#which should be obvious considering that there are three fanfictions of mine that end with them having children

[be-side-my-self]

In celebration of @cellard0ors finishing her fanfiction „Unexpected gifts“ I decided to clean up one of my older sketches.

Sketch can be found in this dump:

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

[kaigarax]

The Status Quo

Series: BNHA various x reader

Title: Of Shared Secrets, Stolen Kisses and Silent Hearts

Chapter: 6

Fanfiction / reader insert / 1st person P.O.V.

Quote: "I wonder if people truly do love each other as much as they do in romantic stories?"

I know of many that have claimed to have recognized her elegance from first glance but to me she was utterly ordinary.

Anything and everything involving people contains patterns. Whether they are the actions found in our day to day lives or the results of a strenuous competition between rivals, there are always things to be tracked and repeated if one is willing to observe long enough. And with enough patience one may often find themselves on the upside of patterns.

Many people would argue against the idea of being patterned with their own experiences of spontaneous people. I would argue back that they’re just looking at the wrong thing.

Spontaneous people tend to attract the attention of those who wish to adventure the world around them yet are too scared to do so themselves. Oftentimes, despite good intentions, that spontaneous person will begin to neglect others before falling out of that relationship they had worked so hard to build.

While patterns are seen in some situations as negative they are actually quite satisfactory to the individual. While many people say that the human brain needs something different every once and a while, the heart often needs consistency.

It’s why people believe that relationships should only ever be shared between two people. It’s why people believe that a long lasting single relationship is better than a variety of short ones.

People need consistency in their lives.

In this world I had been born in there were people who had been gifted special abilities. The world had evolved from this stagnant phase of development before blasting off into a direction no one ever would’ve been able to predict.

With special abilities came the separation of people. Of course, there has always been separation between social classes. It was how our brains had been wired. To find people similar to us while simultaneously distancing ourselves from those who we saw as different.

With special abilities came clear differences between the weak and strong.

In theory, having special abilities shouldn’t have affected the person you would turn into but it did enable them. It enabled people to get away with hurting others. There had always been criminal organizations in society but their abilities made it so that they were no longer able to be taken care of by simple officers. They required a special type of officer which would eventually become known as a hero.

From abilities came enablement for crime. From cinimals came heroes. And from heroes came villains.

They say that evil does not rise to strike until a hero appears. Someone claiming a position of power over others until someone new feels that they need to be taken down; taking on the role of a villain. Of course, who the villain is often depends on whose perspective you’re looking from.

I was certain you must’ve thought me to be a villain in your life.

As a stranger from a lower class I was just an extra to you. You, standing above everyone else and giving a speech about how you hoped for everyone to take something important out of today’s lesson, looked like a naive fool that needed to get a dose of reality. Really I was envious of how easy you made everything seem.

And, through human patterns, when someone is jealous they tend to act harshly. Not just were you in class 1-A, the kids who had survived the villain attack, but you had ranked among the highest in the entrance exam.

In the cavalry battle, I goaded you and your team but it seemed pointless. Where I would’ve raged back you remained calm. Where I would’ve called something negative back, you responded calmly.

Everything about you seemed so stereotypical of what society believed a hero to be and it made me want to hate you.

I wanted to knock you down and in my need to bring you down I became your villain. An obstacle that stood in your path. A negative blockade that you needed to move before you could continue onto your next portion of the track.

It was quite easy to build an idea of who you were when I didn’t know you. It was easy to want to hate you when the only you that existed to me was a character I’d created in my head.

And then you just had to come up to me and mess everything up. You and that stupid cheerleader uniform.

“Hey you! class 1-A!” I called out, “what in the world are you doing?”

You looked around for a brief moment before turning your gaze to me. “My classmates just tossed this to me and told me to change,” you answered without a second thought smiling sheepishly, “oh, ummm, you’re in class 1-B, right?”

I scoffed, “typical of class 1-A. Barely even recognizing someone from another class.”

“You’re Monoma Neito, aren’t you?”

“I’m surprised someone from the mighty 1-A class knows my name.”

You tilted your head to the side, “for someone who seems to care so much about names, you don’t seem to know mine considering how you’ve referred to me by my class about three times now.”

“T-thats…” I flushed brightly

“It’s alright. I’m not the best with names either!” You smiled in a way that helped to ease the situation, “anyways, did you need something when you called out to me?”

I paused for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible answer. “I just wanted to tell you that it’s pointless for you to be wearing something so frilly! All the first year students were called to the field in their gym uniforms so that they can participate in the exhibition competitions.”

“Oh, alright…” you paused, “thanks I guess. Anyways, see you around.”

“Wait!” I called out as you turned to make your way back to the field, “aren’t you going to change back?”

“My classmates seemed rather excited to dress up so I don’t wanna ruin their moment of joy.”

“Even if you end up looking like a fool?”

“Well if it makes them happy then I don’t mind!”

Your answer puzzled me. Throughout the competition you didn’t seem as spontaneous as your green haired classmate but you weren’t as stiff as Endeavour's son either. It seemed as if you were just satisfied riding everyone else’s wave instead of trying to make your own. Out of all the heroes and hero potentials I’d met you had to be the strangest.

I had opened my mouth to ask you a question before I even realized the words had left my lips. “You don't strike me as someone who fits the stereotype of a hero. So what in the world are you doing here?”

You smiled as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, “because I want to be a hero.” And to your credit, it was.

People were patterns so why was it that I couldn’t place you into something? You seemed like such an abstract person yet gave such a simple answer! You must have a pattern that people can find. I just need to pay attention to the right things.

I watched you from behind as you made your way down the hall. Before you had exited though you had turned back to me and smiled, “my name’s (L/n) (Y/n)! Try to remember it next time you wanna talk to me, alright?”

[coldtomyflash]

I feel like the most obvious path to Coldwestallen has been to have Barry and Iris get together first, although I've seen a couple fics where Len and Iris do, but I don't think I've ever seen a Coldflash turn into Coldwestallen. Do you think there's a scenario where that could happen ?

 Oh that’s true isn’t it. Probably because it’s easiest, since westallen is established, or since Iris/Len is a bit easier to add Barry to in a natural way. I’ll be honest and say that all the coldwestallen story conceits I have are either westallen that adds cold, or coldwest that adds barry, or westallen and coldwest that gets messy (there’s a double amnesia AU I may still one day write).

That being said - of course there’s a scenario where it could happen.

There’s always a scenario where something could happen :D

I guess you’d have to start with - how did Barry and Len get together and why weren’t Barry and Iris together to start?

I’d honestly say it works best if you go with mid to late S2 for establishing coldflash. That was you don’t have established WA in canon yet to write your way around, and you can ignore Legends and Len leaving town in S2. Just branch from 2x09 where Len warns Barry about the Trickster and Weather Wizard and go from there.

Starting from that - I would say it makes sense to establish coldflash in whatever manner makes sense to you, whether it starts as a frenemies with benefits, blowing off steam kind of thing (my preference), or whether it is them working a case and getting closer until sparks fly (also fun) or something else. But establish coldflash and their dynamic - but don’t yet make it into a super serious and super committed thing.

Len isn’t foolish and he is perceptive - he knows Barry is and always has been holding a candle for Iris. This doesn’t bother him because he doesn’t expect this thing with Barry to get ‘real’. It is what it is, it’s fun, there’s mutual respect and everyone is having a good time, with a bit of spice and danger. If he finds himself a little over-invested, well, that’s on him, and he’ll deal with it when it needs dealing with.

Enter Iris, tentatively opening herself to Barry, finally - feeling ready for something with him (post Eddie’s death, sometime in S2, much like canon). Barry, then, is inexplicably torn - surprising himself, Len, and Iris. This is Unforeseen. Barry’s been in love with Iris for half his life, he’s not supposed to experience any conflict about finally having the opportunity to be with her now that she’s in a place where she’s emotionally open to that.

But, well, he is. Conflicted, that is. Because yeah, he feels for Iris, that hasn’t gone away. But now he’s guilty because, he’s kind of with Len? And really, to his own surprise a bit, really likes being with Len. He’s funny and charming and strong and sometimes mean and okay Barry actually kind of likes that mean-streak if he’s being fully honest, it’s refreshing and makes him feel more safe to be himself, more humble and down to earth, not like he has to constantly be the perfect golden boy on a pedestal but is allowed to be human.

Being with Len is good for him, and Barry doesn’t want to give that up. Which is a startling revelation to him when Iris kisses him and he kisses her back then immediately goes into a weird spiral because - are he and Len even exclusive? They never talked about it. What is he even doing? He can’t build a life with Len - can he? Holy crap he wants to build a life with Len. But Iris - what about Iris? He still wants to build a life with her. He and Len have never talked about Iris, not really, except skirting the topic, and Barry knows he’s never been subtle about his feelings for her but -

Iris is. Confused. Barry never fully confided what’s going on with Len to her. He hinted at some scandalous liasons, maybe, but she had no clue Barry was in any sort of situation that she might be interrupting. Barry is terrible at divulging his secrets or telling his friends and family anything, we know this. 

Barry is an idiot (love him to death) and decides that Len is somehow the right person to confide in with his struggles. Len is. Shaking his head. Barry wtf. Go be with Iris. You love her, I’m not an idiot, I knew this would end. Barry like - screw you, aren’t you supposed to be a greedy thief and demand to keep me? Len like - wait you want me to... steal you? Like a brick of gold? Barry throwing his arms in the air like I don’t know I just don’t want to lose you!

Len suddenly confronted by the fact that Barry has real, grown-up feelings for him and not just a bit of puppy love, that he’s actually considering staying with Len and losing out on his chance to be with Iris. Which is a bit arresting because - that’s a lot of love and depth, and it’s suddenly there on display with all the despair etched into Barry’s face at the prospect of giving up Len and since when did Barry fall in love with him holy shit holy shit holy shit -

And like - Len is a greedy thief, okay. And he’s mean. He wants to keep Barry. He gets to keep Barry? He’s going to keep Barry. He doesn’t expect it to last because it’s Barry and Barry is Good and Right and Deserves to Be with Iris. But Len is Mean and Greedy and Fights Dirty. (len’s perception, obvy). So he tells Barry he won’t make him choose, but also gets all sexy-possessive (it’s one of my favourite things, okay, just allow it) and makes sure to remind Barry of all the enjoyment he gets from being with Len.

But being the instigating little shit that he is, he also encourages Barry to talk to Iris, to even take her on a date, to see if he can get from her what he gets from him. why? why play with fire? because len plays to win and he’s not going to be satisfied if barry regrets his choice and leaves him in a year over iris. he wants all of barry now that he’s got the option, dammit.

So a very conflicted Barry takes Iris out. Kisses her. Gets all heart-beating confused and delighted and everything. Things get a bit hot and heavy and then he stops and has to talk because this is great but he feels guilty as hell and part of that guilt is because yes okay Len said this is fine but is it really and what does Barry want and okay Iris totally has a right to know where his head is at.

