#the secret is that this one's been sitting in my drafts half-finished for literal months and I finally figure out what was wrong with it lo

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 1

Danny stares at the screen in front of him. The fact that he’s in a library is the only reason he’s not squealing at the clearly well-maintained website he’s currently exploring. As it turns out, this dimension does have NASA. That fact on its own isn’t too terribly surprising, considering all the other ways it’s similar to Danny’s home. What is surprising (and, in no small part, exciting!), is that in this dimension NASA seems to have much better funding. Danny had managed to resist looking up anything related to space for the first hour of his time in the library, but then Danny had chanced across an article about the ISS, and his resolve had crumbled. Not even fifteen minutes later, and Danny is here, exploring the very nice NASA website. Plumbing its depths, really, for all the information it can provide on what space is like in this world.There’s lots of new information; space research is definitely more advanced here than it was back home, and there’s occasional vague allusions to odd things like the livability of Mars, and other oddities, it’s almost like this dimension has come to the forgone conclusion that aliens must exist. Which is certainly an exciting thought, but it also seems odd to Danny. What divergent experiences lead to such a conclusion Danny wonders, as he absently hovers over the opportunities tab for the fifth time. He knows he really shouldn’t get his hopes up, but with a more funded NASA, maybe he could find a way to get a job there eventually. After all he has no real idea when, or even if, he’ll ever manage to go home, so maybe it’s okay to think about the future a little bit.

Maybe they’ve already come into contact with aliens, Danny thinks. Maybe I could get a job working with aliens! It’s that thought that gets him to actually click the tab, desperate to know if that’s even a possibility. The page that opens doesn’t really list specific jobs or anything. Mostly, it seems to just be advertising that NASA is always looking for smart people that are passionate about space (Danny’s definitely one of those things, at least). But there is an interesting little banner advertising a special summer camp for aspiring astronomers, ages 14-18. The idea of that is both surprising and exciting. Danny doesn’t think his home world’s NASA had anything like that. Sam had sent him through with some money, but he’s still unsure if it’ll even work here, and he’s also not sure he wants to risk getting in trouble if it’s just a really close match. Plus it’s definitely not enough to afford the inevitable cost of a whole entire space camp. Danny remembers going to summer camps a couple times as a kid and he knows they weren’t cheap. Still, Danny remembers that Sam had also given him a few pieces of really nice jewelry that he could pawn off for cash, and maybe that could let him afford it?.

It would be so much easier if Danny had a social security number. Or, like, literally anything proving that he really does exist. But, well, technically he doesn’t exist here. Obviously, physically he is here, but he certainly wasn’t born here. He’s basically an undocumented immigrant, just from a place that he literally can’t ever physically go back to. Even the computer he’s using right now highlights just how alien this place is to him, with its large, flat screen and graphics better than anything he’s ever seen in his life. It runs so smoothly, too, that he just knows Tucker would cry if he could see it. And this is what they have in a library. Danny can’t even begin to imagine what high end tech here might look like.

Everything here is strange and new, and Danny doesn’t even really know what he needs to catch up on. He wishes he could have stayed. He had wanted to stay. Of course he had. But after the second time the Guys in White managed to capture him, well, it wasn’t hard to see why they wanted him gone. So when Sam and Tucker and Jazz had cornered him, and explained that they’d found a way to send him away, to somewhere that the GIW couldn’t follow, he hadn’t argued. He hadn’t argued when they dragged him down to the lab, and he hadn’t argued when Jazz shoved a backpack into his hands, and he hadn’t argued when Sam had told him that she’d added cash and jewelry to what Jazz had gathered. He hadn’t argued as Tucker had messed with the portal, and he hadn’t argued when they pushed him towards it.

He can’t go home. Maybe just for a while, but maybe not ever again. He can’t see his friends, and he can’t go to sleep in his own bed, and he can’t come home from school and play Doomed with Sam and Tucker. But maybe all that wouldn’t be so terribly painful, if he could just have one little thing here that he couldn’t have done back home. Danny knows it’s a long shot, but he clicks on the banner, just to see.

The first thing he notices as he reads through the description, is that it offers a lot. Eight weeks, overnight in a specialized science camp facility, an opportunity to experience both a shuttle launch simulation and a zero gravity simulator? The opportunity to experience multiple different kinds of jobs? This isn’t some camp that wants to introduce kids to the idea of astronomy, this is designed for kids who already want to be astronomers. All in all, it’s everything Danny could have imagined and more. It’s not exactly cheap, though. Five thousand dollars isn’t exactly affordable when all you have is some cash that may or not work, and a few necklaces, fancy as they may be. After all, it’s not like Danny knows enough about jewelry to have even a hope of not being ripped off.

At the bottom of the description, there is mention of scholarships, though, and maybe if he angles it right, he can manage to make use of one of those? Danny glances through the list. He doubts he can prove himself worth the aptitude scholarship. His grades weren’t exactly good back home, even if he did have his transcripts. And he’s hardly going to get the financial hardship scholarship if he’s got no proof that he even exists here. One of the scholarships catches his eye, though, specifically because he has no idea what it’s for. 

Danny knows the word meta. It’s like self-referential shit or something. But it’s not exactly a scientific thing. That’s language arts stuff, the kind of thing Mr. Lancer goes on about, and there should be no reason for it to be a kind of scholarship. But maybe it’s an acronym or something? Danny mouses over, and clicks through to see what exactly it is, even if it probably won’t be relevant to him.

“Here at NASA we understand that people don’t always fit our standard expectations of normality!” The meta scholarship page reads. Danny tries not to let his hackles go up at the mention of normality. They can’t possibly be talking about people like him, after all. Nothing he’s seen so far has implied that ghosts have any sort of presence here. “In our efforts to expand our understanding of the infinite expanse of space, it only makes sense to do our best to work with those who do not conform to those expectations, especially when those exceptions often represent unique opportunities for possible field work. If you identify as a meta, and believe your talents make you uniquely suited to extreme environments, we welcome you to apply for our full-expense meta scholarship!*”

The introductory paragraph only leaves Danny more confused, and a bit wary. The references to normality and unique opportunities for field work have bile rising into Danny’s throat, and he shakily opens a new tab, and types the word meta into the search bar. If they’re experimenting on people here too-

The search returns an astonishing number of results. Among the first ones are a wikipedia article on metas, and so many news articles. Danny clicks on the wikipedia page first.

“Metas refers to an individual who possesses meta powers. Derived from the prefix “meta-”, meaning beyond or transcending, meta powers are innately defined by the natural capabilities of the general population. Thus, on Earth, the term meta, or metahuman, typically refers to anyone who has abilities beyond the standard human experience. A significant portion of metas can be attributed to the human metagene,  which typically triggers in moments of intense physical or mental stress, and can produce unique situational abilities. Other metas, may belong to other species who naturally have certain abilities, or to individuals who are granted powers by various deific forces or even objects.”

What.

It can’t possibly be that easy. This world can’t possibly be that perfect. Danny keeps reading. He realizes as he continues that this article is long, with literally dozens of subsections. On top of that, as he begins to read, there are references to numerous other events, and topics that he’s never heard of before. And by the time the librarian arrives to usher him out of the library for the night, he still isn’t finished with it, but he has learned quite a bit.

Apparently, it isn’t exactly as perfect as it sounded. Rather, this dimension has a long history of meta-related conflict. There’s been plenty of discrimination and mistreatment in the past; the kind of thing that Danny is more than familiar with. But on top of that, there’s literal, actual superheroes here. A lot of them. Superheroes that have fought against numerous world-ending threats and won. And those same superheroes have worked with the world governments, and ratified the protection of metas’ rights as being fundamental human rights. If Wikipedia is to be believed, Danny really is safe.

Still, Danny knows first-hand the way that governments can and will lie. And just because the internet claims that these so-called metas are treated fairly, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s true. 

Propaganda, Danny thinks. Who’s to say it isn’t all just propaganda? I need to be more careful about transforming tonight.

But the library does need to close, so Danny heads out into the second night in his new hometown, mind racing as he thinks about the implications of everything he’s read. The space camp seems so far away now, in the aftermath of the following revelations. Danny needs to get further from civilization if he wants to transform tonight. He follows the main street out, away from town. Maybe in a field somewhere, he’ll be okay? This doesn’t exactly seem like a large town. Even if it’s not true, Danny thinks as he walks. At least I’m not alone here. And I didn’t see anything about Anti-Ecto Acts.

[natrome]

ok now that i for real know what my writing commitments are going to be for the next, like, year, at least the majority of them, here is the actual for real i s2g hold me to this writing schedule

Fic in a Box - due 10/15

1 assignment of 2k words remains, write it this saturday

Five Figure Fanworks Exchange - check in 11/11, due 1/20

i expect this will take about a week to finish, and ideally i'll have it done prior to check-in.

Yuletide - works due 12/18

UNLESS i get an assignment that i want to go hogwild on, which i should be prevented from doing, i should be able to finish this the week of 11/26 and not work on it outside of that.

galactic santas - est. due 12/25

my fave event of the year lol, the logh secret santa exchange. uh anyway this one is usually due around christmas and also is the easiest thing on this list by a mile and a half. i'm 0% worried about this one.

tomorrow ye will get your pay - aka the whale novel. - first draft due 3/1, physical product due for display 4/1

this is an extremely short timeline, and while it's not "drop everything else" level short, it is going to have to be my #1 writing priority for a long time.

my plan is as follows

spend the remainder of october getting situated w/ the research i'm going to have to do, figuring out who i need to talk to, etc. as well as put together a detailed chapter-by-chapter outline

nov/dec i'm assuming will be eaten by SMST and other commitments, but get research done and essentially braindump into document

jan/feb, just write as much as possible, take time off of work/quit job if i need to

if possible confine edits to the first 2 weeks of march, get books printed; deliver final product by last week of march.

god this schedule is miserable. well i signed up for it! i did this entirely to myself! lmfao.

anyway i'm going to bracket in that it's a 20 chapter novel, which seems like a reasonable number of chapters. i essentially have ~10 weeks to write this book. this is totally normal and fine, i have written longer books with less of a solid outline in shorter amounts of time. if i can just sit my ass in a chair and hammer out 2.5k words/day i will EASILY make this deadline and have time for editing. the issue will be making myself do that. but having a deadline and like professional accountability should majorly help. esp if i quit my stupid fucking job lol

serpent's mouth, serpent's teeth - due 12/31

i have four chapters left on SMST. i do not think they will be EASY to write but I do think that I'm CAPABLE of getting them done before the end of the year. at the very least i've sworn until i was blue in the face that i would finish this book by the end of the year. i need this book to stop haunting my waking nightmares lmfao. i estimate ~50-60k words remain, but we'll see what it actually ends up shaking out as. hopefully it's not more than that.

anyway this is another just "ass in chair" moment. though if i could have made myself do that months ago, this book would have been finished sometime this summer lol

every link was freedom's name - aka the fucking. arle heinessen play. no due date.

this is my yay you finished all the obligations you had now you get to do something deeply deeply stupid and entertaining only to a tiny number of people project. lyric play about arle heinessen. book of exodus pastiche. probably not that long. estimate it'll take me as long as POD did, so a month and a half? but i won't stress it. aim to finish it mid may?

new constellations - aka the logh rarepairs exchange i run

I'm planning to run signups in late march, with works due mid may. this is slightly earlier than last year but due to my own personal schedule i don't want it to overlap with...

heart attack exchange - works due 6/2

yeah you literally only get 2 weeks to work on this one so it kinda is what it is lol.

life out of balance rewrite. no particular due date.

i expect this will take me 3-4 months to complete. finish by september?

lighting out for the territories augmentation. no particular due date.

i'd like to think that i can get this done in 2 months but i don't actually have a plan for what i need to do to it. so who tf knows lol. assume it'll take me the rest of the year.

every hateful instrument - no firm date

this will likely take between 6-8 months to finish, but it's another thing that i really want to stop having hanging over me. i'll either work on it before the LOFTT stuff or after

WIAW phezzan novella - ultimate TBD

to be completed immediately before starting LL/SS, probably

other misc nonsense

there are other small exchanges that i like to do (space swap, unsent letters, we die like fen) so as those pop up i probably will sign up for them. i'm not going to look up/prognosticate when they will happen at this moment in time

god i owe so many people gifts for birthdays and holidays and stuff >.> you may or may not get them. lean towards may not b/c what the fuck is this writing schedule. i'm so sorry lmao

i've now gotten back around to "oh this goes up to the end of the year again, so the end of the year exchanges (yuletide, fffx, fiab, galactic santas) should be on this schedule" but down that road lies only pain and horror lol

this list has gotten incredibly vague as things have gone on. the last part of this year and the first part of next year are pretty set in stone though, and i just need to like, get myself to the starting block and then start running

literally so funny that i was like "i should relax and take a break from writing before starting LL/SS" lmfao. lmfao.

obviously some of these things could be deleted from the schedule. i don't have to do a bunch of exchanges (but i liiiiiike them) and i don't have to write a stupid play (but i wannnnnnt to), and i don't have to do any rewrites to the early parts of WIAW (but they're a mess). so it's like. idk. maybe none of this is real and i'm just making lists b/c i like making lists lol

[starlightxsvt]

Hellion

pairing: Jeonghan x female reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, idk what this is

warnings: cursing

word count: around 1.5k

A/N: Firstly, happy birthday to the Jeonghan, our con man. I know I'm a day late so forgive me for that. Secondly, I've no idea what the hell I wrote. I've cancelled two other drafts I wrote for his birthday cause none of them were coming together and in the end I've decided to post this shit. Anyway, your feedback would be really appreciated in this mess of a story :').

"What's Jeonghan doing here?" You hiss to Mingyu who has a hard time prying his eyes off of Chaeyeon. "I invited him. I never thought he'd actually come. I'm surprised too." He replies.

"Wha- why would you invite Jeonghan to my birthday party!" You glare at him to which he rolls his eyes, "Come on now, he's in our friend group. And college is almost over. You don't know when you'll see him again. Ogle him while he's still here." He smirks.

"What did you just s-"

"Oh come on, don't act like I don't know that he's your secret crush. Maybe make up with him and if you're lucky you'll get some good dick as a birthday present." Mingyu chuckles at your open mouth before scurrying away to avoid your wrath. You glare at his retreating figure before inhaling sharply. And before you can stop yourself, you start to look for him.

You spot Jeonghan at the large porch in the back of Mingyu's house, sitting in one of the porch seats while sipping beer. He looks dashing as always, his black hair messy, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight, his cheekbones getting a prominent shine. You sigh.

Jeonghan was an exhausting person to be around and maybe, he'd say the same for you. You've known him since highschool and after a particular incident of him spilling his banana milk all over your brand new scarf, you decided to call it war. To this day you believe that he did it on purpose because you told your homeroom teacher that he slept during his class.

After that it was like an unspoken rule- you two would bicker whenever you were in the same space. It only infuriated you that he was so good looking, smart, famous and the fact that you had some feelings developing for him. Each time you saw him with a girl you'd feel a bitter feeling all over and you could only hope that those feelings would pass over time. But no they didn't, they only grew- the small branches had formed a tree now, the roots planted deep in your heart.

"How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?" Jeonghan calls, without turning behind. You clear your throat before walking to him, "Didn't expect to see you here, fuck face."

"Can you not call me names for a day please? You're just jealous I'm good looking." He remarks drowning the can of beer.

You snort, "Haha. You wish, loser." You plop down beside him. "I see you've finished quite a few cans. What's up? Got ditched?" You poke him.

"What do you care?"

"You're ruining the mood here with all these sad aura around you. Go drink your sorrows away somewhere else, this is my party."

"Yet you are sitting with me and my sad auras."

"I came to tell you that," you scoff, crossing your arms over.

"Parties are not your thing, I know. And Mingyu wasn't shy on inviting people. It feels more like his birthday than yours." Jeonghan comments, still staring ahead. His words are true and they infuriate you. You can't help but get defensive, "What do you know, sad boy? I'm enjoying myself just fine."

"And yet you are sitting with me and-"

"Stop saying that, will you!" You snap. Jeonghan chuckles before looking at you. He unabashedly eyes you up and down, heating your cheeks up in the process.

"Nice dress," he murmurs. His words catch you off guard and you glare at him, "Stop staring at me, pervert."

"You were staring at me earlier."

"Seriously? Can you stop for one goddamn second?"

"You're the one who started it."

"That's it. I shouldn't have come here," you stand up to leave but to your utter surprise Jeonghan grabs your hand, sending your heart to a frenzy. "Wait."

You swallow nervously, heart thudding loudly in your chest as Jeonghan lets go of your hand and meets your eyes, "Sit down, I've a gift for you."

You frown, "You have a gift for me?" Jeonghan nods before sitting straight, setting down his can. "Before that, I need you to know something."

"W-what?"

"I really didn't spill my milk all over you intentionally that day." He meets your eyes.

You can't help but laugh out loud partially because he's still concerned about that and partially because you believe he's lying.

"Listen here, sad boy, I've put that well past me. And I know for a fact you did it on purpose so don't-"

"You didn't, ___. We've been fighting over that for our whole goddamn lives. And no, I'm not lying. I've no reason to. I never cared if you told our teacher shit or not." His chocolate orbs bore into yours and you swallow. The air surrounding you suddenly becomes thick and you start to feel jittery and maybe a slight amount of guilt. Is he really speaking the truth?

"W-whatever, I don't care anymore." You say, sitting down gently beside him.

"And yet you still hold a grudge against me," Jeonghan sighs. "Besides you're not even fun to fight with."

"What did you say?"

He laughs, his eyes forming crescents and the sweet melody echoing in the air. You quickly look away before he catches you staring, "I don't have all day. Where's my gift?"

