess and enjoyed it!!! One day I will write part two 🥺

2 “Nightdreams” - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto and Hinata find comfort in each other after the war. - This fic idea came to me sometime after I read agitosgirl's "A Special Friend," and I wanted Moooooore!!! I wanted more of this hurt/comfort dynamic between NaruHina!!!! So bam, the fic almost wrote itself, it flowed so easily (except for when it didn't). I'm so happy that people reread this fic, and then tell me that they're rereading it :D. Once in awhile I reread it, too, and think, oh, I should fix that sentence, or whatever loll, but I don't. I kind of think it's nice to leave it as it is, imperfect in little ways to bother me. Please read this fic and recognize that I was copying Katarinahime's writing techniques throughout.

3 “Awkward Jocks” - Rated G, 1990s High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. She knows that if he were to ever ask her out, she would accept in a heartbeat. After all, he’s the star quarterback and basketball player. Plus, she’s liked him since…forever. But when her home phone rings, and he’s on the other line, she hangs up. - It's interesting to me that even after all the fics I've written over the years, it's a few of my oldest fics that take the top 3. I guess I really have been trying to write for myself since the start. This one is based off of my ex-coworker's love story. Even though I don't work with her anymore, I still think of her as my role model for good leadership. When you read this, I hope you can feel how much I love her!

4 “About You” - Rated G, 1970s High School AU, One-shot. A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other. - This is my most personal fanfic. Based on stories my parents told me and stories I found online from people of their generation, I tried to dive into their time using NaruHina. Ever since I was inspired to write after reading emmykay's "Torch Song," I had wanted to write a fic with Japanese-Hawaiian pidgin dialogue. This fic is close to my heart, but it's not higher on the list because there are inaccurate details that bother me 😅. I'm thinking of writing a fic about my great grandparents' generation one day, I've done a ton of research for it! Anyway, I'm so happy that others love this fanfic, too.

5 “Matcha” from “Shared Vows” - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Naruto calls Hiashi “father” for the first time. - According to my previous blurb, I picked this one because I loved how I structured it, I thought I wrote it really well. I also loved the notion of Naruto finding his own family. On deeper reflection, I think I also picked this one over "Finally Home" because I have a not-so-secret agenda for reconciliation between Hinata and Hiashi, fed by my own family's dynamic with my dad.

If I were to recommend any one of these for someone to read, I'd say they should start with Nightdreams or Matcha as an intro to some of my work since canon universe fanfic is always easier to digest.

[angelasscribbles]

Solace

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret

Pairings: Adi x MC

Word Count: 1,647

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A/N: So I rewrote the one and only sex scene RC gave us for these two because I thought there was a lot of untapped emotion there.

My other stuff: Master List.

Image Credit: Romance Club official Instagram.

Adi had stopped talking. I didn’t want to press him, but I wasn’t leaving him alone, so I studied the unused ballroom I had followed him to.

The window we stood in front of was magnificent, blue, green, and purple stained glass stretching from floor to ceiling and sparkling in the early afternoon sun. Ivy grew through the cracks of the crumbling brick surrounding the window, giving the entire room an abandoned feel.

Tables and chairs were stacked along the far wall, but the vast majority of the room was empty and even our hushed voices seemed to reverberate in the silence.

“How do you deal with grief on earth?” His voice was laced with so much pain it rendered me speechless for a moment. My body and heart were frozen by the anguish in his tone.

When I didn’t answer, he elaborated. “People die so often there….”

Like my mother.

Like me.

The image of my father’s grief-stricken face swam before my eyes.

What did I know about healing? I was still raw and ragged from the loss of my own mortal life. And despite the fact that she had died when I was very young, I was not over my mother’s death. Although, with time, I had learned to live with it.

I gave him the best answer I had. “There’s nothing to do but give it time.”

“Time to do what? To go crazy?” He covered his face with one hand and turned away, hiding the tears that slipped unbidden from his eyes, streaking his cheeks, giving proof of his sorrow and heartbreak.

I had no words of comfort to offer. I knew from experience that no matter how well-meaning, words were meaningless, offering little solace against the wretched misery of loss.

“Adi…” I stepped up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed my body tightly against his trying to convey with physical touch all the love and grief in my heart. For Sammy, but also for him.

For my sweet, sarcastic, adventure-loving Adi. My heart broke for him. The one left behind. The one forced to pick up the pieces and go on living somehow. There is nothing that prepares you for a loss of that magnitude. No road map that tells you where to go, no playbook that tells you what to do, no guide that tells you what you’re going to feel or how to overcome it.

He was drowning in hopelessness, and I was desperate to pull him back. To pull myself back.

Because once I opened the door that grief lived behind, it all came pouring out. I may have started crying because of Sammy, but as the sobs tore through my body, I was suddenly grieving every loss I’d ever had, every bit of pain I had been shoving down deep inside came crashing through the wall I tried so desperately to keep in place. Growing up without my mother, being ripped away from my father in the prime of my life, losing the purest soul I’d met here, watching Adi sink into desolation and plunge toward despair.

He spun abruptly in my arms, so we were facing each other. He buried his head in the side of my neck as sobs wracked his body. He was crying. I was crying. We clung to each other as if our lives depended on it.

Pain, anguish, and inconsolable grief raged through us both. And yet we did console each other. Our bodies pressed together gave some slight comfort. The warmth of his body, the firmness of his embrace, the life struggling within him, called to the life struggling within me.

He was so close. His body pressed into mine, his breath on my neck, his fingers digging into my back, all gave rise to a different, but just as primal, emotion.

One moment we were crying in each other’s arms, and then suddenly we were kissing. His lips crashed against mine. Our tears mingled together. All the pain and anguish transmuted into something hotter as passion flared into existence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” With several deep shuddering breaths, he pulled away and wiped at the wetness coating his cheeks.

I stood rooted to the spot. “Adi?”

He lifted his eyes to mine; bare inches separated us. I could feel his energy pulsing between us. The mood in the room had shifted.

He lunged forward, grabbing me around the waist and yanking me back to him. His mouth was on me again, fervent kisses trailing down my jawline and dancing across my neck. His hands pulled frantically at my clothes.

I responded in kind, letting the fire of ardor temporarily burn away the endless aching agony of grief.

My clothes lay in a heap on the floor. I was naked before him. He pulled back long enough to gasp out, “Are you sure?”

I nodded my consent, my head too clouded with an overwhelming assault of conflicting emotions to speak.

He spun me around so my back was to him and spread my arms above my head, forcing me to rest them against the stained glass.

And I let him. I let him because I understood this wasn’t about love or even sex. It was about finding a way back from all that pain, finding a way to beat back the grief through the most basic affirmation of life.

He entered me roughly. I rested my cheek against the sun-heated glass and let my mind go blank to everything but the prurient primordial sensations that were cascading through my body.

His hand covered mine, fingers twining as he slammed into me again and again.

His body moved against mine, his energy wrapped around me, and deep, guttural sounds issued from the back of his throat, all conspiring to push me ever closer to the edge of the precipice.

I struggled to keep quiet as my naked body pressed against the smooth glass of the window, its warmth in sharp contrast to the cold bite of the ambient air surrounding us.

I failed. A high-pitched whine spiraled out of me as he pounded ruthlessly into me.

“Quiet.” his hot breath in my ear only sent me hurtling faster toward the edge.

Ignoring his directive, I threw my head back and lost myself completely in the fire that was throbbing through my body and the heat that was coiling tightly in my center.

As my whine built in both volume and pitch, his hand covered my mouth and I bit down on it, stifling my screams. I crashed over the edge and fell into the abyss, my mind blissfully unaware of everything but the pleasure pulsing through me.

He slammed into me once more, pinning my body tightly between his own and the stained glass as he exploded inside me. His sweat covered me as we slid slowly toward the ground, still pressed together.

He pulled out and sat next to me, his back thumping into the window as he gasped for air. We sat side by side, not talking but sneaking sidelong glances at each other as our breathing gradually returned to normal.

I caught his eye and gave him a small smile. He smiled back, then frowned and shook his head. “I….I’m sorry…”

“Why are you sorry?” I studied him, watching the guilt play across his face.

He didn’t meet my eyes as he stammered out, “I…it won’t happen again.”

Was the guilt because he felt he had betrayed Sammy or because he thought he had been too rough with me? Perhaps both.

I reached for his hand, entwining our fingers again. “It’s okay, Adi. It was the grief talking. It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

It had been rough, a brutal expression of his overwhelming loss. He had needed an outlet, and I had been happy to provide it. I had borne the brunt of his pain and rage, and I would bear it again if that’s what he needed.

He finally met my eyes, rewarding me with a grateful smile, and gave my hand a squeeze. “We should…ah…we should get dressed.”

“Yep.” I agreed.

He stood and offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet. We sorted our clothes and hurriedly dressed as if we’d only just then realized that anyone could walk in and catch us.

And what had we done that was so wrong? Since when was love ever wrong? Adi and I might not have a romantic love, but the deep friendship I felt for him was love, nonetheless.

I felt anger bubble up inside me at the reminder that even though this was the afterlife, somehow my body and my heart were still being controlled by those in power. It was my body. Didn’t I have a right to do what I wanted with it? And after all, no one controls who they fall in love with, do they?  

Like Sammy and Adi. By what right did the council decree that their love for each other had been wrong?

When I first arrived here, I wanted to be an angel. It seemed like a no-brainer. Angels were the good guys. So simple.

But it wasn’t simple. And the longer I was here, the less convinced I was that was the case. Not that the demons were paragons of virtue by any means, but at least they allowed themselves to feel emotions, and that made them seem much more human to me. Those very emotions were why the angels looked down on the demons.

If feeling things made you a demon, then I was beginning to think I might be one.

I followed Adi back out into the main building, sensing his energy. It was a little stronger, a little brighter than it had been before, and nothing in the universe would convince me that was a bad thing.

[im-a-king-baby]

Hey, I love ELYN 😭❤️

So my two fave scenes/ moments were the 'keep of the lake house for now' and 'I've been in love with him since' so any commentary will be amazing. Any extra stuff will be amazing so 🪻please 😊

Hiii <3

Gonna put these 3 under a cut because length

“So hold onto that lake house for a while longer,” he says. “Okay?”

Context: i wrote the majority of the first draft of ELYN for Nanowrimo in 2022 (basically a challenge where you write a 50k novel in the month of November) and then I rewrote and edited it over a bunch of months.

So this chapter was actually very similar to the original draft, except that in Draft 1 all of the vote fallout was in one chapter which had the Simon scene first then the Nils scene. In the editing/developing process all the non-Wilhelm characters grew a lot so I knew I wanted to expand Nil's role, and add some more Felice which meant I could bump Simon into his own chapter.

(there was absolutely not meant to be a giant posting gap between the Nils scene and the Simon scene. To be completely honest if I'd known I was going to need that long to finish the fic off I'd probably have chosen to put the gap immediately after the debate because... tension 😈)

The main places where the Simon scene got extended was in the details - Simon's life and career was not well thought through in draft 1 and a lot of the extra length across the whole fic came from building that up - but the lakehouse beat was always there because it was important that Simon's rehab process had to be something he did independent of Wilhelm, so this idea of Wilhelm offering up this house and Simon rejecting it, then clarifying that it's a 'not yet' but hopefully one day when he's in a better place.

Wilhelm's 'I keep thinking about the last time you went to L.A.' was not in the original and was one of those character beats that didn't come to me until months later, but that really pulled together Wilhelm's feelings at that moment and his reluctance to let Simon leave, and that then led really nicely back into Simon saying hang on to the house, because hopefully its not goodbye this time.

“Keira asked what was different about you,” Simon says. “I said: I fell in love with Wilhelm when I was sixteen, and I have been in love with him every day since.”

Okay so this part was possibly the slowest part of the fic to write mostly because I was still figuring out how to articulate this ending which was meant to be optimistic but not magic-wand-everything's-fixed-now. This line in particular came about because I was trying to find where Simon was sitting emotionally and ended up writing a very short therapy in L.A. scene in which Simon dropped this line and I was immediately like 'well, that has to get into the main story.'

It's a nice parallel to Wilhelm's 'I'm never going to stop being in love with him.' in chapter 8, and it highlights that the issues between them have never been a lack of love or not wanting to be together, it's always been these outside forces that they need to break away from.

Also its one of those lines that you write down and then you read it and you're like 'people are gonna quote this one back at me' and its nice when you get that right 😅

And on that theme, your 🪻 is:

“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” This is the worst part of therapy. “Wilhelm.” Keira’s eyebrows twitch slightly, which is the only reaction he ever gets and means he’s surprised her. “We haven’t spoken much about Wilhelm, not since you asked if you could text him. Are you ready to tell me more about what happened between you?” “You could check the tabloids.” Her ‘you know that’s not what I meant’ look reminds him of Candace, except that she hasn’t figured out how to also convey ‘and I’m disappointed and you’re exhausting and you’d be nothing without me.’ “I’d like to hear it in your own words.” Simon absolutely can’t look at her. “I fell in love with Wilhelm when I was sixteen,” he says. “And I’ve been in love with him every day since. He’s the one I think about every time I sing a love song. Still. I have slept with - I don’t know, hundreds? - of people since I left Sweden and none of it meant anything, compared to him.” “What was it like, seeing him again?” He’d been drinking steadily in the car on the way to the benefit concert so that he’d be able to smile and read a teleprompter and not just stand there staring but it was a close thing. After his performance they’d swept him into a room where he drank champagne and smiled for the cameras. Wilhelm had touched a fingertip to his bare shoulder and Simon had wanted him so badly it hurt in places he’d thought could no longer feel anything. He doesn’t have words for that, except that it was like being in love. “He showed me I could do this,” Simon says instead. “That I could get out. That these systems we were caught up in weren’t infallible.” She frowns very slightly. “Do you think he spoke out against the monarchy for you?” Maybe? He offered once. On a cold night in his ridiculous scarf in so many words that it was Ayub who figured out what he was getting at after he’d walked away. But, no. “He did it for him. Because he needed it. And I did this for me. But there couldn’t be an ‘us’ before. Because of all those things getting in the way. And now… and maybe we both did it a bit for that. For love. Or whatever.”

[creaticare]

Writing Wrap-UP

This setup is based off of @teleiapotami

This year was both a bit chaotic when it came to my writing, but also not. I didn’t write for most of the year, or really at all until I got back into Fairy Tail and joined @theguildawards discord server. I also gotta thank @grayseyebrowscar for inviting me to the server in the first place, but also being there for all of my various Fairy Tail fic idea rants.

Without further ado, my small end-of-the-year in writing (aka some of my favorites)

September - More than just a Fairy Tale

October - Shocking Memories

November - Karasuno’s Second Fall This was the only thing that I posted in November, I had been working on something separate for Nanowrimo, but ultimately failed at completing it. Though I did rewrite this entire fic + a new chapter in November. 

December - Finding Hope

Favorite Fluff - I would have to say that my favorite fluff I wrote this year was ‘More than just a Fairy Tale’ it was a one-shot that I made on a whim because of a little comment that was made in TheGuildAwards discord server, but in the end I was really happy with it.

Favorite Angst - I would say KSF, but that was mostly a rewrite, so for fresh newly written stuff for this year, it would definetly be ‘Finding Hope.’ It was my fic that I wrote for TheGuildAwards secret santa, and I was very proud of what I was able to do with it, and how I was able to portray the characters emotions. So that would definitely be my favorite Angsty fic I wrote this year.

Overall Favorite: “Karasuno’s Second Fall” hands down, no questions about it. I know that in the last one, I said that I wasn’t counting this one, but I’m just so proud of it since it was a major accomplishment for me. I worked really hard to rewrite this, because I was reading it one day and just decided I didn’t like my old writing style, and I knew I could do better. So I rewrote it with everything I know now and doubled the word count, portrayed characters' emotions better, and overall just made a piece that I felt more proud of.

Most Popular: My most popular one from this year was “Karasuno’s Second Fall” but of fics that I originally began writing this year, it was “More than just a Fairy Tale.”

Least Popular: Friends Love

Can't wait to continue some of the fics that were already listed here and start some new fics in the new year!!!

[greenerteacups]

really curious how much of lionheart you had mapped out when you started bc the speed you are posting is so crazy to me like you are jetting through writing books worth of plot and it is wonderful but also girl how?

so the answer for the update speed is that I pre-write the books and take hiatuses in between to finish them, which takes a ton of pressure off and makes it way easier to write! with respect to plotting, i had a really broad outline with major plot beats sketched out from the very beginning, but the specifics of each plot take about a week of solid writing at the beginning of every drafting process. before i write a word of any book i'll sit down with the checkpoints that i've laid down and hash out how to connect them.

so for instance, things like "in book 6, draco [REDACTED] the [REDACTED] because [REDACTED NAME] [REDACTED ACTION] at the end of book 5" are still just vague tentpole ideas for the future, while the chapter-level mechanics of how that's going to work still have yet to be determined. for book 5, more specific notes like "draco and [REDACTED] have a [REDACTED] scene in [REDACTED LOCATION]" appear everywhere. e.g., i knew at the beginning of book 2 when they were going to meet Sirius, how Sirius escapes in Chapter 30/31, and even that draco was going to visit the weasleys in book 4. but some stuff came pretty late — like, for instance, the fact that Cassius was champion didn't occur to me until I'd already written the Sorting with someone else, and then I realized everything worked better if I went back and rewrote a few chapters to incorporate it.

[quordleona03]

I have never had to make a seder for Passover, and I haven't attended more than two seders in my life: I am by upbringing and heritage a Gentile.

I have, however, with assistance, made a Reform seder for Passover in New York City, in Sidney Freedman's West Side home, those present a nice assortment of nuts and fruits.

And I was not able to use the orange on the seder plate, because this seder for Passover takes place on 8th April 1963, which is thirty years too early for Susannah Heschel's inspired addition. Sidney Freedman in my story is sixty years old in 1963: it's just possible he lived long enough to add an orange to his seder plate on Passover - because, after he came back from Korea, he and his lover decided this was the night they would welcome the stranger and feed the famished within their gates.

Sidney Freedman, 1963

In research for this one chapter, I read a lot of haggadot, and looked in particular for a Reform Haggadah that was old enough to have been the one Sidney and his lover would have had multiple copies of in the 1960s. (I went with the 1923 Union Haggadah - the revised edition is still available.)

I looked up endless Sephardic recipes for Passover. Most of them don't actually show up in the story, except for dafina.

And not exactly for research, but for the story: I watched a whole lot of Passover episodes. I listened to Six13 on Youtube. I read Herman Wouk's novel Marjorie Morningstar, which I cannot honestly recommend, and Georgia Hunter's novel We Were the Lucky Ones, which was great. (Full disclosure: I could not actually finish Wouk's novel. I'd got it out of the library for the seder chapter, and I skim-read the rest of it.) I was trying to think my way into how to write the seder chapter I'd planned for All We Know when I had realised with the thoughtless cheerfulness of the pre-first-draft writer that the date of Passover in 1963 fitted very neatly into the timeline of my story, and fitted too my thoughts about Hawkeye Pierce being Jewish and non-practicing.