So Barry opens up to Iris about the situation and she’s like “relationship? huh? but - he’s a thief, I don’t - you’re the flash - how does - huh?” quite understandably I would say, because last time she met Len, he was threatening to blow her up in her own livingroom. It wasn’t a great first impression. sure barry hinted at some ~liasons~ with someone and maybe she suspected it was cold but this is so much beyond that.

So she takes it on herself to at least make sure this guy has good intentions for Barry because whatever the situation, she still loves and cares for Barry and if he’s in over his head with this antagonist and is being taken advantage of, it’s her duty as his friend to help make sure he’s okay. (And also - Barry wants to be with her. he said as much. he isn’t shy about being in love with her. so why the hell is he still hung up on this guy?)

And Len is... weird. Okay. He’s weird. She goes to talk to him and he’s speaking in riddles and double-speak and innuendo. So much innuendo. Why? Puns all the way up, all the way down. And they argue and it’s... electric. Like shockingly electric. It gets to like them standing chest to chest breathing heavy and hissing invective at one another before they realize - oh. Oh this is tension, this is chemistry. This is dangerous.

Nothing happens. They back off as one. Recalibrate. Try to sort their heads around ‘what the hell was that’. Len tells Barry that Iris visited him. Barry confronts Iris. Iris tells him she was legit worried, and Barry decides they all need to sit down together so he can more legitimately smooth over Iris’s actually-quite-reasonable fears and maybe like... sort out what he wants.

but obviously what he wants is to have his cake and eat it too. because he’s always been in love with her but now he’s also in love with him, and either way he wins and he loses and that is a very painful and difficult situation to be in and maybe len never should have encouraged him to pursue this because what a goddamn mess his heart is now.

and from there, naturally the next thing to do is to conclude the narrative in a satisfying way and get the three of them together. both len and iris comforting a distraught barry on instinct, looking at each other and pausing, then continuing because “this is my job” “no it’s mine”. like a game of chicken comforting him and challenging each other, raised eyebrows and “your move” looks until they’re kind of very tenderly seducing barry and it’s delightfully overwhelming to him. it’s soft (softer than how i’d usually write smut tbh) because the focus is on these very intense and overpowering emotions and this deep (healthy!) possessiveness born out of love from all three of them. 

and because i’m a sucker for it there’s got to be this pivotal moment where len and iris kiss. like len and iris are peppering barry with kisses, stealing his lips, taking turns doing that as they undress him (they work so well in tandem, gee what a surprise), and then he leans back a bit as they move to trade his mouth off again and his eyes are half-lidded but the desire is plain as day so iris and len have a moment of silent negotiation and then they kiss and -

oh. oh, that is more than just electric. it’s something special. deep, powerful, undeniable.

so of course really fantastic sex is had by all, because this is fanfiction and sex is never awkward and no one accidentally falls off the bed (except that would be super funny and i’d probably write it that way just because). and barry is delighted and blissed out af. and iris and len’s fingers intertwine over barry’s stomach as they lay on either side of him, and it’s beautiful and offers a promise of what’s to come.

i’d keep that end short rather than do the whole relationship negotiation but honestly knowing me, i’d actually end up incidentally dragging it out more and adding in more of that relationship negotiation dynamic before they got to the end because i can’t help it.

But uhm. To answer your question: Yes. Yes I do think the scenario is possible.

[kriscme]

One Life To Live

Hi Readers, here’s the latest chapter.  As always thanks to Ronja for permission to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fantic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” which can be read on AO3 and FanFiction Chapter 29 “Peeta!  Peeta!  Wait!” I shout.   He stops and turns.   I break into a run to arrive at his side breathless.   “Hi” I pant. “Do you mind if I walk with you?” A brief shake of the head.  “No, it’s OK.” And then he turns his eyes back to the road. “I . . . um . . .”  Oh, just get this over with.   “I was sorry to hear about you and Lace.  If there’s anything I can do.  You know, if you want to talk.  Or anything.” “Thanks.  But there’s nothing anyone can do.  And I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s OK.” “Of course,” I say, deflated.   “Whatever you want.” Already I regret the impulse that had me tearing out the village gates and down the road after him.  All of yesterday I was trying to build up the courage to go see him.  To offer support, or friendship, or a shoulder to cry on; whatever Peeta wanted that I could provide.  But it just seemed wrong somehow, after so many weeks of avoiding any visits to his home, to turn up unexpectedly, and at such a time, to say what, exactly?   So, when I saw him from my sitting room window, heading towards town, I saw the perfect opening.  We both had to walk to work.  It was part of our normal day.   I abandoned my tea and toast, stuffed feet into shoes, arms into a jacket, grabbed my pack by the door and sped after him.  But now I see the flaw in my plan.  If I had gone to his home, I could have said, “well, if you need anything, just ask,” and then left having done all that I can.   But what do I do now?  He doesn’t want me around, that’s clear.  But if I make my excuses and leave, then it appears as if I don’t really care, and that’s the last thing I want him to think.   But it soon becomes obvious that I’m going to have to make some kind of conversation or suffer dead silence for the remainder of the walk.  Talk is Peeta’s talent, not mine, but I can tell by the set of his jaw and the way he keeps his eyes straight ahead that it’s not going to come from him.   “You’ll never guess who’s in 12,” I say with an attempt at brightness. “Cressida.  Johanna told me. She’s here to report on the new national park.  And she ordered a wedding cake from the bakery.” “Oh.” Damn Johanna. That’s all I had.  “Well, Johanna doesn’t know who she’s marrying. It’s – “ “Katniss, I don’t care.   I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m just not in the mood.  Not for anything.  Do you mind?” Mind what?  Not talking?  Is it me? Is that what he’s not in the mood for? Is he asking me to leave?  I look to his face for clues.  It’s hard and set, his gaze fixed on something in the middle distance.  He’s shut me out.  I haven’t felt this from Peeta since we returned from our first Games when he’d barely look at me. I try to be sympathetic, to understand that he’s in very dark place right now but the sting of rejection hits hard.   It’s not my fault they broke up.  Why is he taking it out on me?  “No, of course not,” I say stiffly.   “I’ll just run ahead then.”  

I put about 200 meters between us before I slow down to a walk.  Anger gives way to remorse.   I shouldn’t have reacted like that.   I made it about me when it’s Peeta who’s had his heart broken. The last thing he’ll want to hear is talk about weddings.   But it’s done now and there’s no taking it back.  He won’t appreciate it if I go back to apologize and put myself in his company again.  The best I can do for him is to leave him be until he’s ready. But at least he’s back at work, and that’s a good thing.  And it only took three days.  It took Lace one.  I know, because I checked.  As much as I dislike her, I was glad to see she hasn’t been brought so low that she’s unable to work.  But I suppose there’s rent to pay and customer orders waiting.   Same for Peeta with those cake orders.  You carry on.  You go through the motions until life has meaning again.  That was the advice Dr Aurelius gave me in those early days. And it does work.   But I did want to talk to him about Cressida and what her presence here means to us.   And perhaps more pressingly, what to do with Johanna.  Because while she’s been bustling around trying to help the two of us, she’s possibly the one most in need of help. Marcus didn’t return home alone that night. He brought a guest.  And while he busied himself in the kitchen making dinner, Cressida and I had the chance to catch up.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to explain the current situation with Peeta and me.  It didn’t take long for this experienced television director to ferret out most of the facts from the local inhabitants.  Marcus seems to have contributed too.  At least, insomuch as the part I’ve played in the development of this new national park. The fact that he presently resides in my house would also have told her something.   I was right that the government has forbidden any media intrusion into the lives of Victors, unless that Victor has forfeited that right by seeking it out.  Even Plutarch Heavensbee, now Director of Communications, has to abide by this rule.  Cressida told me he wanted to send a TV crew to my house to launch a new singing program before Paylor put a stop to it.  I dimly recalled being asked if I’d like to perform for a TV show he had planned. That was on the hovercraft that brought Haymitch and me back to 12. “Panem’s Got Talent?” I asked.  “The one that has representatives from each district?” “That’s it,” said Cressida.  “He wanted you to be a mentor.” Mentor?  Is he kidding?  Plutarch has really no idea. “I should warn you,” said Cressida delicately, “that your association with Marcus could expose you to unwanted publicity if it’s assumed you’ve taken on a public role.  And any publicity that you attract will also expose Peeta to the same risk.  I’m afraid there’s no separating the two of you.  Not with your history.”   “Is that what happened to Johanna?  She told me how she’s been screwed by the media.” I didn’t add “and by you” but my tone implied it.

“What has she told you?” she asked warily.   “That you did a TV special on her that made her look like a fool.”  Johanna didn’t actually say that, but that was the consequence.  A pretentious title, the naked interview, the mocking comments on social media that followed.  “You know better than most what Johanna’s gone through.  She didn’t deserve that.” Cressida glanced over at the door.   Noise could be heard from the kitchen. Satisfied, she leaned closer to me and said in a hushed voice, “Johanna got what she wanted.  The TV special was her idea.  She chose the name, the content, and how she’d be interviewed.  I thought it was a bad idea from the beginning but Marcus said to indulge her, so I did.  The trash we ended up with wasn’t intended to see the light of day, but Johanna went over my head to ask Plutarch when it would be aired.  A week later as it turned out, in prime time.  It was the highest rating show for the time slot, even beating “One Life to Live” that ran at the same time.  Didn’t anyone here see it?” Hundreds, if not thousands, probably.  But no one I know.   No, that’s not right.  Lace did.  That’s how she knew where to hit Johanna exactly where it hurts that night at the pub.   “We watch “One Life to Live.”  I mean, Haymitch does.  And I don’t watch much television.  I guess that’s why we missed it.” Cressida continued, “it caused a frenzy on social media and Marcus’s opponents had a field day.  Johanna didn’t seem to care but Marcus certainly did.”   “Why does he put up with her if she’s so much trouble?” “For the same reasons anyone puts up with her. We know what’s she suffered, and how much this country owes her.  She’s also oddly likeable, despite being a pain in the butt most of the time. And she was an enormous help to Marcus in 7 in rallying public support against the logging companies.  He also feels responsible, since he was the one who said to go ahead with the interview. But he couldn’t have known Plutarch would get hold of it.  I’m mostly to blame.  I shouldn’t have agreed to do it, or at least made sure the tape was destroyed immediately after.  I know what Plutarch’s like.  Anything for ratings.  Even exploiting a sick woman isn’t too low for him.” “You think Johanna’s sick?” Cressida sighed. “Sick might not be the right word.   But she has problems.  I think she struggles to find her identity now that the Games and the war are over.  It’s probably why she became so intensely involved with the conservation movement in 7. She needs to feel relevant.  It was a very difficult situation for Marcus. On one hand, he was grateful for her support but on the other hand she invited ridicule every time she stripped off in public and chained herself to a tree.”