"Yeah, right." From beside him he produces a bag that you didn't notice before. He hands it to you and you tentatively peek in, half expecting a bug to jump out.

To your utter surprise, a scarf that looks identical to the one he ruined lies there. A small gasp leaves your mouth.

"I bought it that day after I stained yours. I was going to give this to you as an apology but dear lord, you were on my ass the second I got to class next day." Jeonghan speaks and a blush coats your cheek leaving you feel vulnerable all of a sudden.

"I don't know what to say," You whisper more to yourself. Jeonghan chuckles, "I know, you're touched. It's okay, we're even finally."

You bite your lip and exhale loudly before meeting his eyes, "Thanks." Jeonghan moves his hand in a dismissive wave. "I thought I'd finally give it you, call it a truce. We'll probably never see each other again after this month and I wanted to depart on good terms."

Your throat constricts, an overwhelming sadness enveloping you. He's right, you two would probably never see each other again. His dad owns a huge business and he'd probably go abroad to manage it.

"You're right, let's call it a truce," you whisper staring at the scarf in your lap.

"Come on now, don't look so sad, sad girl," Jeonghan teases you and you roll your eyes. He's still the same.

He hands you a beer, "Have a drink with me to sign the truce." You quietly laugh, taking the can from him. You two share a comfortable silence, staring at the night sky, the music from the party fading into the background until Jeonghan decides to break it.

"I know you like me, ___." The words slip past his lips like it's the most casual thing ever. You choke on your beer before looking at him eyes wide like saucers, "W-what!"

Jeonghan slightly turns to face you, his features calm, "You don't have to act. I've known all along."

Oh. My. God.

Heat spreads all over your face like wildfire. Your first thought is that Mingyu told him. You chew your lip as you see no way out. "W-who told you?" You squeak.

"I've figured it out myself," He says nonchalantly, resting his head on his hand as you stares at you.

"You-you did?"

"Mhmm."

You fumble with the hem of your dress before murmuring out, "I-I should get going." You need to escape him. Forever.

But Jeonghan isn't done. He casually goes on, "I've always thought you were pretty. Even when you get red after losing an argument." You blush furiously as your palms sweat.

"You know I really had no intention of picking a fight with you but you...you were so desperate to bring me down. You always speak too much and I often think about the many ways I could shut your loud mouth. Such a shame, we would've made a great couple."

Your face feels like it's on fire by now. You swallow before nervously laughing, "I s-see what you're doing here...You're trying to p-prank me, asshole."

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, sighing, "See? There you go again, running that damn mouth." Your lips press together as you clench your fists, thinking of a way out. In the blink of an eye Jeonghan scoots closer to you and leans in to capture your lips in a kiss.

A squeak leaves your mouth as Jeonghan tilts your head, cupping your cheek. You want to pull back, smack him, call him names but you can only moan as his mouth slots against yours perfectly. Your tongues clash as you grab a fistful of Jeonghan's shirt, moaning.

When you pull back for air, you're mortified, wanting to be swallowed up by the ground. Jeonghan is totally calm as he takes in your messy state licking his lips.

"Do you want to continue?"

"W-wh-what?"

"I said do you want to continue this? If you don't want to I'll leave. If you do then you're coming home with me. Which one is it gonna be, ___?"

You bite your lip. Oh my God. This can't be happening.

You grit your teeth as every ounce of your resolve disappears, "I...I want you."

The smile on Jeonghan's face is victorious, a smile you've seen million times before, a smile that makes you week in the knees. "Good girl." He says encasing your lips in another kiss before standing up holding out his hand. "Come along, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you for any other man. Even when it's morning you'll only be thinking about me," he whispers in your ear before tugging you out of the porch- your heart hammering in your chest as you squeeze the scarf on your hand.

Fuck, you owe Mingyu a fruit basket or some shit now.

A/N 2: Also, that video of Jeonghan exercising made me 🥵🥵 this man is so infurating. I was literally dehydrated from watching that video.

[ushiwakaa]

𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a mangaka who draws from your own experiences to write your stories. your new editor disapproves this method.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: akaashi keiji x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, hanahaki au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: suicidal thoughts/ideation, blood, vomit, major character death

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2 k

𝐚/𝐧: this was written for the cheese cult’s hanahaki fic event !! djnfjdngjnjfnjnjngjn this took me so , so , so long to write because every version i wrote ended up hitting the same brick wall of unimaginable angst and believe it or not, this is probably the happiest version. i was supposed to post this two whole as days ago but hey , at least it happened

From over the cover of the fairytale he reads, the young boy boy peers at you with soft sage eyes — checking to see if you’re still awake. You are, but you’re careful to keep your eyes closed, face buried into the blanket. 

“The end,” the young boy finishes softly, closing his book.

He gingerly places the book to the side before sliding in next to you under the covers. You can feel his eyes on you for another moment before he takes a deep breath — there’s a secret, a confession, something on the tip of his tongue. 

You never hear it.

You wake up with a start, a cough half-way up your throat. You cough and cough and cough until the first bud breaks air, tickling the back of your throat. You reach your fingers into your mouth and pull. 

Bitterly, you stare at the withering bouquet in your hands. 

The flowers are wet with your saliva — only a hint of blood coating the white of the petals. 

When you went to the doctor about it, she said you were lucky. She said that your flowers were so small, you could go your entire life with an unrequited love and they would leave your respiratory system alone. She also added, no doctor in their right mind would perform a removal surgery on a person who was more likely to die on the table, then by their illness. 

While cultivating roses would be painful, at least it would be a quick death.

Like every other day, you toss out the pathetic string of baby’s breath in the garbage bin as you head into the washroom to wash out your mouth. 

You get off of the train at a quarter to ten — thankfully on time for your meeting. 

Kaori gives a friendly smile when you enter her office. Even behind her desk, you can see her burgeoning belly. Despite pushing eight months into her pregnancy, she beams. In her smile, she wears the name brand brightness that they all share — the people with a requited love, that is. The lucky ones whose flowers weren’t fed with misery and tears.

You try your best not to resent her but your jealousy bleeds when you sit in the glossy, apple green chair.

“How are you?” Kaori asks, her gentle eyes watching you.

You give a vague shrug, a small smile. “Sad that this is it.”

She’s pleased by this answer, giving a laugh. It reminds you of blue bells rustling in the wind. “I’ll be back and ready to work on your next series before you know it.”

You give an empty chuckle.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look. A man stands in the doorway — staring at Kaori dryly. His plain neutrals are out of place in her bright office but her brightness doesn’t flicker as she waves him in. You play with the sleeve of your severely drab cotton blouse as you wonder if that’s how you look here. 

“Akaashi! Glad you could make it.” 

He gives a slight bow to Kaori first, then you. You stop fiddling with your sleeve and return the bow while seated. He takes a seat in the chair opposite to you (Kaori dubbed it the pineapple throne after its piss yellow hue). He’s too tall for it. It’s almost comical. You might write that in for one of your characters.

“(Y/N), this is Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi, this is (L/N) (Y/N).” She turns to you. “He will be taking over as your editor for the last volume while I’m on maternity leave.” 

You look over at him — “Akaashi… Keiji?” 

At an arm's length, you can see the gentle slope of his nose and the delicate curl of the eyelashes that frame the muted green of his eyes. There’s something that’s strangely familiar about him but you can’t put your finger on it. You know him. You don’t know how, but you do.

“I look forward to working with you.”

You smile, but at the back of your throat, you can feel a familiar itch beginning to grow.

Despite the connection your body draws to him, Akaashi doesn’t show any recognition in return. 

He taps his pen lightly on the paper. “What’s going on here? What’s your plan for this girl?”

You peer over the desk to look at the character on trial — the panel shows the short haired girl spewing forget-me-nots into the trash bin. Immediately, you frown. It’s annoying that he doesn’t know her name. She is literally one of three main characters.

“Konoka?” You settle back into your seat. “She’s going to die.”

He looks up at you. “I gathered that much, but why?”

If the robot says it, it really must not make sense but then again, you doubt he even understood the nuances of the series if he couldn’t even remember Konoka’s name. “Because she has Hanahaki Disease.”

“Okay, but —” if you hadn’t been growing annoyed by his flat tone, you might’ve swooned at the softness, “forget-me-nots are small. She couldn’t possibly die of Hanahaki.”

“That’s why she kills herself.”

He’s silent for a moment, calculating his next words. “...You realize that she’s one of your most beloved characters, right? Your readers don’t want to see her die like that.”

“This is the trajectory the story has been on since she and Tanaka met again.” Your tone is more charged than you intend, but you can’t help but defend Konoka’s decision fiercely. “She has to commit suicide. It’s the only way she can move on.”

“Yes, but Kanoka—”

Pointedly, you cut him off, “Thank you for your opinion but I refuse to compromise on that.” 

He purses his lips. “I sincerely ask you to reconsider.”

“I will not compromise my artistic integrity for your comfort.”

“Killing characters off isn’t profound. It isn’t always necessary.”

“In this case, it is.” Your cheeks burn red as you stand up for yourself — this fight is on a personal level. “I’m not killing her for shock value. I’m killing her because every night, Konoka dreams about Tanaka, and everyday, she wakes up and throws up flowers because she knows he doesn’t love her back. I’m killing her because there’s no one else for her. I’m killing her because the flowers won’t and that — that’s more painful.”

The silence in the aftermath of your rant is deafening. He says nothing to you for another moment, staring into the smoulder of your eyes with a calculating stare. It might be a mistake to appeal to the emotional aspect of it — after all, you sort of doubt he has any at this point — but, at the root of it, that’s what it is: an emotional problem.

“Fine,” he says. “You still have to redo this panel, though.”

Your mouth burns with a minty tang as you walk back into your room — drawn over by the buzzing sound of your ringer. Looking at the caller I.D., you have half a mind to throw it across the room and get back under the covers. 

But, with all the professionalism you can muster at nine in the morning, you say, “Hello?”

“Are you finished with the second draft?” Akaashi’s flat drawl reverbs through the speaker.

You resist the urge to sigh. “Yes.”

“Can you come by the office to drop it off?”

“Today?” You scratch absently at your collarbone. “Uh… I can swing by tomorrow, but if you really need it today — you can pick it up from my apartment?” 

There’s silence on the other line — likely weighing the pros and cons. In the weeks you’ve worked under him, you’ve noticed that he does nothing without proper evaluation. 

“Is three o’clock alright?”

You’re in the middle of vacuuming when a knock at the door interrupts you. While you’re expecting it, you’re not any less annoyed. You open the door with a tight smile, manuscript already in hand. Akaashi gives a monotone greeting in his monotone clothes with his monotone face. 

“Hello. May I use your washroom?” 

You give a sigh as you open the door wider. “The door on the left.”

He enters your apartment, neatly putting his shoes by the door. You toss the manuscript back on the counter. You meant to send him on his way, but, because he’s already here, you put on a kettle to boil. 

“I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

You turn around at the comment, looking at your editor with a raised brow. “I’m still killing Konoka.”

He’s a different person when you look at him. For once, there’s something behind his eyes — a sharpness to his gaze. That feeling returns — the one that sees flowers tickling at your trachea.

Gravely, he repeats. “I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.” 

He must’ve seen your garbage bin. You feel ready to throw something else up now.

“Tell me about them,” Akaashi says.

“About who?”

“Whoever it is you’re willing to die for.”

“I…” You feel faint as you rub at your clavicle. “I don’t think you want to hear this.”

“That’s why I asked, isn’t it?” 

So you do. 

You swallow your pride as you tell him about the little boy you once knew. You tell him about the summer you didn’t leave each other’s side and how one day, while you were camping, you woke up next to him and he was coughing petals and buds and thorns. When his parents took him to the hospital, he never came back and you didn’t get to ask any questions before they moved away. 

You tell him that you started dying that day. That the doctors told your parents that the surgery was too risky for your age. That when you came back a few years later, they told you that it was still too risky when the chances of your death were slim. Some days are better than most, you tell him, but because you never stop thinking about him, you’ll never get better. 

It’s the same story that you are writing. 

Akaashi looks at you for a solemn moment, watching you with incredible disbelief. He’s going to call you an over-dramatic idiot for wanting to die over a childhood crush. If it wasn’t your reality, you’d agree with him too. What a stupid reason to die.

But then, he coughs. When he moves his hands from his mouth, both your stomachs drop while you stare in horror at the soft petal, sopping wet with his blood. 

His eyes widen the same time yours do. Immediately, the phone is in your hand, calling an ambulance.

He thinks he’s dying.

This feeling now, and the feeling from back then... They’re one in the same.

That night, you fell asleep facing him. Your button nose and dark lashes were illuminated by the glow created by his flashlight. It wasn’t until he peered over the cover of the book, he realized that you were knocked out cold.

“You’re so pretty,” he wanted to say.

Instead, a coughing fit seized him, which woke you in turn. He’d been complaining about a dry throat recently, so you disappeared to get him a water from the coolers outside of the tent. 

When you came back, the sleeping bag was littered with bloodied petals. The chilled bottle hit the floor as you gave a blood-curdling scream.

This time, when Akaashi wakes up in the hospital, he’s already coughing. In rapid succession, four blood-soaked petals of varying sizes, the round bud they were plucked from, and two thorns spew from his mouth. He looks at you, startled, more emotion than you’ve ever seen him exhibit. 

Your eyes are red rimmed and swollen.

Gently, you pick up the debris littering his lap and toss it into the garbage beside you. The thorns fall through the maze of baby’s breath you had also coughed up and hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud. 

"Keiji?” you sniffle, your voice soft. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he answers. Akaashi chuckles but you can see the blood dribble from his mouth. You wipe at his chapped lips with a tissue.

“The doctor said to call him when you woke up. Let me just —” You feel dizzy as you stand, maybe a touch overwhelmed. “I’m going to go get him.”

There’s a minuscule tug at your hand. When you look down at Akaashi, he’s watching you. His eyes are still a faint shade of green, but there’s a new shine behind them.

“Can I tell you something first?” You hesitate for a second. Then, you nod. “I hope you reconsider your decision.” In the chaos of the past few hours, you had forgotten the matter that brought you here. “I want Konoka to choose herself over Tanaka. Even if she coughs up flowers everyday... I want her to live.”

You take Akaashi’s hand — large, smooth, and cold — in yours. “I can do that.”

“I know that it hurts, but she needs to know that means she’s alive.” You squeeze lightly as his words resonate within you. “I haven’t felt pain in a decade. But, that means I haven’t felt anything. Right now?” He gives you a small smile. “I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”

Gently letting go of him, you say, “I’ll get you the doctor.” 

You wince when he coughs again — loud and wet. A confession in this final hour won’t do anything. The withered flowers have to come out somehow. 

Still, “I love you,” you try. 

He smiles weakly back at you. “I love you too.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @milk-n-writings @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq​ @badlywritten-hq​ @mochibeaa​ @oinkanna​ @chxrry-wxne​ @spudicide​ @airybby​ @asranomical​ @karmasuna​

[clevercatchphrase]

2020 Year Review~

2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.

Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!

So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;

Finish paying off that last student loan

Put more stuff on my redbubble

Illustrate my own fan fics

Sew at least one stuffed animal

Make an enamel pin

Read one new book a month

Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make

Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch

Boost my patreon

 Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~

Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?

 Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)

 Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.

 Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)

 Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:

 The Hive Queen

The Poison Jungle

Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer

Dealing With Dragons

Searching For Dragons

Calling on Dragons

Talking to Dragons

The Bronze Dragon Codex

The Brass Dragon Codex

The Black Dragon Codex

The Red Dragon Codex

The Silver Dragon Codex

Dragon Strike, and

Hatching Magic

 To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)

 Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.

 Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.

 Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.

 And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)

 Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~

 ON TO 2021!

 I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;

 Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)

Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it

Script TDV

Finish Scripting Ghost Switch

Build A Comic Buffer

Sew 1 Stuffed Animal

Finish 1 Song Comic

Make another Enamel Pin

Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)

Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics

 Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.

 1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)

 2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)

 3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?

 4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.

 5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)

 6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.

 7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~

 8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)

 9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)

 11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~

 Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.

 Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.

 For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.

 I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)

 Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.

 I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.

 I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.

 Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.

 I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.

 I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)

 I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)

 Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)

 Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.

 Good night.

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 8 - secrets, running over my soul without sound

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AO3

Masterlist

(TW: mild violence, panic attacks, and negative self talk)

(The title for this chapter comes from "Secrets" by Lola Ridge)

"Life went on like that for years," Dorian muttered, staring into the fire with his knuckles resting against his lips. Roman's eyes hadn't left the demon's face in a dozen minutes. It hadn't changed. It hadn't so much as twitched aside from his mouth moving as the words flowed. It was inhuman, though Roman figured that would make sense. Dorian wasn't exactly human himself.

Anymore, at least.

Still, Roman didn't see how this related to himself, or his curse, but he didn't dare interrupt. Somehow, he knew that if he stopped him now, he may not start again—tonight at least. Roman glanced at the mouth of the cave. They had maybe an hour until his curse would lift.

"The Witchlands didn't see a hint of Ursula for years, but there were whispers. The pixies spread rumors of the Dragon Witch returning, of her finding something; a weapon of some sort. Something that surpassed anything Rosemary had only dreamed of. She heard the rumors and she..." his voice cracked, and he blinked slowly, meeting Roman's gaze. His eyes, the human one and the other, were dry. Unswollen, and not even a little bit red, and yet full of so much pain and suffering and downright exhaustion Roman physically felt it.

