#learn from my mistakes do not save something in drafts without tags

[strawberry-cowmilk]

do not save things in drafts without tags because turns out tumblr will post it for you??? hello I was NOT ready to release that I got a whole heart attack

[tundrainafrica]

Masterlist

This will serve as a personal tracker of all of the fics I have ever written, all of the books and series I have consumed etc. I wrote this out to help me organize my thoughts since I have time now to reflect on this closet hobby of mine. I also put it up just in case anyone has ever read my stuff and is curious about how these works are doing in my head space.

Some were written back when I was way younger so apologies for the quality.

ALEX RIDER

Come Home (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Memories don't keep people grounded in their present. They're the reason people think of what ifs and would haves, regrets and daydreams. Alex sees three dimensions of his reality and makes a decision. Set after Never Say Die.

Status: Done (I guess?), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Killing (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Spoilers for Never Say Die. Killing is like learning to ride a bike as Alex is going to figure out very soon. For Spyfest 2017.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Transparency (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Although the bank robbery made national news, the young boy who saved the lives of all the people in the bank didn't. First hand witness accounts said the boy was a hero, the media said there was no young hero in the bank and one journalist tries to get to the bottom of it all.

Status:WIP (could probably still finish it, it’s almost done anyway), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet)

Type II Error (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for Spyfest Week 3. Set before Ark Angel. The updates on payroll accounts and budgets lined up too well with mysterious deaths and undisclosed missions. An auditor working for MI6 decides for herself whether or not the orders of her bosses Blunt and Jones were worth prying into.

Status: Done (Oneshot), will post on tumblr yet

Unforeseen Circumstances (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It's April, the time of year when most students start salvaging their grades. Missions had taken their toll on Alex's grades and he needs to start salvaging soon or risk repeating the year. Nature wasn't on his side though and it turned out that his devil's luck had just run out.

Status: WIP (8/15), On hold, not posted on tumblr yet

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi and Hange’s Relationship in Erwin’s POV (Status: Completed, not posted yet)

A Tale of Two Slaves (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Status: WIP (6/?)

A Free Spot (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later. Written for Levihan Angstober Week 4. Prompt: Free Spot 

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Division of Labor (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly..."

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Status: WIP (1/?)

En Prise (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Status: WIP (1/18), will try to create a backlog before I post more.

Heroes or Victims (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post Chapter 115, Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Household Planning (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Status: Done (2/2)

Passion Project (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)    

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Status: WIP (1/3) Timeline written, Chapter 2 rough draft complete, not posted on FFN yet

Rough Day (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It should have been apparent to Hange by the weight gain and the sudden lack of red days. Somehow, Levi noticed it first.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Sugar Rush

(AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest one year late.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Would You Cry? (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams

Status: Done (Oneshot)

Vulnerabilities (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Although Levi is humanity's strongest soldier in the battlefield, his rough childhood had left him weaker and more vulnerable to illness. Levi had always taken measures to prevent sickness nit anyone who has ever been close to him caught wind on it anyway. A series of oneshots throughout the story focusing on Levi's chronic weakness and others taking care of him.

Status: Sporadic updates depending on mood, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Big Hero Six

Deal with the Devil  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

When mourning becomes too much for him, Hiro finds himself resorting to prayers and deals to bring back the brother he lost. The devil may have had pity on him but he never promised to let Hiro go unscathed.

Status: WIP, on hold, probably could get back to it just need to rewatch the movie, not yet completely posted on AO3 and tumblr

Fatal Flaw  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Grieving may be a long and painful process but in time most people do recover. For Hiro Hamada though something probably went wrong along the way because from what Aunt Cass could see, he was moving on yet at the same time, he wasn't.

Status: WIP, abandoned, completely forgot what I was planning, not yet posted on tumblr 

Coco

Dares, Pranks and Curses (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange. The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Somewhere between Life and Death (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Dia de los Muertos isn't the only day the dead can visit the living. Miguel is reunited with Hector, Imelda and his other relatives from the other side but in one of the worst ways possible and he finds himself caught in a struggle between life and death.

Status: WIP 9/20, on hold, timeline is complete just need to get it written, need to fix tumblr tags

Crossovers

Quest for Origin: Ranger’s Apprentice x Percy Jackson (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

A young boy gets washed up on the shore of Camp Half Blood with no memories whatsoever of his life before. How did he end up there? Is it all just a coincidence? Or is it a message from the Gods? What's with his uncanny skill with the bow?

Status: On Hold (25/35), timeline complete, will probably continue with PJO TV show comes out, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Kingdom Hearts

Coded Connection  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post KH3. If Kairi keeps Sora's memory alive, he'll eventually call out to her right? Then it will be her turn to find him, hold him and never let go.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr and ff

Kuroko no Basuke

Yellow, Red, Green, Blue and Purple  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Collab with friend back in high school. All Kise wanted to do was complete one more level of Flow Free before practice starts. When you have teammates as lazy, eccentric, hyperactive, sociopathic or invisible as the Generation of Miracles though, sometimes the things that sound the simplest, can be the hardest to do. Crackfic

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr

Ranger’s Apprentice

Being a Ranger’s Wife  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

As Will leaves on a suicide mission, Alyss ponders on her choice to have married him.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Danger Zone (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Rangers are human. Humans make mistakes. The difference though between an ordinary human and a ranger is the consequences they'll eventually face for past mistakes. Will should have known that for rangers, this included being on the run from an angry group of pirates with his silver oakleaf on the line.

Status: Probably Abandoned, first fanfic I have ever written lmao, completely forgot where I was going with this, not yet posted on tumblr or ffn.

Farmer’s Apprentice  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Masters, Apprentices and Sons (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Gilan accepts Morgarath's challenge in the Plains of Uthal and Halt is left to care for his apprentice in the aftermath of the battle. Halt wonders why it took him this long to realize that there was no fine line between an apprentice and a son.

Status: WIP. I have written out all the way until chapter 5 but I completely lost the files. I don’t know if my current frustration will allow me to continue this.

The Fall of a Hero  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will had fallen from his place as one of the top rangers in the corps and one of the top figures in Araluen and it's up to his friends to help pull him back up. Recovery Fic.

Status: WIP, timeline not written, could probably still continue this, just need to catch up to the series

Prince of Tennis

A Break from Ingenuity  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Timing is everything. Fuji gets his timing wrong, makes one misstep then finds himself facing a career ending injury. Maybe, that's when everyone will realize that he's human too.

Status: WIP. Will probs continue if new POT content comes out.

Yuri on Ice

Surprises  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

With all the stress piling up for the Japanese National Championship and more importantly, the World Championship, one can expect an athlete to get injured. To have the coach be the one struck by a career ending injury during practice is another story. That's exactly how Victor surprised the crowd though, maybe for the last time.

Status: WIP (3/?), not yet posted on tumblr

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 56

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

An hour before the initial team meeting, Tyler gathers privately with Anil; a chance to discuss the ‘rules and guidelines’ they’d drafted up when agreeing to run the mission together. While normally not one to hand over even partial control of a situation, it had been an easy decision to make. Anil a seasoned businessman with years in special forces; extensive working knowledge of weapons and hand to hand combat, unlimited resources and trustworthy informants with their ears to the ground. He never would have been able to pull off all the organizing and delegating on his own; his military days and his time as a merc seeing him as the one who followed plans and orders and got his hands dirty. Even with his years in the game, it’s still a lot to learn; going from simply part of the team to running the entire show. When it comes to the job, the only way to truly learn is to be thrown into the deep end.   Whether it’s running things behind the scenes or being dropped into the middle of an already volatile and unpredictable situation. You’re never fully ready; no real way of preparing yourself when no two missions are ever the same.

While the feeling of emptiness remains, it isn’t nearly as profound as it had been the night before; the ache in his chest still there, but not as painful. It’s a classic case of homesickness. Something he’d experienced every time he left for a job, but not to such an enormous extent. It isn’t just about missing what he left behind; from his wife and his kids to the view off the back deck and the sound and smell of the ocean. It isn’t just a longing to kiss her and hold his baby girl and hear his kids’ laughter and voices and see their smiles. With every other job he’d been able to handle whatever was thrown at him; to just roll with the punches -literally, at times- and think quick on his feet and improvise if need be. But this is different; far more complex and dangerous. With the bounty on his head, it was hostile territory before he even stepped foot on it. And it isn’t just his life hanging in the balance. His entire world...his entire existence...is being threatened. The stakes have never been higher, and even one simple mistake, at his hand or someone else’s, could destroy everything.

Both hearing her voice and Koen’s tough love -along with a hearty meal- had done wonders to ease some of the emotional suffering; sleeping surprisingly well, waking only to take some pain meds and then immediately drifting off again. Waking had been another story; disoriented at first, hand blindly reaching for that warm, soft body that’s normally beside him, only for his fingers to encounter cold, vacant sheets.  It had taken his brain several minutes to get over its confusion. Not even  remembering he was even in Mumbai; initially questioning if she’d gone ahead without him when it came to the kids’ morning routines, then wondering why the hell it was so quiet. That’s when the fear and the panic kicked in; the feeling of absolute dread that something horrible had happened to his entire family.  And if it hadn't been for the cautious hand Koen had put on his shoulder and his voice -surprisingly and uncharacteristically soft and soothing- saying “Easy, mate. Easy”, he’s pretty certain he would have had a full out panic attack.

Three hours later and his nerves have finally calmed.  The reality of the situation finally settling in; his focus and determination to get the job started taking precedence over all other feelings. The homesickness lingering  yet not threatening to devour him; able to concentrate on the conversation at hand and the very detailed and concise report on the screen of the laptop open in front of him. He’s had  little to say; silence enabling him to take in the information and plan around it. Organizing things in his mind; already designating the harder tasks to those he knows can handle them. With Rata in town now -having arrived from Cairns only two hours early- it makes four (including himself) with extensive military backgrounds; him and Nathan with time already served as mercs. Ovi, as eager as he is, is their weak link. He has no actual experience and this isn’t the ideal job for someone to be learning on. If the stakes weren’t so high, Tyler wouldn’t mind the kid tagging along and shadowing him. But he simply doesn’t have the time to babysit; his focus needing to be on getting shit done and keeping himself alive.

“You’ve said very little,” Anil comments, and moves to fill both their now empty coffee cups from a carafe in the middle of the table. They’ve sought privacy in the hotel’s private conference room that had been promised to the team upon arrival; sitting down before the briefing to ensure they’re on the same page.

“I’m not much of a talker.”

“A man of action and very few words.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“You miss home.” It's a statement, not a question.

“That obvious, huh?”

Anil gives a small, sympathetic smile. “More than a little. But to be honest, it would concern me if you didn’t miss home. You take great pride in being a family man.”

“Only thing I’ve done with my life that I AM proud of,” Tyler admits.

“Not your military service or the people you’ve helped as a mercenary? They don’t fit in your vision of things to be proud of?”

“Not really. I wouldn’t say killing people for money is something to be proud of. Or boast about but my kids are. For the most, I know I’m doing right by them; that I’m not screwing them up too much at least. I’m giving them a good life and a pretty stable home and they’re growing up seeing me love and respect their mother. When I’m old and gray and they’re good people and they’re treating others right and loving with everything they have, THAT’S something I can go to my grave being proud of.”

Anil nods slowly, considering Tyler’s words.

“I was something I never thought I’d have again,” he says. “A wife. Kids.”

“You were married before? Had children?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t see THAT in my file. I read it; I know it’s all in there.”

“To be quite honest, all I was concerned with was your track record as a mercenary. Your success rate.”

“My kill sheet, you mean.”

“That was one of your major selling points, I must admit.”

“My first marriage didn’t end well. There were a lot of things to blame, but my own issues and bad decisions played the biggest role. And I didn’t think I’d get that chance again; that I’d fucked up so bad I didn’t deserve to have it.  And then I met Esme and things happened pretty quick between us and now…” he shrugs. “...now it’s almost seven years and five kids later.”

“You felt you weren’t worthy of a normal life?”

“I guess. I guess I felt my mistakes were too big to be forgiven and that I didn’t deserve to be happy. Then I got into the job and I figured no one would want to get with some guy that kills people for a living. And then came the drinking and the meds.”

“You were in a bad place,” Anil concludes.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. It GOT pretty bad. I started taking the most dangerous I could, hoping someone would put me out of misery because I was too much of a coward to do it myself.”