Marcus must have freaked out when he learned that Johanna had followed him to 12.  But she’s been no trouble.  I suppose it’s partly because people are generally supportive of a national park here and she’s had nothing to do.  She’s also found a new cause to fill her time – Peeta and me. “She hasn’t done anything like that since she’s been here,” I said.  I don’t count the exposed cleavage for Arthur’s benefit as “stripping off.” “Are you sure about that?” No.  I don’t see Johanna all that much considering she’s only across the road from me. Just visits within the confines of the Village and outings to the pub on Saturday nights.  “What has she done?” Cressida proceeded to tell me about a recent incident at the ice-cream parlor.  Johanna had treated herself to the four-scoop special – four scoops of ice-cream piled on top of one another in a cone.  While she was seated at a table all four scoops of the melting ice-cream tumbled down her front and into her lap. “She took off her dress and all she had under it was a G-string.  And since that was wet, it came off too.  One of my crew heard it from the proprietor of the dress-making shop in the main street. She was there when it happened.  And then Johanna caused further scandal when she asked if anyone wanted to lick it off.”   I snorted in disbelief.  Max, with his ear for gossip, would surely have heard about it and then told me.  Besides, Johanna never wears dresses, preferring either trousers or shorts.     “It’s not true,” I told Cressida.  “The owner of the dress-making shop is Peeta’s ex-fiancé.  She hates Johanna.”  I guess the opportunity to get back at Johanna proved too tempting for Lace.   What’s most concerning though is that Cressida found it plausible. Marcus came in at the moment to announce that dinner was ready and there was no more talk of Johanna.  Over a meal of nut loaf and salad, Cressida told of us her forthcoming wedding.  I murmured the usual congratulations.  She hesitated when she named the groom. She could have saved herself the worry.   I don’t care who Gale marries.  They are well-suited, actually. Cressida’s in the television industry and Gale, with his fancy new job, makes frequent appearances on it.  It’s how their relationship blossomed, with Cressida behind the camera and Gale in front of it in a series of interviews she directed. I learned that he’s still based in 2 and he has something to do with the planning of a new military base to replace the one he helped destroy in the war.  Cressida went into some detail about it, but I wasn’t really listening. I was trying to match the boy I had known with this new incarnation of himself.    That boy had raged against the Capitol and laughed at their ridiculous fashions.  And now he’s almost one of them and about to marry a bald woman with a tattooed head.   To be accurate, a half bald woman. Cressida has grown her hair on one side: long, blond and falling over one eye.   A more disturbing topic of conversation was the end of Marcus’s work here in 12.  A team will arrive later in the year to lay down tracks and erect viewing platforms, signs and other structures but Marcus will have long gone by then.  I said little while he and Cressida talked of his plans in 13.  Marcus shot me an inquiring look a couple of times but I kept my face blank.   I knew the day was coming but I’ve put off thinking about it.  What’s the point?  I can’t leave 12 and Marcus has an important job to do that takes him to places where I can’t follow.   I risk a quick glance over my shoulder to see where Peeta is.   I walk faster than he does and I expect to see that he’s a long way behind but instead I find that he’s gained considerable ground on me.  My feet must have slowed and I quicken my stride until we’re at a comfortable distance again.  If all I can do for him is to give him space, then I’m determined that he shall have it.   He doesn’t need my clumsy attempts at sympathy or distraction right now.  Or even worse, my awkward silences.  And, to be honest, there’s another more selfish reason.  I don’t know how I should act around him.  It’s just easier to keep away. In any case, Johanna was wrong to urge me to see him so soon.  It’s been only a few days.  An ex-lover, even if he doesn’t remember how it felt to love her, can only be a painful reminder of what he’s lost.  But at least he knows now that I am here for him when he’s ready.    And in the meantime, Johanna will take good care of him. What Cressida told me should make me anxious but it’s actually done the opposite.  They’ll help each other.  Peeta needs a sympathetic ear and not to be alone in that big house of his.  And Johanna needs something to occupy her time now that a reunion between Peeta and me is no longer possible.  Johanna’s problems will likely start when Peeta has recovered and she no longer has a reason to stay in 12.  And then what?

What does a victor do when the fighting is over and all that’s left is yourself?  You could return to your family, but Johanna doesn’t have one.  Snow had them killed.  You could reunite with your lover but Johanna didn’t have one of those either.  Too risky. A lover gave Snow something to hold over you.  Or you could return to what once defined you, maybe not as a permanent solution, but as a starting point at least.   For me, it was hunting.  For Peeta, baking.  For Haymitch, drinking.  For Beetee, science.  For Enobaria, celebrity.  For Annie, whose life was Finnick, his son to care for.   And Johanna goes back to what?  Chopping wood?  I can’t imagine any satisfaction from that.   I don’t really know Johanna that well.   I know she can kill viciously.  I don’t hold it against her.  To survive, you do what you have to.  And like Peeta and me, she would have been told to put on a show. Only for Johanna it was helpless weakling turned ruthless killer in the blink of an eye rather than tragic star-crossed lovers.   I didn’t like her when we first met.  Even now, I feel irritated just thinking about it. That time in the elevator when she stepped out of her costume to expose her naked body to Peeta and me.  And then how Peeta reacted to it.  Laughing at me.  You’re so pure, Katniss.   For a split second, I’m tempted to turn around and run back to tell him what pure Katniss got up to last night.  But then, just as quickly, resentment gives way to dejection.  He wouldn’t care.   Probably just give me a strange look and continue walking.  

Anyway, it’s Johanna I should be thinking about.  Why does it always have to come back to Peeta with me?  It’s over, Everdeen.  Move on. Although it is hard to keep my mind off him when he’s behind me and I’m trying to keep my distance.  Another fleeting glance over my shoulder.  He’s gained again.  I quicken my pace in response.  Either Peeta walks faster than he used to, or I’ve slowed down.   So, Johanna.  In spite of our mutual dislike, we formed something of a bond in 13, united as we were in our determination to bring down Snow and we became allies, if not actual friends.  But our plan to infiltrate the Capitol together came to naught when Johanna failed her final exam in combat training.  Her fear of water was what did it.  She feared it so much, she avoided showering and made do with an ineffectual wipe with a damp cloth.  Dirt accumulated under her nails and I wondered if people from 7 bathed.  

She looks clean enough to me now though which makes me think she must have been treated for it since.   I guess if all Johanna does, after everything she’s endured, is a willingness to take off her clothes at the slightest excuse, then she’s come out of it pretty well.  It’s her natural inhibition about nakedness taken to an extreme with a dash of attention seeking thrown in.   Well, more than a dash.  A huge dollop, actually.   But at least she does it for a good cause, dubious in value as it may seem to others.   She just needs another way to express herself.  Something more socially acceptable.  And there was something else that Cressida hinted at.  A purpose.  A reason to get out of bed in the morning.  We all need that.   What I do know about her is that she loves her home district.  I recall the bundle of pine needles I made for her.  “Smells like home,” she said, her eyes full with tears.   And something else.  A conversation we had in 13.  Of Johanna admitting to being jealous of me.  I told her, “You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would’ve had to feed you lines.”  And her answer, “True. But no one likes me.”   But she’s wrong about that.  Johanna is immensely popular with the citizens of 7.  I bet no one fed her lines when she was fighting the logging companies.  Along with loyalty, courage, dedication to a cause, a willingness to work hard and a hide as tough as an elephant’s, there must be something Johanna is suited for.

By the time I reach the school, Peeta has already turned down a side street to the bakery.  He’ll probably get straight onto the cake orders.  He’s found therapy in his work before and I hope he does again. I know it will be a hard slog.  How do you recover from a love you’ll never have again?   I wish I had the answer.  

When it’s time to go home, I make sure that Peeta’s not in sight first.  But I need not worry.  He got home well before me.  I know because at my front door is a white bakery box from Carter’s.  I lift the lid and inside is a small cake lavishly frosted with katniss and primrose flowers.  Tucked into the side is an envelope.  I wait until I’m inside the house to open it.  I expect to find a written apology as the cake is obviously a peace offering. But there’s no letter.  I tip the contents into my hand.  It’s a locket on a chain.  The same locket he gave me in the Quell.  

[seyaryminamoto]

Hello and first of all thank you for your great fanfiction work, I really enjoy reading what you write. Now there is a question, that bugs me for a while now. Would you say Sozin just got up one morning and decided to conquer the world, or has there actually been a reason for this? I imagine that the decentralized Earth Kingdom may have caused some trouble to the Fire Nation in the past or the islands simply had trouble to grow enough food for a growing population. What are your thoughts on it?

Yeah, your last idea is part of my interpretation. I think I had Gladiator’s Azula explaining her take on it once, back in the very beginnings of the story. Sozin, in my opinion, had two motivations: the first was the need for more territory. The way he talks to Roku about the prosperity of the Fire Nation in “The Avatar and the Fire Lord” implies things are thriving in the Fire Nation. The problem with such prosperity is that sustaining it can lead to different kinds of problems: a happier nation, with better survival rates and proper living conditions, will eventually translate into a growing population. If the population grows faster than the economy that sustains it, the prosperity will decrease: new problems arise, and there won’t be easy solutions for them.

I think Sozin’s Fire Nation was already on the verge of new problems arising. He didn’t reveal it, didn’t admit it, but that he acted on his plans regardless of Roku’s disapproval meant that, at first, he wasn’t scared enough of the Avatar’s threats. He considered Roku’s negative wasn’t a true deterrent for his ambitious plans. But when Roku tears his palace halfway to the ground and Sozin sees his friend’s threat is SERIOUS, he actually heeds it. I think it’s implied he doesn’t act on his conquest urges until Roku is dead. He makes the decision to let him die in the volcano for his own personal gain, and to see his dreams of extending the Fire Nation across the whole world coming true.

The direct attack on the Air Temples came from Sozin’s second motivation, directly related to Roku’s rejection of his plan: Sozin knows the Avatar will get in his way. Destroying the culture that the next Avatar will be born to would mean the Avatar would die before mastering all elements, and even if the Avatar is reborn to a Water Tribe later, a new Avatar would only be able to master three elements if the airbenders are all dead. This decreases the threat an Avatar can pose to his plan. Obviously, Aang escapes and he’s already an airbending master, so Sozin’s plan ends up backfiring despite it seemed so iron-clad.

None of this analysis is meant to take away the horror of Sozin’s actions, no military strategy could ever validate something as gruesome as the genocide of an entire nation, but I do believe there are possible interpretations that can point us towards why Sozin chose to wipe out Air Nomads instead of choosing the Water Tribes or the Earth Kingdom. Technically, as far as our idea of “overpopulation = need more territory and resources” goes, the Air Nomads are by far the least convenient option to destroy. There’s no Fire Nation colony in any Air Temple, for obvious reasons: they’re in remote locations that surely have very little to offer, as far as resources are concerned. The only new settlement there is in an Air Temple is that of the Mechanist and his people, who are Earth Kingdom refugees from the last years of the war, not descendants of early Fire Nation settlers who might take advantage of those temples. Therefore, Sozin’s attempt to exterminate the Air Nomads definitely obeys his fear of Roku’s power and the knowledge that a fully-developed Avatar could easily end his quest for expansion.

