#i wrote this twice because i lost the first draft

[deanstead]

With Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N deals with the wave of anxiety that hits her after Spencer's conference

Word Count: 900+

Tags/Warnings: established relationship, anxiety, insecurities

A/N: Had to get this out of my head so I wrote this on a whim, then it sat in my drafts because I was worried it sucked (still am) but @halsteadlover once again threatened to kick my ass (because that's how we communicate love) so I'm posting this. Please do not shoot me if it sucks lol.

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

You stood off to the side of the spacious conference hall, quietly watching as people approached him after his spotlight presentation.

You’d have been able to spot him anywhere he was standing even if the place was twice as crowded as it was now.

There seemed to be something that had drawn you to him almost automatically since the first time you met, and he seemed to emit a glow that only you could see.

Spencer raised his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours effortlessly, and he smiled softly at you before his attention was drawn back to the person next to him.

You couldn’t help the small smile that flit across your face, accompanied by the familiar flutter in your gut that only Spencer managed to make you feel.

At the same time, a darker swirl of insecurity seemed to rise up to meet the innocent butterfly flitting around in your stomach.

It wasn’t new. This feeling of being inadequate next to Spencer, the feeling that he was made for greater things and that maybe somehow you were holding him back. It was totally irrational but the thought still greeted you once in a while. Sometimes it reared its head when he made a joke that you didn’t totally get or when he started rambling and you lost him halfway. But even if that wasn’t it, personally watching him stand up in front of an entire conference hall and deliver facts and research you didn’t fully grasp would definitely do it.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, lost in your thoughts while trying to keep the dark swirl of anxiety as controlled as possible.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect to take so long.”

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you smiled back at him, although the look in his eyes told you that he knew something was up.

Spencer didn’t ask, merely smiling as he let you lead the way out of the hall and to the car.

It was about halfway through the car ride back that you realized you’d been a little too quiet. But that realization was too late.

“You okay?” Spencer asked quietly.

You looked up into his hazel eyes and tried a smile.

Spencer didn’t say anything, his eyes flicking back to the road before he made a deviation in his route and you raised your eyebrows.

“Caffeine replenish.” He said quietly, as if he could read your mind.

You watched Spencer as he stood at the counter, letting the intrusive thought of ‘maybe coming with him wasn’t such a great idea’ creep into your head.

When Spencer had asked if you wanted to come, all you’d thought about had been how happy you were that he wanted you there, and about how you’d take any extra time you could spend with Spencer before work whisked him away again.

You wondered if you would still have come if you’d known how you would be feeling now. Yet, something told you that you would have. Nothing would have deterred you from time with Spencer.

That thought was merely reinforced when Spencer slid into the seat opposite you, armed with your favorite coffee order.

After a short silence, Spencer broke it. "You okay?"

You nodded, then you shrugged realizing how futile it was to try to hide your emotions from your profiler boyfriend who was sitting opposite you.

You looked back down at your coffee, and sighed.

“You were amazing today, Spence. Really amazing.”

Spencer smiled back at you, the shy smile that seemed to be reserved just for you and you felt your heart flutter once again.

“You are amazing. And I just… well, I’m not.”

Spencer blinked back at you.

“Actually, recent studies have shown that couples are indeed more likely to be similar than different, but it also shows that other than similarities, complementary skills and features are just as important…” He paused mid-sentence. “I’m rambling again, right?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“What I’m saying is, you are amazing.” Spencer concluded.

Now, it was your turn to blink back at him.

“You have no idea. I can explain a lot of things, Y/N. But I can’t explain this. I can’t explain why we fit together like the last two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t seem likely but are actually the only two pieces that are supposed to be together. We just are.”

You ran your finger across the rim of your mug and Spencer reached out for your hand, taking it and playing gently with your fingers, almost like a habit.

“We are meant to be, crazy as that sounds coming from me.” Spencer laughed as he said it.

You let out a small chuckle.

“So don’t…” Spencer said, his voice dropping lower just slightly as his voice trailed off.

You glanced up now, unable to miss the crack of slight insecurity in his voice and you realized he was just as scared as you were.

Spencer smiled. "See? Similarity."

Sliding your hand out of his grasp momentarily, you made your way to sit by him in the small corner booth, sitting as close as you could before you slipped your hand back into his.

“I could never.” You whispered, in response to the sentence Spencer hadn't been able to bring himself to finish.

Spencer didn’t answer, just leaned toward you, taking your face gently in his hands as he pressed his lips against yours, almost like he was sealing a deal. You smiled against his touch, pulling closer to him, before you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck.

The dark swirl was still there in the pit of your stomach, although it was slightly muted, but somehow but it didn’t matter because Spencer was here as well.

And as long as you had Spencer, the dark swirl had nothing on you.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[thatchickwithtoomanyhobbies]

The Boys

***My weird head-canons about the boys. Don’t judge me, I know I’m weird. 🤪***

Aiello

-Most definitely a cat person.

-Played baseball since he was a kid and considered going pro but then decided against it.

-Wants to get married but the girls think he’s not husband material despite being pretty good looking.

-A great artist but thinks its not a masculine trait (whatever that means), so he doesn’t do it often or really tell anyone about it.

-A giant momma’s boy. He cried when saying goodbye to her the day he got shipped out and wrote her letters at least once a week. Probably cried at least once while he was gone because he missed her.

-Missed his mom’s cooking to the point that he’d dream about it then wake up starving.

-The youngest of four kids and the only boy. His sisters tortured him with dress up and dolls when he was a kid.

-Not sure if he wants kids of his own but is willing to be the cool uncle.

-Once caught the stove on fire by accident and pretended he found it like that. His parents still have no idea.

-Got hit in the back of the head with an aluminum baseball bat once, cracked his head open, and had to get stitches. His hair still doesn’t grow in that spot but he manages to cover it up.

Stiles

-Definitely somewhere on the autism spectrum. Special interests: philosophy, ancient Greece, Edgar Allen Poe, and of course photography.

-Mom was a single mom majority of his childhood so he is decidedly a momma’s boy. Also very much a feminist.

-He’s got a raging sweet tooth. If it has sugar, he most likely loves it. Especially if its cake.

-Doesn’t really drink because, “I like to be in charge of my mental faculties at all times.”

-So very, very awkward with girls. He tries talking to one, says something he doesn’t realize is creepy and/or weird and scares her off. He still hasn’t had a girlfriend at the age of 22.

-His little sister tries to help him but she thinks he’s a lost cause and is doomed to a life of singleness.

-Once he realized he was most likely getting drafted into WW2 he started researching military tactics because “you can never be too prepared”

-Loved ‘The Hobbit’ as a kid. He’s owned several copies of it over the years because he reads it at least twice a month and they just keep falling apart.

-He was thrilled when Tolkien published ‘Lord of the Rings’ and read it in a weekend.

-Still has his childhood teddy bear and keeps it on his bookshelf. Sometimes he pulls it down to sit in the armchair with him while he reads.

Zussman

-He’d definitely live off of hotdogs and mac n cheese if you let him.

- He was an only child until he was 12 when his parents unexpectedly had his baby sister. He wasn’t excited at first but doted on her constantly once she was born.

-According to her, he’s her best friend. He’d never admit to it at the risk of being called a sissy, but he feels the same way.

-She bawled in his arms the day he left and said she wanted to go with him. He somehow held it together, but after he got on the train he started crying too.

-Whenever he wanted to give up and die while he was a POW he’d think of how she’d feel if he wasn’t there to braid her hair anymore or take her on their “Leah and Robbie dates” and that gave him the strength he needed to push on just one more day.

-Yes he learned how to braid her hair because she wanted him to do it one day and he was upset that he didn’t know how.

-Once he got home, his family refused to let him out of their sights.

-Plays pranks on his family. Sometimes Leah helps, but most of the time its just him booby trapping something and their parents setting them off.

- ‘Robert Cohen Zussman’ said in a very annoyed and somewhat angry tone is very often heard in that house. Along with “What on earth possessed you to do that?” and “What is wrong with you?”

-Although once they realize how close they were to losing him they don’t really mind it as much.

Daniels

-Loves barbecue.

-Enlisted to fight rather than get drafted because either way he was gonna have to go fight and it may as well be on his own terms.

-Is practically married to his grill in the summer. Hazel jokes that he loves it more than her and that he should leave her for it.

-Terrified of clowns. No idea why. They just freak him out.

-Was once dive-bombed and chased by an angry raccoon while Aiello, Stiles, and Zussman were visiting. Zuss had to shoo it away with the broom. After he finished laughing that is.

[tryslora]

learning sentence level editing

It’s no secret that I hate editing.

I’ve told this story before: When I was in high school, I had an English teacher who told us on our first day of sophomore honors English that she would not give an A for a first draft. She had a rigorous outlining/drafting process that she was determined to teach us. Me, I had undiagnosed ADHD and was a dyed-in-the-wool pantser. So I resolved on that first day that by the end of my time with her, I would get an A on a first draft.

My final essay of junior year AP English (yes, same teacher two years in a row), I wrote about Victorian morals and literature. I read it aloud. I got an A. I only ever wrote one draft.

What that taught me was how to write very technically clean drafts, something that has stayed with me for almost four decades now. Which is great!

