#ugh......i need to write more of the epilogue NOW

[ghost-t-cryptids]

Lost and alone in the desert

(My commissions are OPEN!)

(Piece without text underneath!)

[ariaste]

A Discussion on Book Endings

Hey, friends. Thanks for coming today. I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is an intervention. Please, don't get defensive -- everyone here loves you and cares about you. But listen... I'm gonna need book readers and reviewers to reflect on the idea that finishing a book and going "Oh, I loved it so much, but I wish it was just a few pages longer!" is not really a valid point of negative critique in the assessment of a text.

Let me explain.

When I read people's otherwise wildly positive reviews of books and they say that line, I don't interpret it in context as, "This story needed to be a few pages longer for the plot to work, structurally, and for the ending to achieve a solid resolution." Rather, they basically seem to be saying simply, "I loved it and I didn't want it to end." That's always a GREAT feeling, but then they're.... taking points off from their total rating because of that??? They seem to be penalizing the author because they weren't left with a feeling of "Ugh, thank god it's over"? It's like, "This would have been five stars if it had had just one more chapter but it made me sad that it ended, so four stars" -- Guys, do we understand that's an insane take? It's insane. A book has to end. If you shriek "NO!!!" that it's over because you were having such a great time, that's... that's a symptom of a 5-star book, babes. I'm not sure why there's such a fashion these days for penalizing authors for this particular thing in this particular way, but it's really baffling to me.

But setting aside the puzzling trend of "I'm knocking points off because it ended when it should have gone on until I personally was fully bored and exhausted of it, like the 11th season of a TV show that was only supposed to go until season 4" -- listen, I guarantee you that nine times out of ten, when you're out here longing for just one more chapter or saying "this could have used an epilogue" you... are wishing for something that would have actively ruined your enjoyment and the quality of the book.

Are you a writer yourself? Have you ever finished writing a book before? Have you done it more than once? Have you deeply studied the endings of books? They are HARD, let me tell you what. Endings are so much harder than beginnings, because you're looking for that beautiful final note, like the ending of a symphony, and you're trying to ride it for a few glorious seconds before the FLOURISH and dum-dummmmmm....! and the conductor collapses as the audience bursts into applause! Right? Yes? Except that chances are that one more chapter or epilogue would ruin the pacing and resolution of the ending and muddle up the summary of the theme and thesis statement, and all of this WOULD ACTUALLY fuck up your experience of the story as a whole. For example, please consider the last Harry Potter book as an example. We all hate JKR now for being a TERF but oh, children, how quickly we forget that back in the olden times, we used to hate her for that fucking epilogue that made everything that came before feel rancid and pointless and hollow and cheap. Y'all remember how sickening and infuriating that was? Do you remember the Hunger Games epilogue? Nine times out of ten, that's what you're inexplicably wishing for.

To see this point illustrated, let's do a quick exercise together. Go pick out a piece of classical music -- some of my best suggestions for this are Beethoven's Ode to Joy, or "Der Holle Rache" from Mozart's Magic Flute, or Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Listen to it all the way through. If you're struggling with scrolling addiction and your attention span has been severely damaged, fine, listen to the last two minutes ("Der Holle Rache" is the shortest, just 3 minutes). Then, after the song is done, click back to some random spot earlier in the piece, listen to another 30 seconds, and then stop. Consider: Did adding that last 30 seconds materially improve the piece, or did it undermine the overall emotional journey? Did it help the ending to stick the landing even more than it already did, or does it just feel weirdly stuck-on as an afterthought, like the "for more fun videos, check out the rest of our channel and don't forget to subscribe!!!" card at the end of youtube videos?

When you are wishing for an epilogue, my doves, you are wishing for something you do not actually want -- or which you probably would not want if you had the option to see it in practice and compare it side by side with the original. You are wishing for something that would more than likely make the story worse. You are holding the author at fault for something being wrong with the text only because you hit immersion and were having a lot of fun and didn't want to come back up for air. Like, I'm just not sure that's something that the author should be blamed for? It sounds like they were doing their job really well???

Please, just. Separate your feelings of "bittersweet disappointment that this wonderful book is over" from "frustration that the author didn't stick the landing, ugh what a flop" because they are two separate things. Before you say "I'm taking points off because I wish there was more", please take two seconds to ask yourself critical thinking questions like, "Why did the author choose to end the book here rather than in two more chapters?" because (other than a few wild outliers that should not be counted) the answer is never, "They got bored and just didn't feel like finishing the story." Chances are, they chose that specific ending for a reason. They ended it there because that's the point that underlines the thesis statement of the book, or because the emotions of that scene are the ones they want you to remember and walk away with, or because that marks the place where the story arc is genuinely over. When the author says, "And they all lived happily ever after," that means that what happily-ever-after looks like is in your hands now.

Nine times out of ten, you don't want one more chapter. Please. I promise you that you don't want one more chapter. The book is done; what you want now is either fanfiction or someone to talk about it with. Or maybe to start the book over from the beginning! Believe me, you would not want one more chapter if you had it. (Or, if you did have it and it magically didn't suck, you would just keep wanting more chapters because that's what "really enjoying the book" means. In which case, go read fanfic, that's what it is for.) I promise you, I promise you, the book would probably be worse with one more chapter and you would not like it as much. Please stop wishing for the author to be less good at their job. Please. A book has to end; so does this post. And we all live happily ever after*. The End.

----- * The post-canon coffeeshop AU sequel will be detailed exhaustively on AO3

[corroded-hellfire]

Where the Heart Is: Epilogue - Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 5

Summary: It’s moving day and the next chapter of your life with Eddie is beginning. And somewhere down the road, pieces of your heart collide with one another, making your anniversary all the more meaningful.

Note: The story has finally come to its close. It amazes me that this was never intended to be a series at all—it turned into one purely because it became so requested of me. It’s been a year since this fic first posted and the number of you who have stood by all this time to see it to the end hold such a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your kind words, generous reblogs, and all the love I’ve received over this story. I have loved writing in this world and would always be open to receiving requests in it. I hope you enjoy this little slice of their happily ever after 🧡

Words: 4.6k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

Steve sits down on the edge of the U-Haul, trying to catch his breath after shoving Eddie’s amp on board. The bed of the moving truck is decently full already. The Harrington household was the first stop, and Steve’s things bound for Boston were loaded yesterday. 

Today at the Munsons, it’s time to do the heavy lifting. Well, for Eddie and Steve to do the heavy lifting. Not to say that you and Nancy aren’t helping, but you have the easier job of loading up the back of Eddie’s van with boxes full of clothes and other smaller and more delicate objects that are certainly lighter than the alternative. 

“What’re ya whining about now, Harrington?” Eddie says, sweat dripping from the curls that frame his face. His hair is in a bun at the base of his neck but it’s not enough to keep him cool in the late August heat. 

“That amp weighs more than your bed did,” Steve says. 

“No shit,” Eddie argues, wiping his sweaty forehead off on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Because one is a mattress and a basic frame to hold it up and the other is a goddamn expensive piece of musical equipment. I hope you didn’t ding it at all.”

“I’ll ding you,” Steve mumbles under his breath as he stands back up.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve says as he hops up the steps back into the trailer. 

“How ya doing, babe?” you ask, coming over to Eddie after carrying a box of his D&D stuff over to his van. 

“Hot. Sweaty. Tired.”

“Aww,” you coo and wrap your arms around his neck. It doesn’t matter in the slightest to you that he’s all sweaty—you’ve been the cause of him getting sweaty many times before. Eddie rests his hands on your hips and pecks your lips. 

“Eddie!” Wayne calls from inside.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you bringing your desk?”

Your boyfriend chews on his bottom lip, deliberating. “Well, do you wanna keep it?”

“What the hell do I need a desk for?” Wayne asks, making you chuckle. 

“Okay, we’ll take it.” Eddie huffs a laugh and gives your hip a squeeze.

“I’m glad that Wayne’s getting a proper bedroom back,” you say.

“And I’m sure he’s glad that we’re bringing the old bed with us and he’s getting a new one. I don’t think he’d get much sleep on it thinking about what you and I have done on it.”

“That doesn’t even include you on your own for years before that,” you tease. Eddie digs his fingers into your ribs, making you squeal and giggle as he tickles you.

Nancy comes out of the trailer, balancing two medium sized boxes in her arms. She raises her eyebrows at Eddie as she walks past him to get to his van.

“Wayne looks like he’s planning on helping Steve carry that desk out here. I’d get your ass in there,” she warns.

Eddie sighs. “Ugh, stubborn old man.” He kisses the top of your head before disappearing inside his home—or rather, former home. 

You walk over and help Nancy load up the two boxes she just brought out. Both of you walk over towards the U-Haul and Nancy smacks her hand against the side of it.

“I am not looking forward to driving in this thing with Steve all day,” she says. “He’s never driven something this big but of course he’d never admit that it’ll be difficult.”

You chuckle and nod along, knowing your boyfriend would be the same way. You open your mouth to respond when you hear yelling coming from inside.

“No, tilt it like this!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Remind me to never let you work on my car if this is the way you handle things!”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head.

“Do you think it’s too late to tell them that they can’t move in with us?” she asks. 

Once everything is on the truck and ready to go, Steve and Nancy say their goodbyes to Wayne and slip into the front seats, giving you and Eddie the chance for a more private farewell. You give Wayne a big hug, which he happily returns.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” you promise.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head as the two of you pull apart. 

“Just worried about how long before you call me to come pick him up ‘cause you’ve had enough of him.”

“Never,” you assure Wayne, taking one of his weathered hands in yours and giving it a squeeze.

“You heard her,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “She’s never letting me go. I’m gonna be a prisoner.”

“Locked up in a nice Boston apartment with your girl and two of your best friends,” Wayne says, shaking his head. “When will justice be served?” 

When you step back from Wayne, you’re not sure if Eddie wants you to stay or go wait in the van while he says goodbye to the man who raised him. When your boyfriend playfully tugs your ear on the way to his uncle though, you take it as it’s fine for you to be here. 

“Well, I’ll see ya soon, Old Man,” Eddie says as he pulls Wayne in for a hug. 

“You drive safe, okay?” Wayne asks, his hand clapping his nephew on the back as they hug. “And I mean real safe, not ‘Eddie safe,’ okay? You got precious cargo there you’re carrying.” Wayne throws you a wink over Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says. He pulls back and sighs. “Gotta make sure my guitar gets to Boston unharmed.”

Wayne shakes his head and turns to you. “He ever acts up, just smack him on the back of the head. Like this.”

