#the answer is no but i have like....300 words left and need motivation

[brb-on-a-quest]

Powered by enough caffeine to potentially kill a small child, can The Birb finish her Last Academic Assignment in one sitting?

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Six

Summary: It’s still summer break but all good things must come to an end. Some silliness and a bit of angst just to up the ante.

Rating: PG-13 (yes, despite the GIF above, there is still no smut … Emily is shy ☺️)

Word Count: 2100+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

Dieter and I had been dating about a month when he gave me the password to his phone. “In case it rings and I’m busy,” he said. But I soon realized he had an ulterior motive.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said one afternoon when we’d gotten back to his place after a day at the botanic garden. We were meeting his friend Tony and his wife for dinner later, so we needed to change clothes. Before he headed for the bathroom, Dieter tossed his phone on the coffee table. “In case Tony calls,” he said.

I turned on the TV and found a documentary on Iceland that looked interesting. A few minutes later, Dieter’s phone buzzed and skittered a few inches across the table. I picked it up to see a notification of a text message from his bank. I was about to put it back down again when I saw the number at the corner of the iMessage icon. Then I saw the one on the Phone icon. And the one on the Twitter icon. And the one on the Instagram icon.

Dieter came out of the shower, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “Your turn,” he said, drying his hair with a second towel.

I waved the phone at him. “Why do you have so many notifications on everything on your phone?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I never delete anything,” he said.

“You don’t have to delete them to get rid of the notifications,” I said. “You just have to open them.” He looked at me with his head cocked to one side. “You do open your notifications, right?”

He shrugged again. “That takes too much time,” he said.

“It takes like two seconds,” I laughed. I was very careful to always open any notifications on my phone. If I couldn’t take care of it at that moment, I at least read it and left it to be dealt with later. None of the icons on my phone had numbers on them.

“Two seconds for each one,” he said. “That adds up.”

“Can I clean them up for you?” Now that I’d seen those ridiculous numbers, they were driving me nuts.

“If you want,” he said. “But after you shower. We’ll be late if you don’t get a move on.”

I tossed his phone back at him and headed for the bathroom. Once I’d showered and changed into the dress I was wearing to dinner, we still had plenty of time, so I asked Dieter for his phone.

He laughed. “You’re still on that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t know how you can stand to have all those notifications just sitting there.”

I opened up iMessage first and started going through the texts, asking him if he’d already responded, until I got to the ones from two weeks ago, at which point I just opened and closed them to clear the notification. Anything that old was useless, anyway. I’d gotten through about five weeks worth of texts before the phone rang. Dieter grabbed it from my hand and answered it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay. See you in a bit.” He hung up the call. “That was Tony. They’re running a bit late. Mario dumped a thing of paint all over himself and Elena has to change him before they drop the kids at the babysitter.”

He handed the phone back to me. “Want to keep playing?”

“Yes,” I said. “When I’m done, your phone is going to look as uncluttered as mine.” I kept opening and closing texts as we got into the car and drove to the restaurant. I was almost done with the text messages when Tony and Elena arrived and I had to put the phone away.

“Why’s she messing with your phone?” Tony asked.

“She discovered that I never clear or delete anything and it’s driving her nuts,” Dieter said with a laugh.

“Uh oh, he just suckered you into cleaning up that phone of his,” Tony told me. “He had 300 voicemails one time.”

“Hey, as long as it gets done,” I said. “And anyway, it’s job security. He can’t break up with me until I finish it and that could take years.” I winked and Tony and Elena both laughed.

“She’s got you there,” Elena said. “Smart woman.”

***************************************

It actually took me two weeks to clear everything off Dieter’s phone. I’d spend a few hours working on it every time we were together, and of course there would be new items for me to clean up since the last time I’d had my hands on his phone, but eventually I was able to hand him a phone with absolutely no notification numbers cluttering up the screen.

“Ta da!” I said. “Now promise me you’ll keep on top of this.”

“I thought that’s what you’re here for,” he said. “Besides, if I keep cluttering it up, you have to keep cleaning it up and then I can’t break up with you.” He slipped his arms around me and kissed my neck. I forgot all about the phone for a while.

The next morning, while we were getting dressed, I realized that Dieter hadn’t put on any underwear. “Um, what’s up with that?” I said, gesturing vaguely at his pants. “Commando can’t be comfortable in those jeans.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t gotten around to doing the laundry yet this week,” he said.

“How do you survive?” I asked. “You have to at least do a load of underwear every week, Dieter.”

“I hate doing laundry,” he whined.

“That explains why you wear the same old shirt three days in a row,” I said, picking his dirty shirt from yesterday up off the floor with my thumb and forefinger, holding it out like it was something disgusting. “Where is your dirty laundry hiding?”

He showed me the hamper hidden behind the bedroom door. It was overflowing. I sighed. “Okay, I cleaned up your phone, now I’m going to show you my technique for laundry.”

I went into his laundry room, found the basket and brought it back to the bedroom. “Don’t bother to separate lights from darks, unless you have something brand new that might bleed dye,” I told him. “Just dump it all in together to save time.” I filled the basket with a medium sized load and handed it to him, then led him back to the laundry room.

“Okay, throw the clothes in the washer, fill up the detergent tray, set it on cold water, and press START,” I said. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” I patted him on the butt and led him into the living room. “Now the trick is, you read a book while the laundry is going. When the alarm goes off, you grab a new load out of the hamper, move the wet load into the dryer, load up the washer again and boom — you’re back to your book.”

I plopped on the couch and opened the book I’d left on the coffee table the night before. “Keep repeating until the laundry is all done.”

“What about folding?,” he said. “I hate folding.”

“Fold as you go,” I said. “When a load comes out of the dryer, fold it right away so nothing wrinkles, but wait until everything’s done before you put it away. Saves on trips back and forth to the bedroom.”

“If I buy you jewelry, will you do my laundry every week?,” he joked.

“No,” I said. “But I will do your laundry if you keep your phone decluttered.”

“Deal,” he said, shaking my hand.

*************************************************************

My summer break was coming to an end, and I was in denial. It happened every year. I’d start panicking about all the things I’d meant to get done and hadn’t. This year, I had an even better reason to dread the start of the school year. Once I was back at work, I wouldn’t be able to drop everything and drive into L.A. to hang out with Dieter on a whim. And our late night phone calls would have to end. I was up early to get to work by 7:00 am every day and I needed to be in bed by 10:00 pm at the absolute latest.

”Five fucking thirty?” Dieter asked, grimacing.

“Yep,” I said. “Every day. But don’t you have to get up early for makeup and wardrobe and stuff like that when you’re on set?”

”Yeah, but I don’t have to really be awake,” he said, stretching one arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “Mostly I just shuffle out to the car and they dump me at the makeup trailer. I think it’s actually easier for them if we’re half conscious. Like working on a giant Ken doll.”

I knew how grumpy and taciturn he could be in the morning, so I believed him. “Well, I have to be awake,” I said. “Up, dressed, hair and makeup done, breakfast eaten and on campus ready to unlock the doors at 7:15.”

”Barbaric,” Dieter said, shaking his head before kissing my temple. “What teenager would be at school that early, anyway?”

”The ones who get dropped off by their parents on the their way to work,” I said. “And the ones who have zero period classes.”

Dieter wrinkled his forehead. “Zero period? There’s something before first period?”

I nodded. “Yeah, mostly electives and credit recovery stuff. But I don’t want to talk about work.”

Dieter sighed. “Neither do I,” he said. “It’s going to suck big time when we can’t see each other as much. And if I have to hang up at ten o’clock every night. Half the time I’m not even home by then.”

“But we’ll have weekends,” I reminded him.

He wrapped his other arm around me. “Unless I’m out of town.” He kissed my cheek. “I wish you could just quit your job and hang out with me,” he pouted, nuzzling against my throat.

”I told you, I can’t quit,” I said. “I only have a few more years until I’m vested in my pension.”

”I’ve got plenty of money,” he said.

”And we’ve been together less than two months,” I reminded him. “If we were in our twenties, then I’d have time to find something new if we don’t work out, but I’ve got to think about retirement. I’m so close. I need to hang onto this job.”

Dieter sat back. “Only two months?,” he said. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.” He gently kissed my lips.

”I know,” I replied as soon as my mouth was free to form words.

He pulled back, a slight frown on his lips. “Do you really expect this to not work out?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m pragmatic,” I said carefully. “I know that the odds of any relationship lasting forever are pretty low. Which is not to say that I don’t think we can make it work, Deet. I do think we can, I just … I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I don’t want to jump in to something with both feet and then find out I’m stranded miles from shore all by myself.”

”I would never leave you stranded,” he said. His eyes were steady as he held my gaze. “I promise you that. I have fucked up a lot of things in my life, but this is not one of them. You ever need anything — money, a place to crash, anything — you’ve got it.” He bit at his lower lip. “I’ll put it in writing if you need me to. Have a lawyer draw up a contract.”

”Dieter, are you crazy?” I sat back. “This is not a business transaction. This is a relationship.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “I know, I just … shit, I’m fucking this up. Look, people sign prenups all the time. You know, in case they get divorced, they don’t have to argue over who gets what. I’m just thinking … something like that, but for living together.”

”Okay, I get it. But it’s only been two months, Deet. You’re jumping the gun. I’m not going to quit my job and move to L.A. just like that. Things have been amazing between us so far, but there’s going to be some bumps in the road. That’s life.”

It felt like he wanted to say something more, but he held his tongue. After a long moment, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Em. That’s life.” His eyes were haunted. “But that’s the future. Let’s live in the now, okay?” He gave me that lopsided grin that always melted my heart.

”Sounds good to me,” I replied. I kissed him and before long, neither of us was thinking about anything besides each other.

[society1989]

a love like blood - marcus sedgwick | BOOK REVIEW

🗓️ DATE RELEASED;

JULY 2014

📚 GENRE;

HORROR/HISTORICAL FICTION/THRILLER

⭐️ PERSONAL RATING;

HEAVILY ENJOYED, ABSOLUTELY NEEDS A REREAD. CAN BE HARD FOR THOSE WITH SENSITIVE STOMACHS. EXTRA THOUGHTS (SPOILER & NON-SPOILER) BELOW THE CUT.

💭 thoughts (non-spoiler edition);

for the october season, i really wanted to read a mystery/supernatural book and (though i had initially been looking for interview with a vampire) i found a love like blood in my college’s library.

the book follows a young charles jackson, starting with his time in the army during WW2, and his life after the war. during the war, he sees a man feed on a woman, drinking her blood. he’s horrified. he can no longer find the man once he calls for help, so he moves on with his life.. until he once again sees the man who now is sitting with a young woman. in fear of repeating the cycle, charles follows the young woman in hope for answers.

wow what a read! with amazing moral analysis and themes of obsession and revenge, this was such a hard book to put down. the dizzying descriptions of europe add to the hazy, somber atmosphere the story leads you on. charles jackson is a fundamentally flawed and often unlikable protagonist, but sedgwick manages to keep you intrigued and - sometimes - rooting for him! though without much plot twists, the story still manages to surprise with new revelations, letting you learn along with the protagonist. can easily go from a 1 to a 50, but the looming presence of danger kept it from being jarring and kept me pretty tense. absolutely recommend reading blind, i even think im spoiling too much here!!! around 300 pages, this book is quite shorter but not at all sweet lol!

💬 thoughts (spoiler edition, be warned!);

okay let’s get into the fun stuff now :]

i love the unreliable narrator of it all when charles talks to.. other people (marian, hunter, etc). you can very well tell how much of A Creep he can come across as, especially with marian. love how you never really know her side of the story, and its mainly left up to interpretation how she really felt about charles (psst i know the letter marian’s mom sent and what verovkin said kinda confirms she trusted him in some way but i still think it’s left a bit open ended.. i don’t know!)

charles’ slow spiral into obsession was by far the most unnerving part of the book. it’s just so gradual yet you see him fall deeper and deeper seemingly by the minute! he’s unrecognizable by the end, appearance and personality wise - it’s less like a man losing his sanity, and more so an animal who’s contracted a rabid disease and slowly lost its identity, merely staggering through life but hostile when you approach too close. my favorite section that shows this is when he’s approached by the couple in the train. they’re so aggressively friendly and seemingly brush off all the social cues charles fails at, and all charles sees is danger and can barely even respond to them. the book also drags you into his paranoia; everyone seems to be in on something while you and charles are left in the dark. this is especially apparent in avignon, in which verovkin’s ideals seemed to have infected everyone in the city. no one is a friendly face and everyone has an ulterior motive.

jesus christ the two last sections had me by the THROAT. this entire book is about charles’ psyche in a way (more on that later…), but i feel like he finally “took the mask off” for lack of a better word. in earlier chapters he had put on a character/persona to excuse his actions, but near the end we get the rawest form of him: he openly questions his motives, if he truly cared for those closest to him, and his desires. i especially love the implication that the real reason verovkin didn’t care about charles escaping is because he didn’t need to keep him chained - verovkin knew that charles was already influenced, the blood being fed was just a placebo. and the last few pages OUGH! literature!!

🖋️analysis;

war is an unspoken main theme. we meet charles when he is actively in the army, and follow him and all of europe after the war. we learn verovkin is a veteran who served on both sides, and we then begin to understand his desire for blood. he’s seen men die, more than anyone else has in the story, and once soldiers are told to put their weapons down and live their quiet life, what happens to those who can’t? the frenzy and bloodshed of war will forever clash with the restlessness and false hope of a peace period, and some will not wait that long to start once again looking for that moment of chaos. verovkin didn’t, and as evident by the book, it’s charles’ turn to revel in that glimpse of disorder only obtained through blood. war is unpredictable: as is love, as is lust, and as is violence. as sedgwick writes, “How ill we were! How sick our lives were, how empty, how grey. Without the war to tell us that life was precious, what were we? Threaten to take something from us and we grasp on it with desperate desire; give it back to us, and how soon we grow tired of it!” (32). there’s a deep sickness that has spread throughout europe in a love like blood, and it yearns for a life of over-indulgence and desiring what you can’t have.

one strange reoccurring theme i just couldn’t ignore is charles’ assumed homosexuality by others. a total of three times charles is accused to be gay and, of course, vehemently denies the claim. interestingly the first time this happens is after he sees verovkin. hm. maybe it’s just a me-thing, but i couldn’t help but read his interactions with major greaves as a little romantic! i would also argue that this line is a good example of what i'm talking about: "...and althought there were people dancing, and the large clubs had reopened, I found myself longing for Major Greaves to pour me a glass of house wine and tell me to call him Edward" (32). however, i feel like the earlier lines in the excerpt contradict this, and this line seems to be mostly about the book's war theme and the loneliness of post-war france. but, it is true he is never able to replicate this kind of closeness with any of the women he pursues, and that strikes me as intentional. the closest people to him throughout the book are hunter (his best friend and is later outed as a homosexual) and verovkin (the man charles has spent decades trying to track down). this line from verovkin especially made me question this theory a little further: "First of all, I am going to find out what it is about you. What is inside you. I believe you have a connection to blood, just as I do, and I am going to make you find it. I don't know what it is, but I know it's there. You are fascinated by blood just as you are scared by it" (276). let me clarify: one could definitely speculate on if this interaction with verovkin was real or not, no matter how you interpret the novel. of course in the actual text it appears to be him, but you could definitely interpret this brief interaction as a hallucination from charles. apart from this monologue verovkin delivers, the two never interact face to face before NOR after this! if we're going with a queer reading, the blood is the analogy; it's something charles is vehemently afraid of but yet is endlessly fascinated by. verovkin is this ultimate evil he blames all his issues on, blames him for making charles the way he ends up - yet it's always been charles' own doing! much like how closeted/repressed queer people blame their queerness on the fault of others/ "you made me like this".

i feel like i would be doing this novel an injustice by ignoring the non-con elements of the vampiric/hemophiliac deaths. by default, the nature of vampires is non-consensual, but the usage of words like “forced” and “attacked” make marcus sedgwick’s stance clear. even worse is that charles had seen the first attack and did nothing to stop it. paralyzed by his own fear he does not stop the assault and can absolutely be faulted for her death. using the fact that charles is a bit of creep (a bit being an understatement), we see him get rejected over and over again - he is even cheated on in the loveless marriage he was in. then, by the end of the book, he kills verovkin and repeats the cycle of assault. he has an endless amount of money and time on his hands to escape from his crimes now.

📝favorite quotes (spoilers yet again);

[bopinion]

2022 / 41

Aperçu of the Week:

"I once was lost, but now I’m found.

I once was blind, but now I see."

(Amazing Grace, classic spiritual written 1779 by John Newton)

Bad News of the Week:

Sabotage can be an act of warfare. For the past weeks, everyone has been asking who was responsible for the North Stream 1 and 2 natural gas pipelines destroyed by simultaneous explosions. The consensus is that it must have been a coordinated act of sabotage by what is presumably, given its complexity, a state actor. But which state? With what motive? Or terrorists? Everything seemed and seems possible. And then, a week ago, the entire rail traffic in northern Germany was paralyzed when two essential fiber-optic cables for the digital coordination of track occupancy were cut - several hundred kilometers apart. Targeted and compelling with insider knowledge of where and how to strike in order to cause the greatest possible damage with simple means.

Since then, voices have been rising warning of a new scenario: the specific sabotage of infrastructure in order to destabilize. The word "hybrid warfare" is making the rounds. And Bundeswehr General Carsten Breuer, commander of the Territorial Command, explicitly warns that a new kind of situation must be prepared for in today's world: "Here in the command, we are primarily preparing for hybrid threats. That's the state between not quite peace anymore, but not really war yet either." Every citizen, he said, must realize that they need to "change their individual behavior." For example, by buying a battery-powered radio. But also by changing his mental attitude (!). It is hardly reassuring when Breuer also states that "hysteria (is) a bad advisor".