Now, looking at the actions of Azulon and Ozai, I think both of Sozin’s motivations carry on to his progeny. Azulon certainly wages war on the Earth Kingdom... but he takes all Southern Water Tribe waterbenders as captives, torturing them in the worst possible conditions he can conjure. Why the south, and not the north? Partly, the north is shown as a stronger, unified nation, which means it should be protected better. But as far as the cycle of the Avatars is concerned, it stands to reason that the Water Tribe Avatar alternates between North and South per cycle: the last Water Tribe Avatar was Kuruk, a northerner. The next Water Tribe Avatar should be a southerner... and as far as canon is concerned, Korra birth in the Southern Water Tribe proves that’s the case. Ergo, Azulon follows his father’s footsteps by trying to kill a potential, waterbending Avatar before they can learn new bending arts. With a war split in two fronts, Azulon has to take charge of battling in the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribe without any Sozin’s Comet bonus to aid him. He can’t afford massacring the Southern Water Tribe completely without sacrificing other aspects of the war, but he can afford doing away with all the waterbenders to further hinder the Avatar’s potential growth: if the airbending Avatar did die during Sozin’s wipe-out of the Air Temples or some time afterwards, then the next one would be born in the south. Take all waterbenders captive and if one of them was supposed to be the Avatar, they’ll be annulled and restrained: one less threat to worry about.

As for Ozai, I suspect half of what’s going on during his tenure got started during Azulon’s (he’s depicted in his portrait as the Fire Lord of the technological advancements, seen by the many factories depicted around him, but the factory in Jang Hui actually has been in place since Azulon’s time, if I recall correctly...). But even then, the Fire Lord’s rule we see most clearly in the show is obviously Ozai’s. One village we see Ozai’s army has taken over is Haru’s: the soldiers tax the villagers, and as it’s a mining village (even if the mines are abandoned), it stands to reason that the village was singled out because of its potential usefulness for mining. There are several other villages in the Earth Kingdom that haven’t been touched by the Fire Nation (at least not yet), so why Haru’s and not the Fortuneteller’s or Kyoshi Island? Why would Gaipan village (the one in Jet) be taken too? Well, Gaipan is close to a big forest, and the wikia describes it as a “quiet town of woodsmen and loggers”. Again, resources! As for Senlin Village, from “Winter Solstice Part 1″? Again, as written in the wikia: “Due to a lack of strategical advantage, the Fire Nation did not occupy this former Earth Kingdom village during the Hundred Year War.” There was no plausible logging advantage here after they literally burned down the whole forest, so...

Now then, why do we mostly see Fire Nation soldiers instead of actual, full-blown occupation in every village? Because, irony of ironies, war is a pretty effective means for population control. Send out an army to conquer and unless you’re some sort of miracle strategist or you have a weapon of wonders, you will sustain losses. As large as the Fire Nation army had to be to achieve all it did, they absolutely didn’t have the manpower to occupy the entire world all along, and all the other nations certainly fought back, meaning that the huge army didn’t wipe out everything with no opposition. While the comics establish that there have been colonies around for ages, for longer than Aang has been alive, even (which, um, undermines the whole matter of “Sozin stayed put for as long as Roku was alive because he was afraid of repercussions” thing established in the show, but that’s none of my business...), the show offers us a different, perhaps more realistic take on the subject: there are Earth Kingdom towns untouched by the war, there are some merely occupied by soldiers, and there are others that are fully conquered colonies.

I believe most of what Ozai and Azulon could afford to send into the Earth Kingdom were soldiers who occupied towns and forced the native population to work for them, to pay taxes and whatnot, until the Fire Nation population had been restored to its previous, excessive numbers. By then, they’d have enough towns and cities in the Earth Kingdom under their control, and it would be possible to send groups of people to live and take advantage of those occupied lands.

In the end, ideology is of course an important element in Sozin’s decision to conquer the world, for there’s no doubt in my mind he was a Fire Nation supremacist and thought himself better than everyone else. But I believe the ideology angle was emphasized and overblown just to masquerade some far more mundane motivations, which included his deep fear of the Avatar and the repercussions he’d face if a fully-fledged, four-element bending Avatar like Roku ever rose again to put a stop to his project of Fire Nation world-wide expansion.

[silverinia]

Oh god, “Everything’s gonna be alright” of course 💕💕💕

Hehehehe

Alright. You’ll get some facts for this one because I don’t see the point of headcanons in this case (it’s not finished and the first thirteen chapters are basically a huge collection of my own fluffy headcanons). Maybe I’ll give them to you when it’s finished, because many of my post-Everything headcanons are kid-related, but more on that in fact no. three.

Fact #1: This is the first fic of mine that got its own playlist. I always listen to music when I write and this one needs me to be in a very specific mood. My usual writing playlist has too many happy songs in it :) So uhm, yeah. If anyone wants to check it out, it’s called WIP - Everything’s gonna be alright on Spotify (the username should be obvious at this point). I’m not good at a lot of things, but I do have a great taste in music :)

Fact #2: Something that surprised me (and, in fact, still surprises me) is how many readers were shocked by the major character death. When I wrote the first fourteen chapters, I was convinced that all the hints, comparisons and metaphors were going to give it away right from the beginning, even before I put the warning on it. I didn’t think it would be this unexpected and had long said goodbye to the idea of writing a big shocker plot twist. But while I obviously didn’t mean to do any harm, I was a little happy to see that it still managed to be surprising when I thought that it was foreseeable.

Fact #3: Kids…… I never intended them to be such a recurring topic in this fic, they almost feel like a theme at this point and I didn’t mean them to be that when I started out. I think I got a little carried away with the whole McHart babysitting stuff. It wasn’t meant to happen, but I don’t hate it. It’s probably the closest thing to a McHart-as-parents-fic I’ll ever write. It’s not my kind of a trope.

Fact #4: The death of this particular character is something I’ve been thinking about ever since I finished Lilies and Gunpowder in January. I was originally thinking about maybe making it a Lilies-sequel, but Diane has suffered enough in that universe. I wanted to leave it (and most importantly him) in the place I eventually did. Lilies-Diane’s journey was over and rightfully so, and she deserved the ending she got, with Kurt by her side and love, fulfillment and happiness in her life. Grief wasn’t something I wanted to throw at her after everything she’d been through, she had done enough and she had done good. I figured she deserved the rest of being left alone in peace by me, as hard as it was to let her go at the time. It’s kinda odd, now that I think about it. She almost feels like an old friend. Anyway, that’s how this fic happened :)

Fact #5: Okay, let’s be real… This is is a tough writing process for me. And I hate that. It’s not even the content or the subject, I knew what I was diving into when I started. It’s just that I’m currently trapped in both, a very busy private life, and a big little writing crisis. It’s been worse before, earlier in summer, when I considered quitting fanfic, but it’s not great right now either. It got better when I posted the last two chapters, I wouldn’t have posted them otherwise. But I really don’t like my writing at the moment and when I feel this way, writing doesn’t give me the creative outlet, the balance I need in my life and what I do it for anymore. I give too many fucks about statistics, I hardly read any fanfiction myself anymore because it makes me feel “unworthy” (which probably sounds more dramatic than it actually is) and allowing myself to put such negative energy on something I actually love just sucks and it’s nothing that I need in my life right now on top of everything else. The next couple of chapters are written, they’re bad and I won’t post them like this, but they’re written. I’m really trying to get over this as soon as I can, especially for anyone who still follows it because I’m sorry that it’s happening at the particular point I left it at (and also because I’m really grateful that people are following this in the first place). But I don’t want this state I’m in writing-wise to ruin the story, I love it too much to let that happen. And I hope that’s understandable.

[osmw1]

Crowbar Nurse   Chapter 15 — Fanficcers Ship, That’s What They Do

Back in front of the safehouse, the three of us had begun planning our endgame strategy together.

“This would be the path to get to the truck ending.”

I drew a line on the ground with a stick of chalk. Kiryū and I came across a set of sidewalk chalk on our way home and now we were putting it to good use by drawing maps. … Originally, it was meant to evoke the image that children were playing in the streets one day and then suddenly getting attacked by zombies, but it was never shown in the actual game for ethical reasons… Oh, and if you wanted to know, the set had every color a kid could ever need.

“Go this way, then here, turn here, then like this, then… and that’s our goal. Simple, right?” “Turn this way here?” “No, no. It’s that way there.” “Oh… so, like this?” “No, not like that. Like this.” “And then that way?” “No, the other way.” “Then this way.” “No! I’m telling you, that way over there…” “Gaaah! Knock it off, you two! Neither one of you are making any sense anymore!”

Elizabeth interrupted our serious and earnest preparation session.

“What is going on?! Ever since you have returned from the firing range, you lot have been completely incoherent, mainly because you are deliberately avoiding any eye contact! What on earth happened between the two of you?!” “Umm, erm…”

Stumbling with my words, I glanced at Kiryū who immediately looked away in a fluster. Both of us must’ve been embarrassed about how I had run up and hugged him earlier.

“… N-Nothing at all! There’s nothing that you have to worry about, Elizabeth!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and shrieked back at her, but I don’t think it helped my case at all.

“… I see. So, that’s how it is,” Elizabeth responded in a low whisper. “Huh?"

I opened my eyes to see her grinning from ear to ear.

“Umm, Elizabeth?” “I see. I understand now. So, that sort of stuff happened at the firing range.” “Wha—?!”

My head was about to snap off from how hard I was shaking my head, but Elizabeth wasn’t reacting to me at all. She was dripping with fraught just a moment ago. I guess it was good that she’s got her spirit back, but where did all of this excitement come from?

“Umm, are you alright, Elizabeth? Is something the matter?” “… I apologize for the late and abrupt introduction.” “Huh?” “I am but yet another wage slave from Shinjuku. My hobbies include dating simulations, reader-inserts, and providing dating advice to the friends around me.” “Reader-inserts?”

The term seemed to have thrown Kiryū for a loop.

“What are those? I come across lots of fan labor made by women due to the nature of my work, but I’ve never heard of that one before… Any clue, Sera?” “No, not one bit.”

As I shook my head again, this time, Elizabeth responded with a chuckle.

“Not a surprise, seeing how Sera is but a normie… Reader-insert is but a small subgenre within fanfiction. It is a type of story in which the audience inserts themselves as the protagonist, paired with a canon character. Though it doesn’t get much attention, the subgenre has quite a few followers worldwide, even outside of Japan, where they’re sometimes called x readers .” “What does the x mean though?”

Elizabeth readily answered his question.

“The x denotes pairing. You would put the character name before the x to signify the work pairs the character and the reader in a relationship, usually a romantic one. Authors overseas usually write in second person, but here in Japan, we use cookies and scripts to pull the reader’s name from their account and insert it into the text. … And for your reference, I stan canon/OC pairings. That is to say, rather than using the reader, I prefer stories with OC.” “OC?”

Kiryū was thrown for loop after loop, then he looked at me.

“… Any clue, Sera?” “No, not one bit.”

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation as I shook my head for the third time.

“You truly know nothing, don’t you…? ‘OC’ is short for ‘original character’. Anyway, getting back on track and to summarize what I mean, I indulge in observing the romance between other people. Just listening to my friends and family gushing about their love interests is simply not enough. Instead, I have to reach out to dating sims and fanfiction to satiate this desire of mine. Though I don’t care much for getting directly involved. That is why I am delighted to see this unfold.” “… What exactly is unfolding here?”