“Ow!” Eddie complains, reaching up to cover the spot where his uncle just thunked him. With a small giggle, you nod your head, affirming that you’ll know what to do.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Eddie sighs and claps his hand onto Wayne’s shoulder. 

“You take care, you hear me? Don’t make me start sending Red over here to check on you. Or maybe I’ll just call Abigail.”

At the sound of his new girlfriend’s name, Wayne rolls his eyes. 

“I can take care of myself. I’ll see you up there in Boston for Thanksgiving,” he says.

Eddie nods. He goes to take a step towards the van but twists and gives Wayne another hug instead.

“Thanks for everything, Wayne. I mean it. For everything.”

“You’re a good kid,” Wayne says as he hugs him back, tighter than the last time, you notice. “‘M proud of you, son.”

By the time they break apart, your eyes have misted over. Blinking away the tears seems to help, but one or two manage to escape and slide down your cheeks. 

Eddie walks over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“Ready, sweet girl?”

“Let’s go.”

The two of you hop into the van and, ahead of you, Steve starts up the truck. Eddie’s van rumbles to life and you just pray this thing makes it to Boston. Perks of having a mechanic for a boyfriend, though, are that you don’t have to wait around forever to have some mechanic come by and check it out, then fork out the big bucks for whatever is wrong with it. 

Eddie puts the van in drive and follows Steve down the road, towards the exit of Forest Hills. Dark brown eyes flick up towards the rear-view mirror. Eddie watches the front door to the trailer close behind Wayne and takes a long look at the home he grew up in. It’s small, old, and not in the best condition. But it’s where he’s lived his life and had some of the best times he’s ever had. It’ll be weird to him to have a new home. To be in a new city. In a new state. But he’s excited. Excited to turn the page and start this next chapter of his life with you. 

Rough, callused fingers find yours as you pull out of the trailer park. You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand up to your hand for a kiss. 

“You okay, handsome?” you ask.

The grin he gives you makes your breath catch in your chest. You’ll never get over how breathtakingly beautiful he is. The way his curls frame his face just right and how his long eyelashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks. 

“Me?” Eddie asks. “Never been better, baby.”

If Steve and Eddie thought that getting furniture out of both their houses and into the truck was hard, they’re in for a nasty surprise. The apartment you’re all sharing is on the second floor of the off-white building the moving van and Eddie’s truck are parked in front of. Both Steve and Nancy’s cars are parked behind the building, in a small private lot. Steve had driven his car here and then flown back with Nancy before the move. 

“Ah, Jesus,” Steve sighs as he takes a look at the staircase the two of them will be maneuvering furniture up. 

One of the advantages of living close to the school though, is that students are always around, either passing through or lodging somewhere nearby. Luckily, two guys from your and Nancy’s English class last semester come out of the apartment building next to yours. 

“Whoa, need some help?” One of the guys, Jerry, asks when he sees the U-haul stuffed to the brim with furniture and boxes. 

“Boys?” Nancy asks, turning to face your boyfriends. “Will your pride allow you to let others help?”

“Shit, my pride got knocked out of me the second time I dropped my dresser on my foot,” Eddie says. He turns to Jerry and offers his hand. “We’d appreciate that, man.”

With the help of Jerry and his friend Rich, all of the furniture and belongings are moved into apartment 286 within a few hours. The two good Samaritans wouldn’t accept pizza and beer as a thank you, just insisted helping was no trouble and it counted as their workout for the day. 

Between the loading of the vehicles, the long drive, then the unloading of the vehicles, the four of you are thoroughly exhausted. All of the furniture is still in pieces and none of you care beyond making sure each bedroom has the right mattress in it for your inevitable crashes tonight. 

“Thank God the bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment,” Eddie says to you as you walk out from your shared bedroom. 

“I said the same thing to Nance not ten minutes ago,” Steve says. He sets down a box labeled “Living Room” in big black letters. “I don’t wanna hear a damn thing that’s gonna go on in that room of yours.”

“Glad we could finally agree on something,” Eddie says as he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“That’s fine,” Nancy says as she comes out of her and Steve’s room. “But you know we will talk about what goes on in there to each other, right? Girl code and all.”

“Girl code consists of telling each other what goes on in the bedroom?” Steve asks, eyebrows so high they’re practically hidden in his hair. 

“Not everything,” you say to placate the men. Even though, obviously, you and Nancy do discuss just about everything that goes on in there with each other. What else are you supposed to talk about when getting coffee together?

“Okay, I’m starving,” Eddie says, resting his free hand on his stomach. “Please tell me we have a goddamn phone book so I can order some food.”

Pizza is ordered and delivered, and since none of you had brought a couch to your new home, the four of you sit on the floor in the middle of what will become your living room as you eat it. Steve pours a cup of Pepsi for everyone, and you all raise your red solo cups. 

“What should we toast to?” you ask. 

“A smooth semester,” Nancy says.

“To Munson and I finding good jobs here,” Steve adds. 

“And to the many adventures we’re gonna have and how they’ll make everyone back in Hawkins completely jealous,” Eddie says. 

“Let’s try and keep them in this dimension, yeah?” you say.

“Deal,” Eddie replies.

“To our new beginnings!” you say as you lift your cup. 

The four of you tap your cups together, being careful not to be too hard lest you spill some. 

It’s an early night, considering how exhausted you all are. That’s why when you come out of the bathroom, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes, the last thing you expected to see when you walked into your room was Eddie plugging in a strand of multicolored Christmas lights. The strings of lights are draped over piles of boxes, Eddie’s dresser, your bedside table, and a bookshelf you’d brought. 

The lamp connected to the fan on the ceiling is still on, so it’s hard to really see the glow emanating from the little bulbs.

“What’s all this?” you ask, tapping your fingernail against one of the small red lights. 

“Well,” Eddie says as he stands up from his crouched position, “I remember you told me at Christmas you would hang lights in your room and watch them blink and shine as you fell asleep. And, I mean, I know it’s not Christmas time, but I figured these lights might make you happy anyway.”

Your face feels stuck between a grin and a cry as you walk over to your boyfriend. His cheeks are warm as you cup them in your hands and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love them. I love you,” you say softly. “They do make me happy. But you make me the happiest.” You take another look around the room, watching the different colors do their best to be seen in the brightly lit room. “These lights kind of follow us, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “Pretty sure we have custody of them by this point.”

“Maybe tomorrow we can hang them up? Like they were in the van?” you ask. “I mean, who needs crown molding when you have Christmas lights?”

Eddie chuckles and runs his hands up and down your arms.

“God, I can’t believe this is our room. That I get to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up to you each morning.”

“And some fun stuff in between.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Think we should christen the room?” Eddie asks.

Instead of answering, you get down on the mattress that’s on the floor while the bed frame is still dismantled. You pull your pajama shirt up over your head and toss it behind you.

“Pants off, Munson.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

Eddie practically hops out of his pants and throws them in a corner. He yanks the longer chain attached to the ceiling fan and the main light goes dark. Dozens of pretty lights twinkle and dance as you take in the strands around the room. The only word you can come up with to describe how it looks is magical. 

There’s a dip on the bed next to you and you look over to see Eddie stripping himself of his shirt as he sits down. He lays back against his pillows and opens his arms for you.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Let’s fool around on our bed.”

Three Months Later

The apartment is fuller than you’ve ever seen it. You’re in the kitchen, checking on the green bean casserole that you made. Your friends and boyfriend unanimously decided you should be in charge of the side dishes for Thanksgiving because you’re the best cook. Nancy has been making cookies for the last few days with Holly, who flew in for the holiday. That left Eddie and Steve in charge of the turkey. You’re not sure how that’ll go, and if you made a few too many side dishes in case the bird ends up inedible, so what?

“Oh, sweetie?”

You turn around from washing off your hands in the kitchen sink to see Steve’s mom standing before you with the pumpkin and apple pies she brought. 

“Can I help you, Mrs. Harrington?” you ask.

When she smiles you immediately know where Steve acquired that feature. Similarly, Mr. Harrington, who is out in the living room talking with Wayne, has the same eyes and nose as his son. They share the same confidence too, even if Mr. Harrington’s sometimes borders on cocky.

“Did you want the pies in the fridge?” Mrs. Harrington asks.

“Oh! Yes, please.” You open the refrigerator door and carefully take the desserts from her and lay them near the carton of milk. “I’ll put those in the oven after everyone is done with dinner.”

Mrs. Harrington takes one of your hands in hers and gives it a soft squeeze.

“Take a deep breath, dear. I know it can seem overwhelming, but you’re doing great. Everything smells delicious. If you need any help, you let me know, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Thank you.”

She gives you one last kind smile before walking back out to the living room. 

Somehow, you feel calmer after just those few words from Mrs. Harrington. You’ve never even met her before today, but her nurturing presence was comforting. It’s a melancholy feeling because you’ll never have that with your own mother. As much as you’ve accepted that, it still finds a way to sting every now and again. 

A ding on the oven lets you know that the biscuits are done. Once you’ve gotten them out of the oven and given the stuffing a few stirs, you see someone come into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s my favorite cook.”

You giggle and step forward to hug Wayne. You’d hugged him when he arrived earlier, but you’re stealing another one now anyway. 

“And look at that!” Wayne says. “Wearing the apron I got you for Christmas last year.”

“Oh, I wear this every time I cook,” you tell him proudly, looking down at the turquoise material tied around your waist. There are a few stains here and there despite your best efforts to keep it pristine. 

Eddie pops into the kitchen claps a hand against Wayne’s back before coming to stand next to you.

“Need any help, babe?” he asks. 

“Actually, I think dinner is just about ready. Help me set the table?”

“No way,” Wayne says with a shake of his head. “You worked hard cooking all this for us, Eddie and I will get everything out on the table.”

The dishes exit the kitchen one by one, to be laid out on the dining room table and Eddie’s old desk that have been pushed together and covered with a burnt sunset tablecloth. The chairs are mismatched as well, but you all had to work with what you’ve got. 

Once it seems like everything has been situated, you take a deep breath. It’s out of your hands now. All you can do is hope people enjoy the food you made. 

Everyone is gathering around the table, sitting down in front of lovely place settings that Nancy worked very hard on. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington take two seats at the far end of the table. Steve sits down next to his father at the head of the table, with Nancy on his other side. Holly giggles about something Steve said as she slides in the chair next to her big sister. 

Wayne slips past you and takes a seat next to Mrs. Harrington. The second head of the table, opposite Steve, is free and you give a little bow and motion for Eddie to take it. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

The two empty place settings on either side of Eddie seem to stare at you. The extra chairs mock you as you look over the people sitting at the table in your home. Steve and his parents, Nancy and her little sister, Eddie with his uncle. Family. Not just the individual ones, but as a collective group. The four of you who live in this apartment have brought the people in their lives into all of your lives. It’s an extension of a family that keeps going on and on. 