“You were meant to live Or a bullet WOULD have found you. Whether someone put it in you, or you did it yourself.”

“Someone DID do it for me. A fucking teenager. A street thug. Shot me from behind and left me with this…” he rubs the tips of his index and middle fingers over the scar on the side of his neck. “...I came so close. So fucking close. And the worst part of it? I came that close to right when I decided I didn’t want to die anymore. Because someone had come along and made me feel alive again after years of feeling like a goddamn zombie. She gave me a reason to stick around and keep going. This hope that her and I would make something out of nothing. And maybe that sounds crazy seeing as we only knew each other for a really short time, but it’s the way it went. I came close to losing everything but it really became anything.”

“She saved you,” Anil says “On that bridge.”

“She saved me in every way a person CAN be saved.  And sometimes she still does. It hasn’t been easy; being with me. We've had a lot of hard, shitty times. But she’s been the one constant; the one thing I know I can count on. The one person that always has my back no matter what. She hangs in there. I don’t know why half the time, but I’m glad she does.”

“You should be grateful,” Anil gestures at him with his coffee cup. “For what you have. Especially for someone in your line of work.”

“Believe me, I am. No one else could do it. It takes a strong fucking person, and she’s the strongest I know. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Or my kids.”

“Which is why you’re here.”

“I don’t care how many lives I have to take. Or how I have to take them. No one fucks with my family.  I don’t care how much money or power they have. Because I’ll stop at nothing to keep my family safe. Even if that means I have to give up my life to do it. As long they survive. That’s all that matters to me.”

“They will be safe,” Anil assures him.  “At my home. I’ll have only my best men working. Around the clock.  Nothing will happen to them under my roof, that I can promise. The best people on top of the best security system money can buy. No one is getting close to them.”

“And I want to believe you, mate. And I want to have all the faith in the world with your people and your money. But I want to put someone there, too.  Someone I know I can trust. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I know they’d get the job done if it came down to it.”

“What is your man’s name? I'll do my own background check. I’ll…”

“Nik. Nik Khan. I know that you know who she is.  That you have a ‘working relationship’, whatever the hell that means. She’s the one I want. I worked for her for years and I know how good she is. I know the things she’s capable of. That’s who I want.”

“And you’re certain that she’ll do this for you? Put all the differences aside to do you this one favor?”

“She was the one that offered all the help in the first place. I never went to her. I think it’s safe to say she’ll do it.”

“And Ovi? What do we do with him? It would be dangerous for him...and us...if we allowed him out onto the streets. He’s had no formal training, no real experience with weapons…”

“Use him as a translator. Bring him along when we need to get information out of someone. And he can drop his last name. That’ll make people cooperate.”

“It’s risky,” Anil sighs. “Playing that kind of game.”

“Mate, this whole fucking thing is risky. We don’t even know where most of these guys on the list are. He drops the old man’s name and people will come to him.”

“Lure them? Ambush them?”

“You got a better idea? Because I sure as hell don’t. We’re going into this shit blind. More than the half the addresses on that list you gave don’t even exist. So either you made a mistake, someone gave you bad information, or you’re fucking with me. And you better hope it’s not the last one.”

“It’s the information I was given. From my people. Truly you don’t think I would go into business with you, offer my own home to your wife and children, give you access to all my resources, if I was planning on double crossing you.”

“Six months ago, I had a guy jump through some pretty big hoops to get to me. So yeah, I think you just might.”

“I am in this for my brother,” Anil insists. “To avenge him. His life was torn apart by Mahajan and Amir Asif. Neysa lost her husband;  Aarav lost his father.And for what? A battle between drug lords who deserved nothing more than being put down in the street like rabid dogs. I’m a man of action, myself. I don’t play games. If I wanted you dead, it would have happened already.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth. “Kind of bold of you to assume you’d be able to get it done and not wind up in a body bag yourself.”

“And that...that confidence...that edge…that’s exactly why I wanted to go into business with you. You and I are a lot alike, you know. Our backgrounds, our experiences, our trust and faith in our skills and our abilities. Alone, we’re dangerous. Together, even more so. Your family is safe; nothing will happen to them. I will make sure of that. And I’ll do whatever I have to make sure you return to them. We’re going to have many years of working together, and I very much look forward to it. We’ll be very successful. As long YOU don’t cross ME.”

“I don’t intimidate easily, mate.  I’m not in this to fuck you over. I’m in this to protect my family. That’s all that matters to me. I’ll do what I need to go, you just make sure you get shit done. Mahajan can’t still be breathing when all of this is over.”

“Oh believe me,” Anil says. “He won’t be.”

****

While the others gather in the conference room prior to the team meeting, Tyler retreats to the front lobby. Finding a small alcove that exists of nothing more than a simple wooden bench; tucked away from the foot traffic and the noise. And he’s slightly annoyed when one of Anil’s men move closer  in an effort to keep both an eye on him, and ward off any potential threats. There’s no way anyone could close without Tyler seeing them coming, and all the protection he needs sits in the holster on his right hip.  

He uses his personal cell to call home; both grinning and having to to hold it away from his ear when Millie answers with a shriek that even the ‘bodyguard’ can hear from ten feet away.

“Daddy! Mommy said you’d call before bed and you did! I knew you would! I knew that the bad guys wouldn’t stop you from calling us.”

“Nothing can stop me from talking to you guys.”  The mere sound of her voice and the thought of that unruly hair, those huge blue eyes and that bright smile with its missing teeth, returns the tears to his eyes and the tightness to his chest.  This is wrong. All so fucking wrong.  Having to be apart from them in the first place.  And that’s what makes the rage and the need for revenge begin to simmer yet again. That fact that someone ever put him...them...into this situation.

“I miss you,” Millie says. “I miss you doing my hair before school. Mommy’s good, but she’s not as good as you at it. And I miss how you tuck me in. Like a Millie burrito. The monsters can’t get me when I’m a Millie burrito. Do we get to see you soon?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“How busy things get. There’s a lot going on and I can’t see you guys until some of it is taken care of. But Auntie Nik will be there; when you arrive. I asked her to go and stay with you guys. Is that okay?”

“I guess. It’s not her fault that you have to leave. Not this time, anyway. But when will you get to see us? Soon?”

“I hope so. Are you okay?”

“I’m a bit sad,” she admits. “Because you’re not here. And ‘cause I don’t get to see you for a bit. And mommy’s sad too. She won’t admit it, but I know she is. Her eyes don’t look the same when you’re gone. When you’re here, her eyes are really sparkly and she smiles a lot. But now her eyes aren’t sparkly and she isn’t smiling much. And that hurts my heart; to see mommy sad. Why is she like that? We’re going on a trip. That should make her a little bit happy, right?”

He clears his throat noisily, then runs a hand over his face. Placing it against his forehead, eyes closed, elbow perched upon his knee. “She’s probably just tired. You guys are being good, I hope. You’re not giving her a hard time, are you? Eating all your dinner? Cleaning your rooms?”

“We’ve been good. We haven’t been fighting or arguing. I haven’t punched anyone in the face. Yet.”

“How about you not punch them in the face EVER.”

“Can I KICK them in the face?”

“No kicking, no punching, no head butts. No nothing. You can’t go through life beating people up because they make you mad.”

“But isn't’ that what you do?” Millie inquires. “People make you mad and you get to beat them up. That’s your job.”

“There’s a little more to it than that.”

“Sometimes you get to kill them?”

Tyler sighs. “Sometimes.”

“But they deserve it because they try to kill you first. So you have to kill them. That makes it okay ‘cause you don’t want to die. And you don’t want mommy or any of us to die either.”

He frowns. “What…?”

“I heard you, daddy. I heard you talking to mommy. I was pretending to be asleep, but I heard you guys talking. About why we’re really leaving. Because the bad guys said they were going to hurt us. So you wanted us to be closer so you could protect us if you had to.”

He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep a string of expletives from tumbling from his mouth. This is NOT what he wanted. It’s the last goddamn thing he wanted.

“Daddy, it’s okay,” Millie says. “I’m not scared. The bad guys don’t scare me anymore because I know you can beat them up and you won’t let them anywhere near us. You always protect us. Always. You’re not gonna stop now.”

“I’ll never stop protecting you. Not even when you’re married and have kids of your own.”

She giggles. “I don’t think my husband would like my dad around all the time.”

“He doesn’t have a choice. And he won’t protect you like I do. No one can do that. Do me a favor, yeah? Don’t tell your brothers what you know. Keep it to yourself, okay? And don’t tell your mother either; she’s worried enough. She doesn’t need to be worried about that too. Hear me?”

“I hear you. I’ll keep my mouth shut, I promise. If the bad guys DO find us, will you come and see us then?”

“Of course I will. In a heartbeat.”

“But they won’t, right? Find us?”

“You’ll be safe,” Tyler assures her, then looks up as Nik hovers two feet away, hands shoved in the pockets of her well tailored slacks; concern in her eyes and furrowing her brow. And he gives her a small, almost weary smile before adding, “Auntie Nik will make sure you’re safe. You can trust her. I trust her. With you and your brothers and your sister. And your mom. No one else I trust to watch over your guys. I gotta go. I got some things I have to take care of. I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Tell your mom I’ll call her a bit later. Give her a huge hug and a kiss from me.’”

“I will. Are you still wearing your bracelet?”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’m never going to take it off. And you’re right; I DO think of you when I look at it.”

“I’m going to make a matching one for me. So that when I look at mine, I’ll think of you and smile. Because I really miss you. I miss you reading me bedtime stories and taking me surfing and fishing and all that fun stuff. It hurts my heart and my tummy when you’re not here. I don’t like it when you’re gone and I can’t hug you.”

“I don’t like being gone either.” His voice wavers with emotion. “It hurts my heart too. I’ll see you soon, though. I promise.”

“Not soon enough though.”

“No. Definitely not soon enough.”

“I love you, daddy. We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“Very soon,” he assures her. “I love you, Amelia. Remember that, okay?”

“I will,” she promises, and then disconnects the call.

***

He presses end on his cell, then sits staring at the blank screen for several minutes. Thankful that Nik doesn’t speak or make a move to approach him. Simply giving him the space he needs to cope with all the emotions surging through him; loneliness, heartache. Rage that Mahajan has even threatened his family and put him in such a position. Guilt because he’d even gotten his kids dragged into such a huge, shitty mess. Had he just pushed her away seven years ago...if he just hadn’t been so fucking selfish...none of this would be happening.

“You okay?” Nik finally asks, when he shoves the phone into the side pocket on his cargo pants and then lays his palms against his forehead; thumb rubbing at one temple, index finger working on the other.

“Do I look okay? Do I honestly look okay?”

“I’m sorry; that was a stupid question to ask. Mind if I sit?”

“I don’t give a shit. There’s not much I give a shit about anymore.”

“I know this is hard,” she says, as she sinks onto the bench beside him.   “I know what this is doing to you; being away from them.”

“No. I don’t think you do. And if this is where you lecture me about getting my shit together and how I need to put my personal life aside and not get emotionally involved or some other bullshit you’re going to spew, save it. I know what I have to do. And when it’s time to do it, I’ll do it. Just right now…”

“All I was going to say is that I understand. I get how hard it is for you; leaving home. And how difficult it is this time around, considering the circumstances.”

“You’re not going to tell me that is all my fault? That I’m a selfish bastard for ever getting married and having kids? For bringing this shitty fucking life in the first place?”

“Nope. I’m not. Because you’re already busy saying all of that about yourself. I will tell you it’s bullshit. That you deserve a normal life. That out of all the people who tried this while still doing the job, you’re the one who deserved it the most. That you’re pretty much the envy of everyone who's tried to have that kind of life but have failed miserably. No one hates you the way you hate yourself, Tyler. And I’ve been telling you that for years.”

“So is that why you’re out here?” He asks. “You think I need to be talked down off some ledge? I’m fine, Nik. I miss home. I miss my wife and my kids and I’m fucking pissed that all of this is even happening. But once this gets going, once I get back into it and that first name is crossed off that list? All that is going to matter is crossing off the rest.”

“It won’t be that easy. You know that. Because Mahajan will know it’s you. IF he doesn’t already know you’re here. Only takes one rat to sink a ship.”

Tyler scowls. “You think we have a rat? That we have something to worry about?”

“I think there’s people around you that you shouldn’t trust. That you’re relying on a little too much. That you should step back and rely on yourself, not them. I’ve known you a long time, Tyler. I know how you work. And you work best on your own. Don’t put too much into other people. That’s all I’m saying.”