My question had only pleased her more.

“Why, of course, the situation between you and Kiryū! You two are almost like grade schoolers in how you are so conscious of each other now.” “Yeah, right! What are you talking about?!” “I am so not!”

Somehow, we both picked the most childish ways to respond to her. It was likely just him panicking, but the way how Kiryū said it was exactly how a grade schooler would.

Elizabeth mockingly scoffed back, “Heh. It’s obvious, seeing how flustered you two are. So, something did indeed happen at the firing range, then? I’m not about to judge. However, with how confused you two are, you have also lost your teamwork and communication. Now, hurry up and tell you love each other and embrace already so that we can proceed with the ending with clear heads.”

She extended her hands out towards us, as if she were waiting on something to happen.

“Think about us for a moment, Elizabeth! Surely, it’s obvious that you’re asking for something totally unreasonable!” “I am?” “Yes, you are! I haven’t met Kiryū in person before, you know? There’s no way I could even consider anything romantic between us! My feelings towards Kiryū are purely and genuinely one of respect!” “Right, sure. So she said, Kiryū.”

She takes an upwards glance at him as she spoke. Kiryū simply nodded and brushed off her comments as to end this embarrassing topic for good.

Elizabeth, why did you have to go and bring that up…?

I sighed in defeat as I looked up at Kiryū, who looked just as fed up with the situation as I was. I’m sure we were both thinking the same thing as we couldn’t help but chuckle at our predicament.

“… See how in sync you two are?”

In a complete reversal, she had turned to a sage; her expression was calm and gentle and her laughter dry, but different from the teasing tone that marked her previously. … A thought randomly popped into my mind: Oh, that’s right. She’s got her teaching license, doesn’t she? Perhaps she’s taught boys and girls in her class that acted the same way. Interrupting my thoughts, Elizabeth continued,

“It’s good and well that you two are in sync but remember that our teamwork crumbles if you two are being awkward and refuse to look each other in the eyes. Cooperation is just as important in slaying zombies as it is in folk dance in PE class. Nothing will work to your favor if you are embarrassed. Don’t forget that our lives are on the line too.” “You’re… absolutely right.”

I nodded after listening to Elizabeth. She smiled back as if to say, Just as long as you understand. I have the feeling that she had messed with us only to snap us out of our emotions. She has my gratitude for that, but yet… having how bothered I had been pointed out made me feel a little sheepish.

“… I know perfectly how to get to the truck ending, so don’t worry about memorizing this.”

I punctuated my explanation with a sigh,

“But to give everyone the gist of it, our plan is to take a bit of a detour to slip past the traps ahead of us as we force our way to the enemies and bosses. After the detour, we’ll barrel down the missile-torn roads in our truck towards ‘You’… That’s the plan, at least. Should be a piece of cake.” “A piece of cake? There were exactly zero parts in your plan that sounded easy.”

Elizabeth squeezed her temples as if she had a terrible headache. Raising my head upwards, I looked into her eyes, reassuring her that we’ll be fine, and she smiled.

“Don’t worry. Let me take care of massacring the zombies. Sure, it may be a little rough ahead, but we’ve got so many toys in our arsenal, so let’s have some fun enjoying this game too. Let’s just step on the gas and see if we can’t power through it.” “I trust you, Sera.”

The man of few words picked up his crowbar.

“The path is as you marked out, right? There ain’t much time. Let’s get a move on.”

He wasn’t kidding about hurrying; he sped off, leaving Elizabeth and me to frantically catch up. Elizabeth saw the blush on my cheeks and empathetically patted my on the shoulder with a gentle smile.

“… You have fallen for Kiryū, haven’t you? Perhaps you are surprised at how sudden these feelings came?” “I-I’m telling you, I haven’t! Really!”

I desperately shook my head from side to side, but… unfortunately, I can’t seem to shake Kiryū off my mind. Still, she's mistaken. These aren’t romantic feelings… I don't think so, at least. It was easy to brush off her earlier comments as a joke, but the longer I contemplate about this, the more embarrassed I get. I hadn’t given much thought about the Kiryū in real life up until now. I mean, I understand there’s a person in there, but I was charmed by the handsome Kiryū Sōichirō. And because of that, I’d been treating him like an actual in-game NPC. I was even being smug and cavalier to him.

I don’t think I would act like that anymore. I don’t think I could. I can’t even look him properly in the eyes.

“Is that right? Well, in that case, I should best stop teasing you about it. My apologies for being insensitive. But what really happened between you two?” “Umm… He was doxed? I doxed him?” “What? How did something like that happen?” “I guess I could say… I knew someone who spoke like him?” “And you knew who he really is from just that?” “Yes? But ma-maybe not? Huh. How the heck did I figure who he is from just how he spoke? That’s weird. That’s really weird…” “… Who the hell cares?!”

Kiryū interjected, severing our conversation. It seemed like he didn’t know where he was going and had to backtrack to us for guidance.

“Let’s hurry up and finish the damn game! That’s all that we should be focusing on right now!”

He was unnaturally worked up and visibly flustered. I can understand why. I mean, his face was all over the internet… But what if he never gets over it? Poor guy. Men sure have it rough in their thirties.

And so, we set off for the truck ending in this amusing yet awkward mood surrounding us. … Or at least until we get into combat again, where Kiryū and I returned to our normal selves. Hurrah, zombie games. Praise be unto zombie games. All hail mighty zombie games.

    “—Muahaha! See you bastards in hell!”

As we progressed on the canonical route, the windows on the fifth floor of a mixed-use building smashed open, freeing a bunch of NPC’s. The moment they hit the ground, they became emotionless weapons of war, attacking all the zombies around them, and throwing them into disarray. The NPC’s jump down one by one as I laugh manically, putting off Elizabeth.

“… You know, I had expected an expert on zombie games to be… cooler than this…” “You can’t beat them if you worry too much about looking cool, Liz.” “Have you considered whether I preferred to be called ‘Elizabeth’?” “But your name is just so long. Anyway, zombie survival games are complex, you know? Sometimes, you’ve gotta do crazy things to win.”

The new soldiers rushed the infected, handily defeating them. Since they’re a low-level mob, so I’m not worried about killing too many of them. They don’t give too much experience anyway. As soon as I said it out loud, though, Kiryū wielded his crowbar and went wild at the zombies.

“Ooh, impressive. You’re really swinging for the fences.”

Before I knew it, I was already awed by Kiryū. It wasn’t just me though. Elizabeth was equally impressed.

“Kiryū is quite well-versed too, I see… Zombie games are simpler than I had thought.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Liz. This happens all too often. They watch a god gamer play and think they can do it themselves too. But once they try it for themselves, they get their butts handed to them. Still, for someone claiming he’s never played this kind of game before… Kiryū really is seriously good.” “Mm.” “Ah, we’ll get bombed if we head straight here, so let’s climb over the rubble to our right.”

As I was trotting to the hurdle, I looked behind my shoulder to find Kiryū hacking away at the zombies as if he were possessed.

    “—There it is! That’s the truck!”

After climbing the rubble hill, we reached a plaza where the deuce and a half was abandoned. There’s no mistaking the flat dark earth behemoth as anything but a military vehicle. As the name suggests, it was designed to haul 5,000 lb of cargo.

“Let’s ride this bad boy all the way to the end.” “… Don’t you need the key for it?”

Kiryū, late to the party, ran his fingers along the truck and wondered about how to start it. He was dripping with sweat, likely from his killing frenzy.

“Of course, we need the key. That’s why it’s in your pocket,” I say as I plucked it out of his pocket.

“… Oh, that key, the one we weren’t supposed to get until the second week. That means the truck ending shouldn’t be open until then, too.” “That’s right. This isn’t a canonical ending, but rather an Easter egg, much like the so-called UFO ending.”

I stepped onto the running board, heaved myself into the driver’s seat, and stuck the key into the ignition.

“Oh, my. An ending in which the protagonist gets abducted by aliens? How amusing. I wonder if I can find a video online once I return home.”

As she says that, sparks rained down from the sky, igniting the buildings in our vicinity.

“S-Sparks are falling down on us all of a sudden!” “This cutscene plays once the key is in the ignition. It’s proof that my plan is working, so don’t worry.” “A-Also, another copy of Nick just appeared, and he’s terribly hurt!” “And he’s so much more handsome. Yep, that’s the Nick from the cutscene.”

I jumped off the driver’s seat to inspect this New Nick. Covered with cuts and soot, New Nick scanned his surroundings and suddenly started shouting in English.

＊＊＊ＥＮＧＬＩＳＨ＊＊＊ “N-Nick began speaking in English!” “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. He’s shouting something like, ‘Like hell I’m going to stay in this shithole.’” ＊＊＊ＥＮＧＬＩＳＨ＊＊＊ “And a middle-aged man just appeared, screaming something in English too!” “Like I said, it’s all good. He’s an NPC that only appears in this cutscene. And this guy is yelling, ‘I feel you, man. Ain't like we’re gon’ find survivors no more, so let’s skedaddle on out of this nightmare of a town,’ or something to that effect.”

I explained to Elizabeth beside me, as she curiously and attentively watched the two white men speak.

“… Hey, Sera? Why do they speak so monotonously? It’s completely different than in Glee…” “Oh, did you watch Glee as well?” “Back when I was still in university, I thought it would help with my English. It didn’t take long before I was hooked.” “Wow, how diligent of you. Umm, well, this sort of thing happened a lot when Japanese video games got localized. Even though they hired proper voice talents, for some reason, they still read their lines off a script. The acting was just awful in Resident Evil and those speedy blue hedgehog games…”

Nick clapped his hands, interrupting our chit chat.

“Ah, that’s Nick saying, ‘Let’s hurry on out of here.’ Alright, Kiryū, Elizabeth. Let’s hop in too. Of course, New Nick and the random NPC are planning to leave town, so we’ll have jack the truck before that happens. That way, we’ll be able to reach ‘You’ and the ending area. After that, then we can escape…”

Before I could finish, the world fell into darkness, accompanied by an odd screeching noise.

■ ＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊ ＊＊＊　　ＥＮＧＬＩＳＨ　　＊＊＊ ＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊

A reference to the cult classic Kowloon’s Gate, an adventure game from more than two decades ago. It’s not the author forgetting to fill in the English dialogue! In the original game, ＊＊＊ベトナム語＊＊＊(Vietnamese) would be displayed when a certain Vietnamese character speaks. (Yes, the voice acting was in perfect Vietnamese too.) It’s theorized that this was either simply a joke or that the developers didn’t have the resources to add a typeface with Vietnamese script support. How’s this for an obscure reference?

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /next/

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[amongwriters-archive]

11/11/11 tag game —

I was tagged by @alalawrites ; thank u!

❥ one — favorite line(s) you’ve ever written.

- one of my favourites rn is “her head ended where my heart began.”

❥ two — how did you come up with your story?