“Ah,” Eddie says as he hops up from his seat. “Forgot the wine that Wayne brought.” He gives your lips a quick peck before walking into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile as you watch him. This is where you belong. Eddie is your family and your home. 

The quiet knocking pulls you out of your latest Eddie-zone-out. It sounds again and you realize someone is knocking on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” you say as Steve starts to stand. 

The cold doorknob bites your hand as you twist it to reveal who’s standing there. At first your eyes are too high, catching on a familiar face but not quite the one that fills you with glee. When you look down, there she is. Large, inquisitive eyes, wide smile, and two pigtail braids to top off her lovely purple dress. 

They’re here. You’d extended the invitation to your sister months ago, but never heard back. That wasn’t unusual of your sister, but it did complicate your planning. Nancy insisted that you have the extra place settings and chairs for them just in case. Though you truly believed it would all be in vain, you agreed. 

Tears collect along your waterline, and you know it won’t be long before they’re leaking down your face. 

“I am so happy you’re here. Look at how tall you got!” You lean down and Chloe instantly jumps into your arms. The hug you give her is as tight as it can possibly be without hurting her. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too!” Chloe says as she pulls away and you stand up. 

More surprising than opening your front door and seeing your sister and niece, your sister leans in and pulls you into a hug.

“It’s really nice to see you,” she says.

As stunned as you are, you manage to hug her back. It’s a warm and comforting hug—something you never thought you’d get from her again. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Melanie.” You find yourself actually meaning those words. This is certainly no indication that things will become more stable between the two of you, but at least it’s a nice gesture on a holiday.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell both of them, but give Chloe a wink. “Eddie? Babe?”

He steps out of the kitchen, wine bottle in hand, and his head swivels as he searches for you. You see his eyes take in you, then the woman and little girl who look very similar to you. A grin lights up his face and you just know how happy he is for you. He sets the wine bottle down on the table and walks over to you. The closer he gets, the shyer Chloe becomes. Though she’s too big for it now, she tries to hide herself behind your legs. 

“Eddie, this is my sister Melanie and my niece Chloe,” you say. 

Your boyfriend squats so he can be on more of an even level with the girl. He offers a hand to her.

“It’s nice to meet my girlfriend’s favorite person,” he says. 

Chloe still looks a little unsure, but she comes out from behind your legs just enough to shake his hand. 

“I think that’s you,” she tells Eddie softly.

“Why’s that?” Eddie tilts his head in curiosity. 

“Because she’s never smiled like that when she’s looked at me before.” Chloe looks up at you, now a speechless mess, and then lowers her head to look at Eddie again. “When you came outta the kitchen. It was a big, big smile. I never seen her smile that big before.”

Heat rises to your face as your niece calls out your terminal case of lovesickness. Eddie doesn’t seem to know what to say either as he stands back up and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s, um. Let’s all sit down before the food gets cold,” you suggest. In your frazzled state, you forgot you didn’t exactly introduce your sister and boyfriend properly. You quickly remedy the situation and let them shake hands and have a polite greeting while you bring Chloe to the other side of the table where you’re sitting. 

“Here we go,” you say as you help her into her chair. “This is Holly. She’s my friend Nancy’s little sister. That’s Nancy there, that’s Steve, those are Steve’s mom and dad, and this is Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.”

Chloe is seated directly across from Wayne and gives him a shy smile. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Wayne greets. “Are you happy to see your aunt?”

“Yes!” Her face lights up and it absolutely melts your heart. 

Eddie and Melanie come over and join you at the table; Eddie next to you at the head of the table, and Melanie directly across from you. A special sort of warmth you’ve never felt before overtakes your body. It's comforting, like wrapping yourself in the fluffiest blanket on a cold day. The source of this feeling smacks you in the face. You’re sitting between your two favorite people in the world. A part of you never thought this would actually happen, but here it is. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way. 

Steve rises at the opposite end of the table, his wine glass in hand. It looks like someone poured it in Eddie’s absence. All heads turn to Steve, some unfamiliar faces staring back at him, and a lot of familiar ones. It doesn’t make a difference though. Steve is addressing everyone at the table. 

“We’re grateful that each of us has some family with us today. The world is crazy, and you never know when things are going to go upside down.”

You, Eddie, and Nancy share a look, smirks on each of your faces at Steve’s hidden joke that only you three would get. 

“So, here’s to family, friends, and the moments that bring us together.”

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, reminiscent of the four of you knocking your red solo cups of Pepsi against each other. The difference between then and now is purely the nicer dinnerware and fuller apartment. The sentiment is still the same. A celebration of what you’ve accomplished so far and excitement for the adventures that lie ahead. 

Under the table, Eddie laces his fingers with yours. Your mind wanders back to last Thanksgiving. The first time you and Eddie held hands. The first time you kissed. The first time you met. Back then, you never could have imagined what was beginning to blossom. The surprise of it sneaking up on you is half the fun. 

Now you’re here, exactly where you belong. The people around this table own pieces of your heart, with Eddie holding the largest shard. This is what family is. This is home.

Eddie lifts your hands from under the table and presses a kiss to your knuckles. The soft chink of your charm bracelet the only sound penetrating the bubble that you and Eddie are in. Your newest charm, the little silver turkey you received this morning, stares up at you from where it rests on your wrist. 

Soft lips on the back of your hand have your eyes rising to meet Eddie’s again. He leans in and steals a soft, tender kiss. A small giggle from behind you lets you know that you’re being spied on. But you couldn’t care less who watches you kiss your boyfriend. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” someone calls, you’re not sure who. 

Eddie just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eddie.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Typical Stark - Epilogue

A/N: Now we can say goodbye to this series. This was such a treat to write. I’ll miss this series! Leave a comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Death by domestic fluff.

Word count: Just a bit over 1k.

Typical Stark Masterlist

.

“Tony, not like that!”

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna have to start trusting your husband, Y/N.” Tony sighed, watching you hunch over to redo all of his work in your garden.

“Oh yeah? Say that to my peonies you killed last week.” you huffed, brushing hair out your way before staring pointedly at him, quieting any further arguments.

It was a sunny day at the lakehouse. Your house that Tony surprised you with right after you came back from your honeymoon.

It was away from the city, still close enough to commute to the Avengers compound. Surrounded by nature and all the calm and quiet you didn’t know you needed. A throwaway detail you never realized your husband picked up on. You’d mentioned to him once how it had been a dream of yours to have a house by a lake, a big garden where you could grow your favorite flowers and vegetables.

The man never ceased to surprise you.

“Mama!”

You heard your five year old cry before her tiny but urgent footsteps caught up to you two, her brown hair billowing in the breeze as held up a glass for you.

“We made you lemonade.” she explained with a proud grin, making you smile adoringly.

“Did you now? Thank you, my love.” You’d been wanting a drink to cool down anyway, stomach grumbling a little with hunger as you stood up. The sudden movement made your head spin a little as you stumbled, reaching out to hold Tony’s arm.

“Whoa. You okay, hon?” he rubbed your back, eyes full of worry.

“Yeah. Just a head rush. I’m fine.”

You took a big gulp of the drink, feeling better already before picking up your daughter and settling her on your hip, giving her a big kiss. You settled her on your lap as you sat on a wooden bench in your garden.

“Is it good, mama?” her big brown eyes that she’d inherited from her father bore into yours as she waited for an answer, giving you her biggest grins when you told her you loved it.

“Where’s my drink, little miss?” Tony asked as he gave Morgan a little tickle, causing her to squirm and giggle in your arms.

“You made the pretty pink flowers wither and die, Dada. No lemonade for you.”

You had to stifle a laugh watching Tony pull a face at his daughter. It was a delight watching the two of them interact. In more ways than one, Morgan had taken after Tony, but more often than not, you saw glimpses of yourself in her too.

“Wither and die? Why are you growing up so fast?” Tony shook his head at the both of you in faux exasperation.

Hearing Peter call her inside, she wiggled out of your grasp and ran back inside, leaving the two of you alone. Sighing, you put your feet up on the bench, leaning back and closing your eyes, letting out a groan as Tony gave you a quick foot massage. Baby Stark number two was still a long way but you were already exhausted.

“Ugh, my feet are killing me today.”

Back in the house, you could see Peter Parker and Morgan scuttling around in the kitchen, your daughter waving at you both from the window, making you chuckle.

“Seems only yesterday we brought that tiny little bundle home huh?”

You hummed in agreement, both of you recalling the day your daughter was born. It had been the longest fourteen hours of your life.

.

“I swear to God I am never having sex with you, Tony Stark.” you glared at the man who was quite frankly terrified of you in the moment, watching you pace about the hospital room, wildly uncomfortable and irritated with everything.

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep, honey.” he did his best to calm you, rubbing your back gently as you stood gripping the back of a chair. Your contractions had been coming along steadily, each one worse than the last. The doctors had informed you hadn’t dilated the required amount yet, so there was still time for the baby to come.

This one was bad though, you felt like your stomach was being wound tight with hot iron bands, the pain came in waves, draining you of your energy. The nurse placed her hand on your belly, letting you know it was time before carrying you out to the delivery room in a wheelchair; while a panicked but excited Tony followed you right out.

“You’re doing so great, sweetheart. Keep pushing.” Tony winced in pain at your grip on his hand, kissing your sweaty, matted hair while you screamed in agony.

“I hate you, Anthony Edward Stark! You better run for your life when this baby comes out.” you gritted your teeth, tears rolling down your cheeks as you panted, resting back just for a moment before it was time to push again.

The doctors and him shared a sympathetic look, he was sure they’d heard it all and probably worse.

“I love you too, Y/N. Come on, time to meet our little girl now, yeah? Push.” he wiped your sweat away, encouraging you every step of the way, chuckling at the angry threats you threw at him.

One final push and she was out, you fell back against the chair in exhaustion, eyes closed before you felt a soft and warm tiny body placed on your chest, who was wailing angrily.

She had a mop of dark brown hair, red face contorted, tiny hands balled up in fists. The most beautiful baby girl. Your baby girl.

Wrapping her up in a little bundle, the nurses handed her to Tony, who looked down at her part in awe and part in disbelief, his eyes brimming with tears looking at his child opening her eyes that perfectly matched his for the first time.

A moment he’d never forget.

“Welcome to the world, baby Y/L/N Stark.” he whispered, bringing her over to you as more tears streamed down your face.