I know this is going to sound weird, but the moment when things clicked with me and I thought "I can write this" was when I was attending my local Transgender Memorial Day reading of the names, as a hench of the Order of Perpetual Indulgence. As a cis lesbian, I didn't have anything to contribute, except to stand there in my henching robes and bear witness, and what I thought was (forgive me if this sound awfully Gentile): There are some things that are important to do, and we do them every year, because we need to remember, to publicly bear witness, to tell the story. To outsiders this may look silly, but we are not doing it for them but for us: we share our stories, we remember our history, we ensure our past is not forgotten. When I - as I thought then - finished writing Sins and Virtues in 2006, "Jewish Hawkeye Pierce" wasn't a fannish concept. (Alan Alda talking about how Passover is his favourite holiday is probably the origin.) But as I was thinking through the story I meant to write, of the year July 1962 to July 1963, the more I felt "Hawkeye is Jewish" would work for the story. What had not occurred to me as I finished writing the short chapters of February and the long, long chapters of March, and began - last November - to think about Hawkeye and Mulcahy going to the seder for Passover that Sidney Freedman is making - a sober seder for his friends - was how gormlessly little I knew.

So I did what you have to: I wrote the shitty first draft. And then I rewrote it. And then I asked a friend if she would sanity-check it for me, and she said no, because British seders are different from East Coast Reform seders, and she referred me on to another friend, who very generously read the chapter and sent me multiple line-edits and suggestions and saved me from at least three major howlers and I am endlessly grateful to him. (Thank you, Rich.)

(My demonic proofreader also gave it her usual seeing-to, which was as consistently helpful as ever. )

So there it is: Hawkeye Pierce's Pesach, 1963, the latest chapter of All We Know.

[amyisherenowitsokay]

Ooh, another one came to me when I sent the technology one.

In going back and reviewing the original MHNY trilogy plot, story, everything built between characters etc, what did you do? What did you decide to scrap, to keep, or to repurpose? You said you're aiming to branch away from 2 and 3 with something different, and disliked how you kept yourself to following the plot beats of the original first, right?

What does that clean slate look like? What pieces in Re:1 act as the catalyst to those further down in Re:2&3? The largest ones are obvious, (obviously) the big glaring plot changes. Are there more subtle ones? (don't have to say if you want to keep em a secret.)

Or, just, what things thru all three stories made you die inside and scream why did you write that? (I feel like you have a list.)

I'm gonna answer with spoilers because I'm having a good time answering these. These are HEAVY spoilers for the direction of the fic. As Re:MHNY2 is currently aiming at a Spring release date, I feel more lax about it's secrets, but still. If you don't want to know, don't look.

CW// Mentions of sexual themes, explicit themes, the briefest of mentions of non-con as a theme

This is a really fun question in particular, because it was really something I wrestled with just in the conception of this fic series so many months ago, going back and forth with "do I want to do a rewrite? and if I do, knowing I had a second chance, what would I fix?"

I'll fully admit there are people who remember my fics better than I do (I am looking respectfully at @rllybritrlly whenever literally anything about From Your Memory gets brought up). That meant I really needed to reread my original fics to even remember all the details, what I wrote about them, read my cringe tween A/N's, etc. As Re:1 was the baby that started it all, I really wanted to pay as much homage as possible to it. Also, even so many years later, I still liked the overall plot, even if I felt the details could've been better executed, and I could've done without the various problematic themes. I think I've given the lengthy answer before, somewhere, but the short of it is mostly these major points:

I didn't like the weird sexually exploitative relationship between Zim/Gaz with the kissing/touching. Additionally, I knew I could make the inevitable ZAGR kiss way more dramatic if it was roped into the climax instead of just randomly thrown in the mix in problematic ways from the mid-arc. I LOVED writing the kiss in the rewrite, and it was actually one of the first scenes I rewrote, even before officially announcing/confirming the rewrite.

I didn't like Gaz and Dib's relationship. I love cruel, troubled Gaz, but I don't think it benefited the story to make her so constantly dismissive of Dib, to the point where he was sometimes written like an afterthought. I think IZ as a whole benefits from the complex relationships the characters have with one another, and the Re:MHNY series could benefit from developing those changing relationships rather than stagnating on them.

I had no idea when writing the original MHNY that I was ever going to do a sequel, or the direction of the finale. It was originally a one-and-done until I think the second-to-last chapter, when I decided I had more to write, and liked my readership too much to give it all up with a one-hit-wonder. Now that I know where the finale goes, I really wanted the opportunity to drop more lore, hints, and foreshadowing. The biggest example is Tak, whose name I basically borrowed as recognizable since I was too lazy to make a one-off OC, and only after-the-fact found a way to reweave her back into the third installment. Tak's fate is not going to be the same as it was in the original, and also, in the first rewritten fic, we got more insight into her personality. Not a lot, granted, but enough where the reader would be able to notice changes later on.

Discerning readers may have noticed that I kept the same amount of chapters in the rewrite as I did the original. If you compare chapters 1:1, a lot of the bigger themes parallel one another. Gaz is still ensnared by alien parasitic technology in chapter 1 of the rewrite as she was in the original, albeit in much bloodier circumstances. Zim's motorcycle/car chase in the original in chapter 6 is paralleled by the chase in chapter 6's rewrite, even though the circumstances are vastly different. Zim feigning a long-term, committed relationship in chapter 17 of the rewrite is a big nod to the original, in which Zim bartered for Gaz's life on the premise that they were more together than they really were, even with the kissing/touching premise they had with one another. Additionally, the theme of 'Zim hacks the Valkian ship' stays, even if it's once again executed under different circumstances. The details change, yes, but ultimately the Valkians are still slaughtered. That dedication I made towards keeping Re:MHNY1 as 1:1 as possible was a fun challenge in its way, but it's not going to happen in the sequels.

Regarding Re:mhny2 and Re:mhny3, I will only be borrowing the most basic of premises. As announced earlier this year, Iggins is still in the next fic. However, his differences are major, and a closely guarded secret I have only really shared with I think my internet bestie and my boyfriend. Again, anyone not looking for spoilers may want to skip this ask.

Some sneaky secrets are how I left whether or not Gaz went back to finish the tournament ambiguous. Additionally, that unlike the finale of the original MHNY, Gaz and Dib do not ever have another 'on-screen' discussion after she's rescued. Zim and Dib do, yes, but Gaz and Dib do not. There's a joke in Ch 20 about Zim showing up in his living room with cocoa, but the nature of any sibling conversations, if any even occurred, are also left deliberately absent and/or ambiguous. It's noted that they spent the majority of the aftermath resting, and really not a lot else. The most screen time Dib gets is being thrown out of the operating room in the flashback.

Unlike the original, where Tak was originally just used as a throwaway name-drop when I was too lazy to make an Irken OC or find another way to justify why someone might call to warn Zim about the Valkians, or even know who he was, I currently know Tak's fate in the rewrite, and I knew it when I wrote it, too, which means I got to sneak in that little ominous line of the Tallest when hearing her report in Ch 20.

“Now,” he said, doing his best to shrug off the strain of morning. “Go get that she-Irk again.”

A discerning reader might also have noticed Professor Membrane is not brought home, and never told what actually happened. Aside from some angsty pining from the Membrane siblings, his personal involvement ends when Dib abandons him at his conference and comes home for Gaz. That being said, there's also an interesting few paragraphs that have been brought up and pointed out to me individually before on Discord, and that other readers may have picked up on as well from Ch 18 that are going to be important to the sequels.

She hated this. She hated hiding herself behind veils of cynical wit and aloofness just to survive—to barely endure while she festered inside. She hated her father, drilling into her how uncomfortable people could be around her. That scaring people was wrong. That friends and admiration from peers were so very important. Don’t be angry, Gazlene. Be motivated! Don’t be frightened of change! Embrace it!

Zim had never demanded change. Zim had only ever ripped out the honesty, the worst parts of Gaz that she had buried under years of practiced apathy, and embraced them with open fascination. Sick. Accepting. Conniving.

You killed an Elite, his voice whispered, a caress on trembling limbs.

She had. She remembered every vivid detail like a flash bomb. The fear. The rage. The burning resentment. The same theme over and over. That she never should’ve been there. She never should’ve been here . That something had tried to take her life over nothing . That she had every right to fear for her life. 

The flashbacks that left her breathless. The fear, genuine, and yet underlied with something she dared not admit to even herself. Years of her fathers conditioning cushioning the awful truth of his daughter. She was just a teenage girl—once a child—who should never have been formed this way.

His son had inherited his father’s bravery and passion to learn, and twisted it into a dangerous recklessness. A need for pursuit and answers at all costs.

His daughter had inherited her father’s calculating practicality, and it had mutated into a vicious willingness to do the very worst thing for the necessary reason.

You killed an Elite, she heard once more. 

But this time, a loathsome truth followed. 

And you want to do it again.

As trademark as Gaz's viciousness is throughout the IZ series in general, and in this fic, her strict restraint being pinned on her father's discipline may seem out of place with only this fic to go off of. While it can definitely be read as a standalone, it does (deliberately) give the reader pause. Professor Membrane praises Gaz in the series for being his favorite child, not for being a menace to society as a whole, so where's this coming from? Why are Zim and Professor Membrane playing devil-and-angel-on-her-shoulder in her (concussed) brain? And notably, if that's their assigned role, where Membrane is the voice of restraint, and Zim the voice of rationality, then it should be noted that Zim's voice won. This should leave you asking why that is, and if that's always going to be the case.

A funner teaser is some foreshadowing I dropped throughout the story about what mating is going to look like in this fic. I wrote a lot of what I wrote about sex, love, and marriage under a heavy veil of religious indoctrination, which distorted and I think damaged the potential creativity of my writing. Virginity-cultural stigma somehow shoe-horned its way into my fic, and I don't really want that to happen again, which means there's going to be a lot more lewd scenes leading up to a sexual relationship. We're not just gonna have our characters go from making out to full penetrative sex. That's skipping quite a few bases. I've expanded behind the scenes a lot more information about Irken culture/mating, and while penetrative sex has been established as off-limits until such a time as our two heroes may deign to bind themselves to one another for eternity, I am not going to leave you hanging in the meantime. Some hints however about what mating looks like in the rewrite have been dropped, such as this nibble in Ch 9.

As he'd briefly gone over with the human girl, irken rituals of courtship were far different than any found on Earth. There was no religious entity or documentation, and the ceremony required complete isolation for at least three days.

and

He could never have that with Gaz. For one thing, she had no PAK. Well, she did, but it didn't actually count. Any attempt to encode the PAK was pointless, and furthermore, the PAK wasn't integrated to her brain the way it was to Zim's, or any other Irken's. It held no influence, and no significance to her decisions. While Zim's PAK may bind him for eternity, the human wouldn't be bound by anything other than the whims of her fleeting, mortal affection.

I outright name the ceremony in Re:mhny2, and also plan on further establishing teasers here and there about what's in store.

Skoodge is also a big teaser in himself! Skoodge is a competent invader and a traitor to the Empire, whom Zim has explicitly expressed allyship towards. He is definitely going to be important later on.

Regarding what a clean slate looks like for the sequels, I'll go ahead and name some big ones off the bat. Again, spoilers.

In Re:mhny2, Iggins is ultimately the antagonist, but whether or not he's the or even a villain is going to be something I look forward to watching readers debate about. That's what I mean by clean slate. Iggins was inarguably the bad guy and a major shithead in the original sequel. In the rewrite, Iggins may be a shithead, but what I really disliked about the original was how one-dimensional he was. Additionally, I think it's a more interesting story not for the protagonists to overcome the antagonist in a linear journey, but for the antagonist to grab the protag's by the neck and drag them into the mud with them. What if the hero's journey isn't upward, but one where simply keeping afloat equates success? What if not drowning is the victory? Metaphorically speaking, Re:mhny2 is going to start with fearless characters and end with characters who never look at the ocean the same way again, and are wizened for it.

Whereas the original was just kind of 'watch these characters be badass and mercilessly inflict pain on a bad guy' Re:mhny2 is basically going to be a lot of character self-reflection. I love the IZ characters for their flaws, but we're not going to get real, raw growth out of them if they're not forced to take on their own misdeeds and mistakes by metaphorical knifepoint. Re:mhny2 is going to be about them and the knife. And by them, I mean all 3 of the main cast, plus Iggins.

Re:mhny3 is similar. I'm excited to write about Iggins, but I am ecstatic to get another shot about a Zim-pocalypse. Enter the Florpus gave me so much new source material about what Zim successfully taking over the Earth, even for a short while, would look like, and I'm grateful for its contributions to the finale's development. Zim is still going to take over the Earth. Why, how, and under what circumstances is drastically different, and since its release is much farther out than the sequel, I will restrain myself to only give you this single, but eye-opening question when I talk about major, complete deviations from the plot. I have always regretted my impatience with MHNY3 for many things, but mostly one:

Wouldn't it have been a much more interesting story if Gaz really didn't know what was going on?

I'll just leave that thereeeeee.

For your last question, and one that makes me laugh to even look at, I do have a mental list. I'm pretty sure this'll be the first time I've ever written it down though.

Here are my top ten cringe moments from the original series as a whole, from cringiest to least:

The entirety of every sex scene I ever wrote

Ever writing the phrase "And they hadn't even done anything yet!" during a sex scene -- this is so ingrained in my cringe that I can, even now, tell you exactly where it is in the fic, the context, and wrote it without even needing to reference the phrasing

Implying Iggins would SA Gaz while she was under his thrall, and incapable of consenting (for concerned readers, non-con is not going to pop up in my stories again, and I apologize in hindsight for any discomfort caused)

Zim and Gaz's sexually transactional relationship, especially while Gaz was 14

Gaz getting married when she was only 18 (Gaz is already going to be 18 in the sequel, and will probably be in here early-to-mid twenties in the finale)

Dib being used as a punching bag for Zim and Gaz to be cruel to for cheap gags

Making the Tallests simps for Zim for really no reason other than that I was a simp for Zim and wanted to give him nice things lmao

Tak just sort of popping up out of nowhere as a maid, and blatantly borrowing the themes of servants being 'furniture' from the anime When Seagulls Cry/Umineko

That fucking weird ass segment where I had Gaz have prophetic nightmares (?) in the third one, and wander around a castle like some sort of haunted Victorian child. Really the whole castle scenes themselves were cringe. Get rid of the castle. Wipe it from your minds.

Making Gaz and Zim essentially infallible, unbeatable, and just boring in how completely dominant they inevitably were to any problem that arose. It just sucked the tension out of every situation because I got too bored or impatient with scenes that otherwise could've been much more interesting than they were.

This ended up a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope I answered everything sufficiently!

[stars-n-spice]

I finally went and did it! After fucking months of planning, coming up with ideas, procrastinating, and not doing what I should've been doing to get this done, I finally managed to start on my Khea Nultez fic!

I seriously started this first chapter maybe like,, four months ago. I wrote maybe 1k words and then came back to it, fucking scrapped what I had and rewrote it. Now I've got a 4k first chapter!

To be completely honest with y'all, my ideas are all over the place and I don't actually know how consistent I'm going to be with this or how many chapters there's going to be, but I just really fucking wanted to write something for Khea because I love her and I want you guys to love her too :D

Anywho, without further ado, Jate'Kata: A Course to Steer By!

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The blaster shots echoed through the loading dock, each red bolt another desperate footstep on wet, concrete floors—one after the other. Every other beat was filled with the sound of a thumping heart pounding, rattling, inside the skull of the unlucky soul on the other end of the blaster fire. 

An unlucky soul by the name of Khea Nultez. Mandalorian of Clan Nultez. A Mandalorian who was having an unfortunate, frustrating, just kriffing wonderful night filled with pirates and being shot at. A Mandalorian who, if she didn’t hurry, was either going to miss out on getting her credits or was going to meet the Maker themself. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was worse. 

“Dank farrik, this is what I get isn’t it?” She muttered under shallow breaths, holding her side as she pushed on through the fog surrounding her, gradually losing the trigger-happy pirate goons on her trail. At her hip, her skin crawled and every step with her right leg sent a subtle, sharp spark of pain up her side, all thanks to a newly acquired blaster burn from a stray blaster shot. Thankfully, it seemed to finally be clotting, but it stung and burned enough to be a literal pain in her side. Even worse, it tore a nice little hole in her kute and now she was going to have to patch it up. 

If she made it back alive to actually patch it back up. 

“Ero! Ero! Come in!”

Khea’s strained voice echoed through her helmet, her eyes darting around as she rounded the corner and pressed against a shipping container to catch her breath, confident she finally lost the guys on her trail. She looked down at the blistering wound in her side and made a face, scrunching her nose and sticking out her tongue at the sight of it. That was definitely going to need a bacta patch soon. 

She groaned and covered it back with her hand, “Ero, you better pick up you blue son of a-”

“I’m here, I’m here. What happened?”

Khea sighed in relief at the sound of her friend’s voice through her comms. There wasn’t a lick of concern or worry in his voice (rather, it was more irritation than anything) but Khea was going to skip over that fact because at least for once he managed to pick up. 

“I’m going to need a bacta patch when I get back. Some bastard kriffing shot me,” Khea glanced back down at the wound, frowning slightly, her voice making it out to be some minor inconvenience rather than something that would’ve been a major concern for anyone else who wasn’t constantly shot at on a daily basis. 

“Oh yeah? Gee, I wonder why they did that,” Ero scoffed on the other end, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Khea could practically see him roll his eyes. 

However, a heavy sigh followed it and his tone changed into something a little more sympathetic;  “Where? Is it bad?”

“On my side, my kute is ripped and it’s all blistered and clotting…It’s disgusting,” Khea answered with a huff, making another face at it before her head shot back up at the sound of shouting coming from not too far away from where she’s hiding. 

“I thought your beskar was supposed to save you from this kind of stuff,” Ero teased, making Khea roll her eyes in annoyance. 

“It doesn’t cover everything, di'kut. You know that.” Khea hissed back, lowering her range finder as she poked her head out from the side of the shipping container, trying to pinpoint where the voices were coming from. 

Just a few shipping containers away from her, she spots them–three pirate goons, one of them a Tradoshan who was sniffing the air for her, all of them with blasters, and who were no doubt hot on her trail. With a frustrated sigh, she pulled away from the edge and started moving again, a hand on her wound, the other on her blaster as she hoped the further away she got the harder it would be for the Trandoshan to sniff her out. Those damn Tradoshans and their excellent sense of smell would be Khea’s demise one day, she just knew it. 

“So are you going to have the bacta patch ready or not?” Khea asked in a low voice, the other end of her comm going silent aside from the sound of shuffling around. 

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Ero responded a few seconds later, sounding just a tad bit irritated, “Did you get the vials?”

Khea laughed softly, “Of course I did. Why do you think I got shot?”

“Dunno, thought maybe you accidentally shot yourself while cleaning your blasters again,” Ero chuckled, his voice slowly becoming the more playful and teasing tone Khea knew all too well. 

“That has never once happened, Ero and you know it,” Khea responded, wanting to sound threatening, but her voice came out in a nervous laugh, revealing her lie. 

“Sure thing, burc'ya,” Ero snickers before falling silent. A few moments pass as Khea navigates through the shipping yard, occasionally glancing back to make sure she’s still good when he finally speaks again.

“Get back safely.” 

Khea smiled softly at those words, chuckling to herself as the comm line immediately goes dead after Ero’s said his piece. 

“Sure thing, burc'ya,” Khea replied in a slightly mocking tone, echoing his words from earlier to the silence in her helmet before she hurried along, getting closer and closer to her tucked-away ship. Therefore, getting closer and closer to getting paid. Oh, and seeing Ero again and getting fixed up, of course. But most importantly, getting paid. 

Of course, there were better, safer, ways of getting paid, but this was what Khea knew. It was everything she was familiar with. Thrill and danger, risk and reward. A peculiar dance that Khea knew all the steps to, even if she tended to trip and stumble from time to time. A profession that found her and stayed with her, no matter her attempts to try and leave it. Funny how fate works like that. 