The idea is scary when you think about what happens at home when the WLAN/WiFi goes down for five minutes: there's no music playing in Mom's kitchen, Dad can't get into his online meeting, and the kids complain that they can't watch their current favorite show or "meet" their friends for gaming. But what if the power goes out? For more than an hour? And across the board?

When the railroad company was asked why it wasn't better protected, the answer was short and to the point: cables for communication, signal switching, barrier operation, etc. also run along each of our railroad lines. And these rail lines are 34,000 kilometers long! So effective physical protection is simply an illusion. This is even more true for digital infrastructures. So there's only one thing left to do: include failure and sabotage protection in the planning, for example by means of separate secondary and fall-back systems. And then hope for the best. This also applies in a slimmed-down form to the home. Candles and radio, if you like. But we'd rather leave 300 kg of food cans and camping toilets to the preppers.

Good News of the Week:

Georgia Meloni, the inevitable coming head of Italy's government, has been able to successfully navigate an important personnel issue, thus also proving her assertiveness in the party spectrum. It is about the officially second-highest position in the state: the presidency of the Senate. And this was now awarded to Ignazio La Russa in the first round of voting with an absolute majority. Like his party leader, he makes no secret of his convictions. For example, he proudly shows journalists statues of Benito Mussolini in his living room and advises the use of the Hitler salute because, unlike the handshake, it is contact-less because of Corona. So the takeover of power by the far-right Fratelli d'Italia in Italy seems unstoppable.

Fortunately this seems to be different in Sweden. There too was a clear shift to the right in the last election, with the previously ruling left-wing coalition of Social Democratic Prime Minister Magdalena Andersson being clearly voted out. At the same time, the ultra-right Sweden Democrats received their best result ever, 20.5 %, became the second strongest party and laid claim to government participation. This came as a shock to many observers, as Sweden had always been considered a social democratic model state. But things did not turn out so badly.

About a month after the election in Sweden, the conservative parties Moderate, Christian Democrats and Liberals have agreed on a new government, and Moderate party leader Ulf Kristersson is to be elected prime minister tomorrow. The Sweden Democrats are not part of this alliance, but have announced that they will "support" this coalition without a majority of their own in parliament. A minority government, which would hardly be able to act in Italy, is not uncommon in the Scandinavian country.

In the day-to-day business of politics, therefore, there will be - to put it romantically - an original democratic competition for individual ideas, projects, bills, etc. in parliament. There is no majority coalition that has already set the agenda in a coalition agreement, which then only has to be worked through. Now, each time, support for individual positions must be solicited. This also applies to the Sweden Democrats, who - it has to be said - represent more than one in five votes in the elections and are therefore legitimate representatives of the people, even if it is unpleasant. The hope that pragmatism will continue to rule in Sweden's parliamentary monarchy is therefore justified even after this shift to the right.

Personal happy moment of the week:

Last Sunday, my wife and I picked up the Omicron-specialized Corona Booster. Even though I - who, unlike her, do not belong to a defined vulnerable group - was not yet called upon to do so according to the current recommendation of the German Vaccination Commission. But at the beginning of the cold season and another wave just in Bavaria it seemed reasonable. And then yesterday we gathered all our courage and came out of the cellar back into normal life: we were at a party! For the fifth wedding anniversary of dear friends. With lots of people, lots of conversations, lots of buffet, lots of dancing and lots of beer. And it just felt good - despite a few misgivings in the back of our minds.

I couldn't care less...

...how long Liz Truss will stay in office. Or the lettuce head on YouTube wins: https://youtu.be/Sm-RE95lKJ0. Because the British prime minister is basically down for the count - and clearly so. Her starting conditions may not have been ideal, but she was also beside the will of the people with every single one of her first political decisions. And of the markets, see the dramatic developments of the British pound and government bonds. The resignation of Finance Minister Kwasi Kwarteng as a pawn victim will hardly help her: according to a poll in The Times, only nine percent want to keep her as head of government.

As I write this...

...it is 23 degrees Celsius outside. Mid-October. And the leaves are autumnally colored. "Indian summer" in the middle of Europe. Nice.

Post Scriptum:

Last Sunday, elections were held in Lower Saxony. The fourth largest German state by population and the first heavyweight after the Bundestag elections last fall. And the old prime minister will also be the new one: the Social Democrat Stephan Weil was able to buck the downward federal trend against the Social Democrats SPD. And has certainly benefited from a bonus of office. And his calm, unagitated manner as the father of the state. Two parties have made gains: the Greens, who now have a very good chance of forming a government with the SPD - the desired constellation of both parties.

And the right-wing populist Alternative for Germany (AfD), which almost doubled its share of the vote to 11.6%. The main reasons for their voters are, on the one hand, protest behavior against the established parties and, on the other, "price increases" according to the polls. Pfff... You might as well vote for a certain party because you don't like the weather. But that's how it is in a democracy. Every vote has the same weight, even if a voter's ability to make a politically sound decision may be questionable. But that's the raison d'être of every right-wing party in Europe: I'm dissatisfied with the situation, so I vote extreme in order to criticize "the system". Thanks for nothing.

[stainedglassfish]

ok guys i am once again posting this story i wrote but this time with a fancy tumblr thing check it out under the cut (reblogs greatly appreciated)

At the very end of the universe there was a town. Not a large town, just an average sized town. Don’t ask how it got there, nobody knows and it’s possible there is no answer. It floated gently on the endless cosmos, drifting towards infinity and destruction. A gigantic wall surrounded it, 30 feet tall. Nobody had ever been over the wall. Nobody had ever tried. 

Life went on. Everyone knew they were very close to their own demise, but nobody really minded it. Life was rather bleak when you were with the same 300 people your whole life and had no concept of exploration or curiosity. Everyone went about their business and society made no progressions. 

Now, one day something very odd happened. In a dusty alleyway a man appeared in a bluish flash of light. He stumbled slightly and leaned against a wall, gasping for air. He was a time traveller, from way back in a distant age. In fact, he hadn’t meant to come here. He had technically died, but all his tamperings with the space-time continuum had brought him here instead. Brushing himself off, he wandered out into the main street. Everything froze. People around him stopped halfway through words, mid-step, and all eyes turned to him. The only one who remained oblivious was a woman who seemed to be mopping the grass. The newcomer strolled down the street with a slight swagger. He had no idea where he was or the importance of it. At length one of the villagers ran off, returning with two others. One was the mayor of the town. She was short and businesslike, and she appeared struck dumb upon seeing the man (whose name was Fread. He hated his name, as it reminded him of bread, which he despised), in sharp contrast to the man next to her. He was rather long and gangly, and his eyes had a misty, sad quality to them, as if he was only half in this world. He was the town scholar, the only one there who still had any passion towards knowledge.

“Who- what-?” The mayor found her voice and stepped closer to Fread, peering up at him.

“My name is Fread. Where the hell am I?” He was utterly perplexed by this reaction to him, as nobody had even seen him appear.

“You mean… you mean you don’t know this place?”

“I think maybe we should go elsewhere…” Fread had a few things to explain. He was silently led away to a building in the far west. 

The room was startlingly empty, and out the window Fread could see the wall. He still couldn’t see over it though. He had haphazardly explained his predicament to the mayor, who had since scurried off looking dazed. Fread was left alone with the scholar. Outside life was returning to normal. The people had already brushed aside what had happened and had gone back to sluggishly working on things that did not matter. Turning to the scholar, Fread tried to think of something to say.

“So uhh….. What do you do?” Fread had never been much of a conversationalist, but he wanted to know more about this place and about the man standing before him. He saw within him something he couldn’t quite place, a sort of twisted despair.

“I am the scholar here. Everyone else has rather… abandoned the arts and literature. They do not seek knowledge or enrichment,” replied the scholar. He seemed to be avoiding getting any closer to Fread.

“Why?”

“Everyone’s lost hope. Nobody knows when all this is going to end, nobody sees any point in improving.”

“Oh,” Fread wasn’t sure what to make of this. This was the fate of humanity? To give up when growth and development was such a crucial part of society? “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Fread. With an A,” He added with distaste. He was beginning to realize that he didn’t know how to get back to his own time, “Uhh, Peter, I don’t know exactly how to say this but…. I’m not sure how to get back.”

“Back?”

“Back to my home. To my--” He paused, tears suddenly springing to his eyes, “Y’know, there’s not a lot back there for me.”

“I am sorry. If you would like, you could stay with me, in my house,” Peter’s voice took on a quality of near excitement, but he still looked mournful as ever.

“I think I’d like that,” but Fread was crying, and though he looked forward to getting to know Peter more, he wished it didn’t have to be at the end of the universe. Hesitantly, Peter approached him, and Fread fell into his arms, trying to focus less on his predicament and more on the sensation of Peter’s hands rubbing his back gently, on the sound of his heart beating lightly in his chest. Eventually they broke apart, and Fread was feeling significantly better. 

They dined together that night. The house was filled with books on shelves, in towering stacks, scattered about. At a desk, papers and art supplies littered the surface. Peter made incredible soup and bread, and Fread found that he hardly missed his life back home. Peter explained the wall to him, and Fread was extremely curious.

“So nobody knows what’s over it?”

“No, nobody. It has never been crossed as far as I am aware.”

“But who put it there? Why?”

“I do not know. We assume it is there for a reason, and nobody here is brave enough to cross it.”

“I’d do it.”

“You would?”

“I don’t have much to lose, anyway. And you never know, maybe there’s a whole world out there.”

“But how would you get over it?”

“I saw that water tower near the wall. I could climb that, and then take a rope down,” Fread was getting excited. This was an adventure, and it was true, he didn’t have much to lose. Except Peter, and that’s what got him.

“Could you…. Do you think you could come with me?” He asked Peter, who looked down at his soup thoughtfully.

“I do not think so. The people here need someone to hold them together, to keep anything alive. You would have to go alone.”

“Oh,” Fread said sadly. He was still going to do it though. He was filled with a burning need to find out what was behind the wall, and he could tell Peter was too.

The next day he spent with Peter. He was risking a lot, and though he felt it was important, he was not ready to go after just one day. Peter never seemed to run out of things to talk about, and he told Fread about plants and animals and space and literature and though Fread didn’t really understand it, he liked listening to Peter talk. 

After a while, Peter fell silent, and they both ruminated on their time together and what was ahead. Fread had his head on Peter’s shoulder, curled against him and nearly falling asleep.

“Peter?” Fread asked quietly, unsure what exactly he wanted to say.

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“I don’t know. I just have, like, a bad feeling. That there’ll be nothing over there, or- or that it’s dangerous or I won’t be able to get back, or-” he trailed off. Peter, putting aside the book he had been reading, pulled Fread into his arms and held him tightly, humming a tune Fread didn’t recognize. Eventually Fread fell asleep, and Peter stayed there, not wanting to disturb him. He smelled nice, anyway. After about an hour he picked Fread up and carried him to bed, and they slept that night cuddled together.

In the morning Peter made eggs and toast for breakfast. Neither of them had much to say, but they were never more than five feet from each other. Fread enjoyed the food, but he couldn’t eat much as his trepidation grew. Peter read a few poems to him from a large leather-bound book, but in the end grew silent and just hummed to himself, running his fingers through Fread’s hair.

At last the time came. A crowd gathered around the water tower as Fread prepared to climb up and over. He had a rope slung over his shoulder, and he was trembling slightly with nerves and excitement. Peter stood at the front of the crowd, his brows knitted slightly. Fread was resolute, and though his emotions ran high, he did not cry and he felt no need to. After steeling himself for a moment, he prepared to begin the climb. As he was about to begin, Peter rushed forward, grabbing him by the arm and wheeling him around. Almost under his breath, Peter spoke to him, sounding slightly choked.

“If you… if you don’t come back from this, I want you to know that you are the best thing to have come here in all my time. You’ve… you’ve given me new hope and new motivation and I- I love you,” And Peter kissed him, gently, but lingering just long enough for Fread to know the feeling behind it. But it was over too soon, and Fread had to turn away to climb, murmuring a goodbye that did not feel like enough. He could taste Peter’s tears on his lips.

And when he reached the top, and looked back, he could not find Peter in the crowd. He could not have, as Peter had returned to his home, unable to watch as Fread disappeared over the edge. Fread tied his rope to a rung of the tower, and began his descent. Reaching the bottom, he rubbed his eyes, confused. Before him was an endless expanse of nothing. Not a single sound, no color or rocks or sand. Fread couldn’t decide if it was black or white or some color that he couldn’t even comprehend. As he stared into it, trying to make sense of it, he saw something on the horizon (or what he supposed was the horizon, there wasn’t exactly a sky or land.) It was getting bigger and bigger, and Fread felt his heart leap to his throat as he watched it. It was a sort of swirling mass, at once misty and sharp. It advanced upon him, and Fread found that he could not move. He watched as it advanced, and when it reached him he knew no more. He was swept up and torn apart, and the mass crushed the wall as if it were made of paper, devouring it and shortly after, the town. Nothing remained, no color or light or earth or buildings, no consciousness or thoughts or emotion. And the mass, having finally won out against the town at the end of the universe, expanded until it was everything, and then nothing was at the end of the universe.

[lefttigerobservation]

(Photo by https://unsplash.com/@alexasoh)

i'm gonna be honest w/ y'all first: this month was Not at all productive. i had major school work & an all-round lack of motivation, but nonetheless, i got things done! and i'm pretty proud of myself for making minute progress anyway <3

basic statistics!

words written: overall, +/- 19 114! (TFG: 11 506)

total (A4) page count: as usual..... very long..... :) i'm waiting for it to load and it's Crawling up the 300 portion. 366!

thing i'm proudest of doing: finally putting into words this one thought i had Ages ago about how zephyr kinda feels... left behind? considering all her friends are married/ have kids/ have a partner/ have something other than work (as much as she loves it) to drive them? it just felt very. rooted. and i love that passage.

things i Need to do: still need to attempt to write at least a hundred words a day. school & shenanigans have been Too busy and covid is still kicking my ass <3 motivation!! need to get that. and hoping to finish chapter nine & start chapter ten by the end of september... aiming to finish chapter eleven and start chapter twelve by the YEAR END AA.

comments and shenanigans!

i feel like a pretty good summary of my current writing schedule is that "this is fine" dog meme with the plants surrounding it. you know?

BUT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING: i'm letting myself take breaks. i used to pressure myself (and still semi-am considering i want to finish tfg Next Year <3) to keep to one wip when now i realised i don't have to Write another, but i can Plan it.

hence! say it like it is has a revival! with all new characters, an actual plot, and queer folk! because i can :)

i'm genuinely excited to start developing them before i go back to my usual schedule with tfg <3

tfg related comments: i really love zephyr's ability to make me absolutely in shambles,,,, /lh & also, i spent like ten minutes yesterday solely thinking about lucille being a dumbass and it warmed my heart. when you get little sleep, that's the answer: think about your ocs. i dare you. do it.

my heart goes out to scottish girlfriend abigail who is, also, a mess. they fit well together for the time being <3 while lucille doesn't understand feelings and is lonely af <3 i feel so sorry for her lmao......

and that's it this month! i'm sorry to keep it so short, but i am... fatigued. i hope y'all are as excited as i am for the rest of my work to come <3

[obeymestudentcouncil]

Writing Lessons, 18+

@lord-diavolo  had an anonymous request along these lines. They wrote a short 300 word drabble on the idea and later when we were talking about it and I proposed another headcanon on the idea, they told me to write the fic.

You had just made it out the front doors of RAD, your classes are done for the day. You stopped at the sound of your DDD notifying you of an incoming text. Figuring one of the brothers wanted to walk home with you, you opened it, surprised to see a new message from Diavolo instead.

There’s been an issue with your last exchange report. Would you please stop by my office before you head home? I’ve let Lucifer know that I will see that you get home safely.

You stopped, head cocked at the message. You weren’t sure what could have possibly been wrong with the report you dropped off earlier that afternoon. But, one didn’t argue with Diavolo.

Sure! I hadn’t left campus yet, I’ll be there in a few minutes.

You turned on your heel, jogging up the steps back to the large doors. You slipped through, shouldering your bag more comfortably as you made your way through the halls and up the stairs to where you knew the Prince’s offices were. The door was closed, so you knocked smartly on the door, waiting for him to tell you it was okay to enter. You waited, surprised when the door swung open, Diavolo smiling at you from the other side. He had removed his uniform jacket and tie already, obviously planning on working here for a few hours yet, and had made himself comfortable now that the building was emptying for the evening.

He stood aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. The faint click of the lock made a small tendril of concern work it’s way into your brain, but you squashed it. Out of any of the demons, you really didn’t think you had cause to fear him, because you knew you were minding yourself, not causing any trouble aside from the upheavals you’d caused in the House of Lamentation.

“You needed to see me, sir?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “I mean, Diavolo? I know I sent the report in on time, and I had all the information in it.”

Diavolo laughed, a hand lightly on your back to lead you across the room to his desk. You could see your report on the glossy wood, a blank report next to it along with plenty of sheets that had lines of letters with space to write more. Funny, they looked like the kind school children used to learn how to write their letters.

“That’s the issue; I have to admit, I can’t read a thing on here to tell if the information is there or not. How is it that you have turned in totally fine reports up until now?” You flushed, looking down at the floor and mumbling an answer. “I’m sorry, my dear? I didn’t understand that.” There was humor in his voice, making you fairly certain he had heard you, but you sighed, looking up.