“We made her, Tony.” it felt like you could gaze at her forever, every little wiggle, every face twitch of hers left you awed.

“We did. I think it’s safe to say she’ll be getting her looks from her father.”

Typical Stark.

[bella-rose29]

Arranged Marriages - Epilogue

As promised :)

Also two parts in one day? Look at me go

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, a very tiny mention of death (Dominik), but other than that this is pure fluff and love (although I'm realising as I write it that the beginning does not give that impression lol)

Tag list: @kentucky-criedfricken, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @kateswone, @simbaaas-stuff, @polli05927, @historianthesecond, @ell0ra-br3kk3r

(Look at how pretty he is I love him)

"NIKOLAI LANTSOV, WHERE ARE YOU?"

He was hiding in a cupboard, trying not to give away his location.

Genya was mad at him, and he was fearing for his life right now. Although it was hardly his fault, since he and Y/N had both made the decision to wait to share the news, but the Tailor wasn't mad at his wife, which Nikolai thought was incredibly unfair. Bright light suddenly appeared, forcing him to shut his eyes, squinting against the sun now streaming in through the open door.

Shit.

"Found you, you little fucker," she grinned, although her smile was more reminiscent of a shark than anything else. David stood awkwardly behind her, and Nikolai guessed that he'd been dragged around by his wife in her quest for vengeance.

"How, in the name of all the Saints, could you not tell me that Y/N is pregnant?! Do you have any idea how long I'm going to need to plan the events?! To decide on every detail?! By the time I'm ready for a baby shower, your child will be thirty years old!" With each emphasised word, she whacked him in the chest, and when she was done Nikolai pressed a hand to the spot, rubbing over where he was sure a bruise would form.

"We decided we would wait until we were sure! Figured it would be worse if we got everybody's hopes up only for it to end up not happening! Please stop hitting me!" Genya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Fine! Fine, but I'm expecting to be in charge of everything, alright? And I want my name in there somehow."

"What if it's a boy?"

"Then use David's name." At the mention of his name, he looked up, bewildered look on his face. Seeing Genya's expression, he nodded in agreement (although Nikolai suspected that the man had very little idea what he was agreeing to).

"Of course, my love."

The doors to the room banged open as Zoya swept in, fury on her face.

Here we go again, he thought tiredly.

"She's pregnant?! Why did neither of you tell me?! I'm her best friend and your most trusted General! So why am I finding out from some random healer that you're expecting a baby?!"

"Would everybody please stop hitting me!" Zoya had been doing the same as Genya, and had managed to pinpoint the exact same spot when she smacked him. He sighed. "Look. We're both very sorry that we didn't tell you sooner, but as I said to Genya, we didn't want to get anybody's hopes up. We wanted to be sure about it first, and then tell people. Besides, we also wanted a little time just to ourselves; you know what people are like here, once they find something like this out, the baby isn't really ours, it's Ravka's."

The women paused, sharing a glance.

"Ugh, fine," Zoya said. "Where is she then, I want to go congratulate her and wish her luck on having two children to deal with."

"But she's only going to have one?"

When Zoya gave him a pointed look, he realised what she meant.

"You mean me, don't you? I'm... I'm the other child. Great, thank you for that, Zoya. Don't you have an army to run instead of making fun of me?"

"Don't you have a country to lead, instead of hiding in a cupboard?"

"She's in the gardens, and I'm not hiding in a cupboard. I am inspecting the interior to see how it was made. I'm planning on trying to make one for myself."

She snorted, turning on her heel and exiting the room. "Whatever you say, Lantsov."

"Well I need to start preparations immediately, and if you don't have a busy schedule - which I know you don't, I checked it before I came to find you - you're going to join me," Genya said, and Nikolai groaned.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." The was no room for argument in her tone, and quite frankly Nikolai was scared of her right now.

"Alright... lead the way."

She squealed, taking his arm and dragging him out of the cupboard and into the corridor, her grip so tight he thought he might end up one limb fewer. They stopped in Genya's living room, and she forced him down onto a seat while she moved around, collecting various items and bits of paperwork. David perched on a stool next to him, and they shared a knowing look.

"Congratulations, Nikolai," he said in a quiet voice, small smile on his face.

"Thank you, David." They sat in comfortable silence, watching as Genya rushed around, arms full to such an extent Nikolai wasn't sure how she wasn't dropping anything. Dumping it all on the table in front of them, she started organising, and Nikolai realised with a start that Genya had already made mood boards and drawn up ideas for a royal baby, complete with names of specialist Fabrikators (David's name was at the top of the list, circled with love hearts in red ink) for any essentials, fabric samples for clothes and bedsheets, and a colour scheme for every baby related event one could think of.

Nikolai settled in for a long discussion.

He was right that it would take them all day, and the next, and then the following week, since Genya insisted on going over every detail at least three times ("I just want to be certain, this is the first royal baby Ravka's had for years!"), and it was difficult finding a time when both the King and Queen were free. Zoya was getting very involved in the process too, which surprised Nikolai. He'd always assumed that the general would prefer to be as far away from children as possible, but when he saw how attentive she was being to Y/N, he realised that she was concerned for her friend. The two of them were like sisters, having been practically raised together, so it made sense that Zoya wanted to be there for Y/N.

The night before the first of many events that Genya had planned, he and his wife were curled up in bed, lights dimmed ready for them to go to sleep. He was stroking a hand through her hair, fingers untangling knots as he went.

"I love you, Nik," she whispered from her position against his chest.

"I love you too, Y/N."

They were quiet for a while, revelling in the peace.

"Do you think that Genya's gone a bit mad with the whole royal baby thing?" He laughed softly, nodding his head.

"It's entirely possible. Although I have to say, I think two events a week until the baby arrives is far too few, it should be one every night."

"Shhh! She'll hear you!" He laughed again, more loudly this time, and she joined in, giggling.

"Kolya?"

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed, a smile still playing on his lips.

"What should we name it?"

"You decide, my love. You are the one growing our baby," he said. "Although if I think it's a truly awful name, I might have to step in."

She was silent, fingertips tracing patterns on his stomach.

"For a girl... actually, I've got a feeling it'll be a boy."

"What if it is a girl though?"

"Nope. Boy. Saints help me though, I hope he's not too much like you."

"Why do people keep saying that?! I'm perfectly mature and not at all childlike!"

"Says the man that got excited when he saw a ship the other day."

"That wasn't just a ship, alright? It was an original design brigantine from when Ravka first started making ships, and- oh. Oh hang on, I see what you're doing. You're trying to prove your point, aren't you?"

"Not just trying, Kolya, I succeeded," she replied with glee, tapping his nose with a wide smile on her face.

"I see how it is." He narrowed his eyes playfully, then reached out to tickle her sides, making her laugh until tears were falling down her cheeks.

"Stop it!" she wheezed out between laughs.

"Do you forfeit?"

"Never! I will never for-" she broke off with another peal of laughter, even though he was barely touching her sides anymore. He'd sat up to get a better advantage, but now he took her in, laughing and happy, and his heart swelled with love for her and the family they were going to build.

"Alright, fine," he threw his hands up. "I surrender, you were right."

"Ha ha!" she pointed a triumphant finger at him. "I knew you'd come to your senses at some point." He took her accusatory finger in his hand, kissing the palm. She blushed a faint pink, and he loved how easily he could make it happen, even after almost two years of marriage.

"I think I lose my senses when I'm around you, darling."

They kissed, soft and gentle, and stayed wrapped up in each other for a while.

"Dominik." She whispered later, when the lights had gone out.

"What?" At the sound of his friend's name, Nikolai froze, and unbidden memories of their times together came back, accompanied by the unfortunate reminder that his best friend was dead.

"If... for the baby. Dominik for a boy."

He blinked back the tears, wiping away the stray ones that escaped and letting out a shaky breath.

"Kolya? Is... is it okay?"

Another breath.

"It's perfect."

[uhohbestie]

[Spoilers] Gosh.. I was a bit late to the chapters because of school and helping my friend read(she thought Tilly was a person and not a dog and read the same part for twenty minutes to understand it) but I just caught up and I don’t know what to say- the newest chapter just broke me and UGH!!! JOELLL!! I don’t know what to do. I need to know what happens to him. Also the end!!! Scar and Grian going over everything they’ve done and the people they’ve saw!! I can’t- I cried- I’m not ready for this fic to be over. I seriously Don’t know what I’ll do with myself after it’s over. All I can think about is this fic and how good it is and just ahhh!!!!! I love scar and Grian so much in this and I can’t stop thinking about how many thirdlife references are there. Also Grian is still hungry so I can’t help but think he’ll eat scar just like he killed scar in thirdlife- I loved this chapter and it’s really making me cry. I’m happy they finally are together though. I now want five more fics and a movie/jk

Anyway! I’m happy I got to be here to accompany on the long journey and I can’t wait to read the last one. Like I said before I’ll always be here to see what you guys make next and I’ll be excited for it. I’ll go make art now or just think about TAMN if no zombies and Grian no cheat cause I need a bit of happiness before the epilogue.

We're so glad you liked the new chapter! :D >:D It was one we had a lot of fun writing, and were so excited (and nervous) to finally post, so we're both really glad it's been enjoyed (and made people cry)!

Admittedly we've both been going through own emotional roller coaster when it comes to being this close to the end of TAMN, but it means a lot to hear that people are excited for whatever will come next! :') Working on TAMN and sharing it has been a big part of our day-to-day for soooo long, and I know it'll feel weird not to have updates to queue and post every week. That being said! We have a LOT more planned for TAMN, and the story itself is far from over! So while it is the end of this fic, think of it as a break between seasons, rather than the ultimate finale forever, and hopefully that can soften the hurt for the time being! (And of course we'll both still be here, actively making things and posting!)

As sad as I am to say goodbye to TAMN, I am really really happy that we finished it, and excited for all the things we get to dive into next! >:D <3 -🔒

[tynearshot]

As I wrap up my Farmer Sai + Sebastian FanComics…

I may eventually, but there is some art I want to redraw from my year 1 Zine. I know it’s kinda artistically sacrilegious, but ugh they deserve a little more care now that I have the characters a bit more solidified. Maybe someday but NOT ANYTIME SOON WHEW.

I still have to put year two together and THEN write the wedding epilogue. Then I’ll need to put this on a huge huge HUGE hiatus, and be content imagining and just doodling while I play the game.

These two are just so fun and special to me, just as stardew valley is as a whole.

I’ll have sweet moments down the line. Show their children, some challenges and wins from being in a long term partnership. But their wedding will end the saga as a whole (plus a naughty honeymoon comic after). It’s funny that’s my first time writing that a loud, and it’s bitter sweet.