He sniffed, and looked down again. "She had me... dispel the rumors. Over the course of the next few months, I became known as Bloodwyrm. An omen of death. When stories were written, it was I that the heroes were sent to slay. Children were compelled to be good for fear of my wrath." He shifted. "But I digress. At one point or another, Ursula circumvented the magical borders around the Witchlands she could no longer cross, and sent her familiar into the castle to steal another one of the queen's chosen projects. I took care of it swiftly enough, but Rosemary was paranoid. In a show of power, she drafted a curse in my own blood and had an envoy sent to deliver the letter to Ursula. You should have received a similar letter detailing your own curse."

It took Roman a while to realize he was being addressed and nodded quickly. He'd become enthralled and almost forgot why he was telling the story in the first place.

"This curse, however, was created so that it would enact itself as soon as Ursula opened the letter and read it."

"Why'd she open it, then?" Roman said, his first words in several hours. "She knew what it was, right?"

"Yes. Of course she knew what it was, but you can't simply reject these sorts of letters," Dorian explained, smiling at him as if he were a child asking why the sky was blue. "Back to the point of all this. Upon opening the letter, the curse began. According to the words of the queen, I was to hunt Ursula to the ends of the earth, never resting until her blood wetted my fangs and she lay dead before me. Compelled by its power, I left the Witchlands, never to return until my task was finished. I had confidence that, if I could not kill her myself, at least I would outlive her and be able to return, once more, to my homeland. However," Dorian's face grew hard, "Ursula proved far more intelligent than Rosemary had given her credit. After only forty-five years, she managed to perfect what Rosemary could not. Even as I pursued her with tireless advances, she somehow harnessed immortality—the correct way. And so I found myself stuck in a never ending cycle, of unkillable chasing unkillable, both trying to end the other."

"Okay," Roman said slowly, "I still don't see what this has to do with me."

"When someone as powerful as the Witch Queen dies, to continue her legacy, she can create what is called a Witch's Inheritance. Such an inheritance guarantees that her firstborn—and every firstborn's firstborn after that—receives the full potential of her powers. You, little prince, are a direct descendent of the Witch Queen, and thus have unimaginable power."

Roman barked a laugh, "I think I would have noticed if—"

"You are the firstborn of your mother, correct?" Dorian cut in, losing patience.

"Yeah?"

"And she was the eldest of her siblings, was she not?"

Roman swallowed. "Yes. She was."

"This is not our greatest issue, so please, just know that I tell you the truth and let us move on," Dorian said, glancing at the readily lightening skyline. The fire popped. "In her old age, Rosemary's anger overcame her and she banished her eldest son from the Witchlands after he claimed she was not fit to rule any longer. The inheritance was lost from the royal line, and that is why your ancestors lived out here, in the human realm. Rosemary died, and I was left fulfilling a curse I had no hand in. Ursula knew of this line of power and, after decades of constantly running from me, decided to take advantage of her enemy's latent power. She hunted down each and every firstborn she could find, forcing them to become her champions and keep me at bay for her."

Roman's mind worked as if swimming through a pool of molasses, connecting the dots he never knew were there before.

"Your family tree was, at one point, enormous. Hundreds of children born with the Witch's Inheritance to choose from. However, as they were all born outside of the Witchlands, only a few ever discovered their powers or developed them well enough to stand a chance against me. At most, an heir could keep me at bay for half a decade, maybe more, but in the end, I would kill them."

Dorian leaned forward. "You are the last heir of the Witch's Inheritance, little prince."

Roman stared at the fire, pressing his mouth against his interlaced hands. He felt faint. "So," he began, his voice no more than a whisper, "my mother... you... you killed..."

"I did. I will not speak of her with any hint of authority, but know that you have my deepest apologies and condolences."

"Condolences?" Roman hissed, looking up at the demon through wet eyes. "You ripped my life apart. You're the reason my dad's so—" his voice caught in his throat. He shot to his feet.

"You must understand," Dorian said, making no move to stand. "The curse does not allow me to stop. I must be making a constant effort to find and kill Ursula. Whoever that witch sticks in my path I must kill, no matter the circumstances."

"I don't care!" Roman shouted, the tears finally spilling over. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself cry about his mother. He'd always had to be the rock in his relationship with his father. He wasn't allowed to be the sad one, but now... it was different.

"Sit down," Dorian insisted, meeting his eye.

"I'm leaving," Roman growled, making for the entrance of the cave. The curse would lift soon and he couldn't stand to look at the creature in front of him any long—

CRACK! 

Dorian's body exploded out into its serpentine form, filling the entire front half of the cave and blocking the exit completely. Roman stumbled back, nearly missing the fire. The roof of the cave shuddered and Roman looked up nervously. Dorian's head shot forward, knocking Roman into the stone wall.

"We had a deal, little prince, and I will not sit here and let a child throw a tantrum while there are far more important things happening in this world! Your mother is dead, and there is nothing you or I can do about it!"

"Shut up!" he shouted, reaching for his pistol.

"Do not insult me with your toys, little—ACK...krghh!" the demon cried as Roman shot him in the mouth. He stood there, battling with himself over running away or filling the demon's mouth with every bullet he had. Old, dusty feelings combined to create a shapeless thing inside him. Its fingers tore into the soil he'd tirelessly compacted over the coffin where he'd trapped his grief and pain for the sake of his father.

A wall of scales slammed into Roman's chest, and he saw stars as his head cracked against the stone floor. Dorian pinned him underneath his incredible weight, blood trailing out of the corners of his mouth and down his scales.

"Get ahold of yourself," he snapped. "We don't have time for this. If you want to learn about your curse and how to break it, you must listen to me."

Roman writhed under the snake's immense body, barely able to breath. He guessed it was pretty fortunate they'd already made the deal and the demon wasn't able to kill him anymore.

"Fine," he managed, the fight leaving him. "Tell me what I need to know."

                                                * * * * * * * * * *

Logan sat in the dark of his empty classroom atop one of the desks, his feet on the chair. Under normal circumstances, he'd never ignore the proper use of a chair, but he was restless. 

Long ago, when they had all been in highschool themselves, Virgil had offered his solution of "sitting on things that weren't meant to be sat on" as a way of helping himself focus or gain new perspectives—literally and figuratively. He rested his elbows on his knees and pressed his chin into his hands, staring blankly at the wall. He could hear the teacher in the classroom adjacent to his prepping their classroom, the faint sound of staples being pressed into the felt siding bleeding through the wall. 

Logan had finished setting his own classroom up days ago, and was now focused on preparing for the first day of school next week. Or rather, he had been focused. His attempts at being productive had borne little fruit, as Roman's reluctant explanation of his interaction with the demon—Dorian—and this so-called solution to his curse earlier that morning had plagued his thoughts.

Roman had come back numb and quiet, the way he always was after blowing up. His anger always left him empty and sad and far too much like his father for Logan’s liking. 

He hadn’t been covered in blood and injuries, so at least there was that. Instead, Logan had sat on the end of Roman’s bed and listened as he explained what had happened. 

There was no other solution.

The only way to break the curse was for Roman to die. He’d made a deal only to get information he’d already had. 

Before Logan could storm into the forest and give that demon a piece of his mind, Roman stopped him. He explained, in soft trembling tones, the loophole. The answer to their problem, given by the very source of the issue itself.

The amulet Ursula gave him. According to Dorian, the amulet would allow Roman to die and, upon its removal, bring him back. It was a terrifying thought. All they had to go on was the word of an untrustworthy magical beast who, until quite recently, had been seeking Roman’s life by any means necessary. This could be a trap. In fact, it was  most likely a trap. A ploy to trick Roman into killing himself over some foolish hope of freeing himsel—

“Mr. Sanders?”

Logan jerked, looking up. Two students stood in the doorway, the light of the hallway behind them hiding their faces. 

One leaned forward, “Um… why are you sitting in the dark?”

He cleared his throat, standing up and straightening his suit. “It’s of no importance. What can I do for you two?” He turned on the light.

“I’m Karla,” said the little blonde one on the right, “I’m in fifth grade.”

“Congratulations,” Logan said, dipping his head. “However, I’m afraid this is a fourth grade classroom.”

“Oh, I know,” Karla said, swinging the hand she had clasped in her friend’s. “But Hye-mi is. I’m showing her around. She’s from Korea but she’s living with me and my family for a bit!”

“Salutations, Hye-mi,” Logan said, squatting down and holding out a hand. She looked to Karla nervously, who nodded. The shy girl shook Logan’s hand. 

“I look forward to having you in my class.”

“Thank you,” she said, bowing. Logan returned the gesture. The two girls turned and left, chattering and giggling to each other. 

Logan watched them leave, his smile slowly fading. His friendly, cordial self deflated like a balloon into the reserved, worried state he’d been in all morning. With a slow hand, he turned the light off again and lowered onto a desk. 

He covered his face with his hands.

                                                * * * * * * * * * *

Virgil raced down the stairs, leaning over the banister. "Hey, Pat?"

"Hm?" Patton hummed, looking up from the notebook he was doodling in. He'd gotten off work early today, or rather, he'd been sent home by his mother, but he wouldn't explain why. 

"Do we have anymore Quee—er, rosemary lying around?"

"Rosemary?" Patton set his pen down and wandered over to the herb and spice cupboard. "Why do you need that?"

Virgil's mind raced for a believable lie. "I like how it smells," he managed, trying to sound casual. "I wanted to put some in my room."

"Oh, okay," Patton shrugged, pulling down a jar. "Looks like we're out of whole leaves, but I've got some ground rosemary around here somewhere. Will that work? I can run to the store—"

"Ground is fine," Virgil said, descending the last half of the stairs and meeting Patton in the kitchen. 

He handed him the plastic container, smiling, "Dinner's going to be in an hour or so, once Logan gets home." He looked at the clock, "He should be back any minute now..."

"What're you making?"

"Not sure," he mused, looking around. "I need to use up the rest of the tomatoes before they go bad, so maybe some pasta? I'll have to run to Mia's anyway to pick up some garlic and oregano..."

Virgil looked at him for a moment, forgetting to say something. Patton was the kindest human he'd ever met, and he'd met a lot. It was curious to Virgil how someone could be so optimistic and selfless without getting anything in return. Of course, the three of them always made sure to thank Patton and do nice things for him whenever the opportunity arose. 

"Is something wrong, Virge?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "What?"

Patton smiled, amused. "You were staring at me."

"Oh, uh, sorry. Thanks for the rosemary," he stammered, then hurried off up the stairs. 

That was another thing about humans he never understood: how they managed to fluster him without seemingly any effort at all. 

Alone in his room, Virgil dipped his fingers into the squat plastic container of rosemary powder and traced runic circles around himself on the floor. He'd made sure to lock his door beforehand, not wanting to explain to Patton or Roman why he was drawing on the ground with herbs. 

Speaking of Roman, he hadn't left his room this morning. Logan told them he wasn't feeling well, and had already been provided the necessary medicine and supplies to take care of himself. It took several more minutes, however, to convince Patton that Roman simply didn't want to be bothered. Virgil couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with the curse.

Was he still in the mindset of letting the demon kill him? No, if he was, he'd be dead already. Dorian wasn't one to waste time when an opportunity was granted him. What had happened then? There was only one logical explanation, though the prospect filled Virgil with dread. 

He'd made a deal. Or was about to. 

One thing was for sure, Virgil needed to find his button. Then he could help Roman. Then he'd be useful.  

The spell he was about to perform to locate Remus wasn't hard. It was a basic spell that every six-year-old witch knew. As a familiar, he could also perform magic, in the technical sense. In fact, as a magical creature himself, it should be easier. 

But he wasn't like every other familiar out there. 

He was broken, thanks to that slimy snake. Dependent on a stupid talisman to perform all but the most simple of magics. Transforming into a human, for one, was something every familiar was inherently able to do. There wasn't much technical magic involved, hence Virgil's retained ability to do so. The spell he'd used previously to figure out what happened to his button were easy enough, with the stabilizing power of Queensleaf to help him. He wasn't too sure how ground Queensleaf would fair, but hoped it would be enough. 

This spell, however, would be different. He'd have to call on spirits—something he hadn't done in decades. Finding a human was one thing, but a hobgoblin who didn't want to be found? Near impossible on his own... but he had to try. He had to do something. 

He couldn't let Roman deal with this on his own anymore. 

Dipping his fingers in the powder once more, he scrawled Remus's name on the floor in witchtongue—not as strong of a link as his true name would elicit, but it would have to do. 

Finishing, he muttered some quick words under his breath and lit the circle of seven candles surrounding the rosemary sigil. Stepping out of the circle himself, he plucked a few of his hairs and sprinkled them across it. 

He took a breath, holding out a hand. "Alight your eyes to find who's lost, spirits grim and gaunt; scan the stars and ground below to bring me what I want." 

The light in the room dipped, the shadows in the corners solidifying and oozing to the ground like slime. The hair on the back of Virgil's neck stood stick straight, and his heart hammered in his chest. Not that he was scared of the spirits; he'd performed far more terrifying magic in his time. No, he was terrified for an entirely different reason. 

He felt the slow seeping feeling of power leaving him filled his chest, hitching and limping along like a crippled animal. Hollow screams that sounded a million miles away filled his ears and breathed across his face as a swarm of spirits materialized before him. The specters' faint, almost childlike chanting began and Virgil bit the inside of his mouth. He had to hurry and send them off before it finished.

The Song of Death. 

He'd heard the first half of it before. It was intoxicatingly beautiful and many a witch had lost their lives listening to it in its entirety. 

A slow ache pulled in his chest cavity, steadily growing more and more painful. The halted progression of the spell devolved into a grating, freezing sensation. Fear sprouted in Virgil's mind as he swayed, suddenly dizzy. What was he thinking? He wouldn't be able to complete a spell like this without his button! One of the great dangers of magic every witch learned in their youth was to never experiment with magic more powerful than themselves. Once a spell started, it could rarely be stopped. If you weren't strong enough to endure it... 

But, he'd done far more complex magic than this before! Dozens of times! Well, back before he became this broken, pathetic version of himself. Before he'd lost his talisman and reduced to nothing more than a cat with a few party tricks. Magic was like a muscle. Leave it stagnant for too long, and it atrophied. 

Virgil's fingers and toes went numb with cold. The spirits danced around him, the soft, enticing song filling his ears and making his brain go all fuzzy. The shadows swelled as if breathing, circling the room. The song was lilting and warm, like slipping into a bath of warm water after trekking through the snow for hours on end. It felt good. Virgil slumped to the ground, relaxing into it. 

How nice it would be, to never have to worry about anything ever again? To finally sleep without being tortured by nightmares of Ursula or Bloodwyrm?

Virgil couldn't breathe. The spirits surrounded him, enveloping him their frostbitten embrace. One more idiot familiar to add to their ranks. His chest spasmed and tears ran down the side of his head, but he still felt calm. The song was nearing its end. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before. Absolutely beautiful. 

.

.

.

Slow.

Cold.

So cold he felt warm.

The spirits shifted. Agitated. Something was coming. Already here? 

Annoyed muttering. Worried whispers. Shouts. Screams. Shrieks of rage and spikes of pain driven through every point of Virgil's body. He couldn't move, let alone react to the pain. Left alone in his mind to suffer through it. And then... 

Heat. 

Searing heat so intense Virgil felt like he was burning up. The spirits vanished, running from it. He coughed, spluttering up water that wasn't there, finding himself wrapped in someone's arms. He was shivering, yet felt like he'd been boiled alive at the same time. Every breath felt like fire. 

"...gil! Virgil, wake up! Please, don't be dead. Please!" A voice cried, shaking him. Or maybe it was just their arms trembling. It sounded like Logan. 

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft gurgle of pain. Quivering hands brushed his bangs out of his eyes. They were wet. Why were they wet? He opened his eyes a small amount despite the clanging, throbbing pain ricocheting through his skull.

"Logan?"

"You're alive," Logan breathed, relaxing somewhat. He rested his head on Virgil's, repeating, "You're alive," over and over again, as if he couldn't quite convince himself. 

"What..." he started, looking around as fast as his head would allow him. The spirits were gone. Had the spell worked? His eyes fell to the dark sigil on the floor. The rosemary was broken, swiped away and smeared across the floor. Dark black scorch marks remained where the sigil once had been. 

"What happened?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me," Logan snorted, releasing Virgil. He scrambled back, knocking his head against the foot of his bed. 

Panic started bubbling up inside his throat. He knew. There was no more hiding. Logan knew, then he'd tell the others and then they'd all hate him and he wouldn't be able to help Roman anyway because he was too much of a pathetic weakling to even complete a simple spell—

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I apologize, Virgil," Logan said softly, holding his hands up submissively. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I simply want to make sure you are okay."

"No, it's... I can't—You won't," he hiccupped, unable to get the words out. Why couldn't he get the words out? He couldn't breathe again. Was he dying again? It didn't matter, because that was his last resort. That was it. The spell didn't work. He wasn't strong enough to help his friend. Wasn't good enough. 

"Virgil, I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?" He reached out and touched Virgil's hand. A sob escaped his mouth and he jerked away. Why would Logan touch him? Why be near him? He was loathsome. Undeserving. A complete and utter waste of space that—

"For thee the sun doth daily rise, and set behind the curtain of the hills of sleep."

Undeserving. Loathsome. Why even try—

"And my soul, passing through the nether deep, broods on thy love, and never can forget. For thee the garlands of the wood are wet, for thee the daisies up the meadow's sweep stir in the sidelong light, and for thee weep the drooping ferns above the violet." 

Virgil looked up through his puffy, watering eyes, chest still stuttering. What was Logan doing?

He leaned back against the bed next to Virgil, his face the epitome of calm. "For thee the labour of my studious ease I ply with hope, for thee all pleasures please, thy sweetness doth the bread of sorrow leaven..."

Virgil began to breathe easier. 

"And from thy noble lips and heart of gold I drink the comfort of the faiths of old, and thy perfection is my proof of heaven," he finished, opening his eyes and looked sidelong at Virgil. "Feeling better?"