”I’ve been having Satan write it out for me while I dictated it. But I forgot about today’s and he wasn’t around so I had to do it myself.”

He motioned to his chair pulled up to the desk, still half smiling. “Have a seat. I don’t have any pressing matters tonight, so I thought we’d take the time to work on your penmanship.”

You held up your hands. “Why don’t I just go over the contents instead?”

It wasn’t that you minded spending the next hour or more with Diavolo. Quite the opposite. You had a monster of a crush on the prince, but there was no way anyone other than the brothers would ever know. Asmo knew, of course. It was impossible to keep anything desire related hidden from him. Lucifer was the one most often with you when you were around Diavolo, so of course, he’d figured it out fairly quickly. Now, the thought of being in his office after most everyone had headed home, the memory of the lock clicking into place, had your heart lurching in your chest.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, I need a legible copy for the records.” He simpered. “And surely you aren’t going to give me more work by making me write it for you?” You shook your head no quickly and he grinned. “Besides, you’d be in this same predicament if Satan isn’t available next time. So, lessons. Sit.”

You were out of arguments, so you sat down, Diavolo scooting the heavy chair forward up to the desk for you. You pulled your pen out of your bag, reaching for the blank report copy. Diavolo’s hand reached out, gently grasping your wrist before you could start writing.

“Ah ah. You need to walk before you run.” He leaned over your shoulder, pulling the sheets of teaching pages closer. He tapped at the beginning of the first one. “I want to see legible improvement before I let you write your report.” You turned around and gawped at him, earning a chuckle. “Don’t worry; my schedule is cleared for the rest of the night if needs be.” He nodded to the desk, smiling and crossing his arms over his chest.

Defeated, you turned back around, trying to tamp down the shame at being forced to draw your letters like a child. And through it all, you could feel Diavolo standing right behind your shoulder. You tried to ignore him, tried not to think about it but he was so close, and you knew he was watching you.

You’d finished the first page without more than a few sounds from him. Then his hand was on your shoulder. “Stand up for a moment, please.” You looked at him confused, but obliging, standing you felt his body press closer for a moment, then your hips pulled back until you sat back down. You dropped your pen, no doubt red in the face when you realized he’d sat you in his lap. The chair was moved closer to the desk again, one of his hands warm across your stomach to steady you. “Forgive me, but it was hard to monitor your progress from back there.” He chuckled, and you closed your eyes against the way that sound so close to your ear went straight to the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to ignore the fact that you were sitting in Diavolo’s lap, knowing you had to get this done before you could leave for the evening to take care of the thoughts that now were flooding your mind. You focused as best you could, but the warmth coming off him against your back and along the backs of your thighs was a constant distraction. He leaned forward, pressing himself against you as he looked over your shoulder to check your writing. Fingers tapping on a line that even you could tell was too shaky to be acceptable, he tutted. “This won’t do; what to do, what to do?”

He snapped his fingers, making you jump. The movement was enough to make you realize that you weren’t the only one being affected by the current seating arrangement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open a drawer on the desk, a small bottle set on the table. At first, you were thinking it was ink, but the way it moved in the bottle was thicker. His chin rested on your shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist again, fingers toying with the belt of your uniform pants.

”I have an idea for motivation if you are amenable.” He said softly in your ear. The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver up your spine. You swallowed thickly, unsure where this idea had come from, but you were not turning it down. Diavolo let out a pleased purr in your ear as you nodded your head slowly, not quite trusting your voice. His fingers made quick work of your belt, nudging you to stand up as he unfastened them as well, his free hand tugging them down your thighs. He reached for the bottle on the table, and you heard the faint sound of the cap opening. Fingers coated in warm liquid traced over your entrance, pulling a soft sound from your throat.

Fingers gently but quickly preparing you had you rocking your hips back against him. You barely heard the sound of his own belt unfastening, the shifting of cloth behind you. His fingers left your body with a final curl and you whined at the loss of contact. He laughed, guiding you back to him until you could feel the head of his cock, warm and slippery with more of the lube pressing against you. He pressed down on your hips gently as you lowered yourself, hissing at the stretch. You hadn’t expected him to be small by any means, but he was easily the largest you’d ever been with.

He waited until you were fully seated on him, both of you sighing at the feeling. When you went to raise up, his hands clamped on your hips, gently but firmly keeping you in place. “Ah. I should have been more clear; this is the motivation. You get the rest when and if you finish your work.” He pulled the chair closer to the desk again, seemingly oblivious to how the movements affected you.

You closed your eyes to compose yourself, leaning forward to grab the next page, gasping at the shift of him inside you. If you had to write more slowly, otherwise you couldn’t keep the letters from shaking again. The prince’s neverending energy levels weren’t helping. The man could not sit still. Every few minutes he was shifting position again, hand on your stomach to help you balance. Each time it sent another thrill through your body, another moment hoping he’d tire of his game and just fuck you; you could get the work done after. But instead, he’d look at your progress, fingers rubbing lightly over your lower belly.

Finally after what felt like an eternity of whimpering, teeth-gritting torture you finished the practice pages. “Excellent work! You still need more work, but at least it’s mostly legible now.” He chuckled as you gasped when he moved forward again, pulling a blank page to you. “Now, just show me you can write the report properly and we’ll be done.”

You got started writing, surprised at how still he was sitting now. You assumed he was as ready for you to finish the report as he was and started to relax. Your writing was still good as far as you could tell, but the pen was moving much quicker over the page. About a third of the way down the page, you were working on a particularly complicated section of writing when you heard a huff of laughter. Seconds later, Diavolo bucked his hips up hard into you. You dropped the pen, but not before the word you were writing was mucked up horribly. You glared over your shoulder at him, but he feigned ignorance, picking up the paper to look at the mistake. “Tsk tsk. I should make you start over,” He grinned as you gawped at him. “But I suppose one tiny error is an improvement, is It not?”

You made sure to shift before turning to look at him, hearing the groan he tried to hide. “My lord is gracious.” You said with a smirk. You held your hand out for the paper, turning back to work with a shimmy of your hips that had his nails digging into the flesh. At last, you signed the bottom of the page, triumphantly handing the report to him. His eyes skimmed it, nodding before setting it aside.

”Much better. I can read it later. Now,” He pressed his hands to your belly again, grinding his hips up to yours with a growl. “I believe we have one last matter to attend to, don’t we, my dear?” You nodded, flexing your legs to move on his length. His fingers twitched against your skin and curious, you pressed your own hand just below his. The next time he moved, you gasped as you could feel the movement under your hand, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your front walls enough to feel.

With his own hands to help guide you, Diavolo and you set a rhythm as he fucked you. The office was filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and the moans, grunts, and growls of the two present. “Don’t stop moving.” He ground out, nipping at the shell of your ear as he commanded you. You moaned, nodding your head as you keep your hips rising and falling on his. One of his hands left your hip, pressing against your belly for a moment before moving lower, fingers beginning to work your sex. You keened, back-arching, whining when his own movements stopped. “I told you to keep moving.” The words were a shock, your hips automatically starting again. “Mmm. Good, pet. Just keep doing that for me.” His hand started working you again, expertly bringing the knot of warmth to the forefront until all you could think about was how badly you wanted to cum.

A few more moments and you felt the dam break, your walls clenching hard around Diavolo as your release tore through you, pulling him down with you. He held your hips tight to his and he emptied himself into you, the rumble of a growl in his chest where you were pressed against him, his nose buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You groaned, walls twitching again as you felt teeth press into the flesh, not hurting, just the pressure of a bite and the warmth of a tongue tasting the flesh.

As he pulled away, you moved to get off his lap. It took some help from him, and he kept his hands on your hips after you were standing, letting you get your balance back. You shuffled somewhat awkwardly to get your pants back in place, envious of the apparent ease he put himself back to rights. As you gathered the rest of your things to go, you noticed him putting the practice sheets into the trash, strangely enough, your newly written report on top.

”Diavolo, sir?” He glanced up at you. “Aren’t you throwing the wrong copy away?”

He grinned broadly at you. “Oh! No, I didn’t actually need it, I just thought it would be a fun way to get you in my office for a few hours. A little birdie told me you were interested and I thought to see if it was true.” That’s it, you were killing Asmo as soon as you got home. Okay, maybe a shower first, but a close second.

He held up another paper, the writing not yours, but somehow even worse. “Have you seen Lucifer’s writing? Yours is a cakewalk in comparison.”

[joeys-piano]

Joey’s Writing Process - Questionnaire

Was inspired by an authortube questionnaire tag thingy from YouTube and wanted to answer those questions and post them here~

You could say I was tagged by Kelley Tai from the authortube community because I decided to do this after hearing her responses to these questions ^^

What genres do you write?

Being someone who doesn’t write for a specific genre in mind, I dabble in everything and anything -- depending on the concept in my mind. But during the past few months, I can summarize that most of my works would be considered contemporary. Whether it’s young adult, romance, or a few character studies I was interested in. The kinds of genres I typically play with are dependent on the fandom I’m writing for.

  What setting gets you the most productive?

I am the most productive when I’m writing in a quiet, comfortable spot. Preferably, alone because I talk while I’m writing. So because of that, I mostly write in my bedroom or private living space -- it lets me jabber on and on and read as loudly to my heart’s content.

As well, as long as I have a sturdy structure to lean my back against and a soft blanket or pillow to drape over my lap, that is my ideal writing setup as I kickback on my laptop. Somewhere during these past two semesters, I’ve conditioned myself to be my most creative when I’m on my portable laptop because my brain has associated it with “fun” and “chill time” while my workhorse, gaming laptop has been associated with “academic” and “not-so-fun stuff.”

If you have multiple story ideas, how do you go about picking which one to start on first?

The ideal response would me saying: “I’m picking the work that has the most potential, is the most fleshed out, follows the current reading trends, etc…”

But in all honesty, there’s only two criteria I use when narrowing down multiple projects: 1) how am I feeling? and 2) which one will I make time for? I know myself well enough that when I’m very interested in an idea, I will carve out time and do everything in my power to work on that story -- despite all the nonsense I have to do for life and uni. And this is dependent on how I’m currently feeling and what story ideas resonate with that feeling.

I’m well aware that as creatives, it’s unwise to have our emotions dictate what we’re doing because it can make us wishy-washy and that’s how excuses crop up. I get it, I know it, I’m staring it down it down the pie hole. But in spite of this flaw, it works really well with my writing style because I’m more emotion and introspective-heavy. If I’m not feeling for what’s going on, I just shelve the idea for a while and come back to it when I’m in the right vibe. And that works well since I’m a short story writer, and it lets me pivot easily and not be stuck in a specific mood for long. I believe that’s why chapter-works are so hard for me because I’m stuck in a perpetual mood and it’s very exhausting.

  Do you outline?

I only outline as much as I need to know -- meaning that, I outline enough to get the momentum rolling and for me to put thoughts onto paper and to get the story flowing. As a pantser with recurring self-doubts, I use outlines as a way of motivation and to convince myself that an idea isn’t as (insert self-doubt) as I originally thought. Because of this approach, I love knowing what my beginning will be and I will outline the shit out of that while I leave the middle and ending up to my interpretation as I pants my way through the story and see where it naturally goes.

That’s why whenever you read my works, you’ll notice how solid the beginning is and how it meanders towards the end. Because at that point, I’m flowing by feeling and am steering the story to where it wants to go. Having this loose trajectory is great for me because I’m often inserting bridge moments or extra scenes or am embellishing something throughout the story, and that gives my stories the texture that make them a bit more exciting. 

  Do you start your first draft with pen and paper, typewriter, or computer?

I computer everything.

With how weak my finger, hand, wrist and arm nerves and muscles have been, I can’t write by hand for very long and I don’t have the funds to purchase a typewriter, the ink or the special paper that those need. So a laptop is my go-to and it saves me a lot of physical clutter. 

  What do you do to get through writer's block?

Read, watch, and listen to as much as content as I can get my hands on if I’m experiencing a creative burnout and if it’s hard for me to find ideas that I want to devote my time to. If the writer block is stemming from doubts that I have, I like to read quotes from Goodreads and to expose myself to other styles and concepts or just reading how someone worded something in a certain way. Because that expands the choices where I can take my writing or concept, and it’s motivation in its own way as I truck forward with what I’m doing.

  Do you format your project from the beginning or worry about that later?

Font: Times New Roman Font Size: 11 Font Color: White Page Color: Black Line Spacing: 1.15, space after a paragraph

Every time I open up a new word document, those are my go-to configurations for a successful write. I believe a few years ago, I read something about how writing with a dark page is easier on the eyes. So ever since I did that, I’ve never looked back.

  Do you edit as you go or when you're finished with the first draft?

Many writing advices out there say that you shouldn’t write as you go, and they have convincing reasons as to why. However, for my writing style, I do edit as I go and it’s worked really well for me -- especially since I’m a pantser. Because whenever I feel stuck, I know it’s because something earlier in the work isn’t working well for me. So I often reread and edit as I do so and revise and shape the story to where I left off and I know where to go.

It’s why I don’t have a “true” first draft. Because in actuality, different parts of my draft are in different stages of the writing process. So in a sense, I have a living draft that is whatever it wants to be.

I will say that this is much easier to handle when the work is short, but I’ve done this for 12k, 15k, 22k stories before. It’s a lot harder and it’s very exhausting, but it does work and I have systems in place to keep me moving forward.

  After finishing your drafts/manuscript how long do you give it a break before you start going back over it or do you give it a break at all?

As I mentioned in the previous question, I revise and edit as I go so it’s difficult for me to answer this question. However, I try to give myself a few hours or at least half a day away from the story before I come back to it and continue where I left off.

I will take breaks between short story projects (at least one day). But other than that, that’s it.

  Is there something that you prefer to do to get you through writing? (Playing music, tv, having your favorite drink, or food) 

I love starting my writing session by listening to some music I don’t mind repeating for a long time and listening to music that vibes with what I’m doing. And if I’m beginning a story, I like to go on Goodreads and read some opening quotes or random lines to get my gears turning as I approach my writing. If I’m picking up from where I left off, I like to reread from the beginning or from a beginning marker that I’ve left behind and go from there to where I left off so I can get back into the moment.

  Do you schedule your writing sessions?

I write whenever I can -- through pockets of time. So no, I don’t have a schedule.

However, I tend to begin stories or at least through the density of them through the morning to around the early afternoon. In the early evening and late at night, that’s when I’m loosely outlining and brainstorming new ideas because my inner-editor is a lot quieter than those periods.

  Do you have word count or chapter goals for your writing sessions?

No. However much I write, that’s how much I write.

It could be 300 words in one day, or it could be 1.8k words in one day. Wildly depends on how I’m feeling and how I’m scheduling everything else in my life around my writing.

  Are there any quirky things you do to make your projects more fun?

I did a lot of poetry before I got serious with narrative writing, so something that I do to make the writing more fun is that I incorporate poetry techniques into my stories and use that rhythm to have it interesting. This feeds into my writing habit of reading out loud as I work and because I’m stressing on how the rhythm goes and how it sounds when I hear it, much of what I write is meant for the ear -- rather than the eyes. 

  Do you work on multiple projects at one time? 

My brain can only handle one story concept at a time. Already, writing takes a lot out of me and I would run myself ragged if I had to juggle more than one in a single day.

  How often do you research what you're writing?

Depends on the work itself.

If I’m writing my first fic for a fandom or am writing for a character or pairing I’m not comfortable, I’ll research around on fandom wikipedia and read a few works from other writers to get a sense of how I could approach the character or pairing.

I’m working on a story that’s heavily involved in a certain topic or whatnot, I will go ham on that research because I want to know the rules of what I’m incorporating and how I can spin those rules to find solutions. However, it’s been a long while since I’ve done something like this.

  How do you organize your projects? 

I write in a word document whose only purpose is for me to draft, revise and edit on. After I’m finished with that story, I transfer that work onto a new word document and shelve that to a “Completed Folder.”

There’s something about having a word document purely dedicated to just the writing process, there’s something about that helps me out a lot. I don’t know what it is, but it feels like there’s magic there. There’s thousands upon thousands of blood, sweat and tears drenched into that word document and I just build upon that and let it carry me through. It’s very motivating on a primitive level.

  Do you reward or punish yourself for achieving or missing out on your writing goals?

No.

I’ve done something like this in the past and it just didn’t work out because it spiked my anxiety. I don’t know how to define my relationship with writing, but it’s definitely not that. It feels more like a friendship than a -- than a platonic BDSM, work-related creative thingy. I don’t take pleasure in pain nor pain in pleasure, so yeah. No.

  Are there any works similar to your projects that you look for and use - for inspiration and/or comparison?

Again, Goodreads quotes for inspiration. That’s about it. 

  How early do you wait to start looking for and hiring editors? 

Being that this is an authortube writing process questionnaire, it doesn’t apply to me as a fanfic writer. The equivalent to this for the fandom space would be a critique partner or a beta reader. I don’t use either. I just read my things over and slap it through an editing and grammar program before posting for others to see. And if any errors manage to slip through, I let the lucky bastards live.

  If you've finished a first draft or a manuscript. Tell us how you felt afterwards. (Pick your favorite) If you're not through the first draft yet tell us how you're feeling about it at the moment. 

I feel very calm and content after finishing the Ever Given x Suez Canal ficlet I wrote earlier this morning. Given the whirlwind experience March has been, this felt like a great well to close the month with and it was genuinely a lot of fun.

  Tag someone! 

Tagging @nightyelfy because I know you’ve published a book and I would love to see what your responses are.