“What do you know?”

“Nothing for certain yet.  Just things I’m looking into. You’ll be the first one I come to if I get the answers I want. And I’m sorry; for the way things ended between us.”

“Nik...not now...there was never an us…”

“I don’t in that way. I mean work wise. Friendship wise. You left for a reason; a very good reason. And I should have accepted that.”

“You also should have accepted that I was married and just left me the fuck alone. Instead of trying to screw up my life. Over and over again.”

“I’ve apologized for that. A million times. And  if I could take it all back, I would.  I was hurt. That you chose her over me.”

“I didn’t want you in that way,” Tyler argues. “There was no choice to make. It was never between you and her. It was just her. That’s it. And I’ve told you this how many times? Even if Esme hadn’t come along, there still wouldn’t have been an us. But she DID come along. And she’s my wife and the mother of my kid and if you’ve got some ulterior motive behind being here or you’re gonna start your shit again…”

“No ulterior motive. I want to put everything behind us. Leave the past where it should be. Can we do that? Or least TRY to do that? I know it won’t be an overnight fix.  It’s going to take a while to get over   everything. But isn’t it worth a try?”

Tyler nods. “I guess. But I’m serious, Nik. I’m not letting you screw up my marriage. Because I love her. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I’m not leaving her, or my kids, for you or anyone else.”

“I know. And I hear you. Loud and clear. And speaking of kids, Addie is gorgeous. Esme let me hold her at the party. All that dark hair and those huge dark eyes? She’s definitely the odd duck out of the five. A very beautiful odd duck, mind you. And so tiny!”

“Yeah, she’s a wee one. So much like her mom. Looks just like her. And Esme deserved that; having at least one just like her.”

“I hear you even have a pet name for her.”

He grins. “You did, did you. Who told you that?”

“Don’t be shy about it. Or embarrassed. I think it’s cute; daddy’s little peanut. A guy like you turning into a big softie when it comes to his kids. Especially with his little girls. There’s something very compelling about you as a girl dad. It’s so easy to picture you boys; not so much with daughters. This big, tough guy with all his tattoos and his edginess and his ability to kick ass at the drop of a hat, getting all weak over his little girls.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I don’t mean like THAT, and you know it. I mean it in a good way. There was always that compassion and that humanity lingering inside of you, and it just took Millie and Addie to get it out of you. Not that the boys didn’t help. I’m just saying that you, with girls? There’s something pretty special about that.”

Tyler grins. “I thought you were going to say it’s karma considering some of the not so wise choices I’d made when it came to where I stuck my dick,”

“Your taste in women often had me both bewildered AND concerned. But there’s no karma involved.   You were given those girls because you’re damn good at taking care of them. Of ALL of them.  Never thought I’d see you braiding hair and playing Barbies and having tea parties.”

“Fuck, don’t say it so loud, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Trust me, nothing takes away from the fact that you do the job as well as you do. And it’s good to see you back at it. A bit of a surprise, mind you. And I really do wish you’d have given me a heads up. About the business thing.”

“I should have,” Tyler admits. “I realize that now. But it was never about fucking you over. Or about revenge. It was about needing something to do. I wanted back in the job without being right in it. And starting a business made all the sense in the world. I wouldn’t have to leave home as much. It’s not fair that Esme’s been practically raising those kids on her own. This way, I can do the job, take care of my family, and provide them. That’s all it was ever about. And I’m sorry. That I didn’t reach out to you and let you know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She smiles, then leans her shoulder into his. “That means a lot. Especially coming from you. I know it’s not easy for you to say the ‘s word’.”

He chuckles. “No. It’s not.”

“And I’m sorry too, For reacting the way I did.”

“Nerves were already pretty raw after New Zealand,” Tyler reasons. “I guess we both could have handled things different. And thank you; for offering to help. Coming here yourself, bringing your people, your resources. I appreciate it.”

“You’d do the same thing for me if I needed the help.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I would. In a heartbeat.”

“I spoke to Anil. He told me what you want. Me at the house.”

“I understand if you don’t want to do it. I know you probably came here wanting to get your hands dirty. So if you don’t want to do it…”

“I DO want to do it. And thank you. For trusting me with that. With THEM. I know that’s not easy for you; trusting people with your family.”

“If there’s anyone I DO trust with them, it’s you. Because I know what you’re like when you’re on a job. How focused and committed you are. I know you won’t let anything happen to them. I also know it’s probably going to be really weird with Kyle there.”

“I’m going into this with no emotional ties. I’m going into this like I would any other job. I’m all in. Nothing will happen to Esme or the kids. Not on my watch.”

“Thanks, I mean, I’d rather be there myself, but…”

“You need to do what you have planned. That’s where your focus needs to be. Trust yourself, Tyler. Your skills, your instincts. Trust yourself first and foremost. Promise me that.”

“Nik, what…?”

“Promise me. The things I’m looking into...the people I’m looking...I’ll tell you all about them when...and if...I get answers. For right now, trust yourself out there. Only yourself. Got it?”

He nods.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” she says, then stands up and smooths down the back of her slacks. “You do that, you’ll live through this.”

****

“The plan is to have most of you working in pairs,” Yaz says, as he stands at the head of the conference table, casting images from his laptop to the hotel provided smart board. “We’ve partnered Koen and Rata together given their extensive military service alongside each other, and Anil and Nathan together until things move to the prison at a later date. Then, Anil will work with Ovi to gain access to Mahajan. The prison, as rundown and overcrowded as it is, has extremely tight security and an army of heavily armed guards. It won’t be just as easy as going in there, carrying out the job, and getting out. More time and effort will be needed for that, and we may end up needing more people. We’ve got Nik going to head  security at Anil’s private residence, and Tyler working on his own. For now.”

“Why on his own?” Koen speaks up. “Why isn’t he with anyone?”

‘Because he has the experience the rest of you don’t have,” Yaz explains. “And he works better by himself. This isn’t about large scale take downs, so if any of you were thinking that kind of thing would happen and this would all be over with quick? I’ve got some bad news for you. We are going after two or three at a time. And given what Tyler was able to do in Dhaka when he took down an entire apartment on his own…”

“That was even years ago,” Koen interjects. “A lot’s changed in seven years.”

“I work better alone,” Tyler speaks up. “You heard what Yaz said. I don’t need to be babysitting. I’ve got shit to do and I don't need to be worrying about whoever’s tagging along.”

“It’s not safe for anyone to be working alone, never mind you,” Koen argues.  “Aren’t you the one with the bounty on his head? Wouldn’t it make sense if you’re the one with a sidekick watching YOUR ass?”

“I don’t need anyone watching my ass. I’m not a rookie. Worry about yourself, for fuck sakes.”

“Tyler has been doing this for years,” Nik says. “His record speaks for itself. He knows what he’s doing and if he needs help, he’ll ask for it.”

“Like hell he will,” Koen grumbles. “This reeks of you,” he addresses Tyler. “Always thinking you can handle shit on your own.”

“When it comes to the job, I can. So why don’t you just sit there, shut up, and let Yaz continue. Anil and I are running this and this is what we came up with. Deal with it.”

“How come I don’t get to go with anyone?” Ovi inquires.  “What am I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait until I’m needed?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Tyler replies. “You’re here to translate. And when we need you to translate, we’ll let you know.”

“I didn’t come all this way just to translate. That’s not what we talked about. I should be going with you.”

“Because that worked out so well the last time?” Tyler asks. “Last time we were in a job together, mate, I ended with me getting shot in the throat. I don’t want a repeat of that.”

“I was a kid then! I was fourteen. I’m almost twenty one. And I’m a merc now so…”

“Whoa...whoa…” Yaz holds up his hands. “...you are not a merc. You’re not even close to being a merc. That and that…” he nods at Nik, then Nathan, “...those are mercs. That…” he gestures towards Tyler. “...that’s a merc. You’re a baby merc.”

“He’s not even out of the womb yet,” Nathan chuckles. “Fetus merc.”

“Fuck you,” Ovi snarls. “Tyler’s been training me. On weapons, hand to hand combat…”

“And you’re nowhere ready to be out there,” Tyler says. “You think a few hours of training and you’re done? Do you know how long it takes to get used to doing this? To be confident doing it? You just don’t walk about knowing the ropes. You got a  long way to go.”

“I know how to shoot a gun.”

Rata scoffs. “Even I know it’s not as easy as just knowing how to shoot a gun. Do you have any experience? Any military background? Time at a shooting range? Anything that suggests you can properly deal with the weapons we’re handling?”

“I shot Gaspar,” Ovi points out.

Rata frowns, then turns to Koen. “Who the fuck is Gaspar?”

Koen shrugs.

“That was a handgun,” Tyler reminds Ovi. “And it won’t do shit for you when you’ve got an automatic rifle being fired at you. You’ll be dead before you even get one shot off. You’re not going out there. You’re going to stay here and help where you’re needed.”

“I’m needed out there!” Ovi argues. “You shouldn’t be out there alone!”

“Now the kid and I are agreeing on something.” Koen says. “You shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“You shit the fuck up,” Tyler orders. “I’m YOUR boss, remember? This is what’s going to happen. Either you fucking deal with it or leave. I don’t have time for your shit. Or…” he glares at Ovi “...your shit. Do I need to remind you whose family these people are going after? I don’t need anyone’s fuck ups destrying my entire life. So if either of you have an issues with how things are going to go, there’s the fucking door.”

Nik pushes her chair closer to the table and lays her hand on his shoulder, effectively calming him.  “The plan that Anil and Tyler have come up with is sound,” she says. “It makes the most logical sense. He does work better on his and that’s the way he prefers it. Until either of you have the experience he does and it's either of your entire lives on the line, keep your opinions to yourself. No one needs to hear them.”

“As I was saying,” Yaz continues. “These are the teams you’ll be working with. At least to start out. Things are subject to change as they go on and become increasingly difficult.  Once Mahajan realizes Tyler is in Mumbai and behind the killings of his men, things will heat up and then the game plan will have to change. Now you’ll all be fitted with radios and earwigs. State of the art. Wireless. So if you have to go into a place where your mark is, they won’t make you the second you walk through the door. Communicating with each other is to be done only through the SAT phones you were given yesterday. They can’t be bright by any outside source; I’ve made sure of it.  From here on out, the marks will only be referred to by number. One to twenty five; no names. Just faces and locations. The list will be split between teams and you’ll go from there.

So far, only we’ve only been able to verify the locations of one to four. One and two will be handled tomorrow,” he  brings two black and white photographs up on the smart screen. “There are our first two marks. One and two. Tyler will be in charge of taking them out and I think it’s only fair he gets the first shot. Every morning at nine am, one and two exit their respective residences on the twelfth floor of the Grand Hyatt. Tyler will enter the elevator on the fourteen floor. I’ll have my own eyes inside the elevator, but I will  take out the hotel’s security cameras in the elevator and on floors eight to fourteen.  The only problem is that I can only have them down for three minutes before the hotel backups kick in. So Tyler has those three minutes to enter the elevator, wait for one and two to board, carry out the job, and then get off somewhere before the eighth floor. He’ll exit the hotel down the south stairwell, which doesn’t have security cameras.. Once he’s on the stairs, he’s safe to move at his own speed. But between the time he gets on the elevator and gets off it, he has three minutes. That’s it.”

“Three minutes is not a lot of time,” Koen remarks.

“About two minutes more than I need,” Tyler says. “Why are you sorry about what I’m doing?”

“Well someone has to worry about you. You obviously don’t give a shit about yourself.  And neither do any of these people enabling you and your bullshit. Makes no sense that you’re the one working alone.”

“Wish I was working alone.”  Nathan speaks up. “No offence, Anil.  But I’ve been working alone since Nik hired me and all of a sudden I have to team up with someone? Gonna be a hard adjustment.”

“I am more than capable of being out there by myself,” Tyler informs Koen. “It’s how I’ve always done it.”

“Didn’t work so well for you in Bangladesh, did it.”

Tyler scowls. “We are NOT bringing Dhaka into this. Up until Mahajan fucked me and Saju killed almost my entire team and tried to kill me to get Ovi off me, everything was fine. Everything went fucking great. And had I not been played, Dhaka wouldn’t have ended the way it did.”

“But it DID end that way,” Koen argues. “And it almost ended permanently for you. And Esme. If you’d had someone with you…”

“I didn’t need someone with me. Were you there?”