- okay, let me shortly remember....

flight of a warrior

well flight of a warrior was just elise manifesting in my head and me starting to get curious. who is that girl? why does she look so different? what’s her story? and so I started to tell it.

kingdom of thorns and arrows

this is the oldest story I have dhsjjs. while i was in sixth grade, my friends and i were obsessed with books and were talking about how to pronounce names. we talked about ‘gideon’ back then and one of them pronounced it very weird and wrong hdjdjd. and I was like ‘your pronunciation sounds more like a last name’ and then we started to daydream about a story we wanted to write together.

now we don’t talk anymore, not very much at least. they lost their interest for books and writing while mine just grew stronger and a few weeks ago I was like ‘I need to write that story’ and asked them if they were okay with it. they are and now I am completely changing everything sjskks

fallen like a god

actually, it wasn’t planned to be a greek mythology story. i wanted to write about shapeshifters and season spirits. and it should still be in the world of foaw. weird.

the land of crows and nightmares

tbh, I don’t quite remember. i was visiting my sister in the city she studied and lived in and we were walking around and then it hit me. it was quite inspired by frederic the great and time travel coz i love those books.

queen of night and soul

ouhhh my first lgbtq idea! i was really into spirit guides and yin yang at that time and it’s first name was “how the moon fell for the ocean” yes I watched atla at that time don’t look @ me. anyways, I came to chap one and it was shit so I threw off the idea and got the rest from a dream / walk home from school.

❥ three — do you often get interesting dreams that you then use to create a story and/or a character?

- well, I mostly have nightmares for some reason but if I get good dreams, they are affecting my stories. book two of kotaa (blood like water) is completely dream inspired.

❥ four — tell us 5 trivias about your WIP(s).

- i just say five trivias about foaw coz I am just at planning the rest :

1. never underestimate someone. just don’t.

2. scars have a meaning even if it’s isn’t obvious at first.

3. habits are the worst.

4. names !!!

5. think about everything. even about the things which might not be helpful.

❥ five — do you read fanfiction? if yes, link some of your favorites!

- i actually don’t read fanfics. I used to read a lot mlb ff but I don’t anymore. maybe this teen!lock fanfic ?

❥ six — favorite original character ever.

- EVER? uhhhh hard one, gosh. i think it’s cloelia. like i love this chick

❥ seven — do you remember the first character you’ve ever created? if yes, describe them the best you can.

- when I was younger i have always drawn little princesses and mermaids on papers and cut them out, gave them a name and played with them ignoring the thousand dolls i have. huh, I think those were my first, but like really created? i think it would be max gidgeon. he was an elf, had blue eyes and blonde hair, he had a sister and strange dreams hdjsjs

❥ eight — name 3 characters (not yours) that you love and 3 that you hate.

- love, hard : maxon shreave, cardan greenbriar, rhysand

hate, not hard at all: bella swan, emerson (hourglass), laurel (wings)

❥ nine — do you draw? If yes, do you draw mostly original characters/settings/etc. or fanart?

- yes i draw! mostly nature and original characters. or just random characters, for fun

❥ ten — how long does it take you to outline your novel?

- well... considering what u mean with outline. my outline is normally the first draft hdjsjs, and i am currently redoing that outline / first draft and I am at 2/5 hdjsjs. the very first outline /draft took me like two to four lunch breaks at school ( 90 to 180 min)

the outline / draft now takes much longer coz i am outlining every chapter kind of

❥ eleven — how long does it take you to write your novel?

- well, I haven’t finished one but i am quite good in time i guess! I am actively writing since january and have 53k words rn! i am planning 130k words tho but I think I could manage to finish that till end of next year! (if you think about it, in seven months more than 50k and the year isn’t over i think it’s realistic!)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

my questions :

describe your wip(s) in one word, one city and one colour.

what music genre fits your wip(s) best?

who would be the faceclaims for your main characters?

the best place to write? (not at your home?)

a place in a fictional wold you would live most likely?

choose an animal to be the gatekeeper to your world. why this animal in particular?

when would you like to have started writing? with what age?

the zodiac signs of your original characters.

a personality/ physical trait you give every of your character for some reason. (for example : everyone is loyal / has tanned skin)

deep dark writing fear?

describe your favourite character (not original) in one renaissance painting.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

tagging —

@farrradays @storyteller-kaelo @dancingwithwind @vandorens @theforgottencoolkid @omgbrekkerkaz @mybookisbad @disoriented-writer @vviciously @omniawrites @sorroways

[slothcritic]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Episode 1 Review

What the heck is that sword?

I have a good friend of mine who is into some… varied interests that I would not necessarily partake in on my own. She is responsible for introducing me to shows that I love such as Legend of Korra and Steven Universe, shows that I would have otherwise entirely ignored if not for her insistence on sharing them with me and having us watch them together.

So when she suggested watching She-Ra and the Princesses of Power together… Well, I considered for a moment how I knew absolutely nothing about this show, and then immediately after, I thought of this blog. Going in completely blind does seem like a good opportunity to tackle something new to review.

So, forewarning: I know nothing about this show.

I have no spoilers. I have no context or frame of reference. They mention the word “grayskull” which I believe is a He-Man reference, but I didn’t even watch THAT series, so I’m doubly in the dark for whatever possible tie-ins or references there may be to She-Ra. What you are about to read are my thoughts on a per-episode basis for what I’ve just watched.

With that said, we watched the first episode and I took some brief notes on my first impressions.

My most immediate observation was that these characters definitely have a strong sense of personality and spunk. Perhaps laid on a bit thick, but to be honest, I’m happy there’s at least something to grab onto that isn’t just a dull grey chess piece for exposition.

The series also strikes me as moderately pretentious. It feels too into itself, and I felt the presentation was a little suffocating. The initial mood and tone of the show feels like you’re already armpit-deep in some edgy dystopian fanfiction made by someone who spends way too much time on DeviantArt, complete with cat people and everything. But in spite of that, the animation seems graceful enough and the characters manage to have a distinct style without being painful to look at. Regardless, they definitely set up the first episode like you’re cannon-balling straight into the the deep end of a story that started long before the cameras began rolling.

The character darkshadow or whatever their name is didn’t strike me as anything special, besides serving as the “vaguely ominous mentor figure” - I’m guessing this is some kind of Professor Snape deal. It’s very obvious they want us to feel like Nightmare Jones over here is some kind of dark brooding figure but whether this is a subversion (like Snape) or just face value remains to be seen.

Somewhere not where the main characters are, there’s some kind of queen and her thick-set commander, who is also her daughter. This queen person annoyed me and this entire interaction felt very “young adult novel”, a real eye-roller. I got major Steven Universe vibes here. Not just because of the slightly reminiscent character designs (granted, I do feel this show has a better art style) or because of the color palettes, but because this is just the Diamonds all over again. I found this scene hard to enjoy in earnest or with a straight face, in contrast to the comparatively interesting scene with “blonde main character” and Catra.

No idea if Catra is a pre-existing character from another related series or anything, but… really? You name the cat-alien-monster-species girl Catra? What’s next? A moth-alien-monster-species named Mothra– Oh.

The spooky woods reminded me of Harry Potter. Though I found the claim of “no squad has ever made it out there!!” falls a little flat when three under-prepared children can just wander through it like it’s no big deal. I mean, okay, maybe a little deal. Maybe having your rank-and-file blonde soldier girl undergo a magical girl transformation to become an ancient Aryan goddess helps your chances of survival. Because seriously, am I the only one who noticed the blue eyes and blonde hair right away? Ubermensch, more like uberwomensch.

The plot and world building has a good hook but some lines of dialogue or phrasings are incredibly generic.

You are the chosen one! Yes, you! Completely random person! You must journey through the sacred unicorn forests and unite the magical elements of harmony across the land in order to restore balance to the universe and defeat the evil empire once and for all…

Though to be fair - I thought the opening crawl for Undertale was painfully generic the first time I played it, and that game ended being one of my all time favorites. So a generic, done to death a million times choice of words does not a bad story make.

What draws my attention most about this first episode, especially as we get closer to the credits, is the sword. That’s intentional, and it works. The story doesn’t show its hand right away but gives you enough clues to start making plausible guesses. There’s some idea of unity here or people being connected across vast distances with the help of this sword that I can get behind.

Conclusion

The story as a whole seems fine enough, but there’s no punch to the gut that gets me invested in it yet. My policy is that I give any show five episodes to make me want to continue watching it. For reference: One Piece, my current favorite anime, took five episodes. Doctor Who (Ninth Doctor) took five minutes.

Now, the first episode of any show is generally the hardest to get started with and the one of which I’m often the most critical. Who are all these new characters? What attachment do I have to them? Why should I care? Questions like that become easier to answer as the characters become more strongly identifiable in the next few episodes. It is not impossible for some shows to knock it out of the park on the first episode. This show did not do that.

Episode 1 doesn’t exactly have me foaming at the mouth waiting for Episode 2, but at least I have certain hopes and points of interest to keep an eye out for in the next one. The intrigue of the plot saves this episode from a lower score.

Score: 66

Passing Thoughts

I like Catra. She seems well defined and very clearly executed as a character. Not so much blonde main character girl.

I definitely missed a lot of stuff here.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | JuminxMC Good Ending Continued | Denial

***I think I'm finally back! We have finally closed on my house in Texas after months of issues, and my grandmother has been laid to rest peacefully next to my grandfather as it should be. Grieving comes and goes, but I finally feel like I'm getting back into the groove of life, so I'm hoping I haven't lost all of you in the meantime T_T. The final chapter of JuminxMC should be next week! I'll then take a week off to prepare for SevenxMC!

Don’t forget to subscribe to the email list for access to R-Rated Scenes and my monthly newsletter. You can support my writing on patreon and get access to my VIP Discord Server or other goodies like early chapter releases and hidden scenes. JuminxMC Good Ending Continued Chapter Directory ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

There was something so strange about watching this woman from behind a piece of glass. She’d been trying to trick my husband into taking down the entirety of the RFA as well as our guests, and when she hadn’t gotten what she wanted, she’d put my life and the life of our second child at risk. Rika. I bit at my thumb nail as I looked through the glass as her. V and all the other ‘Disciples’ had been taken care of and sent to treatment along with Seven’s twin brother. Not long after, Seven had taken his brother from treatment at the hospital and run off with him. Yoosung was distraught, and he was here almost every day with Rika. It wasn’t until I’d gotten a call from a concerned Seven that I considered going to this hospital, but he was right, Yoosung needed someone, and he couldn’t be there for the blond right now.

I wasn’t sure why the task had fallen to me, and I was technically supposed to be on bedrest, but my heart went out to the younger man. He was a member of the RFA and Jumin always said it was important to take care of your friends and fellow members were even more important. My husband was always so practical about this kind of thing. He’d insisted I stay home and simply have Yoosung come to me, but as soon as he’d left for work, I had one of the bodyguards take me to the mental hospital, assuring him that I wouldn’t tell my husband which of the guards it had been who took me there.

Zen and Jaehee weren’t much help really either since Jaehee was trying to deal with the media hailstorm and Zen was helping her with whatever he could. That was somewhat strange to me. Zen was a helpful man as it was, and he did hate how much work Jaehee tended to get piled on herself, but he was really going out of his way for her. Maybe there was something more there than met the eye, just like Seven and Yoosung. Other than Jumin and I, it seemed all of the RFA was off having secret relationships when it came to the public eye.