[winryofresembool]

Caleo fic: Future Talk

Summary: After Calypso returns from her quest to the zoo with Apollo, she and Leo have a much needed talk.

a/n: So, I'm currently about 300 pages into The Dark Prophecy... and honestly, it's been a giant struggle for me. Specifically, the Caleo scenes have been because I expected quite a lot but got very little. I love this ship so much and I just can't quite agree with the way Rick has presented them in this book. Almost all of their scenes together are just Leo making jokes and Calypso getting mad at him and it's getting pretty tiring even for me. Luckily, it's still fixable, and that's why I decided to write this fic! I like to think that there is actually way more happening behind the scenes than what Apollo tells us, and that, yes, C&L are able to have a normal conversation. On a positive side, I think the thought of them studying together is actually kind of neat, their new Waystation family is adorable (and definitely a good match for them), and I also loved the little shoutout to the garage idea at one point of TDP! 

Rant over, now please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think because that way you'll get more Caleo (and other) content from me more easily! Dedicated to @criis55 :3

genre: fluff

words: 1458

warnings: none (TDP spoilers in case you haven’t read it)

ao3 link

...

After Calypso fainted in Leo’s arms, he and Josephine rushed her into the infirmary of Waystation. Thankfully, Jo’s treatment started working fast and when it became clear that she would be fine and Calypso convinced her she was feeling better, the older woman left the couple alone. An awkward silence fell into the room, both knowing there were many things they needed to address but not knowing how to start.

“You scared me there, Mamacita,” Leo said finally. “Are you really OK now?”

“Yes, I am. You do not have to mother me.”

Calypso realized from Leo’s expression that her response may have come out a bit harsher than she had meant, so she sighed and said: “I think we need to talk.”

“At least we agree on that,” Leo noted, sitting down on Calypso’s bed.

“We… we have been snapping at each other quite a lot lately,” she said quietly.

“We have,” Leo nodded seriously. “Do you think it’s because… well, we’ve had a lot going on since we left Ogygia?”

Calypso seemed to consider it for a moment. “Yes, that is probably a part of the reason. Not a day has passed since something dangerous has happened. I think coming here… this is the first time I feel somewhat safe. If you can call it safe when I was just almost killed at the zoo. And gods, even now there are all kinds of evil forces trying to get into this building.”

“When you go through it too many times, you start feeling dull towards it,” Leo noted. “Only so many monsters and earth goddesses you can blow up before you get bored.”

“I do not get how you can talk about that so calmly. You died, Leo,” Calypso said, sounding more upset about the thought than he had expected.

“Yeah, but I’m here now, Mamacita. Super-sized McShizzle has his ways to evade death.”

“Stop calling yourself like that, that is ridiculous,” Calypso pushed his shoulder, but Leo could see a hint of smile on her face.

“Oi, but you love me with my flaws and all. Right?” Leo’s eyes suddenly turned very serious. Truth to be told, that was the one thing he was worried about. What if… Calypso was with him just because she felt she owed him after he freed her from Ogygia… Or what if everything that had happened since they left the island had changed her opinion on him…

“Stupid. Do you think I would really still be here if I didn’t?” Calypso pointed out. “I do have my own will in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Right. Sorry. I just…”

Calypso’s expression softened. “You would think that a demigod who even beat my lovely grandmother would be surer of himself...” She put her hand on his cheek. “But believe me, I do not care about you out of obligation. I care about you for you. If I give you a hard time sometimes, it’s mainly because sometimes you do not know when to shut up. That does not mean that I don’t love you…”

Leo gave her a light kiss on the tip of her nose, a gesture surprisingly tender for him, and then rested his forehead against hers.

“Yo también te quiero... I was just worried because… I know that you leaving your home and becoming mortal and… all that…” he left consciously the part about her losing her powers out, “...has been hard on you. Sometimes when you look at me, I can see it in your face that you’re saying ‘this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you’… Which I guess is partially true, but I need to know: are you mad at me for taking you away from Ogygia?”

A silence followed, as Calypso considered her answer. “No. Not really.” She shook her head. “Yes, it is true that I left Ogygia because of you. And I do miss it sometimes. The simple, comfortable life I had there. And my powers. And maybe the thought of death scares me a bit, especially since we’ve been so close to it so many times since we left. Sometimes, when things get bad, I seem to forget it was my decision to leave. While I was with Apollo, he reminded me of that, and even though I hated to hear it… It was probably something I needed to hear. You know it is hard for me to admit I am wrong, but I’m sorry, Leo. I should not have made you feel like that. None of it is your fault; we are just… victims of the circumstances.”

“Don’t worry about it. I think I can see where you’re coming from.” Then he turned his eyes to the direction where he imagined Apollo was in that moment, looking unimpressed. “The gods really don’t want to make things easy for us, do they?”

“No, I guess not,” Calypso chuckled a bit at the irony. “Even now there is one running around as a mortal and trying to get us mixed in his mess…”

Leo couldn’t help but snort.

”You know what? When this whole thing with Apollo is over… What would you say if we stayed here? For a longer period of time? You know, you could let Jo teach you some magic and Emmie would love to have some help with the gardening…”

“And what would you do?” Calypso asked curiously. It was clear Leo had already put a lot of thought into this.

“I’m sure Jo wouldn’t mind having another mechanic around… But I think… I never expected to say this but school sounds awesomely normal right now. I haven’t been in one since the Wilderness School where I met Jason and Piper so I have some catching up to do. If you want to, I’m sure we could sign you in too, but I suppose that could be weird for you.”

Calypso seemed to consider it. “Maybe. But it could also be a good way to learn more about this world. Meet new people who do not know anything about the mess that is our lives. Make sure my boyfriend doesn’t get into trouble again. I think it sounds great!”

“You’re so rarita, Sunshine,” Leo said but couldn’t help but smile. “But I like that! Maybe it motivates me to not skip classes when I get bored of the normalcy.”

“As long as you remember that no kissing in the classroom or school corridors!”

“Aww, babe, that’s mean!” Leo protested. “You’ll have to make up for that at home, then.”

“We’ll see about that,” Calypso rolled her eyes, but there was a twinkle in them. “Anyways. I think this will be a good thing. Maybe by staying here we will have time to maintain our relationship more too.”

“Wait… did I just hear correctly?” Leo asked teasingly. “Maintain? Like a machine? I’m not sure if you’re making fun of me or if you’re trying to amuse me.”

“Well, interpret that as you wish,” Calypso smirked. “Sorry about getting so mad about your machine comparisons, though. I guess it is simply easier for you to see things that way… with you being a Hephaestus son and all…”

“Yeah…” Leo turned more serious. “I didn’t mean to offend you with that… But I’ll try to use less mechanic language around you from now on.”

“It’s OK,” Calypso said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“Anyway, I tell you what!” Leo’s face brightened again. “When we have graduated from the high school – assuming of course that we’ll survive this madness that’s going on with Apollo – then… I’d like to rethink that garage idea of ours.”

“You still think about it?” Calypso asked, surprised and kind of touched that he remembered such a detail.

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “I meant it the same way I meant it when I said I’m gonna get you from your island.”

“That’s… sweet of you.”

“Of course I also want to show you more of the world but maybe we need a short break from traveling for now. To really take some time to get to know each other better and… think about what we want and… all.”

“You are right. That sounds great,” Calypso said, seeming notably more relaxed now than before the conversation. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed happily. There was one more worry in her mind, though, so after a while she added:

“Something tells me that Apollo is going to need your help soon. You had better stay alive to keep all the promises you just made or I will come and kill you myself.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Leo laughed. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, whatever happens, I will come back. Leo Valdez always does.”

He sealed his promise with a kiss.

[ivyjlopez]

October 9, 2020, 8:19pm Q&A 101

Eight days before my birthday as of this writing. I’m actually having second thoughts if I should do a blog or a vlog. But, I do like writing and releasing my thoughts through words rather than speaking up. So, as I’m about to enter another year and continue to be an adult I’d like to start doing things I’ve wished I’ve done earlier. I do not intend to have plenty of followers in any social media platforms, the only goal is to write, encourage and lead people closer to Christ through my writings and to release the thoughts I have in my head for quite some time. Yes, I’ve always been telling people that I am an introverted gal and even so, that doesn’t mean I cannot share the gospel having this personality. Introversion is not a disease and if you know you’re one of the “introverted peeps” and is frightened to share the word by speaking up or encouraging people then share it the introverted way. You go, gal! The Lord got your back.  ;)

To begin this blogging journey, I’ve let some of my friends ask me certain questions about anything that they’d like to ask. Disclaimer, those that you’re about to read below are just based on my thoughts and opinions, and I’ve used some verses from the scriptures and will be using ‘em in my future blogs, if you’re actually opposed or you want to correct anything, feel free. So, here you go…

Question #1

Who are you?

I chose to answer this one first as a way of introducing myself a lil’ bit. So, most of my colleagues knew me as someone who’s meek, timid and quiet. But for those who are actually close to me would somehow oppose (lols). People would usually talk to me and seek advice as if I am a pro (lols kidding aside). I think it’s just that they consider me as someone worthy enough to be trusted sharing their deepest darkest secrets since I usually prefer to listen to someone’s rants and let the person do the talking cause sometimes that’s only what a person needs. Someone who’s willing to listen. I am literally not the type who does the first approach and most of the time would tag as “snobbish”. (Maybe I wasn’t really snobbish, I just didn’t see you due to my 300/400 vision. Haha.). I would definitely describe myself as someone who loves and values solitude, spends my spare time resting, reflecting, reading either at home or outdoors. I prefer to be in a small group of friends than being surrounded by the crowd. I am someone who doesn’t like the spotlight, I’d prefer to stay lowkey and not let everyone know what my next steps are. 

P.S. I might be one of the most picky person you’ll ever meet. Lols.

Question #2

Where do you want to go?

If this question pertains to travelling, I prefer land over water activities (just to add the fact that I don’t know how to swim that’s the main reason I dislike water activities). Nothing specific, it could be both local or international, I’d like to roam around places just to pass by a well-known spot and attractions, watch and appreciate the beauty of nature and sceneries, read books if possible (sort of boring to some but I’m just simply happy with this kind of thing).

Just to add up though, one of the unforgettable trips I did a year ago was at Puerto Princesa. To cut the story short it was supposedly for a two person trip turned to trio friends down to the first ever solo trip (sighs). It was my first time to be at the airport, first time to ride a plane, first time to go somewhere I’ve never been, first time to plan my own itinerary Onset (lols). Am I lonely during my whole stay? Definitely not (remember solitude is my forte) I was kinda nervous at first but it was suddenly replaced by excitement. I’ve met new people along the trip, my eyes were able to capture beautiful sceneries, I was able to eat and enjoy my breakfast without rushing. I didn’t do much activities on those days but my heart and soul was truly grateful and joyful. And it made me even realized, I am indeed capable of doing things on my own, going to a certain place on my own and just being on my own. Do not equate being alone to being lonely. I was planning to go back this year however, this isn’t the best time yet. Looking forward to visiting that place again and to more other places and countries soon.

But at the end of the day, as some would say, “there’s no place like home” - I will always end up with my comfort place which is, home. (But more than the home I have here on earth, I’m also one of those people who looks forward to coming home with the One who created humanity.)

Question #3

Is it really painful to be left behind?

Without a single thought - Yes. 

If it is for someone who passed away, the grief that anyone feels couldn’t be covered up by any comforting words even by the wisest person you knew. Just let the person grieve for now and do its work then healing will follow. Pray for that person too.

If it is for those who left in order to move out or pursue a career it would also be painful for those family members and close friends to see you go. But as for me, if you are in faith and I see you brave enough to explore the unknown, you will always have my support. It’ll be sad for a while. But we have to remember that sometimes letting a person go is also a way of showing our love and support. Let the person grow on his/her own.

Breakup - unquestionably painful. Why? Imagine not talking to the person you thought you’d end up marrying? Those plans you guys made will now be redirected to a different person. Same thing with losing a loved one because of death, this too needs a grieving phase. Cry as much as you want then stand up again. At the end of the day, you’ll just laugh it off (swear) forgiveness and acceptance will be your last destination.

Question #4

Lessons after the breakup

A lot actually (this might consume the entire space lols).

First, your happiness shouldn’t be dependent on a certain person.

Second, never allow yourself to be an option, you deserve to be a priority too.

Third, having the same personality doesn’t guarantee long-term commitment.

Fourth, never let a day pass by without fixing your arguments.

Fifth, communicate and choose to understand.

Sixth, shares the same faith and beliefs (it should always be a Christ-centered relationship).

Seventh, be consistent while both of you are still a work in-progress.

Eight, be honest. I’d prefer someone who tells the truth and does not sugar-coat.

Ninth, choose the people you’re hanging out with and/or seeking help or advise. Not everyone you call a friend is indeed a genuine friend. (It is written in 1 Corinthians 15:33 Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals”)

Tenth, choose to forgive always, everybody deserves to be forgiven. Acceptance will always be around the corner once you’ve gone through the right stages of moving on. 

(I’ll be cutting it off right here cause there’s quite a lot that I’d like to write. Haha. I might write a separate blog for this. Stay tuned. Lols)

Question #5

How to stay positive in life? 

We can’t stay positive all the time. Even the strongest and the most optimistic person that you know will have his/her own downcasted moments and that is okay. Coming from someone who actually thinks negatively this question is kinda tough to answer (haha) but as for me, do not let negative thoughts overwhelm you to the point that it is already consuming you. Sometimes those thoughts are all in the mind and you’re just giving yourself a reason to create a problem that does not even exist. Surround yourself with people who will inspire and motivate you to do better, unfollow pages in social media that will trigger your anxiety, disconnect from people that are not helping you grow, stop looking up to idols and conforming to the pattern of this world, break the bad habits that you always knew you needed to stop doing. Keep it a habit to continually pray, always look up to God’s word prior seeking advice to your closest friends or bursting it all out in social media. If you are to seek counselling, ensure that it is from someone who will not tolerate you doing evil deeds. Read self-help books, open your bible, don't let the dust embrace it. Listen to calm music, it’ll help. Remember that you are loved and blessed. (Philippians 4: 6-7) 

(Thank you for your questions Jonnabae, Angge, Dani and Adreng) I’ll be posting the rest of the other questions and my response of course next week. :)

[tepre]

Do you have any advice on finishing a story & having the courage of posting it? I don't mean to bother but idk why you're the first author I thought of.

OH EXCELLENT QUESTION!! Ok disclaimer, this answer won’t be groundbreaking, but all the same. 

In literary theory there’s usually a hardline distinction between the AUTHOR and the IMPLIED NARRATOR. The idea behind that is that the author is a real person and we can’t say anything about them or their motivations or thoughts as long as they’re not in the room. The IMPLIED NARRATOR is the imaginary character/voice who’s telling you the story. When I write, ‘Draco’s walk was a brisk, cold line that cut quickly across the room’, there’s the me who writes it, sitting in bed eating soggy oats and trying not to think about how I need to fold the wash already, and then there’s the voice YOU hear/imagine, how they’re a disembodied entity, with a clipped accent, and a purpose, and is probably NEVER distracted by anything and isn’t sitting in bed and CERTAINLY not eating soggy oats. 

It’s a narrator. The voice in an audio book. And it’s this narrator voice that throws us the fuck off, as readers who are also writers, because what we don’t hear in that narration is the CACOPHONY of layered voices that made a sentence what it is: all the literature the writer has read to inspire them, the conversations they’ve had that inspired them, the voices of friends or cheerleaders or betas or editors going over and over and over, “maybe add--?” “better delete--” “perhaps rephrase the--” 

So my advice is: remember that writing is not a solitary sport, and that there is no fixed timeline for any length of story to be finished. Some authors write entire manuscripts in a week (this does not mean they’re good), but also some of the best short stories I’ve read I know took over 10 years to get right. The book/fic you read is like watching a play: everyone in the audience understands the stage is a DISPLAY of work, and that none of the players wandered onto stage at random and went ‘haha what’s this anyway here’s a monologue :)’. I would say, FOR ME, the most valuable thing I learned as a writer was to let other people in. Usually I set a word-limit in that: once I hit 10K, someone else will get to read it (or something). Make sure you let this person know what you’re looking for: just excitement, or also content-related questions, or no questions at all, etc. This isn’t editorial yet. This is just LETTING someone sit with you. 

For me, this helps a lot in the process of finishing. Having someone else care about The Thing. On a more practical note: if it’s the getting-words-on-paper part that’s the issue, then my go-to trick is setting VERY LOW daily word counts. 150 words a day, every day. Or 250. Or 50. It doesn’t matter. The first few days you’ll just do the 150 you’ve set for yourself and that’d be that. And then eventually you’ll go over that limit, and then suddenly you’ll go WAY over, or you’ll finish the thing, or something. Or you’ll just 150-a-day your way until the finish line. 

If habitual hyper-editing of what you’ve written so far is your main problem, then try this: copy paste the last sentence into a new document, and continue writing from there. Then you don’t have to open the old document every time and you won’t be tempted to edit before you finish. 

NOW, as for the posting: once you’ve finished, pick a day. If it’s a short thing, of COURSE you can post it on the same day, but in terms of finding the courage?? Picking a day in the near future helps for me. Then I prepare everything, I have my draft ready, I’ve re-done the summary a million times, re-written the tags even more, I have my notes, my formatted text, all of it. And then I just wait for the day and the time I’ve decided and all there’s left is to just click post. Tell someone you’re gonna do this. Have them hold your hand. 