A handful of years ago, Khea had found herself on Takodana, trying to run from everything she ever knew; Mandalore, her parents, her brother, her mistakes, regrets, and memories. On Takodana, she could start anew. She would be a new face, a mystery, a person who walked the line between lies and reality, a free hire, a girl wandering the planet, searching for a purpose. 

It was there where she met Jaawl Wobarc. A filthy Nikto pirate lord who was in need of someone like Khea; an ‘assistant,’ someone who could do his bidding, both personal and business, to ensure his safety and occupy his time. It gave her something to do, it paid well, she had benefits, a ship, and most importantly, a purpose. Or at least, what felt like a purpose. 

It didn't take long for her to realize blindly following someone's orders wasn't what she wanted from life and that maybe somewhere out in the vast, now quickly changing galaxy that maybe there was some better purpose out there for her. Sure, five years was technically a long time but it could have been longer, right? 

So with the help of one, Ero Teval, a Pantoran she managed to befriend (and who she seemed to be unable to get rid of) during her time in Takodana, she managed to get away. 

For a second time. 

That’s how she ended up on Ord Mantell, hiding from Jaawl who thought she was dead, hiding from the Empire who seemed to hate bounty hunters, and hiding from the calling to change what the galaxy was becoming. 

After all, there was no point in returning home, not after what she did, not after what happened. And while Khea held a deep, burning hatred for the newly formed Empire and what they were doing, she knew that there wasn’t much she could do. Just to stay low, keep out of trouble, and figure out a way to make ends meet. 

At first, that meant setting up a repair shop with Ero, fixing things up for once instead of destroying them, a little place they could pretend to call home on the strip of shops and places that lined the market streets. Someplace where they could lay low from everything and pretend they were normal civilians and not a Mandalorian bounty hunter and a Pantoran assassin trying to make ends meet. 

But old habits die hard. 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Khea's eyes widened at the sudden sound of blaster fire and she cursed under her breath. She looked away from the vials in her pouch, mentally kicking herself for letting her mind wander, as she quickly took off again, firing behind her as she weaved through the shipping containers to where her ship, The Jade Rabbit, was waiting. 

The chase was back on again.

Khea ran, hand at her side, blaster firing over her shoulder blindly at the three pirates after her. They were shouting something at her and she was shouting too, nothing that could be made out over the blaster fire, not that it mattered anyway.

"Kriff this…" Khea muttered eyes narrowed in frustration and irritation.

"Might as well give it up now boys!" She shouted back at them as she quickly switched tactics and took to the skies, turning to give herself a better shot at them. "No one likes a try-hard!" 

The Tradoshan snapped and hissed back at her, but Khea couldn't care less about what he was saying about her mother and instead, she lowered her range finder at the three and fired her rocket before they could shoot her from the sky. 

She watched with wide eyes and a grin as the rocket hit its mark, blowing the three back and off their feet. It was glorious, as explosions go, and though she should've dipped the moment the rocket hit its target, she couldn't help but watch for a second or two in admiration. 

Three seconds…four seconds…five-

KA-BOOM!

About a klick away something exploded. Khea looked up to see a great big ball of smoke, flame, and rubble where the pirate’s ship had been. Debris rained down on the ocean and harbor below the ship, hitting other containers and speeders, making them blow up and catch fire just the same as the ship had done. She had just been on that ship, having grabbed what she needed, killed who she needed to, and dipped. There wasn’t a need to blow the ship to pieces, so Khea hadn’t bothered to waste precious explosives on the ship. So whatever that was, for once, was not her doing, and she couldn't help but be jealous of whoever caused it. Her own little explosion looked like nothing compared to the explosion that was happening overhead. 

Of course, all of that didn't really matter. Snapping out of it, Khea shook those useless thoughts away and took off toward the direction of her ship, letting the sound of carnage disappear behind her. She was determined to make sure that one little (big) explosion wasn't going to be the reason she didn't make it back to Ero with what she promised to get for their buyer. Besides, she didn't want to explain to Ero that she got shot out of the sky because she was too busy looking at an explosion and being jealous. He'd never let her hear the end of it. 

"Ero..hey, Ero.." 

Khea muttered into her comms as she hobbled up into her ship, finally safe, readying it to take off. 

"Oh, she lives," Ero’s voice responded almost immediately, making Khea chuckle softly to herself. 

"Yes, I'm headed over now," she informed, sitting down in the pilot seat with a bit of a hiss as pain shot up her side. 

"You alright..? How's the wound?" Ero then asked, hearing the hiss of pain, now sounding just a little more concerned than he usually let himself be. 

"Fine. I'll live," Khea responded, preparing the ship for take-off, ignoring how her side started to sting again as the adrenaline started to wear off. 

"You better…" Ero muttered before adding a quiet, "Get back safe." 

Khea smiled softly and rolled her eyes fondly, "I will…" 

The line went silent for a bit before Ero finally spoke again, "And if it's no trouble for you, we need more caf." 

Khea laughed and shook her head, "Fine..I'll get it on the way. But you owe me." 

"I'll owe you a bacta patch, how about that?" Ero snorted on the other end. 

"Rude," Khea laughed.

"I think you mean 'fair,' burc'ya." Ero cooed on the other end. 

"Whatever, I'll see you soon," Khea chuckled softly before cutting the line and taking off. 

With a sigh, Khea watched as the remnants of the explosion smoke and glow ablaze not too far from her and she silently wondered who exactly caused the explosion and why. She just couldn't help herself. After all, it hadn't been her. Was someone else on the ship? Was it a malfunction? 

As bad as she wanted to know, she had to get out of there, so ignoring her growing questions, she finally took off, and charted back to Ord Mantell. Had she stopped to think about it for a few minutes longer, she would've seen the ship that took off a few klicks away. A ship carrying a batch of some rather disappointed and frustrated individuals who were having just a kriffing wonderful night.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

[thewizardmus]

Adding to this because I love this pairing so much

The girls have range, partially because of how variable Morgan is. Morgan can either be Lucina's childhood friend that doesn't remember anything about the hell they barely escaped, the devoted cultist who has been hunting Lucina and her friends and has developed complex feelings about killing them because they're kinda the only humans she interacts with, or someone Lucina genuinely has no clue who she is, or someone who died in Lucina's arms and is back from the dead because she rewrote that part of the future, or The Fell Dragon's Daughter and any and all combinations of anything I listed and more.

The two of them also work with several of Awakenings major themes, particularly with a Fell Dragon's Daughter or Grimleal Morgan:

"Your Past/ Family Doesn't Define You" - kinda self explanatory, mostly Robin's midgame arc again except this time Morgan actually knows the Grimleal and has more stake in what she's leaving behind.

"The Enemy is Humans and also Victims" - Poorly worded but one of the major themes is that just as how Ylisse was also a victim of Chrom's Father's genocidal war, Plegia is also just as much a victim of Gangrel and the Grimleal, same with Valm and Walhart. Aversa's Spotpass chapter also plays into this, but it's largely a theme that is placed on Chrom and Robin, Lucina doesn't really have any moments that play on this. Morgan being Grimleal and Lucina realizing how much Grima took from one of his most ardent supporters, especially if Morgan is blind to how much Grima actually ruined her life? That puts things into perspective for Lucina though.

A few different plot bunnies/dynamics that I love:

>Morgan w/ Memories wants to save Aversa just as much as Lucina wants to save Emmeryn and Lucina Doesn't Get It because "She's one of the reasons we're in this mess in the first place" (I'm a sucker for Auntie Aversa, the way she works as a foil for Emmeryn, just mwah)

>An amnesiac Morgan traveling with "Marth" and ends up befriending Robin, while Lucina tries to figure out if she should tell Morgan that's her father

>Some Guy(tm) tries thinking since Morgan is the Smart One, he'd be able to trick Lucina, forgetting who Morgan's main chess opponent and bouncing board for ideas is.

>Similar Situation except forgetting Morgan walks around with 50 pounds of tactics books constantly and is in the running for the 4th best swordsman in the Young Shepherds

>Morgan, Heir Apparent/Queen of Plegia, hear me out. Everyone forgets she's royalty. It's the ultimate card up her sleeve. The best possible prank if she uses it at the right time.

>Culture Shock/Differences. Prime opportunities for Plegia headcanons. From "why can't I wear my hood in front of Luci" to "who was that guy? He called you cousin, I didnt think Aversa had kids? Is he a family friend?" "Nope, never met him before in my life"

>Uncle Robin brought a little wyvern hatchling for Lucina to play with and they grew close as can be and then he took it away and when he came back he brought this weird girl who won't stop hugging Lucina?

>Alternatively, The Ylssian Royal Guard have to learn how to deal with the new Fell Dragon in the Crown Princess's room and how to convince it to let Princess Lucina go learn mathematics. She will be back. Lady Lucina, please stop laughing.

>Morgan actually having a lot of Fell Dragon instincts like wrapping around Lucina as much as possible and Lucina finding out about her underground fight club she set up to deal with her urges for violence

>Grimleal Morgan being the one to save Nah from that guy who tricked her into leaving the Shepherd's care and Lucina finding this out mid assassination attempt. (I actually like mixing Nah into this pairing a lot)

I'm gonna be completely honest, I think one of the most overlooked pairings in Fire Emblem is Lucina x f!Morgan. Like, sure, they can't even interact without mods, but they've got the potential to be an adorable couple, and I just wish more people shipped them too.

explain the vision👀

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 5

Thank you for being so patient with me! I hope you all like this chapter, tried to make it super long to make up for not posting it for so long!

I would recommend rereading the previous chapters before reading this one (cause it’s been a while hhhhhh i’m sorrrrryyyy)

Hope you all like it!! <3

“It’s Jesse!” Gill shouted, leaping over the table and towards the curly haired boy. Jesse jumped, but that was the most movement he could produce in those mere seconds as Gill lunged at him and tackled Jesse to the ground, his body letting out a disgusting crack as all of Gill’s weight crushed him against the floor. “I got him down!”

He forced Jesse’s body to face towards Stella, who got atop of the bar and whipped out a sturdy bow and slender arrows with tips gleaming a hue of a sickly green. She aimed the arrow at Jesse’s head, which was being held in place by Gill’s monstrous hand. Maya’s attention was all on Jesse, she walked away from a baffled Olivia and to the boy being held down, cracking her knuckles.

Jesse would’ve been pounded to a fine dust had Aiden not intervened.

“Hey HEY! Don’t kill him!” Aiden grabbed Gill by the shoulders and yanked him off, pushing him aside. Gill stumbled and would’ve fell had it not been more Maya catching him. Stella lowered her bow, baffled by Aiden’s order.

“Well, not yet.” Rose added. Aiden huffed, disregarding his friend’s comment and helped Jesse up with a tight grip on his shoulder.

Gill, Stella, and Maya stared at their friend with a mixture of disbelief and disgust, “Are you on Jesse’s side now?!” Gill asked, his voice cracking a little.

“Maybe he’s been brainwashed, he does look a little pale...” Maya growled as she cracked her knuckles, stepping closer to Aiden.

“Would you LISTEN?!” Aiden shot out, teeth gritted. Maya stepped back to her group of friends, lips compressed as she fought the urge to snap back.

The room became quiet, Aiden let go of Jesse as he bit the inside of his cheek. Stella stepped off the table and subtly tried to bring herself closer to Olivia. Jesse took the time to study his surroundings. Well, mostly the kitchen. Maybe there’d be a weapon--or something similar to a weapon--that he could use to protect himself with, just in case. The first thing that stuck out to Jesse were the two thick wooden poles. One by the end of the light, cool gray bar table, and the other was awkwardly placed by the dark brown kitchen table in the center, surrounded by chairs of the same color but with aqua colored cushions. The poles had to have been built into the house, they were the same color as the kitchen’s maple wood floor and merged with the ceiling. There were no nails, screams, nothing that showed the poles to be an afterthought. But what purpose did they serve? The outside of the house looked stable, maybe it was added for the sake of looking cool?

The rest of the kitchen was absurdly clean. The gray counters that stretched across the wall didn’t have a single stain, and a large, sleek black refrigerator was at the end of the counters. It was cleaned to the point where you could most likely see your reflection. There were dusty brown cabinets up above, most likely containing dishes; Jesse didn’t see a single plate nor cup anywhere, not even a knife block out, there were no visible dishes in or around the sink either. The only thing that WAS on the counter was a simple, gray and black microwave and a coffee machine.

Lastly, of course, was the bar table that Stella stood on. A solid, light gray color with specs of black scattered about, its top as bare as the counters’. A few of its slender, cool gray stools fell to the ground when everyone decided to go on full attack mode.

Jesse was bummed that he couldn’t find any potential weapon, but was impressed by the condition of this place.‘This is a surprisingly tidy place for THIS group… Out of all the people.’

Aiden straightened his green, long sleeved shirt and began, “Rose and I went to the Shrine of Eyes, and the speculations were true: The portal had been activated. However, we didn’t get to see the portal itself in its active state.”

Cassie Rose walked up to her friend’s side, “However, we did find Jesse... And Olivia.” the room managed to get even more quiet, eyes sneaking glances at the black haired girl, who did her best to ignore the unwanted attention.

“You think the portal brought her back to life?” Gill questioned.

“I don’t know.” Aiden answered straightly, he folded his arms and kicked the floor, looking down as everyone watched him, waiting for him to add on to his statement. Aiden paced about, thinking out loud, mumbling possible outcomes to himself; Cassie Rose spoke up, “When we ran into Jesse, he told us he found the portal in a jungle temple and ended up here. He didn’t know where he was, what the Shrine of Eyes was, but... He knew who Aiden was.”

Jesse was debating on whether or not it was a good time to mention he knew EVERYONE in this room, each with their own, unique, terrible experiences, but given the current mood everybody’s in, he decided it wasn’t the best idea.

“That’s the crappiest lie I’ve ever heard.” Maya grumbled.

“Ugh, tell me about it.” Cassie Rose rolled her eyes to the back of her head.

“I agree!” Stella announced as she circled around Jesse, “I don’t see why we’re making this into such a predicament! We know Jesse, right? I thought it was quite CLEAR that he has a couple of screws loose, to put it nicely. ” Stella stuck her nose up, speaking in her typical know-it-all tone.

“Who here thinks our little friend is lying? Just curious.” Stella asked, raising her hand in the air.

Almost instantaneously, Maya raised her hand. Then Gill. And finally, Rose, but not before giving Aiden an almost pitied glance. Jesse, Aiden, and Olivia were the remaining few whose hands were down.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Aiden finally spoke up, “We can’t just have a vote on whether or not he’s lying, none of us know that.”

“Yes, but we DO know Jesse. He’s lied hundreds of times before and you’re making an exception this one time? He’s mad!” Stella responded.

“Hey now wait just a minute-” Jesse spoke up but was immediately interrupted by Maya.

“YOU don’t get a say in this!” She put her raised hand down to point at Jesse in the most aggressive manner he’s ever seen.

“I think I should! You’re all talking about me, might as well add my two cents in this, right?!” Jesse snapped, his response met with angry glares.

“Well alright, go on then! Say somethin’! Whatever the heck’s on your mind, no one’s stoppin’ ya!” Maya growled, sizing up and invading his personal space.

Jesse moved his mouth as he attempted to make some coherent thought or sense of what was going on, soon realizing he really didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t even know how to feel about the situation he found himself in, or whatever the heck he was being accused of. Sure, it made him upset to be ganged up against, but he wasn’t quite sure why. He fell quiet as his face felt hot.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” the large girl spat as she turned back to her friends.

Jesse bit his tongue. He contained his urge to spit a remark back, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. So far, no one seemed willing to talk--let alone explain something--to him without treating him like dirt. They didn’t hide their favoritism with Olivia. So for now, he’ll wait. He doesn’t know much about what’s going on or why people are reacting the way they were, but answers would hopefully come soon. The only good plan that he could come up with would be to remain quiet until he had some information he could work with.

“It’s only a matter of time before his little facade wears off.” Jesse heard Stella whisper to Rose, who nodded once and sternly.

“Well...” Aiden took a deep breath “No one knows what exactly is going on. And honestly, jumping to conclusions won’t help us. So we need to find out.” His voice gaining the sort of confidence you’d hear in a leader.

Aiden stood tall and scanned the room, brainstorming as everyone else waited for him to begin.

“Here’s what’s going to happen: Half of us will go to the library to see if we can find any books or journals that have any information about this portal situation. I don’t care if there’s an entire book about the subject, one whole chapter dedicated to it, even a brief mention! Something is better than nothing.” the group nodded, even Jesse found himself getting more and more drawn into the developing plan.

Aiden continued,  “The other half will watch over Jesse... And Olivia to play it safe.” he hesitated. “Tomorrow, we can go to Hadrian’s little museum, they could also have some relics or books that might contain any information related to this.”

“How’s that sound?” Aiden concluded, eyeing his friends, waiting for their reactions.

Rose whispered to Maya, who then whispered to Stella. The girls began silently discussing amongst themselves as Aiden pondered who should do what.

Someone then spoke up.

“Stella, Maya, and I can hit the library--we’re both thinking about the same library at the edge of town, right? Not the one by Hadrian’s?” Rose asked. Aiden nodded in confirmation. “Good, it shouldn’t be too long of a walk then.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Stella spoke up, all eyes went to her “Why is Olivia getting the same treatment as Jesse?” there was murmuring amongst the girls again as Olivia felt her heart speed up by the mere mention of her name. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight or be the cause of any conflict. Not now.

“Do you really want to put Olivia on the same level as Jesse?” Rose asked almost weakly. Aiden, taken aback, sputtered as his face struggled to match the array of emotions he shifted through until he was able to collect himself and revert back to his previous stern look.

“It’s not that,” Aiden began quietly, “You know that.” Rose folded her arms, locking eyes with Aiden. “Think about what we’re going through. How the town might react if they see her. What could happen to her. Or you!”

“I don’t trust her in the same room with him.” Rose firmly stated, her hands gripping her arms tighter and tighter.

“That’s why some of us are staying behind to watch over both of them.”

“She could come with us to the library...” Rose said under her breath.

“She doesn’t even know where she IS.”

“So this will be a perfect opportunity to jog her memory! It’ll be a trip down memory lane.” Stella slid in between the two, preventing a possible feud from happening. She flashed a small, confident smile at Aiden, fixing the sleeves to her long, striped purple suit that merged with her skirt with a thin, black belt around it; a bit of the white shirt underneath the suit stuck out.

“I think her joining us at the library is a wonderful idea! It’ll be just like old times, I don’t see a reason why not to!” Stella wrapped one arm around Olivia and held her close. Olivia held her breath as Stella pressed against her, her dusty purple lapel brushing against her legs as Olivia’s thick, black hair pushed up against the girl’s face.

Aiden opened his mouth to debate, but Stella put a finger over his face to silence him, “And we’ll be able to keep her out of sight juuusst fine. We’re all--what--a foot taller than her? We’ll just tuck her in the middle of our group and hide her! No problem.”

She began counting off a few other reasons, “We’ll be quiet, we won’t be too suspicious, we’ll bring some weapons with us so we’re prepared for ANYTHIN-”

“And what if Olivia doesn’t want to go?” Aiden interrupted, halting Stella in her tracks. Stella blinked and attempted to work with Aiden’s question. Glancing at Olivia, who looked as if she wasn’t entirely sure about the answer herself.

Letting go of the girl, she hesitated for a moment “Whhhyyyy.... WOULDN’T she want to tag along? Space away from Jesse could help immensely!” she shot Jesse a dirty look.

Stella continued blabbing, trying to convince Aiden to go against his original plan. But he wasn’t budging. He stood tall, arms folded as he looked down on his friend. Stella sounded surprisingly confident despite making up most of her reasons on the fly, but just watching the two interact was like witnessing an unstoppable force clash with an immovable object.