I’m so thankful to this series, it’s taught about writing, drafting, and just shown me the potential I truly have to write long form stories! This series has made me so optimistic about my artistic potential, I still have a lifetime of stories to tell, and I’m so glad to tell this one, even if it is “just” farming sim fanfic.

The future of my practice as an artist and storyteller look bright, and it’s in huge part thanks to the joy writing this story has brought me.

[dgcatanisiri]

I think I wouldn't be so... "*ugh* Solas" in the overall scheme of things if I didn't feel like his portrayal is part of the narrative problem in Inquisition - that game centers so much of the TWIST of revealing that he is actually the big villainous figure of Inquisition, to the point that the epilogue DLC of Trespasser ended up feeling more like the missing third act BECAUSE it gave us a chance to respond to this reveal.

It meant that the main antagonist we deal with for the whole game ended up being a red herring - when the game itself barely ended up doing very little with that character as a result. Corypheus, despite his own potential for narrative focus, ended up being played more like just a cypher, there just to keep our attention, rather than explore him as the antagonist, because he's got to be the distraction from the wolf in our midst.

And that not just damages the potential of Corypheus as a villain, it also does the lore he carried with him a disservice, on top of the honestly compelling story he had - a man, driven and corrupted in his search for power, now compelled to take the seat of godhood because he has seen it to be empty, that he sees the world in need of that guiding divine hand, and, if there isn't one, he will take that. It's particularly engaging with the idea of the Inquisitor being able to stand as his opposite, at that final battle, and declare "I don't believe in gods!"

It tied in with the supposed themes that were supposed to be explored in Inquisition, of belief and faith, and the examination of the questions of religion... The themes that honestly failed to fully pull together in Inquisition, and do the overall game a disservice as a result. So this storyline that I honestly had a great deal of interest in seeing explored is the narrative sacrificial lamb in order to reveal the shocking swerve of Solas, the enemy in our midst.

Like I can see how Solas is interesting, but the way that Inquisition was put together, I found the red herring more compelling than the ACTUAL reveal, and so as a result, he doesn't hold my attention. He stands in for a number of decisions I disliked in Inquisition, and so he's been the absolute least interesting thing of the franchise to me as a result - At the least, I would have rather had storylines wrapped up BEFORE moving on to him, rather than have him functionally hijack the writing to and sidestep all those ideas to go "but now, here's this other thing to focus on!"

[callmearcturus]

the au everyone but me is sick of

so while i was super depressed and sad, i did the Extremely Predictable and wrote more fallout AU to comfort myself. someone left a comment suggesting i write out the full epilogue so I started doing that just to ensure I was writing SOMETHING.

i have no idea if I will finish, so here is what I have so far for your amusement.

this will make literally no sense if you haven't read out here the good girls die.

Even now, Karkat had never learned how to be a morning person, and so assumed he was just never going to make that switch. Here in the late California summer, the mornings were blessedly cool and forgiving while his beloved nights were balmy until the moon was high in the sky. For comfort's sake alone, he should have adapted.

But no. Like clockwork, every morning found him here, sitting at the kitchen table with his eyes mostly shut, his head heavy on his neck in a way that let him doze for a while, yes, but also ensured he was going to get a knot lodged right at the top of his spine. This was the devil's bargain he took Monday to Friday, except for the Fridays where he decided the office could just open later, he didn't care.

"Are you conscious, ranger?" 

"No," Karkat said, managing to make one syllable into a vehicle conveying his ire.

"Poor baby," another voice said, and something was set down in front of Karkat. He blurrily opened his eyes and looked at the plate. A nice little pile of roti with a generous scoop of chutney. 

Karkat smiled to himself at the sight. He'd missed his father's breakfast as soon as he left home some ten years ago. Getting to have it again as Dave picked up on a few recipes was heartwarming in a way that threatened to cause a brush fire in his chest.

Tearing one roti, he dabbed it through the chutney. "The lemons came in?"

"They're, like, almost oranges? I dunno, your dad says citrus crossbreeds a bunch." Dave knuckled his hip and looked across the kitchen at Rose.

She shook her head silently; Rose didn't eat breakfast most days. Apparently that was the default for her, divorced from her life in the Mojave where everyone ate whenever they could, unsure of when their next meal would be. "The free lovers of the produce world," she offered in bemusement.

"Ugh," Dave said, nose wrinkling.

"Contain your prudishness."

"M'not a prude, I just don't want to think 'bout the orchard orgies this early, it's perfectly fuckin' reasonable." He held out a spoon to her. "Will you just try this, it's the first one pops let me do on my own without hoverin'."

"It's good," Karkat confirmed as he ate.

"Your constant need for approval is truly your greatest failing," Rose told him sternly as she bent to taste the chutney. Dave tried to swat her; she dodged nimbly. "Don't, I just did my hair." Swallowing, she gave him one brisk, prescribed nod. "Tart. Anise?"

"Yeah, I don't dig anise, but baba fucking insists on it."

"It's good," Karkat said again.

"What is his name?" Rose asked suddenly. 

"Who?" Dave picked up a roti for himself and spooned in some chutney, rolling it like a little burrito.

"The elder Vantas."

"Dunno. At this point, I'm playin' the long game, seeing if I can go the my entire life without knowing."

Rose crossed her arms and looked at Karkat, eyebrow lifted.

Shrugging, Karkat chewed slowly and offered no answer.

"Fine, please yourself," Rose said. She always referred to Karkat's father with dignified appellations, Father Vantas and Monsieur Vantas and such. Karkat was pretty sure her mouth refused to form diminutive sounds like *baba.* It was fun to watch her verbally dodge each one while Dave tacked more on.

He wasn't about to spoil that for them.

"You have an appointment with the teacher's union in an hour," Rose announced. "When you have sated yourself, let's be off, councilor."

"And who's your meetin' with?" Dave asked sunnily.

"What could you mean, brother-mine, I'm just the secretary." She opened the fridge and took out a nuka. Cracking the top of with a precise strike against the counter, she took a swig. "Hurry up, Karkat."

If working with the military had taught Karkat anything, it was how to march.

=

As of the last regional election, Karkat worked out of the council house. Vineyard wasn't such a political foothold in the Republic that it had been contentious, and there were enough other former military people peeled off the Navarro base that Karkat's commendation had actually meant something.

It hadn't been how Karkat intended to spend his retirement, but also Rose was right; he was civic-minded and liable to go fucking stir-crazy if he didn't have something to do. So in the end, he let the whole thing happen.

And here he was, his schedule peppered liberally with meetings, trying to figure out how to not piss off too many people, and to really piss off very specific people.

But on some level, he never stopped being a ranger and probably never would.

The representative of the teacher's union talked about their back order of textbooks from the closest press, how they'd put in the order two years ago and there was still nothing to show for it. It wasn't fair that children around Shady Sands had whatever materials they wanted while anyone even slightly off the highway had to make do.

Karkat asked what kind of books they needed, and took notes.

"Are we going somewhere," Rose asked when she caught Karkat in the living room with a map on the table.

"Another errand," Karkat muttered, walking his fingers from Vineyard to the spot on the map he needed. "You two can stay, it'll only be a few days."

"What sob story tugged at your overflowing bouquet of heartstrings this time?"

"School needs more books. Press is taking its sweet fucking time and kids are having to share texts."

"Sounds like the work of a strongly worded letter to the capital."

"Already sent one. Now it sounds like I can cut out the middle man and just hit this old vault for what they have."

"You hate vaults," Dave said from down the hall. "Why are we talkin' about vaults?"

"It's not really a vault," Karkat said. "Old Brotherhood bunker, remnants from a chapter that folded some fifty years back. All the tech got claimed by the Followers, but they'll let me have extra books for if its for education."

"And this something that must fall squarely on your own shoulders?" Rose asked, dropping herself into the armchair as she observed Karkat's manual cartography. As she did, Dave wandered in, his hair curling around the nape of his neck, damp from a shower, walking around barefoot with a towel around his hips.

"It's just…" Karkat frowned at them. "I know where to go, who to talk to, what to say. Why would I rope in some daytripper who doesn't know their ass from their elbow when I can just do it myself, the point is eliminating the middleman. I'm not going to add in another middleman for kicks."

Rose sighed loudly, leaning her cheek on her hand, as if Karkat was being disappointing in a predictable way. 

"You're staying here, I don't know what your issue is," Karkat said. "If I didn't know better, and I fucking do, I'd say you were concerned and were going to miss me."

"Luckily we do know better," Rose said dryly. "No, but Dave will, and I will have to deal with his longing looks and whimpering in your absence."

"Oh, fuck you," Dave said, turning right back around and leaving the room. "Bye, California, try not to step on a deathclaw's foot while you're out."

Pointing over her shoulder, Rose said, "See? He'll be like that the entire time you're away, and I will have to deal with it."

"Shut up, Rose," Dave called down the hall.

"I'm not even leaving yet, can you both relax," Karkat said with a sigh.

"Do try not to abandon us for too long," Rose said.

=

He didn't mean to abandon the twins for very long at all. The trip down southeast to the Follower operation was a two-book journey at most.

Karkat tended to estimate his time in that way. When he first was stationed in the Mojave, he got stopped at the Outpost. A security officer had gone through his stuff because generally speaking new people were only supposed to have one gear bag and Ranger Cancer had two.

"Is this thing just books," the officer had asked after awkwardly shifting the books around without removing them from the bag. They were very precisely arranged and stacked inside to maximize space, and the officer didn't seem like she wanted to fuck up the careful engineering.

"I'm on a two year tour," Karkat had said.

"This bag probably weighs more than a bodybag."

"Yeah." Karkat had already had this argument with his superiors back east. If Karkat was willing to carry the fucking thing, he could do what he wanted. However, if he dropped dead of exhaustion from carrying an extra bag through a goddamn desert, they'd leave him behind and write his cause of death as Stupidity.

Karkat hadn't dropped dead, and he'd read through his entire bag during his tour. He'd even given some books out to First Recon as gifts; he knew sniper work was a whole lot of waiting around in boring places.

But now, in California, Karkat took two books with him. They were perfect for passing time before nightfall; the perfect barometer of when he needed to get moving was the necessary light level for reading a yellowed Old World novel. As soon as he started to squint at the words, it was time to go.

Walking through California was different than the desolate quiet of the Mojave. Back in Vegas, Karkat had walked with his rifle in hand. The sight of anyone or anything moving on the horizon was a possible threat; raiders, mutated animals, motherfucking cazadors.