Rika was walking around aimlessly at the moment and then suddenly she slammed her fists against the glass. “I know you’re out there~ Please, please let me out! I have to save everyone from her! She’s a liar!” The doctors had mentioned that Rika kept attempting to entice them to set her free, had even tried to grab a nurse’s syringe and stab her with it to escape, but she tended to play word games, and she was blaming me for everything. This was part of why I felt like I had rocks in my stomach, even though I knew I only had our second daughter and a perfectly cooked lunch, as always. Yoosung seemed to be shutting himself off to only contact with Rika and Seven, and that could only spell bad news, because he was even starting to pay less attention to the redhead too.

I heard the door open behind me and turned to see the blond walking into the hallway, violet eyes falling on me almost immediately and then turning cold. “MC.” He didn’t seem at all like his cheery self, not even for a moment, and the way he was looking at me actually felt like it made my heart stop in fear for a solid few seconds. I put on the bravest smile I could manage. “Yoosung! It’s good to see you again. I heard you were visiting Rika and wanted to come see you.”

He actually narrowed his eyes at me. It was very likely that he believed whatever stories Rika was telling him, and if so, then there had to be some way for me to get Rika to tell him the truth? I’d managed it when I walked in on her talking to Jumin and foiled her plans. Of course, that would be some shock therapy, because her attitude was completely different when she wasn’t pretending, but maybe it would break Yoosung out of whatever she was telling him now? “Maybe we should both head in to talk to Rika?”

Yoosung’s eyebrows furrowed, but he just nodded numbly before walking to the door where a nurse was waiting to let him in already, I just followed along. “Just don’t say anything mean to her. She’s trying to get better.” For the first time that day, Yoosung had talked to me, and I counted that as a win even despite the fact that he was being supportive of a person the doctors were saying they were pretty certain had actually been fully aware of what she was doing when she kidnapped and drugged all of those people. I just nodded to what the blond had said.

The way Rika’s eyes lit up upon seeing Yoosung and then dulled as I walked in made me shiver to my core, and the baby jumped in my belly in response before I patted it and Rika’s eyes flashed between my belly and my face. “I see she’s still breeding. Her hooks are so deep into Jumin, Yoosung, why would you bring her here?” Her voice was so sickly sweet, and Yoosung actually sounded nervous and apologetic as he responded. “I’m sorry, Rika! Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s just a huge misunderstanding. You’re just sick, and you’re going to get better. MC will help too! She’s not like V.”

Right, I was painted as the bad guy from Rika’s point of view, V included, but at least Yoosung had the sense to believe that I wasn’t the problem and that was a start. How long did I sit there listening to Rika’s little pleasantries and fake kindness before she would start to slip in snide and rude remarks? Each time she did so, it was like Yoosung would emotionally recoil as though slapped. It hurt him to see her not getting better, because she wasn’t just sick, she knew what she was doing. That much was obvious, but Yoosung was so far in denial, clinging to the hope that she would get better and be the woman he’d once admired. Was there really anything anyone could do to break him out of that?

Suddenly, Rika grabbed Yoosung’s hands, leaning over the table and making frightened glances my way. “Don’t you see, Yoosung? She’s being so sweet, but she’s hiding the truth! MC is going to take you all away from me. It was V’s plot from the beginning!” Yoosung was about to shake his head and deny it before Rika let go of his hands and turned on me, trying to get at me from her side of the table as I scooted back in my chair as quickly as I could with my heavy belly. There was a loud booming noise as the door slammed open. This was too much stress for me, and I felt like I was going to hyperventilate before I saw that it was my husband standing in the doorway.

Jumin’s dark grey eyes slid over all of us, surveying the situation and looking like a supervisor barging into the breakroom. “That’s enough, now, Rika.” His tones were so dark and cold like when he had to reprimand workers at his job that it felt like my comparison was accurate. Yoosung stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he faced Jumin. “You can’t just come in here! She doesn’t want to see you.” That was true, he’d been barred by Rika, but then again. “She didn’t want to see MC either, but you brought her. You’re just trying to find the truth, right Yoosung? Except you’re trying to find the truth that you want.”

My husband’s observation was spot on and Yoosung made soft little attempts at protests before he looked between all three of us. “I just…Wanted…MC isn’t a bad person…” Jumin sighed heavily and crossed his arms, his fingers tapping lightly against his sleeves. I was certain that he had realized I was gone after trying to text me and not receiving any answer since my phone was off in the hospital entrance. His eyes slid over me, and I could see his displeasure, but he looked back towards Rika who was starting to make a fuss again, her eyes wild. “We’re the only ones who know the truth, Yoosung! Don’t you see?!”

Yoosung immediately made a move as though to comfort her, but my husband reached out and pushed him away from the now shrieking and panicking woman. That was enough to make Yoosung angry as he pushed against Jumin’s arm to get over to Rika, but Jumin ended up moving to hold the younger and smaller man from behind. “Let me go!” was mirrored by Rika shrieking for Yoosung to be let go as well until Jumin called out over them. “I said enough.”

The world quieted, and I simply sat there watching, my mouth completely dry. What could I even do? I was just a spectator at the end of the day. Rika had seemed to completely shed her veneer as she huffed and her eyes glazed over to that lightless look, her voice smooth and soft like syrup. “I simply can’t stand up to you, Jumin.” Yoosung had stopped fighting Jumin, but now dropped his arms from Jumin’s completely, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Rika?”

Rika picked at her wrists for a moment before she turned her back to us, looking at us in the reflection on the window. “Yoosung won’t leave me no matter what you say to him, so no matter how hard you try, he’ll always be mine.” Jumin let go of Yoosung slowly as he started to blabber. “Of course I won’t leave you, Rika. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.” It almost seemed like Rika was in some sort of mental break as she started to babble too, grating laughs interrupting every once in a while. “All my Disciples weren’t even as loyal as Yoosung and Saeran…I should have brought Yoosung with me too! But V wouldn’t let me take the RFA, that’s why he pretended I was dead! He ruined everything.”

At this point, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. Instead, I was watching Yoosung’s face as the denial was starting to shatter. It was almost impossible to keep denying the truth when she was spitting it out right in front of you. At first, he was shaking his head, mumbling that she was sick, but she’d replied that she wasn’t, that that was how she wanted it, her darkness that V had tried to get rid of or something of that manner, and Yoosung went silent. Tears built in his eyes, but he just stared in silent horror now. He took a step back, forgetting that Jumin was behind him and bumping into my husband who was watching with a stoic expression. Yoosung turned to look up at Jumin, looking over at me then, and taking off into the hallway through the still open door as the tears started to fall from those violet eyes.

All of his denial had been shattered, and I could hear him crying so hard as he banged on the hallway door to be let out. “We should go after him-“ Jumin sent me a glare that froze my blood. It wasn’t the norm for him to be so angry with me as well, but he clearly was. “I’ve already called Zen to take him to Seven’s bunker. He has to deal with his brother, but he can’t abandon Yoosung either.” Rika was still going off on her tangent in the background, only now realizing we weren’t paying her any attention, so now she lunged towards me in the chair only to be backhanded by Jumin, stepping back to hold her cheek. “Nurse!”

At his call, a nurse appeared almost immediately, but I didn’t get much chance to see what else was happening before Jumin took my hand and pulled me out into the corridor. He was gentle and careful as always, but his grip was tighter than usual, and he was silent until we got into the car waiting for us out front. “You lied to me and put yourself in danger, our child in danger.” His tone was so cold, and I put my hands over my belly. “You know that bedrest is just because we had such a hard labor with our first daughter, not because I actually need it.” Jumin just huffed at my explanation, fixing his cufflinks. His façade was up, but now it faded as he stopped messing with them. “Don’t you understand…I was afraid?”

I bit at the inside of my cheek, feeling a pain in my chest. Only I ever got to see him so vulnerable, and I knew that it would worry him when I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, but I had been so focused on helping Yoosung. “I’m sorry…Yoosung needed help…and I didn’t realize how much I would hurt you.” Jumin looked towards me, our eyes locking for a solid few minutes, saying things we never could verbally. This man loved me so deeply, needed me to help him know that the world wasn’t made up of only liars, that it was okay to truly care for other people and show them that too, and I loved him so deeply too.

With another deep sigh, Jumin scooted towards me in the seat, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest as he put his face in my hair. “Don’t ever do that to me again, MC.” Being in his arms felt so safe and easily made any stress melt away, even if I still felt horribly guilty. “Promise me.” Could I really promise that I would never do something similar? “I can promise to never lie to you again…but I’ll always choose to help people.” I could almost feel the little chuckle that didn’t quite escape his lips. “I understand. That’s the type of woman I fell in love with. I just never expected it to become such a problem. I’m almost jealous when you choose to help others over listening to me, even in my own route.”

At heart, Jumin really was just a big softie. I nuzzled into his chest, feeling our child moving around and taking his hand to place it over the baby as well. He splayed his fingers over my belly automatically, a familiar feeling and something he did daily. “But I’ll always come back to you. You’re the man I chose.” Jumin kissed the top of my head. “I’ll take better care of you from now on.”

He pulled away from me to look down in to my eyes. “And I’ll do the same.” On some level, it was almost ominous when he talked about taking better care of me, because I knew that would mean him trying to set new rules and stipulations out of fear for me getting hurt or something happening to his now happy family of four, but that was a challenge I would always have to deal with, and I couldn’t help but smile and give him a soft kiss. There was no denying that I loved this man.

Like this? Want more? Become a Patron ~Let’s Connect! FFC JuminxMC Good Ending Continued Chapter Directory

[summylise]

Erasing the Stigma: Fanfiction as Legitimate Form of Literature

Remember this post from a few weeks ago that got a ton of notes (which I am STOKED about)? Well...I just submitted the final draft!! I figured you guys would want to see what your responses amounted to so here it is!! If you’d like to share it with others (especially those who look down at fanfiction) go ahead!! I’d love to spread the word more~~

(Oh! and here is where you can access the original formatted with the works cited essay)

      Erasing the Stigma: Fanfiction as Legitimate Form of Literature

Two writers type on a desktop computer. One sits cross-legged in a dark room lit only by a single, smooth Mac surrounded by sheets of character references, thesauruses, dictionaries, and the occasional motivational quote. The other in a similar position but at their local Panera with nothing but their school laptop open to a few wikis, Thesaurus.com, and maybe some calming music. Both bite their lip as the words fail to transfer to screen. Both stress about the possible response to their pieces. A few hours later and they are ready to submit. The first contacts their agent who then contacts a few others. Days, weeks, months pass and the first writer still hasn’t heard back from their agent. The second author uploads their file as soon as they finish typing the last word, sometimes in an email to their beta (or their editor from the same fan-base), other times directly to the site. Days, weeks, months pass and the second author has already cranked out more chapters, received a handful of reviews, and has gained many followers. The difference? The second person uploaded theirs to Fanfiction.net and is looked down upon by most of society. There has often been a stigma associated with the term “fanfiction”, as if it was a disease or something others look down upon. Yet many see it as a creative outlet and something that allows them to fully express themselves in a way that formal writing or writing a physical book cannot. Some oppose the fact that fanfiction, stories written about video games, movies, television shows, etc., are forms of literature and say that reading and writing is not “real” reading or writing. They even may go as far to say that fanfics serve no outside purpose and has no content. While some stories may be lacking in the grammatical or logical correctness, fanfiction as a whole is in fact a valid form of literature, especially when compared to formal reading and writing.