What it did not teach me was how to be patient enough to properly edit. And I have never really learned. In fact, that is one of my ADHD sticking points (yes, I know, that’s obvious from my reaction to her statement in the story above). I often feel that a large part of the reason I have never made it as a writer—have never broken into tradpub—is because I do not have the patience to not only write, but then create an outline from the draft, then rewrite, then do it all over again and fiddle with each sentence until it’s perfect.

I’m learning, but I’ll admit, I’m still not there, and I’m not sure I ever will be where novels are concerned. 

But right this moment, I’m feeling very accomplished and proud of myself. I had a short story that every time I worked on it, it grew. Every time I cut it, it felt like it lost its heart and like the taste of the words stopped feeling like mine. My voice disappeared.

I had finally worked out a version of it that was just under 7500 words long, and I thought it was decent. It got no traction, and I was frustrated. I put it up for critique on SFFOWW (a critique group site) while I was active there a year and a half ago. It was chosen for an Editor’s Choice review, and the first half of it got some great comments. Which I promptly had to ignore because I was dealing with other editing problems.

I returned to it recently, because I saw a call I wanted to send it to. The problem was, the call was for stories under 6k, and I wasn’t sure I could cut this story again and still retain its punch. But hey. The biggest feedback I got was about how I handled my descriptions and dialog, and the amount of repetition that slipped into my words. So I absorbed that, and I dug into the story, and I started ripping it apart.

I didn’t edit it, exactly, nor did I completely rewrite it. I printed it. I read it twice. Then I placed it on the desk and went a few paragraphs at a time and started with a blank file and filled it in. Some pieces went in verbatim. Most of it changed. Huge chunks disappeared, and a few new things appeared. Some of it got rearranged. The wordiness disappeared.

Here’s an example…

Before:

"You get one hour," Lana says softly. "One hour with him, and then you're leaving him behind. You're taking your fate and you're setting him free."

After:

"One hour," Lana says. "Then take your fate with you and set him free."

The new version of the story came in under 6k. I did it, and the best part is, I don’t hate it. In fact, this was sentence level revision of a style I had never done before. The closest I’ve come to it is editing flash fiction to be under very tiny wordcounts (or drabbles of exactly 100 words, which gods, those take me longer than writing a short fic!).

I’m not sure I could’ve done this without the editing I did for Into the Split over the last many months. I had to dig into that in ways I have never edited a novel before, and it prepared me to dig even more deeply into this short story.

I’m learning. I guess you can teach old dogs some new tricks.

[buckets-and-trees]

Hi and happy weekend! I was wondering if you would be willing to open your creative process a little. You are publishing a lot of incredible stories at an amazingly fast pace, and I am curious about how you are able to keep both the quality and the quantity at this level?

Would you be willing to share what a typical writing week looks for you, and if you tend to finish writing any longfics before you start publishing them? How/how much do you typically edit; do you have a workflow of several steps including outlining, a first draft, and edit rounds, or are you more "go with the flow" type writer?

Anyway, you're an incredibly talented writer and amazing!

Stella, it's been a hot five minutes since you sent me this ask, but I'm finally here to pounce on it now! The past few weeks have been on and off with my brain energy, and I've been working to keep to my twice-weekly posting schedule with my self-imposed Countdown to Chris-mas and keeping weekly updates for Red, White & True, and I know those aren't mandatory things, but... even a posting schedule actually goes into part of the method to my madness.

THANK YOU for the compliments! I do know I'm writing a lot this year - mostly since summer - and it's absolutely not always that way. Plus there are people who I feel like write way more than me/more quickly, and I just have to remind myself that that's them and I'm me, and even my own muse has come and gone. From 2005-2008, I wrote A LOT of fanfic, then from 2008-2012 I wrote a little bit of fic here and there. In 2013, I started working on an original story concept more diligently than I had before.

Then I wrote two fics between 2014-2016, and then nothing until 2021. I dabbled just a little bit in 21, and then in 2022 I realized I had really lost almost all my hobbies, so I went on a journey to reclaim hobbies in my life. That summer I decided to start writing just an hour each evening - and that it was okay if sometimes writing was "writing" (rereading what I'd been working on, researching elements for my ideas, adding to an outline, writing down bits of dialogue or storylines that I didn't have a purpose for yet but that I liked the idea of). That got the wheels going.

I don't adhere to strict every night writing anymore, but I do write most nights. I now find it a way to really unwind while also indulging in the energy you can get from creating something. I also write a lot on the weekends. I have very little social life right now. It's half something I've chosen, half friends moving/getting married/having kids/some differences in political beliefs and our lives just drifting.

Long fics... The only chaptered fic I wrote a lot of in advance was Chosen, and that was because I'd written the story up through the content of chapter 5 and say how high up I was in the word count and hadn't even gotten to the main action yet, so... I decided to break it up into chapters and start posting. Devour and Warm Shadows I knew would be series, but I didn't write chapters in advance, only had an outline, and those both took a year to finally complete. Most of my series started off with only one story or drabble, and then I got an idea to go back to with a couple or AU.

The inspo? It can come from anywhere. Songs, watching a show or movie and liking that genre, experiencing something in my own life that I think should go into a fic... Sometimes asks have inspired story ideas. I also really enjoy participating in challenges! Some of my friends and mutuals around here host writing events and those prompts can be motivating and/or inspiring. Sometimes a bit of riffing with @vonalyn, @stargazingfangirl18, @biteofcherry, @witchywithwhiskey, @navybrat817, @vesearlee...

And then my actual writing? Not super organized. Some people use software or apps specifically for writing, and I'm just mildly ghetto and use Word, a private Discord server, and Apple's Notes app. Word is for actual writing. On my private Discord server, I've got channels for each thing I'm working on, and that's typically where I dump inspo (photos, links, etc), and sometimes I'll write actual story bits there if I'm typing on my phone (because I don't love Word or Google Docs typing on my phone). Apple Notes is where I outline because I can bring it up across devices from my phone to my laptop to my work desktop, which makes it easy to just dump an idea into the outline so I don't lose it and then can go back to whatever I'm doing. Sometimes my outlines have quick records of dialogue that I work out in my head.

OH MY GOSH, THIS GOT/IS GETTING SO LONG, I'M SO SORRY!

Last is just working on a schedule now. In summer 2023, I relized that I had signed up for three challenges AND was part of a community with monthly writing events AND had a few friends hosting writing events, and I realized that if I wanted to have any chance of getting done all the stuff I wanted to do, I needed to map it out - especially due dates and where I could double or triple up on common themes/ideas. It totally revolutionized how productive I was that summer. I'd never been that prolific, and I didn't hit EVERY goal or deadline, but I hit so much more than I would have simply because I made a plan. I like lists, I liked the challenge of trying to make the deadlines, and because I liked the ideas that I had dreamed up to try and make it all happen, it was a huge amount of fun.

That died off in the fall, and more in the winter. Spring this year I realized I really wasn't writing as much (and I did move/was busy February/March), so going back into summer, I thought about that again. I didn't make the elaborate spreadsheet list like I had in summer 23, but I had Hot Bucky Summer to get me back into that groove, and then I decided to do my own Countdown to Chris-mas thing since I felt like I'd done SO MUCH for Hot Bucky Summer and wanted to pay attention to the CEvans characters. The spreadsheet scheduling specifically came out again because I wanted to try and balance out the characters and new fics versus sequels in the schedule of posting.

Having the list now has been helpful in keeping my writing going because instead of trying to think about what I want to write, I just look at what I thought I wanted to write, and then go to the notes I may or may not have, and then type away at the story. I give myself liberal permission to switch things up - Viking Steve wasn't on the list for Chris-mas when I made it in September, I got the idea/itch for him on a Thursday night, thought about him Friday and Saturday, started workig on him Saturday/Sunday and then I think finished him late Monday night? And so he bumped Tattoo Ari and Curtis back a week and one of my other Steve ides off the 12 weeks entirely.

Lastly, you asked about editing. I like the spelling and grammar help in Word. I do tend to do a lot of re-reading when I'm writing, because I'm typically writing a chunk of story each day, so I have to go back and review where I left off from. I've worked with a beta/editor or sometimes just asked for someone to read something to check that it's on track only a handful of times in this fandom era (in my 2005-08 time, I had three beta readers who ended up some of my best online friends, and they whipped me into writing shape). Part of it is that I want this to be my hobby. I don't want to take too much of it too seriously. But some stories I either have some doubts/know I need feedback OR feel like it's so important to me that I want another set of eyes on it to make sure it's living up to its full potential.

tl;dr I am half planned, half vibes. I have a schedule right now because I want to sty on target in somehow trying to write all the ideas in my head. Ideas can come from anywhere for me. I'm enjoying the ride right now, but I don't expect it to last indefinitely.

And, genuinely, I decided to just brain dump my chaos because hopefully anyone else writing or thinking about writing sees that there's NO ONE WAY to write, even for one author.

OMG SORRY AGAIN THIS GOT SO LONG - probably could use an editor scenario here, but ASKS ARE FOR FUNZIES!

THANK YOU AGAIN, STELLA, FOR ASKING/SORRY FOR THE ESSAY YOU DIDN'T ANTICIPATE RECEIVING IN RESPONSE!!!!

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Round 2

A fox passing through the woods on business of his own vs Tinfang Warble

A fox passing through the woods on business of his own:

A fox who found Frodo, Sam and Pippin asleep under a tree and was puzzled by this.

Yeah sure why NOT switch PoV to a (arguably) non-sentient creature for like a paragraph with no bearing on the actual plot besides the comment that it never realized that the plot was happening??