And there was still danger in California, but things were less…. ornery, as Dave would say. People were less willing to tempt death by ambushing a guy in ranger gear.

At Olompali, Karkat checked into an cabin. After cleaning up, he deliberated exactly how he wanted to handle this one. The Followers of the Apocalypse were not fans of the New California Republic, but generally they respected the rangers as a self-managing volunteer group. If the Followers believed in anything, it was anarchic altruism.

Karkat left his helmet and his mantle, keeping his armor light, with his patch on his shoulder. After more deliberation, he left his service pistol and kept his rifle on his back, hoping that would be a sign he was here to be useful but not a threat.

Rose was mortifyingly right about him, Karkat thought with a scowl. The careful picking and choosing of himself to make sure he got the reaction he wanted, it was all very political of him. Thank fuck she wasn't around to see it, to needle him and ask him to explain his precise choices.

Sighing, Karkat went to the old bunker.

The whole ordeal was familiar; the Followers were very sympathetic to Karkat's plight and were openly interested in providing assistance to educational efforts. And what a coincidence, they did have most of the hoarded library the Brotherhood had collected.

But there were just a few things they'd appreciate help with, if Karkat had some time. After all, he did bring a rifle.

Karkat liked the Followers but for fuck's sake, this wasn't his job anymore.

Dave and Rose:

Made it to the Followers safely. Stuck with their honey-do list before they'll give up the books. Will be a little longer than expected. Please remember to actually go shopping and pick up food so you don't starve.

Love you, see you as soon as I can.

California

For ten minutes, Karkat deliberated on the sign off. He'd been witness so many times to the particular distaste the twins had to outright shows of affection and emotional statements.

But it was a letter and he wouldn't be there when they got it, and thus would dodge all of their sarcasm and irritated hissing.

Sealing the letter, he found a courier on the way to Navarro and asked him to detour to Vineyard.

With that handled, Karkat geared up and stormed out on the trail of the raiders the Followers wanted to disappear.

=

The little venture out to the Followers took a few weeks, which was both longer than Karkat intended and shorter than he feared.

These things usually wound up being worth it in his experience. There were times when he showed up in the name of the NCR, carrying some kind of orders from on high, and knew the way people bristled at him, at the way that kind of control chafed against them.

He also knew if he showed up and did shit like this, crossing out items from the honey-do list with blood and dust under his nails, he'd usually luck into a more longterm relationship. People who actually did shit were the truest currency of the New World, more than caps and dollars.

So with a lingering sense of satisfaction, Karkat talked to the doctor running the outpost and verified there would be a caravanner up to Vineyard soon with all the books a brahmin could haul. And just as a bonus, they'd send one of their own instructors along to give a few lectures on science and medicine.

Perfect. With that promise secured, Karkat put his back to the camp and headed home.

By now, he'd traded his books for new ones. He barely read them, eager to get home and traveling straight through one night and into the next day.

Karkat enjoyed being a ranger, but he also enjoyed being home. Having a home still carried its own novelty bias.

With the accelerated pace, Karkat had the good fortune to return to Vineyard at night. As he walked through the streets, one watchmen wandered his way, suitably concerned about someone in full armor with a rifle just out and about in the city.

Karkat waved to him, and got a thumbs up. Just the local ranger, nothing to see here.

Well, ex-ranger.

Arriving home quiet as he could, Karkat divested of his gear in the living room. It was much easier to walk quietly without the extra tonnage weighing him down, less of a risk of waking the twins when the house was dark and quiet like this.

Drinking a full glass of water and washing up briefly, Karkat wandered down the hallway. Checking the double bedroom, he found both beds empty.

Frowning silently, Karkat walked over to his own bedroom, and nudged the door open further. To his relief, someone was sleeping there. The covers were pulled up high enough that he could only see the curve of an ear and some cornsilk white hair, so saying definitively who was impossible.

He could hazard a guess and slipped inside.

When he finally put a knee on the bed, there was a sleepy mumble from under the blankets, but nothing else. Which felt a bit like dousing the warmth in Karkat's heart with moonshine. He was prepared for the usual consequence of disturbing the sleep of a New Vegas citizen, the flash of a knife, the viper's strike. But all he got was a muffled slur of consonants that might've been Rose's name with a question mark attached.

Moving over Dave, Karkat dropped himself down behind, his body fitting into the space under the windowsill, back against the wall. He couldn't help the deep sigh loosened from him at the feeling of finally being off his feet.

For a few moments, he assumed that was that, and it was time to sleep. He certainly could just fall the fuck asleep now, the weeks of work and travel coming up from behind him to smother him into slumber.

Then, Dave shifted, and the back of his hand thumped against Karkat's chest, turning to let his fingers coast over his clavicle. "Not Rose," he muttered, turning more and opening his eyes, pale little wet crescents in the dark. "Look what blew in with the tumbleweeds."

Karkat closed his hand around Dave's, pulling it up to press his lips against the knuckles. "Hey."

"Been a while." His fingertips touched Karkat's jaw. "Mammillaria."

What? "What?"

"They don't got razors in the F-O-T-A?" There was a huff of laughter. "You are so prickly."

"Was kind of busy doing their goddamn busywork," Karkat grumbled. "Didn't have time between the raiders and setting up gecko traps and investigating their water filter theft thing."

"Fuckin' itinerant do-gooder." Dave pressed his thumb against Karkat's scratchy jaw, eyes shutting again.

"Shit got done." Karkat was perfectly fine with the little touches, the point of connection stretching across the gap between them, a soft landing after so much time away. "Where's Rose?"

Dave sounded drowsily amused. "Prob'ly shouldn't tell you."

"Why?"

"Think she's, uh. Having a sleepover with the hospitality guild. Talking about… plans."

Karkat's eyes popped open as he considered that. Rose out for a clandestine 2AM meeting with the local sex workers. Which, he would probably be supportive of whatever the fuck that was about, but also he needed some plausible deniability. Karkat was a terrible fucking liar. "Yeah, don't tell me that."

"Sorry, councilor," Dave chuckled. His fingers were still skating idly around. A little considering noise escaped his mouth.

"What's wrong?"

There was enough of a pause that when Dave said, "Nuthin'," Karkat knew he was lying. Squinting at him in the dark, Karkat watched Dave press his head further into the pillow. "You know how the dust out there can make someone's skin all shiny? You're rockin' that look pretty nicely, California."

He did know it pretty well, how there was that grace period between fresh-washed to grime where it was almost like every speck of dust caught some ephemeral light and shone, making someone look like they were carved by some lost Old World master. Many times, Karkat had seen that sheen over Dave's skin and had stared for way too long, wanting to touch but certain he'd smudge it, ruin it.

Also, that was back when touching Dave was less of an inevitability.

Closing his eyes and soaking up the attention, Karkat hummed quietly.  Curling his hand around Dave's arm, he thought he could definitely sleep like this. It had the possibility of being the best sleep of his life.

"Are you for real tired?" Dave asked. "You, mister sun hater? Mister night tripper?"

"I've been traveling for almost two days straight," Karkat pointed out mulishly. "I wanted to get back to you."

"Oh. Well." Dave blew out a breath, and sounded almost a little disappointed, which made Karkat squint at him. "If you are going to conk out then you at least gotta give me somethin'."

Bracing with his elbow, Dave slid in closer to Karkat and kissed him, hands curling around his neck, thumbs stroking Karkat's cheeks.

[kissporsche]

Okay, last one, I promise - and no need to answer ANY of these, obviously. I'm just in the mood to be annoying today. 🙈💕

Top 5 KinnPorsche scenes - WITH and WITHOUT VP (because I think the latter would be really interesting) 👀

BLESS YOU FOR THAT, YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL (and you are not annoying AT ALL 💕💕💕)

Top 5 VP scenes

Ep 12 hedgehog funeral + sex scene

I meeeeean. I mean. I mean!!!!!!! When is a monster not a monster? When you see him utterly broken sobbing over his dead pet and your catastrophic empathy instinct kicks in because you see yourself in him and him in you and you KNOW this will backfire but need NEED to go back anyway and it NEEDS to be your choice and it KEEPS being your choice and kissing him is your choice and fucking him is your choice and offering up your wrists is your choice and you fucking SMILE because for once you got everything you wanted and for just a minute the whole world falls into its proper place.

Ep 13 break-up scene

My beloved. This is legit one of my favourite scenes in any piece of media, ever. It enraptures me. It's every terrible, beautiful, instinctual decision that they've made together being CRUSHED by the world outside their safehouse/prison/escape/condemnation and exploding in their faces. It is everything to me. It's inevitable. And so necessary even though it hurts like hell.

Ep 13 alleyway scene

THE DRAMA. Vegas with his prince hair pulling his One Move. Pete with the cigarette and the realisation and the gun. They both look so insanely good sorry for being shallow. But GOD. "Don't you want me to disappear?" "Shoot me!" "I don't think you can. And you know why." like ugh UGH it's the PEAK of fucked up romance! Vegas risking it all on Pete feeling the same and not caring if he loses his life on that bet, Pete unable to even speak in response but just breaking down in Vegas's arms because he can't and he knows.

Ep 14 pool scene

Okay now obviously this one is also everything to me. It's... yeah. This scene was to my brain what a magnet is to a VHS tape. I lost the ability to form coherent thoughts for multiple days. I still can't adequately express everything this scene means to me. It's a masterclass in writing and character work and ACTING!!!! Like with anyone else this scene could have failed massively but instead we got CINEMA. My favourite, most unhinged viewing experience of my entire life. Maybe if I loved it less I might be able to talk about it more.

Ep 14 epilogue

THE SOFT EPILOGUE THEY DESERVE. Their lives have beaten them down into the dirt, they've nearly lost their humanity entirely, they barely know how to be people and yet. They find each other. They choose each other. They live for each other. And they get happiness as a reward, and a family they will keep choosing again and again and again.

I could have picked so many other scenes, literally any of their scenes! But 12-14 really is just hit after hit of some of the best television ever created so. holy shit there's a whole other half to this ask OOPS- Top 5 KP scenes (no VP)

Ep 1 Porsche and Chay

Porsche wiping his tears away and hugging his little brother is what sold me on his character and really the entire show.

Ep 5 Porsche breaking down in the bathroom

Talk about a masterclass in acting. Phenomenal.

Ep 6 final scene

All the lead up too. Kinn apologising, Porsche deliberately failing rock paper scissors, Kinn's speech when they escape, Porsche running back to kiss him. GORGEOUS.

Ep 10 warehouse scene

Oh I live for gloves-off Vegas. And the horriblest little man Tawan. Sleeveless Kim. Big's sacrifice.