“I’m just saying…”

“Were you there? Were you in the apartment when I took out all those hostels? Were you in the forest? Or on the streets? Were you on the bridge? Were you?”

“No. I wasn’t. But…”

“Well I was. I was there. And I did what I had to do. With the resources I had.  So don’t fucking sit there and act like you know how things went. You have no goddamn idea. So get off my ass and worry about what you need to do. This isn’t up for debate. This is the way it’s going to be. Don’t like it, leave.”

“You’re not invincible you know,” Koen informs him. “You think you are. You may think ‘cause you survived that bullet that you can survive anything.   But I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. That your way of thinking is fucked and you need to stop just thinking about yourself and think about your wife and your kids.”

“I’m done,” Tyler pushes his chair away from the table and stands. “I’m not sitting here and listening to your shit. You weren’t there seven years ago. You weren’t the one who took a bullet to your neck.  Don’t sit there like you’re a fucking expert on Dhaka. And don’t you EVER preach to me about how I treat my wife and my kids. Everything I do is for them. Every fucking decision I make is about them and what’s best for them.”

“It’s alright.” Nik attempts to diffuse the situation, wrapping her fingers around Tyler’s wrist and tugging on his arm. “Just sit down and let Yaz finish. There’s no reason to…”

“I don’t need to be there. I know what I’m doing. The rest of you need to figure your shit out. And if any of you don’t like what Anil and I are doing, just leave. I don’t need your shit. I’ve got enough crap on my plate as it is.  The last thing I need is to sit here and listen to people bitch and moan.”

“Let’s just get through this,” Nik suggests. “Let’s just sit down and let Yaz finish and…”

“Let him go,” Koen says. “It’s what he does. He runs. When he doesn’t get his way or he doesn’t like what he’s hearing. He’s good at that. Running.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Alright...alright…” Yaz steps in front of Tyler before he can advance in Koen. “...everyone’s on edge and everyone’s getting a little heated. Take it easy. Let’s walk.”  He drapes his arm across Tyler’s shoulders, leading him out into the hall and letting the door click shut behind them.

“I don’t need to be in there,” Tyler fumes.

“I agree. You know what’s up. You know what you’re doing. Why don’t you go and get something to eat. Or go work out. Go beat the shit out of the heavy bag for an hour or two. Just get your head on straight, that’s all I ask. We need you focused. Head in the game. Got it?”

“I know what the fuck I’m doing, Yaz. I’ve done this before.”

“I know. So go and calm down and do whatever you gotta do to get a handle on this. Because you’re not going to be any good to anyone if you don’t get your shit together.. And your wife and your kids are depending on you to get this done and to get it done right. That’s all that matters. THEY’RE all that matters. Right?”

Tyler sighs heavily, then nods in agreement.

“Go cool down,” Yaz says. “Call home. You and I can sit down and talk about this later. Go on…” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the elevator. “...before I drag you away myself.”

Tyler smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”

“It’s us smaller guys you gotta watch out for. We’re sketchy. Cagey. Haven’t you learned anything from being married to Esme for so long? The little ones are the most dangerous. Now go. Call home. Talk to your wife. Tell your kids a bedtime.  They gotta be missing you. And I know you’re missing them.”

“I’m a fucking weak bastard, aren’t I.”

“Because you love your family? There’s nothing weak about that. It’s being a goddamn human being, Tyler.  Or somewhere along the line did you forget that that’s what you are? You’re not a fucking robot. You FEEL things. If you didn’t, THEN  I’d be worried. You’re not the guy you were back in Dhaka. You’re not even the guy you were six months ago in New Zealand. So go and be human. Call home. Tell your wife you miss her and you love her. Say the same thing to your kids. Because you’re going to damn well regret NOT saying those things if this all goes to shit. And you don’t want that on your conscience.. If something happens them…to any of them...and there’s shit left unsaid, that  will fuck with your head. You’ll never survive that.”

A grin plays on his lips. “When did you get all wise and all knowing? Knock one girl up and suddenly you’ve got all the answers to life’s biggest questions?”

“Believe it or not, most of this I learned from watching you. How you are when you’re away from all of this.  The way you are with Esme and the kids. You’re totally different with them. You’ve found this separation between job you and husband and dad you and that’s fucking admirable. And you can bitch all you want about it makes you soft or that it makes you look weak or pathetic or whatever horseshit you tell yourself, but nothing can be further from the truth.  And if a guy like you can find that..that balance...that kind of peace...it gives the rest of us hope that we can too. And fuck anyone who thinks differently.”

“You’re good for my ego, Yaz.”

“Your ego needs to hear this shit sometimes. Because whether you want to believe it or not, you’re the horrible person you think you are. You think you don’t deserve the life you have. And I get it. WHY you think that. But you’ve got six people at home that love you and need you and want you around. And you do deserve that. So go and get your shit together. Clear your head. Talk to your family. Say the things you need to say. It’ll do you some good.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“You don’t want regrets, man. If shit does go wrong and something happens to you, don’t go out of this world with things left unsaid. Because that’ll be on Esme’s mind for the rest of her life. And that’s not fair to her.”

“This whole life isn’t fair to her.”

“But she chose it. When she stuck around for you. That’s what you keep forgetting. It was her choice to be with you. And nothing you could have done or said, would have changed her mind. You got a great life, Tyler.  You gotta hang onto it. No matter what .”

“That’s why I’m here. So I don’t lose that life. So I don’t lose her. Or any of my kids.”

“Take that into tomorrow. That rage you’re feeling. That need for revenge. You take that into tomorrow and the day after and the day after that? You’re walking away from here. You’re going home. You don’t get your head sorted out, you’ll be going home in a body bag. And that’s not what your family needs. Get your shit together. Go do whatever you have to do to get your head in the game, alright?” Yaz claps him on the shoulder. “Wanna go grab something to eat later? You can give me some daddy advice.”

“Yeah,” Tyler gives a small smile. “I can do that.”

“Although I don’t know if I should take advice from you; you were stupid enough to do it FIVE times.”

“Might be six. Never know.”

“You really are a crazy bastard,” Yaz chuckles, and then playfully shoves him in the direction of the elevator.

[expelliarmus]

I saw that ask meme with questions for gif makers going around, but I felt like answering them all on my own lmao

1. What are your top 3 favorite sets you’ve made

This one, this one (if the timing works lmao), and this one (I’m so proud of my AU gifsets... where did all that creativity go??)

2. What is your least favorite set you’ve made

I honestly don’t know... I don’t think I hate anything I’ve posted though. If I don’t like how it’s turning out, I just won’t post it lol

3. Which of your sets has the most notes

The most notes ever is this one I think

4. A set that flopped but deserved better

I don’t know... there’s a bunch, but I’m fine if a gifset flops

5. What is your favorite movie/TV show to gif

DOCTOR WHO

6. What is your least favorite movie/TV show to gif

I really don’t gif anything else lmao...

7. Who are your top 3 gif makers

I’ll just pick 3 people off the top of my head :) @shatner​, @melodyspond​, @stupidape​

8. What gif trend do you hate

The pale/black and white gifs that are so hard to see.......

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs

I wanted to gif my favourite parts of DW that I didn’t see anyone else doing, so I was like alrighty, time to learn how to do this!! I think the people that inspired me are long gone from tumblr, or I’m no longer following them because they’ve moved blogs (Natasha aka lumos-maxima... wherever you are, I MISS YOU... also Courtney aka needlebug I MISS YOU TOO)

10. What was the first gif you ever posted

THIS ONE! I remember being so happy about posting it, haha. Also, I still love that Confidential episode so much. I miss my space hipsters...

11. What is that one set you made that just won’t die

The Zoboomafoo one

12. What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever giffed

Everything I’ve ever posted

13. Where or from whom did you learn how to gif

Various tutorials on here and just by experimenting. I don’t even think I used Photoshop to begin with, since back in my Neopets days I used Paint Shop Pro to make graphics so I think that’s what I used first to try making gifs of videos.

14. How long does it usually take you to make a set

45 minutes to an hour or so?? It’s been taking longer and longer because the screencaps are so huge though and my poor laptop can’t handle it.

15. Have you ever had gifs stolen and reposted

Yes, and don’t think that I can’t tell when those are my gifs, even without a watermark!!

16. How long have you been making gifs

Since 2011...... my god

17. 10 sets, 8 sets, 6 sets? How many gifs to you prefer in a set

As many as it takes!!!!! But usually between 6-8

18. For the aesthetic, for the laughs, or for the feels what your preference

For FUN!

19. What is your gifting process like

Open video, find scene, screencap, load screencaps in Photoshop, resize to gif dimensions, add colouring, curse myself for picking a hard-to-colour scene, continue adjusting colouring and become increasingly frustrated because it’s not turning out the way I want it to, give up, add text, save gif, POST!

20. Mac or PC

PC

21. PSDs or original coloring for each gif

Original colouring. PSD who???

22. What fandom/movie/show/person etc do you gif the most

DOCTOR WHO and more specifically, David Tennant... I think his tag has the most :’)

23. What is the thing you gif when you don’t have anything else you want to gif

Any episode with Ten and Donna, or The Eleventh Hour, or the Day of the Doctor, or Blink

24. 480p 720p 1080p? What is the minimum quality you’ll gif from

I used to be all good with giffing 480p back in the day, but I guess now it’s 720p since the gif limits have gone way up.

25. Old dimensions or new dimensions and why

New dimensions because they look nicer on the dashboard.

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now

ZERO.

27. Have you ever made a set, decided you hated it and deleted it? What was it

Probably at least one or twice, but I don’t remember.

28. Have you ever posted a set, regretted it and immediately deleted it

No, I don’t think so. I’m leaving my mistakes there for all to see!

29. Have you ever posted a set, realized you made a mistake later but it was already too late

Yes, I did this just the other day with that Missy, Bill and Nardole set. I got the dialogue slightly wrong lmao..... shh

30. How frequently do you like to post

I try to do at least one gifset a day if I can!

31. Do you schedule/queue posts or do you post right after you’re done

Right away. These gifsets are fresh off the grill.

32. What is your favorite tool/adjustment layer in Photoshop

Selective Color or Color Balance

33. Do you like to/can you make edits and graphics too or only gifs

Yes, I can do both but gifs are way more fun imo

34. A set that took you a long time/was really hard but you’re really proud of how it came out

I’m gonna say this one again because I was so proud of it when I made it, and I can’t believe I used to put that much effort into my gifs.

35. Do you change your giffing style a lot or do you have a set routine

I have a routine, as described above. My gifs are pretty much all made the same way as I describe in my colouring tutorial too.

36. Do you gif with something specific in mind or do you just wing it

Usually a mixture of both. I like to try to gif a different Doctor each day, so I’ll know who I have in mind but I’m not planning on a specific episode. I’ll just open up one of their series and go from there!

37. What sets if any do you have planned to make in the future

Idk, I was thinking of doing yet another gifset with Donna in it since I just finished her Big Finish series... but maybe I’ll do one with Eleven and the Ponds??? We’ll see.

38. What are you really excited to gif that isn’t out yet

The next Doctor Who holiday special?? :D

39. How often, if ever, do you delete old sets that you don’t like anymore

Never!! I love seeing how my gifs have slowly changed and improved over time.

40. Why do you make gifs

Because it’s fun, and it’s a way for me to relax after a long and busy day at work.

41. What is your least favorite part about your gif making process

When it takes forever for my screencaps to load, and when it takes forever for my gifs to save sometimes

42. How is your gif folder organized? Is it organized at all?

Lol nope.

43. Do you keep videos forever or delete them once you’re done giffing

I keep the episodes forever, but honestly I think I keep everything forever because I forget about getting rid of the other stuff like trailers and interviews... I should go through my downloads folder.

44. Ever had a gif become a meme? Would you like that if you haven't

I’ve had people use my gifs as reaction gifs and it is a weird feeling, especially seeing the gifs being used on websites other than tumblr. I remember seeing one of my gifs used in someone’s book review on Goodreads and I was like “WAIT THAT LOOKS FAMILIAR!!”

45. Ever gotten hate over a set

Not really hate, but I do get a lot people that are like “WHERE IS ______?” in their tags. And sometimes I just want to be like “Make your own gifs if you think they should be there!!!”

46. Ever gotten a really sweet compliment over a set

Yes :’)

47. Any advice for novice gif makers/people who want to start making gifs

Don’t give up!! Make gifs of whatever makes you happy, don’t worry about the notes too much, and use your tags! KEEP PRACTICING!