Literally every single author you’ve read and enjoyed has shat bricks over the thing they’re about to post/their novel. I think every single one of my works is THE WORST THING I’VE EVER PRODUCED the moment I post it. And then, as comments come in, if they’re positive, I think everyone is lying. When they’re not, I’m like, I KNEW IT. And then that passes. Usually, when the anxiety is Extra, I try to make everything smaller than it feels in that moment: if ONE of my friends like it, then it’s a success. If ONE person I don’t know yet likes it, even better!! If NO ONE likes it, then that’s also a sort of success, because I put it out there, and that’s hard for me, so yeah. Like that! Rather than try and recreate an entire literary genre in a fic, I try to break it down to the things that matter to me: my friends, my creative education, my ability to get better. 

HOPE THIS HELPS, FRIEND!! ALSO JSYK, I EDITED THIS POST LIKE 300 TIMES SO YEAH IT NEVER ENDS HAHA

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 37: Fourteen Million, Six Hundred and Five...

Intro: The World’s Mightiest heroes are scattered across the universe: Steve leads his team into battle alongside T’Challa in Wakanda, Thor, Rocket and Groot arrive on Nidavellir and Tony, Strange and Spiderman head to Titan where they encounter the remaining Guardians and form a plan to take down Thanos on his home planet.

But, as the saying goes...united we stand, divided we fall...

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

 Oh how Thor missed his hammer! How had it all gone so terribly wrong? He’d left Earth and his friends 3 years ago to go hunting those stones and had failed, miserably. Now his Father was dead, his brother was dead, Heimdel was dead, half his people were dead, his home planet was gone, he only had one eye...and if he didn’t stop Thanos then his friends on Earth weren’t going to fare much better than the ones on Asgard had.

"So, dead brother, huh?"  Thor looked up to see the rabbit was stood a few feet away, pressing buttons on a screen "Yeah that can be annoying."

“Well, he's been dead before," Thor huffed, "But this time, I think it really might be true."

"And you said that your sister and your dad?"

"Both dead." 

"You guys still got a mom, though?" The Rabbit pressed

"Killed by a dark elf."

"Best friend?"

"Stabbed through the heart." Thor answered softly.

"And you sure you're up for this particular murder mission?" Rocket asked, frowning slightly.

"Absolutely!" Thor forced a smile, as he looked at the animal "Rage and vengeance, anger, loss, regret. They're all tremendous motivators. They really clear the mind. So I’m err, good to go.” he said, making a fist and smiling slightly.

"Yeah, but this is Thanos we're talking about he's the toughest there is."

"Well, he's never fought me." Thor deadpanned.

"Yeah, he has." Rocket shrugged, and Thor took a deep breath.

"Well, he's never fought me twice. And I'll be getting a new hammer, don't forget."

"Well, it'd better be some hammer."

"You know, I'm fifteen hundred years old," Thor began, looking at nothing in particular as he pondered over things.  "I've killed twice as many enemies and every enemy I have faced would have rather killed me, but none succeeded. I am only still alive because fate wants me to be." At that he paused and couldn’t help but smile at a conversation he had had with the Captain about fate bringing him and Little Stark together. The Captain didn’t believe in fate, but he did. "Thanos is just the latest in a long line of bastards, and he'll be the latest to feel my vengeance.” Thor nodded firmly as he concluded “Fate wills it so." 

"Mhm", Rocket hummed hesitating, but he knew he had to ask, "And what if you're wrong?"

"Well if I'm wrong, what else could I lose?" Thor sniffed, and wiped at the tear that had escaped from his eye before he headed to the front of the pod to take a seat.

"Well, if fate does want you to kill that crapsack, you're gonna need more than one stupid eyeball." Rocket said, holding out his hand as he headed to the seat in front of Thor.

"What's this?" Thor frowned, eyeing the object that the rabbit had given him.

"What's it look like? Some jerk lost a bet with me in Contraxia."

"He gave you his eye in return?" Thor frowned.

"No, he gave me 100 credits. I snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye."

"Thank you, sweet rabbit," Thor smiled, pulling the patch off of his left eye to push the eyeball into the socket.

Rocket grimaced "I would've washed that. The only way I could sneak it off Contraxia was up my-" He was cut off as an alarm started, "Hey we're here."

Thor frowned as he stood up to get a closer look out of the front of the pod. "I don't think this thing works," he said slapping at the side of his head, his new eye spinning in the socket "Everything seems dark."

"That's not the eye." Rocket said.

They docked and slowly made their way off the pod and carefully made their walked across the dark terrain of the planet.

"I hope these dwarves are better at forging than they are at cleaning," Rocket looked around at the junk that lay all over the place. “Maybe they realized they live in a junk pile in the middle of space."

"The forge hasn't gone dark in centuries." Thor said as he looked around, something was very, very wrong.

"You said Thanos had a gauntlet, right?" Rocket stopped walking.

"Yes. Why?" Thor asked, searching the sky. For what he didn’t know.

"Did it look anything like that?"

He looked over to where Rocket was pointing and his blood ran cold as he saw, sitting upon one of the stone tables, a mould for the gauntlet Thanos was wearing when he attacked his ship. Suddenly, realisation washed over him.

Thanos had been here..and that wasn’t good. At all. In fact it was about as far from good as anything could be. 

"I am Groot?"

"Go back to the pod," Thor commanded before something struck him hard and he went flying through the air as Rocket and Groot scattered in the opposite direction.

Thor pushed himself up, and turning round he saw the large mass coming towards him. Scrambling backwards he fell back against something hard and held his hands up, palms open in a placating manner.

"Eitri, wait!" he called loudly "Stop! It’s me!”

"Thor?" The Dwarf paused, fist still raised as Thor gave a node. “Is that you?”

There was a pause and the Dwarf dropped his hand slightly. Thor swallowed and looked up at him, taking a deep breath. "What happened here?" The god asked.

"You were supposed to protect us!" the Dwarf cried, his voice cracking "Asgard was supposed to protect us!"

"Asgard is destroyed," Thor choked out, getting to his feet. He pointed to the gauntlet on the table. "Eitri the glove, what did you do?"

Eitri let out a shuddering breath as he stumbling over to a wall and fell heavily upon it, sliding down to the floor, "300 dwarves lived on this ring. I thought if I did what he asked, they'd be safe. I made what he wanted. A device capable of harnessing the power of the stones. And he killed everyone anyway. All except me. 'Your life is yours,' he said. 'But your hands...your hands are mine alone.'" with that the dwarf raised both his hands and Thor felt his eyes widen as he saw they were covered in in metal from the forge.

Thor paused, but then he shook his head. No, this wouldn’t do. He needed a new hammer. There had to be a way.

“Even in the word can’t there’s the word can…” Little Stark’s voice echoed in his head, a line he had heard her say once to Barton just before the archer had thrown a pop tart at her head…man he would kill for a pop tart right now. 

But no, she was right. He wasn’t giving up

"Eitri, this isn't about your hands," Thor said shaking his head, "Every weapon you've ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword it's all inside your head. Now I know it feels like all hope is lost. Trust me, I know. But together, we can kill Thanos."

***** Tony, Peter and Dr Strange had arrived on Titan. But they were greeted with a not-so-welcoming party. After a bit of a struggle, Tony had some blue faced dude on his back, repulsor raised whilst one of the other guys had Peter in a headlock, gun pointed at his head. As they faced off against each other, the man pointing the gun at Peter spoke.

“Alright, everybody, stay where you are... chill the eff out.” and his helmet disappeared to reveal a dark haired man, his eyes darted across the three of them. “I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where's Gamora?” What the fuck? Tony gave a groan of exasperation as he removed his helmet and looked at the man. “Yeah, I'll do you one better. Who's Gamora?” “I'll do you one better!” The man under Tony’s foot spoke “Why is Gamora?!”

”Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I'm gonna French-fry this little freak.” the man tightened his hand on Peter and Tony felt his temper snap.

“Let's do it! You shoot my guy, I blast him. Let's go!” he said, extended his nano-tech cannon and pointing it straight at the guys face.

“Do it, Quill! I can take it” The man snarled at him. 

Jesus Christ it was like arguing with Rogers.

“No, he can't take it!” The woman with the strange antennae insisted.

 “She's right. You can't” Dr Strange but in, completely deadpan, his tone bored.

“Oh yeah? You don't wanna tell me where she is? That's fine. I'll kill all three of you and beat it out of Thanos myself.” The man they now knew to be Quill said, turning to Peter “Starting with you.”

 “Wait, what. Thanos?” Before Tony could say anything, Strange beat him to it Alright, let me ask you this one time: What master do you serve?”

”What master do I serve?” Quill looked at him, sarcasm dripping from his voice and body language “What am I supposed to say? "Jesus"?”

“You're from Earth?” Tony said, looking at him, suddenly cottoning on.

“I'm not from Earth. I'm from Missouri”

“Yeah, that's on Earth, dip-shit.” Tony spat, with the tone of someone talking to a very, very stupid person, which in all fairness he appeared to be doing “What are you hassling us for?”

“So, you're not with Thanos?”  Parker spoke for the first time.

“WITH Thanos?!” Quill scoffed indignantly “No, I'm here to kill Thanos! He took my girl. Wait... who are you?”

“We're the Avengers, man.” Parker said, removing his helmet and mask.

“Oh” Quill said, relaxing his hold a little.

“You're the ones Thor told us about!” the bug looking woman exclaimed excitedly. 

“You know Thor!?” Tony whipped round to face her, barely keeping the excitement out of his voice. They could use Point Break, man could they use him...

 “Yeah. Tall guy, not that good-looking,” Quill said as Parker gave him an incredulous look, “needed saving.”

 Dr Strange paused before he asked the question Tony was dying to know the answer to “Where is he now?”

“Took my pod, my food, my rucksack and went off to find a new hammer or something else to kill Thanos with.” Quill shrugged as he released Parker completely. Dr Strange and Tony exchanged a crestfallen look. It didn’t appear like they were going to get any help from Thor where they were but maybe, just maybe, the rest of the Avengers would.

As they were now allies of sorts, the group all introduced themselves properly and Quill began to walk around the ground, holding out some kind of scanner, or spirit measure, Tony wasn’t sure which.

“What the heck happened to this planet? It's eight degrees off its axis.” he muttered “Gravitational pull is all over the place” In the background Mantis was jumping up and down, floating higher than she should have been able to.

“Yeah, we got one advantage. He's coming to us. We'll use it.” Tony said, as the idea formed in his mind. “All right, I have a plan” he said, looking round at the group “ Or at least the beginnings of one. It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don't wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet.”

At that Drax gave a loud yawn and Tony glared at him.

 “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I'm breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

“I stopped listening after you said, "We need a plan." Drax shrugged honestly

“Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page.” Tony looked at Quill for help.

“See, "not winging it" isn't really what they do” Quill said, almost apologetically.

“Uh, what exactly is it that they do?” Parker asked.

“Kick names, take ass.” Mantis replied with all the ferocity of an eight week old kitten.

“Yeah, that's right” Drax nodded as he settled into a stance, facing the remaining Avengers.

Right there Tony took it all back. This was nothing like trying to deal with Rogers. Cap was smart, Cap would listen, Cap would get them to listen too. As Tony paused, for the first time in ages actually wishing Rogers was in front of him, an expression of deep hopelessness crossed his face before he spoke again “Alright, just get over here, please. Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?”

"Mr. Lord..Star-Lord is fine.” Quill motioned to Drax and Mantis to come and listen.

“We gotta coalesce.” Tony tried again in a softer voice. “ 'Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude...”

“Dude, don't call us plucky. We don't know what it means.” Quill shook his head, “Alright, we're optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good.”

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe.” Drax interjected.

“What dance-off?” Tony frowned.

“It’s not a... it's not... it's nothing” Quill shook his head.

“Like in Footloose, the movie?” Parker interjected.

“Exactly like Footloose!” Quill looked at him excitedly “Is it still the greatest movie in history?

“It never was.” 

“Don't encourage this, alright?” Tony rounded on the kid as Quill wore an expression that looked like the wind had been completely sucked out of his sails. “We're getting no help from Flash Gordon here”.

“Flash Gordon? By the way, that's a compliment. Don't forget, I'm half human” Quill pointed at Tony and Peter “So that 50% of me that's stupid? That's 100% you.”

“Your math is blowing my mind” Tony deadpanned.

“Excuse me, but...” Mantis spoke, and Tony looked at her, before his attention was taken by Strange and he frowned again. “Does your friend often do that?

The Wizard was sitting cross-legged, floating slightly above the ground, his hands poised in a mystic gesture with the Time Stone glowing brightly in the pendant round his neck. Green vapour like energy swirled around him, his cloak billowing behind, as if caught on a breeze. His head was jerking rapidly from side to side, the motion blurring, but almost like he was looking for something.

 Tony stepped towards him “Strange! We alright?”

 Suddenly Strange snapped out of his trance and fell forward, letting out a cry. Tony gently caught him.

“You're back. You're alright”

 “Hey, what was that?” Parker asked.

 “I went forward in time to view alternate futures.” Strange said, panting slightly as he caught his breath “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.

 “How many did you see?” Quill asked

 “Fourteen million, six hundred and five…”

 Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway. “How many did we win?

There was a pregnant pause as Dr Strange stared intently at him for a moment before he took a deep breath and looked Tony straight in the eyes. “One.”

*****

"How are we looking, Bruce?" Natasha said into the coms device glancing back over her shoulder, prompting Katie to do the same, where she could see the Bruce running behind the hovercrafts in the giant hulk buster suit. He’d been unable to get the Hulk to come out, so this was the next best thing.

"Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of it," Bruce responded sounding excited, "It's so amazing! Man it's like being the Hulk without actually..." he was cut off as he tripped over a piece of rock jutting out of the ground and crashed to the floor. Katie sighed and turned her attention back out across the vast Wakandan land.

"I'm ok. I'm ok!"

"Steve," she said, catching her husband’s attention. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, but she found she didn’t really know what she wanted to say. Katie was worried, scared, underprepared…

"I know.” Steve responded with a soft voice, reaching round to pull her to him, his left arm over her shoulder, trying to lend her some comfort as they continued their journey, the wind whipping their hair as they sped across the plains.

Eventually the hovercrafts began to slow then came to a stop, the Wakandan warriors easily jumping off the side of the craft and falling into line.

"Alright I've got two heat signatures breaking through the treeline." Rhodey informed from high above as they all jumped down onto the grass. T'Challa in his panther suit led them toward the centremost group where the Wakandans had started up a war chant.

"Thank you for standing with us," he spoke to a large man dressed in furs getting his own block ready for battle. The man said something in their language shaking T'Challa's hand, before the king looked back at the barrier and the ships surrounding it. He looked at Steve who nodded. Katie took a deep breath and pressed the star on her bangle. The nano-particles spread up her arm, across her chest and down, encasing her completely.  Steve’s eyebrow raised at the action, a smile tugging on his lips. That was pretty impressive and the suit…well, it looked pretty damned good too.

“So that’s new.” he quipped, a sideways smile spreading across his face and she shrugged.

“Nano-tech, apparently” Katie engaged her helmet and began running her scanners “I can’t get a lock on what’s in those ships though.”

“Well, let’s go find out.” Steve said gently and along with Natasha and T’Challa they headed to the edge of the dome. The tall, blue haired woman they had grappled with in Edinburgh was there with a huge beast they hadn’t seen before, one of the ones that had attacked New York. As they watched she drew her sword across the dome which fizzled as she tested the strength, cocking her head to the side.

“Where's your other friend?” Katie asked her and Steve almost rolled his eyes at her deliberate dig. The woman glared at her.

“You will pay for his life with yours. Thanos will have that stone.”

“That's not gonna happen.” Steve’s voice soft as he spoke, not a threat as such, simply a statement as he raised his chin and looked her straight in the face.

T’Challa, however, was much more aggressive as he spoke and Katie looked at him, surprised by the normally mild mannered man’s fierce tone.

“You are in Wakanda now.” he glared at her “Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood.”

“We have blood to spare” The Woman spoke simply. She brandished her sword with a snarl and as they watched the ships behind her started raising their outer hulls.

Knowing that was about as much a conversation as they were getting, and as much of one as he wanted, Steve gestured with his head and the four of them made their way back. Steve made sure Katie and Natasha were in front of him, just in case, and every so often he threw a glance over his shoulder as the ships continued to open.

"They surrender?" Bucky asked as Steve took up his place at his best friend’s side, Katie falling in line to Steve’s right.

"Not exactly." Steve huffed.

Katie glanced round Steve over to Bucky and nodded to the gun in his hand “Sure you can handle that, sweetheart?”

Steve let out a snort and his mouth curved into a grin as he recalled Bucky saying the same thing to her 2 years previously. Bucky gave a bark of a laugh and winked at Katie who raised an eyebrow, smirking. Then the three of them turned their attention back to the edge of the dome and as they watched, a horde of what looked like mutated dogs rushed through the trees and foliage, heading straight for the barrier.

T'Challa began to chant with his army, repeating it loudly as the blue horned woman thrust her sword down and the creatures rushed forward smashing themselves into the barrier without care.

"What the hell?" Bucky muttered watching the creatures try to force themselves in but through the barrier, but every limb and body part that passed through the dome ended up being cut off.

"Looks like we pissed her off." Katie pointed out.

“Just a little.” Nat added, turning her head to look at her.

Steve remained still, observing, sizing up his opponent as ever. Some of the creatures managed to get some of their body wedged through before they were cut in half. 

"They're killing themselves," Okoye breathed in shock as the creatures carried on.

The front line of the blocks of warriors quickly raised their shields when they noticed a small handful of the creatures had actually managed to get through, their badly burnt bodies cantering across the plains towards them. With a command from T'Challa the army began firing weapons at a few that drew near.