It shows up for one page for no reason.  It's great.

Listen, that fox is absolutely a borbo. Confused? Funny? Has enough to be memorable but little enough to write a shitload of fanfiction about? Someone I have actually written about? Twice? (they aren't on ao3 though) clear boorbo

Look, people have observed before, correctly, that one of the things that sets The Lord of the Rings apart is that Tolkien will tell us things about the well-being of minor characters, like that the hobbits’ ponies that they lost in Bree were okay and went to live with Tom Bombadil. Tolkien is the kind of writer who will switch the POV to a fox who happens to pass by the hobbits on the first night of their journey to Rivendell, because the story isn’t just about the main characters, nor is it just about the endurance of realms like Rohan and Gondor. It’s about every living thing in Middle-earth, and for Frodo it’s especially about the Shire, the home of simplicity and good food and community and gardens and foxes. That’s what he takes up the Ring to save, and the fact that he takes it up with that motivation, not personal greatness or heroism, is what enables him to get as far as Mount Doom. Gandalf lays this idea out to Denethor when Denethor claims the fate of Gondor as a goal above all else: “For my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come.” The Quest of the Ring is not simply about Men and Elves and Hobbits; it is about ponies, and the trees of Fangorn, and tiny sun-star flowers in the grass, and yes, a fox on business of his own who never finds out anything more about the three hobbits he once saw sleeping under a tree, but lives and thrives because of what they did.

Tinfang Warble:

A half-fay from early drafts of the legendarium noted to be one of the greatest musicians of the Elves.

how are you going to vote against a guy whose honest to god name is tinfang warble

He’s named in the Lay of Leithian (HoME 3) as “Tinfang Gelion who still the moon / enchants on summer nights of June”. He’s mentioned alongside Daeron and Maglor as the three greatest Elvish bards, but unlike Daeron and Maglor (Maglor is best known for laments, the Leithian describes Daeron’s music as ‘music for breaking up the heart’, and both disappear tragically), Tinfang seems like the kind of musician you’d invite to parties. Also, ‘enchants the moon’ recalls Frodo’s extended cat-and-the-fiddle song at Bree, so maybe when Bilbo wrote that he was inspired by some existing elvish tale about a party where Tinfang really did call down Tilion and get him sloshed?

Round 2 masterpost

[esmealux]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @mulderscully ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

My profile says 56, but considering 32 of those are one-shots that have been gathered in Feels Like Home, I feel like the real answer is 24.

What's your total ao3 word count? 457K - but again, 32 of my works count twice, some of them three times (those that are both in LWTD and FLH), so the actual number is less. Feels Like Home is 223K words though, so more than that 💀

What fandoms do you write for?

Just Lucifer (but I have been toying with the idea of writing something for RWRB, if inspiration should spark at some point)

Top five fics by kudos:

Living with the Devil (isn't always Hell on Earth)

Feels Like Home

Mummy's Workplace: The Guided Tour

Take Me With You

Spouses Without Benefits

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! The nice ones, at least. I don't respond to Chloe or Eve hate 😇

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, I don't know, maybe Going Through Hell? I think it ends on a hopeful note though. I generally end angst on a hopeful note. Or write plain fluff. I do have a drabble in my drafts that is very angsty and does not end with hope though (Sox can confirm that).

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

I don't feel like I've written a fic with an ending yet 💀 I mean, there was Living with the Devil but it technically isn't finished because it continues in Feels Like Home. But Feels Like Home will definitely end happily.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not really, no. I felt rather unpopular when I introduced Eve in Feels Like Home though. And people aren't shy of hating on Eve and Chloe as characters, meanwhile Lucifer is always just a "poor baby" or a "silly man." I've had people comment that they like me and Sox' version of Chloe in Feels Like Home more than they like her on the show, which I guess is supposed to be a compliment? But I don't think I want that kind of compliment from people who think Chloe is a bitch on the show tbh...

Do you write smut?

Yes. Very much so.

Craziest crossover:

I've never written a cross-over.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not in this fandom, no. At least not as far as I know.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I have, actually. Someone translated Rejected at the Pearly Gates to Russian, but I lost the link ☹️

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Hahaha yeah. I have (:

Like 90% of what I've written since I met Sox has been co-written.

All time favorite ship?

Deckerstar, my one and only.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've got a Copenhagen AU sketched out that I reeaaallyyy want to write, but I have to finish Feels Like Home before I fully throw myself into that project. Also, I'm not sure many people but me would want to read it lol

What are your writing strengths?

Hmm, I think I'm good at writing dialogue? And understanding the psychology of the characters and their relationships.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Having English as my foreign language 🙃 No, but seriously Not Knowing Words is the most frustrating part of writing for me. And not just not knowing the words, but also not knowing how to string them together.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Depends on the language. Naturally, I could write as much Danish dialogue in as I'd like, but very, very few would understand it. I could do German too, with a bit of help from a dictionary. And I've watched enough Norwegian and Swedish TV to be able to write dialogue in those as well. I have written Lucifer dirty-talking in French, but I barely wrote any of that myself; a kind soul translated it for me. Generally, I think it's fun to incorporate other languages!

First fandom you wrote in?

Twilight. When I was 10 😅

Favorite fic you've written?

Feels Like Home, my beloved.

tagging @my-crazy-awesome-sox, @superlc529, @moonatoms, @mightbeawriter, @wendeckerstart and anyone else who wants to do it!

[oh-stars]

20 questions for fic writers

@lady-lostmind thanks for the tag 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

44, but 7 pieces are art or collabs I did art for! 

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,464,862

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only Stranger Things, but I still have Marvel WIPs and a few Spider-Man stories I want to write but haven’t had the time for. 

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Man That I Could Be

No One is Perfect, Not Even a Superhero

The Harrington Brood

you carved the space for my sadness to be seen for once (hold on to me)

Double Feature Disaster

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

Sometimes! I get really overwhelmed and can’t respond. I made a point to respond to all of the comments on Brood and it was a lot, so I’ve made a conscious decision not to. I also have a really hard time not spoiling things or teasing something too hard, so it's best for me not to respond. But I read each one at least twice and I like to take a beat to read them again when I’m blocked. They make my day :) 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Our Future (and really its the end for the whole The 'Til the End of the Line series) 

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

Either The Man That I Could Be or The Harrington Brood I think. 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Normally, no. My latest fic has gotten the most negativity out of everything I’ve written, but even then it’s not necessarily hate either. I delete the especially negative ones, but even those I think could be interpreted differently depending on tone.

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

Have I written smut? Yes. Do I like writing smut? No. I try not to, honestly. I do fade to black scenes or reference it, but I feel like all my smut is clunky and meh so I try to avoid it when possible. The few in The Man That I Could Be felt necessary and even then I didn’t fully explore those storylines the way I wanted to because I’m not great with smut. 

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

Nope! 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a few times! 

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

Yes, I love co-writing fics! It’s a great way to collaborate and push yourself. @sparkstarthetrashcan and I have a few fics we co-wrote for the @spiderversebigbang way back when and it was such a delight! 

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Stucky, I think they’re timeless. Steddie is getting pretty close to that, though. 

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

In Case You Don’t Live Forever, it's the only WIP I have that’s fully drafted out and plotted that I actively want to come back to. I just lost the headspace of the characters so I haven’t had a chance to dive back in. 

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I can capture characters really well, especially when they’re my own. I think Brood really showed that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Smut for one, and maybe action scenes. 

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

I think its tricky. Younger me has definitely dabbled, especially with Marvel fics, but I wouldn’t do it now. 

19. First fandom you wrote for?

One Direction (and I think I have scrubbed all of them off my wattpad thank youuu) 

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? There’s something special about all my fics, I think. But right now, I would say its a tie between you carved the space for my sadness to be seen for once (hold on to me) and All it Takes is Faith, Trust, and a Dream (with The Man That I Could Be as an honorable mention). Each of these served a purpose and fulfilled something different, but hold is probably the fic I’ve always wanted to write and my Disney fic is just something I look back on fondly.

If anyone wants to do this, I invite you to! Otherwise, I'm tagging the following with absolutely zero pressure to do this: @sparkstar-trash @medusapelagia @englishpaperpieced @skjachukson @cranberrymoons @graham-cracker-guillotine @slavicviking

[disco-tea]

20 questions for fic writers

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

23, but I have more/older stories on other sites

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

237,183

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, mainly btvs and I have an unfinished Arcane fic dying in my drafts

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hiraeth (TF)

where the shadow ends (BTVS)

Brother Let Me Be Your Shelter (TUA)

the broken gates of kingdom come (BTVS)

skin like the sky at dusk (LOKI)

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

I used to respond to nearly every single comment but rip I have been letting it slip lately 😭

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably I’ll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams). It’s a Christmas story about Five Hargreeves stuck in the apocalypse

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly probably The Art of Dying believe it or not 😂

8. Do you get hate on any fics?

I know for a fact I have gotten hate on fics but I straight up don’t remember it because I delete hate and then forget about it/block it out lmao

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

Nope. The closest I’ve gotten was a non explicit “pan to the fireplace” sort of scene

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

Nope

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. Though I have written stories and then seen somebody else post a fic in the same fandom that was eerily similar to a scene I wrote.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! I wrote this Jason Todd fic when I was a teenager called Just Another Robin and it’s been translated twice!