Olivia took the time she had to weigh the pros and cons if she agreed to tag along. On one hand, this could give her an opportunity to find out more about this new world her and Jesse had entered, maybe she could snag a few books and read up on any history, or she could ask questions to the group she’d be with.

But on the other hand, what if this was a trap and they were planning on backstabbing her, Jesse would never know. Or what if she was kidnapped? She’d never be able to see her real home again, all her friends would assume she’s dead. And why do they want her to remain hidden? The way they reacted to her when they first saw her wasn’t natural. It was clear something had happened to her. Had she gone missing? Did she die? She doesn’t want to think about that right now.

All the horrible downsides and possibilities miraculously sparked something in her brain. She turned her head to look at Jesse, whose eyes shifted to meet her’s and gave her a reassuring smile.

‘Do it for Jesse.’ Olivia thought to herself, closing her eyes, ‘You have this opportunity to learn more. This is the step in the right direction to get the both of us home. Where you need to be.’ She opened her eyes; Stella was still going off as Aiden still stood, she breathed in.

“... And did I mention this is the busiest time of the day, no one will pay attention to-”

“I want to join!” Olivia piped up.

Aiden and Stella whirled their heads around, Stella far more enthusiastic than Aiden. He gave Olivia a concerned--worried--look.

“What Olivia says is law, sorry, I don’t make the rules!” Stella sang as she rushed up the stairs, her footsteps could still be heard on the second floor as she banged about before returning, practically flying down the stairs with her arms full of weapons and potions. She placed an iron sword and a few bottles filled with bright magenta liquid into her inventory then began handing Rose her own set of potions.

Taking out her diamond axe, Rose scanned the small crowd in her house, “The girls and I will head out to find what we can while you boys hang around here. Us girls gotta stick together, you know?”

“That sounds like an excuse to make sure I don’t stop you guys from getting killed.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Rose responded simply. “And what of it?”

“You worry too much Aiden, we’ve been friends for yeeaaaarrrsss! You know us!” Stella slid over to nudge him playfully.

“You’re right, I do know you.” Aiden turned to Maya, “Maya. Watch over them. Make sure they don’t get into any trouble.”

Maya nodded, her face tough and cold. “Didn’t know we needed a babysitter.” Stella huffed.

“And before you head out,” Aiden began, Rose immediately groaned. “Head straight to the library, no detours.”

“Got it.” Rose said.

“Get what you need and don’t cause a scene or get yourselves kicked out.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Don’t interact with-”

“Alright dad, I get it. Safety’s important. We gotta go now, bye.” Rose ended as she ran over to join the rest of her friends.

“Let’s go.” Maya ordered and opened the door, watching each girl leave the house. Then she finally left, slamming the door behind her and shaking the house.

The group stood outside for a second in silence, only the sound of the crickets chirping and the distant music played in the nearby stores filled the air. The silence was almost refreshing, a nice change of pace from cluttered conversations that happened indoors. Olivia welcomed the peace that the outdoors provided, and for once, throughout this entire adventure--if you could even call it that--she didn’t feel like she was in the spotlight or in the middle of bickering. It was like a ton she wasn’t aware about was lifted off her shoulders and she felt her stiffened body relax a little.

“Man,” Maya broke the silence, “Even in times like these, Aiden still makes time to lecture us.” a smile crept across her stone cold face. The girls giggled amongst themselves.

They settled down and Stella spoke up, “So, how does this sound: The four of us will walk in a group, two people on the side, one up front so that way Olivia’s hidden in a little huddle!”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be up front.” Maya said and began walking towards the stone sidewalk outside of the house, she tilted her head, motioning the others to come along.

Olivia scurried behind Maya, now coming to terms with just how tall Maya truly was. Sure, Olivia was a few inches below the average height and EVERYONE was a bit taller than her, but Maya was a skyscraper compared to her. She was nearly as tall as Aiden and looked a bit intimidating when looking up at her.

Rose and Stella stood on opposite sides of Olivia, sort of squishing her but she wasn’t suffocating just yet, so no point in complaining.

“We should reach the library in roughly half an hour,” said Cassie Rose,

“So let’s get a move on!” Stella smiled as the group headed off.

~~~~~~

The boys were alone, far apart from each other. The liveliness of the room left at the same time the girls did and Jesse missed the chatter. People might’ve been arguing but he prefered any conversation over the silent treatment he was currently getting.

Jesse sat still, hands in lap, on the green couch in the living room engulfed by darkness. He wanted to turn one of the lights on, but based on the warm welcome he received earlier, he was certain he wouldn’t be allowed to. Aiden and Gill hadn’t said a word after the girls had left and migrated over to the kitchen; Jesse observed the large bookshelf in front of him, skimming the titles he could make out in the dark, listening to the rustling in the kitchen as he thought of a question he could ask to get the ball rolling, but suddenly, someone spoke.

“You’re making coffee? Again?” Jesse heard Gill ask across the kitchen.

Carefully turning his head, he tuned into their conversation as the coffee machine let out a loud beep.

“Yeah.” Aiden responded in a somewhat colder manner, “You want some?”

“Are you stressed again or something? This is like... Your eighth one.”

“I’m not--” Aiden turned and locked eyes with Jesse, his brows creased slightly as he scooted closer to Gill, his voice lowering to an almost inaudible whisper.

Jesse faced the bookshelf again, lips pressed together as his face turned a light shade of red. If he wanted to listen, maybe he could try being more subtle about it. Jesse sat still and tried to make out bits of the discussion in the distance, only hearing a few snippets every so often. He heard Aiden pour his coffee and take a slow sip out of it while occasionally shooting a few glares at him.

The conversation between the two kept going, still as quiet as before, with no signs of stopping or getting louder. Jesse needed to ask a question or say SOMETHING to help get the ball rolling. It was now or never, the worst case scenario would be Aiden telling him to shut up or flat out ignoring him. Either way, it was better than sitting in complete silence, making no progress.

“So, uh,” Jesse raised his voice, “What library is Olivia and the other girls going to? You said there were two of them?”

Aiden’s whisper faded out and he held his coffee cup with a tight grip, his eyes on Jesse.

“... Yeah.” he answered hesitantly.

There was a long stretch of silence before he continued, “There’s the local one, it’s closer and a lotta people visit it. Then there’s the one outside of town, it’s been up for centuries and it’s kept in good shape by the town since it contains a bunch of relics from the past.”

“Why don’t you just take the stuff from the older library and place it into the newer one?” Questioned Jesse who was now leaning his body forward to look through the window, seeing the public library peek out from the side with slim rays of the street lights shining in his face. People could be seen chatting through the library’s yellow tinted windows.

“Cause the guards wanna protect the ancient material ‘n the building itself cause it’s... Pretty old and important.” Gill vaguely explained, not entirely sure of the answer himself. He looked at Aiden for confirmation.

Aiden lifted his cup up and nodded reassuringly, “Yep, that’s the gist of it.”

Jesse adjusted his body to face the other two, sitting on his knees as they dug into the soft cushions of the couch, “Is anyone able to enter?”

“Nope. Only the few who were selected.” answered Aiden, taking another big gulp of coffee.

Jesse opened his mouth to ask why, but it seemed Aiden already knew what he was about to say, as he responded almost impatiently, “We’re the reason the place is still in one piece. We’re allowed to go in. I don’t know who else is allowed in besides us.”

Aiden’s eyes widened and he promptly turned to Gill, “How the heck are Rose and the others gonna get past the guards with Olivia there? They’re gonna notice her.” he shoved his face in his hands and groaned, upset with himself for not thinking about the security of the library.

“Oh come on, they’re smart, I’m sure they’ll think of somethin’.” Gill said. Aiden took a deep breath and stared at Jesse from the corner of his eye as a question began making its way out of his mouth.

~~~~~~~

The girls had been walking for only several minutes and Olivia had already gotten tired of seeing Maya’s back. She wanted to see the scenery of this new area, she could hear other people walking, conversations happening, music playing, doors shutting, yet couldn’t get a snippet of anything. The girls on both sides of her also blocked most of her view. She understood that she had to be hidden from plain sight for unknown reasons, but she was beginning to feel more like a prisoner or a freak who was denied access to see even a glimpse of the world.

Rose, Stella, and Maya would talk amongst each other and would try to get Olivia involved--well--it was mostly Stella and Rose who did the talking, Maya remained silent. Most of what they were saying was quite general to hear in everyday conversations “How’s life been treating you?”, “What have you been up to?”, but something about the questions felt forced. Half of the time, she couldn’t even answer properly.

“Sooo... How have you been?” Stella would ask, hands behind her back.

“Fine, I think? A little shaken up.” Oliva would say.

“Can’t blame you, who knows what Jesse did to you back there” Rose commented. Whatever that meant.

Some questions were odder and Olivia wasn’t sure if she should just respond with a “I don’t know” or lie through her teeth to get on the good side of these girls. Sure, they were acting pleasant to be around, but Olivia was waiting for one of them to slip up. All three of them hated her in one way or another, and having the three of them surrounding her, hiding her, AND taking her to a library--which could be a lie for all she knew--was setting off a million alarms. Even if all three of them had forgotten or had made amends with all of the past experiences they’ve had together, it still felt wrong to be so close to them, trying to talk to them as if they’ve been friends for so long.

“Did you miss this place?” Rose asked, arms folded casually.

“I’m... I don’t know.” Olivia answered honestly.

“Yeah, nothing’s really memorable about Obsidian Town.” the red head chuckled. She asked another question, “How’re you feeling?”

“I asked that exact question not even five minutes ago!” Stella huffed.

“No, I asked her about how she’s feeling, you asked about how she's been. Huge difference.”

“Do you want an honest answer?” Olivia asked, feeling the regret build up almost instantaneously. What if they gang up on her? Get angry? All she had to defend herself was the remains of a freaking lever.

“Sure.” Rose gave a casual smile with her eyebrows lifting up.

Olivia felt a knot in her stomach, wishing Jesse was there by her side.

“I feel like there’s this whole story going on that I just got shoved into. I’m just... Confused.”

There was no response at first, everyone avoiding staring at Olivia’s general direction. Stella let out a broken laugh.

“I suppose that’s... Normal, Considering what you’ve been through. But that’s why we’re here to help out.” Rose said as she shoved her hands into her pockets, looking more and more uneasy by the second.

“Oh I completely understand how you’re feeling. It just feels like you aren’t--or ANY of this is.... Real, you know? I’m just waiting to wake up or turn around one second and you just disappear! It’s all so surreal.” Stella flashed her a smile as if that was supposed to be reassuring.

Olivia stared at Stella, not even sure how to follow up with that statement.

“... What happened to me?”

Stella tapped her chin, “What happened to--Oh we don’t know either!” she flicked her hands up, “That’s why we’re getting some items from the library to find out!”

“I appreciate that but I don’t even know where I am or--or what’s going on!”

Stella’s smile began fading, “Well you remember US, don’t you?”

She placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder, her eyes begging Olivia to say “Yes”.

“I... I do but I think we’re on completely different pages.” Olivia didn’t want to outright tell all of them that they’ve all treated her terribly in the past in fear of making the situation more severe.

Rose spoke up, “When Aiden and I found the two of them at the temple, Jesse didn’t seem to remember anything besides who Aiden was.”

She began pulling on a long lock of her hair and looked down, “I suggested that he might have amnesia. Maybe it was a side effect from the portal, but he dismissed it.”

“Are you implying that Olivia might also have amnesia?” Stella’s eyes widened, “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?!”

Olivia didn’t know how to feel about literally being in the middle of an argument about her. It wasn’t a fun experience, that was a fact.

“Because Aiden and I weren’t sure! I’m still not sure! That’s why we’re heading over to the library!” Rose argued.

Before anything could spiral out of control, the small girl spoke up.

“When you all saw me, your reactions... You all looked like you saw a ghost. That’s not normal. What made you react like that?” Olivia felt Stella’s hand slide off of her and watched it fall to the girl’s side.

Rose looked away again, as if that’d give her a pass from answering the question. Stella sealed her lips like she was forbidden from giving out a proper explanation. Olivia waited for one of them, ANY of them to reply.

“I...” Maya started but paused to think. “The best way I can put it? You’re not supposed to be here. That’s all.”

Olivia shook her head, that might’ve been an answer but it was still vague.

“That doesn-”

“That’s. ALL.” Maya raised her voice.

Olivia stopped dead in her tracks, the other girls were as taken aback as Olivia was.

Maya looked around to see the thrown off expressions on her friends' faces, she then scanned the area around them and noticed that a few bystanders had stopped to see what the commotion was about. They might have been farther from the liveliest area of their town, but there were still people around. People who don’t need to know what’s going on.

Maya sucked air in through her teeth, “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I’m sorry.”

With guilt on her face, she turned around and shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “We need to go. We’re almost there.”

She fell silent again as she continued walking with heavy steps.

Rose nudged Olivia along, “She’s right, we can talk about this later, okay?”

Olivia began walking, but it felt slower somehow as she gave the girls beside her an anxious exchange before saying “... Okay.”  

~~~~~~~

“So,” Aiden started as he pulled two chairs out from under the kitchen table, Gill soon pulling out his own and sitting down. “You came through a portal that was in a jungle temple, right?”

He asked as he leaned his upper body over one of the sturdy, dark brown wooden chair.

“That’s right.” Jesse nodded, taking off Olivia’s hat--which he had nearly forgotten about--and began fidgeting with its side straps.

“And how-” Aiden stopped.

“Why don’t you sit down over here?” he suggested, tilting his head to the empty chair between him and Gill.

Jesse eyed the chair then Aiden.

“Sure...” He got off the couch, his eyes staying on the chair as he made his way over to it. Jesse remembered that Rose had lended him the extra pair of large, dark blue pants when he heard the bottoms of it rub against the wooden floor with each step. He really wants to take those off.

Aiden watched Jesse with serious yet collected eyes, while Gill’s were much wider and suspicious.

Sitting down, Jesse instinctively gripped the seat with his fingers tightly.

Aiden reworded his question from before, “What was it like on the other side of the portal?”

“Well,” Jesse squirmed around, feeling Gill’s intense stare on him. There was no way to incorrectly answer this but Jesse felt as though saying the wrong thing could lead to awful reactions.

“Olivia and I went through this kinda big jungle temple, I spotted it when I saw it glowing in the distance and wanted to check it out with her. There weren’t any mobs, the place itself was pretty beaten up. Lotta furniture and items broken or really dusty, redstone powder smeared everywhere. I uh... We saw a plank of wood with light pouring out of it,” Jesse pointed at the floor as if he were trying to recreate the experience. He hopped out of the chair and knelt down.

“We opened it and underneath was a thin staircase with an even thinner hallway,” he moved his arms in front of him parallely.

“And we just... Ended up here.” he shrugged.

Gill seemed like he was still trying to picture the event, Aiden, however, understood and asked the next question.

“You had a home?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of like this town in a way? Though not as many revines or a shrine... Or a large, obsidian wall. Uhm, there are some temples and old mines here and there, though mostly a larger mining system. I used to live in a treehouse with my friends before we moved to Beacon Town. And uh--uhm...”

Jesse fumbled with his words when struck with the realization that describing your hometown was quite difficult at--what was possibly--the worst time to find out. Beacon Town was great, he loved it, but he mostly remembered all the adventures or the events that had happened there rather than its appearance.

Aiden’s face shifted for a brief moment, almost looking confused or surprised. What made him react that way was unknown to Jesse, however.

“What kind of stupid name is Beacon town?” Gill laughed uncomfortably.

“I don’t see Obsidian Town winning any awards any time soon.” Jesse frowned and got up.

Gill glared at him and stood up, “I bet you thinkin’ I’m gonna fall for some big fat lie, don’t you? That I’m too ‘stupid’ to know what’s goin’ on. Well I can see through this dumb lie of yours! Aiden-!” he turned to his friend, expecting back up, but saw him with his hand slightly up, as if motioning him to settle down.

“Gill,” Aiden breathed in,  “We’re not sure if-”

“Not sure? But Jesse’s lived HERE all his life, YOU know that, I know that! And then- then he went missing and some portal activated--Aiden, come on!” Gill was clearly frustrated, close to fuming, even.

“Rose thought that too. I’m not saying I believe Jesse, I don’t,” Aiden glanced at the boy on the couch, “But if it turns out he didn’t activate the portal-- but just found and went through it, then we have a bigger problem in our hands. And we’ll probably need him.”

“This is makin’ everythin’ so much harder than it should be!” Gill clenched his fists and heaved heavily.

“I’m telling you the truth,” Jesse said, “I’ve never been here, I don’t know anything!”

“So you don’t remember ANYTHING about this place?” Gill stomped up to him, leaning close with teeth gritted.

“From what I’ve seen so far, it’s just a shrine, a barricaded--but friendly--town, and a whole lotta revines.” answered Jesse.

Gill licked his lips and breathed in, almost unsure about what he asked next,

“Do you remember anything about us...?”

That was when things got tricky. He did know them. He’s had past experiences with everyone he’s met so far. But they’ve all been BAD experiences. What was he supposed to say? Was there any nice or softer way to explain?

“... Kind of.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! How could you remember us but not your own home-?!” before another tangent could break out, Aiden spoke up,

“Gill,” Aiden placed his hand on his friend’s chest, making him step back. Aiden stood tall and towered over Jesse, causing Jesse himself to shrink.

“What do you know about us?”

Jesse opened his mouth but stopped. He was beginning to wonder if this was an elaborate set up, how could Aiden not remember Sky City? Nearly killing him twice along with his friends and the founder. And even if Aiden decided to move past that, that still didn’t explain the bitter treatment from everyone else. He was being talked down to, shamed for something he had done but he doesn’t know WHAT, he wasn’t being treated like an enemy or rival, but like a villain.

“Well, uh... Good question. Where to start…” he fixed his posture and adjusted the straps of his suspenders. ‘Don’t go crazy with the details,’ he told himself, ‘You’ll be here forever trying to explain everything.’

“You were a part of a gang called ‘The Ocelots’, but that changed into ‘The Blaze Rods’ over time. Gill was in it too but he didn’t really do much.”

Gill crossed his arms and furrowed his brow.

“I’m just saying what I know, don’t take it as a personal attack.” Jesse reminded him. “You used to be our rival gang, my friends and I would try to beat you at Ender Con every year but kept losing. Then one year, we almost won. I remember it pretty well, you were building a rainbow beacon, we decided to build this giant, wool creeper with fireworks, and people loved it. But you saw our build and broke something that held lava, you made it go everywhere! Our creation burnt down but I didn’t really care about that at the time, Rueben’s costume was on fire and… Yeah.”

“Really?” Aiden said, seemingly discontent. It was almost like he knew there was more to this story and waited for Jesse to continue. Should he? Jesse avoided direct eye contact with Aiden, debating whether or not he should explain the rest of their past interactions.

“Why would I lie about something like that?” Jesse laughed, “Do you think I just made up an entire story out of thin air? Why would I make up something that elaborate when I could’ve just said ‘I don’t remember?”

He leaned back and groaned, “I don’t know what I’d need to do for you to believe me, but if you wanted physical proof, unfortunately--for the both of us--that’s gonna be kinda hard.”

Jesse dug his nails into the wood of the chair, brainstorming on what to say next.

He was beginning to shake.

Shake?

Aiden stood up and didn’t say a word. No one did. His cup began trembling, clinking against the table, the table itself started to shiver but quickly turned into a much more violent thrashing. “Oh great.”

Jesse got out of the chair--which fell to the ground and began bouncing about as the ground shook more and more. The world let out a low rumble that fueled Jesse’s panic. He tried his best to remain standing, but that was impossible when the whole world was trying to knock you down. He saw Gill and Aiden grab onto the thick wooden pole, unfazed by the abrupt quake. The world let out a low rumble that fueled Jesse’s panic.

“Hey, it’s great that you’re being cool under this sort of situation, but what’s going on?!” The rumbling nearly drowned out Jesse’s question.

Aiden, despite having no idea what he was just asked, responded “Just grab onto something, it’ll be over in a second.”

Jesse wobbled over to the pole and gripped it tighter and tighter like that’d somehow put a stop to the shaking. The clanking and thrashing of the dishes, books, and furniture boomed in Jesse’s ears. Everything sounded chaotic. Jesse was starting to wonder if he was exaggerating how extreme the quake was based on Aiden and Gill’s borderline nonchalant reactions.

But then, it stopped. It had to have lasted no more than thirty seconds, but it felt so much worse.

Jesse cracked an eye open and, to his surprise, almost everything still stood. The bookshelves in the living room, the lamp, the few cabinets. The kitchen was fine as well, no cracks, nothing shattered, no plates fell. The only things that were on the ground were the chairs and Aiden’s cup. Jesse still held on to the pole, processing what had just happened in a matter of seconds.

“Right, anyways…” Aiden let go and picked up his cup along with a chair. Gill helped out.

“Anyways?! The world thrashed us around violently--out of NOWHERE--and you’re acting like it was no big deal!” Jesse stammered.

“Yeah… It’s just a quake.” Aiden said as if that was to be expected.

Jesse watched the two set the chairs back up, eyes still wide, still trying to make sense of everything.