Ep 14 office scene

I'm being soooo good and not counting this as a VP scene but like. Oh I love it. Namphueng reveal, "you're just as bad as papa was", "the truth that Namphueng is-", Vegas surrounded by a halo of guns, Korn at his most menacing, "I can't keep betraying my feelings", the look between Porsche and Pete, I-. I love it. There's just so much to keep coming back to.

[djarins-cyare]

Get to Know Me (tag game)

Thanks @burntheedges and @sydneyinacoma for the tags! 💖

I guess I don’t post much about myself on here, so behold the mystery of Jyar’ika revealed under the cut (because I waffle and didn't wanna take up y’all’s dashes)…

Ahh space to include GIFs (*is happy*)...

1. Were you named after anyone? Hmm, that’s a sneaky way to get a name reveal outta me. Alright, I don’t mind… apparently one of the hosts on Blue Peter (the longest-running children’s TV show in the world - you’re not getting an age reveal outta me too!) had a baby just before I was born. Why my parents were watching a children’s TV show I have no idea, but this host evidently wrote/sang some kinda song on air about calling her baby daughter Jemma with a J not Gemma with a G. So I was named after a terribly trite and obscure TV reference that nobody will ever remember. You may call me Jem if you wish, my friends all do, and if you’re bothering to read this then you’re in that category.

(If you're wondering about the GIF, the show was always broadcast live and they had several pets. The outtakes are numerous.)

2. When was the last time you cried? I think I’m weird… I don’t tend to cry? Or only if I’m really really upset. Maybe I’m Cameron Diaz in The Holiday? So yeah, I can’t actually remember 🤔.

3. Do you have kids? Nope, although it’s a fairly recent decision to not have them. I spent much of my life assuming I wanted kids until I realised I had been conditioned by society to think I did. Since I started considering what I genuinely want and need in my life, I’ve never been happier! I'd make an exception to adopt a certain little green guy, though.

4. What sports do you play/have played? Ugh, I hate questions like this. Nope, I’m a lazy asshole and now you all know it 🫣. I mean, I activity-hopped throughout my school years (gymnastics, karate, soccer), but these days I live in front of a computer. My exercise is lugging 24 bottles of water up 4 flights of stairs twice a week.

5. Do you use sarcasm? I’m British. Sarcasm is my mother tongue.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I’m the least observant person ever! So voices a lot of the time, I think. Pretty sure that’s why something clicked inside me as soon as Din Djarin spoke his first on-screen words.

7. What’s your eye color? Depends on the light, but somewhere between dark blue and grey.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? I’m an absolute wuss when it comes to scary movies, so I don’t put myself through that. Also, the literature student in me desperately wants to point out that these things are not mutually exclusive, as you can have scary movies with happy endings, so a more appropriate ‘either/or’ scenario would be tragedies or happy endings. But either way, I will say no to the former and yes to the latter. I dislike making myself feel scared or sad – I consume fiction (in all formats) to feel good, so I’ll always look for the positive. I’m currently experimenting to see if I can write a massively angsty fic, and it was supposed to be done by the New Year, but I’m struggling. I will also have to include one of those open-ended ‘maybe it could work out after all’ epilogues. I just can’t leave my characters in pain.

9. Any talents? Not sure what constitutes a talent… I can sing, play guitar, write a longass Din Djarin fanfic that people seem quite keen on, uh… cook, I guess (though I rarely bother), understand quite a few languages (less proficient at speaking them). I’m sort of a jack of all trades, master of none. I would say I have a talent for procrastination – I can complete a whole workday and get barely anything of substance done!

10. Where were you born? In a village outside a town in Surrey, England. It's only about 30 miles from London. Lots of trees. Very dull. I left as soon as I could.

11. What are your hobbies? Writing is my main obsession, specifically Din Djarin-related, of course. Also reading (same genre). Throughout my entire life I’ve enjoyed stories in all formats – reading, writing, watching, listening, proofreading the fuck out of them – so if it’s a good yarn, I’ll have a good time.

12. Do you have any pets? Not currently, my landlord won’t allow it. I used to own 3 rats who were the most adorable boys and so smart – they knew their names, responded to commands, liked to snuggle. When I can finally buy my own place I’ll probably get a dog, as I like pets that listen to you, even if only sporadically. I had a very non-communicative chameleon once. He was called Minion. He was not a good minion.

13. How tall are you? 5’4. Not tiny, but sometimes I have to go up on my tippytoes to reach stuff.

14. Favorite subject in school? English literature (see hobbies question above). When I got to university and enrolled on an English lit/lang degree, I tried to take as many literature courses and avoid the language ones. It wasn’t until years after graduating when I started proofing/editing and writing more seriously that I developed a respect for all the mandatory language courses I had to do. I also liked media studies and film studies; you can guess why. Psychology was interesting too, it’s good to understand human nature if you want to write realistic characters.

15. Dream job? I wish I could write novels for a living. It’s a goal as well as a dream. I know a couple of authors who’ve self-published via Kindle Direct Publishing (I proofread/edited for one of them), and they were successful enough to turn that into their careers. They keep encouraging me to try, although I’m currently in my ‘obsessed with Din Djarin so just writing fanfic to develop my authorial voice’ era. When my obsession wanes, as obsessions inevitably do, I’ll hopefully feel ready to write something original and take my shot. But I’m not pressuring myself, and right now I’m happy attempting to entertain the Mandalorian fan community. I feel safe here 💖

Now I know I’m supposed to tag people since that’s the point of a tag game… but I’m that autistic kid in the corner who is too shy and worried about tagging people who might not reply. So I’m foregoing tags today. But, if you’ve bothered to read this and you haven't already played: TAG YOU’RE IT! That’s me tagging you, please take it seriously and thank me for your tag in your own post (I will be genuinely thrilled if anybody does this, and I’m sending advance love to anyone who does – you don’t know how much it means to someone autistic to have the decision-making element dealt with for them). So go on, now it’s your turn!

[superblysubpar]

Jesus, Taylor… I need a warning two days before, at least, to reread it from part one. Or… forget it, I will do it now. Anyway, so fucking excited!!! (living in denial that it's not the end, I'm delulu) I already thanked you for that beautiful story, but once again - that's a masterpiece, THANK YOU for sharing that with us. Kisses, M. 💖💖💖

Ugh, I really wouldn't be finishing it without people like you Mary who remind me to finish it for you guys and give you all the ending I hope you like! Thank you for always leaving the love and encouraging me! It means more to me than I can let any of you know! 💛

hahaha it's not like posting tomorrow or anything, I promise. I was just excited and sharing that I was writing and like it's actually ending and wrapping up nicely how I wanted it to after my lovely friends got me out of my head.

Promise I'll give a warning!

But um...

Now...

Might be a good time...

To tell you all...

it's not just one more chapter and the epilogue but two chapters and the epilogue but they're all gonna post at the same time eventually okay bye

[rollercoasterwords]

oh!!!! happy 100k words wfrau!!!!!!! she's getting bigger (<- like you would speak of a puppy). how long is it supposed to be & how far along are you? and also... would you like to share a snippet you like (from any chapter ofc... no pressure if no it's completely understandable)? what do you enjoy the most about writing it? bc it seems like you're having fun & it's so nice to see someone enjoying a hobby so openly online... especially writing... there's this conception that writers don't actually enjoy writing (the whole 'forcing myself to write' bit) and i'm curious to hear your perspective on it!! also!!!!!! i hope moving will be easy & fun & the world will be kind to you with the change <3 i keep telling myself 2 read marx but i can't find any good translations to my native language and reading it in english is making my brain go grgrgrgrgr like an air conditioner on its last leg so alas it might have to wait... so true for liking iced drinks they're really the best!! i've heard someone say it's childish but i think they just live a very miserable hot life in the august heat drinking their hot coffee instead of putting some ice cubes in it :) it's funny you say that about fav line because it's definitely my fav fic of your writing & the ending of it is soooo beautiful i get back to it every time i need to feel something!!!!! that song line is beautiful too omg... and well the weather is hell everywhere at least the world is all suffering together :( i hope the atmosphere isn't suffering too much :/ honestly i am a big 'i would rather be hot than cold' believer because i am from a hot country so i know how to deal with the heat but you know what i'm sure the chill can also be intriguing to some... not me though... i hope the winter will be kind on you <3 thank u for letting me invade ur ask box i am creating myself a room here for now i think. anyway. love and hugs!!!! <333

hello!! she is indeed getting bigger <3 if i had to guess right now i'd say i'm maybe...possibly nearing the halfway point of the fic, plotwise? but honestly it's really hard to say lol. i've got 2 more story arcs to cover in part 3 (plus finishing the current one), and then part 4 is gonna have like...2 or 3 story arcs as well, plus an epilogue. so it just depends on how long it takes me to cover all that ground!

and yeah i'm having a lot of fun writing!! i know what u mean abt the whole "ugh writing amirite" bit that writers do lol and i'm sure i do it sometimes too...i mean i think tone varies a lot and many people who complain about writing still really enjoy the activity, but i do think there is sometimes this self-flagellating tendency amongst some writers to act like writing is meant to be this strenuous, emotionally draining activity like ur...idk sisyphus w the stone or something, and if you're writing something 'easy' or 'fun' you're somehow a lower caliber of writer than those who Nobly Suffer for their art, etc...which i think is dumb lol. suffering doesn't inherently make art any better or more noble

& thank u 4 the well-wishes w moving!! i'm mostly nervous about getting to my flight on time lol i have to go into work the literal day before i leave and then catch a train across the country at 5am the next morning 2 get 2 the airport...not going 2 be fun so i'll take all the well-wishes i can get !!

sorry 2 hear u can't find marx in ur native language :( it's hard enough 4 me 2 understand reading in my first language i cannot imagine trying 2 parse it in a second language...maybe it might be easier 2 find one of his (or engels') shorter texts 2 read? capital is a monster but i started off with a few shorter pieces ('socialism: utopian and scientific', 'principles of communism', 'wage labour and capital,' 'value price and profit') which i found helpful! also there are lots of secondary resources of other people breaking down + explaining marx's work; maybe there's a good source in your native language that could give a summary/overview of capital? there's no one right way 2 learn, it's just abt finding what works best for u!!

iced drink supremacy 4ever truly <3 me myself & i we can only enjoy a hot beverage if it's very cold outside...otherwise i am simply thinking well why would i do that 2 myself... & thank u!! happy 2 hear u like the lines!! v happy w them v proud <3 & also appreciate the well-wishes re: weather i cannot relate 2 the hot-weather preference i much prefer cold...or at least i used to i grew up in a relatively cold climate but then i moved south 4 university so at this point i'm going on 6 years of living in what is categorized as a "humid subtropical climate" & i think my winter tolerance has been all but destroyed it hardly ever drops below freezing...but hot&humid weather is still my least favorite i think i would prefer icy-cold winter + mild summer but i will be actually putting that theory 2 the test this year so!! who knows maybe my hubris will be my downfall...