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

I have not. I’ve thought about it, but I’m probably too much of a weirdo to successfully collaborate with

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

It changes depending on what I’m fixating on tbh 😭

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

There’s like….nobody on this site who knows what I’m talking about but um. I got this fic called Hiraeth a lot of people really like. And I really do want to finish but it’s been so long and I’ve lost the muse/motivation for it. I’m really holding out that one of these days I’ll get a supernatural rush of inspiration and crank out like one final chapter for it

16. What are your writing strengths?

People say I do a good job at writing emotions

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Honestly probably that I’m too attached to my style and too sensitive about certain critiques. Which is why I’ll probably never want to write professionally because for me it’s more of an artistic expression

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

I think it’s good as long as it’s limited and you make sure it’s accurate and the reader knows what is going on anyway. My approach was that it should always be explained clearly later on or be an inconsequential fun little Easter egg for the reader to look up later

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh my gosh. My first fic was Supernatural 🫣

20. Favorite fic you've written?

where the shadow ends I think is my magnum opus at this point in my life. It’s novel length. It’s very emotional and important to me and really had a lot of real life feelings poured into it. It was so strangely woven into my life at the time I wrote it. It’s cathartic. It’s real. It’s a piece of my soul put on paper tbh. And that banner…oh my gosh. It was perfect and I’ll cherish it probably for the rest of my life

A runner up would be this multimedia fic I wrote during the pandemic and it was a fic told through a combo of text messages, pictures, videos, and chapter writing. I’m still v proud of it even though it’s very hard to share anywhere because of the format

[circle-bircle]

purging a bunch of stuff from my drive... gosh there are still a lot of things i want to write but it's hard to tell what's there when some of my file names are "gh384t90g8h" or "2" as i look through the drive i will put in this readmore any cool ideas i come across (mostly ff some fe and gbf and will sort them by fandom if ur into it)

please know i am deleting all of these drafts as i go along so if you want me to post snippets of what i have tell me in like 3 days before they are permanently deleted

fic titled "virgin in the dynamo" where i make vigorous reference to henry adams in my ff2 emperor redemption fic... well ok then!

doc called "BACK ON MY BULLSHIT" is an isekai for ff2. i've written a few of those but i haven't liked how any of them have turned out. idea for another day

more emperor fics; i have some where y/n gets fired as a servant, some reverse isekai drafts, and i have about a good long chunk of drafting for another vampire au where (spoiler alert) the emperor is not a nice guy and murders a bunch of people in the first chapter. the drafts are still there but i just don't know where to take the fic in the last stretch.

another emperor fic but this time it's an arranged marriage au (y/n is a noble of altair and i take the book canon and shake it vigorously)

edward chris von muir reverse isekai - i remember writing this. some really bad irl stuff happened and edward was the character i wrote a fuckton of to cheer me up. i'd still like to write it properly. in another fic i wrote an arranged marriage au and i still think i could write it and it'd be fun

doc titled "k"; rewrite of an old fic with zidane & kuja with the in veno veritas vibes... i'd like to post it but it's not done so it won't get posted

i write a 210 fic in firion's pov where tidus gets lost and firion comes to help him. hehe!

more tidus ideas; one of them was where y/n was a nurse taking care of tidus, another idea that i still might write where y/n is a total stalker of tidus and makes him love them... i still want to write that.

seymour fic with another isekai... circle be creative sometimes smh!

some gorefic of ravus nox fleuret... i really don't talk about ffxv but ravus is one of my favs i think he's so cool

"2" is a fe15 gray high school au. it's goofy i guess

more kurth ideas; i wrote a dreamsharing fic with him as well as a timeloop? i could have SWORN i published the timeloop fic but i don't think i did. i got 4k words into the draft. whatever, down the trash it goes!

doc titled "UNKIE JANNIE" where janaff takes care of a wounded shinon...

i've written a janaff/reader and a janaff/reader/ulki but not an ulki/reader. none of the ideas i have have been any good though and i still feel like they're not cute enough.

"the ranch fic" where shinon fucks a bottle of ranch. nsfw but an ex-friend did it out of curiosity and then he told me not to tell anyone but then he aired my dirty laundry so i air his dirty laundry back.

more in lewd news for shinon/janaff i tried to write a motivation chapter 2 but i never could decide on what shinon was going to do. i had a couple ideas, like shinon and janaff meeting up and fucking or continuing their parasocial relationship. in my latest drafts of it shinon was going to doxx janaff and say the most egregious sort of stuff before going back to his NEET ways (now without a purpose because janaff would be disinterested) but i couldn't make it as sexy as the first chapter so i just didn't finish it

nordion vampireverse multichap fic titled "diarmuid chomps" where it's not actually about diarmuid at all and febail gets really sexy and saves y/n from the evil vampires... i wrote that fic twice but neither are any good. idea for another time

speaking about nordion vamps, doc titled "sex sex sex sex sex sex" where the vamps get down and dirty with y/n. OTL i want to post it but it's incompleted as FUCK so it won't see the light of day ever

kempf mermaid au i would have posted for mermay if i knew how to write it. but every draft i did just wasn't right and i think fe is too technologically historic(?) for what i want to happen so i might write it with some other fandom instead

found my resume! been lookin 4 that

a kyd wykkyd fic... i had a moment

did i ever post a grimnir fic about hanahaki? i've written it a couple times but i don't think i liked any one of the drafts i wrote. an idea for another day!

there's also a lobelia fic where the captain goes to try and find him a hobby that isn't death related. music didn't work and at the end of the draft djeeta is trying word searches and crossword puzzles. i guess miscellaneous stuff, i wrote more lobelia fluff that wasn't published soo

i feel like i kept up deleting stuff so there is not much else. but that's all!!!!

[squarebracket-trickster]

Happy STS! Since you're on the second draft of ur WIP, how was the progress of the first draft? What are some things you learned during it? What is something you would do differently for your next first draft?

It's so rare to see a writeblr going through revisions and i find your commentary very inspiring. One day i too will be telling myself to leave the sentence be for another draft LOLLL

Oooh I love this question so goddamn much!!! (well, ig it's sort of two? three? questions.) I had so much fun answering this<3333 It was an excellent chance at reflection.

How was the progress of the first draft?

(lol I did not intend for my answer to be this long but it just kept going. But I like the idea of being very transparent about the journey because I hear a lot of nice, summed up "one day I sat down and wrote a novel, the next month I had a manuscript and started querying" stories and I think that can be really invalidating for people for whom the journey isn't that smooth if that is the only narrative you hear.)

I think I came up with the story idea some time in 2019. It was one of those, "princess runs away from an arranged marriage but [redacted due to spoilers]" concepts but at the time I was worldbuilding for other things so I put it aside for later.

About a year later, when I had not made much progress on my other WIPs (due to not having enough worldbuilding ideas to carry a fantasy or sci-fi story and banging my head against a wall trying to think up something I was happy with), I decided, ah what the hell, I'll try this instead.

I picked it because it was a simple concept--an idea fit for a standalone novel on the shorter end, with a fairly small setting and requiring little worldbuilding. It seemed like it would be good practice before I seriously tackled my more ambitious WIPs.

It still took a while to actually get writing. I tried three or four times to make an outline--one was more than 8000 words--and ended up scrapping each of them because when I got to actually writing the scenes I had outlined I found them dry and soulless. I was just going through events that needed to happen but there was no emotion, no humour, no themes, nothing. I tried to write the first chapter once or twice but I started the story too early in the timeline and lost the momentum to keep going. Finally, I wrote a scene somewhere in the middle (the one where Sorin figures out Adris is a girl) and it was the first I was actually happy with. I had fun writing it and then reading it again, and it finally felt like there was some "life" behind the plot I had been failing to outline. I rewrote that scene in both first and third person, decided I liked 1st better, and tried to keep adding to it. Then I had about 3600 words. I wrote another scene near the end (when Isadred and Firnen meet; though I changed this later) and it gave me some direction to work towards.

Then I did not touch the project again for several months.

One day in November of 2021 (NaNoWriMo month but I hadn't heard of it yet) I decided to just go for it and put a bunch of time aside to write like crazy. I started from chapter one and had two rules, 1. Start chapter one as late into the story as possible, and 2. keep it going--don't edit (not even spelling unless it is absolutely critical for me to make sense of later), if I get stuck just jump ahead to the next scene I can write, and if I don't know what happens next just ramble about everything that can't happen until I figure out a situation where that does not apply.

It worked. Really well. The next things I knew (about three weeks in) I had roughly 48 000 words. Some days I was hitting 13-14 000 words per day. Then I took a break because uni and came back to it in April 2022. Same rules, same deal. Suddenly I had 112 572 words.

I got stuck on the ending. I wrote a few scenes but didn't like them. So I figured I would just call it a finished manuscript, put it aside for a while, and come back to it when the time was right.

About two months ago I thought up part of a better ending while in the shower and a few weeks ago, just before I started the second draft I figured out the rest. So I knew it was time and I went back to it.

What are some things you learned during it?

I had a lot of fun. I laughed a lot at the banter and dramatic irony, I highlighted my favourite lines to look back on later, and I left funny comments for myself in the margins. The weird part was that I was not expecting it to be fun at all. I see so much writing content about how hard writing is and how much writers hate it, especially first drafts, and I have done my share of banging my head against a wall (especially in my other WIPs) but, for me at least, it is one thing to get stuck on a plot point, but if I am finding every single new sentence to be a struggle to get down it is probably because my story has not come to life yet. I am writing too much from a place of "hit each plot point in my outline" and not enough from a place of "you know what would be fun/gut-wrenching/shocking/funny/clever/insightful?".