~~~~~~~~~

Olivia had gotten lost in her own thoughts, no longer paying attention or attempting to see her surroundings. Instead, she kept her head down, looking at the ground and watching her feet. She’s noticed that the farther they walked from Obsidian Town, the colder the air got. She was thankful that Aiden had given her his leather jacket. Thick trees began replacing the buildings on the sides of the path, the path would look more damaged and worn down with each step, moss peaking through the crooked cracks.

Any conversation had come to an end and Olivia couldn’t help but feel bad for making the atmosphere much more gloomy than it was earlier.

“Ah, hello girls!” a voice greeted them cheerfully.

Maya stopped in her tracks and Olivia--who wasn’t paying attention--ran right into her. She rubbed her black hair down, trying to control the frizz going on.

“Great to see ya again this fine evenin’!” The man--a guard--said, tipping his murky green service cap.

It felt nice to finally hear another person’s voice. Looking up, Olivia was able to see the towering structure about them. It was a few stories high, resembling an old, smaller, medieval tower that was... A pale color that reminded her of quartz or sandstone. There wasn’t much light to illuminate the building except for the two front lights on both sides of the door, and that was just the front entrance.

She was able to see the top just fine, not that that really helped at all. The roof was flat and sort of... Noticeably crooked? The place had seen better days.

The shape of the library almost reminded her of those castle towers--they had a specific name to them--a square stone keep? Either way, she’d see those in many books about structures from hundreds of years ago, so it was interesting to see bits of it in person.

“Hey Logan, just the three of us. Aiden wanted us to look for something.” Rose said to the guard while motioning towards the group.

“Alright, just remember to return whatever it is you borrow! And remember...” He nodded slowly but something caught his eye as his words drifted away. He attempted to peer in between the girls, noticing movement in between them. Rose saw and poked Maya’s arm, who turned her head towards the red head; Cassie pointed to the man.

“Aright, just remember to return whatever it is you borrowed! And remember, it’s a full moon tonight, so be careful!”

“We gotta go, we can’t take too long.” Maya said in a harsh tone and walked quickly towards the library’s entrance without giving Logan a second thought as she pushed him to the side. The other girls huddled together and followed behind.

Olivia, while being hurried into the library, was able to catch a glimpse of an old, cracked sign above the doorway, “St. Stephen’s”.

Logan scratched his head and shouted behind them “Be careful! Tonight’s a full moon!”

“Thanks, Logan~!” Stella beamed, waving to the guard before going back to her friends and scoffing “Does he think we’re blind? I’m pretty sure I know when a rock in the sky is ‘full’.”

They all chuckled.

Walking through the entrance, towering columns made of stone, cracked and worn away by age, held the building strong as it must have done so many years ago.

Walking in, she saw the cobblestone floor, chunks missing and the surface rigidity from how many have walked on it in the past.

The books were placed in sturdy, dark oak shelves that stood several feet proudly. Her eyes trailed up from the shelves and followed the wide staircase that led to the second floor with even more books. Long vines hung from the rails of the dark oak and spruce stairs, the rails themselves were made up of stone, which would fade into stone bricks and then to the columns to support such big stairs, some were covered in moss like a fine, thick carpet. There was another staircase that probably led to another floor full of books. As the girls walked down the path, dark wooden slabs placed on each side helped refine the shape and allowed it to stand out from the rest of the floor instead of merging them together and creating a jumbled mess.

There seemed to be four paths that met at the center of the building, one North, East, and West, but the South path had another entrance--an exit?-- that was blocked off by debris that must’ve been caused by a storm of some sort.

Where the paths met, there was a large square shape in the center of the library, bringing a sense of symmetry and completion.

The girls stopped at the center and spoke in whispers; Olivia looked up and saw an enormous wooden chandelier, candles lit and gleaming brightly like stars in a cold, dead night. The candles--which emitted a warm, red glow--could only light up a majority of the third floor and slowly faded farther down, keeping the first floor mostly consumed in darkness. Regardless, it helped the place feel calming and secure with such a wonderful, faint glow.

Olivia breathed in the mixed fragrance of old books and dampened wood. An odd combination that led to such a specific sense of nostalgia. It almost reminded her of way back when; when her and Jesse used to live together in that old tree house of theirs.

“Alright,” Cassie Rose spoke up, “The type of books we’ll most likely need to look for is anything about portals-”

“Duh.” Stella commented.

“Maybe books about summoning or banishment if possible, maybe a book about The Hero’s Banishment itself and... Hm...” Rose began biting the top of her lips as she tried to conjure up any other possible targets for them to search for.

“Do you think books about old crafts might be useful?” Olivia suggested, wanting to contribute to the situation even by a little bit.

“Anything helps. I can search the second floor.” Rose stated.

Stella started walking to one of the many rows of shelves past the girls, “I’ll see what I can find on the first floor.”

“I’ve got third.” Maya said before heading towards the stairs.

Olivia stood alone with Rose, they would exchange a few glances, but none of them knew what to say. Olivia played with her hair as Cassie Rose took off her glasses to clean them with her shirt.

“I’ll-” the both of them started before quickly stopping.

“You first.” Rose insisted.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, “Sorry--But if it’s alright with you, I could join you upstairs?”

Rose’s face lit up some, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Rose made her way up wooden stairs, her steps and the creaking of the wood echoed throughout the place which made Olivia cringe. Every library she’s ever been to, heck, any older place she’s ever stepped foot in, she’s always tried to be as quiet as possible. It felt like a sign of respect.

Even though the four of them were probably the only ones to be in this ancient place, she still tip-toed her way up, falling a bit behind Cassie Rose.

Despite how cracked and rough the stairs appeared to be, they were surprisingly sturdy. There were planks of wood missing, but you could easily walk around or over them thanks to how wide the staircase was.

Olivia looked past the stone railings and out upon the sea of bookcases; they were all set up so carefully, all in long, neat rows that would stop when they’d reach the one of the four paths. But seeing them so aligned made her worry that if one tipped over, it’d cause a domino effect.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Stella’s arm, the purple sleeve to her suit and all. She was grabbing a thin, dark red book from the very top shelf. Rose had already reached the top of the stairs and was already approaching the large shelves that the second level had to offer.

Olivia grabbed onto the smooth rails but felt her hand shaking. Was she nervous? Cold? She gripped the rails tighter.

She wasn’t shaking.

It started as a quick tremble but soon turned into a violent thrashing. The stairs swayed as if they were in the violent, unforgiving heart of the ocean, the bookcases remained in place thankfully but still shivered terribly, books fell to the ground, their thick covers hitting the ground with loud smacking sounds which mixed with the unholy, thunderous booms and groaning from the library itself. Rose held onto one of the large, stone columns, looking more frustrated than frightened.

Olivia clutched onto the railings and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that the quake would come to an end.

As the columns shook, a low rumbling sound could be heard, soon followed by a loud cracking sound that pierced Olivia’s ears. The railing she once held onto with her dear life crumbled into millions of pieces; she lost her balance and felt herself soon falling, unable to catch herself as everything around her felt as if it was moving forward faster.

She heard someone shout her name as she prepared herself for a terrible impact, when all of the sudden...

Everything stopped.

The shaking, the loud rumbles, even her falling.

Opening her eyes, she found Rose grabbing her hand--practically crushing it--while her other hand held onto what remained of the railings to prevent herself from being dragged down by Olivia’s weight.

“I gotcha...” Rose grunted. She used both of her hands to pull Olivia back up, her grip was strong as her long nails dug into the girl’s arm.

Olivia tried to reach the staircase with her free hand to help Rose hoist her up so she wouldn’t be dangling uselessly. Once her hand felt the rugged wooden steps, she held on to it securely, hoping she wouldn’t get any bits of wood jabbed into her.

Taking a few steps back, Rose successfully brought the girl back up to the floor. Olivia looked back at the drop and her vision blurred some. It wasn’t a massive fall, but it was enough to cause a good amount of damage. Maybe crack her head open? Break a leg?

She saw parts of the column beneath her reduced into chunks of rocks scattered across the floor.

‘Don’t worry, it’s over with, you’re fine.’ Olivia reassured herself, her breath fast as she tried to recollect her thoughts that zoomed all around.

“You okay?” Rose brought Olivia back to reality, who nodded rapidly.

“Yea... Yes, thanks. Thank you.” she said, still shaken up. “I think that’s enough excitement for today.”

Maya looked down, leaning over the stone fence that surrounded the edge of the third floor, “You good???” her voice boomed through the hollow area.

“Yeah, some quake huh?” Rose said back, her head looking high up at her friend who didn’t really hear what she said clearly but nodded anyways and continued her book search.

“Can’t believe it took so long for this old place to finally fall apart some.” Stella chimed in.

‘Why are they acting like this is so normal,’ Olivia thought to herself as she watched the girls converse at completely different areas of the large library. ‘I’ve never felt the ground shake so much before. That was insane.’

Footsteps from the entrance could be heard along with huffs and puffs of air. Logan rushed in and zipped his head about; he froze when he saw the pieces of the stair’s support smashed. Adjusting his cap, he made his way over to the small scene to observe the damage that’d been done.

A long sigh left his mouth, “Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time... It’s going to take a little while to rebuild this but,” he gave a comforting smile “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece!”

Logan speed walked back to where he came from,

“I’m going to alert the others about this, be safe!” his voice trailed off before he was out of sight.

He came and went so suddenly that no one had any time to respond. But there were other things to worry about. Olivia ran over to Rose’s side, attempting to regain her cool as quickly as the others just... Couldn’t. Throughout all of the adventures she’s been through, despite everything that she’s seen and experienced, she would still get so... Frightened, to put it nicely. If she had more time to prepare for these sorts of situations or was just better prepared in general, she’d be able to save herself or make herself useful instead of following everyone around like a lost puppy. But for now, there was nothing to work with, that’s why she needed to take full advantage of this current location.

“Hey, Rose, thanks for saving me back there again.”

“Cassie, you can call me Cassie Rose,” Rose said as she picked up a small stepping stool leaning against one of the bookcases and holding it against her chest, walking through the rows filled with thousands of books.

Olivia, a bit taken aback, “Shoot, I’m sorry-”

“No, no, no! Don’t be, I didn’t mean it in a bad way, we’re friends--even if you don’t exactly remember--my point is: You can call me Rose if you’d like.”

Each case had a little label--which contained specific orders of numbers and letters to keep everything organized--placed into the smooth, dark oak shelves. And right above those were thin, wooden strips of a lighter color nailed in. There were words written on them, some far more faded than others, but they were most likely labels to show which genre was where. Rose would scan the worn down signs as she walked.

“You probably got a little mixed up cause Aiden calls me that, didn’t you? He’s the only one that calls me that. Except a few other close friends but they rarely call me that...” She took a sharp turn to the left and caught Olivia off guard, causing her to skid to a halt and stumble her way around the corner to catch up.

Rose carried on, “Aiden’s pretty bad with names, he could only remember mine cause of my red hair. And it just sorta... Stuck with him.”

Pushing up her glasses up and setting the stool down, Cassie Rose began muttering the names under her breath while skimming the hundreds of titles before her. Olivia felt a strange presence in the red head’s voice. It sounded almost as if she were talking to a child with a more gentle tone compared to the cold, harshness that was delivered to Radar earlier.

Rose hopped up on the stool and grabbed a couple of books with titles that caught her attention and started piling them into her arms. She made her way down the row of dusty shelves, her hair would sometimes brush the tips of some of the shelves, causing dust to fly into the air and trail behind her.

Rose started out with three books. Which soon turned into five.

Then to eight.

Then to--

“Crud-!” Rose felt her foot get stuck in a small hole that blended in with the dark, old wooden floor resulting in her books flying across the thin hall. Cassie luckily saved herself by grabbing onto a nearby case, but watched the books fall and slam into the ground as their loud landings echoed. Olivia felt her face scrunch up.

Cassie Rose wasted no time.

She pushed up her glasses, sat down, and hurriedly picked them up.

Olivia joined in and started piling the books by her side.

“Let me carry some, I don’t want you to do all the work.” she said as she’d read the titles of whatever she could get her hands on.

“Thanks.” Cassie said through the sound of books shuffling.

Most of the books that Olivia could get her hands on were on the thinner side but were heavily worn down. While age did have a factor on the books’ duller colors, yellowed pages, and weakened spines, it was clear that these were used and checked out possibly hundreds of times. The old pages had been smoothed down, odd stains and blotches would decorate the covers while rips and tears would also stretch across them.

“The Progression of Portals”, a lightweight, purple and red book with a vague shape of a nether portal etched into the front.

“The Combinations of Enchantments” had it the worst out of the three books. Half of the title was torn and a giant, dark brown stain made it look as if that were its color.

The last book was nothing too interesting. Just a pale red cover, the book itself was filled with crafting recipes. However, it was written nearly a century ago. Suppose THAT’S interesting enough to warrant a raised eyebrow.

Neatly stacking the books, she carefully lifted the tower up and carefully balanced it as it leaned against her chest. Cassie Rose did the same, albeit in a sloppier manner.

She continued to select whatever caught her eye but walked slower, not wanting to recreate the same incident.

Olivia followed behind, a strand of her black hair got in her face and bounced about but she paid no mind to it as she felt a question make its way out of her mouth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Just did.” Cassie stated.

She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but smile.

“Hilarious. But what was with that horrible earthquake back there? Thanks again for saving me but none of you were too shaken up by it.”

Cassie Rose flashed her a quick confused and surprised look--as if Olivia had unknowingly said something derogatory--before picking up another book from the top of a shelf, gnawing the inside of her cheek lightly.

She blew some air out before spinning on her heel to face Olivia and continued to walk backwards.

“You know... Full moon? Quakes are the worst during a full or new moon. That’s why Logan gave us that warning. I mean it happens every night but that’s normal. Happens all the time.” She spoke as if this was supposed to spark something in Olivia’s mind.

Olivia shook her head as her hair batted her eyes, “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

There was an odd sense of guilt she felt even when she was speaking the truth. Watching Rose’s face fall and attempting to put it back together made her feel worse. Maybe she needed a reassuring lie to keep her moving, but as much Olivia hated the queasy stomach aches produced by her honesty, she knew lying wouldn’t make anything better.

Rose forced a chuckle out with no smile to accompany it.

“What? Are you serious? I thought you would! You were the one who helped us make a house structure sturdy enough to withstand the shaking!”

“I’ve never been to your house until tonight. It felt like walking into a strangers home-”

“Yes you have, Olivia. You’ve lived with us for years, can’t you try to recall anything at all?” Rose trembled, clearly holding more back with barely enough strength to do so.

“I don’t--”

“YES YOU DO. You SHOULD.” Rose rushed to Olivia’s face, her eyes unblinking and pleading.

“You lived with us, you’ve been with us for years--Are we THAT forgettable?”

Rose gripped the books as she tried to restrain herself. She knew that getting upset wouldn’t help, that it wouldn’t change the situation, but she couldn’t stop herself from venting to the clueless girl.

“I’m your friend and--And the fact you didn’t even... You didn’t even recognize me! Do you know how much that hurts?” her voice fell into a weary state.

Olivia blinked. Fazed by Cassie’s sudden burst but remained silent for a moment. There was nothing she could do, say, or think of that could comfort her.

“I don’t.” Olivia admitted.

She carefully set the books down and put hands in the pockets of the leather jacket.

“I think I’m going to walk around here... Just to have some time to myself.” Olivia didn’t wait for a response, instead, she turned and started walking--almost wanting to run away--from Cassie Rose.

Olivia heard Cassie’s defeated voice echo through the dim, hollow library.

“You do that.”

[cyanide-latte]

1, 4, 19 (if applicable), 23, and 36 for the writing asks? 😊

Oooh, thank you, Ace! There’s a lot here, so I’ll put it under a cut! I’m also tagging @ajarofpickledtears since I think a lot of these were also in the giant ask you sent me lol

1: Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Oh gosh, a lot of the early ones that I started writing back when I first began writing again at age 19. I still love the stories as they are, especially as time capsules that I can use to track my growth as a writer, but if I rewrote them now, they'd be more polished and have better pacing and less unnecessary side characters or plot threads that went nowhere.

4: Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

Dozens. Literally dozens (there's one fandom where I have over 50,) and the vast majority have stories or are featured in another's story. Since getting started on writing for various horror properties, I haven't made a ton more, but I do have a fair few, I'm writing stories for some of them (and others are featured in stories I'm writing for canon characters.) The one I have a soft spot for is actually my s/i for horror properties! I've not actually had an s/i oc be the focus character of anything since I was in middle school (I've had s/i ocs before but it was always a case of, just a random background character that if a reader knew me well enough, they'd recognize my cheeky little waving at them,) but I'm very attached to Hardy and I do want to make an extremely self-indulgent Hellraiser fic for them eventually (they'll also be in DBD stuff.)

(Art by my friend @rocky-road-art )

19: Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

   “I’m pleased to tell you both that we can now safely say all of our hard work and effort together has been a success!”

There was something too happy and artificial in the way she spoke, like some of the electronic toys they still had that were for children far younger than them, and it made Gabriel’s stomach churn, even as Emily reached out and squeezed his arm.

“You’ve been excellent as always, Emily.”

Gabriel slid a quick look to his sister. She wasn’t beaming back at the doctor, wasn’t even fully smiling, but there was an excited alertness to her. Something like hope shone in her eyes. He couldn’t bear to stare at it for too long, and turned away. Not sure what else to do, he looked down at his own lap, resting his other hand in it and looking at the band around his wrist.

“And you, Gabriel,” the woman continued, her voice a gentle, loving sort of croon one used for a puppy they might especially be fond of, “you’ve done so very well.”

23: Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

I mean, I don’t mind either? The challenge with dialogue is just making sure I have enough understanding of the characters and how they would interact in order to really make dialogue flow well, and description is a delight because I think visually; it’s holding back on description that I’ve had to practice on the most over the years, and I’d like to think I’ve gotten fairly good at not overloading on description.