"What was that?"

He smiled. "George Santayana's forty-fourth sonnet. One of my favorites, actually."

Virgil bit his lip, still hugging his knees, though markedly calmer and more collected. "How did you... know how to break the spell?"

"It was only logical," he replied, sobering. 

Virgil took a breath. "Listen, I know you probably have a million questions and aren't even sure if you can trust me, or—"

"You're right," he said, and Virgil's throat constricted. "I do have a plethora of questions for you, but you don't have to answer them right now. I only ask that you explain one thing to me."

"Okay."

Logan's brow knit together. "What was the purpose of the spell?"

"I... was trying to find someone."

"That is all?"

He nodded, then asked. "Where are Patton and Roman?"

"Patton is out acquiring ingredients for dinner tonight," Logan replied. "He was leaving right as I returned home. Roman, I'm assuming, is in his room bingeing Parks and Recreation and eating a pint of ice cream. I doubt he heard anything, if that's what you are concerned about."

"You mean, you won't tell them?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"How are you so... okay with all of this?" he muttered. "You're acting like you see this kind of stuff every other day."

Logan chuckled and stood, approaching the door. "It isn't quite like that."

He gave Virgil one last reassuring smile before closing the door. 

[dirtydobrik]

special guest - d.d.

plot: you and david just recently announced that you were dating and one night while david and jason record the podcast, they bring you on as a special guest

requested: yes! One where you’re a special guest on the podcast after David recently revealed his relationship with you?(love your writing 🥺💕)

author’s note: hi! this was requested over a month ago and i completely forgot that i had it in my drafts😅

if you want to send in a request for an imagine, send me a message! i am super behind on requests right now but i have a few pieces in progress that i am working on. i am hopefully back to posting daily because i am trying to get caught up.

word count: 1225

masterlist

 "What's up guys, welcome back to Views," David said, introducing the podcast. You were sitting in the bean bag in David's living room, half listening to the playful banter between David and Jason while scrolling through your phone. They talked and argued about a few different topics for a while, before David said something that caught your attention.

"If you didn't know, I posted vlog last week and revealed that I have a girlfriend. We've been together for a little over six months. She's absolutely amazing." He gushed, and you couldn’t help but blush at David's words, a smile spreading across both of your faces.

"It's good to see you so happy, Dave," Jason said sincerely. "Especially since she's helped mellow you out and it gives me a little more peace and quiet," he joked, earning a laugh from David and a small giggle from you.

"She definitely brings out the best in me," David grinned, looking over at you and meeting your eyes. "She's fucking incredible. I won't bore you guys with the details but, yeah, she's just the best." David "She's sitting behind us while we record this. Why don't we bring her out?" Jason suggested.

"Sounds great, Jase. That is, if you're okay with it," David replied, turning to you to make sure you wanted to do it, and you happily agreed. You moved from your seat on the love sac to the couch, sitting with your legs over David's lap since you two had to share a microphone. "I wish we still videoed the podcast so you guys could see how these two are sitting. It's disgusting," Jason scoffed.

"You're just bitter because you're single and I'm in love," David teased and Jason quickly flipped him off. "Why don’t you introduce yourself, babe?" David tilted the shared microphone towards you. You gave a brief introduction of who you were and what you did to let the listeners know a little bit about you.

"So Dave," Jason started, sounding like he was interviewing the two of you. "After your breakup with Liza, you said you didn't want to have a public relationship again. What made you reconsider?"

"I don't know, man. We had to keep our relationship a secret for so long and I just wanted to be able to talk about her." "We don't really want to publicize every aspect of our relationship. David just wanted to let his fans know that I exist," you added.

"I'm just so excited that I don't have to hide her anymore. And I mean obviously not everything will be shared because our privacy is important since she's not a public figure. And because she's just a normal girl, she shouldn't have to deal with hate comments, so guys please don't send my girlfriend hate. She doesn't deserve it. She's truly the best person I have ever met and she makes me a better person. And yeah, I just love her," David rambled, not able to shut up about you.

"I love you, too, bub," you smiled, looking up at him and reminding him that you were still sitting next to him.  

"The fact that you haven't left Dave yet blows my mind," Jason chuckled. "You could do so much better than someone with the mental age of a six-year-old."

"Jase, shut up," David groaned. "I know she could do so much better than me, but don't tell her that."

"I'm just saying. There's no reason for her to settle for you when she could get literally any guy she wanted," Jason continued.

"I'm sitting right here," you giggled. "And besides, David's the only guy I want." Then you dropped you voice to a low whisper and covered the microphone before turning to David, "I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry."

"So give me the details. Where and how did you meet? Who made the first move? All the good stuff," Jason insisted.

"I don't want to bore you guys by talking about my relationship for half of the episode but since Jason asked," David started, looking at you to make sure you were okay with sharing personal details of your relationship. You gave a small nod and David started talking again. "We met in a meeting. She was interning for a company that I did a brand deal for and she was the only person around my age. They brought her in because she had social media marketing experience and my manager wanted someone with those skills on the team to negotiate contracts because the older men in the company didn't know much about it. I technically made the first move because I asked for her number, but it was strictly for business at that point. She made the first relationship move by flirting with me during a business lunch. It was super distracting but I didn't want her to stop. Sorry, am I rambling?"

"You are, but it's fine. Joe will just edit this all out anyways," Jason joked.

"Anyways," David said, jumping back into where he left off. "She was flirting with me throughout the entire lunch and I didn't really know at this point so I didn’t know if it was her personality or if she was actually interested in me. But after lunch she sent me text that explicitly stated that she was flirting with me and was waiting for me to say something."

"Is that true?" Jason asked you, seeming genuinely shocked since you were a quiet person and didn't seem like the type to make the first move.

Your cheeks turned red and you were suddenly embarrassed as you gave a weak nod. "Yeah, I did make the first move," you confirmed.

"And I'm thankful that you did every day," David beamed, kissing the top of your head as you smiled up at him.

"Alright guys, well that's all the time we have for today's podcast. Thank you guys for listening and a huge thank you to our special guest this week. If you guys want to know more about her and our relationship, I'll try to convince her to film a Q and A with me something."

"Bullshit," you muttered, cutting him off, "I'll be the one that has to convince you to film one." And David couldn't help but laugh, because it was true.

"I'm David and that's Jason. Bye guys. My name Jeff," David finished, ending the podcast.

Joe packed up the equipment and Jason got up to go home since it was late, but you were comfortable and didn't want to get up.

"Thanks for doing that," David whispered, mindlessly tracing circles on your thigh. "I appreciated it."

"I know you two have been losing listeners, so I'm glad I could help out," you teased.

"I'm serious, babe. It felt so good to finally be able to openly talk about our relationship."

"It did," you sighed happily, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around him. “Thanks for wanting to have me on the podcast. I know it’s yours and Jason’s thing and I don’t want to overstep.”

“You didn’t. Of course I want you on the podcast. I want you in every part of my life,” he said seriously, giving you a quick peck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dave,” you smiled up at him.

[yayee-prsp]

I was talking with a friend about this idea I have been having for a while, so i ended writing and drawing about them.

(It is a rough draft and i have no beta so all the mistakes are mine ,,)

The background is blurred from this

That time when Grantaire writes on cups.

Courfeyrac and Jehan have a café.

It is a small thing. Two stories building in a small space, cosy and warm, filled with different flowers every day at the request of Jehan himself. Various paintings and dried flowers are put up almost everywhere. Everything is environment-friendly, Jehan has made sure of it. No straws unless requested, uses paper cups and only a few plastic ones, with recycle bin near. Located in a quieter part of town, only a few people know of this place, but those who discover it will surely come around again for more.

The atmosphere is always warm, no matter how cold the weather is. It might be from the smell of coffee and tea lingering around and in the air at all time when you enter, or because of how welcoming Courfeyrac and Jehan are - or maybe both. Courfeyrac will always greet you with a smile and ask you about your day, while Jehan will always leave a small poem for you on your cup - a cheery little thing for your day.

One of the patrons is, of course, the friends of the owners'. A group of students who called themselves 'Les Amis de L'ABC', or the friends of the abase. They are a group of students who wish to change the world, and the small café is one of their bases.

At first, the idea of writing on cups was only reserved for customers, in which Jehan would write their names in beautiful cursives and end with a few couplets or tercets. However, some customers wanted to request something to write for their friends, namely Eliza, a cheerful sweet girl who stumbles into their café one day and wish to add a few things on the cup for her boyfriend.

Enter Grantaire, who sees this and thinks of an idea.

Grantaire, a man who believes in nothing but still a romantic at heart, wishes to spread his positiveness into the public world by requesting quotes for Jehan to write on the cups. Which, well, mostly consists of cheesy pick-up lines which never fail to at least put a small smile and a headshake from the poor readers' face.

The first customer who gets the cup mumbles to herself: “You look cold. Would you like to use me as your blanket?” A scoff leaves her throat, and she leaves with a small smile.

After that, the victims range from Jehan himself, to Courfeyrac, and some poor random customers - sometimes the friends. He wrote for Bahorel once: ‘You must be a broom, ‘cuz you just swept me off my feet.’ To which Bahorel laughed in an obnoxious volume, and jumped up to literally pick Grantaire up from where he was working on his art. And another time to Joly: ‘Can you help me, Doc? ‘Cuz I just broke my leg falling for you :(’ Which was fun, considering the face Joly made.

The point is, many people had to read his lines, except one. It has, and will never, been Enjolras, Grantaire has made sure of that.

Courfeyrac, however, will not have any of that. So he takes it upon himself to deliberately pick a certain cup for the leader of their little group.

"Do you have a sunburn, or... are you always this," Enjolras reads, "hot?"

Courfeyrac just grins and says nothing, while Jehan laughs and shakes his head.

"An admirer requested it," he replies, “Just for you!”

A small smile plays on Enjolras' face though, so Courfeyrac counts it as a win.

———

Grantaire, however, freaks out.

"Why would you give him that, you traitor!" He whines one day, a cup of hot latté held between his hands, and his face buried into the cold table top. Jehan laughs softly and pats him on the back, while Courfeyrac, too, is laughing. Hard. Apparently Grantaire sulking and embarrassment is kind of funny to him.

"It's alright, R," Jehan tells him, patting him a few times on his head, "Enjolras seems to like it. Plus, he doesn't know who wrote or requested that anyway."

Grantaire sniffles, but he looks up at the poet and considers it. Jehan seems genuine, and Courfeyrac seems to agree.

"Can I write it this time?" Grantaire asks and receives a brilliant smile of Jehan's in return.

——

"Roses are red, my face is too," Enjolras reads, "that only happens when I'm around you?" He raises his brow after finishes. Jehan, a sweetheart that he is, remains silent and replies with only a smile.

"This is not your handwriting," the leader observes his cup of black coffee, holding the weight firmly in his hand while careful not to spill it.

"From your admirer," the poet answers.

Enjolras frowns, but shrugs and turns away. Not fast enough that Jehan misses his smile and a small shake of his head.

If only Grantaire could see.

——

For the next two weeks, Enjolras has a collection of take-out cups with pick up lines on them. Some have 2 or 3 on them since he decides to reuse some of the cups. (He also notes that when he reuses the cups, Jehan would be the one who writes the lines. So whoever it is is not in the café when he is, or they do not wish to be found.) He hates to admit it, but those lines do make his days.

He wonders who comes up with all these cheesy lines, and can't help but think about it. When it comes to, he has narrowed it down to only a few people who could possibly do this. And he thinks he is pretty sure who it is, but he needs more proof.

One day he decides to pay back the kindness and walks up to Courfeyrac. He asks the man for a marker and a cup, and makes quick scribbles of words on it, before returning it to Courfeyrac.

"For my 'secret admirer'," he instructs, earning a raise of eyebrows from the cheery man behind the counter.

Then he waits a while, sitting in the café and pretends to do some work while trying to see if Courfeyrac will slip in the cup for someone. Apparently, the man is loyal because all the day he has been sitting, the cup is not given to anyone. So Enjolras just resigns and packs his stuff. He'll find out, one way or another.

As soon as Enjolras walks out, Courfeyrac springs himself into action. The sound of the coffee machine echoes out all over the room, emitting a pleasant smell of coffee everyone loves.

A few moments later, a cup of iced latté with extra whipped-cream is placed in front of Grantaire, startling him out of his trance. He jumps and glares at Courfeyrac who simply grins at him like nothing has happened.

Grantaire puts his sketchbook and art supplies down on an empty chair beside him. His hands, which are half-covered by his green knitted sweater reach out to grasp the cold drink, all the while saying, "I thought I would never get my drink in this life."

Courfeyrac just keeps smiling, then points to him his cup. Grantaire frowns and looks down before his eyes go wide.

"Apparently you also have an admirer," the barista states happily, before making his way out and throwing a wink over his shoulder, leaving Grantaire to his shock.

He would recognise that handwriting anywhere, and that makes it even worse. Because Enjolras, of all people, wrote, in his quick but neat handwriting, "I would say God bless you, but it seems he already did."

That bastard. Grantaire has lost the ability to focus on his work after that.

——

It goes like that for another two weeks, with Grantaire writing pick-up lines for several people every day, and one reserved coffee cup or a line for Enjolras, with additional doodle of small things on all the cup: flowers, cats, dogs, or whatever it is that inspires Grantaire. Jehan seems to like his addition though, and so Grantaire has become one of the professional coffee cup artists of the café after two or three days or so.

Customers seem to appreciate it since Jehan notices they would smile wider when they receive their cups. However, their little game has to stop when the reputation of their heart-warming café has spread for some reason, and there are more customers than ever. Courfeyrac loves it, and Jehan is more than happy, but it exhausts them every day. So, Grantaire takes the matter in his own hands and volunteers to be a barista.

"And don't you pay me with cash, I just want some free coffee every day and that's that. No argument," he says, dismissing any further complaints from the couple.

Now Grantaire has full-control of everything behind the counter. He spends some times learning how to make basic coffee and how to do it quick. But Courfeyrac prefers to let him station at the cashier, and Grantaire is more than happy to oblige. He loves talking to new people, and being at the cashier gives him the opportunity to write on the cups as much as he wishes. Jehan still comes in and writes beautiful poems at times though. He loves it after all, but making coffee at all time makes it hard for him. So, unfortunately, he can only do that when the customers are not so overwhelming. That gives Grantaire no time to write for Enjolras.

Grantaire wonders if Enjolras notices or misses the small exchange of random cheesy lines. But considering Enjolras, it would be indifferent to him, Grantaire thinks with a twinge of disappointment. Still, he is happy doing this - working and meeting people.

A month and a half after the first time Grantaire asked to write, or a few weeks after getting behind the counter, however, Courfeyrac hands him a latte cup with another line written on it, catching him by surprise.

"Apollo sent for you," he states. And on it, written in Enjolras' usual handwriting: 'No wonder the sky is grey today, all its blue is in your eyes.'

And that just leaves him with a racing heart and a face that can be used as a stove to fry some eggs. And the temperature of the countertop is just so perfect to cool his fave temperature down because damn this is so unexpected. It's been too long since their last exchange and Enjolras has to attack him with this-

He is so caught up trying to calm his racing heart and burning face down that he doesn't question why Enjolras knows his admirer's eyes are blue - or to see a smile of a certain someone just through the window outside the shop.

After a while, Grantaire moves to work at the coffee machine since he has mastered it. Jehan and Courfeyrac are more than delighted to know that he can also make latte art! It is amazing, and everyone loves it.

Grantaire practically works at their little café full-time by now, and Courfeyrac would not let him work for free any longer, so he guesses he's an official employee of this café. It's not that bad after all.

(He tried to refuse for a while but it didn't work anymore. Jehan can be terrifying when he chooses to.)

Even then, Grantaire still tries his best to write some messages on the cups, but since the new shop policy which tries to reduce even more plastic, he has to adapt. Hence, he chooses to write on the napkin or the receipt instead. Jehan seems to adore this idea also.

Enjolras comes to the counter one day, tapping absent-mindedly on the countertop. Grantaire, who takes on cashier duty, raises his eyebrow, holding up Enjolras' stainless tumbler.

"Human to the God of sun, Apollo?" Grantaire calls and smiles with delight when Enjolras snaps his head to frown at him. "Iced coffee like usual?"

Enjolras blinks at him then slowly nods his head. The artist smiles back, before turning away to the coffee machines behind him. Jehan and Courfeyrac are on a break since there are only a few customers and Grantaire declares they deserve a break. So it's a one-man job that Grantaire is more than happy to do.

The machine whirs into action, filling the cosy shop with a constant sound. The smell of coffee slowly swirls all over the shop once again. Grantaire smiles, watching as the liquid pours down and into Enjolras' tumbler.

"Well, there we go, Enj. We don't have straws to preserve the environment - you know the drill. And here's no poem from Prouvaire because he's not here. And since you've paid, you're free to go!" He rambles on with a big smile, handing Enjolras his stainless bottle. He frowns, however. When Enjolras takes it but doesn't move away, "Is there anything I can help you?"

Enjolras bites his lips, looking down at the countertop where he is still drumming his fingers. And - is that blush on the leader's face?

"Since you don't use as much cups anymore," Enjolras begins, looks up to meet Grantaire's eyes. "Would you now say those cheesy pick-up lines to me in person now?"

[purplellamanator]

Drabble Request 🥳

72. "Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now."

This ask was sent in by @unicorn-rainbow321 🤗I'm so glad you liked the other one enough to send in another ask so here it is 😘 Hope you enjoy this one as well 🥳 I have two more requests after this one, so I’m gonna have to put a hold on the requests after these two 👍 Just so I can finish the next chapter of Interview Mania. 🤗 it’s done I just need to edit it!