Believe it or not, the middle section was the most fun to write.

I have also come to believe ardently in these commonly touted morsels of advice:

if your story is losing momentum after only a few chapters you either don't know where you are going with it or you have started too far before the inciting incident.

Name your first draft draft zero, garbage draft, word vomit (or in my case, "idk what the FUCK this it looks pretty cool tho"), and just expect utter garbage.

Don't look back, just keep going. You know that thing in improv where they do the "yes, and..." exercise? Do that.

If you are stuck on what happens next, skip that scene and go to the next. There is a chance you may not even need the scene you were stuck on. Long time skips in the same chapter are allowed.

If you don't know what to write just sit down and start rambling. As long as you know what you are trying to write towards, eventually you'll end up there and you can cut the bloat later.

Know your climatic moment before you start--not your ending, but the big final showdown the story is building to. You don't have to know how it resolves (I didn't figure that out until like six weeks ago) but know who is in your final battle and where it takes place.

Don't research. Don't worldbuild. If you need a piece of information you don't have, write [insert type of medieval ship here] and move on.

What is something you would do differently for your next first draft?

I am honestly not sure on this one... I do wish I was a more skilled writer prose-wise because my first drafts would need a lot less editing later on if descriptive, poetic prose came as naturally to me as dialogue and emotional one-liners. But all I can really do for that is keep practicing.

The only other thing I wished I had done from the start was keep a journal, log, or blog of my progress, and save some of the funny comments and [somehow our two romantic leads have to sword fight their way out of a masquerade ball in this scene while dressed to the nines] notes-in-brackets I left in the draft but went back and deleted later once I actually filled out the scene. Hence the existence of this blog now.

One of these days I would also like to develop a proper writing schedule to make more consistent progress throughout the year (instead of the random sprints of activity followed by months of not touching it that I do now). But between the ADHD and the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome I don't know when that will happen.

[kenobireads]

Revenge Isn't Just for Sith

As promised, a chapter from the sequel to Attachments Aren't Just for Jedi!

Note: this isn't the first chapter. It has not gone through my final draft stage, so pardon any errors!

“Agent Kallus,” Ar’alani said from the head of the small conference table when the door opened. “How is Lily?”

He sighed and plopped down into a chair with a nod to Eli, who looked up from the questis his nose was always buried in. It was no mystery why the admiral was asking about Lily first thing. The Vigilant had returned to Ascendancy space a week earlier, and Kallus and Lily received orders to join them for the next leg of the journey. Except, she has not left her room since boarding five days earlier. Actually, he wasn’t sure either of them have truly seen Lily in almost a month.

Without a doubt, Lily has achieved impressive things in the four months they’ve been in the Ascendancy. But since the syndic hearing, she has become reclusive. He didn’t think she was depressed, rather, it reminded him of the time she wrote the study on Palpatine and his insane religion. Lily had disappeared for three weeks; even Thrawn had seemed concerned.

Ironic, really, how the restless woman could become so focused on something, she ceased being restless altogether.  

“That bad?” Eli asked, still with the appearance of being prepared to look back at his device at any moment.

“On the surface, she’s fine.”

“And in reality?” Kallus wasn’t sure how to put it, but he gave it his best shot.

“Thrawn took care of her, and I think she’s struggling to find a routine because of it.” It was more than that. It was as if the only thing she knew how to do was work—so that’s all she did.

“You mean like, he tucked her in?” Ar’alani asked dryly. He gave her a matching look back. Kallus might be willing to get advice from the woman, but he wasn’t willing to mock Lily behind her back. That, he saved for teasing her to her face.

“He fed her. Anytime she was working with me at least, Thrawn ordered food brought to her. It irritated her at first, but I think it became her routine; she didn’t have to think about it.” Kallus ran a hand through his hair, something he seemed to do a lot lately. “I have a sneaking suspicion he helped manage her schedule as well. She double booked herself twice last week.” She worked like mad, but it was as if outside of work, she was lost.

“She has attention hyperactivity disfunction,” Eli said casually, focused on his questis once more. Kallus looked over at him, shock rolling through him. It would explain so much.

“How do you know?” Kallus had known Lily for almost a year now—how could he not know that? And, how was she so successful if it clearly impacted her? He’d looked up her net worth once when she first came to the Empire—it was multiple times more than Thrawn’s, which was quite high. The man seemed to spend very little money, and has been in an Admiral salary for a decade now, making his worth just over a million credits. Though it appeared Lily donated a huge amount of her money, she clearly worked her ass off. Large quantities of legally made credits were deposited into her account almost weekly—until Thrawn found her. Kallus didn’t understand how someone who needs help eating could achieve all that she had. He must ask her about it. Perhaps he could help.

“Thrawn sent her medical records with the other data.”

“What is that?” Ar’alani asked.

Eli scratched his head. “Ah, I had to look that up for her paperwork. There isn’t a diagnosis for your people. The closest disorder is based on attention; nothing is mentioned for hyperactivity. It’s called attention deficit disorder.”

“Ah, yes. Chiss usually grow out of that.”

“Yeah that’s what I read. It seems Lily was medicated up until she joined the military. My guess is, Thrawn simply tried to ease some of the symptoms. She just needs time to find her groove.”

Kallus’ questions were answered, perhaps. “Why did she stop medicating?”

Eli shook his head. “That wasn’t in her file, I’m afraid. Technically, the Empire doesn’t restrict the drug, though it is a stimulant, and most militaries don’t allow you to take them.” A stimulant? She was energetic enough.

“I suppose I’ll try to pay more attention,” Kallus mumbled, his hand on his chin. Maybe Lily just needed some reminders throughout the day.

“If Thrawn wanted you to take over for him, he would have said so.” Kallus gave the man a small, rueful smile. Thrawn did not exactly communicate well.

“Maybe. But my only purpose for being here is for Lily.”

Ar’alani raised her eyebrows. Yes, she understood why Thrawn had kept them together—and did not think it was so Kallus could be her secretary. “I don’t believe that is correct. Thrawn had a list of suggestions of what you would be good at doing here. His only request was that you two work together.”

The door slid open and Lily rushed in with notebooks filling her arms, her stomach beginning to round. Kallus stood, surprised to see her.

“You’re not going to fucking believe this,” she said in Basic before dropping the notebooks to the table. “I found them.”

“What?” Kallus asked, aware that she was practically buzzing with excitement. So excited she couldn’t be bothered to speak Cheunh.

“I found the Grysks,” she said as she began flipping through notebooks.

“How?” Ar’alani asked, her voice dark.

“I analyzed ancient maps,” she said—as if they haven’t had experts doing that for decades. She glanced up at Ar’alani, sensing her hesitation. “Your databases have been altered in the past. The maps aren’t complete,” she found a page and pushed the notebook to her. “This isn’t completely accurate, but I believe it is close. My father and I came across a map the same place we found the Chiss chains. He sold it, but I had drawn a copy. The copy was lost, but when I was in university, I tried to redraw it from memory. Of course, I transferred it to my master document years later.”

Kallus leaned over and looked at it. “And you cross referenced it,” he said distractedly.

“Yes.” She looked between the three, barely contained excitement on her face. “There is a point in space that has been largely considered empty of life. Asteroid fields, unlivable planets. A dangerous place to go.” Her eyes focused on Ar’alani’s, and she took a breath. “I think it’s a two thousand year old conspiracy.”

She set two notebooks in front of them. “These are from two separate maps. What do you notice?” Eli smiled to himself, feeling like he was with Thrawn again. A more manic, attractive Thrawn.  

“There are similarities. Are they of the same part of space?” Kallus asked before Ar’alani could answer.

“They’re the exact same sector.”

Kallus shook his head. “But they’re too different.” He looked back at her first drawing. Then his eyes widened. Lily grinned and pulled the two notebooks back and ripped the papers out, and held them up to the light, pressed together. Then she added a third paper.

“They’re all incomplete,” Ar’alani said quietly.

“Correct. But if you put them together, they look exactly like the map I found so long ago.”

“No Chiss would have altered our maps.”

“No, I doubt they would. They were altered before they fell into Chiss hands.”

“So we need to get scouts there,” Ar’alani muttered.

“No, I wouldn’t.” The fleet admiral’s eyes flashed up to hers.

“Why?” she challenged.

“If this has been occurring for thousands of years, they probably have plenty of safeguards. All nearby systems will be watched. Even if you used the sky-walkers, you’d probably have to do a twenty hour long jump to avoid any scouts.” Her face went a little distant, blinking fast as she had an idea.

“That isn’t possible,” Ar’alani said. “They would collapse from exhaustion.”

“Yes,” Lily muttered. “We cannot ask that of a child…”

“What are you thinking?” Kallus asked her, beginning to recognize the look. She stared at him for a moment, her face turning dubious.

“A Jedi could do it. They can use the Force to sustain themselves, essentially keeping themselves awake and alive without food or water.”

“Jedi?” Eli asked skeptically. They were gone.

“Yeah…” she said, still mumbling, lost in her mind. Her eyes flicked over to Ar’alani. “How do you contact Thrawn?”

“A communication device.”

“Is he the only contact you have in Lesser Space?”

“For the most part, yes.”

She let out a little huff and rolled it over in her mind. Thrawn likely wouldn’t be working with the Rebels yet, as long as he hadn’t altered their planned timeline too much. That meant he was not the best option to ask this of, but it was apparently her only option. “I need to speak with him.”