Katie engaged her helmet and with a quick nod at Steve launched herself into the air and flew alongside Sam, twirling as she went. It felt good to be up there again, fully suited after so long. The two of them began to work in tandem, dropping missiles and bombs at the stragglers.

"You see the teeth on those things?!" Sam’s astonished voice said

"Alright, Kiddo, let’ s go. Back up, Sammy," Rhodey warned, as he flew along the edge of the dome, dropping more bombs on the creatures that were still partially getting through, "You'll get your wings singed."

Katie surged forward, taking the opposite side of the dome, engaging her shoulder cannons blasting away the ones underneath but then FRIDAY locked onto some of the creatures on either end of the swarm who had begun to make their way further from the main pile running along the outside of the barrier that circled the city.

"They're spreading out!" she called in warning.

"Cap, if these things circle the perimeter and get in behind us," Bruce echoed, "There's nothing between them and Vision."

"Then we better keep them in front of us," Steve responded calmly, his gaze not once faltering as he simply watched the edge of the dome.

"How do we do that?" Okoye scoffed.

"We open the barrier," T’Challa said with resolve. Steve turned to look at him, taking a deep breath. "On my signal, open Northwest Section 17."

“Requesting confirmation my king…you said open the barrier?”

"On my signal." He said again, issuing instructions.

Steve lifted his arms, engaging the shields that T’Challa had given him, as Sam and Katie continued to circle high up, shooting a few more strays before they flew over the assembled troops, hovering and waiting for the command.  

T’Challa stepped forward before the armies, crossing his arms before his chest, "Wakanda forever!" he cried out.

"Wakanda forever!" was the answering shout from his people before they all took off running for the barrier.

"NOW!" T'Challa shouted into his communicator, and a small portion of the barrier opened, allowing the creatures to spill in.

Black Panther and Steve began to forge ahead of the running army at super speed, the two of them sprinting in unison. As they reached a shallow stream they both launched themselves up and over, propelling themselves at the creatures and from there the battle was on.

Katie was swooping, shooting, diving, looping, taking out as many of the creatures as she could. The weapons upgrades Tony had made were amazing. She had the ability to turn her gauntlet into a sword of sorts, she had a shield, guns…you name it and FRIDAY was on hand to remind her exactly what she had and automatically use them when needed. All in all, it was the best Supernova suit her brother had ever developed, and she felt hopeful that his latest Iron Man one would be good enough to keep him safe wherever he was.

Steve, meanwhile, was hammering the pointed end of his shield into any of the creatures that came near enough. Bucky was gunning any down that came towards him, the Wakandan Warriors were using their spears and guns… the animals weren’t hard to take down, a decent shot to the head did it, but they were persistent and there was so damned many of them.

"How much longer, Shuri?" T'Challa’s voice rang in Steve’s ear as he kicked another one of the animals straight in the mouth sending it flying.

"We've barely begun, brother," was the response.

"You might want to pick up the pace!" he said urgently

“Please do…” Steve found himself muttering as he pounded another.

*****

Thor had managed to get the Forge started again, using the pod and a large rope to pull the stuck rings into a spin, but then the iris had snapped, leaving nothing for it, but him to open it himself.

“Allfathers, give me strength” he mumbled as he rolled his shoulders preparing to grab either side of the iris.

“You understand, boy?” Eitri said, warning him “You're about to take the full force of a star. It'll kill you.”

“Only if I die.” Thor cracked his neck as he took a deep breath. He had to survive, fate willed it, he was going to kill Thanos.  

”Yes. That's what... "killing you" means.” Eitri frowned, utterly boggled at  Thor’s words.

Thor pulled down on the two levers, bringing them towards him and the iris began to open. The stream of pure stellar energy blasted past him and into the forge once more. Thor grit his teeth as the force of the full blast of the star burned through him, like nothing he had ever felt before.

“Hold it! Hold it, Thor!”

The metal ingots began to melt and Thor let out a yell as he felt his skin burning, until he could hold it no more and his grip slipped. He fell down into the forge, bouncing limply off a structure and landing on the floor, harshly as Rocket, who had followed in the pod, grimaced. The thud Thor’s body made as it landed was was enough to make Groot look up from his game.

“Thor! Say something. Come on. Thor, you okay?” Rocket asked, looking at the God who looked as far from okay as you could get.

Eitri was clumsily and urgently pulling the mould, which was still glowing red hot onto the floor and broke it loose from the frame, punching it with his metal fists to free the axe head.

“I think he's dying!” Rocket said, looking up urgently for help

“He needs the axe!” Eitri said, frantically “Where's the handle? Tree, help me find the handle!”

As the two sides of the axe head lay glowing on the floor, Groot looked sadly at Thor as Eitri was desperately looking for the handle. Then, realising he could help, the tree scowled with determination and stood, extending his fingers towards Stormbreaker, growing them at extraordinary speed. As he twined them around the two parts, he cried out at the burning pain but didn’t hesitate, slamming them together and locking them permanently into one structure by winding the growing vines around them. He raised it high above his head and with a mighty cry chopped his extended arm with the other hand to sever it.

Thor lay motionless, but then his fingers twitched, and the new weapon levitated in a crackle of lightning echoed by the sparks between the God’s fingers…

***** Katie had no idea how many of the dog like animals she shot, or how long they had been at it. As she glanced around she spotted Steve was locked in combat with four of them, smashing into them with his shields, his face contorted in anger and concentration. She shot a ray taking off a few to try and give him a reprieve, but even more appeared and then something collided with her, taking her down to the ground with a crash. As she went to get up she was suddenly swamped. FRIDAY engaged the shield and it kept the most of them from gnashing at her with their ridiculously long teeth, but the sheer volume was preventing her from getting up. Shooting her thrusters she managed to take another few out, but the weight of them meant she merely moved herself backwards along the ground, she could get no height at all.

"There's too many of them." Bruce yelled into the coms echoing what everyone was already feeling. Steve was now that surrounded he could do nothing now but shield his face and lash out with his legs.

Katie shot again at the ones on top of her, but it was no good.

“FRIDAY…we got anything in this arsenal.” she yelled desperately.

A yell came from Bruce just as the AI answered. “I can super charge the cannon… but it will leave your weapons at 50% capacity…”

Before Katie could respond there was another loud whoosh and blast but this one was different and oddly familiar. Through the gaps the animals left she could just see a huge flash of flowing light, that was punctuated by a bright spectrum and then the animals that had been on top of Katie were gone as something flew around, knocking them off, leaving them dead on the ground, their bodies writhing under the shock of blue lighting.

She lay still for a moment, her chest heaving before she sat up, her helmet sliding away as she looked round with a smile, because she knew there was only one possible person who could do such a thing.

Steve found himself free and sat up, just in time to hear Banner laughing "Oh, you guys are so screwed now!" and he heard Katie’s loud exclamation of glee as the weapon, a huge axe, flew back to its owner. The beam of light in the middle of the field dissipated to reveal Thor, and rather randomly a Raccoon with a gun, and a tree creature standing by his side.

Katie landed softly beside Steve and she pulled him to his feet, her eyes shining with emotion before the pair of them spun to watch as Thor took one glance around the battlefield steely determination in his eyes as he turned his focus to where two of Thanos' warriors were.

"Bring me Thanos!" he demanded as he ran forward, slamming his axe against one of the nearest creatures, sending it flying away.

Katie looked at Steve again, both of them sharing as somewhat more hopeful glance, before they turned their attention back to the fight.

*****

Thanos had arrived on Titan, and boy was he a force to be reckoned with. He was huge, and even without the stones Tony had a feeling he would have been impossible to beat. Nevertheless, they had banded together, putting the plan into action, and had gained another ally in a blue woman. He had no idea who she was, but the Guardians did, and she was on their side so he didn’t question it. They needed all the help they could get. .

Finally, Dr Strange opened a portal, dropping Mantis down onto Thanos’ shoulders. She grasped his head with her hands and focussed her telepathic energy through her fingers, the tips of her antennae lighting up.

“Is he under?” Tony asked, pulling on the bonds he had Thanos’ arm in “Don’t let up.” “Be quick!” Mantis said, starting to cry “He is very strong.”

“Parker, help! Get over here” Tony said as he grabbed hold of the gauntlet. Peter moved to help him. “She can't hold him much longer. Let's go.”

Quill landed in front of Thanos, grinning as he began to taunt the Titan “I thought you'd be harder to catch. For the record, this was my plan. Not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?”

“My... Gamora...” Thanos grit out, groaning as Mantis kept him under control

“Oh, bullshit.” Quill shook his head “ Where is she?”

Mantis gave a small cry “He is in anguish.”

“Good.” Quill glared at him whilst Tony and Peter were still wrestling with the gauntlet.

“He… he… mourns” her cry was louder this time.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax ground out, his voice strained with the effort of keeping hold of Thanos’ other arm.

It was Nebula who answered, her eyes shining with tears “Gamora”.

”What?” Quill looked at her and Tony glanced up, a cold feeling spreading across his stomach.

“He took her to Vormir” Nebula whispered, horror flooding her body and face as she understood exactly what happened “He came back with the Soul Stone, but she didn't.”

Tony grasped the danger of the situation and immediately withdrew his helmet and looked at Quill “Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now, you understand?

But the man wasn’t listening. He turned slowly to Thanos so Tony tried again, shouting his plea desperately. “Don't, don't, don't engage, we've almost got this off!”

“Tell me she's lying.” Quill shook his head before his voice became enraged “ASSHOLE! Tell me you didn't do it!”

 “I... had... to” Thanos replied.

.“No, you didn't.” Quill said gently, his eyes filling with tears. “No, you didn't…”

Tony watched as the man continued to rage, and then, before they could do anything he drew his hand back and pistol-whipped Thanos twice in the face, causing Mantis to let go. “NO, YOU DIDN'T!”

“Quill!! Tony gave a yell as he leaped for the man’s arm, his helmet forming back around his head, but by doing so he left Parker alone to keep pulling the gauntlet. As Tony tried to calm quill down he was vaguely aware that Peter was shouting about the fact he had the gauntlet, but as Tony turned he saw Thanos snap out of his trance. He head-butted Mantis, before grabbing the edge of the gauntlet and throwing the woman off his shoulders.

They’d come so close, but their plan hadn’t worked. And now the fight was back on. 

*****

Bucky had heard tales of Thor from both Steve and Katie, but seeing the man in person and his power was like nothing he could have possibly imagined. Not least because he seemed to have brought a walking, talking tree and raccoon with him. A racoon that was now stood shooting a gun into the crowd of creatures.

“Come get some space dogs!” the racoon fired his weapon and Bucky, who was a few feet behind him, spotted one of the dog things leaping at him. He grabbed the animal by the scruff of his jacket and held him at arms length, spinning around, firing his own M-249 at the same time.

“Come on, get some, get some, GET SOME!” The racoon yelled, before they were clear and Bucky dropped him. He looked up at Bucky with an impressed gleam in his eyes. Fuck, an impressed raccoon? Jesus Christ, Steve dragged him into the strangest shit at times.

“How much for the gun?” The racoon asked as Bucky fired off another burst of rapid fire.

“Not for sale.” Bucky said simply.

“Okay, how much for the arm?”

The animal wanted his arm. Bucky had no words, he just gave him a look and as he walked off he heard the racoon mumble “Oh, I'll get that arm.” and despite himself, Bucky gave a little snort as he jogged to where he was needed.

At the same time, elsewhere on the field, Steve and Katie were fighting in tandem. Steve slammed a shield into another two creatures as they leapt at them both whilst Katie jumped into the air, shooting and taking down another four. Just as the next group was about to hit them, another shockwave rocked the field, destroying the pack which was running towards them. Katie looked around to Thor who was stood a few feet away and she landed gently between him and Steve.

"New haircut?" Steve asked, his voice slightly winded as Katie retracted her helmet.

"I notice you've copied my beard," Thor shot back, grabbing at his chin with his hand. Steve nodded, and gestured to his face with one of his shields, still catching his breath. At that point he looked past Thor to see the tree creature at his other side extending a branch or arm and impaling three creatures on it, lifting them into the air. Something that should have shocked Steve, but he wasn’t sure if anything could shock him anymore.

"Oh, by the way, this is a friend of mine, Tree." Thor gestured to the creature.

"I am Groot!" the tree yelled, slamming the creatures to the floor.

Katie looked at Steve who was breathing hard from the exertion of battle. But still, ever the gentleman, he introduced himself politely to the tree-boy in return placing a hand to his chest.

"I am Steve Rogers." he paused looking around the battlefield seeing that at least for a moment they were in a respite with the Wakandan warriors handling the Outriders surrounding them. Katie observed Thor for another second before he grinned at her and she threw herself at him.

“Man am I glad to see you, I thought…” she stumbled over her words.

“I’m fine.” He said, reaching out to wrap an arm round her metal cased back and returned her embrace, lifting her slightly off the floor as he did so.

“But Banner, he said your ship…and Loki…”

“I’m the God of Thunder.” He said, shrugging slightly as if that explained anything, and then he sent his axe flying once more and set Katie down, as a pack began to surround the three. Katie reengaged her helmet and they continued fighting.

“What happened to your hammer?” Steve asked as the three of them circled, before he took another creature down with a blow to the head.

“My sister.” Thor grunted, throwing his axe again.

“You have a sister?” Katie frowned, shooting another creature with a beam.

“Had. She’s dead. I killed her. Well, a big fire demon did. The events of Ragnarok.” Thor caught his axe before swinging it straight into the head of one who had jumped at him “I thought Banner might have told you?”

“He mentioned it yeah, but to be honest we’ve kinda been a bit busy.” Katie’s teeth grit together as she off-loaded a shot from her shoulder gun to a creature which hit it straight between the eyes. It slumped to the floor but at the same time the ground began to shake.

“That’s errr…that’s not me.” Thor shook his head as Steve looked at him. The three of them turned to watch as the trees outside the barrier began falling being crushed by whatever was coming, then the dirt underneath the inside of the barrier moved like a wave and from it mechanical wheels like chainsaws sprung up.

"Fall back!" T'Challa’s loud voice sounded in their ears as the wheels separated, "Fall back now!"

“GO!” Steve yelled, looking at Katie and she shot up into the air. As she flew over the field she looked down and saw the wheels split all going in different directions taking out the creatures and Wakandan warriors alike with ease. The machines didn't seem to have any particular form of control or direction, just mowing down anyone in its path. She looked up as Sam and Rhodey joined her on either side.

“FRIDAY scan this thing for weaknesses…” Katie instructed. “The axle.” FRIDAY said, focussing in on it on the heads up display “You need to take it out.” “Go for the axle guys!” Katie swooped down. “Same time…” "Focus all fire on the left flank" Rhodey ordered as they began to shoot their various weapons.

"I'm doing it," Sam replied firing his guns where he was instructed but it was having little effect. Eventually, they managed to take one wheel down but as Katie circled up she saw that Natasha and General Okoye were right in it’s path, but so absorbed in the battle that they almost missed the set of chainsaw wheels coming straight for them, almost. Katie yelled a warning over the coms and was about to swoop down to pull them both out of harms way when suddenly Wanda dropped down in front of the other two women and surrounded the wheels in her red glow. She lifted them up lifting it up into the air then grunted throwing it back at a swarm of Outriders.

As Katie spiralled back upwards Okoye’s frustrated voice hit her ears. “Why was she up there all this time?" she huffed.

It was a boost having her on the field, Okoye was right. But the unease in Katie’s chest was rising as her being down there meant it left Vision open. Katie and Rhodey went back to try and take on another one of the huge wheels, managing to bring it down, but then they both stopped dead as Sam’s urgent voice called out "Guys, we got a Vision situation here!"

Katie looked over in the direction of the palace, just in time to see the android crashing out of the glass

"Somebody get to Vision!" Steve instructed loudly, before he was sideswiped by another of those damned dog things.

"I got him," Bruce responded

"On my way," Wanda’s voice also said. Katie turned to find her on the field, and as she did she saw one of Thanos’ warriors hit her hard across the face with her staff and she fell into one of the large trenches that the chainsaw-like wheels of the machine had created.

Katie swooped down to help, Natasha also sprinting across the field, sliding down into the trench behind the blue woman. As Wanda struggled to her feet, Katie landed next to Natasha.

"He will die alone," the blue woman growled at Wanda, and then to add even more insult added, "As will you."

"She's not alone." Natasha said simply. The woman turned around to see Natasha and Katie there, and then at the other side of her Okoye landed, spinning her spear, pointing it at the horned alien.

There was a slight pause before the alien growled and launched at them. Okoye was the first to be tossed aside, after getting a few good hits in, whilst Natasha and Katie continued to fight. As the alien leapt at Katie, she shot upwards, aiming a beam and a kick to the alien’s head. In the melee, Natasha was hit by a blow to the chest, sending her flying backwards and off to the left. Katie landed in front of her, sending a beam at the advancing alien’s chest, causing her to stumble, and before she could right herself and come at Katie again, she flew upwards, encased in a ball of red, straight into the path of one of the chainsaw wheels where she was easily sliced in half sending a spray of blue blood straight across Katie’s helmet visor and Natasha’s face.

"That's really gross." Nat said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking at Wanda who dropped to the floor, exhausted. Katie wiped the blood off her visor as she landed and pulled Natasha to her feet before she turned to Wanda.

“You ok?” Katie asked the younger woman and she nodded before she stood up

“We need to get to Vision.” she urged.

“Alright.” Katie nodded and turned to face the other women behind her “I’ll cover you all as best I can but if one goes down the rest keep going.” she said, “Our priority is that stone.”