Saying he was naive for believing everything could just go back to the way things were before, was an understatement. To actually think after all him, his family, and his friends had gone through with the takedown of the Black Organization- after all the lies he told, that life could just bounce back was honestly stupid.

With the takedown of the Syndicate and the finding of a cure, he was exposed. The great secret of Edogawa Conan was revealed and how he always knew there would be, there were consequences.

Shinichi had known since the beginning that Ran would want to kill him. He knew what he had done was a betrayal against her trust. Especially when they had been dating for three months of it.

When it finally came out, the half a year of school work he missed meant nothing to him in comparison to his . . . girlfriend?

He said it questioningly because at the moment, he honestly didn't know if that was the correct endearment to use with her. Since leaving the Mouri Detective Agency to live in his own house and between all the court cases and hearings- they hadn't been able to talk. Shinichi had no idea where they stood in their . . relationship?

Ran was avoiding him. He knew that. And for the first few days, he let that slide. He figured she'd need the time anyway and him bombarding her with apologies and pleas would only aggravate the situation further.

But after all the hearings and almost two weeks in of being the Great Detective of the East again, Ran had yet to even acknowledge him. Even Sonoko would glance between them nervously when instead of going to talk to each other, they would both just sit silently in their seats.

Admittedly, during all the initial madness, he had to miss some more school. He was a key player in taking the BO down and solidifying why they should all be behind bars for as long as they lived. But during all of that, he still checked his phone. He still looked at her contact in his cell phone debating on if he should call her.

He never did. And each message he ever composed, he'd delete it or save it as a draft before finally deleting that too. It wasn’t like he was gone again. He was here. He was here with her. If she wanted to reach out him, she could and she would’ve done so already.

The one thing that killed him more than anything though, was the constant frown she walked around with. Her eyes seemed dull and her lips in a firm line. She never looked happy anymore and he wished he knew how she was really taking all of this.

He had expected for things to either go back to the way they were before or for her to come out with fists flying. Since neither happened, Shinichi was confused. He hadn't expected no reaction. He had at least expected her to demand answers and ask a billion questions. Ran however was acting like she couldn't care less. Well- more like she was acting like he never came back.

Finally deciding that he had given her more than enough space, he texted her. It was a weekend so there was no school so no real excuse to see his girlfriend except for the fact that he wanted to. And she was his girlfriend as far as he was concerned. She'd be his girlfriend until she told him otherwise because Shinichi didn't care what her or anybody thought. A cold shoulder was not going to be the way she dumped him. He wouldn't allow it.

He knew he had always said he'd let her go if that's what she wanted. If that was for the best. But he had gone through so much. He had missed so many chances and he would allow himself to be selfish just this once. He loved her. If she would just speak to him he'd make sure she knew that. He'd admit anything to her, no matter how much it embarrassed him.

So taking a chance, he sent her a mail.

'Hey, we haven't really had a chance to talk about everything. Can I see you?'

He didn't want to sound too desperate even though he really was. But there was no way he was going to hide the fact he wanted to see her. He had already done that before the whole Conan incident. He had already played pretend with his feelings. He wasn't going to pretend with her anymore.

Her response was almost instantaneous and he'd like to think if it was because she had been staring at her phone as well.

'Can I come over now?'

Swallowing hard, Shinichi sent her an affirmative before he felt something odd enter his gut.

He was actually nervous. He was nervous to see Ran and it honestly had nothing to do with the argument they would no doubt have.

As Conan, he had forgotten a lot of things about being in his own body. One of them being how beautiful Ran was up close. He was used to being only three feet tall. He had forgotten the hasty thump of his heart and pulse when she got too close to him. Shinichi couldn't remember feeling that way before the BO case though he knew he had liked her long before that.

Just from the sound of a knock on his door had his chest racing. He almost wanted to calm down before greeting her but there was no way he'd risk her leaving.

Opening the door wide, he had to take a breath before opening his mouth for fear it'd come out sounding small and nervous- like he was feeling.

Figuring it would probably be best to not say anything yet, he stood back gesturing for her to come inside.

As they sat in his living room, he hated the tension in the air. It was just strained and awkward and he had no idea where to even begin. Should he just start apologizing? Should he beg for forgiveness? Figuring that probably wouldn't be the smartest route, he asked, "How've you been?"

It was a dumb question or rather he worded it incorrectly. The way he said it almost sounded as if he hadn't seen her for a long time. And though it felt that way, he had seen her everyday at school. Which was significantly less than when he was Conan and even before the whole Conan thing happened, but still in a sense, misleading.

"Dad's okay," she said simply. "I think mom's moving back in next week."

And then it was quiet again. She went back to sitting quietly while looking at her hands in her lap blankly.

He didn't have to use any detective skills to realize she hadn't mentioned herself in all of that.

"And you?" He prodded further.

"What about me?"

She couldn't be serious? She had been giving him this cold shoulder since he returned. She knew exactly what.

"I just. . . I feel like you're not even happy to see me. Like maybe it would've been better if I hadn't come back." It pained him to say it but that was literally how it felt.

"You lived in my house pretending to be a seven year old child for almost a whole year and didn't tell me till just two weeks ago," she said in the flattest tone. "I'm sorry if I'm a little upset that my boyfriend of three months already bathed with me without my consent."

Shinichi almost wanted to point out that he did indeed have her consent but he knew that was wrong. He didn't have her consent. Conan did.

Instead, doing the proper thing; he bowed his head in shame and apologized. But she had acknowledged him as her boyfriend and he decided to take that as a good sign.

"You're right. You have every right to be mad. I should've argued more about it. I should've refused. You were already finding me suspicious. I thought that if I refused then you would surely know something was up. And I know this probably means nothing to you but I swear, Ran, I never looked," he shook his head and he meant every word. There had only been one time he saw the entire front of her and it had been when she got scared and dropped her towel during the Red Woman case.

Even then, she had every right to be mad. He just didn't like how upset she looked or how depressed she was looking. And when she said nothing in response, he swallowed nervously.

He hated what he was about to suggest.

"If you want to break things off, I won't hold that against you. I just. . . I don't want to see you hurting over this anymore. If that means getting rid of me, that's fine," he said slowly like he had to pry the words out. It hurt because he knew there was a possibility she'd be taking his advice.

"Just smile. I really need to see you smile right now."

That surprised her and glancing up at him, she blinked confusedly. At the unspoken question he raised a brow.

"You've been frowning since I came back. It's worrying me," he admitted.

For the first time in two weeks, her features softened. It was clear she hadn't realized how upset she looked. Or at least she hadn’t realized she was making it that obvious. But then her face suddenly went red before she was avoiding his gaze all together.

"It's been quiet at home . . . since you left," she said while shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

Shinichi's mouth almost fell open. Was she saying she was lonely without him and that's why she was upset?

"Why didn't you call me?" He said almost disbelievingly.

“Because I was angry with you,” she admitted. “Or at least I wanted to be,” she almost whispered but he had heard her. He had picked up on the ‘was’ and his brows raised.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Shinichi,” she sighed. “I’m honestly much more relieved than mad. I just knew with the hearing you had a lot to focus on. I mean I waited a whole year almost. I can wait two more weeks,” she said gently as she looked at him with a soft smile.

His heart skipped a beat as he picked up her meaning. He honestly thought she was ridiculous for thinking that. That he needed space from her so he could deal with these court cases. She was right. He had been gone for a good portion of a year. He had enough space but her words rang loudly within his chest.

She was still willing to wait for me?

Not really thinking about if he had her permission or not, he leaned forward at the same time of caressing her cheek and kissed her.

[howveryheather]

good time (the 2010s + me)

10 years of Heather... YESSSSSSS.

I mulled over various drafts of what you’re going to read today.  

There was a draft where I summed up everything, literally everything, that happened to me over the last 10 years. The more I read that draft, the more it felt increasingly like a diary entry that did not warrant publishing of any kind. 

I had a draft where I was only going to recap the good things that happened to me. That read like I had the world’s worst blinders on. 

I weebled, I wobbled, I tried to organize my thoughts using bullet points. None of it worked and all of it sounded like noise, even though I was technically going in order of the last 10 years. So, I’m just going to keep it simple and focus on the basics.

I went on two pivotal journeys in the last 10 years. The first is the start of my writing career and the second was repaying my student loans. Note that the latter half of that sentence is written in past tense. In 2019, after nine years in debt, I paid off all my loans in full! 

I want to talk about the loan journey first because it had an expiration date, even though I did used to think I was gonna die with those loans. Rather than sound like a broken record rehashing the story of how I paid everything off again, I want to share two aspects of paying off student debt that nobody talks about online. 

The first one is that once it happens, after your debt is paid in full, you’re not rich. You have a little more money every month, but you can’t go out and change your lifestyle radically. If anything, you have to remain in place a little bit longer and remain on a budget. There’s certainly irony in debt repayment. The debt is gone, but you are not exactly free yet. You have to recoup the losses. 

The other aspect of student loans is how quickly you forget about it once it’s paid off. And I mean all of it — the emotions and experience associated with loan statements and making monthly payments. I spent years lying in bed unable to sleep at night stressed out about my loans. I never think about it now. 

Paying off my debt alone was really difficult, but deep down I think I always knew that this was going to be my journey. My debt was not going to disappear, no matter how much I wished for a genie’s lamp or hoped a dead relative would throw me some bones in a will or I could magically find a spouse to marry who would assume the payments for me. I made a lot of lifestyle sacrifices to get out of debt. I prepared a few years in advance because I knew that what was ahead was going to be miserable. I remained disciplined, I treated my life with a Spartan mentality, and I crawled my way out under the 10-year deadline to freedom. Sometimes that’s what freedom looks like. It’s not a climb or a sprint to a finish line. It’s a crawl.

Onward to writing!

I was still in college at the start of 2010. Back then, I was an extremely green writer with few clips under my belt outside of an internship at the Ventura County Star and a column in The Echo (CLU’s newspaper). As a post graduate, every writing experience I have had has been a combination of good luck, timing, location, and the willingness to push myself and work hard.

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to write in the entertainment space. I always loved reading the pop culture section of the USA Today and soaked up my subscriptions to Entertainment Weekly and Premiere Magazine like a sponge. I was determined to break into entertainment however I could, and I got in on the ground floor of BettyConfidential and HelloGiggles as a contributing writer in 2011.

The early 2010s was a short-lived timeline before most of the major media moguls began buying these sites out. I remember this time as one — and everyone who started during this time will say the exact same thing, trust me — where everyone really was each other’s friend in the media space. Content felt fresh. It was new. It was also really kind. There was a lot of room to share your story and experience and receive incredible, positive feedback from readers. 

BettyConfidential... What a wonderful group! Was there anything better than waking up at 5 AM the morning after the Golden Globes to email over my best-dressed picks? (Sometimes emailed over the night before, I must admit.) I wrote my heart out in that LA Correspondent gig, covering fashion and celebrity news. It gave me so many opportunities to lead the kind of life most people who move to California never get the chance to have. I had the good fortune to go to red carpet events and awards ceremonies and gifting suites and sit in on movie sets and chat with celebrities (often in more candid spaces than is the norm) that I would never have had otherwise. Betty gave me a much-needed glimpse behind the camera of celebrity and the etiquette for how to be a reporter in this space. My experience at HelloGiggles differed from Betty in that it was much more social media driven. That was definitely the site where you earned your following and found your people in the Twitter space. 

Collectively between Betty and HG, my favorite memories were...

1) The first time I went to New York City to cover Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week. I went to as many shows as I possibly could in Lincoln Center, took photos with my iPhone, stayed up writing and writing with my photos at the hotel afterwards, and did it all over again the next day for 3-4 days. I also packed very poorly for February 2012 weather. A trench coat and flats in 20 degree weather with snow... but I still looked good!

2) I went to an event celebrating L’Oreal’s 40th anniversary of their “Because I’m Worth It” tagline (an early foreshadowing of my future in writing in advertising). I wrote a nice article about the event, shared the story, and went about my merry way into the rest of my workload. A few weeks later, I received a gift in the mail from their team: a huge gift card to Saks Fifth Avenue! There has never been a Cinderella moment in my life quite like the way I spent this gift card. I went to the Saks Fifth Avenue in Beverly Hills and bought a beautiful designer day dress that I wore everywhere (and still have in my closet).

3) The first time I went to, and covered, the Pillsbury Bake-Off for HelloGiggles. (Look at all that foreshadowing!) The Pillsbury Bake-Off is such a delightful experience and not just because there’s a life-size Pillsbury Doughboy walking around either. The events are held in hotels with convention-sized rooms where one can fit 100 ovens. 100 finalists all bake at the same time and compete for a chance to win a million dollars with their recipe. Bake it like you mean it! I even had dinner one table away from Martha Stewart at the Orlando Bake-Off.

I tried not to decline any opportunities. I made everything work, as much as I could. As far as regrets go, the only event I turned down was an opportunity to go backstage and cover the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. The logistics and timing were really off. There was absolutely no way I could have flown to New York in time for it... but I will always wonder what if!

In a post-Betty and HG world, which is where I was in 2014 when both gigs wrapped, I began pivoting toward a new vertical: advertising. My discussions with Advertising Week began in late 2014 and I started writing for the website in 2015. Initially, this was a situation where I filled in the gaps with whatever content I was asked to write. A lot of it had pop culture tie-ins with Mad Men. (Shout out to my brain for already being a fan of the series and intricately understanding the ins and outs of its characters that tied in with advertising’s heyday!) 

The first major series of articles I worked on were sponsored by Adobe, so there was an increased expectation to go above and beyond in the manner I wrote, the amount of research conducted in each article, and understanding the audience. I was ready to meet the challenge and was met with high praise for this hard work. During this time, I also briefly worked in transcription for Flaunt Magazine. I transcribed interviews for one of their writers, which made me feel as though I came a little full circle yet again to entertainment.

In March 2015, I received the opportunity to go to Chicago to the Museum of Broadcast Communications. It was for an event called “A Salute to Advertising’s Greatest Icons” which honored 10 of the greatest brand mascots in advertising. My favorite character, the Pillsbury Doughboy, was one of the honorees. Even more exciting, the creator of the Doughboy Rudy Perz would be in attendance. I immediately asked AW if I could cover the event and they agreed. However, a great tragedy occurred days before the event. Rudy passed away. I was completely crushed. As a lifelong Doughboy fan, I realized I would never get the chance to tell him how much of an impact that character had in my life.

In the 24 hours I spent in Chicago, I got to tour the museum space, meet and spend time in the studio of JoBe Cerny (the voice behind the Doughboy’s giggle!), and attend the event and its dinner. Each menu course was inspired by the 10 brand mascots. It was so much fun! I promptly wrote up the article and gave it to my bosses. 

This article sparked the beginning of how I have carved a name out for myself in advertising. Brand mascots. We started discussing how to create content about characters, which I jumped at the chance to write. Before long, I had written so many character-based articles that the content spilled over the website. It required its own platform, PopIcon, which officially launched in 2016.

The greatest joy of my writing career so far has undoubtedly been PopIcon. There is so much to cover that I have gone through stages in writing. The initial stages of introducing the character to the world, the stage of updating everyone on the character’s current events (these critters are more active than you think!), and the historical narrative behind the mascot. There is only so much information a PR person can provide you before you can’t work with a one-sheet condensed timeline anymore. You have to get out there and behave like a journalist, finding creatives to talk to and share their stories. My favorite thing is when someone tells me that they have nothing to say. Then, they launch into a narrative of what life behind the scenes was like animating Lefty from Hamburger Helper or recruiting a voiceover actor for an ad campaign. That’s a lot to say! There is no absolutely story that is too small. Every bit of it is history and it has a place to be shared.

I struggle to pick my favorite PopIcon piece. At any given point, every article I have written has been my favorite. They are all jewels in a crown to me, which is a unique way to view your writing. Really, it’s how I hope every writer views their body of work as it grows and progresses.

However, if you must read anything... try these pieces on for size!

Leo Burnett’s Oral History, As Told By 8 Former Creatives (Part One & Two)

Putting The “Kool” Back In Kool-Aid

How Seth Werner Turned A Cluster Of Grapes Into The California Raisins

Monsters! A Brief History Of The Monster Cereals Icons

Ken Stewart, Creator Of The Coca-Cola Polar Bears, Reflects On Their 25th Anniversary

AW has been responsible for sending me back to New York City. In 2017, I went to New York to attend my first #AWNewYork event. My articles ran in their print publication, I hosted a panel, and I appeared on NASDAQ’s Closing Bell ceremonies live on CNBC and HLN. In 2018, I did the same rounds plus an Icons Gala which I worked on at the same time I was paying off my student loans. The Icons Gala was a massive success and I am so proud of it because it was really tough work. And in 2019, I came back for another #AWNewYork event and celebrated with all my mascot buddies once again. 

Outside of PopIcon, I have my hand stuck in a series of freelance honey pots. I always like to keep the wheel rotating, as a means of avoiding stagnation and growing my work. It never ceases to amaze me where the wheel naturally rotates next. I wrote for Brit + Co when I lived in Orange County in 2016. I had a few pieces run on The Drum. I wrote for Ed2010 for two years, which felt like a return to my roots because Ed was the reason I got in with BettyConfidential. I still write with Business Insider, Coin, and Fairygodboss, all outlets I’ve been with for a few years now (minus Coin which started in 2019). Weirdly enough, I was fact checked in an obituary this year in The New York Times.

“Dabble in something new” was my fortune I received from a fortune cookie in the spring of 2019. Good timing. What could I do next that felt new? Where could I start to grow?