The admiral shook her head. “That isn’t how it works. You can send a message, but you will not be able to speak to him. It just isn’t possible.” Lily raised an eyebrow at her. If a message could be sent, so could a call. It was probably time to reveal more of her skillsets to her Chiss allies anyway.

“May I see the technology?”

“You’ll have to go to a communications triad if you plan to work with it, but Naile, we have expert engineers.”

“I understand Admiral, but if I may, I’d like to try.”

Eli raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You believe you can what, slice it?”

Lily gave him a guarded smile. “Perhaps.”

And, scene!

I might post another with one of Thrawn's early chapters, but I haven't decided yet! Hope you enjoyed this little teaser!

[dicktective]

[werner herzog in the mandelorian vc] eye would like to see 'CALIFORNIA HERE WE COME' 👀

bahahaha well it's written partly by myself and party by kat but i'll share some of what i wrote:

It starts with Robin. 

Not that he was ever the sort of person to believe in like, fate, or God, or whatever, but every single action--every single moment up until this exact moment in time--started with her.

Beneath him, as his feet dangle knee deep in the depths of the cold morning surf, he tries not to feel overwhelmingly suffocated by this particular fact. Because he can’t hate Robin. He can’t. He knows that none of this is actually her fault--that he and he alone was in charge of the series of spurious, half-baked ideas that lead to this particular sequence of events--but god, why didn’t she try and stop him? 

Oh, right. 

She had. 

She had tried to tell him this was a dumb idea--just wait it out for another year, dingus’; we can move in with each other then--and Steve had looked her, scoffed with his eyebrows raised cheek achingly high, and let an incredulous: fuck that. 

So he bought a van. 

He put in his two weeks notice with his boss at Sears--the older woman was almost sad to see him go--said he had a way with the customers--and took out a bank draft.

He bought a van, packed it in a moment of ill-conceived anger directed vaguely towards his father, and spent two days driving to California. He got lost only once (or maybe twice), but when he showed up outside the dormitories of UCLA, unshowered and half asleep from two uncomfortable nights spent sleeping curled up on the floor behind the driver seat, Robin had nearly killed him. 

He had to listen to her rattle off a list of all the reasons why dumping half of his savings into a stupid van (a really, really ugly one, she added) to follow her halfway across the country was crazy! And also, Steve, where the heck do you think you’re going to stay? I already told you before I left you can’t crash at the dormitories and apartment prices in downtown L.A are crazy. 

“The van,” he had simply told her. As if this van was going to be the solution to all of his life's problems. 

“The van,” Robin had parroted. “The van with no mattress, no running water, and no way to cook a meal in it.”

Steve had just shrugged, but one of the first things he had done was go pick up a crappy mattress from one of the local Salvation Armys. 

And for a while it was fine. 

He spent a few days parked outside the dormitories and they would get lunch together, or sometimes hangout in the park near the campus library and there was even the occasional movie night when Robin's roommate was out visiting her boyfriend.

But then classes picked up and Robin got busy. The security guard at her dormitory complex told him politely if not firmly that because he wasn't a student at the university he couldn't keep parking there overnight. There was no place to shower and he couldn't keep sneaking into the building with Robin to wash his clothes without getting dirty looks.

Also eating a steady diet of gas station food--of bagged jerky and teeth-rottingly sweet snack cakes--was really starting to do a number on his stomach.

He didn't tell her his.

Instead, he went back to the same Goodwill where he had picked up the mattress and bought a surfboard. 

He smiled and told her half-truths about how amazing this all was. Of mornings spent at the beach and afternoons getting sun tans. Of all the sites he was seeing. The people he was meeting. Of this killer wave he hit the day before and God, Robin, you should have been there to see it. 

Robin always laughs and smirks and rolls her eyes when he talks about it all. About surfing at sunrise (she still doesn’t fully believe that it’s something he’s capable of, he believes), of the late afternoons spent sleeping on the beach, of the weird cat he sometimes gets to see when he’s grocery shopping in the gas station near the freeway. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Steve,” she had told him. “I’m glad this is working out.”

The water beneath his board swells in a sudden and unnatural crest and Steve’s fingers clamp down on its edges, steadying himself just to stay afloat. 

Then, he turns and looks to the beach. People are slowly arriving, slowly unpacking beach towels and folding metal chairs. There’s a kid with a ball and a family with a dog and a group of teenagers perched in a huddle near the sandy stairs leading to the boardwalk. Steve sighs and begins to paddle the board back towards shore. 

He woke up to another parking ticket. It was there, plastered in its disgustingly muted pink under the rubber edge of his van's windshield wiper. It’s another thing he won’t tell Robin. Another half-truth. 

Because a part of him really wanted this. A part of him had wanted her to be wrong. 

She isn’t though--and rarely has been. 

But again, Steve won’t tell her this. He can’t.

[nsfwmiamiart]

(First Draft Version) Incoming Text for Kim Kardashian (@kimkardashian) and LA LA (@lala):

Dear Kim and La La,

You should call Mouloud Achour (@mouloudachour) and Omar Sy (@omarsyofficial) because they will help you become my neighbors in Vendenheim, Alsace.

The Somali Royal Family will settle in Vendenheim, Alsace and we will be protected by the French armed forces and the police.

You should think about becoming our neighbors with Kanye West because it's better for your future business ventures.

You can't ask me to come see you in America, you know very well I'm a King they want to see losing his throne, so it's you who have to visit me and not the other way around.

Also, make sure you bring trustworthy lawyers because we will plot a lot of financial schemes with South Korean bankers and Norwegian bankers and French bankers.

My dear, Kim and La La, have you ever seen me write a letter to you before? I never write letters to Kim and La La because I didn't want to attract the attention of haters. I wrote once or twice to Kim, that's all.

If I'm writing to you today, it's to give you a heads up, you will lose a lot of money if you don't find a way to become my neighbors in Vendenheim, Alsace. It's in the billions of dollars, so make sure you remember the kind of money you will be losing if you don't find a solution to move next door to the Somali Royal Family.

You can't ask me to call you on the phone, they listen to our phone calls and you can't ask me to visit you in America because they take pictures and will use those pictures to slander us in the media. So, what is the solution to this problem, you ask? You have to move next door to me in Vendenheim and become my neighbors to protect your privacy.

You should also encourage Kanye West and YesJulz to buy a home in Vendenheim as well, that way we can meet and plot our moves in secret like a true royal family.

I have a question to ask you: "How would you feel if someone robbed 20 billion dollars from you?"

This is what will happen if you refuse to move next door, you will lose this huge sum of money and I can't help you protect this wealth if you refuse to move next door.

Remember that this is the apocalypse and they want to make our interactions difficult, make our phone calls difficult, our meetings difficult. You are now responsible for saving your wealth by teaming up with Omar and Mouloud to help you move to Vendenheim, Alsace.

If you refuse to move here, I will not be held responsible for your wealth.

I can't come to you, because we are all under scrutiny in America.

You will have to come to us, it's the only way out, your exit door is Vendenheim, Alsace.

You should also know that Kanye West will lose a lot of money if he refuses to move to Vendenheim, Alsace.

Whatever money he lost back in 2022, I will help him get much more than that, but he must buy a home in Vendenheim, Alsace that way we will plot our moves in the Mudug region from Alsace.

You should know that you will remember this letter in the future and you will know that I did my best to give you this information. If you don't use it to advance your financial interests, it's not my fault, you will have only yourselves to blame.

Just know that in the future, I will tell you: "Do you remember that letter I sent you?"

Kim K will reply: "Yeah, I remember that letter, but I did nothing to come secure my wealth."

I will reply: "Is it my fault? I did what a friend does, I shared the information, if you refused to secure your wealth, you only have yourself to blame."

Remember this letter when you will attempt to accuse me of being a fake friend because I will use this same letter as a reminder that I was a real friend, but you were too lazy to do the work required to secure your wealth.

Remember that I have allies in the Samsung family protecting my wealth, no one can steal my wealth.

Kim and Kanye have to find a solution to protect their wealth, and guess who is the plug? I'm the plug.

I respect y'all Kim and Kanye, but you should never expect me to come to America and put my throne in danger. I will never come to you. It's the opposite, you have to come to me, I hope my message is clearly understood.

I hope you and La La will find a way to free yourselves from all the scrutiny in American territory.

Even Elon Musk will have no choice, the only place he can meet me is in Vendenheim, Alsace. It's only a matter of time before Elon moves into the neighborhood as well. Have you seen what Elon did to German politics? Elon has his own political party in Germany right now, he is basically a German citizen now.

Your loyal friend,

King Angelo.

[erebusvincent]

In an interview with Fox and Friends last Wednesday, Trump likewise dismissed the argument that flag burning is a form of constitutionally protected expression. "You should get a one-year jail sentence if you do anything to desecrate the American flag," Trump said. "Now, people will say, 'Oh, it's unconstitutional.' Those are stupid people. Those are stupid people that say that."

Those "stupid people" include Justice William Brennan, who wrote the majority opinion in the 1989 case Texas v. Johnson, which rejected the prosecution of Gregory Lee Johnson for burning a U.S. flag during the 1984 Republican National Convention in Dallas. They also include Scalia, who joined that opinion along with Justices Anthony Kennedy, Thurgood Marshall, and Harry Blackmun.