48. How would you describe your giffing style

I don’t know??? If someone else has a way to describe my style, then please let me know haha

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing

It’s been almost 9 years since I’ve started, so I hope I’ve improved quite a bit! :P

Well, that was fun. Congrats on making it to the end of this post!!! Now I will go make a gifset.

[thegardenandthegrave]

My Independent Publisher Roadmap:

[Image Description: Indie Street Marketing branded infographic (red and black text and an empty road in the background). There are five slightly transparent gray boxes in the foreground that contain the five stages of publication as determined by indiestreetmarketing.mn.co. All content in the infographic is also provided in the following text. End.]

for @reshiramgirl88​

Oh god, I’m sorry this is so long. Worth the read though, I promise!

Five Stage Publication:

Stage 1 - Drafting

[Image Description: This is where the magic begins, where you start off with brainstorming and outlining and writing. This is the NaNoWriMo stage, the 'let me rant about my WIP' stage. This stage ends with two very important elements. The first is a completed first draft manuscript and the second is an Ideal Customer Profile]

So this is the stage that a lot of writers get stuck in. It’s the quicksand sinkhole of starting over with a new project. There’s nothing wrong with living in this stage, but if you want to actually publish a novel worth reading you have to have two things:

1. A Book.

2. An Audience.

One of my favorite quotes is:

“You can always edit a bad page. You can't edit a blank page.”

― Jodi Picoult

You have to have a book in order to publish and sell a book. This is the hard part for a lot of authors, the part that they get bogged down by for years and years trying to make their debut novel some perfect specimen of literature.

Guys, my friends, my fellow authors; do not allow yourself to be bogged down by the weight of perfectionism that accompanies years of reading ‘the greats’ and thinking you’ll never be one of them. A favorite line of mine from Charles Bukowski goes:

“ don't be like so many writers, don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. don't add to that. don't do it.”

The second part of stage 1, the part that is almost unheard of with writers who are just starting out or plan to publish traditionally, is the ideal customer profile. I’m actually posting a series on the ICP in a few days so I’ll give you a basic rundown and link back to it here when it comes out.

Essentially, your ideal customer profile is a character sheet for the person most likely to enjoy and cherish your work the way it was meant to be enjoyed and cherished. 

It’s important to develop your ICP near the end of stage one because moving on to stage two without it means missing huge opportunities to throw in the little nods and subtle glances that will really thrill your audience.

Stage 2 - Revision

[Image Description: Your revision process may be your own, but the fact remains that you have to have one. For some, it looks like printing out the book and redlining it. For others, it's about re-writing the entire thing. No matter which way you do it, this is where you will put in your foreshadowing and arch phrases. This step CANNOT be skipped.]

I used to write a book and then think it was done.

I used to write a book and then put it into a spell checker and a grammar editor and think it was done.

I used to read through it over and over and over and then ignore it for months as I tried to figure out where the missing part of the story was.

I’m not saying these methods are invalid. I’m just saying that after I learned to pull up a blank document side by side with the original and then write the whole thing out again many of the pains of plotting disappeared and my work moved into the professional arena.

Maybe it was the way I had to focus on the words as I read the story again, or maybe it’s because I’m a chronic underwriter and re-writing gives me a chance to unpack certain lines to expand the story.

I think it might be a little bit because revising is a lot like moving houses. You have to decide what to pack up and what to leave behind, and when you’re done you’re left with a newer, cleaner house and a sense of exhausted accomplishment.

Stage 3 - Editor/Beta Reader

[Image Description: While many writers try to skip from stage 1 to stage 3, others try to skip stage 3 altogether. Don't. Stage 3 is what brings your book into the professional realm and smooths out those rough edges. Feedback from your editor and beta reader may loop you back into stage 2 for another round of revision.]

So my first comment here is directed more towards stage 2 and how important it is.

I’ve beta-read too many books that didn’t go through the revision process. I’ve seen too many authors kill their own work over comments from beta readers that could have been avoided if the author revised their work before placing it into the hands of someone who could hurt them.

The connection between an author and their editor/beta reader is a very emotional one. My editor and I are sharing a hotel room at a writer’s conference in a few weeks. My beta reader is refused to talk to me for a week because of how I left the cliff hanger at the end of the last book.

These two people are your gatekeepers.

Where traditionally published books have agents and publishers to keep the tide of bad writing decisions from seeing the light of day, indie authors have their own poor judgment and a burning desire to see their works in a published form.

Your editor can save your asses (literally, the word was suppose to be assess and I accidentally deleted an S during the final touches stage. My editor caught it before I sold too many copies).

Your beta reader can warn you if your character’s personality changed halfway through or if the room for your final confrontation is a blank white box in their minds because you maybe forgot to describe it every single time your characters were in there before.  

Stage 4 - Final Touches

[Image Description: This is where we clean up our blurb, tag lines, cover, and formatting. Creating auxiliary content for content marketing, and developing a media strategy. At the end of this stage, we push publish (or place the book on pre-order). ]

This is my golden stage.

This is what I’m going to college for and what I plan on building a media and consulting company around. This is something I’m going to be posting a lot about so I won’t say as much here.

If you have questions on stage 4 publications pls send them to my ask box, I am always ready to help with the marketing.

Stage 5 - Continuation

[Image Description: The connection between the reader and the writer is a unique one, and is something that many indie authors tend to neglect. Your readers are people. They need assurances that there is another book coming, someone to yell at for the last cliffhanger, and a place where they can connect to other readers. As a publishing author, it is your job to provide them a way to connect. ]

Continuation is really almost an extension of stage 4. It’s the engagement side of being an author. It’s where the fandom is born.

This is where I think a lot of authors make their last mistake. Those who manage to get themselves to this stage tend to drop the ball because The History Of Authors clearly states that we are ethereal and unknowable creatures who mustn’t interact.

Times are changing, folks. Technology is changing us. We are a social bunch and we want that connection. We want the validation. We want the community.

An author that can give their audience a sense of belonging, who can engage them openly and respectfully, and who can make them feel as though they are remarkable is going to be the author who has the competitive advantage.

tldr: come ask me questions about author marketing.

[bonepranks-a]

. OUT          i’ve been wanting to write extensively about my experience playing undertale/intro to the fandom so... i’m gonna do that. it’s below the cut if u want, it’s very long -- I eventually want to condense it to perhaps share elsewhere, so consider this a first draft.

I don’t consider myself a video game fan. As a kid, my interests were grounded in more “outside” activities, and I was rarely seen without a book in hand. We couldn’t afford gaming consoles, and my parents were vehemently against anything that promoted violence (I wasn’t allowed to go to a laser tag birthday party. Yes, I’m serious.) And that’s what video games were to them, especially my mom. Violent games about shooting and killing people.

As a result, I was very out of the loop when it came to gaming culture. I would watch my friends play Mario Kart at their houses, I think I did Wii Bowling with my grandma once... but other than that? I didn’t know what was going on. I missed the Minecraft craze when I was in middle school. Even mindless iPhone games just didn’t interest me. 

Of course, internet fandom did not escape me. As I got into high school, my interests shifted a lot. When I was more free to use the computer, I practically lived on tumblr (though didn’t we all?). And so even things that weren’t my specific interests were still on my radar. Undertale was..... perhaps the exception to that.

Do you remember those memes that were like “here’s me describing a fandom I only know from my dash”? If you had given me Undetale, I wouldn’t have been able to say anything. (Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure I thought Undertale and Homestuck were the same thing.) “Sans Undertale” was something I had heard before, but I didn’t know who or what that was. Hilarious, in retrospect.

And for context -- when Undertale came out, I was a senior. I wasn’t new to internet fandom, I was very aware. And yet, any knowledge of the game just managed to slip past me somehow. Beyond the fact that it existed, I couldn’t tell you anything. Still though, it seems like Undertale was just... always there. For a lot longer than it really was (again, maybe because I thought it was Homestuck?)

So, we fast forward three years. It’s  I’m a junior in college, it’s November, and I’m RPing over on my Tyrone (Gravity Falls) blog. Saturn picks back up her Chara muse, and suddenly all these Undertale blogs start following me. I try to write with as many of them as I can, but I really don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t like writing with fandoms characters from fandoms I don’t know. (That’s actually why I got into Gravity Falls - a Ford followed me on my Star Trek blog, and the rest os history.) So anyway -- I absolutely fall in love with Chara as a character, and the little bits of the story I know through Saturn. I had heard mixed things about the game itself, even people who enjoyed the characters saying things they didn’t like about it. And eventually, on New Year’s Day, with nothing better to do, I decided to bite the bullet and just play.

Needless to say, I had a difficult time. With no video game experience, dodging attacks in the bullet-hell world of Undertale was nearly impossible. But, luckily for me, I was also.... extremely clueless and unobservant. I do recall finding the Faded Ribbon in the Ruins, but I never figured out how to equip items so I went through a majority of the game wearing only the bandage. And of course, that meant that I fled. From.... everything. Which is a fine way to play if you don’t later need money for healing items. I missed a lot of small things along the way too... it’s frankly embarrassing looking back on it. But because I never figured out how to spare, Toriel gave me quite a bit of trouble. And...... in the end, I killed her. I didn’t mean or want to, but I couldn’t figure out any other way. And I didn’t even feel that bad about it. She had creeped me out a bit, unsettled at how much she wanted to keep me with her.

Onto Snowdin. Everything was fine at first, and I decided I wasn’t going to kill anyone else --  just kept running away. Until I got to Dogamy and Dogaressa. I couldn’t avoid their attacks, and eventually I got my first game over. When my game reloaded, I was..... back in the ruins?

Surprise! I never figured out how Save points worked, either.

I somehow managed to save in the crystalized cheese room without realizing what I was doing. But all my progress after that, I lost. I took some time to really evaluate what I was doing. I had started to finally feel guilty for killing Toriel (I think I tried to call her once, and the “but nobody came” message fucked me up), and so I resolved to fix my mistakes and not kill her this time. 

I went into her battle and decided I was only going to fight her until she had low HP, and then use a different tactic (had I figured out sparing by this point?? I think maybe.... maybe.) But once again, I failed. I killed her AGAIN. And for anyone who’s never experienced that.... she says something very unsettling.

So after that, I reached Flowey again. and uh -- 

Needless to say, I was very freaked out by this point. But I persisted. I moved through the rest of Snowdin with minimal trouble, and went on to Waterfall. Undyne.... was a whole other issue. Dodging her attacks was incredibly difficult. My tiny computer keyboard was just not suited to the rapid precise succession in which I had to press the arrows. So I died... and died.... and died. But, the more I played, the better I got. I looked up the fight mechanics, I knew exactly what I had to do to beat her. I actually made it to the Papyrus phone call, which of course is the end of the battle. But dumbass me, didn’t realize that she catches you again after, and that you can flee again right away. So I start fighting her again. I knew that attacking her instead of sparing makes her attacks easier, so that’s what I did. I actually managed to drain her HP! And then....... she killed me. 

I knew I needed a new tactic. And, having been running from almost all battles.... I barely had any gold. I had one healing item, and that was it. So.... I did what I had previously vowed to never do. I sought out 2 monsters and killed them. Stocked with more gold and more HP, I returned to battle. And finally -- finally -- I escaped all the way to Hotland. 

So, here’s the real kicker about my Undyne battle. By the time I decided to kill more monsters, I had already beaten the battle. If I hadn’t been so oblivious, I wouldn’t have needed to. And yes -- I already had Toriel’s death on my conscience, but deaths with the intent to kill just made me feel even worse. But god, I hated her. I was even willing to kill her. The night before I beat her, I’d been dealing with some personal issues relating to a person I really don’t like. I was determined to take out that anger by beating the shit out of Undyne. I stayed up late fighting her, and the battle made me so anxious that I made myself sick (throwing up and all). I couldn’t get her battle music out of my head. But... I got on the computer the next morning, and did it in one try. I’d finally won. But at what cost? Backtracking to her house revealed... this:

And for the first time, the consequences of my actions, even the smallest ones, started to set in. But it was too late to do anything about it now, so on I went. I killed monsters in Hotland because at this point, there was no point in doing anything else. I remember killing the Royal Guards... I never even learned about their love for each other. As I got to New Home and did the walk through the hallway, hearing the monsters tell the story, I started crying. Now, I’m not a crier normally. Very few things can elicit actual tears from me, but that did. And when I reached Sans in the judgement hall, and he revealed the meaning of EXP and LOVE, I understood. I realized what I had done, and I hated myself for getting this far like this. But again, too late. 