I have had my eye on weddings for awhile now, in more ways than one. You can’t help but notice when everyone you know is getting married. You really can’t help it when you’ve been a bridesmaid three times. When I think of the last frontiers of verticals where pure joy exists, it all goes back to basic life rituals. Marriage is one seeped in love, history, and etiquette. I started writing with the aptly-named wedding app Joy a few months ago. Finally, I was able to break into modern wedding editorial.

That has been the last ten years of my writing career, in a nutshell. Upon writing this out, I realized just how lucky and fortunate I am that everything looks so neatly tied together. The gaps have been few and far in between. Regardless of what was going on in my personal life or when things were difficult, doors kept opening for me. And I did everything I could to walk in when it happened.

Doesn’t it look like the land of Oz over here sometimes? It has been 10 years. If you juggled this much writing on top of a full-time job, nonstop for a decade while aging from a twentysomething into your thirties, you would probably run into some issues keeping your self-sustained sausage factory running. It’s not a realistic story if the heroine isn’t facing growing pains.

I am not a perfect writer. I’m never going to act like the Heather cup of tea is for everyone to drink up because it’s not. 

I have had countless nights where I have been up late writing, researching, or editing drafts. My interviews with creatives sometimes last for a few hours. I have procrastinated my workload until the last possible minute, leaving me frantically pinned against a wall pushing all the puzzle pieces around until they fit in the eleventh, in the twelfth, hour. 

I’ve had my brain switch completely off into a “duhhhhhhhh” setting. In this setting, I shut myself in and watch reruns of TV shows I have already seen before. I have to mentally peace out from the world. This is because operating at eleven every single day takes a lot out of you. 

I have been rejected by a few outlets. Totally happens. I have also been told I am overqualified on more than one occasion. 

In 2019, I finally seized the opportunity to buy my domain, which was not previously available, and create a space for my work. 

I’ve learned a lot about one other person in the last decade: myself.

I know exactly who I am. I’ve hit reset on my life multiple times over the last 10 years, switching jobs, cities, and freelance work. I can reinvent some of me, but I can never leave myself behind. Nor would I ever want to do that. I love myself. She is still a work in progress, but it is progress I will do anything for, even if it means crawling alone for years on end. I do it for her.

Everything is up to timing. In time, everything will be as it is supposed to. That time will be the right time. 

If you are ever unsure of what to do next, look to the past for guidance. Everything I loved as a child is coming full circle into my life as an adult. 

I think the greatest thing I can do, now and in the next decade, is to continually work at making the younger version of me happy with her adult self. If the 10-year-old version of you could see you now, what would she think? Would she be proud of the person you grew up to become? Certainly I think the younger version of me is probably a little upset I don’t read as many books as I did in my Scholastic book club days (I’m working on it!). But, I do think she would be pleased with the woman I am in 2019. The things I have already accomplished and feathers in my hat. My personality and work ethic. The dreams ahead of me and the goals I still have left to achieve. 

While I have no idea where I will go in the next 10 years, I am excited to see everything that comes my way in 2020 and beyond. I will keep writing. I will keep working. And I will continue to keep not telling anyone what I’m doing until it happens. I have found life is a lot more fun when you whip out a good, unconventional “surprise!” on everyone that nobody saw coming.

Keep your pen at the ready. It’s gonna be a good time.

[mittensmorgul]

not a strictly spn question, but, as someone who wants to start writing, how the ever-loving fuck do you pump out so many fics so fast?? i’ve been working on outlining the same three stories for like a year (not really) ((but kinda))

Hi there, and congrats on that much outlining! I… don’t outline that much, ever, for anything. But I also don’t think I crank out fics all that fast. It might seem that way sometimes, but the Pinefest fic I posted in February has actually been drafted (and through several rounds of editing) since last August. I only just posted it for Pinefest. So it might seem there was only a month and a half between me writing that and the thing I posted last night, I’ve actually been working on THAT since January… three and a half months for 30k isn’t very fast. :P

I’m putting this under a cut because it’s kinda long, and possibly boring or irrelevant in the big scheme of things…

(I once wrote a 105k word original novel in 15 days, and a friend of mine wrote a 130k novel in just over three days on a deadline, but heck that is atypically fast… and nearly killed them… no really they developed shingles from the stress of it, do not recommend)

So I might be slightly biased here, but at some point you gotta stop outlining and start writing. That’s the secret. You can’t crank out stories unless you actually start writing them.

That said, when I say I don’t outline, I mean I have notes for fic that range from this, for my 8k short:

*soulmate situation described here: http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/173681098950/i-saw-a-writing-prompt-that-went-like-this-you Officially written and posted on 11/14/18 as Lost Time.

that’s just a link to a post that inspired the thing, to this, for a 65k fic: 

*NAILED IT! How could I fanfic my way through this baking show? or maybe I should just… write fanfic of this… (notes document: Cakepocalypse notes) (in process as of 4/1/18 as a potential dcbb as Cakepocalypse) (posted 6/23/18)https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017792

(sorry, I removed the link to my notes doc, but what I am willing to show of that:

wherein a lot of those 15 pages consists of images of the cakes in each challenge for my own personal reference while writing.)

Basically the ONLY two fics I’ve ever written an outline for structurally required it:

Cakepocalypse and Around the World in 24 Days, both fics based off “reality show” formats– Cakepocalypse was basically Nailed It!, and AtWi24D is the Amazing Race (and over 101k, based on about 5k worth of very detailed notes I’d be happy to show you if you come off anon). There was no way I could keep track of that many “contestants” and all their challenges, travel, baking, guests, etc. without keeping these sorts of detailed notes.

My previous pinefest fic, Winchester 275, was a 57k AU based on a two sentence thing that had been sitting on my to be written list for YEARS:

*(writing for pinefest, working title of Winchester 275 as of 8/29/17, draft finished 11/29/17, posted 3/6/18 http://archiveofourown.org/works/13788693) astronomy night at a dude ranch in arizona, Cas brings the telescope, dean only sees the stars in his eyes oh god did i actually write that down? yes. yes i did.

And my first DCBB, Revenge of the Subtext, was 80k based on a one sentence prompt: http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/130269813965/meangreenlimabean-mittensmorgul.

So if your fic doesn’t NEED you to make such detailed notes, just start writing already. :D

When I first started writing (loooong before I ever started writing fic), some of my encouraging friends told me some interesting stories. We got to talking about how annoying it was that so many people respond to someone saying they write with, “Oh, I’ve been thinking about writing a novel for years,” or something else along those lines. My friend told me she knew a guy who had been outlining his novel for more than a decade, but never seemed to be able to get it quite right so that he felt he could start writing. With that sort of attitude, he probably never will, you know?

You will never have a “perfect” outline. Just like you’ll never have a “perfect first draft.” You have to have a draft to be able to edit it, you know? Can’t edit a blank page, and an outline can only take you so far before it becomes so fleshed out that it ceases to be an outline and looks more like a first draft.

So set a writing goal for yourself. Shoot for easy to start with, and then you can tweak the goal as you fall into the habit. Say, 200 words a day. Or 1000 words a week (because in all honesty you might miss a day here and there, and you shouldn’t get down on yourself for that, either). I personally shoot for 1000 words on days when I write, but I’ve been doing this for more than a decade now. I don’t always make it, but sometimes I double that, or quintuple it, or more. And I have scheduled days off (Supernatural nights when new episodes air, and usually the day after, and Monday night when I play pub trivia and it’s Mr. Mittens’ night off work). But outside of those days, barring extreme exhaustion or illness, I try to write at least 1000 words a night.

Being that I’m not an outliner, I feel I need to say that I always know the whole story before I start writing. It’s all up inside my head, running like a film that I “transcribe” into a fic. So even if I don’t have a written, bullet-pointed list of plot points and emotional beats, I do have the “finished product” looping through my head continuously until I transcribe it all. I know that’s not actually useful writing advice for most people, and I have no idea if this is how anyone else approaches writing, but it’s how it works for me. Minor details may only show up while I’m writing, but the whole story is already there.

This is why I never, ever post incomplete, wip fic. I am a compulsive editor, mostly because I don’t create detailed outlines before I start, and for the sake of continuity, editing is my friend. Can’t go back to insert a reference into chapter 3 that will become important by chapter 14 if you posted chapter 3 half a year ago, you know? Your readers are not gonna go back and reread your updates when you remember that Important Detail never actually made it onto the page in the exact way you needed it to way back when. :P

Now, an outliner MAY have picked that detail up and inserted it before they ever started writing, but one thing folks might not understand until they actually start writing: Actually writing the thing out, making it flesh and letting it breathe, will inherently change your two-dimensional outline. I’m not saying that your plot will derail itself, but only once you begin bringing the story to life, begin living on the page through the characters, will you begin to feel them as living beings, and can really begin to understand them and make them feel real to readers. No outline can do this, and will always fall short of feeling “good enough” for this reason.

(sorry, a lot of how I feel about writing sounds slightly unhinged when I try to talk about it, so please remember that the first original novel I wrote was based on a recurring nightmare I had after a psychotic break, which I literally wrote as therapy to banish the Bad Thoughts. Yes, it worked. Yes, that’s why I still write this way more than a decade later.)

But this is where you’ll begin to fill in the “gaps” inherent in any outline. Personality quirks, inside jokes between characters, feeling their feelings and translating that to the page. But also picking up all the dangling threads like repeating themes and emotional triggers.

I think I’ve gone way far off the path here…

Basically, pick one of your outlines. Decide you’re gonna start writing it. Then start writing it. It’s that simple, and that seemingly impossible. Write one sentence. Then write another. Then write lots more.

Good luck! I know it’s terrifying. I’m terrified every time I pick a new fic idea to write and stare at that blank document. But I stare it down, give a hearty pterodactyl screech, and dive bomb the keyboard. It’s really the only way to do it.

It’s worked pretty well for me so far. :P

[areadersjoy]

Girlfriend

Summary: *requested* Tom Holland Imagine where he is doing a talk show and they pull up a photo of y/n and Tom cuddling up on their hotel balacony early in the morning and he admits they are dating and starts gushing about how much of an amazing girlfriend she is and a great mom to Tess

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: C U T E

Note: it’s been a minute, huh? this was a request we’ve had in our drafts since before we went inactive on you guys, which i apologize for. life can be a jerk sometimes. anyway--here’s a little something i started last night! i had so much fun writing, and i hope you all have just as much fun reading! x - K

Posted: 08/30/2018

“So, Tom,” Ellen Degeneres says, leaning forward in attempts to make it seem that she was way more interested than she was just seconds prior.

“So, Ellen,” Tom replies in his best imitation, folding his hands in his lap and having a stare-down with the host for no more than ten seconds, until the audience broke into a fit of laughter, making the two who were having the stare down laugh, themselves.

“So, Tom, I can call you Tom, right?”

“Yes, it’s my name, I’d prefer it,” he chirps back in the most polite matter, which somehow made the audience laugh.

“Alright, TOM... you’re here today to talk about the newest Avengers Movie, Avengers: Infinity Wa—!” Before she could finish, the crowd erupted into screams of joy and excitement. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Tom maintained the smile over his face.

“I am, yes. And I’m here all by myself—I can hardly believe they’re letting me do one of these by myself again,” the young boy goes on, gaining a few laughs from the audience. 

“So you’re saying you don’t have anything to tell us today?”

“No, no!” Tom let’s out abruptly, sitting up. “And even if I did, I couldn’t.”

“Really?” Ellen asks, a devious grin going across her lips.

“Yes, really,” Tom replies, once again getting into a stare down with Ellen. However this time Tom found his heart beginning to race.

“So,” Ellen finally breaks eye contact as she looks to one of her producers, now motioning to the screen behind the both of them.

“You have nothing to say about this picture you posted?” 

Oh no. Tom knew exactly what the picture was before looking. Slowly taking a glance, his eyes widened a bit at the sight of (Y/N) and Tom almost quite literally spooning on a chair meant for one person. Tom had prayed that this picture would never see the light of day, though it was his own fault it was now being seen. Instead of pressing the save button a week or two on Instagram... he had hit post, instead, giving life to more rumors that had been flying around for the past few months.

Tom was known for spoiling things. However, when it came to you, he liked to have it just between the both of you. While rumors were swarming about whether he was with Zendaya, (Y/N), or sometimes even Harrison... all roads lead back to you. You two had been dating since before the first Spider-Man movie came out, and were notoriously private about what was going on between you guys. Nothing other than a oh, they’re one of my greatest friends was shared.

So for Ellen to bring this up was a literal punch in the gut, his absolute nightmare had become a reality. He brought his hand up to cover his face, feeling his heart now stop, if that was even possible. While having his own internal mini-meltdown, Tom hadn’t even noticed all the oohs, ahhs and whistles coming from the audience.

Soon enough, the male uncovers his face, and put on his best smile, hoping that he was ready to answer what was to come.

“You know what, based off of that reaction, you totally have nothing to say about the picture,” Ellen retorts, a knowing look over her face, that sent the audience into another fit of laughter.

“Well,” he begins, feeling his face heat up—watching Ellen’s grin grow. “That’s a photo of my friend (Y/N) and I from a few weeks ago,” he explained rather calmly, leaving the host of the show unsatisfied.

“Okay, so you’re telling me that you and the girl in this picture are just friends?” She asks, looking back to the picture, then back at Tom, and then back to the picture.

“Because I don’t believe you.”

As the audience laughs, Tom does as well—finding himself a bit overwhelmed at this point. Honestly, as much as he enjoyed keeping things private, he would love to tell everyone about you guys. He wanted to scream out to the world about the love he had for you. But... if something’s not broken, why fix it?

“Yeah, I don’t believe me either,” the male lets out softly, a hand wiping over his forehead, going on to let out another laugh, once again feeling his heart begin to race.

“Okay... so if you aren’t friends, then what are you? I mean, you have to at least be friends to be that close to someone in a picture. I wouldn’t want to be that close to someone I didn’t like,” Ellen rambles on, which somehow made Tom feel better.

Letting out a huff of air, he smiles her way, and shakes his head. “(Y/N) is... phenomenal, really. I’ve known her for a while now, and she’s really one of my greatest friends,” he pauses, a wave of relief going throughout him, as he was truly just genuinely happy to be talking about you. “I’m very lucky to have her in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

With that, Tom wipes his hands along the pants he wore, and averts his eyes to the ground. The once giggly and rambunctious audience was now filled with so much love, and some resentment for the girl that made Tom feel so happy.

“So she’s your girlfriend?” Ellen chirps, waiting for Tom to look back her way.

“I didn’t say that,” he says back, desperately fighting back a smile that wanted to shine through.

“Alright, yeah. She’s your girlfriend.”

~

It was just nearing midnight when Tom was getting ready for bed, delighted that his day wasn’t an absolute train wreck. He had done press all day, most with someone by his side, and other sessions by himself. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

As he lay on his back for the first time since early that morning, a sigh of relief passed his lips, a smile creeping up seconds later. It was kind of fun teasing everyone about what was going on in his relationship. But most of all, it was nice to tell the world how important you were to him.

As he finally began to doze off, his phone began to ring. Tom didn’t check the caller ID, as he knew that ring tone by heart at this point—the BatMan Theme Song. He always insisted that it made no sense as his character and BatMan will probably never cross paths in the Marvel Universe, and you would always say that’s why it makes perfect sense.

“Hello?” He lets out as he answers the phone, a smile in his voice.

“You are in TROUBLE!” You shout in a playful tone, which makes your boyfriend laugh.

“Why am I in trouble?”

“You told Ellen that we’re dating, I thought we were keeping it a secret.”

“Come on darling, you know I can’t keep secrets,” he teases, knowing very well that you would be rolling your eyes at his remark.

You two spend up to a half an hour chatting, when you decide to cut things off.

“As much as I would love to talk to you all day, I have to head off to work soon, and I think you need to go to bed,” you tell him smoothly, just happy to have heard his voice to start out your day.

Right, time zones. That’s why they were talking on the phone and not in the same room. 

“Alright, I’ll talk to you tonight, love,” Tom says sweetly, though he felt part of him aching over the fact that they were so far away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have a good day and give Tessa some kisses for me.”

You laugh, which is pure music to his ears. 

“Will do, babe.” 

Click.

[salamoonder]

I’m so tired.

I used to be full of words and ideas and universes--and I still am, but now they’re trapped in my head, pushing out the things I need to function and survive and simply remember how to operate as a decent fucking human being.

I’ve spent weeks--months, honestly--going through all my old stuff and wondering how in the hell I managed to do it. Just the sheer volume of the words I produced astounds me. Right now six pages sounds like an impossible amount. In an early NaNoWriMo, my parents decided that I was spending too much time on “that dumb writing thing” and confiscated my laptop, and so I finished the last half of my novel in an old notebook in secret with one week remaining.

I flip through the pages and gape at it. I was sixteen. It’s not quality writing, but still, it exists. It’s there in solid ink, pages and pages and pages of my cramped, tiny, sloppy handwriting going from word to sentence to paragraph to chapter on and on until I wrote “The End” ceremoniously in cursive. And it’s only half of the full text.

Another year, I had fallen behind between school and work, and wrote fucking 12,000 words in under two hours. I’m sure most people who write or read fic know roughly how much that is but if you don’t, it’s the equivalent of a little over a fifth of The Great Gatsby. I don’t say this to brag but to illustrate how freaking impossible it sounds to me now.

There are documents in my google drive I haven’t opened in literal years that I know contain well over a hundred pages of original concepts. Unpolished, unedited, but there. First drafts, complete.

There are other folders containing nothing but notes; fully fleshed out universes and characters that I never used. Fanfiction ideas I forgot I had. The biggest group by far is a folder simply labeled “WIP”.

Abandoned, all of them. Even on my AO3 page, which I used to strive to keep completed as much as possible, houses several abandoned chaptered fics. And none of my original stories have ever seen the light of day outside of a few close friends. There’s even some screenplays in there. Stage plays. Poetry that I never reworked.