Scalia took the same position in the 1990 case U.S. v. Eichman. That decision overturned the Flag Protection Act of 1989, which Congress passed in response to Johnson.

"We are aware that desecration of the flag is deeply offensive to many," Brennan said, again writing for the majority. "But the same might be said, for example, of virulent ethnic and religious epithets, vulgar repudiations of the draft, and scurrilous caricatures [all of which the Court had deemed protected by the First Amendment]. 'If there is a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the Government may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable.' Punishing desecration of the flag dilutes the very freedom that makes this emblem so revered, and worth revering."

Scalia later cited the flag-burning cases to illustrate how his textualist approach to constitutional interpretation sometimes led him to rule against his personal inclinations. "If it were up to me, I would put in jail every sandal-wearing, scruffy-bearded weirdo who burns the American flag," he said in a 2015 speech. "But I am not king."

Scalia's distinction between what the Constitution requires and what he might otherwise prefer probably would be lost on Trump, who seems to value freedom of speech only to the extent that it protects him and his allies.

[missholloween]

😍😔 for the writing ask game?

I AM SO SORRY I THOUGHT I POSTED THESE AND I JUST FOUND IT ON MY DRAFTS. I LIVE IN SHAME

😔 published lines or a section of a fic that was super sad, angsty, or difficult to write?

I could've chosen anything from my curtwen week fics because I don't write them being happy.

However, I got so sad writing the first fic, A eulogy. Writing Curt's part actually made me tear up twice, something that totally got me by surprise.

These are the culprits:

Why did he think he could say goodbye? Curt had never been a wordsmith. He was a man of fleeting compliments, of chivalrous gestures and big acts of love. Words were difficult for him. They required precision, clarity; they demanded an honesty that he had always struggled with. Curt had never been able to put his feelings into words. Even at his partner’s funeral, he was incapable of sharing a few words. The widower stood in front of the building for hours. He remembered his smile and body, that he had grown to know more than his own. He remembered his quick wit and his sharp tongue; his piercing eyes and his beat-up hands that had accompanied him on many sleepless nights. Curt remembered all the missions they had served together, as well as a couple that would never be shared. He thought of all the stories that no one but them knew: stories of hotel rooms, of empty bars in long-lost towns and coded messages in made-up ciphers. He cried, and laughed, and wailed, and screamed. Again and again, he cursed the man who had taken those memories from him. Curt wasn’t able to look at his lover’s tomb during his quiet eulogy. He kept his head down, with eyes filled with tears. Every time he tried to speak, a wail came out. The only sentence he was able to finish was “I’m sorry”. He repeated it, over and over again, a quiet litany that would accompany him for years.

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

I had two options in mind, and I've realized that both options are bantering. It truly is a love language <3 (and so so fun to write).

This is from a Lautski fic I wrote at the end of last year, Quick break. I love lautski, they make me so happy, and they're so fun (and easy) to write. The fic itself helped me get through my finals season, so I cherish it a lot <3

“Mister Handsome needs more time to get ready? I can wait if you need to…” Pete blushed, quickly putting his hands away from the camera. “No, no, I w- I was just… Taking some hair off my face, you know?” “Oh. Is that why you were so close to your cam?” “Yeah, to get all of them out of my way! I am precise in my craft.” Steph smiled fondly. “Hey.” Pete smiled back, lovestruck. “Hi.” “You look cute though. Casual really suits you. Maybe you could go for a look like this more often.” Pete chuckled and started to get up. “Oh, you mean a look like this?” He had moved away from the computer as much as he could, as his headphones were connected by a wire. The camera now showed Pete from his chest to his knees. “Do you think I should wear my old, oversized MarioKart pajamas to class?” “Why not!” “Do you want me to make a list, a presentation, an essay…?” “Okay, okay, fine. You’re right. Hatchetfield High is not ready for your lingerie.”

[muiitoloko]

Stubborn hearts

Summary: You're stubborn, but so is Karl. He wasn't willing to give up on you, even if the constant rejection hurt him.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Rejection and mild anguish

Author's Notes: Can you believe I wrote this scene twice? Originally, I had this fun idea of them both having a comical fight over being scared of a cockroach, but then I thought, "Wait, would that really fit with Alan Rickman's performance style?" So, I decided to rethink and rewrite the entire scene without any cockroaches, unlike the original draft. 😅

Also read on Ao3

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth part here.

In the days that followed, Karl's attempts to win you over continued, but the gulf between you remained as wide as ever. He showered you with gifts—a new set of books, elegant jewelry, and even a grand piano for the music room—but each gesture seemed to push you further away rather than draw you closer.

Despite your continued rejection of Karl's advances, you found solace in the company of the Pomeranian puppy he had gifted you. You had named him Mouse, partly out of defiance but also because the name seemed to fit his small, jittery personality.

Mouse quickly became your constant companion, following you around the estate as you went about your daily routines. His playful antics and unwavering loyalty began to melt the icy walls around your heart. You found yourself talking to him, confiding in him your frustrations and dreams, knowing he would never judge or demand anything of you.

One afternoon, as you walked through the gardens with Mouse trotting alongside you, you heard Karl's footsteps behind you. He approached cautiously, as if afraid of startling you or upsetting the fragile peace between you.

"May I join you?" Karl asked tentatively, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

You paused, considering his request. Mouse looked up at you expectantly, and you sighed softly. "If you wish," you replied coolly, continuing your walk with Mouse at your side.

Karl fell into step beside you, keeping a respectful distance. "He seems to adore you," he commented, nodding towards Mouse.

You glanced down at the small dog, who was busy sniffing a flower. "He's a good companion," you admitted, your voice softening.

Karl smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I'm glad," he said quietly. "I hoped he might bring you some comfort."

You nodded slightly, a flicker of gratitude touching your expression. "He has," you admitted, turning your gaze back to the gardens, ignoring him.

Karl sighed at your coldness and decided to leave you alone, feeling the weight of your distant demeanor heavy on his shoulders. He turned to walk away, the disappointment evident in his posture as he retreated, hoping to give you the space you seemed to desire.

Later, as you sat in the library, the soft glow of the afternoon sun casting warm rays through the windows, you found yourself lost in the pages of a book. Your faithful companion, Mouse, was curled up at your feet. The gentle rustle of pages turning was the only sound in the room until the door creaked open, breaking the peaceful silence.

Raising your eyes from the text, you saw Karl entering, a hesitant smile playing on his lips beneath his thick mustache.

"May I join you?" he asked softly, his voice cautious.

You glanced at him over the edge of your book, a hint of amusement in your eyes. "It's your house, Karl. You don't need my permission," you replied matter-of-factly, returning your attention to the page before you.

Karl sighed, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in the sound. Nonetheless, he moved further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the shelves of books as if searching for something to occupy his attention.

"What are you reading?" he inquired after a moment, his tone light but curious.

"A book," you replied with a hint of sarcasm, not bothering to look up.

Undeterred, Karl continued his search for a book, occasionally stealing glances in your direction as if trying to gauge your mood. Eventually, he made his way to the sofa where you sat, his steps hesitant.

"Which do you think I should read?" he asked, his tone softer now, more tentative.

You sighed inwardly, recognizing the effort Karl was making to engage with you. Setting your book aside, you motioned for him to join you on the couch.

"Come here," you said, your voice softer than before. "Let's read together."

Karl's expression softened with surprise, but he nodded and took a seat beside you, careful not to intrude on your space.

You reached for the book you had been reading, a well-worn copy of "Pride and Prejudice," and opened it to the first page. "I was just starting this," you explained, your voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty.

Karl glanced at the title with interest. "Ah, a classic," he remarked with a small smile.

You nodded in agreement, turning to the first chapter. "Shall we begin?" you asked, and began to read aloud.

"Chapter One. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

As you read, Karl listened attentively, the words of Jane Austen weaving a spell of enchantment around you both. Your voice, though soft, carried the subtle humor of the text, drawing Karl into the story with each word.

And as the chapters unfolded, the tension between you seemed to melt away. The shared activity brought a sense of quiet companionship, a bridge over the gap that had separated you for so long. Karl's presence beside you felt less imposing, more comforting, and you found yourself relaxing in his company.

When you finished the chapter, you glanced at Karl, surprised to see a genuine smile on his face. "Thank you for reading," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

You returned the smile, feeling a sense of connection that had been missing between you before. "You're welcome," you replied, a hint of warmth in your tone.

Karl hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Would you like me to continue?" he asked tentatively, gesturing to the book in his hands.

You considered his offer, touched by his willingness to share this moment with you. After a moment's thought, you nodded. "I'd like that," you said, and settled back against the cushions, ready to listen as Karl began to read.

As Karl continued reading, Mouse, the faithful companion, lay curled up at your feet, his soft snores adding to the tranquil atmosphere of the library. The warm glow of the lamplight bathed the room in a cozy ambiance, wrapping you both in a cocoon of peace and comfort.

Suddenly, Karl paused, his gaze lingering on the page before him. "You know," he said, his voice thoughtful, "the dynamic between Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy feels familiar, doesn't it?"

You turned to him, intrigued by his observation. "How so?" you inquired, curious to hear his perspective.

A faint smile graced Karl's lips as he explained, "Their relationship, at its core, is a journey of understanding and growth. Despite their initial misunderstandings and differences, they find a profound connection rooted in mutual respect and admiration."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, considering his comparison carefully. "You believe our relationship mirrors theirs?" you asked, searching his eyes for sincerity.