I went on to Asgore, and.... I just couldn’t. His attacks were too strong, I was too weak, I had eaten the pie already, and I still didn’t have enough money to even buy Temmie Armor. I was stuck. His battle was too difficult, and I no longer had the Determination to keep going. I tried to make some strategies, I thought maybe taking some time would help. But a few days turned into a week, and a week turned into two weeks, and eventually I started wondering if I would ever pick it back up again. Finally, I decided that I wanted to right my wrongs. I reset, without finishing my neutral run, and played Pacifist, properly. 

Pacifist runs are the same across the board, so I won’t give you too many details. Well, except the few things the game remembered from before...

Thanks Flowey.

And that was that. I laughed, I cried.... I knew a lot of the twists already, but there were so many wonderful surprises I didn’t know about. I could feel the love the game radiated -- and yes, I do love Undyne now more than almost any character from anything.

So, two months after playing, I’m reflecting on my choices, and what I’ve done since. I feel like I’ve dived into the 2015 fandom, but three years later. It’s odd, discovering such old content for the first time. I’ve introduced a few friends to the game, and though I tried to not backseat game, they asked for help and I readily gave it. But I told from from the get-go: don’t kill anything. My biggest fear was that they would kill monsters by accident, get to the end, but not like the game enough to go back and play the whole thing again. And I was convinced that the true ending is what makes the game so meaningful.

I was wrong.

As much as the ending got to me, I think I needed the experience of my first run -- with all my messy murders and shambling gameplay tactics -- to make the happy ending sink in. Which is what, I believe, was the intention of the game from the beginning. Toby knew that a lot of people would go into the game thinking they had to kill, and by the time they realized otherwise, it would be too late. The game is designed in such a way that playing it twice isn’t entirely tedious, with plenty of hidden gems you only get to find by making difference choices. Feeling your sins crawling on your back, realizing that you’ve been a villain, hearing Papyrus tell you that Undyne’s called you a murderer -- it makes you feel. It gives you an odd attachment to the characters that I don’t think you actually get if you go Pacifist the first time.

And no, I never finished my neutral run. I never was faced with the decision of whether or not to kill Asgore, already having blood (er, dust) on my hands. I never had to decide what to do about killing Flowey either. For an intentional Pacifist run, those questions were no-brainers. I never got to see what my phone call would be like (the Undyne ending is some scary shit from what I can tell). I sort of wish I had. But in the end, I think it says a lot that I literally couldn’t despite being so close.

My friends never got any of that experience. One of them went on to say something like “how could anyone kill people!!! They’re all so nice!! Imagine killing Toriel!! Anyone who does genocide is a terrible person!” And.... well, I know that it’s that kind of logic that gave the fandom such a bad reputation in the early days. And I just don’t agree. Not because I want to justify my actions, but because I really think that you don’t get the full impact of the story and the true ending unless you’ve gotten a “bad” ending first. But again, that’s just my personal experience.

I don’t know if there’s a real moral to this story. All of this was much more eloquent and had a purpose in my head, but writing it.... well, I dunno. I think if you ask most people, they’ll tell you that Undertale came into their lives at a crucial time. Or that it had some sort of big impact on their lives. For me, I find it hard to put into words exactly what it’s done for me. I just know it’s something really special. After all, a video game where you don’t have to kill anyone, where violence is never the answer, and mercy is the point of the story -- that’s the kind of game my mom would’ve let me play as a kid. 

But hey, I’m, preaching to the choir here, aren’t I? We all wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t touched our lives in some way, and I’m not saying anything that hasn’t already been said by people over the years. I’m just -- very very grateful. For the friends, the memories, the experience. And Papyrus, just because. 

[gurubuckaroo]

A Tumblr looks at 50

Tomorrow, the 21st of February, I turn 50 years old.

#what are you going on this hell site #delete your account #go pay taxes or something #hes literally twice the ops age

Go ahead, get it out of your system. Those are all things I’ve had replies to me tagged with. A lot of people think a lot of things about people my age being on Tumblr, and they’re not shy about saying it. If there’s one -ism I’ve learned that’s perfectly acceptable to most Tumblr users, it’s ageism. That doesn’t bother me. The last time I got anonymous hate, I donated to the ACLU on their behalf.

There are a lot of things being old (ugh) means. There are a lot of things it doesn’t mean. I don’t deserve your respect because of my age. It doesn’t make me better, or wiser, or smarter or more educated. It doesn’t make me more interesting.

The only thing I’ve got on you is that I’ve had a lot more time to make mistakes than you have. And boy have I taken advantage of those opportunities.

They say people can’t learn from the mistakes of others - they have to make their own, and only then do they learn the lesson. Well, that may be. Maybe it’s true for my generation but not yours. Maybe if I can prevent just one person from making some of the mistakes I’ve made in my life, this will be worth it.

Stop hating yourself. There are plenty of people out there willing to do it for you. Don’t be like them.

Stop berating your talent. You think your art is bad. Your music is bad. Your cosplay is bad. You know what? Everyone who has ever expressed a talent feels the same way about theirs. If there’s one constant about artists, it’s that they always feel like their own stuff is trash. Stop being your worst critic. Again, plenty of other people out there willing to do that job. You don’t want to be like them, so don’t agree with them.

Drink. Do drugs. Or not. But always in moderation. Moderation in all things - including moderation. Be moderate in your moderation. Although stay away from crack, cocaine, heroin, and anything prescribed - unless it’s your prescription (more on that later). I’ve seen those first three kill far too many friends. Worse, some of those killed are still walking around, pretending to be alive.

If you’re going to do LSD or other hallucinogens, do it with someone you trust who’s done it before. Bad trips happen - but almost always because of something you or your tripmates bring in with them. An experienced tripguide can walk you back out of a bad trip. Never do it alone. It’s almost impossible to have a bad experience on shrooms, but they might give you stomach cramps - if so, make tea out of them instead of eating them.

Take your Brain Pills. If you’ve been prescribed antidepressants or some other psychoactive meds, take them. My first psychologist appointment was when I was 5. I’ve literally fought clinical depression my entire life, to the extent that I was hospitalized for 45 days just before my 18th birthday. It’s not something to be ashamed about any more than having Diabetes or Sickle Cell or Grave’s Disease or Autism. Depression, Schizophrenia, Bipolar, these are all brain diseases, not failings, and taking medication for them is how you treat them. If you’re terrible about remembering whether or not you’ve taken your meds, they sell pill bottles now with caps that show how long it’s been since you opened it last. They’re great for my chronic pain meds. If you can’t afford them, you’ve got a Tumblr - make a draft post and update it every time you take a pill.

Don’t over-rely on safe spaces and trigger warnings. I can hear you now - “Oh here he comes, about to call us all snowflakes or something.” On the contrary. Safe spaces are wonderful. My wife is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and teenage sexual assault. I worked for most of our (so far) 27 year marriage helping her to heal, only to see so much work thrown out because of a well-placed trigger from someone who proudly considers herself a SJW and doesn’t care who she offends.

The mental immune system we build up in our psyche is every bit as important as the biological immune system we build up in our bodies. Excessive trigger warnings are no less damaging than refusing vaccination, and can in some cases be triggering themselves. In both cases, the individual will be perfectly fine living in a sealed bubble, but will be completely unable to survive in the world at large. Like biological defenses, the young brain is the best at developing coping mechanisms. As individuals age, those systems become more difficult, and more traumatic, to develop. I’m not suggesting that there should be no trigger warnings or safe spaces. I am suggesting that, like in all things, moderation is the best course.

Fact-check. Snopes is your friend. Google Reverse Image Search is your friend. You may really want to believe that new rumor from a .info site. It takes 20 seconds to check before you powerslam “reblog.” It could save your reputation. It could save someone else’s. (Oh, and any website ending in .info is trash. That domain costs the least to register, so it’s essentially disposable). And for god’s sake, don’t believe everything Anonymous says. Bryan P. Willman, a part-time police dispatcher, had his life ruined because Anonymous claimed he was the shooter who killed Mike Brown, and half of Tumblr and Facebook reblogged the accusation without pause.

Be yourself. Shakespeare said it - “This above all else: to thine own self be true.” Of course, knowing him, it was probably an elaborate dick joke that I still don’t get. But it’s still true. Capital-T True. Possibly the biggest Truth I’ve ever learned.

See, we all like to have friends. And we start off thinking that the best way to have friends is to be what our friends what us to be. Doesn’t help that we probably don’t really know what our friends want us to be, but that’s beyond the point. The problem starts when we end up feeling like we’re being drawn and quartered - because we are trying to be all things to all people. God help young people today who have potentially hundreds of friends through Tumblr or such - they’re trying to be perfect in the eyes of too many observers. Throw social forces into this, and we start to try to be perfect to entire movements. It cannot be done.

There’s another perfect truth we have to realize. It’s simple and absolute: People are jerks. Not all the time, and not to everyone! But we are. And here’s why: We’re all individuals. At some time, we’re going to rub someone the wrong way. And if we’re trying to be exactly what everyone else wants us to be, we’ll end up being jerks to everyone. If we’re true to ourselves, we’ll only be jerks to those who just naturally deserve it. Because we aren’t trying to be perfect for the wrong people.

Be yourself. First and foremost. Be the best yourself you can be, but be it because you are it, not because someone else wants you to be it. Let’s face it, other people quite probably don’t have your best interests at heart. If being yourself means that you don’t fit well with a few people, that’s OK - because it means you will fit better with some others.

When you first met the people you call friends, you probably acted like yourself. Because you didn’t know what they wanted yet. Imagine how much more they’ll like you when you go back to being that person they first met, rather than being a mirror.

Regrets are OK. Self-recrimination is not. There are so many decisions I’ve made in my past that I regret. One decision I made I will never be content with, even though I know (then and now) it was the correct action. My regret from that is purely for my own lost chance. Every once in a while I look back through hindsight and say “well maybe it would have been OK to make the other choice”, but I know I’m lying to myself. I just end up wallowing in self-pity over having lost the experience. Don’t be like me. I’m still trying to learn this one. It’s possible I never will.

You will hurt people. Don’t be afraid to apologize.  Some of my actions ended up hurting people - some accidentally, some deliberately, some through sheer childishness. I’ve managed to apologize to most of the people I’ve hurt. A few have left this world before I got the chance, or the courage, to face my own failings. And in almost every case, it was my own failing that hurt them. Growth comes when we recognize our own failings, and learn to overcome them. And if we’re going to grow, we’ll need a good ecosystem - and that means friends, who may be hurting because of what we did.

Life is too short to spend with toxic people. There can be a case made that you become an “adult” when you no longer need to tolerate toxic people. This is especially the case regarding parents. I first cut my father out of my life (to my mother’s delight) when I was 11 and refused to come visit him over the holidays. Later we attempted a reconciliation - that experiment lasted 3 terrible years. Since then, I’ve exchanged maybe an hour’s worth of words with him, over three in-person visits and a few phone calls. I doubt I’ll attend his funeral, should he ever get his shit together enough to die.

Unfortunately, there will always be times when you have to tolerate toxicity. Usually at the workplace. The really nasty stuff can often be abated (but not always cured) with a trip to Human Resources - but not always. At least, not yet. Things in the workplace are better now than they’ve ever been, regarding this at least. One can only hope the trend continues.

Life is an experience. Don’t be afraid of it. Imagine yourself on a roller coaster. You’re locked into the car, and slowly it starts climbing the first hill - clack clack clack - and the ground is falling away, and ahead you see the turn. Excitement builds. You crest the hill - and pull quietly into the station. Oh boy, can’t wait to try that again, right? Life exists in the dips, the valleys, the turns and rolls.

Every day you keep pushing through, every day that you groan and pull yourself out of bed anyway, every day you curse while tying your shoes, pulls you kicking and screaming through life. I’m not going to promise you it’ll put you one day closer to your dream job, or one day closer to happiness, or contentment, or whatever. Life isn’t about reaching a goal. It’s an experience. And every day you keep moving, you get to keep having that experience - the highs and the lows. And the highs make the lows so very much worth it.

If you’re still hung up on my age, and think someone my age doesn’t belong on Tumblr, tell me - at what age are you going to give up your fandoms and delete your account?