I have a nearly 60k fic that I’m releasing bit by bit now, slowly, editing each chapter and releasing it, waiting a week, repeating the process. It’s feeding my need to put something out into the world and the comments and kudos don’t hurt either. But the words are beginning to run out and I’m going to have to add to it soon, if it’s going to continue.

I’m going slowly insane.

I can’t sleep again. I’m on a low dose and I have a psychiatrist appointment soon, but I don’t think my meds are working. School is starting to catch up to me. Forgetting to eat is starting to catch up to me. The stress of jobhunting is starting to catch up to me.

It’s so, so much easier to put on Star Trek or New Girl or whatever and just kind of collapse in on myself rather than sit down and actually write. It used to be easy. Words used to flow out of me. Now I have to shove at them. Coax them out. Threaten them.

I hate not writing, though.

I want to finish what I started. I want to do more than that. I want to keep going. I have new ideas that need to escape. I’d like to share my OCs with the world. I’d like to perform and record some of my spoken word. If a writer is a god of their respective works, then I have been a severely neglectful one. I’d like to do better.

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips for Writing a Bestseller with Ulysses

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Ulysses, a NaNoWriMo 2017 sponsor, is a professional writing app for macOS and iOS.  Today, New York Times bestselling author Lauren Layne shares her best tips for writing books that sell:

I’m what one might call a “process-junkie”. Although I’ve been a full-time author since 2013, my background is in the corporate world, and I was on an operations team. Figuring out the best way to go about accomplishing tasks and goals was literally my day job.

And it’s a proclivity that’s carried over into my writing life. I’ve published over two-dozen books, and in my early days, half the battle was figuring out how to write those books with the most effective, stress-free system possible.

It took me a couple years and several writing programs, but I’ve finally found my Holy Grail of systems: Ulysses.

I’ve been using the writing app since 2015, and it’s the first and only program that I’ve never cheated on. In the past, I’d flit from program to program, convinced that the next one would make the writing process easier. I’ve used Ulysses for two years now, and never once wavered in my loyalty. Simply put, it works. Ulysses is built for writing quickly and writing well. Since switching to Ulysses, I’ve signed multiple book deals, hit the USA TODAY bestseller list multiple times, and even made the elusive New York Times list. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Here are my 5 top tips for writing books that sell, as well as how I utilize Ulysses to achieve them:

1. Your story comes first.

Looking to write a book that sells? It won’t matter how compelling your characters, how nuanced your setting, how exquisite your prose if you don’t have a story—a plot. Bestsellers tend to be high-concept; they’re stories that can be described in 1-2 sentences, in what’s often known as an “elevator pitch.” 

Take a look at these examples: Orphan finds out he’s a wizard and gets sent to wizarding boarding school. Teen volunteers to take sister’s place in death match on live television. A Harvard professor follows clues left in Da Vinci paintings to solve a two-thousand year old secret. Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and The Da Vinci Code. Three wildly successful books that pique reader interest right from the very first: “It’s a story about ...”

Even if you’re not a planner/outliner, it’s crucial to know what your story’s about before you write. Luckily, Ulysses makes it extremely easy to keep your plot front-and-center as you begin the writing process. Unlike traditional word processors where you have to work with one long scrolling document, Ulysses allows you to create “sheets” within your book’s project folder/group. The first thing I do before starting any book is to create a sheet that I label STORY. It’s where, in a single sentence, I sum up the core of the book’s plot. I’ll use other sheets/features for more detailed planning, but having a single sheet with a single sentence serves as a quick reminder of what the story’s about when I start to lose my way.

2. Think scenes, not chapters.

When I first started writing, I used to picture my manuscript as one big entity (the book) chopped by into random intervals (chapters). The result was a meandering, often boring, slog. My breakthrough came when I moved beyond books on writing to books on screenplay writing. That’s when it clicked. A book, just like a movie, is made up of scenes. Small, mini-stories, that are interesting in and of themselves. Often, those scenes are contained neatly within one chapter, but not always! Some scenes span multiple chapters, other chapters contain multiple scenes. Think of your book like a movie—something should happen in each scene. It doesn’t have to be an action scene, per say, but each scene must move the story forward in some way (even via dialog) in order to keep readers turning the pages.

Ulysses is perfectly designed for this “scene” approach to writing. I set up all of my books so that each scene gets a dedicated “sheet,” and the list of scenes sits along the left side of my screen as I write (or can be hidden, for distraction-free writing). If I want to access a particular scene, I need only to click on it from the list. No scrolling through hundreds of pages to find “that one part ...”

3. Leave breadcrumbs for yourself.

The hardest part about writing a book in a month (or writing a book at all!) is staying excited when we get to what’s known as “the sagging middle”—that part of the story where the fresh newness has worn off, and The End seems very far away. To combat this mid-book slump, I like to skim over all of the scenes I’ve already written, as well as create placeholder sheets/scenes for whats to come. As mentioned above, Ulysses makes it easy to organize your book by scene, but there’s another trick that makes this even better: by putting two “plus signs” on either side of a piece of text, you can create a note to yourself, that won’t show up in the final document. For example, I can also remind myself what Chapter Twelve is about by putting two plus signs around this chunk of text at the top of my Ulysses sheet for that scene:

++Jennifer shows up late for work (again) after her son’s morning asthma attack, and her boss, while sympathetic, tells Jennifer that it’s simply not working out. She’s fired. As she’s carrying her box of things to her car, the box breaks. It starts to rain as the scene ends, and Jennifer thinks she’s officially hit rock bottom.++

The above text will show up for me in Ulysses, but the plus signs tell Ulysses not to export that particular “note to self” in the final Word document. Not only does this scene summary make for easy quick reference looking back at what you’ve already written, but it can serve as motivation/ inspiration on future scenes! You can see the crux of that exciting climax scene waiting to be written, even if you’re not quite there yet.

4. Break the writing rules.

I used to think there was one “right way” to write a novel—that precise writing was good writing. I’d agonize that all of my chapters had to be roughly the same length, and at least 2,000 words. I’d think that if I did alternating POVs at the start of the book, I had to keep that going throughout the entire book. I thought that one-sentence paragraphs weren’t allowed. Or that you could never ever start a sentence with but or so, and that sentence fragments were completely off limits. I followed all the rules, published a few books with a big publisher... and sold almost no books, and made almost no money.

I figured if I wasn’t going to make much money from my books, I might as well have some fun with it! So, I started breaking rules. If a particular scene ended up at 898 words, and I loved the idea of it being its own chapter, I did that, even if the surrounding chapters were 3,000+. I once wrote a book where 80% was the heroine’s POV in first person, 20% was the male POV in third- person. I’ve written scenes made up primarily of text messages.

And you know what happened when I started breaking rules? I started hitting bestseller lists. Breaking rules and trying something different doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer—it means you’re developing your own style. This again is where Ulysses really shines. Traditional word processors force you to see your book in a very “finished” format, even in your earliest drafts. You may not realize it, but this “formal” appearance can really hamper any creative innovation. Ulysses provides freedom of structure, and because it’s a Markdown editor, you’ll be focused on what your words and stories are, rather than whether they or not they adhere to the “rules.”

5. Push through to the end.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, don’t stop until you reach the end! This seems so obvious, but it’s truly the most crucial advice I can give. A finished book is what separates authors from writers. Writers write. They put words on a page. But they also sometimes stop. Authors push through to the end so they have something to publish. Confession: my official story is that I wrote my first book in 2011, but the truth is, I tried NaNoWriMo 3 times in the early 2000s. I’d always start out November strong, excited about my new story, already envisioning the mansion I’d buy when I edged out Stephen King in book sales. All three of those times, I quit before even reaching 30,000 words. But the strange thing: it was never a sudden stop. It’s not as though I was on an inspired writing tear one day, and then would just abruptly abandon the book the next day. It was slow. Subtle. I’d tell myself that I had writer’s block, and just needed to “reevaluate” my story, and go back to fiddling with the my outline. Or tweaking my notes. I’d tell myself that I just needed a little time away from my story, and would watch TV instead. Or I’d tell myself that my problem was lack of organization. I’d spend hours (yes, hours) in my then-writing program, playing with formatting and cork boards and style editors. Slowly, I’d fall further and further behind in my word count, until finally I just... quit.

This is why Ulysses is so crucial. I know I sound like a broken record, but Ulysses is one of the few programs that gets it right. It keeps the focus on what matters: words. But with just enough organization prowess so that you don’t lose your way.

Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies. A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career. She lives with her husband in midtown Manhattan.

[clevercatchphrase]

2019 year in review

So… The 2010’s are almost over. Huh. What a decade it’s been. Hard to comprehend how much has changed in 10 years. I can barely believe that I was in high school at the beginning of this decade, and now I’m a college graduate with 2 degrees who’s been working at the same job for the last 3 years. But trying to summarize the past 10 years in a single post is a good way to give myself an existential crisis, so let’s not do that! Instead, let’s just focus on 2019 because there has been more than enough shit that’s happened to me in this year to talk about.

PART 1 OF 2: 2019 AND 2020 GOALS AND RESOLUTIONS

Huh, looking back through my archives, I apparently didn’t make a tumblr post about my goals this year. I definitely had some, though. Lemme list ‘em off real quick, and then we’ll go through them point by point.

1)      Pay off all my student loans 2)      Finish some song comics 3)      Make art for my Redbubble account 4)      Finish the first rough draft/script of a game I wanted to make 5)      Practice ASL 6)      Sew some stuffed animals 7)      Finish some fan fictions 8)      Work on Ghost Switch 9)      AMVs 10)   Do some original writing 11)   Make illustrations for my fan fictions

Okay, first off, the student loans. I was actually SO CLOSE to successfully completing this one bUT THEN MY CAR HAD TO BE A WHINEY PISS BABY AND HAVE ITS ALTERNATOR DIE ON ME WHILE I WAS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THEN A BLOW OUT THREE WEEKS LATER.

GOD, if I had to summarize this year in two words, for me it would be “Car troubles”. I swear I spent more on auto repair in the first third of this year than I ever have just freakin’ OWNING a car. All four of my tires had to be replaced, my alternator failed and my car literally just SHUT OFF while I was driving, and I was barely able to coast into a gas station. Both my front breaks and rear breaks were worn down the metal and I only learned this when my car was barely able to stop after I had to slam the petal down full force!  I went in for an oil change, and they found some problems and then I didn’t get my car back for three days! I don’t even like owning a car! I hate driving! I hate my country’s refusal to provide universal, free public transportation! I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!

Oh-kay… number 2. Finish some song comics. I didn’t finish any. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work on them. I have made tiny progress, but that’s certainly better than no progress. One of these song comics I hope to be realizes is going to be a collab with one of my friends. It’ll be a long-time coming as it’s pretty low priority for the both of us, but if anyone else out there was disappointed with KH3’s ending, we’re gonna have ya’ covered… With SONG!

3. Make some redbubble art. I actually did this one! Not in the way I expected, but I added (technically) 3 new designs to my redbubble in the middle of the year. If you like butterflies and dragons, I got some product for you~!

Number 4, finish a script for a game I want to make. I… thought about this. I thought about this a lot, but I never put pen to paper, so… oops. It almost happened! I debated making this my main writing project for NaNoWriMo this year, but ended up having more inspiration for another story. Maybe next year? (god, I hope not. I don’t want to wait a full year just to write something)

Number 5, practice ASL. I just straight up didn’t do this and I only have myself to blame. Still keepin’ up that Danish Duolingo streak, though. 4 years going strong and not a day missed yet.

Number 6, sew some stuffed animals. Again, another one I just straight up didn’t do, but I have an excuse of trying to save money while my car crashed and burned in every other sense except literal this year. Hopefully 2020 will be different. I’ll definitely be able to pay off this last loan within the first half of 2020, and then I can start saving for whatever I want to buy.

Finish some fan fictions was number 7, and I did this! Well, I only finished, 1, but it was a story I’ve been working on for over 3 years, and it came out to over 200 THOUSAND words long, which is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of myself. Now that the big story is out of the way, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of working on Ghost Switch, maybe I can squeeze in some short writing sessions more frequently. (either that, or just wait for my car to break down again and then go on a writing spree in a pepboys. The lord and the fan fic discord know that’s solely why I finished my other fic this year)

Speaking of Ghost Switch, working on it was a goal this year too, and I did that! I kept it up all year and took a vacation in November and it was wonderful. While the major plot points have been in place since before I started drawing, I still need to script each arc beyond Snowdin, but hey, by the time we get there, it’ll be 2022 so I got time. (Note, don’t do this, kids. Script your stories and comics thoroughly before publishing. The road I’m on is paved with misery and pain and it will only end in tears unless I change lanes soon)

Number 9, amvs. Do people make AMVs anymore? Idk… the last one I made was... Jesus, 5 years ago? (it was a gravity falls/fall out boy crossover, if you were curious) I’ve been wanting to do 2 more for just as long, but in order for me to do that, I’d have to spend time re-watching the shows to find the footage, and then actually edit them together, and I just don’t…. feel like it. Maybe someday, but not any day soon.

10; do some original writing. I did this! For nanowrimo! I wrote the first draft of some original fiction I’ve been planning for a year or two now and it completely sucks! But it’s on paper now and I’m happy. Will I revise and edit it? Sure, but not for a while. I want to let it sit and forget about it and look at it with new eyes months from now so I can be sure I can make it better when time comes to rewrite.

11, make illustrations for my fan fics. Now that You Monster is done, I want to go back and add pictures to it. I didn’t do any this year, but I did keep a list of scenes I wanted to draw, so I have plenty of ideas to do as warm up sketches next year~ I kinda want to stream them~

So, that was 11 goals, and I successfully fulfilled 4 of them! That’s! Not a very good ratio… QmQ So, goals for 2020. Some I’m gonna keep from this year, some I’m gonna drop and some I’m gonna add. In short I would like to,

1)      Finish paying off that last student loan 2)      Put more stuff on my redbubble 3)      Illustrate my own fan fics 4)      Sew at least one stuffed animal 5)      Make an enamel pin 6)      Read one new book a month 7)      Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic 8)      Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make 9)      Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch 10)   Boost my patreon

Most of these I think are pretty self-explanitory, but I’ll go into detail just a bit because I’m on a roll and typing my thoughts helps me feel less alone in the middle of the night when you’re super tired and you know you should probably go to sleep, but the toddler in you is throwing a tantrum and doesn’t wanna go to sleep just yet, but you can’t fight the progression of time either way.

Number 1- I should be able to reach this goal by the end of March. End of June at the absolute latest. Once that goal is met, my secret new year’s resolution will be unlocked as well!

Number 2- I want to put more art of my OCs on redbubble. These OCs are tied to the game I want to make. There’s already some art of them up there, but I want at least one piece for each character.

Number 3- Mostly for You Monster. Embrace the cardinal rule of fan fic and apply it to fan art. If you want to read about see art about certain ideas, scenarios, or what-ifs, you gotta make it yourself.

Number 4- I have 3 potential ideas to sew. One is definitely leagues easier than the other two and will probably be chosen if/when I have the time and materials.

Number 5- This year I got really, REALLY into the idea of making enamel pins. Unfortunately it’s a pretty big investment (like, $350 to make 100 pins you  might not even sell). If this happens, it’ll probably be towards the end of the year, and if I get enough interest. I’m currently torn between making an original enamel pin and one based off Undertale. We’ll just have to see where this goes.

Number 6- Back in 2018 when I paid off one of my many student loans, I rewarded myself by spending over 200 dollars in used books. All these books had a theme; they were focused on dragons because I have a problem. I have not yet read a single one of these books I have bought, and I would like to fix that. I have, like, 20 unread dragon books, and even if I only read 12 out of 20, I would consider that an amazing accomplishment and money well spent.

Number 7- I currently have about 8 different WIPs I could work on. (well, I don’t know if I can even call them wips. More like, a general idea and a title written down.) I want to build good writing habits, and if I can write just 200 words a day, hell, even 200 words a week and just one of my 8 stories done, I would consider this goal met.

Number 8- I’m torn between making my game in unity or ren’py. I know jack shit about both. Ren’py is more user friendly, but unity will allow me more customization. (Lol, can you guess what kind of game I want to make yet?)

Number  9- I really just want the full story to be done and written incase anything goes horribly terribly wrong in my life and I find myself unable to continue making ghost switch in comic form. Then at least I can finish the story by other means, you know?