Karl nodded earnestly, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, I do. Despite our differences and the challenges we've faced, I believe there's a potential for something meaningful between us."

But you couldn’t stifle a laugh, though it was laced with bitterness. “Karl, let’s not deceive ourselves. Ours is not a love story. It's a pact of convenience. I didn’t choose this path, and I certainly didn’t choose you.”

Karl’s gaze dropped to the book in his hands, his grip tightening as he absorbed your words. "Why do you reject me so vehemently?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and pain.

Your frustration boiled over, fueled by resentment. "How can you even ask that?" you shot back, your tone sharp with anger. "You destroyed my family's business, Karl! You purposely drove it to ruin just to manipulate my father into agreeing to this marriage."

Karl's expression faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I never intended to—"

"Don’t bother with your excuses," you interrupted, your voice icy with contempt. "You desired me, and you exploited my family's vulnerability to fulfill your own ambitions. You may be old enough to be my father, but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate my life."

Karl opened his mouth to respond, but you refused to let him. "You are not the man I envisioned spending my life with, Karl. Not even close. My dreams were of love, of partnership, of a future built on trust and affection. Not this... this travesty."

Karl winced as your words pierced his heart. Releasing his grip on the book, he struggled to maintain his composure, his emotions roiling beneath the surface. After a moment of tense silence, he rose from his seat, turning to face you with a mixture of sorrow and defiance. "It doesn’t matter, [Your Name]," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "You're my wife now, and whether you accept it or not, you belong to me."

You recoiled at his assertion, your eyes blazing with indignation. "Belongs to you?" you spat, rising to meet his gaze with equal ferocity. "I don't belong to anyone, Karl. Especially not to you."

Karl's jaw clenched, his frustration evident. "I have tried to be patient, to understand you," he declared, his voice tinged with frustration. "I have extended olive branches, I have given you space, but I can no longer abide by that!"

With sudden resolve, Karl swore under his breath, his native tongue carrying the weight of his determination. "Genug ist genug!" (Enough is enough!)

Advancing towards you, he locked eyes with you, his resolve unyielding. "From this moment on, we will share the same bedroom, the same bed," he announced, his tone authoritative. "I refuse to tolerate this distance between us any longer."

You recoiled at his demand, shaking your head in defiance. "I will not share a bed with you," you declared adamantly, your voice trembling with resolve. "I would sooner sleep on the floor than spend a single night under the same roof as you."

Karl's gaze hardened, his determination unwavering. "So be it," he stated firmly. "But mark my words, [Your Name], this divide between us will not endure. I will do whatever it takes to bridge the chasm you've erected around your heart."

With that final declaration, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving you alone with your tumultuous thoughts. As his words echoed in your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped you, uncertain of what the future held for you and Karl, bound together by a marriage forged in strife.

As you lay in bed, the soft purring of Mouse providing a comforting backdrop, you couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled over you like a heavy blanket. The room felt stifling, suffocating even, despite the gentle glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls.

When Karl entered the room, a pillow in hand, you braced yourself for the tension that always seemed to accompany his presence. His silent entry did little to ease your discomfort, and you found yourself retreating further into the covers, seeking solace in their embrace.

As he settled into bed, you felt his eyes on you, a weighty gaze that made your skin crawl. Without a word, you made your decision, gathering your pillow and Mouse before rising from the bed. His voice cut through the silence, tinged with concern, but you paid it no mind.

"I'm going to sleep in the guest room," you announced, your tone firm and unwavering.

Karl's protest fell on deaf ears as you turned to leave, his confusion evident in the furrow of his brow. "Your duty as my wife is to sleep in the same bedroom as me." But you refused to be swayed by his attempts to assert authority over you, to dictate the terms of your existence.

"My duty as your wife?" you scoffed, your voice tinged with bitterness. "I never asked for this marriage, Karl. It was forced upon me, and I will not be confined by your expectations."

With that, you left him in the darkness, his frustration palpable in the air. Alone in the silence of the room, Karl's thoughts raced, his mind consumed by the image of you retreating to the guest room, away from him.

"Verdammt schwierige Frau!" (Damn difficult woman!) he muttered under his breath, the words a testament to his mounting frustration. He punched his pillow in a futile attempt to release his pent-up anger before extinguishing the light, enveloping himself in the darkness.

But despite his efforts to find rest, Karl found himself tossing and turning, unable to escape the gnawing sense of longing that consumed him. For in that moment, as he lay alone in the darkness, Karl couldn't deny the ache in his heart, the yearning for a connection that seemed just out of reach.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Karl couldn't bear it any longer. He rose from his own bed with practiced silence, mindful not to disturb the other occupants of the house. Step by step, he navigated the familiar corridors until he reached your guest room.

Pausing at the threshold, Karl's heart raced with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. With a steady hand, he pushed the door open, the hinges protesting softly against the intrusion. Mouse, your loyal companion, stirred at the sound, his inquisitive eyes meeting Karl's.

Karl offered a tender smile to the faithful dog, beckoning him over. Mouse obliged, his tail wagging in anticipation. With a gentle touch, Karl closed the door behind him, leaving Mouse outside. Now it was just you and Karl, alone in the stillness of the night.

Approaching the bed with cautious steps, Karl's gaze softened as he beheld your peaceful form, a hint of furrowed brow betraying your slumbering mind's wanderings. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Karl eased himself onto the bed, careful not to disturb you.

As he settled beside you, the warmth of your body beckoned to him, drawing him in. With a tender touch, Karl pulled you close, enveloping you in his embrace. A sense of calm washed over him as you nestled against him, fitting perfectly into the curve of his arm. In that moment, Karl found solace in the simple intimacy of being close to you.

"You're so stubborn," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

You stirred slightly in your sleep, mumbling something unintelligible. Karl chuckled quietly, his chest tightening with affection.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair.

You shifted again, curling into him even more. Karl felt his heart swell with warmth, feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time.

"You're worth the fight," Karl whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

But as he lay curled up in bed with you, Karl sighed softly, his breath barely audible in the quiet of the room. He knew that you wouldn't approve of this closeness if you were awake, but he couldn't help but relish the moment. Despite the tension and distance between you during the day, being here with you now felt strangely comforting.

Gazing at you, sleeping soundly beside him, Karl couldn't help but admire your peaceful expression. In the soft light filtering through the curtains, you looked utterly serene, your defenses momentarily down. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, unable to resist the urge to touch you.

Karl leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. He knew you wouldn't appreciate such intimacy, especially considering the strained dynamic between you. But in this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the tenderness he felt towards you.

As he stood up, Karl heard Mouse scratching at the door, eager to join him. He glanced back at you once more, feeling a pang of longing as he admired your slumbering form. Despite the complexities of your relationship, he couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards you, the desire to be close to you in whatever way he could.

Opening the door, Karl welcomed Mouse inside, watching fondly as the little dog bounded into the room, his tail wagging with excitement. Mouse struggled to climb onto the high bed, and Karl couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He reached down, scooping up the small dog and helping him settle on the bed beside you.

Seeing Mouse snuggle up next to you, Karl smiled softly, a twinge of sadness tugging at his heart. In that moment, he wished things could be different between you, that he could openly express his affection without fear of rejection. But he knew that such fantasies were futile, mere illusions in the face of reality.

With a heavy heart, Karl left the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He made his way to his own bedroom, the weight of the night bearing down on him. As he settled into bed, surrounded by the darkness and silence of his room, Karl couldn't shake the image of you sleeping peacefully, a reminder of the distance between you that seemed insurmountable.

The memory of your presence lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the warmth he craved but couldn't have. He traced the empty space beside him, where you were meant to be, feeling the weight of your absence like a physical ache.

Despite his longing, Karl knew he had to respect your boundaries, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires. He sighed deeply, the conflict within him palpable. He couldn't force you to feel what he felt, no matter how deeply he loved you.

But love wasn't something Karl could control. It had crept up on him unexpectedly, refusing to be ignored despite his attempts to keep it at bay. He loved you with a depth he couldn't explain, a fierce devotion that left him vulnerable and exposed.

As he lay there, lost in his thoughts, Karl couldn't help but wonder why it had to be you. Of all the women in the world, why did he have to fall for someone so out of reach? It was a question that tormented him, a mystery he couldn't unravel.

He longed to bridge the gap between you, to break through the walls you had erected around yourself. But every attempt seemed to push you further away, leaving him feeling helpless and alone.

"Why do you repudiate me so much?" he whispered into the darkness, his voice heavy with emotion. "Can't you see how much I love you? How much I want to make you happy?"

The ache in his chest refused to ease, a constant reminder of the divide between them. Karl knew he had to respect your boundaries, to give you the space you needed. But it was a painful sacrifice, one that tore at his heart with each passing moment.

He closed his eyes, seeking solace in the memories they had shared. The moments of laughter and companionship, the fleeting glimpses of the woman he knew you could be. He held onto those memories like lifelines, desperate for any sign that you might feel the same way.

Karl wasn't one to give up easily. He had faced countless challenges in his life, overcoming each with a determination that bordered on stubbornness. But this, winning your heart, felt like the greatest challenge of all.

He loved you with a fierceness that both scared and exhilarated him. He didn't know how to love you any other way. And he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

So Karl lay there, alone in the darkness, his heart breaking silently as he wrestled with his love for a woman who couldn't return his feelings. But despite the pain, despite the uncertainty, he knew one thing for certain: he would never stop loving you.