36: How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

OH THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS, I WAS HOPING I’D GET THIS ASK!! So, ever since I came back to writing at age 19, I’ve always done two-word titles for my long-running multichapter fics. This was due to the fact that at the time, one of the sites I used to upload fics to had a hard character limit on the titles of uploads, and I would need to make sure I tagged for the fandom, the title, and then indicate what chapter number each upload was. It forced me to get creative with naming my fics. I figured two words would easily help with the title character limit, and I wanted the titles of my fics to be symbolic or at least indicative of themes and/or ideas that run through the frame of the story.

Again, it really forced some creativity, and after a while, I was just kind of known for naming my on-going multichapter fics with poignant two-word titles. I used to be a lot more liberal with naming various oneshots and drabbles whatever. But (again) since I started writing for horror properties, I’ve gotten into a habit of now naming most oneshot/mini-fic/drabble pieces with single-word titles. That’s way more of a challenge and really forces me to think about how I want the fic perceived. (Sometimes I still indulge with a longer title here and there on a oneshot; I have a recent one that’s a phrase, and another that’s titled for song lyrics applicable to the ship I was writing for.)

As for which one I’m the most proud of, aaahhh...I’m not actually sure, I’m proud of a great many of them, really. ^^; I really tend to pat myself on the back about figuring out names I like for my fics.

[artyandink]

Hey, Zep! Thanks for checking this out 💕 Getting right into the comments…

Ughhh CJ! He's such a combination of sweet "good guy" vibes and also frustrating beyond belief. 🙃💜 But it's understandable since Jen breaking up with him was the catalyst for it. 🥲

You got that right. CJ’s annoying because he can sometimes be a walking contradiction, but he’s also so sweet and adorable and you can’t help but like him all over again.

😂😂 This one got me.^

It came to me randomly, and I just had to put it in. Cause CJ knows how to make our girl feel happy. With coffee and kisses.

If this is their "breakup" after Jen finds out Gran has cancer, then I do have major sympathy for her of course. She's unfortunately one to self-sabotage, no matter how frustrated that made me while watching the show. 😪

Yeah, I didn’t want to make Jen the ‘woman scorned’ completely, maybe unintentionally destructive.

Ooh, or maybe Jen broke up with him because she's seeing this kind of "platonic" touching between CJ and the reader. 🤔😂

I mean… you might not be wrong-

Lollll they're literally one step shy of another "label." But interesting that they requested to room together in a coed dorm? What could possibly go "wrong?" 😂

Oh, yeah, SO many things that could go ‘wrong’. I also made it purposeful cause y’know, they’re childhood best friends, and CJ got to have that steamy daydreaming moment.

Gavin and Stacey -- like the UK show? I've never seen it but I've heard about it from watching British panel shows. ✌🏽

I actually didn’t think of that, but the name did sound familiar 😂 I’m based in the UK, so I probably heard it somewhere and it just stuck.

Hellllp they're so cuddly and adorable! They're like those "best friends" that are in such denial that they don't realize they're basically already in a long-term relationship. Literally the opposite of "friends with benefits." 😂

Haha, glad you caught that! They are two lost puppies in denial but they are unintentionally dating. Why did I also imagine Jensen acting this out lord help me-

And that gif is rightfully placed, girl, I can’t tell you how many times I rewrote both of those daydream sections. Even edited, because I needed to make them steamy as hell and also add parallels everywhere. There’s some with the start, with the daydreams as well.

I'm not seeing where she's a "good" person in this fic, but at very least, she's a toxic and messy person who doesn't handle her emotions well. 😪

I mean, yeah, but from their standpoint, they don’t know the real reasons behind it. So they think that from what they know of Jen, she’s sweet and not so self destructive.

But she goddamn is.

Again, gif is well placed. We all love it when friends who are practically already in a relationship acknowledge their feelings. One moment that I want to highlight:

His hand took mine as he sweetly mouthed at my neck, breaking off to press a kiss to my knuckle and then my palm, placing that hand over his heart in a silent thank you for letting him touch me like this. The gesture made me smile, and I tilted his head back up to capture his heavenly, sinful lips again after they made me feel like the only girl in the world.

I wanted to make this kiss moment special. I’ve mentioned multiple times in one chapter where CJ and reader both want to be each other’s. So CJ feels overwhelmed with happiness that he’s being allowed to do this.

I just love that. 🥹

That moment melted my heart too, and I just couldn’t help but tear up. This was a writing manifestation of how I want to be treated 😂 me and my deprived romantic life

Anyway, and one thing I’d like to finally note is CJ finally getting his make out against the kitchen counter *wink wink*

Thanks a lot, Zep!!

i like me better | cj braxton

Summary: Just two childhood best friends, going to ESU together after transferring from Boston Bay College. They’re prepped to have fun, lose sleep and complete essays. But there was a massive tiny problem. CJ’s struggling with a breakup, she’s struggling to help him and they’re both grappling with the realisation that they might be something more.

A/N - Lemme know if you want me to write more CJ! Based off ‘I Like Me Better’ by Lauv :), and this is my first reader story!

TW: Mentions of alcoholism, hurt/angst, breakup, mentions of depression, borderline panic attack(?), idiots in love, tooth-rotting fluff and cuddles, making out (lemme know if there’s anything else)

i like me better (when i'm with you)

Saturday 4th September, 2004 - 09:45 

I was gonna slap this man and ruin his perfect face.

“Hey.” CJ’s hand gripped my shoulder, gently rubbing it and staying so close to me that I could catch the warm, inviting scent of caramel and… mm, coffee. But no, I must stay strong. “C’mon, wake up.” I heard a small noise, as if he was setting something down, and his now free hand made its way into my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “Please?”

“No.” I grumbled, keeping my eyes firmly shut as I laid on my stomach, my head turned away from him as I determinedly tried to keep sleeping. But then again, you can’t force sleep. And as a college student, I know very well that sleep is something coveted. Extremely coveted. But then he started peeling the blanket off, his other hand rubbing my back, arms and over my shirt so I wouldn’t get cold. The touch soothed my tense muscles, and I resigned to the fact that CJ has powers. He could melt me with just one brush of his fingers.

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” His voice sounded playfully upset, as his hand continued to massage my hair, gently brushing some out of the way. “Uncle Bill told me that you didn’t beat him in a game of poker last night.” My only response was a huff, which told him everything. “Look, m’sorry, sweetheart. Don’t be mad.” I was gonna be mad. I came back from a walk because he said he was attending a college party to find him face down on the sofa, blabbering in slurred words about Jen, the stink of vodka, tequila and beer stinging my senses. It wasn’t pretty, neither were the hurling sounds I’d heard the next morning.

“You broke your sobriety.” I complained into the pillow, my voice muffled by it, but I wanted to turn back around. Hug him, kiss his hair and tell him it would all be ok. Stroke his cheek, kiss his nose and call him my ‘sweet boy’, because that’s what he is. Even if Jen broke him and in turn was the catalyst for him breaking his sobriety. But he… had to learn the hard way. Right? 

“And I’m sorry, but please… look at me.”

“Uh-uh. Learn your lesson.”

“Lesson learnt. C’mon, I brought you a caramel frappuccino. As a peace offering.” At the mention of coffee, I shot up, looking to see the takeaway cup on the bedside table. I grabbed it, holding it to my chest like a baby as I took a sip, humming in approval at the taste. I saw his sparkling green eyes, those pouty lips stretched in a small smile as I accepted his peace offering. “So, you took the bribe.”

“I’m not a cop. I’ll take as many bribes as I damn well please.” I smirked a little, taking another sip and pausing when I realised that even though patience was a virtue that I needed to learn, so was gratitude, that I needed to express.

Because, if he was appeasing me, he wasn’t as mad as I thought because of my silent treatment.

“Thank you.” My voice was a murmur when I said it, because I did feel guilty for giving him the silent treatment. I always felt guilty for being mad at those puppy eyes.

“No problem, sweetheart.” He brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear with a tilt of his head that made my bones warm up and shiver at the same time. His shaggy brown hair was combed neatly, and he wore his favourite sweater- the brown one with the buttons undone. It also looked amazing on him. Really good. “Can you forgive me?”

“You’re partially forgiven.” I muttered, taking another sip of the coffee, which felt rather like a shield. I was guilty because CJ didn’t deserve my criticism.

He was just… heartbroken.

And I wasn’t making things better, not by ridiculing him for having human emotion.  It felt like sharp rocks in my stomach- like I was feeling a pain that wasn’t even mine in the first place. Like they’d cut so deep I’d bleed through my repentance.

“I’ll take partially.” He reached over tentatively to squeeze my hand, my own feeling so small in his. “Because I don’t want you being that mad for too long. I hate your silent treatment.”

“I hate my silent treatment too, but…” I sighed, “I can’t, you know, see you like that. I know it’s selfish.” The moment I finished my sentence, I felt another bout of gentle pressure on my hand, coupled by the corner of his lips turning down.

“It’s not selfish.” CJ assured, his thumb rubbing soothingly over my knuckles. “You’re looking out for me, and that’s not selfish.”

I started to hyperventilate, short gasps coming from my mouth as I thought about how heartbreaking the scene of CJ, on the couch, crying out his heart was. His rosy cheeks shining with tears, green eyes going down the red colour spectrum and his shirt stained with the salty liquid. “What if Jen had gone about this differently? Had she not insulted you publicly? What if I’d spoken up, or helped you more, o-or-”

I was instantly drawn into his chest, his hand setting the frappe aside as his arms wrapped firmly around me. My cheek was resting against the soft fuzz and fluff of his sweater that felt like a blanket. Like he was protecting me for something I didn’t deserve protection for. I was hurting him, unnecessarily. 

“Shh.” His hand cupped my cheek, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb while the other went securely around my waist, pulling me into his lap and holding me there. “You’ve done all you can. Don’t beat yourself up over this, ok?”

“I could’ve done more-”

“Shh…” He rocked me in his arms ever so slightly, his nose buried in my hair as he inhaled the scent of my shampoo.

CJ felt like he had sharp rocks in his stomach. That weighed him down and pierced at him until he felt like he’d bleed. Jen was never a bad person. She had her flaws, as did everyone else, and she truly was good at heart. But when she dropped him with seldom an explanation, avoiding his every advance and not touching him with a ten foot pole, he wished he could hate her for it. But he couldn’t help but think it was something to do with him. Now here his best friend was, curled up on his lap and blaming herself for his problems.

He was being a major ass.

His arm tightened again, almost as if to envelop me in his comfort and protection. “It was never your responsibility to pull my drunk ass off the floor.” He gave me a kiss on my temple, his voice a low, deep murmur. “Never was, never is and never will be. Please cheer up.” He gave me a kiss on my cheek, humming a little. A smile started to tug at my lips, so he matched the warm expression and bent his head down again.

His pillowy lips pried the rain clouds in my head apart, sweet pecks on my cheeks paired with honeyed nothings in my ear. His kisses felt like stamps on my cheek, marking me as his without leaving anything but a rosy hue on my skin. To tell the truth, I was always his. Ever since I found out what the weird butterflies in my stomach meant. What the weird tingly feeling I had whenever he flashed that winning smile at me meant. Ever since I started seeing his adorable little pout when he was playfully mad and finding myself wanting to kiss him until I couldn’t breathe and neither could he.

Sunlight streamed through the dark clouds as he rubbed soothing circles onto my waist over my sweatshirt, the other holding my knee over my grey sweatpants as his hair tickled my temple from the angle where he’d bent his head to press his lips against my cheek, outlining any freckle he found until I was a sunny, happy, giggling, blushing thing in his arms. “You’re forgiven.”

“Eh, that’s it.” He chuckled deeply, giving me one last squeeze by his strong arms before cupping my cheeks and placing one last kiss on my hairline. “There she is; attagirl. Now, I was on the phone with Uncle Bill before you woke up. He wants you to stop letting him win otherwise he’ll stop betting money and replace it with dental floss.”

“Can’t have that.” I giggled, shaking my head. Uncle Bill was also like my own family at this point, and since I was a good hand at poker, we always played rounds on Friday nights that I always won and gained some cash from. But I wasn’t really in the mood to win yesterday. Not when the previous week, I’d found CJ drunk off his rocker on our couch. “I’ll go hard on him next time.”

“You better. Don’t want him getting a big head, do we?” His fingers played with mine, tracing each delicate one before lifting my hand to his lips and brushing them over every knuckle before he turned my hand over and let them tease the inside of my wrist. “Now, c’mon. We need to be productive.”

“Define productive.”

“Beating Toad on Mario Kart.”

“Yep, that’s productive.”

Monday 6th September, 2004 - 07:30

CJ groaned when he felt the light from the window burn his eyes, his hand reaching up to block it until his poor eyelids and pupils could adjust to the intense rays that blinded him. That’s when he saw a figure outlined by the light like an angel, silhouette blurry as he blinked rapidly and his head picked up. But the person standing there was no angel. To him, she was a goddess. His best friend.

“You ass.” He chuckled as he rolled out of bed, grabbing his sweatshirt as he stood up. “You take pride in seeing me looking like a hedgehog in the morning.” His voice got more low as he pulled his grey sweatshirt on, but then he walked over to me, cupping my cheeks and pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

“Morning, sweet boy.” I giggled, playfully rubbing where he’d kissed. That made him let out a fake incredulous gasp, swatting my arm.

“Hey! You just rubbed off the magic.” He took my chin gently, tilting it to kiss my forehead again. “There, all sorted. Now, don’t go rubbing it, ok?”

“Fine, fine, I won’t rub ‘the magic’ off.” I air-quoted the phrase with a sarcastic drawl, which earned an eyebrow raise and a teasing smirk from CJ as he then seized me by the waist, starting to tickle my sides. The sensation almost made my knees give way as I shrieked a little, a gasp escaping my mouth as I attempted to wriggled out of his grip. “Hey- CJ!” I was breathless in between laughs, his own chuckles deep in my ear as I squirmed. “C’mon, don’t-don’t do this to me, it isn’t fair-”

“It’s fair.” He smirked before using his grip to lift me up and started walking, planting my feet in the kitchen. I pouted at him, but it slowly turned into a smirk as I began tickling the back of his neck. He shied away instantly, his neck seizing up as he backed off with raised hands in surrender. “Hey! No fair!”

“It’s fair.” I smirked as I passed by, giving him a peck on the cheek before moving to make our coffee. Behind my back, CJ raised a tentative hand to his cheek, touching the spot which I kissed as he licked his lips, biting them as they stretched into a goofy grin. His cheeks flushed red as what three words threatened to spill from his lips, but even as the expression and thought remained like it was burned there, he couldn’t understand why he had the urge to smile whenever he saw his best friend. Why he wanted to pull her closer, brush his lips over hers and maybe even make out against the kitchen counter, her hand in his hair while his bunched up the soft material of her sweatshirt and felt her soft thighs through those baggy sweatpants. Leaving a trail of fire down her neck, no match, lighter and gasoline- just his lips. Hearing sounds that he knew would be sweet as honey. Holding her in the morning, being the last thing she saw before she fell asleep and the first thing her eyes met when she woke up.

He was still hung up on Jen. But here his best friend was, with her tendency to always wear sweatpants that flattered her paired with a rope braid that always had a few strands of hair loose that he was itching to tuck behind her ear. Not to mention that she always had a twinkle in her eye when she looked at him, paired with a pouty smile on her pretty pink lips that he just wanted to kiss until they were swollen. He wanted her to kiss his lips until they were swollen.

He wanted to be hers. At least, he always was, but he wanted to add a label to it.

Wait, he wanted to add a label to it?

“Here. Caffeine fix.” I passed him a mug of steaming hot coffee that snapped him out of his reverie while I sipped my own cup, both of ours exactly how we both liked it. Creamer and two teaspoons of sugar. “Should be enough for our first day at Empire State University.”

“Orientation and everything.” He chuckled, looking up at the ceiling as he sipped his coffee with a low moan of approval. “Tastes great, sweetheart. Anyway, I doubt we’d be separated. Not after we put in special requests to dorm together.”

The statement made me giggle, his pouty lips wavering my focus for a second as he gulped down a second sip of the sweet coffee. “Exactly. Who could possibly match our energy? It’s impossible.”

Monday 6th September, 2004 - 09:24

“M’already five minutes into this lecture and I’m getting bored.” CJ groaned, leaning his head on my shoulder and inhaling the scent of my body wash as the Psychology lecturer droned and on about the basics of psychology in a monotone voice that evidently suggests that he does not want to be here. And now I’m writing an English literature analysis essay in my brain, which is not helping. Everyone had already bothered to study up on psychology basics, so the class was full of chucking crumpled notes about to make friends, and there was even a couple called Gavin and Stacey with their lips locked in the back of the hall.

It was a mess.

“Tell me about it.” I sighed, taking a long sip from my water bottle as I leaned my head on CJ’s, his cologne dizzying me for a moment. My fingers began playing with his hair, winding the soft, floppy strands around my fingers loosely. He yawned into the crook of my neck, his eyelashes fluttering as he took deep breaths and tried to focus himself but failing miserably.

“Help.” He murmured, letting out a small puff of breath as I doodled in my notebook. “M’bored.”

In order to combat his boredom, I ripped a sheet of paper quietly out of a refill book I had in my bag and placed it on the table, drawing a 3x3 table. “Tic Tac Toe?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” We played a couple rounds of it, all of which ended up with CJ winning because he insisted he started first and always pulled out the puppy dog eyes if I so much as refused. Obviously, I couldn’t protest any longer otherwise I’d lean in to kiss that pout away. My hand on his cheek or running through his silky hair, leaning in with soft giggles to get addicted to those lips and soft smiles all over again. Seeing him on top of me, looking at me with that warmth in his eyes that I always saw him look at Jen with. Hearing his groans in my ear, alone in his bed as he whispered sweet nothings to me while his lips trailed a path of sin over my skin. Clothes hitting the floor in a dimly lit room. Being the first thing he saw when he woke up and the last thing he saw before he slept.

But that’s all an unreachable, lucid dream, right?

Friday 22nd October, 2004 - 17:12

CJ and I crept up the driveway of Uncle Bill’s house, hunched over even though there was nothing to hide from as we giggled like crazy. Our pinkies were intertwined, as we both registered how stupid-ass we looked, snickering like little gremlins as we reached the door, CJ’s hand lifting to rap on the door how he usually did, followed by him putting his spare key into the lock as we opened the door. Uncle Bill’s house looked homely, cozy even, but only because CJ and I made it so because the elderly man didn’t really have a penchant for decorating. We wiped out feet on the welcome mat, grins on our faces as we hung up our coats on the rack beside the door. “Uncle Bill?” CJ called out with a chuckle, and I set down my grocery bag to take off my shoes, CJ following suit.

“Don’t ignore us, c’mon.” I giggled, and then the old man grunted from the living room, responding to us.

“Don’t just lurk in there, you two. C’mere.” We shared a look as CJ and I walked into the living room, where CJ’s Uncle Bill was sat on the sofa, elbows deep in a soap opera. When he saw us, he stood up, shuffling over with a smile. “Hey, kiddo.” He grinned at CJ, who hugged him. “Nice to know you haven’t forgotten this old geezer.”

“Oh, never.” CJ responded casually as Bill clapped the former’s shoulder before he turned his attention to me.

“Ah.” He took a good look at me. “You haven’t gotten any taller. CJ still looks like a tree.”

“A handsome tree, I hope.” CJ smirked, then nudged me. “You do look like a forest fairy sometimes.”