[yourhelpfulaffiliate]

How to Write a Blog Post (For Beginners)

Writing a blog post is a modern skill that everyone can benefit from learning. If you are new to writing blog posts, do not stress: the following is a simple guide for beginners that will help you learn the basics about writing your own blog.

Blog Essentials: What to Know Before You Write

Before you start typing away at the keyboard, make sure you know some key essentials. Taking this step will help you get on track before you begin to write your blog. Take Notes

Get a notebook to keep track of all of your blog's information. As you Come up with answers for the following questions this is where you should write them down. You can also use a note-taking app on your phone or computer. What is important is that you keep track of the focus of your blog. Topic

What is the topic of the blog? Is it something you came up with on your own or were assigned by a marketing director, manager, etc.? The topic might be broad or it might be niche, depending on the nature of your blog. Your blog title should be under 60 characters and clearly say what your post will be about. Requirements and Research

What are the requirements of your blog, and how much research will you need to do? The more requirements, the more likely it is that you will have to do some research on either the topic or some of the requirements (such as needing to use certain tags or writing styles). If you need to do research, get it done before you start writing. Looking into the topic you are writing about beforehand is a great way to write better content. There are many ways to do your research. I like to use tools like Google and YouTube to learn more about my blog topics. As you research you should note what other people are asking about this topic and include answers to those questions in your post. Audience

Who is the audience of your blog? In other words, who are you writing for? The audience can help determine the overall style, tone, and feel of your blog post. For instance, a blog post about cat health that is written for a professional veterinary audience will sound very different than a blog post about cat health is written for regular pet owners. Thinking about who will read your blog can help you figure out what to include in the post itself. What do these people want or need to know about this topic? How can you present this information in a way best suited for them? Length

Do you have a certain length in mind for your blog post? For the most part, blog posts should be long enough so that they are informative but not so long that people get bored. Most bloggers stick to word counts of 300 to 500 words for regular posts, with longer content (often called "long-form") reserved for less frequent posts. I personally try to make my blog posts as long as possible. This way I am able to include much more helpful information for my readers. I also like to dive very deep into my research which makes it easier to write longer blog posts. Your first blog post may not be very long. My first blog post was about 150 words. What is important is that you sit down and write it and then you do it again and again and again. As you become more accustomed to writing blog posts frequently you will get better at writing them, in length and in formating. Formatting and Photos

Finally, how will you format your blog and will you supplement your post with photos or images? If you are using images, make sure that you are allowed to use them; there are millions of public domain and copyright-free images online, so you should not have any trouble sticking to this rule. I find my images using an app called Pixabay. You can find tons of free to use images on the Pixabay app or by visiting Pixabay.com. Adding photos to your blog post helps break up the text giving your reader's eyes a break and it is just prettier. Make sure to use pictures that relate to what you are writing about. Random photos spread throughout your blog posts will not look very good. If you can take pictures yourself to add to your blog posts I think this is a great option. Many people use the free images offered by services like Pixabay so if you have unique photos on your blog it will help you stand out.

Writing Your Blog Post: Basic Tips

Now that you are prepared to write your blog, take a look at these simple yet effective tips for the actual writing process. Write an outline of your post

Always write an outline of your blog post! This will make it much easier (and quicker) to write since you will be able to follow your outline as you write. I create my outlines right on my blog editor. First I come up with a title, then 5 or 6 subheadings. Then I see if there are any sub-sub headings I could add. As I am doing this I add small notes under each subheading to paint a picture of what I will write later. Once all that is done I write the whole blog post in one sitting without editing. This helps me keep my flow and prevents writer's block. I spend my time editing in the next step. Read your draft out loud

After you are done with your draft, read it out loud. Make edits where necessary. I also find when I am doing this step there are things I had left out. This is a great time to add a little more content to your blog post. You can also use a computer program to have it read out loud for you. This will help you catch unnoticed grammar and spelling mistakes, along with any odd phrases or other elements you need to change. I am a BIG fan of this technique. I have dyslexia so finding mistakes in my writing has always been a struggle. Using tech aids like voice to text and text to speech save me SO MUCH TIME! Post!

Once you are happy with your writing, then it is time to hit publish and post your first blog post! For best results, you should post during a high-traffic time of day. Good luck! At times this can seem like the hardest part. It is kind of funny. Before you write your blog post you can get very stressed and in your head about it, but once you start and you find your flow it becomes very easy. Then, after you have faced your fear and written the post you become nervous about posting it. This "fear" finds me every 3 months or so. I just get locked up on publishing. I worry my posts are not good enough or I have forgotten to add something. Push through this! You can always go back and edit or change your blog post in the future, but if you never publish it you will be stopping it from helping others. You got this. Write that blog post. Check it and edit it. Add photos to it and share it with the world. Best up luck!

Need more help in getting started?

I tried to make money online by myself for the last 5 years with little success. At that time I saw many gurus and coaches offering there teaching on the next big way to make fast money online. I have come to the conclusion that there is no easy way, but there is a correct way. This year I signed up for a course that takes me step by step through creating a blog website that will replace my current income within the next 24 months. This is not a get rich quick scheme. This is Project 24. Project 24 was created by Jim and Ricky from the YouTube channel Income School. They have created many highly profitable blog websites and are now teaching people just like you and me how to do the same thing. I strongly believe this is the best course out there for people who can do the work to create an income from a blog. Some times people fail because they do not do the work. Some times people fail because they do not know what to do. This course solves only the 2nd problem, the rest is up to you. If you would like to learn more about Project 24 and how it can help you create passive income from a blog website check out some of the blog post links below. https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/what-the-heck-is-project-24-the-best-make-money-online-course-ive-ever-found/ https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/project-24-what-you-should-know-before-you-sign-up/ https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/income-schools-project24-day-1/ https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/is-income-schools-project-24-worth-it/ Read the full article

[stimtoybox]

Member Applications!

After thinking, experimenting and much hair-pulling (not figuratively or metaphorically) I have come to the obvious conclusion that this blog is too much for one disabled person to handle. Part of being multiply disabled is the two-for-one package of knowing first hand why accessibility is important and having decreased ability to practice it, so I need to bring on a team who can help me do this and bring you all a better blog, since my chronic pain is getting in the way of allowing me to do all this and anything else.

I’m after two or three people who can help me with taking the many wonderful stim toy posts floating around Tumblr and can add the resource information that means other people have to do the least amount of scrolling, clicking or researching: image descriptions, direct links to the product in question, prices, alternate sellers, archival tags (I’ll post on how I do this), any seller or product advisory notes. I’d like at least two people to share the workload - so that this becomes something done a few hours a week, not an every day job. I try to run on a queue with a buffer of a few weeks, so there is no requirement to be on Tumblr every day to do this.

This should allow me more spoons for messages, HTML coding the tags pages, asks and my own reviews and tutorials.

Because I am not particularly good at shared projects and because this sort of thing is so far outside my comfort level it’s laughable, please understand that I won’t be granting admin status until I’m more comfortable with this as a shared blog. At this stage, I’d be posting private lists of posts to be formatted and queued and leaving you to post those to the queue, or asking you to save anything cool you find to draft which I can then add to the list.

If this interests you, please check below the read more cut for more information on the kind of people I’m looking for and how to apply:

The Non-Negotiable Mod Attributes List

Adulthood. (Tumblr users over the age of eighteen.) This is because I don’t show my follower list and do allow NSFW blogs to follow me if they don’t practice certain kinds of kink and refrain from interaction. (My belief is that knowledge should be accessible for everyone.) I cannot allow a minor to have access to the activity page.

A willingness to be exposed to NSFW blog titles and avatars on the activity page. I only ask that people who engage in kinks that mirror non-consent and cg/l-type blogs (basically: things that trigger me) don’t follow, which means that active kink and gore blogs who abide by my no-interaction rule do follow me. Again, I don’t want to restrict knowledge.

(While I have a list of people I’d prefer not to follow me, I only actively block, in addition to the above who ignore my right to consent, spammers, individuals I know to be unsafe for the community for various reasons and a few notorious discoursers. I will always listen to you on the matter of blocking someone who is unsafe for you, but I want it to be plain that the activity page is not a safe space.)

Neurodiversity. This place is for ND people and about ND people, and I’d like it to remain run by ND people. You absolutely do not have to be autistic.

People who aren’t REGs/TERFs/exclusionists. This is for my comfort, as a pan aro-ace agender/trans person. It breaks my heart that I must mention this on a stim toy information blog, but discourse’s roots reach everywhere, and I really don’t want to have to develop a relationship with someone knowing we have such wildly differing beliefs on something that hurts me.

(If you blog on a platform of hate for another group, even if said group isn’t mentioned above, I kindly ask that you don’t apply.)

A no-gatekeeping attitude as to which ND people can stim or which ND people should be prioritised in stimming. I’m deeply uncomfortable with conversations on who can’t use the word “stim” or arguments that autistics should be centred in stim spaces. I hope this space is more about unity among stimmers than divisiveness, and I’d like to keep on working to make this so.

Awareness of accessibility. I want this space to serve as many stimmers as possible, and that includes otherwise-disabled stimmers who have difficulty accessing or interacting with information. I absolutely do not know myself all I should about this: I’m just asking for an ability to keep learning.

Reasonable English expression. I would prefer capital letters to begin a sentence, basic punctuation and some sense of when to paragraph. This is also for accessibility: I struggle to read text without capital letters beginning sentences, can’t read all-bolded text and can’t parse long block paragraphs.

(Perfect adherence to English style conventions is often ableist, racist and classist, but some adherence in communication makes it easier for people to derive information without struggle.)

A willingness to check the tags pages for already-used tags before tagging, hunt down direct links and check listings for shipping information, further item details or purchasing information. I spend a lot of time doing this. I’m trying to make the informative posts on this blog contain the basic information people need with a minimum of clicking or searching in the most accessible possible way.

An interest in stim toys. You don’t have to know much about them, because I didn’t before starting this blog, but please have an interest in stim toys and stimming!

Optional Mod Attributes

I’d like to have a North American mod and a European or UK mod at least, if possible, as this broadens our knowledge base.

Queue Wrangler Duties

The addition of image descriptions, links, product details, additional source information and archival tags to posts on my list before adding them to the queue.

Observation of any accessibility/advisory issues about a listing or tutorial - no alt text (I check images using Firebug on Firefox, but that requires the ability to read basic HTML), no captions/descriptions, sound of video, holes that merit a trypophobia tag, etc. I don’t do this perfectly myself and don’t expect perfection from you, but the attempt is awesome.

(If you can’t do or observe certain things because disability, that isn’t a problem.)

The saving of posts to the draft folder – if you happen across something that can be informative with a little work, save it to the draft folder. If you find a great video, a post somewhere not Tumblr, a tutorial, a new store? Anything you think is new, approaches something old in a new way or just too awesome not to share? Save it to the draft folder. I truly want you to help out in finding cool things!

(I ask you to draft it because that way if someone else spotted it, we don’t double-up. My job is to keep track of what’s been posted already, and I can easily delete anything added twice.)

If you happen across a giveaway, sale or other time-sensitive post and have checked the blog to make sure someone else hasn’t tackled it already, please add a description and anything else informative and tag and post it immediately. The sooner these go up, the better, so I’d be very glad for you to post these as you see them.

Patience with me. You’re dealing with a perfectionistic, possessive writer and blogger who fell into this strange thing of having a community blog and is woefully unprepared for it. I’m learning all this on the fly and I’m probably going to make more mistakes than you ever will.

Please note that I do prefer some post formatting ability (for example, in-text hyperlinks, not pasted URLs). This might be extremely nitpicky, but I’m an editor and text designer myself. Neat text makes my soul happy.

Additional

Please write and queue your own reviews, informative posts and tutorials! If you want my watermark so it looks official, it’s yours. If you’d rather post to your own blog and reblog it here, that’s also awesome. I’d very much like to have your thoughts about stim toys made accessible to our followers, so please join in on talking about toys.

I’d also like a bio and any links pertinent to you that we can add to a team page on the sidebar.

If you have a store, an art blog, a book, a website, anything SFW that we can promote to thank you for your work, we’ll post it. I’m sure our lovely followers won’t mind a few non-toy Promotional Sunday posts in return for your efforts here.

Interested?

Send me a submission (it will not be posted) from your main/primary blog answering the following questions:

User name:

Include that of your secondary blog, too, if you think I’ll better know you that way. If you want to be known a certain way, mention this, too.