They all nodded and Katie took off as the three women began sprinting with everything they had left. Katie did her best, blasting the creatures out of the way and grimacing as Natasha was taken down. They continued going, Wanda using her power to propel herself along. Okoye fell next, and then the yelp as Wanda fell almost made Katie rethink her strategy but she couldn’t. Instead she put on a spurt of speed, shooting forward. She had to get to Vision.

Meanwhile, Steve was running like he had never run before, and as he reached the clearing in the trees he saw one of the aliens bent over Vision, the tip of his staff trying to pry out the stone from his head. Steve tackled the alien at full speed, his shoulder driving into the man’s waist.

“Get outta here!” he yelled, jumping up as he began to trade blows with the alien, using his arm-shields to both land and deflect the blows. There was no movement so he turned to Vision again, issuing another instruction “Go!”

Steve kept blocking the alien’s weapon using his shields, finally knocking it from the alien's hands just before he was thrown over a fallen tree and pinned by his opponent's hand at his throat. Steve struggled, grabbing at the fingers gripping round his throat, but even with his physical abilities, he was struggling. But then suddenly, the blade of the staff emerged from the alien’s chest. Steve saw him splutter, then choke, before his grip on the soldier’s throat dropped him to the floor.

Katie landed besides him, her helmet sliding off as she offered her hand to pull him to his feet as Vision cast the alien aside before collapsing exhaustedly to the floor.

“Thanks” Steve panted, his breath ragged as he gently cupped her face before he strode to Vision "I thought I told you to go." He sighed, hauling him to his feet.

"We don't trade lives Captain." Vision replied simply, and both Katie had to smile at the android repeating Steve’s words back to him.

**** Tony was beginning to realise they had no chance against Thanos, certainly not whilst he had the stones he did. But that spurred him on even more, because if he got the rest, well it didn’t bear thinking about. With one last attempt he flew at Thanos who deflected the blow and picked him up by the helmet and blasted his midsection with the Power Stone. The gaps in nanite coverage were now extensive, as his armour was losing the ability to recover from the intensity of the damage. Tony struggled to one knee, and fired his right hand repulsor at Thanos, but he might as well have been using a fucking water pistol for all the good it did. With a grit of his teeth, Tony got to both feet as his suit tried to complete repairs, adding the beam from his left hand as well. Thanos walked right up to him, and backhanded the incomplete helmet completely off his head. Tony’s eyes grew wide as he crossed  his arms to block a blow from Thanos' gauntlet, the Titan caught his left hand over his head. In desperation, Tony formed what was left of his right glove into a short sword, which Thanos easily caught, snapping it off clean and driving it through Tony's left side.           

Tony’s body seized up in pain as Thanos walked him back until he collapse onto a rock, looking up at the man who had stabbed him with shock and hatred. the blood bubbling in his mouth.

 This was it, Thanos was finally going to kill him, after six years of nightmares.

“You have my respect, Stark.” Thanos said, almost with a hint of regret “When I'm done, half of humanity will still be alive” he let go and straightened up. “I hope they remember you.”

Tony’s thoughts flashed to the people on Earth, more specifically Pepper and his Sister. He had failed them, again. His visions were coming true. He drew in a pained breath, the copper taste of blood surrounded his senses as Thanos raised the gauntlet, closing his fist and all four stones began to glow.

“Stop!” Strange yelled, sitting up painfully as he looked at Thanos. “Spare his life... and I will give you the stone”

“No tricks.” Thanos turns to him and Doctor Strange shook his head.

Despite Tony’s protest, Strange handed over the stone and Thanos dropped it into the thumb setting on the gauntlet, the energy pulse making him wince.

“One to go.”

 At that point an energy blast hit the gauntlet right in the empty Mind Stone setting and Thanos grimaced in surprise as Quill, who was screaming in incoherent rage, flew towards him, firing with both hands. Thanos didn’t even bother responding to the assault. Instead he conjured up a portal and simply left. Star-Lord flew through where Thanos had been and crashed, rolling several times.

“Where is he?!” Quill stood up, his helmet sliding away.

With a grimace, Tony managed to stich up his stab wound as well as he could with his suit functions, but he was still weak and had no breath for answers.

“Did we just lose?” Quill asked, his voice now fearful.

Tony turned to Dr Strange and looked at him, shaking his head sadly “Why would you do that?” his voice cracked slightly. After everything they had done to try and stop him getting the stone, after the Wizard himself saying he wouldn’t hesitate to let anyone die to keep it safe, he just handed it over.  

“We're in the Endgame now.” Dr Strange looked at him. And Tony could do nothing but sigh, and slump back against his rock, hoping that the guys on Earth would fare better than they had.

*****

"Everyone on my position, we've got incoming." Steve pressed his finger to the com in his ear while glancing sideways at Katie, the pair of them stood in front of Vision, the feel of unease and silence was getting even more oppressive.

“What the hell?" Natasha mumbled, voicing what everyone was thinking.

"Whatever happens,” Steve swallowed, turning to Katie “I want you to know I love you."

She looked up at him, his eyes flashing with fear. Both of them knew this could very well be their final stand, Katie felt her chest tighten as she felt a single tear of fright, love and pride fall down her face.

"I love you too." she whispered. “Always.”

Then,across the clearing from them a cloud of grey and blue began to form from nothing. A huge man, purple in colour, encased in a deep golden armour stepped out from the grey and blue mass.

"Cap, that's him." Bruce pointed out obviously, because honestly, who else could it be?

Steve raised his shields and took a few steps forward as Katie moved backwards to stand with Natasha and Wanda, both stood in front Vision.

"Eyes up. Stay sharp." Steve commanded beginning to charge forward, leaving Katie behind. He knew that if all else failed, Wanda was going to have to make the decision to destroy that stone, and Katie didn’t want her to be alone when she did.

Bruce reached Thanos first, using the rockets on his suit to launch him up in the air and as his hand clenched into a fist, Thanos raised the gauntlet on his left hand and Bruce's suit turned blue and see-through, his body flying through Thanos' rather than colliding with it and was encased in the rock at the side of a hill face. Katie glanced across at Natasha and saw a look of fright on the blonde’s face. A look she had only ever seen once before, when Bruce had transformed into the Hulk for the first time and they had been trapped in the cargo bay of the Hellicarrier with him.  

Steve, reached second and jumped aiming to punch Thanos in the face with his shields but he was stopped dead in his path, a purple glow encasing his body simply throwing him to the side and out of sight where he crashed to the ground, his head spinning as everything went hazy.

It was hopeless. T’Challa was cast aside like a rag doll, Sam was grounded easily. Nothing could touch him.

"Wanda," Vision said breathlessly from behind them, and they all turned to face him. "It's time."

"No," her voice shook and Katie glanced back and forth between her and the Titan as he was advancing.

"They can't stop him, Wanda, but we can," Vision continued "Look at me!” he demanded forcefully “You have the power to destroy the stone."

"Don't," she cried, trying to pull away from his grip a third time.

Katie turned back to the fight in time to see Rhodey drop out of the air. When Bucky tried to fire at the Titan raising his gun and running towards him, shooting bullets wildly, he was also cast aside, the same way Steve had been.

“You must do it Wanda, please.” Vision continued to plead and Katie turned to the young woman whose bottom lip had begun to wobble.

“Wanda.” Katie looked at her, her own voice cracking as well with the impending action they were about to take. “I can’t begin to imagine how you feel but Vis is right. You have to destroy it.”

The tears were forming in Katie’s eyes. All she could hear was Steve’s voice “we don’t trade lives” in her head. But right now she had no idea where Steve was, she couldn’t see where Thanos had thrown him. Thor was nowhere to be found, and it appeared there was no other way to stop the Titan. 

The stone, and with it Vision, had to be destroyed.

"We are out of time." Vision spoke gently, his hand wrapping around Wanda’s as he brought it up against his cheek.

"I can't." Wanda whispered looking at Vision then over to Katie for some form of guidance. Katie could offer none.

"It's alright," Vision took Wanda's hand and opened it up. “You could never hurt me. I just feel you."

As Katie watched, Wanda looked over her shoulder and then she let her power flow, her face contorting into so many emotions it broke Katie’s heart to think about what she was feeling. Her attention was called back to the fight when someone yelled, this time Okoye had launched. Natasha took a deep breath, looking at Katie as they now found themselves the last line of defence, and they had no choice but to throw themselves at the Titan to buy Wanda some time. Natasha went first, but it was pointless, she was cast off to the side somewhere and Katie stood, drawing herself up to her full height, helmet, shield and weapons ready, knowing full well it wasn’t going to stop him.

But Steve was up and running again, Thanos was advancing on his wife and he wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight. He threw himself into a slide, the momentum carrying him under Thanos’ legs and as he went he aimed a swipe at the back of the man’s calves and knees with his shields. As he jumped to his feet, Thanos aimed a blow at Steve’s head, but he caught the gauntlet in both his hands. Gritting his teeth he put every bit of strength he had into holding off the blow as Katie flew in, her repulsors firing at the Titan which made him lose concentration for a moment, but only a second. Then, in the corner of his eye,  Steve saw the other fist powering towards his temple. And then it all went back.

Steve crashed to the floor and Thanos caught Katie easily round the neck. Both her hands went around his, her fingers trying desperately to prise his away from where he had a grip on her but to no avail.

“Another Stark.” he mumbled, and before Katie could respond he threw her up into the air before shooting her with a shot from the power stone sending her flying off to the side where she collided heavily, head first with a tree.

As Katie lay motionless on the floor, she could vaguely hear noises, the sounds of fighting and yelling. Then there was some sort of huge explosion. She closed her eyes and must have passed out for a while, as when she came round it was all quiet.

“Mrs Rogers…”FRIDAY was saying frantically, as she blinked her eyes, before the display came back into focus. She was led, face down on the forest floor somewhere. With a groan she lifted her head, and her helmet fell back as she glanced across the clearing. Steve was led roughly 10 feet away, still face down thanks to the force of Thanos’ punch.

“Steve…” she whispered to herself and pushed herself up, half crawling, half running towards him.

There was a flash of light and as she reached Steve’s side, Thanos was thrown back further away from the clearing and Thor was barrelling down towards him, axe first. Thanos raised his hand but it was too late, Thor’s axe hit him square in the chest. Thanos staggered backwards, falling to one knee as Thor landed in front of him.

“Steve.” Katie gently shook him, trying to keep one eye on what was going on “Baby, please, get up.”

"I told you, you'd die for that." she heard Thor say, along with the sickening crunch as he pushed the axe further into the titan’s chest.  Steve groaned slightly, and started to move, turning his head as he lifted it up from where he was laying in the dirt. 

"You should have-" Thanos was continuing to wheeze somewhere behind Katie "You should have gone for the head."

"No!" Thor yelled. Katie looked round instinctively and saw Thanos bring up his gloved hand and he simply snapped his fingers. There was a blinding white light conjured from the gauntlet which covered everyone's vision and Katie threw her arms up over her face, engaging the shield to shelter her and Steve.

“What did you do?"  Thor asked. When Thanos didn’t answer he shouted, desperately, almost pleading, "What did you do?!"

Thanos still gave no response, looking around the quiet battlefield. A portal then opened up behind him and he fell back into it, Stormbreaker tumbling out of his chest as he did.

It was deathly silent as Katie and Steve both got to their feet. Steve’s hands fell to her shoulders, his eyes searching his wife’s face and she nodded to tell him she was ok. Turning, he hissed at the pain in his side and clutched at his ribs, looking around, half expecting Thanos to appear out of nowhere again.

"Where'd he go?" he asked, spinning around, he was worried now. "Thor?"

Thor finally looked up and met Steve's eyes, then Katie’s and it was not a comfort. The god looked hopeless and still he gave no response.

"Steve?" Another voice cut in sounding as confused as the rest of them felt, and they turned to see Bucky looking down at his arm in disbelief as the limb was disappearing into ashes the gun in his hands fell to the ground followed shortly by the man himself as he disappeared.

Steve felt cold, and he took a few steps forward before falling to a knee and reaching out touching the ashes that were left of his best friend.

He looked up at Katie, he was utterly confused, shocked, disbelieving. Katie, in turn, was numb with shock. Her head span round to see the tree creature was talking to the Racoon in confusion as he too began to fade away, the Racoon dropping his head in sorrow. Blindly she reached back feeling around for Thor’s hand before squeezing it tightly. He was still there. Good.

And then she turned to check on Wanda. She was knelt over Vision, and she gave sad smile, as the dust started to take her too.

“No,no, no...” Katie scrambled over to her as she gave one last gasp before the dust carried her away on the wind. Katie dropped helplessly to her knees, letting out a soft sob as Steve fell down besides her, one hand on her shoulder, the other shakily reaching out to roll Vision’s lifeless body over. His eyes locked on the hole in the android’s head. Steve sighed hard and dropped backwards sitting on the ground with a huff. Kate grabbed at him, half expecting him to turn to dust, her grip on his arm was almost painful but he rest his hand over hers, anything to feel her, keep her there.

"What's going on?" Rhodey asked voicing the question on everyone's mind, "What the hell is happening?"

"Oh, God." Steve heard his voice crack as his back slumped against Visions body. He looked at Katie, the tears pouring down her face as the two of them simply sat there, numb in the realisation that for the first time ever, The Avengers had lost.

Tags

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[lgcyonghwa]

on monday APRIL 13, you are pulled away from your first schedule of the day and asked to present yourself to Studio Recording A. when you knock, the music stops and a voice asks you to come in. inside, you find seo haneul sitting in front of the console, deep in work. he gives you a small smile and gestures for you to come sit next to him. 

“YONGHWA, i was waiting for you.” he begins. “i bet you know why you’re here. congratulations on getting the “jinwoo” part in HOCUS POCUS.“ he might be congratulating you, but his expression remains serious. “i’ve been in this business long enough to see through people…” he leaves the idea up in the air, yonghwa is probably able to read through his lines. “if you are to work with us, i will ask of you two things. first, more honesty on your part. don’t try to give us the answers you think we want, be genuine and honest. this is the only way dbsd has lasted this long and those values are at the core of everything we do.” he explains. “if you wish to work with us, i’m going to ask to follow that work ethic we have, or you’re gonna be replaced.” his gaze doesn’t let go of yonghwa’s. “second, your skills aren’t there yet. your overall impression is impressive and i can understand why you’ve been chosen center and given a solo, but your singing needs a bit more practice for this part especially. PROJECT ORIGIN has received a rush mark, so my album release has been pushed back, which gives us a little more time to prepare. recording will be in JUNE, until then, i’ll be giving you private SINGING lessons every SUNDAY EVENING from 8pm to 10pm.”

My goodness.

If this was a crime show, this would be where Kang Yonghwa laugh daintily into the palm of his left hand while his right discreetly retrieved the pistol hidden in his pocket. “What gave me away?” He would ask, voice soft as feathers delivering a question that was oh so deadly. 

Except, this was no FBI series, and he was far from a nefarious villain. Yonghwa was, in reality, just a trainee who was recently made an idol, now condemned to too much anxiety to celebrate his newest success. He didn’t know why he received this opportunity, considering he never thought of himself as one of Legacy’s best singers. Similarly, Yonghwa also didn’t know how Seo Hanuel managed to see into his chest and found the insincerity there. 

Life was full of surprises. Perhaps his months of working on his singing were finally paying off. Maybe Seo Hanuel knew boys who were like him growing up in this industry. Honestly, it might also be possible that Yonghwa wasn’t hiding his nature as well as he thought he was. Maybe he had I am greedy written all over his forehead and he was the only one who thought it wasn’t obvious. 

Honesty was a luxury. Think about it, if Yonghwa walked in with an I just want money and exposure, would anyone give him anything? I want to get paid, my passion is dead. It was a hard pill to swallow but he had to nevertheless. Yonghwa would love to be less greedy - for his heart to stop drumming against his rib cage every time he was handed a cheque. His upbringing, however, left him with little other choices. Money comforted him the way a hug couldn’t. It reassured him whenever he questioned his own skills. It was his motivation through hardship and…damn.  He’d been counting dollars for so long that it was deeply ingrained in him and maybe before too long, it would consume him.

Perhaps it was good that Seo Hanuel was calling him out, although a part of Yonghwa thought it might be too late already. 

“Okay,” he said simply, tucking away his signature smile and leaving his face for once, just relaxed. “I will try my best.” Any promises beyond that would be another count of insincerity. “See you at the singing lesson. Once again, I am grateful for the opportunity.”

OOC: first of all, congratulations ! seo haneul has tasked you to gain 30 SINGING POINTS by JUNE 5. write a 300+ words solo about your muse working with seo haneul at any moment during the following weeks (and it cannot be the reply to this prompt if you do reply to it).

to claim your points, please send the form below to the points blog before JUNE 6 at 11:59 EDT. KANG YONGHWA ∙ SEOHAN’S WORKSHOP - SOLO: +10 SINGING [ LINK ]

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine celebrating Christmas with the boys...

“You are kidding me right now.” You groaned, as you looked at the computer, and muttered into your hand as you covered your face, “I ordered this three weeks ago Amazon, where is my shit?”

“What’s up [y/n]?” Sam asked as he slumped down next to you at the table, causing you to quickly close your laptop.

“Nothing, just looking for a new case, and I’m coming up with nothing.” You lied as you faked a smile, “I’m fine Sammy.”

However inside your heart was breaking

————-

“I’m homeeeee!” Dean yelled into the bunker as he struggled to carry all the groceries into the doorway, your feet audiable rushing to his aid as you both took the bags to the kitchen.