“Shut up, I tried my hardest. Plus, 5’ 7” isn’t bad, you 6’ 1” yeti.” I chuckled as I hugged Bill, swaying a bit. I’d known Uncle Bill since I could talk, same as CJ, so we were practically family at this point. And even though he was a grouchy ‘old geezer’, I still loved the ‘old geezer’ as if he was my own uncle. “Good to see you, Uncle Bill.”

“You too, sweetheart.” He patted my back, then took a look at us both with a proud smile. “I remember when you two were small little munchkins. Bawling every other minute. Now look at you both, all grown up. In college, together. I swear, you’re joined at the goddarn hip.” He reached up to pat our cheeks, then frowned in confusion. “You sure you two ain’t datin’ yet?”

“No, Uncle Bill, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” CJ raised a warning hand paired with a smug smirk. “I’m way out of her league.”

I picked up a newspaper from the side table, rolling it up and slapping him in the head with it. “Shut it, I’m way out of your league.” Then I turned to Bill, holding up the bag of groceries that we’d picked up for him. “Shall we?” I walked off with the elderly man, setting the newspaper to the side.

CJ chuckled to himself as he watched me walk off, in his hoodie and my sweatpants that made me look like an angel but a walking temptation at the same time. “Yes, you are.” He muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck while biting his lip. To him, his best friend was unattainable. With those dimples, eyes and those sweet smiles.

The evening was spent with rounds of poker that I won every time, Uncle Bill complaining about something or the other in his house over glasses of juice, punch and water. CJ hadn’t had much practice at poker, so he was finding it hard to keep up with the skill of the likes of regular players such as Bill and I. That resulted in quite a bit of teasing and playful ruffles of hair, and me having to kiss CJ’s cheek to appease him and take that grumpy little pout off his face.

“C’mon, boy, buck up.” Bill gruffly ordered, dealing another round. “You just need practice.”

“Let me guess…” CJ deadpanned, “practice makes perfect, don’t be sad, because it’s not about winning and it’s about having fun.”

“Wrong. It is about winning, cause you win money. It’s all about the money.”

“Yeah, Cee.” I smirked, giggling as I counted the amount of twenty dollar bills that I’d earned so far. I was sure I’d empty Uncle Bill’s pocket soon. “It’s about the money.”

“You two are addicts.” CJ huffed, shaking his head with a laugh. “You’re as bad as each other.”

“Sore loser.” Uncle Bill snorted.

“Yeah, sore loser.” I snickered before taking my dealt hand.

Hours later, we were in the middle of a round of poker when we looked to Uncle Bill and found that he was fast asleep, starting to snore. I giggled, setting down my cards and gesturing to CJ. “Pack this up, I’ll get him to bed.” As I turned my back, moving to put a blanket over Uncle Bill, CJ’s phone lit up with a text.

A clearly drunken series of texts.

Jen: I miss you

Jen: Come back

Jen: Pleeassse, CJ

Jen: Ily so much

Jen: Cmonnn, give me another chance

Those texts made everything come crashing down again. All those suppressed emotions and focusing on anything but Jen and now she was texting him, drunk. Tears welled in his eyes as he struggled to keep them down, burying himself with the task of cleaning up the cards until he felt a hand on his hair, a gentle hand taking the pack of cards out of his hands and set it down.

Next thing he knew, he was in the spare bedroom upstairs, curled up with his head in his best friend’s lap while he cried his eyes out into her grey sweatpants, leaving water stains behind as he tasted salt.

I stroked his hair, fighting the urge to cry myself as I cradled him like I did back when he had his depression spell. I whispered words of encouragement and love to him, trying to make him feel the slightest bit better as those pretty green eyes steadily turn redder by the second.

I had to stop the cycle somehow, but I wasn’t sure how to.

Sunday 7th November 2004 - 15:48

CJ and I were writing our Psychology essays on my bed, discussing ideas to reach the 3000 word minimum requirement. The room was filled with our low rumbles of conversation, flipping of book pages and the scratching of pens on paper. But his eyes kept on flicking curiously to me, his lips pursed slightly as he noted how our time right now didn’t consist of giggles, jokes and playful pecks on the cheek paired with cuddling. It was somber, almost quiet, and he could sense that with my loving glances, there was a small weight to them that he couldn’t explain, but he knew I could.

“Hey.” He reached out, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face. His head tilted as he gazed into my eyes, finding only a sadness that he didn’t like to see. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, Cee.” I whispered, but he thumbed my bottom lip with a soft frown. His eyes looked so worried, it ached my heart and it ached his too, seeing me without my usual smile. My lips parted in a silent gasp, my breath hitching as I closed my eyes to steady myself before opening them and taking a good look at him.

I wanted to say what three words so badly.

But he was hurting.

“Looks far from nothing to me.” His thumb on my lip tried to push them up into a smile, but when one didn’t come, he pulled me into his arms. It was like we had a psychic link. Whenever one of us were upset, the other was. If one was guilty, the other would try and find any reason whatsoever to feel the same.

Right now?

I felt lost, just as lost as CJ.

I didn’t feel lost when I was curled up on his lap, my head in the crook of his neck while he rocked me gently. I didn’t feel lost in the slightest when he murmured affirmations into my ear along with little kisses. I didn’t feel lost when his fingers brushed my cheek and his lips wiped away the one tear on my cheek that dared to escape my eyes, his fingers soothing the following ones.

I knew that if he let me go, I’d feel just as lost as ever. Unsure how to help him and unsure how long we’d pass the hot potato in the form of negative emotions that manifested as per their own will back and forth like a pendulum. It was a cycle.

One of us got upset, the other cuddled with them until the sniffles went away. Then vice versa, and it would… never… stop. I just wanted it to stop.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered into my ear, kissing the spot beside it as he drew comforting circles on my back. “S’gonna be ok, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You can tell me what’s up when you’re ready, ‘k?”

“You’re hurting.” I whispered, gripping his grey Henley in a tight fist. He let out a long breath through his nose before nuzzling it in my hair. “It hurts when you hurt.”

“Sweet girl.” He whispered, sounding like he was physically pained to hear those words. “I may be hurting, but please don’t-don’t do that to yourself, ok? I’m almost over Jen, just hold out on me a bit longer, y’hear? I can’t see you like this. I just need that beautiful smile, ok?”

“Please be ok.” I whispered. “Soon. I’m so mad at Jen, but she-she’s not even a bad person, so I can’t fully hate her.”

“I feel the same way.” He kissed my hair. “But this is affecting you, so I’ll try my hardest to get better. I promise.”

“Don’t do this just for me.” I pleaded quietly. “Do it for yourself, too.”

“I’ll try.” He whispered, still rocking me. “Let’s set down these essays, and take a break. We can watch Johnny English together to cheer you up. I know I’ve been holdin’ out on watching it, but I can make an exception.”

I sniffed, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” He kissed my cheek, then swept me into a bridal carry, his strong arms cradling me to his chest as he walked over to the sofa, laying me down. “Just lay back and relax, sweetheart. I’ll get the popcorn.”

The rest of the night was spent with loud laughs, comforting kisses as he held me close under the blanket. I couldn’t help but look at his perfect side profile as he stared at the TV with a wide grin on his face as he chuckled at Rowan Atkinson’s shenanigans on the flashing screen. His face illuminated in the dark room (the blinds were drawn) looked so peaceful, his arm around my shoulder and a few strands of hair brushing over his forehead that I wanted to move with my fingertips.

Instead I snuggled into his chest, his arms instinctively cocooning me in his embrace. CJ closed his eyes, wanting to do all of this all over again but this time with us kissing each other’s lips and telling each other ‘I love you’.

I’m in love with you.

I’ve fallen for you.

I’m hopelessly addicted to you.

The words were right there, but he choked up at the last moment.

You’re my best friend.

You’re my rock.

My everything.

It was easy to say in his head, but not so much out loud.

You’re my universe, sweetheart. Ever since we could talk.

Sunday 19th December, 2004 - 18:26

We were celebrating Uncle Bill’s birthday, so, naturally, we were over at his house. Even better for Uncle Bill, Grams, or Evie, as Bill knew her, was coming over to visit. So I’d finished dressing up in a plaid dress, putting a belt over it and letting my hair loose for once. I ran a comb through it, and I could barely remember the last time I dressed up was my graduation. I put one last swipe of lip gloss on, then opened the door and descended down the stairs nervously. Uncle Bill and Grams had their backs to me, but CJ’s eyes lit on fire when he looked up from the lively conversation to see me standing there. He instantly stood up so fast he almost toppled over the armrest of the sofa, his jaw almost hitting the floor.

“You…” A grin twitched at his lips as he made his way over to me in a daze, taking my hand and twirled me, “look stunning. My god, sweetheart. But… personally?” His lips brushed my ear and his voice lowered to a murmur. “You look even better in sweatpants.”

“Oh, shush, you.” I snickered, and then we saw Uncle Bill and Grams’ eyes on both of us with smirks on their faces. The air turned awkward, but then CJ lifted my hand to his mouth to kiss my knuckle before interlocking our pinkies as they dropped.

“You look beautiful, darling.” Grams smiled affectionately, gesturing for us to come over and sit down.

“Thank you, Grams.” I grinned.

“Like a Barbie doll, sweetheart.” Bill added, but got swatted on the arm by Grams. “What? Y’all can compliment her but I can’t?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, honey, and you know it.” She laid a hand on Bill’s forearm. “How about I go with CJ to get your cake ready, hm?” She looked keenly towards CJ, who clapped his hands and rubbed them together, going with Grams, who shuffled into the kitchen with CJ. The cake was already laid out, which planted some confusion in the poor boy’s mind.

“Was this some masterful plot to get me to talk about something?” He asked with a raised eyebrow as Grams shut the door behind them.

“You got that right, young man.” Grams gave him a smile, then gestured for him to sit on the barstool in the kitchen. He obliged, sitting his apprehensive ass down before he had the mind to complain or object. “Now, I don’t want you to deny anything that I’m about to say, because frankly, CJ, I have seen enough to know.”

“Know-?” CJ chuckled nervously. “K-Know what, exactly?”

“You are madly in love with that stunning young lady in the next room.” The fact that it was said aloud caught CJ off guard, rendering him speechless. “I have no objection to this matter, even if my granddaughter and you were quite the couple, but that isn’t the point here. I understand from William that you and that girl have been friends since you could talk. And it is quite clear to me how closeted you are about your true feelings, when all she does is reciprocate them in her own special way, which is letting you shower your affection because it makes her feel special. In more specific words, you make her feel special.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You are a handsome boy, but you are also, as I’ve said before, someone of pure heart and good intention. I love my granddaughter, but no one is a better match for you… than your best friend.”

To say that CJ was flabbergasted was an understatement. He’d never considered that his best friend could reciprocate his feelings.

That never occurred to him once. But nah, she couldn’t. She’s too good for him.

Sunday 19th December, 2004 - 9:56

CJ walked into the spare bedroom where his best friend was staying, and found her in his favourite outfit of hers, sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard. Sweatpants. The lip gloss was still on, and still looked stunning.

He closed the door, his eyes flicking down to my lips as he walked over, desperate to kiss it off and taste it on his tongue, but he digresses. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Cee.” I smiled, patting the space beside me, which he flopped onto.

“I know I’ve probably said this a million times, but you look amazing.” He reached out, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. I blushed, my eyes flicking down to his lips before back up.

“I’m in sweatpants.”

“Exactly. Amazing.” His lips brushed my cheek, then he grinned softly and continued to press them over and over again, lips soft as silk, and I knew they’d taste as sweet as sugar. His hand cradled my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone as I giggled and blushed even harder. “So amazing.”

“You’re just saying that.” I chuckled, leaning into his hand as I looked down bashfully. My lips parted slightly, fighting off the urge to smile like a goof.

“No, I’m not.” He muttered, smiling against my cheek as his nose brushed it as well. He let out a deep sigh, nuzzling into my cheek. “God, I love you.” The words slipped out, and I looked to him just as he thumbed my bottom lip, his breath mingling more with mine by the second as his pretty eyelashes fluttered closed.

“What-?”

“Shh…” He murmured, his lips pressing against mine, sweet as ambrosia as the taste of coffee, vanilla sponge cake and chocolate flooded my tongue. His gentle touch on my cheek had me melting as my own mouth found the dignity to respond, my hand tangling in his hair as I breathed in… his cologne. Cinnamon. Vanilla scented body wash. I broke apart briefly, my lips barely grazing his as a soft gasp fell from my lips as I leaned back in, tilting my head as I met him halfway.

That sweet sound, god, that sound, it almost made CJ melt. His hand immediately hooked under my knee, pulling it across his legs and setting it down so I was straddling him. His hand gripped my waist gently, not missing a beat as he pressed me against him, feeling everything he could. The way my hand slid across his chest, over his Henley, as his tongue brushed my bottom lip, a low sound of pleasure swallowed by my mouth falling from his. My fingers rubbed his soft hair, gently tugging until I got a moan from him that made me feel like I was on fire. He only added gasoline to it, coaxing more noises out of me by leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses down my neck as his hand squeezed my upper thigh as the other rubbed my hip in circles.

His hand on my thigh kneaded down to my knee then back up, gently gripping and rolling my hips down to meet his, which made us both jolt and meet in the middle again, honeyed sounds leaving both of our mouths, the hot air stealing mine while CJ’s vibrated against my neck. My head tipped back to allow him better access to me, fully trusting him. I could never not, and this right here felt like a dream. I always was his, but now, I was… his. Really his.

His hand took mine as he sweetly mouthed at my neck, breaking off to press a kiss to my knuckle and then my palm, placing that hand over his heart in a silent thank you for letting him touch me like this. The gesture made me smile, and I tilted his head back up to capture his heavenly, sinful lips again after they made me feel like the only girl in the world. He reached for my hip again, pulling me flush against him, but his elbow accidentally knocked his phone to the floor with a loud clatter that had both of us cringing and looking at the door for any signs of someone entering.

“You kids alright in there?” We heard Uncle Bill call out, followed my Grams’ voice after.

“Leave them alone, William, they can take care of themselves. Besides, I’m sure they’re… busy.”

I turned back to CJ, who gave me an apologetic grin, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed my nose and then a bold freckle on my left cheek. “Sorry.” He mouthed, but I giggled instead and pecked his lips for another taste.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, brushing his hair back from his face with a smile. “For what it’s worth… I’m in love with you, too.”

The statement had him grinning like an idiot, cupping my cheeks and pressing his forehead against mine. “That’s worth everything, sweetheart.”

Monday 27th December, 2004 - 8:46

“God, Cee…”

The cool slab of the kitchen counter in our apartment pressed against my back, a contrast to the warm hand pushing up my sweatshirt. My hand was buried in CJ’s hair as his lips moved against mine like they were on fire and I was the only source of quenching it, like he was in the desert and I was his only source of pure water. His palm pressed against the now exposed skin of my waist, a low chuckle escaping from his lips.

I giggled in response, humming as his lips connected hungrily with mine once again, the taste of our morning coffee flooding each other’s mouths as he hummed back, his other hand reaching up to take the band tying her rope braid together and letting it loose, his fingers working to untangle the strands and mess it up just right. He let out another low moan that I couldn’t help but whimper in response to, especially as his hand squeezed my thigh playfully, lifting it to hook it over his hip before his lips regretfully left mine and instead descended to tease my neck in a way that had me tilting my head for him and pressing myself back into the counter to avoid getting hyperthermia; he was making me feel that much like the friggin’ sun.

CJ let out another low chuckle before lavishing more attention on my neck in order to elicit more sounds from my mouth. “You know,” He murmured between kisses, “I’ve always imagined doing this here.”

“Making out?” I breathlessly replied, also laughing a bit before it dissolved into a whine, those pillowy lips working their magic. As always.

“Oh, yeah.” He teased playfully, his hand in my hair tilting my head just a bit more, fingers massaging my scalp to soothe me as he planted a few more open-mouthed kisses on my neck, his elbow keeping my leg on his hip while his hand moved to play delicately with the drawstring of my sweatpants, tugging on it to make my breath hitch. “But now? Now, I’ve got a bit more in mind.”

TAGLIST:

@hobby27 @leigh70

Make sure to like, comment, or reblog with feedback! Sorry if this came late 😅

[uomo-accattivante]

This is a great article about how The Card Counter managed to finish principal photography after getting shut down mid-March due to COVID-19.

Also, it includes this interesting description from Paul Schrader about Oscar Isaac’s character, William Tell -- “So now I have a character and he’s in his room, he’s alone. And he has a mask on. And the mask he wears is a professional poker player. And the problem that runs alongside him is that he is a former torturer for the U.S. government. So it’s a mix of the World Series of Poker and Abu Ghraib.”

Having somehow weathered his way from enfant terrible to wizened survivor, Paul Schrader is a filmmaker who is simply not finished yet. Every time it might seem his career is on the wane, he resets, revitalizes and comes back again.

Just a few years after his 2014 film “Dying of the Light” starring Nicolas Cage was taken away from him by financiers — leading Schrader to disavow the movie — he received his first Oscar nomination (for original screenplay) after directing “First Reformed,” which was released in 2018 and starred Ethan Hawke as a troubled small-town minister.

Schrader’s work is marked by emotional intensity, intellectual vitality and an aesthete’s appreciation of style. His filmography is full of unusual corners that are still being discovered. The 1979 film “Old Boyfriends,” directed by Joan Tewkesbury with a screenplay by Schrader and his brother Leonard, was recently rereleased on home video. As was the 1990 film “The Comfort of Strangers,” directed by Schrader from a screenplay by Harold Pinter.

He’s been directing films from his own scripts since 1978’s “Blue Collar” starring Richard Pryor, Harvey Keitel and Yaphet Kotto. He went on to write and direct such films as “Hardcore,” “American Gigolo,” “Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters,” “Light Sleeper” and “Affliction.” His celebrated work as a screenwriter for director Martin Scorsese includes “Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull,” “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “Bringing Out the Dead.”

Never one to shy from controversy onscreen or off, he directed Lindsay Lohan in the 2013 Hollywood-set thriller “The Canyons,” written by Bret Easton Ellis.

In March, Schrader was about three-quarters through the shoot for his next film, “The Card Counter,” in Mississippi — with a cast that includes Oscar Isaac, Tiffany Haddish, Tye Sheridan and Willem Dafoe — when the production was shut down due to the growing pandemic. In July, Schrader was able to shoot for an additional five days to complete production.

During the break in shooting, “The Card Counter” was picked up for distribution by Focus Features.

Schrader recently got on the phone to talk about the unusual circumstances of the film’s production and completion. A film critic before he became a filmmaker, Schrader not only had startling insights into his work, but also thoughts about what filmmaking and exhibition might be like in a post-COVID world.

Before we start talking about the production on the movie, could you just describe the story? What is “The Card Counter” about?

Well, I don’t want to get too deeply involved in the plot, but what I will say is over the years I’ve kind of developed my own little genre of films. And they usually involve a man alone in a room, wearing a mask, and the mask is his occupation. So it could be a taxi driver, a drug dealer, a gigolo, a reverend, whatever. And I take that character and run it alongside a larger problem, personal or social. It could be debilitating loneliness like in “Taxi Driver.” It could be a midlife crisis like in “Light Sleeper.” It could be an environmental crisis like in “First Reformed.”

So now I have a character and he’s in his room, he’s alone. And he has a mask on. And the mask he wears is a professional poker player. And the problem that runs alongside him is that he is a former torturer for the U.S. government. So it’s a mix of the World Series of Poker and Abu Ghraib.

How did you come to put those two things together?