(Please do this. I know your primary blog user name is already attached to the submission. Write it out for me again anyway.)

Age:

This can be general: mid 20s, 50+. Just indicate to me in some way that you’re not a minor.

Nationality/region:

Tell me where you’re living. You absolutely do not have to give away identifying information.

About:

Tell me about yourself in a paragraph or two - anything you think I need to know or should know. Pronouns, neurodiversity, why you like stim toys, why you think you’ve got patience enough to deal with me, what you had for breakfast, what makes you happy, your special interests/hyperfixations, what you do at school or work, why you want to help out a stim toy blog. Anything. This lets me get to know you a little better!

Show me your work:

Link me to a post containing an image description (anything; it doesn’t have to be a stim toy) written by you so I can see how you do it.

Content restrictions:

Do you have any content you cannot, should not or would not interact with? GIFs, loud videos, moving anything, items with holes, images including hands... Listing these things means that I don’t hand you a list of videos when you can’t hear them or a list of GIF posts when GIFs give you seizures. Inform me so I can better help you, please.

Anything else:

If there’s anything else about you that you think I should know, tell me.

Applications will be open until midnight April 26 AEST (Australian Eastern Standard Time) or GMT+10.

Thank you, my followers, for all you’ve done to help me out. I truly appreciate it.

[justforbooks]

Min Jin Lee on the Road to Free Food for Millionaires

I had already failed at two novel manuscripts. Publishers had rejected my first manuscript, and I rejected the second, because it was not good enough to send out. I was 32 years old and beginning my third novel.

I had been trying to get a novel published since 1995, the year I quit being a lawyer. Since high school, I’d had a chronic liver disease, and I couldn’t work the hours of a Manhattan law firm without getting ill, so I thought I’d write fiction. My husband Christopher had a steady job with health insurance, but we had gotten our apartment and mortgage with two incomes in mind. Money was tight. After a miscarriage and a difficult pregnancy, our son Sam was born, and that same year, we learned that beloved family members, who could no longer support themselves, were awash in catastrophic debt, and suddenly, we were responsible for another household.

It is never a financially prudent idea to be a fiction writer, but I had not anticipated running through my savings in a year, being unable to earn even a modest living, not being able to afford part-time childcare to write, having a debilitating liver disease, and taking on the debts of people I love.

I was ashamed. After six years, I had not yet written a published novel, and I was broke from the choices I had made. I wondered how we’d pay all these bills, send Sam to college, and save for retirement. When my friends asked me to lunch, I made excuses because I could not afford the luxury of eating out. I could not answer when they asked kindly when my book would be available to purchase. I hid my failure by staying home.

From the moment I quit lawyering, I tried to learn how to write good fiction. I had written and published personal essays in high school. I was a history major in college, but for pleasure, I’d taken three writing classes in the English department. To my surprise, in my junior and senior years, I won top writing prizes for nonfiction and fiction, respectively. It’s possible that the college prizes misled me to believe that I could publish a novel immediately after quitting the law. However, the more I studied fiction, the more I realized that writing novels required rigorous discipline and mastery, no different than the study of engineering or classical sculpture. I wanted to get formal training. Nevertheless, after having paid for law school, I could not hazard the cost of an MFA. So, I fumbled around and made up my own writing program.

Always a reader of the 19th-century greats, I read more widely. I read every fine novel and short story I could find, and I studied the ones that were truly exceptional. If I saw a beautifully wrought paragraph, say from Julia Glass’s Three Junes, I would transcribe it in a marble notebook. Then, I would sit and read her elegant sentences, seemingly pinned to my flimsy notebook like a rare butterfly on cheap muslin. Craft strengthened the feelings and thoughts of the writer. When I read and reread Junot Díaz’s stories in Drown, I was struck by his courage and genius. His perfect narrative voice matched the intricacy and greatness of his plot architecture. Great fiction required not just lovely words or fine feelings, it demanded emotion, structure, ideals, and bravery. Fine works of fiction made me feel glad, the way I feel glad when I see a painting by a master, an ocean at dusk, or the face of a child.

In New York, it is possible to study with great writers for very little money. If one can afford to live here, there is a shock of riches in culture, so much so that artists work for almost nothing. Once a week, when Christopher could watch Sam after work, I took a turkey sandwich in a baggie or a carton of hummus and went to my writing classes or met with my writers’ group. For less than $200, I was able to study for several weeks with Lan Samantha Chang, Rahna Reiko Rizzuto, and Jhumpa Lahiri at the Asian American Writers’ Workshop early on in their careers. I took a class at the Gotham Writers Workshop with Wesley Gibson. For about the same amount and for a season’s length of classes, I studied with Jonathan Levi, Joyce Johnson, Joseph Caldwell, Joan Silber, Shirley Hazzard, and Nahid Rachlin at the 92nd Street Y. The Y runs a famous preschool, and in the evenings, grown men and women sat in these preschool classrooms, smelling of tempera paints and box apple juice, anxious to know if their stories made any sense. Teachers generously encouraged me to continue, but privately, I wondered if I should quit. I was getting older, and I was afraid that I could not return to a steady profession.

The year after Sam was born, impulsively, I applied for a spot at the Sewanee Writers’ Conference and was accepted. The tuition was more money than we could spare, something like $1,000. However, I knew it was difficult to get a spot at all, and I felt I had to go. I had nursed Sam for a year, and I thought this might be a good reward for having given up my body—or so it seemed to me—for the pregnancies, the illnesses, and the breastfeeding. Christopher took time off from work and stayed with Sam, and I went to Tennessee. For nine days, I studied fiction with Alice McDermott and Rick Moody. Each day, after my class, I would go back to my dorm room and cry because I missed my baby.

At Sewanee, it felt like everyone had gone to prestigious MFA writing programs like Iowa and had book contracts. Back then, conference attendees wore name tags, and mine read just my name, indicating that I had not received any scholarship money to defray the cost of the conference tuition. One day, during lunch, I met a young woman whose name tag stated her name plus the name of her fellowship. She hadn’t paid any tuition because her publications had merited her a scholarship. There was a group of us at the table, most of whom had scholarships, and the young woman casually mocked the housewives who had paid full freight to attend the conference. I didn’t realize at first, but she was talking about me. That summer, I was 30 years old, a new mother, and I learned that a talented young woman artist held housewife writers in contempt. I couldn’t eat so I returned to my room. I avoided her for the rest of the conference, because I sensed she was right. It had been a mistake to come all this way to take a class. Then at the end of the conference, Alice McDermott nominated my workshop story for an anthology called Best New American Voices 2000, and though the editors didn’t take my piece, I thought that maybe I could keep trying.

Then something else good happened a few months later. I got an Artist Fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts in the category of fiction. It was for $7,000. I used some of that money to pay for a five-day writing class in California with the famous editor and writer Tom Jenks and the novelist Carol Edgarian. To improve my understanding of the sentence, I began to read poetry. I took a class at the Y with David Yezzi to learn prosody, and it changed the way I looked at every word. Whenever the poetry critic Helen Vendler came to the Y to give one of her seminars, I did whatever I could to attend.

There was so much to learn and practice, but I began to see the prose in verse and the verse in prose. Patterns surfaced in poems, stories, and plays. There was music in sentences and paragraphs. I could hear the silences in a sentence. All this schooling was like getting x-ray vision and animal-like hearing. I had no way to prove objectively the things I was learning, and I can’t tell you why I thought my self-curated education correct, but I followed the steps I could afford to take and somehow trusted that I would learn how to write something fine.

When I ran out of money for classes, I went to readings and bought hardcover books I could not afford. At the bookstore or library, I’d sit all the way in the back. If there was a Q&A, I would have half a dozen questions forming a lump in my throat, but I wouldn’t voice a word. I went to the readings of Herman Wouk, Marilynne Robinson, Junot Díaz, Joyce Carol Oates, Gary Shteyngart, Julian Barnes, Richard Ford, Jay McInerney, Chang-rae Lee, Veronica Chambers, Ian McEwan, Joan Didion, Susanna Moore, Shirley Hazzard, James Salter, Kazuo Ishiguro, Toni Morrison, Rick Moody, Susan Minot, and many more. I wanted to know: How did you do that? How did you send me into this whole other world of your creation? How did you make me feel these new and old feelings? How did you keep trusting that it was all worthwhile? And yet, I could barely form an audible sentence around them, but I suppose I didn’t have to, because I had their work, and their work spoke to me and stayed with me in a private way without me having to prove anything to them or them to me.

As a habit, I read on the subway. One day, I was finishing V.S. Naipaul’s A House for Mr. Biswas on the 2 train, and I burst into tears, amazed at the magnificence of Naipaul’s literary achievement. I knew of his politically controversial attitudes (e.g., he thought women writers were unimportant), and yet I understood that in this work, this man had done something extraordinary with fiction. Through characterization and sympathy, Naipaul had made me care deeply for a humble and curious character, who so clumsily yet so vitally struggled for his wishes. Later, I learned that Arwacas, the fictional setting of the novel, was based on Chaguanas, an immigrant town where East Indian-Trinidadians live and where Naipaul had grown up. Naipaul gave me permission to write about Elmhurst, my town in Queens.

After the classes, the readings, the discarded drafts, I started to research my novel like I was a journalist. When I wanted to learn more about my character Ted Kim, the investment banker, I interviewed several men who went to Harvard Business School. One of them told me that I should pretend to apply, because one had to see a school like that to believe it. So I did. I logged into the website, and I filled out a visitor’s form, and I was able to come in for a day.

I sat in on a class. There were maybe 25 students, and each person had a name card in front of him or her. It was impossible to hide in that room; however, what was clear to me was that no one was hiding. It wasn’t like any class I had ever attended in high school, college, or even law school. I don’t know if everyone in that room had done his homework or if she understood the lecture and the complicated spreadsheet on the whiteboard, but I learned something about these attractive young people. I surmise that what distinguishes a Harvard Business School student is his confidence in his abilities. I have never been in a building so filled with young people who look like they can do anything and want to solve very difficult problems. After a few hours, I started thinking that maybe I should apply for business school because the energy was so buoyant. If anyone was depressed or anxious or doubtful, I think he or she must have stayed home that day. No, I did not apply to HBS, but that day changed me, because I started to value research, not for the details or the velvet scraps of dialogue, but for the feelings that new information made me have. I felt confident just by being with other highly energetic people. I wondered what it would be like to have two years of that atmosphere when even I, an applicant pretender and a writer with no book, felt that positive after mere hours. So I took that feeling and gave it to Ted, a man who believes that he is right even when he is troubled or afraid. Ted’s convictions propel him to great economic success. However, even his convictions are weakened in the presence of sexual desire and a secret yearning for a kindred person. Ted is not good, but research allowed me to recognize his vulnerability, which allowed me to love Ted in his totality.

Then something wonderful happened. The Missouri Review published a story I’d rewritten 17 or 18 times. I had a Bankers Box filled with just drafts of that one story. Maybe that’s what it took.

Not much after that, my wrists began to hurt. I had trouble lifting a coffee cup. My son was in preschool then, and to drop him off and pick him up, I had to walk a few blocks, but it was painful. My ankles were swollen and holding hands with my son to cross the street was hard. I couldn’t turn round doorknobs or walk up stairs with ease. After several misdiagnoses, I was sent to a rheumatologist who guessed correctly that my liver disease was making me ill. I had developed liver cirrhosis, and I had never had a drop of wine.

There were a lot of doctors, and they wrote about my case to each other. A gastroenterologist wanted me to try a course of treatment with Interferon, because I was so young, and liver transplants were not so easy to be had. For three months, I gave myself a shot of this medicine in my thigh each day. My hair fell out in clumps in the shower. When I bent down to sweep the floor, blood vessels would break in my face to make bruises. I could not leave the house sometimes because I had diarrhea or because I could not stop vomiting. Each day, I had a few hours of energy, and I would store them up for Sam, my three-year-old. I wanted him to think that I was well.

When the treatment ended, my liver function tests improved markedly. My doctor was cautious, so he took more tests. I continued to work on Free Food for Millionaires, compelled to finish a first draft. A year after the treatment, the doctor told me that I was cured of my chronic liver disease. One in a million, he marveled. I went home that afternoon, and I lay down on my bed with my good news. This life was unexpected. I told myself that I could not be so afraid of judgment that I would hold back. And so I did not.

When I sold the manuscript in the summer of 2006, I counted 11 years as my apprenticeship. I was 37 years old.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com