“I’ll put them away Dean, thank you though for going so last minute for me.” You smiled as he smiled

“No problem. Just tell me if you need any help.” He smiled before leaving, you chuckled to yourself as you excitedly pulled out all the ingredients you had been collecting over the months to make a homemade pie for the boys. Once they were all out, you started putting the new groceries away. However you were soon done, and left looking at the empty bags.

“Dean!” You called in confusion from the kitchen, causing him to rush to the kitchen, gun out as you looked at him, “What’s with the gun?”

“You sounded like you were in trouble, I wasn’t about to run in here blind.”

“Hey, where are the apples I asked you to pick up?” You asked hoping he wouldn’t notice all the pie ingredients you had taken out before noticing you didn’t have the key ingredient.

“They were all sold out. I figured we could go back after the holiday, check for more.”He answered, “Besides Sam won’t die if he goes a few days without his apple.”

“Yeah he will be fine.” You breathed out as he walked back out. Once he was out of sight you sunk to the floor and groaned.

—————

It was Christmas morning, and all motivation to get out of bed was gone. You just laid on your side, staring at the wall, thinking about how Christmas was now ruined. Your presents still didn’t come in, there was no homemade pie to surprise the boys, it was all ruined.

“Hey sleepyhead.” Dean smiled as he sat beside you, you could felt the other side of the bed dip under Sam’s weight.

When you didn’t answer right away, Sam and Dean both looked at one another, Sam looking at Dean as though this was all pointless. They both knew all you wanted was to make this Christmas special, just like you did every year.

This year though they wanted to surprise you.... but they feared their efforts to do so were now coming to bite them in the ass.

“Hey, merry Christmas.” Sam placers his hand on you, gently shaking you as you huffed out in annoyance.

“Yeah Merry Christmas.”

“Hey why is Santa’s little helper so bah humbug right now?” Dean retorted, this question causing you to sit up as you looked from one Winchester to the other.

“Because,” You retorted, tear glassing up your eyes, “Christmas is ruined.”

“And why would you say...”

“I know I shouldn’t care, cause Christmas is about more then stuff, but neither of your presents came in. I even ordered them in advance, not last minute like you guys do. I was so excited for them too. For Sam I got you...”

“High powered telescope that is portable, so that I could take it hunting with us if we needed one. Or just because you knew I really wanted one.” Sam answered, a smile on his face as he took your words away.

“Yeah... and for Dean...”

“You got me a novelty mug covered in butts, a shirt that says ‘if you didn’t want a sarcastic answer then why did you ask a stupid question, and a working mini Batman signal.”

“Yeah.” You slowly replied, knowing there was no way they saw you order this stuff, “Did you guys hack my amazon again?”

“Not exactly... we might have picked up your packages though.”

“Guys! Why would you...”

“Just come look.” Dean interrupted, throwing both hands up along with Sam, your eyes darting from one to the other.

“Fine.” Anger was clear in your voice, now Christmas was definitely ruined

You followed behind the giants, who insisted on it, standing as close together as they possibly could so that you couldn’t see past themUpon entering the war room Sam instructed, “Close your eyes.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.” You exhaled before shifting your weight in annoyance and shouting them with a huff

Within three second Sam was instructing you again, “Alright, open them.”

What you saw when you did was something you never thought you would see, the war room table was covered in presents, two signal boxes on the ends of the table, but the middle had a small heap. In front of the heap was a still steaming pie, which made the whole room smell like...

“I lied too when I said there were no apples.” Dean confessed, “I just knew you were gonna make a pie, but we wanted to make you open this year.”

“More like Dean wanted to try.” Sam said! “I was busy wrapping..”

“I love it.” You replied teary eyed

“Well we figured this year, we would surprise you, since you go out of your way most years to surprise us on the holidays. We know we normally aren’t very good at this sort of stuff, but...”

“It is perfect.” You interrupted, moving to each of the guys to kiss their cheeks as you smiled.

“So let’s unwrap some presents!” Dean instructed excitedly, both boys were over the moon ready to see your face when you saw what they acquired. But to you the best present was this whole surprise.

———

Later that night you were all laying on Sam’s bed, watching the Game of Thrones box set that Sam had gotten you, when you remembered, “Oh we forgot the pie.”

You quickly rolled off the bed and rushed to the kitchen, leaving Sam and Dean to look at one another.

“I think we really needed this.” Dean said softly

“I mean everyone needs a break from...”

“No, not that. I mean this whole set up. The bunker, you and me putting together this.... [Y/N].”

“Oh right.” Sam suddenly remembered, “we met her Christmas eve.”

They both knew your origin story, they were working a vampire case, and they didn’t save your family in time, but they saved you. After explaining everything to you, you begged them to let you join.... both said no, and went back to the hotel to sleep for the night, and left early the next morning, fearful they would see you before they left town to beg them again.

They didn’t see you for 300 miles, when they stopped for gas, and while Dean pumped, you revealed yourself hiding in the back, scaring the shit outta Sam., who happened to stick a gun in your face as a response.

The boys were pulled from their memory by you carrying in three plates of pie, which smelled amazing. Dean and Sam taking theirs as you settled into the bed again, each taking their forks, and digging in. However after the first bite you all stopped, as the first bite fell out of your mouths and back onto the plate.

“Well, it is the thought that counts.” You smiled, before Dean reached for the whiskey, each of you taking a sip to wash the taste from your mouths, before continuing your marathon.

[willow-salix]

What is a Short Story?

A few people have asked me to cover this topic, because its one skill that some people just fail to master, or at least find very difficult. And knowing the difference between a short story and a novel would seem like common sense, its just smaller, right? Less words, less chapters, just…less? Well, no. it’s not,

You know the old saying ‘Everyone has a book in them?’ well that’s bollocks. No, not everyone has a book in them, in fact, many people think they have a great idea for a book but in reality, it would never work.

While others simply don’t want to write a novel. This could be for a number of reasons. Time, lack of ideas, motivation, stamina, focus or just personal preference. I know many people who feel like a novel is just too big a commitment, they grow bored of the same characters and the same story. They don’t like it. And that’s fair enough, not everyone loves novels, not everyone enjoys reading 300+ pages of one story, and for those that crave more of a quick fix, the short story is perfect for them.

A short story is not meant to be a condensed novel, it is not meant to follow a massive, convoluted plot or to be stretched over a long time frame. The clue is in the title, it’s a SHORT story.

Two or three characters is perfect for a short story, four at a push, any more than that and it can become confusing. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule, say if the story is an extra little piece that ties in with a series of stories or novels, like I sometimes do, then the characters are already established and known to your readers. Another exception would be if the characters are depicting real people, like a cameo of a well-known celebrity.

As I said, a short story is not meant to be as complete as a novel, you do not need to bog your reader down with endless details.

The best was I’ve heard it described was as a peek through a keyhole. You see a small amount of time and a small aspect of the characters’ lives and environment, and that is all.

A good short story should make you feel, it should step up, slap you round the face and stay with you for a few hours after you have finished reading it.

To be a true short story you want your word count to be somewhere between 500-5,000 words, maximum. Any more than that and it starts to lose a little of its punch and becomes something else entirely.

You want your story to focus on an important moment in your characters lives, a moment that changes them forever. Things should not be the same at the end as they were in the beginning.

Think of your story, any story, not just a short one, as a roller coaster, we start at rock bottom, we start to climb, slowly up and up, we see the top, but often have to come rushing back down again, slowly and laboriously climbing back up and maybe down again, before we reach a place where we can comfortably get off.

Remember that short stories are all about limiting yourself. So no more than two or three places for your setting, spending ages having your characters rushing from one place to another is pointless, it’s a waste of words and your readers time. It’s not needed.

Viewpoint is another thing you really have to think about when writing your short story. In a novel or a much longer piece you can switch viewpoint, although I don’t recommend doing it too often or in the middle of a chapter, but in a short story, where there is no room or time for an obvious break, its very hard to do and is often confusing to read.

The 3rd person, all seeing, all knowing narrator is the most popular choice for a short story as it is easier to explain past plot points or things the main character shouldn’t know. But 1st person can work perfectly well as long as you plan your story properly and are good at separating your author voice from that of your characters.

In a short story there is no way to add additional information after the event, so you have to be extra vigilant with your endings. All your readers questions must be answered by the end, nothing must be left unexplained or on a cliff hanger. Your reader needs to be left feel satisfied. Of course, once again, there are a few exceptions to this rule, sometimes leaving the true ending up to your readers imagination is a good thing, like if a couple finally agree to that date, as long as you wrapped up all your previous plot points, then leave it up to the reader to decide if they got on well and stayed together or went their separate ways. If the murdered is revealed but they escaped from the police, then leave it up to your reader to decide if they are eventually caught or not, as long as your reader is not left with questions about plot points you raised during the story, its all good. Even leaving your reader with an implied ending is fine, as long as its pretty obvious and again, leaves no questions, like that story where the husband has been bludgeoned to death but there is no murder weapon to be found, nothing but the thawed leg of lamb sitting in the sink.

One problem writers often have with regards to a short story, is character development. It seems that many don’t feel as connected to their short story characters as they do for a novel.

This can turn into a major problem. Just because you won’t be spending as much time with them, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t care about them or know them as well as you do any other. If you, as the writer, don’t seem to give a shit about them, I can guarantee that your reader wont either. It will show in your writing and won’t engage your reader. As I suggested in my previous video about writing believable characters, finding a character interview online and filling that out for them can be a great way of getting to know them before you start writing.

Short stories take practice, they are a skill that must be honed, the idea is to eliminate all unnecessary words. If it doesn’t advance the plot, cut it.

A good exercise to do is to look in a newspaper or magazine for the problem pages, you know the ones ‘Dear Diane, I think my partner is in love with next doors dog, he keeps going on about how cute her fluffy little butt is…’

Now imagine that as a scene from a soap opera. See the scene in your minds eye, see how it could have come about, and how it could turn out to be an innocent thing, maybe he’s planning on getting her a puppy for her birthday?

Then write it, just give it a go. All it takes is one, tiny seed of an idea to grow into something amazing.

That’s all for today, so blessed be, and happy writing.

[mad-madam-m]

So I'm just curious, how do you get yourself to write? And do you use prompts and if you do where do you get them? I meant to use NaNo to get me to write but it took 4 days into November for me to realize November started so I failed lol. I've been meaning to start this original thing and it's just not...working.

First of all, anon, you could start writing RIGHT NOW (yes, with 10 days left in the month) and you would not fail NaNo. You might not hit 50k (although I know people who have hit 50k in that amount of time, or less), but you won’t fail. NaNoWriMo isn’t about hitting 50,000 words so much as it is about putting a stake in the ground and saying, “Here. Today. I will start writing the project I’ve always wanted to.” And doing it. Doesn’t matter what that project is—original novel, short stories, fic, poetry, revising something, a series of blog posts—NaNo is about just. Fucking. Doing it. And you still have time to Do It.

To answer your questions:

Do you use prompts and if you do, where do you get them?

For original stories, particularly novels, I usually don’t. For fic, particularly short fic I’m writing for events, I do. Tumblr has a wealth of writing prompts that range from “here’s a situation” to “here’s a line of dialogue GO,” and I tend to reblog them under the tags “fic prompts” or “writing prompts.” Honestly, most of them would work for either original fic or fanfic, so if you are a writer who likes to work from prompts, go forth and enjoy!

How do you get yourself to write?

That’s kind of a big question, and uh, the answer to it got long. Very long. (I said once that if you give me half a chance, I’ll talk about writing all the live-long day, and this answer is no exception.)

Different things motivate me for different projects, and as with all writing-related advice, YMMV, but here’s a few things that really help for getting myself to write:

1) Develop your story.

The current original story I’m working on, for example, I have not really had to struggle to get myself to write at all because 1) I’m stupid excited about it and 2) I have developed the hell out of it.

I’ve talked before about outlining my stuff here, so I won’t go too much into it again; suffice it to say that I have done about the same amount of development on my current original story that I had on ADA by the time I started writing. I started around the very end of September developing my characters and spent a good chunk of October working on setting, worldbuilding, plot, and finally my notecards.

Shockingly, having some idea of what’s happening and where I’m going is making this story easier to write.

Right? Like WHO’D HAVE THOUGHT.

Because of that, I’ve been excited about writing my story, so getting myself to write on it has been (comparatively) a cakewalk.

That’s not to say any of the writing is good (oh God no) or that there aren’t parts that need fixing, or that I haven’t been stuck. But it’s been stuck like “how do I describe seeing a tree-covered mountain in the middle of fall from the POV of someone who has never seen something like this” rather than “I have no fucking clue what happens next uh…”

The stories I struggle the most with writing are the ones that I’ve worked the least on developing. The stories that have been the easiest to write have been the ones I’ve spent at least a month doing prep work on before I ever start drafting.

2) Love your story.

Being in love with a story makes it a lot easier to write, at least for me. Because here’s the thing, ideas are easy.

If you’re a creative person, you’re going to end up with a file of story ideas—maybe prompts you liked, dialogue that stuck with you, one of those “humans are space orcs” tumblr posts that’s just really clicking in your brain—that will be longer than you could conceivably write if you had a hundred lifetimes. That’s okay! That’s great. But it means a lot of them are never going to get past the idea stage.

For me, the stories that get finished—the ones that not only get started but actually make it through the first draft and then three rounds of editing and revisions—are the ideas that I’ve been percolating on for months, if not longer. They’ve been cooking in the back of my brain while I’ve been doing other things, sorting themselves out, and most importantly: they will not let me go.

Coming up with ideas is easy. Finding an idea that will last and sustain a story and my interest for at least a year, if not longer? That’s harder.

Y’all know how much I’ve been talking about Tiger & Bunny over the past year? We’re talking that level of obsession with a story that I want to write, whether it’s fic or original. Sometimes it takes months or years for all the puzzle pieces to come together. Sometimes the whole thing will congeal within a few weeks, or there will be one crucial piece of story that will just make EVERYTHING come together, I will literally shout “OH MY FUCKING GOD” and that’s it, I’m off to the races. (In this particular case, it wasn’t anything I’d done in the first two weeks of poking at steampunk-y ideas; it was the realization that I could put a circus on an airship. The whole story just went WHOOSH after that.)

BUT. But. Sometimes you don’t have that. These stories are great and I love them and they remind me why I love writing so much (and if you’re writing something that’s gonna be 90k+, like I have a tendency to do, you need to be in love with it, IMO), but sometimes you’re in situations where you just have to get it done. In those cases:

3) Resort to bribery.

I’ve been poking at the third part of Alpha & Emissary, oh, basically since I posted the second part. My problem is that my fandom focus has been, shall we say, split for the past year. *coughs delicately, shoves Tiger & Bunny fics under the bed*

But here’s the thing: I hate having a published WIP on AO3 (it’s why I don’t publish long!fics until they’re completely drafted and mostly edited). I hate—HATE—having an unfinished series on AO3.

So that’s the rub: I have an unfinished series that I want to finish because I hate that it’s not finished. I also have a new fandom that is wresting my attention and inspiration away from said series. What’s a girl to do?

A girl tells herself she can’t write any more Tiger & Bunny fic until she finishes this one WIP, that’s what she does.

And it’s motivated me to sit my ass down and work on that WIP, because goddammit, I have a “but there was only one bed” TaiBani fic that I would really like to have up by New Year’s.

Your bribery will be different. Maybe you get to watch 1 episode of your favorite show per every 1k you write, or you get to try a new knitting project when you finish this short story. Maybe you binge-watch an entire season of your favorite anime if you exceed your NaNo goal. Or you write 50 words and get a cookie. The point is, find what works for you to get it done.

4) Figure out a minimum daily goal and stick with it.

For me, this was 500 words a day. 500 words. That’s it. That’s one 30-minute word sprint for me. That’s something I can do without stressing myself out.

Because of this point and point 3, I wrote more than 7000 words on a story I’d been stuck on for the better part of a year before I had to stop to work on NaNo stuff. Another 7k, and I’ll probably have it finished.

Your minimum word count will almost certainly be different. Maybe it’s 300 words a day, maybe it’s 1000. Hell, maybe it’s 100 words. Again, find what works for you, what you can write regularly without stressing yourself out.

Another important thing: If I didn’t hit 500 words, I didn’t beat myself up about it. Maybe I wrote 350. Or 220. Or just 93. The point is, did I write? Yes? Then I did good. I got myself a sentence or a paragraph closer to finishing. And it all adds up.

(And hey, you don’t have to write every day. I do, or I try to, because that’s what works for me. If it stresses you out to do so, then find another way to make it work.)

5) Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines.

This one’s hard because I can rarely keep a deadline that’s not set by an external source. If you tell me on December 20 that you need a story by December 22? Then on December 22, you’ll have a story, edited and ready to post. But when it comes to something I set for myself, the chances of a deadline working are 50/50.

That being said, it is something that helps me keep on track and even if I don’t finish something by a self-imposed deadline, it does get me writing.

6) Sprint with friends!

NaNo is really great for this because all your writer friends are coming out of the woodwork going I need to hit 5k by the end of today, will you sprint with me? Sometimes it just helps to have that kind of accountability. You all get together (I’ve used Discord, Google Hangouts, IRC, and Twitter DMs for this), set a timer, and write for 15 minutes or 20 minutes or 30 minutes. Then, when the time’s up, you post your word count, everybody congratulates everybody else, and then you take a break before doing the next one.

Sprints are the reason I’ve been able to make some pretty significant headway on my word counts, and few things get me writing like knowing I’m going to have to tell everybody in my group what my word count is in 30 minutes or less. >.>

Like I said earlier, YMMV on all of these. What works for me may work for you, or it might not. But if you aren’t sure, it’s worth giving it a shot.

Happy writing!