I’m always looking for that. I’m looking for deep-seated problems, either personal or societal, and some kind of oddball metaphor. The more you get closer, you run these two wires next to each other, the more sparks you see flying across. And it’s in the sparks that the viewer comes alive. If the wires ever touch, there’s nothing left for the viewer to do. But if you keep these two wires really close to each other, the viewer will start to spark from one wire to the other. And that’s the greatest thing you can give a viewer or a reader, an opportunity to be part of the creation.

Let’s talk about the production and everything you’ve been through. Take me back to March. What was it like for you when the production had to shut down?

I have learned in my dotage how to make a quality film on a low budget. So the film I used to make in 40 days I now make in 20. And so “First Reformed” was 20. I had shot in Biloxi 15 days. Now I knew coronavirus was going to be rising, because when I heard that Macau shut down, I said, you know, it’s just a matter of time. Macau is the wealthiest gambling center in the world and I’m here in the gambling center of the Gulf. If Macau shuts down, it’ll reach Vegas, it’ll reach here. And we were doing a scene, a poker tournament with 500 extras. And I remember I said to the A.D., “We can’t put 500 people in a room without one of them being positive.” And sure enough, one of them was. Two days later, we not only closed down, all of the Gulf was closed down.

Fortunately, when I went back, I had shot my big crowd scenes. And also I had shot my sex scenes, which I would have hated to try to do under these restrictions. So all I had left when I went back was a number of scenes in the prisons, and four more scenes in the casinos, some driving scenes. So I was in pretty good shape. But I really wanted to finish the film.

And Oscar Isaac, he was on his way to Hungary to do reshoots for “Dune.” And he wanted to put off this reshoot till after “Dune” — to do it in September because he has a big beard and he didn’t want to shave off his beard. I said to him, “Oscar, there’s a window open right now in Mississippi.” I said, “If we don’t jump into this window while it’s open, this will become one of those famous films that never got finished, and we’ve got to exploit this moment.”

So I talked him off the ledge and he agreed to do it. And we were able to put everybody back together and do our week of prep and five days of shooting. It was very strange, and in a way it was kind of fun, in a summer camp sort of way. But I would hate, hate to make a whole film this way. It was an adventure for five days, it’s a nightmare for five weeks.

In the break from March to July, were you on high alert that you could come back at any moment? Were you editing the footage you already had?

Here’s what happened. I was editing. My editor is in New Jersey and my assistant editor is in Tennessee, so we’re all editing virtually. And I had four major dialogue scenes between my principal characters that I had not shot. Then I was able to screen virtually the film for a number of people I respect, like Scorsese, who is the executive producer, like [filmmaker and programmer] Kent Jones and other people. And what I asked them all is, “I have four more scenes to shoot. I can rewrite them. What am I missing? What do I need to add? How should I write these four scenes?”

And I started getting feedback about what they felt was missing. So I was able to rewrite these scenes and make these relationships much better. And not all productions get to do that. It’s a very expensive reshoot, but it was built-in that three-quarters of the way through, I have an opportunity to rewrite one-quarter of the meaningful character scenes. So I did, I rewrote it. And I realized what was missing. And I wouldn’t have realized that if I was shooting at the top. I would have only realized that in post. And I would have walked around the room kicking myself in the ass, saying, “I wish I had the opportunity to reshoot some scenes.”

How was getting everything back together?

As soon as Mississippi allowed us to come back, we came back. And of course nobody’s working, so everybody’s eager to come back. They are hyper-conscientious because they know they are only being allowed to work by the grace of God. And so the masks and the PPE and the hands and the distancing, you don’t need to tell any of the people this. They’re so happy to be at work. They have no problem with any of that.

You can only have one person within six feet of your actor at a time. That person could be hair, it could be makeup, it could be props, it can be the director, it could be another actor. And you kind of queue up. And a thing that I realized, we had a warehouse. So we did rehearsals for every scene in this warehouse. And I told the actors that when we get to the location, to the casino, the prop people will be in there, the lighting people will be there and then you will walk there with your mask on, and you will take the positions that you took in rehearsal. Then I will roll camera and you will take your masks off and we’ll play the scenes. So that’s how we did it.

Given everything that it takes to get to shooting, once you were back on set with the actors, did you still feel like they could give you the performances that you needed? Was it difficult to get to a place of artistic creation given all the other concerns that everyone has?

Because they had done the rehearsals, they had gone through the permutations of their performances before. So the only thing different for them was that they were in a real space rather than a fake space. As I explained to them, there would be no time for exploration on set. All the exploration you are going to do, we’re going to do here in the warehouse. I don’t want to hear one peep from you about changing anything once we get into this hothouse environment. So however many hours we have to spend in the warehouse, let’s spend it.

How close to finished are you with the movie now, considering you had a lot of it already cut together?

Basically, I’m finished, down to an hour and 49 minutes, which is where I think it should be. Obviously, I have to do the score, there’s the post-prod and the special effects, but the thing is that there’s no pressure to finish the film anymore at this time. I was talking to Focus, and I could give them the film in a month. They don’t want the film in a month because they don’t know what to do with it in a month. They said, you just take whatever time you need, which is the opposite of the way studios usually talk. I also have final cut, so it doesn’t really matter. What I deliver, I deliver.

When you made “The Canyons” you talked a lot about your feelings regarding the theatrical experience, VOD and streaming and contemporary filmmaking. What impact do you think the COVID shutdowns will have on movie theaters?

There’s a certain kind of film like “The Canyons,” which should be made for VOD, which is a kind of exploitation film. And there’s another kind of film like “First Reformed” that has to be mounted by film festivals and art-house cinemas, so that it has an identity prior to VOD. So if you’re on VOD and you see an Ethan Hawke film about a minister, you’re not going to say, “Oh, let’s watch that.” No, what you’re going to say is, “Oh, I heard about that film. I heard it was good.” Well, how did they hear it was good? They heard that from film festival reportage and they heard from their friends who have seen it at theaters. So that sets up VOD.

The opposite case is a film like “First Cow,” a film that was crushed by not having a theatrical window. And everybody is, “Should I watch ‘First Cow’?” They have no context. So what’s important for a film like “The Card Counter” is we have to give it context. We have to go to the festivals and we have to go to the art cinemas to tell people what we have in our hands. Then we can go to VOD, where the real money is. So “First Reformed” went to Telluride, Toronto, Venice and New York. That set the table. I would love to set the table for this one. I can go to all those festivals. That’s not a problem for me anymore. The problem is: Are festivals going to happen?

Do you think theaters are going to come back?

Not in the way they did. There are only four reasons for theaters to exist anymore. And this situation has accelerated these trends. Like symphonies and operas and live theater, concerts, they need a reason to exist. One reason is family cinema, because parents love to see their kids interacting with other kids. Animation films will always have an audience. Another is extraordinary spectacle. IMAX, virtual, whatever they come up with. Something you can’t see at home. The third is date movies for high schoolers, which is horror and rom-coms. Or rather, dirty rom-coms.

And then the fourth is club cinema. Which used to be called art cinema. But with these new institutions that are a combination of social institutions and cinematic institutions. So the Metrograph in New York has one restaurants and two bars. There’s more square footage devoted to eating and drinking than there is to watching movies. And yet it’s always full because people want to be in that environment. So then alcohol’s become the new popcorn. And those club cinemas, which were pioneered by Alamo, they will continue to exist because people want to be part of the club, people want to buy a membership. They want to eat and hang out, and they want to know which films have been approved by the club. Which is something you cannot get from VOD.

When “First Reformed” was coming out, you spoke about how you had made it thinking it could be your last film. And yet you seem so reenergized over the last few years. Do you feel that way? Have you been able to hit the reset button in some way?

Oddly, yes. I’m in the middle of a new script, which is about a horticulturalist. And what has happened in my case, following the disastrous situation I went through with “Dying of the Light,” I said, I would no longer work unless I had final cut. And once I got final cut, I was free. When I began, you didn’t really need final cut. When I was working in the studio system, all those other films, you were working with people who knew movies, who liked movies. Who you can talk to, you could disagree with — things would get changed, sometimes they’d get better, sometimes for worse in your mind, but you were working with people who liked movies, who watched movies. In the last 15 years, I’m dealing mainly with financiers, who not only don’t watch movies, don’t even particularly like them. And how can you have discussions with these people? And that’s what final cut freed me from, because I realized I couldn’t talk to these people. I wasn’t talking to [studio executives like] Barry Diller and Thom Mount and Ned Tanen anymore. I was talking to Joe Schmo from some hedge fund and I couldn’t talk to Joe Schmo. The only way I could talk to him was to have final cut.

I’m certainly excited to see what becomes of “The Card Counter.”

The new one is quite good. Focus told me not to hump it too much because that’s their job down the line. But you can take my word for it, it’s quite good.

###

[reinersdiscordkitten]

Reiner x Reader Chapter 3

Hey! I'm extremely sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out  I was having major writers block i rewrote this chapter 3 separate times and i was not happy with any of first few drafts but i finally came up with a good chapter for chapter three and i hope you all like it 

Tw: there really isn’t any

Chapter 3. More cadet training...

Your life in the Training Corps were very interesting, You were a little weak in the beginning of it like with combat training you were either getting knocked down or not being able to knock anyone down, or when you were training with odm gear you always seemed to get a malfunction or never seemed to stay in the air long enough which non of that helped with the fact that shadis would be on your case twenty-four seven, and honestly that made you really stressed so one night after having dinner in the mess haul you tried going to everyone you knew that was good at everything. You first went to Mikasa but she basically shunned you because well, she was too busy worrying about eren. So you decided to try Jean and He just laughed in your face and said “honestly Y/n I’m surprised that you’ve made it this long even Destined to kill titans maniac has gotten better since the first day” which of course you responded to him with a slap in the face. So after your first two failed attempts of asking for help you decided to ask your friend Reiner, So you went searching for him but you were also searching for his friend bertolt because you knew anywhere reiner was bertoldt was with him. After about twenty minutes of searching you found him sitting outside with bertholdt, so you walked up to him and lightly tapped him on his shoulder “uhm hey reiner!” you say shyly, He lightly jumped and turned around slightly with a shook expression but then turned into a warm expression once he realized  it was you “Oh, hey Y/n you need something?” he asked with a warm smile,which honestly gave you butterflies but you asked awkwardly “I was wondering if you could uhm help me with odm and combat training? Because i know you and uhm Bertoldt are really good with uhm well everything” he crossed his arms and looked down giving a little laugh “everything huh?” he responded looking at you with a smirk, which again gave you butterflies so you replied with “well uhm yeah! But i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” you place a hand behind your head smiling awkwardly, He giggled lightly as he stood up giving a look at bert, bert nodded. Reiner looked back at you “Come with me.” He said as he lightly grabs your wrist pulling you in his direction, that causes you to blush hard but you nod and follow his direction.

After 10 minutes of walking it was incredibly silent it was almost awkward but you didn’t know how to break the silence so you were trying to think of things to say and you were about to say something until reiner spoke up. “You know what’s funny is that just about a week ago Eren came to me about the same thing.” You furrow your brow in shock “really? I thought Eren was excelling? I mean he had the confidence at least” you mumbled that last bit under your breath gaining a laugh from Reiner “you really have must have not been paying attention have you?” He asks looking back at you, You blush in embarrassment “w..Well i mean! With all this training Happening And well Uh” You fumble out your words not exactly sure what to say causing reiner to laugh more “Relax y/n,I get it it’s been hard this past couple of weeks for everyone.” he reassures you smiling, You don’t know why but him reassuring you gave you butterflies. You then start thinking about how he’s always reassuring you, Like for crying out loud he was even reassuring you when you to first met, You wondered why that was. Meanwhile while you were inside your own head once again reiner abruptly stopped and you bump into to him, You were going to apologize but you get immediately distracted at your surroundings which was upright beautiful there was a Lake that lead into a river surrounded by pine, The sky was as clear as day, and then there was Reiner. He was looking up at the moon with a glare in his eyes that almost made them glow, the Moonlight hit his face in an angle where it made him honestly really pretty. You ended up just staring at him with a blush crawling across your face, You were falling for him. He then turned to you lightly intertwining his hands with yours staring back at you with a tint of red in his face. He then lightly spoke “Y/n. I know you were probably wondering why I brought you here and why i’m always reassuring you or just basically coming to your rescue all the time” he then took in a deep breath and continued “And It’s because I can’t help myself. Everytime i see you or around you i get this feeling like i have to protect you at all cost, i get this feeling of wanting you in my arms all the time, that i want to be near you all the time and honestly i get jealous when  others are around and” he paused for a moment and let out a deep sigh “what i’m trying to say I’m falling for you y/n, and i’m falling hard.” he kept going saying stuff like “i understand if you don’t feel the same i mean who could li” you interrupted him by pressing your lips against his He jumped at first but then melted into it wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you close while you cupped an hand on his cheek as you both kissed. You stayed in this position for awhile then you lightly pulled away and looked into his golden eyes “Reiner, i’ve liked you ever since we’ve met. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to feel the same.” you mumble against his lips caressing his cheek lightly “does this mean you’ll have me?” he asked causing you to giggle and respond with “of course you big dummy” he then pulled you into a deep long kiss and the night ended with two lovers holding each other in the night.

[niseamstories]

Tl;dr: The heavily revised physical edition Dreams of the Dying, my novel set in the Enderal universe, is now available for pre-order via Amazon via my website. Special early bird prices are $32.99 for the hardcover with an illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook. It’s a prequel featuring Jespar, but, for reasons outlined below, opens up a new canon. Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

Hey guys,

This is Nicolas, the writer of Enderal speaking. As some of you may know, I’ve been working on an Enderal novel, Dreams of the Dying. First released as a web version, I spent the past year completely rewriting and improving the book, adding and removing chapters, revising characters arcs, and improving plotting, worldbuilding, and style. In total, I rewrote the web edition three times from cover to cover. Well, it’s finally time: Dreams of the Dying is now available for pre-order on Amazon!

The English version of Dreams of the Dying will release on October 20. A German (and perhaps Russian) translation will follow as soon as possible.

Please note that this is a rendering and that the actual hardcover looks slightly different, with same format but a matte dust jacket and a matte, laminated case. A big shoutout to Dominik Derow for the cover artwork, Johanna Krünes for her cover design, and Joyce, for her tips, patience, and help with this product shot.

Jaaros Oonai, magnate, visionary, and master of coin, doesn’t muse about whether the glass is half empty or half full—only about ways to fill it.

Jespar Dal’Varek, drifter, mercenary, and master of avoidance, doesn’t muse at all. He’d rather just drink the damn wine.

Two lives that could not be more different intertwine when a strange contract leads Jespar to the tropical island empire of Kilay, the wealthiest nation of the Civilized World.

The mission turns out to be as bizarre as it is lucrative: Jaaros Oonai, the country’s merchant king, knows something that could stop a catastrophe, but he has fallen into an inexplicable coma. Together with an ex-priestess and a psychic, Jespar must enter Oonai’s dreams and find this secret.

What should have been a fresh start rapidly turns into a nightmare, as Jespar slides into a spiral of disturbing dreams, political intrigue, and clashing ideals, where not only the fate of Kilay but his own sanity are at stake. It’s not long before he learns that only a spider’s thread divides the sleeping and the awoken.

And that there’s no greater enemy than one’s own mind.

The hardcover edition comes with an appendix that includes additional lore, such as an illustrated bestiary, a guide to Kilayan fashion, illustrations of the (re-envisioned) seven Light-Born, a short guide to the Makehu language, and much more.

Even though Dreams could be considered a prequel, I didn’t write this as an expansion or fan service but rather as my debut, and a book that stands on its own. This edition differs vastly from the web version, and, though it is up to you to judge, I’m a million times happier with it.

If you’re on the fence and would like to wait for reviews—here’s hoping I get enough—I fully understand. However, if you would buy the novel, you’d do me a great favor if you considered pre-ordering. One of the biggest challenges as an indie author is exposure; since Amazon registers all pre-orders as Day 1 sales, a lot of Day 1 sales would give me a chance to climb in the novel’s category and boost visibility for readers outside the Enderal community. To make this worth it to you, the book will sell for a special early bird price of $32.99 for the hardcover with the illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook, as opposed to $37, $16, and $5. Just follow the link to my website and click pre-order—it will take you right to your local Amazon marketplace.

Unfortunately, Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

I’m aware the hardcover is in the upper price range, but it uses the best materials, and the illustrated appendix cost a lot to produce. It’s also the only edition where I make a more solid revenue, so see it as a way to support my work, if you wish.

If you’re a patron and pledged $110 or more since October 2018, I’ll be in touch a few weeks before launch to send out your signed hardcover copy right away. Thanks again for your support, Dreams became a far pricier project than I anticipated, and your patronage helped me immensely in covering the cost.

Lastly, a word of warning before you pre-order: For the paperback edition, I took the drastic step to separate Dreams and all future Enderal novels from the game canon. There are two good reasons for this. First, the Vyn games were created over 17 years, the earliest one being Myar Aranath in 2003. Fascinating as this idea may be, it also means that the lore of the Vyn universe was created by a myriad of different authors (the latest and current one being me when I joined the team in 2011). As a result of this, the lore of Vyn has always felt a little disjointed and inconsistent; I initially took these differences as challenges to conquer, but the longer I wrote, the more I realized how much these inconsistencies bothered me and how hard they made it to write the story and the universe I envisioned. Let me assure you that this decision wasn’t easy and does not reflect a lack of appreciation for the work of the previous workers. I stayed faithful to the lore whenever possible.

The second reason is a trickier one: Jespar. This character has been in my mind for nine years now, and I love him with all my heart. Still, the more I immersed myself in the story of Dreams, the more I grew aware of how incredibly constraining it was to write a story where the end is already written; because Jespar is alive in 8234 a. St. (1234 P.L. in new canon lore), you all know he will never be in real danger. Again, there is undoubtedly an intriguing challenge to writing such a “safe” story, but—similar to the lore, I increasingly felt like I was writing with fetters on. 

So, what does this mean? Aside from the fact that anything can now happen, the consequences aren’t that drastic. Enderal is still Enderal, and Jespar is still Jespar, albeit thirteen years younger and at another point in his life. I changed and expanded details about his backstory, but his essential conflicts are still the same, only refined. Major changes include modifications to the Light-Born (their aspects, how they came to be, when and how they disappeared, and the societal consequences of that disappearance), the time frame of the different eras, and a complete rework of the magic system. Minor changes include dates, the spelling of names and locations (Kilay, not Kilé), and others details I tweaked for consistency and worldbuilding coherence.

And that’s about it. I’m aware and grateful for the love many of you have for this world, and believe me, I did my best to honor it; I just realized I cannot tell a good story with one arm tied behind my back. If it’s any solace, I can promise you that new book canon is ironclad – I’m pathologically obsessive about consistency and cohesive worldbuilding, but without a solid framework, that’s a recipe for frustration and disaster. See it as a different but nearby eventuality: details and fates may differ, but the soul of the world remains the same.

If all that didn’t scare you off, pre-order away! I also set up a Goodreads page for the book, so you can add it to your To-Be-Reads or even recommend it to your friends – this is an indie project by all means, so I’m grateful for every bit of support. Please keep in mind that the Goodreads is for the revised edition, not the web edition, so if you’re planning to leave a low rating, I’d be grateful if you waited to read the actual book in October 20. It’s a different experience.

Last but not least, a big thank you to everyone who supported me on Patreon, created fanart for Enderal, or just let me know they enjoyed this game and were looking forward to the novel. This novel was meant to be a 6-month stint but, boy, did it turn into something more. It sounds sentimental, but this last year has been rough personally, and your support and encouragement kept me going.

I hope this story will live up to your expectations.

Best,

Nicolas

Dreams of the Dying (Revised Edition) on Goodreads

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