Number 10- It always surprises me every month when I get that patreon email saying I got paid. Sure, I don’t even make double digits on it, but it still awes me enough to know that people out there like my work enough to throw me a tip. I can’t thank my patrons enough for supporting me and I hope to one day be in such a good place I can update my comic/song comics/writing frequently enough without need for goals or milestones. But until that magical day arrives, money is always a great incentive for anything, I suppose. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 ALRIGHT. PART 2 OF 2: SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN 2019

Cheesus crust what a year. This year started off great! Back in late January Kingdom Hearts 3 FINALLY released, and let me tell you a little story. Back in the summer of 2006 I was a 13 year old middle schooler with no way of making money other than by doing house hold chores at a rate of 25 cents a task. A few weeks ago, I had a sleep over at a friend’s house and they let me play this weird game called “Kingdom Hearts” and god, I was instantly hooked on it. That summer, I did over 800 chores, enough to earn myself 200$ and buy myself a playstation 2 (just in time for the ps3 to come out, gg me) The only games I had for the ps2 were KH1, 2, Re:CoM and Okami, and I beat them all… except Okami. Miffed that the PS3 wouldn’t allow for backwards compatibility, little 13-year-old me made a promise. I looked myself in the mirror and said “I will not buy the next playstation console until KH3 comes out, AND BOY that was probably a good choice for me to make with my level of gaming. I’m even less of a casual gamer than the average casual gamer, but I have been waiting 13 years for this piece of closure, and I even told my friends and family that “the day Kingdom Hearts 3 comes out is the day I will buy a playstation 4”. My dad apparently thought this was the funniest shit, because he literally took the day off from work that Friday to drive me on base to get the game and console (he thought it would be less crowded than a regular walmart, I suppose). I paid $400 on a ps4 pro while he bought me the game. Again, I have an impecible sense of timing seeing as the PS5 is now right on the horrizion, but just like before, I’m not buying a new console until the next KH game is released. See you in 2045, sony~. While I was at the gamestop on base, I also picked up Okami HD and The Last Guardian. For all of February and even early March, I took my time playing through KH3. And…! It was the best disappointment I’ve ever played. After a month away from gaming, I started The Last Guardian and finished it in a couple weeks. I love trico and would die for him, but trying to get 100% completion on that game is udder insanity. Okami, HD, however… again after a month break after finishing TLG, I started replaying Okami. I think I had only managed to get about halfway through the game before I just… stopped playing it on my ps2 version. I am currently SO CLOSE to getting a 100% on the ps4 version. In fact, I’ve beaten the game. I only (techinically) need 2 more trophies to be done; 1st, escape the water dragon without being eaten, 2nd, I need to beat that dumb stupid race with Kai, in order to get the last bead on my rosary, as well as the top dog trophy. I hate her so much. I hate this race so much. It’s awful and bad.

Flash forward to December! Earlier this month I was at Barnes and Noble, buying myself a planner for 2020. I exit the store and notice that there’s a gamestop across the street. For shits and giggles I go inside to look at their game selection, and I find KH 1.5 and 2.5. Now, my PS2 died a few years back (it just won’t read my discs anymore, I don’t know why) and I haven’t been able to replay any of my other kingdom hearts games since. If you had seen me the day I finished kingdom hearts 3, after the ending credits rolled, you would have heard me say “Man…. I wish I could play kingdom hearts 2 again”. AND NOW I CAN, ALONG WITH BBS which I had never even played yet, but knew the story of. I’ve restarted playing kh1, and I was so happy to hear that familiar music when I booted the game up for the first time. While at the game stop, I also picked up Rime and Tearaway, two games that had looked interesting to me. At the time of writing, I’ve finished Rime and am 25% done with tearaway. Rime was…. An interesting experience. I learned about it through Jacksepticeye’s channel a couple years back and thought the art style was enticing. For a super casual gamer like me, I found the puzzles just the right level of challenging and exploring was a blast! The music gave me VERY strong Princes Mononoke vibes, but the overall story left something to be desired. Overall I had fun, and enjoyed completing this game to 100%. Now for tearaway. Can I just say this game is super fucking adorable? I know the original was on the ps vita and the gameplay there was arguably more diverse and imaginative, but this game is just so fucking cute I don’t care?? ALSO, this game’s sound track is ABSOLUTELY incredible and I’ve only heard the first fourth of it! Listen to The Orchards, Pig Riding, and Gibbet Hill Pilgrimage for a taste of their wonderful beats and fantastic use of string and woodwinds! God, I’m so excited to get some more games in 2020. I’m proud to say I currently own more ps4 games than I ever did with my ps2 (and now the majority AREN’T Kingdom Hearts titles!), and I’m still hoping to play Journey, The Witness, and Abzu before everything becomes ps5.

What else happened to me this year. Oh, I went to a doctor for, like, the first time in seven years. I also had my blood drawn for the first time ever, and the nurse said the most disturbing thing to me while she did it. Now, whenever I get shots, I refuse to look. I did that here. So she thought it would be appropriate to say to me “Can you feel your blood leaving your body?” Lady… You can clearly see I am uncomfortable with what is happening here. Why, of all the things you could say, did you choose to say that. Unfortunately, while my doctor is nice, she keeps wanting to run tests on me, that I just cannot afford with my current salary, and my monthly insurance is about to go up to 200$ a month, so I’ve cancelled my next appointment with them, and don’t plan to go back until it’s absolutely necessary. Capitalism is fun, guys. Preventative healthcare is for wusses.

I started going to a chiropractor on a monthly basis. Story time- I don’t know when it started, but sometime late last November I began to notice that I had a headache that just... wasn’t... going away? And each day it was starting to get a little worse. It made it hard for me to find a comfortable position to sleep, it made it hard for me to be in bright areas or move fast. So I said to myself “Okay, if this headache persist through the month of december, then something is proooobably wrong and I should go see someone about it. And hoo-boy were thing wrong with me. By the time this January rolled around, I couldn’t even stay on my feet for more than a few hours without it physically hurting to just BREATHE. So I started going to this chain called The Joint (A+ name, I know). THey aksed me “How are you doing?” I said “I’m in pain” and they said “We can help fix that!”. I’ve only been to a chiropractor once before in my life a few years back after my freshmen year of college because I began to notice my hips weren’t able to support me? LIke, I would lie on my back, and I couldn’t push my hips up when my feet were flat on the floor. I also couldn’t climb anything steep, because my legs just couldn’t push me up if my knee had to bend more than 90 degrees when I lifted my leg up. (Turned out both my hips were apparently out of place). This time only one of my hips were out of place (which they fixed. they said one of my legs was an inch “longer” than the other because I had been leaning all my weight on one leg when I stand). But two of my ribs were apparently “Stuck” which was why it was hurting for me to just breathe, and one of my shoulders was missaligned too, causing one of my trap muscles to constantly be streched, which was pulling on my skull, and causing the headache. Anyway, after they popped all my bones back into place, I still felt terrible, but by god, that night was the first time in weeks I was able to sleep without a migrane. A chiropractor can’t magically heal your arthritis, or fibro, but I definately think they have merit to keeping your posture good and helping your body with things like circulation. 10 outa 10, would recomend. It’s all the fun of getting your neck snapped without the dying!

Earlier this month I got together with two of my friends and we baked Christmas cookies. It was a lot of fun, as well as a great learning experience. A member of my family has a gluten allergy, so we used rice flour for most of the cookies. We learned this is a bad idea! The cookies will just fall apart! A few member’s in one of the friend’s family have nut allergies. Other friend and I knew this and were careful to avoid cookie recipes with nuts, bUT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT ALMOND MILK AND ALMOND EXTRACT COUNT AS NUT. IN FACT, ALMOND EXTRACT IS PURE CONCENTRATED NUT JUICE AND WE FELT SO BAD FOR ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY POISONING THE FAMILY.

Earlier this year me and these same friends took a field trip to Hobby Lobby and just dicked around the store for a couple of hours. It was super fun, 11 outa 10, would recommend, a great date idea for your artsy S.O.

Back in May I went to a wedding for the first time in my life. (well, not true, but the first one I could remember) we left at 5am, drove 5 hours to get there, hung out at a zoo and spent the night in a la quinta before the wedding day. I slept on the bathroom floor because my mom was snoring too loud in the main room and keeping me awake, and the rest of the day was just spent me trying to keep myself together because I was pissed off and tired.

Other than all of that, nothing really major happened to me this year. I guess one more thing I’ve tried to do this year is started the process of breaking certain internet addictions so I can use my free time for more personal projects. Seriously, I found myself watching way too much youtube and following blogs that didn’t even make me happy. I had a personal intervention with myself where I sat down and asked myself, “why do you watch these videos and youtubers? Why do you follow these blogs? Do you really enjoy their content? Do you really care? If you stopped watching/following them, would you even notice?” After critically thinking it over, I’ve found myself unfollowing several channels and blogs and suddenly I feel so much happier. I thought I would miss it, but I realized I didn’t really care if I saw their content or not. I wasn’t missing much. And now I feel like I have more time to draw, read and write. If you think you spend too much time consuming and not enough time creating, I suggest you try and de-clutter your internet habits as well. It’s done wonders to un-fuck my headspace.

And… well, that about sums up my year. How are your holidays going? Anything fun, exciting, dramatic happen to you this year? I hope your new year is warm and safe! Good night, everybody!

[lizartgurl]

Waiting (Torpedo/Aquarocket)

Word Count: 1900+ Characters: Raquel Ervin/Rocket, Kaldur’ahm/Aqualad, Amistad Ervin, Zatanna Zatara (sort of), Nightwing (sort of), Artemis Crock/Tigress (heavily mentioned) Set during the invasion. Raquel knows Kaldur’s secret. Written for @sand-son and anyone else who’s wondering who the fate Raquel’s getting married to, whether it be lady or gentleman.

---

"You're getting married!?" Karen squealed.

Raquel nodded, grinning as she held up the hand with the diamond ring sparkling for all her friends to see.

"When's the big day?" M'gann asked.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Zatanna added.

Amistad burbled loudly, and spit out half a dozen bubbles from his spot on Artemis's knee. the women all laughed, and Zee turned on him, her fingers wiggling threateningly.

"Maybe you can tell us, Ami. Who's your new dad gonna be?" She tickled his ribs, and Raquel smiled as her little boy laughed.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

-------

Amistad was put to bed and Raquel poured over a draft with a critical eye, tapping a pen against her gritted teeth. She should be getting some rest too, Amistad rarely slept, but she had English homework to finish, and that was almost as important as sleep.

A tapping at the window made her jump, literally, out of her train of thought. And then she saw who was at the window and smiled.

"Hey, fishface," she said, helping him in the window. He'd ditched the suit, opting for an inconspicuous hoodie and jeans.

"Hello my dear," Kaldur took her hands in his and kissed her on the lips.

"Oh lord, I missed you," She gasped a moment later, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And I missed you," Just as he was about to kiss her again, Amistad started whining.

Raquel was annoyed at being interrupted, but Ami was too cute for her to stay mad at him for long. If Kaldur was annoyed, he didn't show it. He obediently followed Raquel to the nursery helping her tend to their son.

"You are wearing the ring," he observed, handing her a warm bottle of milk.

"Well yeah, did you think I wasn't?" She asked, bouncing Amistad gently as she tried to coax the bottle into his mouth.

"Didn't people ask questions?"

"Well sure they did, but I didn't tell them. Look, I know it's a risk, but I want to wear it. I want people to know that I'm taken, that I'm yours," she squeezed his hand.

"Besides, it's fun to see the looks on the girl's faces when I refuse to tell them who I'm getting married to," she grinned.

"Raquel Ervin, you are too much."

"Don't pretend you don't love it," She sang, walking Amistad up and down the hall while she burped him.

Kaldur smiled to himself, watching her pace and coo at their son.

"Yes," he said quietly, "that is why I proposed to you."

-------

Zatanna had just called to tell her about Malina island the next time she saw him. She made up an excuse about Amistad being fussy, hung up, and quickly let him in.

"I just heard," she said, noticing his heavy breathing. She helped him stumble into a chair at the kitchen table and got him a large glass of water. Amistad was sitting in his high chair, and banged his tiny fists against the tray. He was always excited to see Kaldur.

"I couldn't save them," Kaldur said, staring at the glass Raquel placed in his hand. "I couldn’t save the Kroloteans.”

He raised his glass half-heartedly. “But at least Manta has sealed his place within the Light and I have won his trust," he said sarcastically. Amistad cooed, raising his arms like KAldur did and flinging food everywhere.

"I know, I know, don't beat yourself up, Kal," she squeezed his empty hand. "You did all that you could, I know you did. And that's all we can do."

Kaldur set aside his cup, and kissed Raquel, much to Amistad's delight.

"I love you, Raquel Ervin."

"I love you too, Kaldur'ahm. Even if you are a hopeless idiot. Now help me feed the baby before he tosses out all his food."

-------

The next visit was much shorter than the last two.

"I have to report to my father, but had to tell you-"

"Artemis and Wally are in on it and you had to win the trust of the other Light whackjobs. Nightwing told me." She told him, placing her hand on his chest.

Kaldur held her close, kissing the top of her head. "It's getting more dangerous. Nightwing thought that sending Artemis undercover would give me a boost, she has more knowledge of the criminal world workings than anyone else."

"Well you cost me my best babysitter, Fishface. You owe me." She warned.

Kaldur leaned down so that their foreheads touched. "Then let me make up for it."

-------

She felt guilty having the bridal shower Karen and Dinah threw at her, both keeping the identity of her fiance and the knowledge of Artemis's survival from them, from her friends, the ones who loved her so much they put together a bridal shower for her without even knowing when the wedding would be or just who the heck she was getting hitched to.

"To the bride!" M'gann cheered, wearing that same smile she used to give everyone years ago, back when she was still that peppy cheerleader that Raquel only found slightly annoying.

And as everyone toasted her a happy marriage, Raquel made her own silent prayer that she'd actually get to be married.

-------

She left Amistad with the elderly next-door-neighbor and barged into the team's makeshift base the moment she heard.

"What the heck happened, Nightwing, you tell me right now!" She shouted, lifting him by the collar of his kevlar suit. Rick looked to Connor for help, but the boy of steel was staying out of it.

Impulse, Beast Boy, and Wonder Girl had gathered at the commotion Rocket was causing, and long story short that's how Nightwing's plan came out to the rest of his team.

"Tigress- who is Artemis- took M'gann to help Kaldur. So long as the three of them have each other, I think they should be okay." He finished up. "All we can do is wait."

"You think!?" Raquel snapped as the freshman watched in terrified awe. "You're the freaking boy wonder, Richard John Grayson, you'd better darn well know that they'll all be safe the next time you try to pull a stunt like this."

-------

Zatanna visited that night, finding Raquel on the couch watching informercials with Amistad asleep on her lap, the two surrounded by unfinished homework and empty junk food containers.

"Oh, Raquel," she whispered, taking Amistad from Raquel to let her friend curl up and cry.

"I knew it was gonna be like this when I said yes, why did I say yes?" she sobbed as Zee rubbed her back in circles. "He could be dead right now! And so could M'gann and Artemis!"

"They aren't, you know they aren't!" Zatanna insisted. "Artemis is a fighter and M'gann is so incredibly powerful, they won't let anything happen to Kaldur. And now that we know that he's not evil, neither will the rest of us."

"So you know?"

Zee giggled, "You're not the only one with an affinity for bad boys," She admitted.

Raquel leaned her shoulder on Zee's head. "I miss when we were on the team, back when everyone trusted each other."

Zee kissed her forehead in a totally platonic but completely loving way. "I think I know just what you need."

-------

She came home from Zatanna’s suggested mission to Bialya tired and sore, pondering if she still had some ice cream left over in the fridge or if she had enough energy to take Amistad out to the frozen yogurt place down the street. She said good-bye to the sitter, and then the tapping came at the window.

With Amistad still propped on her shoulder, she ran back to the kitchen. And there he was, still there, still alive.

He opened the window himself, whispering her name over and over as he held her and their son in his arms.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," she sobbed. Then Ami started crying too. Kaldur took him without hesitation, carefully bouncing him and rocking him as he'd seen Raquel do.

"So what happened?" She asked at the two sat on the couch, watching Amistad play on the blanket with his toys from Auntie Dinah and the rest of the League.

"M'gann was able to fix what she had destroyed, I feel fine, nothing out of place, and my memories are still intact-" he paused suddenly, looking at Raquel's hand.

"Why do you have a ring on your finger?"

Raquel grabbed pillow after pillow and lobbed them at him. "And you said I was a tease!" She spluttered as they both laughed. Amistad gave a laugh of his own.

Kaldur blocked her pillows with his arms, and grabbed Raquel, holding her in his arms.

"Soon, my dear," he promised soothingly, "The team is pulling Artemis and me out in a few days. You do not have to wait much longer."

-------

Like any good mother, Raquel made sure her boy was far from the danger of aliens threatening the world. She put him on the Watchtower with Catherine Cobert and Simon Carr to watch him, while she and literally every other League member, team member, and ally gathered outside of Lex Luthor's building, of all places, to stop the Reach's Endgame.

She stood by Kaldur's side, while Luthor droned on, holding his hand so tightly you'd think the heavy winds would suddenly carry him away from her again.

They were each put on different squads, Kaldur with his old friend Lagoon Boy, and Raquel with the, er, strange Doctor Strange.

"Good luck," He whispered, quickly kissing her forehead. Dang, he looked so good back in his old red-and-black uniform again.

"Go save the world, Fishface," she smiled at him.

And they did.

-------

Raquel had been waiting for six months. You'd think that two weeks would be easy.

It. Was. Torture.

Since they didn't really know when Kaldur would finish his job undercover, and since Raquel couldn't quite tell everyone exactly who she was engaged to without blowing his cover, plans that would have spanned over a few months or maybe even a year were crammed into those two weeks.

Raquel wanted to just have a plain and simple wedding to get it over with, but then Dinah and Oliver stepped up and offered to pay for the whole thing, and she couldn't refuse that. And then there were Atlantean and surface cultures clashing where both Kaldur and Raquel each wanted their partner to be able to have their culture represented as much as possible.

Somehow, it all worked out.

It was held in a small church in Dakota city, on the edge of the street where she grew up. Atlanteans and metas and normal human friends crowded the tiny white building, each fighting for a better view of Augustus helping Amistad walk down the aisle as the ring bearer, or Roy Harper carrying his daughter and her basket of petal bombs which she promptly pelted at the guests more so than the floor, and of course, the beautiful bride herself.

Raquel met eyes with Kaldur as she entered the chapel, watching his face glowing and his smile growing as she approached him step by step.

After all she'd been through and all the time she'd waited, the ceremony flew past, and soon enough they were kissing and people were cheering and Amistad was clapping his chubby little fists as he was handed back to his parents.

"So was it worth the wait?" Kaldur whispered lowly, kissing her again.

"Oh it was, Fishface," she grinned, "Worth it and more."