& of course!! u are welcome 2 stop by + chat anytime...in my heart we are drinking iced beverages 2gether <3 also as requested here is a snippet from ch 14:

“Don’t,” he tells her, firmly, “Don’t say that. I don’t—want you involved. If they ever did anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” She stares at him, eyes ablaze. “And how do you think I feel? Knowing that they only pick on you because—” her voice falters, cracking, “Because you’re with me?” Her lip is trembling again, tears threatening to spill over from her eyes. Sirius shakes his head, helplessly, at a loss for what to do.

[ourdramaqueen]

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

I also received this from @writerrose1998 and @wincestation, but @suchaladyy was the first one. :) Sooo let's see... this will span several fandoms. In random order:

(You Get Me) Closer, LotR, Frodo/Éomer. This was the first fic I wrote (and completed) in ages. It's an unusual pairing, and the inspiration for it came, yes, from Nine Inch Nail's Closer. Which might seem very unusual, but oh, it actually works so well for those two! It's a sort of gap filler fic covering the time between the end of the War of the Ring until the Hobbits go back to the Shire (and an epilogue covering Frodo leaving for the Undying Lands), mixing movie with book canon. Lots of smut but also character development.

Line Without a Hook, The Boys, Butcher/Hughie. A no superpowers high school AU I cowrote with holyfudgemonkeys (eraticallyinspired). She wrote Hughie's POV, I wrote Butcher's. It was so much fun and much of the time we managed to write a scene/POV per day, which was crazy! (Usually there were several scenes per chapter.) And it all started because someone posted pictures of a ca. high school aged Karl Urban online!

Private Tutor, Wednesday, Wednesday/Tyler. Of course I have to include PT here! Not just because it has gotten by far the most feedback of any of my fics, but because I truly love Wednesday and Tyler in it, and how the story developed into so much more than the smut with a little character development on the side that I had originally planned!

Ugh, it's getting difficult now... Okay, let's go with Rough Sex, The Boys, Butcher/Hughie, which was a Kinktober 2021 fill and turned into the beginning of a series of gap filler mostly-canon-compliant (apart from this one, really) stories exploring Hughie's mental state and his unhealthy coping mechanisms. I really need to finish writing the latest part in the series covering the end of S2, which I was working on when Wednesday completely sidelined me.

Aaaaaaaaahh what can I pick as #5?! I have quite a few candidates... there are several more The Boys fics and also one I wrote for Almost Human, and then more Wednesday fics... ugh okay so let's go with The very cave you are afraid to enter turns out to be the source of what you are looking for, Wednesday, Wednesday/Tyler. It was the first Wednesday fic I really got to stretch my angst muscles in, and the first fic I wrote entirely from Tyler's POV. A birthday fic for @onlyangelxo. :) I'm not sending this to anyone because I'm sure everyone I could think of has already been sent this multiple times. 😆

[goldeneyedkim]

The WIP List - Aged WIPs

Okay, so irl is kind of... high stress at the moment, so let's see if I can just bury myself in some writing.

In particular, I'm starting to get super itchy about fics that I haven't finished and keep intending to. Going to start this as a way to kind of keep myself accountable for actually making progress on these things.

On this list:

After the Light - the Stony MCU/Old Guard crossover that was originally a oneshot, I probably should have left a oneshot, and really probably only need one chapter left to finish--just have to decide what to do it with.

The Real Monsters - the Naruto/CM crossover that I originally thought was going to be 5 chapters, and now I'm hoping to just finish in four. My friends all laugh at me when I say I hate Plot and Plot is a four-letter word? This fic is everything I mean about "I hate plot." It has an 8-year-old Naruto and Sasuke, so there is no romance to play off here, it's just actual plot, and fuck me, I hate this so much. Why did I do this to myself? This is a plotfic, and I know the end, but it's how to get there I'm fucking stuck on, and this one has a lot of people who have been very patient. I just want it done.

Boundless - EraserMight soulmate fic I started for-fucking-ever ago. It follows canon very closely, so I just really need to sit down and speed-watch the relevant parts, and just finish the last chapter where they decide that, yes, they want a romantic relationship with one another.

Prepared to Sacrifice - Ugh... this one has one or two chapters left, maybe, and I'm already 2k into the next one, it's just a very particular type of headspace to write, and I'm having trouble figuring out how to finish it off. I was going to write a sequel but that's almost certainly not going to happen, so the final chapter might just be the opening chapter of the sequel I wrote. It would work as an open-ended epilogue. So just need to finish the damn thing.

A Dragon Among the Ashes - a DekuBaku slavefic that I started for a big bang a while ago and... realized in the middle of writing it that I don't actually like BakuDeku enough to make them the center feature of anything more than a short fic. Like, I do ship them in the lowkey, background way that I kind of feel like "this is basically a good as canon" for a lot of things, and I include them as a background ship a lot, but... Shouto has become my blorbo, and if it's not focused around him, ugh, it's a struggle. I really just need to finish the last damn chapter.

Fireworks and Warnings probably belongs on this list. I probably need to just figure out an end and write it. It's been on hiatus for like 3 years. *sigh*

Basis for Human Hope - Gundam Wing omegaverse fic with 13x2 (yes, you read that right) and endgame 5x2. I need to see if I can remember how to write short stuff and see if I can crunch this one down. I'm, uh, just noticing how many hits that fic has (relative to most GW fic lately), and... yeah, should work on that next chapter.

On the Things Not Posted But I Really Should Work On:

Sequel to my EdRoy darkfic - dealing with the fallout of Ed being mated against his will, for public spectacle no less, and also being knocked up. If I could knock this out in 20k, I'd be delighted. I... uh, have no such faith it's going to be under 30k.

Sequel to my consensual bitching DekuTodo fic - This one has actually been started. I'm, like, over 2k into it (might be more), but uh, kind of missing the endgame here. Probably should just be Shouto having the baby (babies? I honestly don't remember what I was planning), so this should be relatively (I know, I know, don't laugh) short.

Firsts series - This is the high on the list to immediately finish. I started this idea way back when writing Stand Without Flinching. Since finishing the Stars That Have People Names mainfics, this is literally the last piece of the series I plan on writing, and I have had the worst time making myself work on it. I finally kicked my ass into gear last night, and got about 3.5k written on it, and two more of the 5 "firsts" written. That makes 3/6 done, three more to go, and 2 are smutty (which are usually easy, I just really was not in a mood to write smut last night). I really, really want to put this series to bed and mark it complete, so I think this is going to be the next one on the list.

All right--and of WIPs that are not on this list:

Surviving the Fire - weekly updates on this one, and I tend to be very good at keeping to a strict schedule. Next chapter of this hits today. Not a concern.

If You Have Been Brutally Broken - on a schedule, every other Wednesday, I also have at least a couple more chapters pre-written, so hopefully by the time I'm live writing this one, I'm done with Surviving. I love this fic, and I'm excited to force myself to finish it.

A Bun in a Hidden Oven - I basically have it finished. I can add another chapter; we'll see if I bother. No concern here.

When You're Married and No One Told You - this has always been open-ended, and I'll add to it if/when I get the inspo.

To Be Alpha - this is the BakuTodo alpha quirk fic. I have no damn idea where I'm going with it. I'd like to move it up to the WIP list but it's been sitting where it is for years b/c I'm stuck and I disclaimed that when I posted it.

Beware of Alphas - NaruSasu omegaverse. I love the idea of this world (where alphas are locked out of society), but mostly going to see if I find fun prompts to keep it going. Low pressure, as inpso hits.

Okay, now that I've wasted time typing all that up--let's go write. Surviving is due today, so it gets first priority. We'll see what else I get done after that.

[gothamcityneedsme]

hi! just wanted to say that i binged all the available installments of time displacements this fine afternoon and just!!! it's SO good. I'm screaming. I love whatever dirk and hal have going on. I love dave so much. Karkat/pos. I'm so excited to see B side dave. just!!!!!! amazing. thank you so much i'm going to think about them all year now MHSDFGSHDF WOOOOOO !!!!! i think this fic is better canon than whatever hs^2 was trying to do and its supplemented my idea of post canon its SO in character and awesome and JUST thank you so much. its awesome

@jubiveeline (it won't let me actually @ you, ugh!)--wow thank you so much!

I'm so so honored and happy every time someone finds TD and falls in love with it. I seriously can't describe how much that means to me.

Dirk and Hal are forever favorites of mine, I'm really glad people like how I handle them in my story, even though I go a very different direction than canon--I think it's really interesting to have them relate to each other more, to work through the tension and issues between them.

Karkat despite his lack of appearance (for now), is just so vital to Side A Dave's mindset, and once he's finally in, Dave will have a much better time. (This is exactly why Karkat had to be delayed and could not be present on arrival, haha). If you can believe it, in early forms of the story, I wasn't going to bring Karkat into the other universe. But then I realized Dave was way too miserable without him--he needs SOME kind of support, especially because I don't have any trolls in the Side A universe.

And Side B Dave! He's so fun! Technically he HAS appeared in TD, of course, and he will appear for a liiiittle longer..but then he will be out for awhile. Obviously, he is one of the main characters of Side B itself, lol. I refer to him as 'well-adjusted!Dave' sometimes, because...well, he is, lol. Dirk and Hal's shared parentage is far better than Bro's. Although, tbh, Hal is the fuller father figure.

Hs^2 and what Hussie moved on to...yeah, it's hard to get into. I found the epilogues interesting and perhaps promising, but how other people were so upset by them really resonated with me, and I agree that it's such a different direction that it doesn't really ultimately suit the world or story and themes that were built before.

I WILL get back to TD someday--It's a long term goal of mine. The story still very much lives in me, as do the Strider boys. I'm at the point where to properly write it though, I would have to reread Homestuck, at least part of it, and I just haven't been able to find the time yet. I have a whole chapter and a half I haven't posted yet, alongside like, literally 20,000 words of notes or so. So more story IS out there...and I will write more and get it posted someday.

Ok I'm just sort of rambling because whenever someone is nice to me about TD I like to give some details and information because you deserve it. :) Thank you so so much. As a further way of thanks, here's a funny conversation between dave and karkat:

hopefully tumblr doesn't kill the quality here.