In order to discuss fanfiction, it needs to be defined. Fanfics are stories that are written by fans of a certain form of entertainment (whether that be musicals, books, animes, television shows, movies, etc.)(Lammers and Marsh). Fanfic authors are not paid, do not expect anything in return (except for the occasional review or two), and write just because they like the show and have an appreciation for writing. The fanfic author, formerly known as epeolatryx on Tumblr, writes, “People don’t pay for fanfiction. Reviews are our currency. Thank yous pay for the effort we spend on the next one,” (Xambedo). Another difference comes in the form of creativity, or rather, starting with nothing versus starting with a pre-existing base. Instead of creating entirely new universes with brand new characters, fanfic authors use existing characters, settings, and plots from existing medias to generate their own stories. Some of these stories even become so popular that they end up published due to a uniqueness they had despite being based on something else. The After series by Anna Todd, a One Direction fanfic, began on Wattpad, a free, digital publishing service, and became a published novel that is going to be made into a movie (Contrera). Granted, Todd had to change the names of the band mates in order to avoid copyright infringement but this successful story still began as fanfiction. Other fanfictions include The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, Ella Enchanted, and many more that do not seem obvious to the naked eye. The only difference between stories on sites like Fanfiction.net and the ones listed above are that the second are considered “actual books” or “real reading” whereas the first are not. It all comes down to what makes up real literature.

Literature is defined as “any piece of writing that can claim that it has—in some way—artistic beauty” according to Richard Jewell, author of Experiencing the Humanities. However, he later states that items such as bullet points and grocery lists would not count as they are not artistic and are only meant to serve as lists rather than actual pieces. In his textbook, he states all of the qualities that make literature and claims that if a piece were to include those attributes, that it would be considered literature. Those three attributes are creative description, characters, and plot (Jewell). All of those are included in fanfiction which are just stories created using non-original characters. Based on these requirements, fanfiction would factually be regarded as literature. Not only does fanfiction count technically as literature, but the process is the same.

Fanfiction should also be viewed through a newer learning term known as the multiliteracy framework. Multiliteracies are forms of reading or writing that incorporate more than just a pen and an idea; they explain how different cultural mediums, forms of communication, and compositional variety come together to create a piece (Chandler-Olcott and Mahar 559). Three main branches of this framework can specifically be applied to fanfiction: multimodality, intertextuality, and hybridity.

Multimodality involves the “integration of various Designs such as visual, linguistic, and audio in one text…” (Chandler-Olcott and Mahar 561). In regards to fanfiction, authors often employ these three attributes in order to entertain their readers and make their story more enjoyable. In my experience as a fanfic writer and reader, we authors show pictures or fanarts that we have created or have had created for us, find music or sound effects to serve as the background to our stories, and alter their fonts to evoke a stronger meaning (such as italicizing thoughts). By doing so, we are incorporating many different elements into one to create a diverse and interesting final product.

The second concept is that of intertextuality. Intertextuality are the “relationships and references between and among texts. Fanfiction is the crossing of original ideas with those of pre-existing characters and features which, in a sense, is exactly what intertextuality is. The connection between two sources doesn’t have to be strictly between two written pieces; Chandler-Olcott and Mahar explain that it can also occur between fanfiction and reality. The authors describe a fanfic the girls they studied wrote that involved deep, psychological questions such as a woman’s place in the world and heterosexual relationships despite the girls still being in middle school. The authors say, “Viewing rhetorical moves like these from the perspective of the Multiliteracies framework helped us to appreciate how complicated, and even sophisticated, the girls’ fanfics often were,” (Chandler-Olcott and Mahar 563). The two fanfic authors were able to pull from different forms of “text” in order to create a unique and thought provoking piece by using the concept of intertextuality.

Finally, hybridity is the creation of new ideas by picking and choosing specific parts of different mediums and combining them in a unique and sometimes never before seen way. Fanfics tend to grab from many different areas such as different genres and different story structures. When I go to publish a work of mine on Fanfiction.net, it prompts me to select two different genres before I can continue. Much like published books, fanfictions mix many genres together such as adventure, romance, comedy, etc. in order to create a successful and unique piece. However, fanfictions differ from books immensely when it comes to story structure. In fanfics, there tends to be a lack of an exposition or any explanation, description, or background of the story; the author jumps right in (Chandler-Olcott and Mahar 564). Fanfic authors choose to not add an exposition because they know that their audience knows almost everything about their characters: their physical attributes, their history, their personalities, their hopes and fears (Chandler-Olcott and Mahar 564). By neglecting to include an intro and picking multiple genres with which to base their stories on, fanfic authors rely very heavily on the concept of hybridity. Creating a hybrid of literature tends to have consequences, though not the ones that society may expect.

Fanfictions are a new branch of reading and writing that not only counts structurally, subjectively, and scholarly as a form of literature but also, much like its published counterparts, leaves an impression. In my survey of over two-hundred people, I found that around 53.59% of respondents had connected with new people they otherwise would not have met through fanfiction, whether it was reading or writing. This is due to the collaboration and connection with authors and readers via the follow, favorite, review or comment ability on Fanfiction.net that allows people to say how a certain chapter made them feel, make assumptions on future chapters, and offer suggestions for future chapters. Social media also plays a role in connecting readers and writers. On the popular social media site, Tumblr, many fanfic authors publish their stories in order to further spread their work across their fandoms (or domains in which fans from the same genre congregate). This allows the fan-base to actually contact the author on a more personal level rather than just via the comment section.

In addition, fanfiction affect the connection between each other but it also changes one’s reading and writing habits. Motoko Rich’s claim that student standardized reading scores have steadily declined due to online reading (Rich 1). However, measuring one’s aptitude for test taking does not translate to their inclination towards reading. A psychology professor at Michigan State, Linda A. Jackson, agrees when talking about the results of giving low income students internet access: “[The students] were kids who would typically not be reading in their free time… Once they’re on the Internet, they’re reading,” (qtd. in Rich). I have also found that fanfiction actually increases a reader's want to read by means of the survey I conducted. 75.95% of respondents say that they are more motivated to read fanfiction than actual books, which in turn makes it easier for them to read more.“Books are a big time commitment for something I might not like. With fanfiction, I get something I’m already familiar with and will know I’ll enjoy, and they’re much shorter,” said a respondent to my survey. This is because in published works, the author has to include an exposition where they describe the characters and setting. In fanfiction, since it’s based on a world that already exists, the readers already know what the characters and setting look like so the author can jump right into writing their story. Reading online not only increases one’s wish to read, but also improves their writing as well. According to the study done by Jayne C. Lammers and Valerie L. Marsh titled “Going Public”, the young author they had longitudinally studied said that fanfiction had allowed her to stay anonymous and therefore felt more willing to share her works with others than if they had known who she was (Lammers and Marsh 281). By being anonymous, fanfic authors are able to express themselves and produce pieces that they otherwise may not have shared which allows them to further grow as a writer. A fanfiction writer who took my survey said the following:

Real writing, to me, is writing that makes us grow both as readers and writers. When I first started writing, it was through fanfiction. I was horrid at first. But fanfiction gave me a supportive, eager community to be able to continue producing work and subsequently grow into the writer that I am today. Therefore, I can confidently say that fanfiction is a valid alternative to reading and writing.

With the practice of writing fanfiction and support of the community, this author was able to make a name for themselves and eventually grow into the writer as seen above. A writer that may either turn into a published author or a fanfiction author.

[tveckling]

Well I just had a fucking awful dream that went from nightmare till adventure/nice good dream to nightmare again. Although my heart is actually beating normal hm. I was home in my hometown again, having moved back there I guess. And I had all these bad feelings, and then I happened upon something slenderman-ish that I managed to escape and then it ~turned out to be~ a small dog (but it wasn't actually). Since it was early in the dream I thought it was though and went on my way. As I was walking home it was almost pitch black and I hurried from street lamp light to street lamp. Then from the darkness around the lights there came the slenderman-ish thing again, but lots of them, and they were more like shadow material sorta? But in the spot of light I could fight back, using my own shadow to throw them around. And there was a guy in the street lamp light next to mine, and we teamed up and eventually the slenderman-ish shadows retreated from trying to cut us into pieces. And then typical dream jump, and I was with a slightly older woman who was taking me to the movies that all of sudden existed in my small fucking village (there is a convenience store, a pizzeria/restaurant, a florist, a veterinarian, a small but awesome library.... and that's it.. but dreams) in a.... incestuous big sister kind of way? Idek guys. It was weird. Especially since we were dating... And I can't remember exactly how but we were attacked again and the guy from earlier came into the place too, and a girl, and a guy who'd been doing this for a long time and who was supposed to be our mentor (I got my period which apparently was one of the signs of the big shit happening, and this kind of period would be the one where your whole lower body would be literally covered in blood and period yuck, and I was so pissed off that no one had warned me about it and I just got angrier at the mentor's attempts of 'but there's nothing we can do...' until I scared him bad enough that he did some magic thing that ~tied it up~. Literally took some small rope and tied it up around my little toe (which we were all a bit disgusted by considering the state of it...) to tie it all up) and after we had won there we were joined by three women we had seen around this dream town center who turned out to be veterans at this light-dark/good-evil thing too, and who had been ordered to remain and help my group. Because apparently the darkness in this town was much much higher and stronger than it should be, ofc. During this time, when the others talked about -stuff- me and this girlfriend of mine declared our love for each other, which? Apparently gave us... some sort of... upgrade in powers? Or something. We literally had powers in terms of levels. My group was at like level 3, while our mentors were all at idk level 40 or something. And our opponents were probably stronger idk we never got to that for some reason. But the thing was that hanks to feelings our powers could fluctuate, which was evidenced when I -as mentioned earlier- got majorly pissed off at all four of our mentors, and suddenly I had power in the level 45s iirc. And then immediately when I calmed down I went back to level 3. (I was ~unusually~ strong, that manner of power fluctuation was apparently very rare, and stuff, I'm the obvious hero of the story, I think as they discuss on and on) We were getting attacked almost non-stop, which made me pissed off again (and I was now smugly aware that I was ~the chosen one~ or something) so I went to the window and picked a fight. Basically telepathic fights now, for some reason. My ~love~ was behind me and giving me strength and later on fighting too, so we kicked a lot of ass. Until the ~real darkness~ dudes showed up. Was surprised by the level of power I/we possessed, but they also have fluctuating power shtick and since they began at like level 50 instead of level 3.... well, I managed to give one of them a nosebleed, and then they handed me my poor newbie ass to me and we had to escape back to the group. This was basically the end of the pleasant story. Because after that the ~darkness~ attacked for real (and while it was all happening it was fucking scary but now that I'm awake and remember the couple faces of the evil guys..... I die..... because I have been watching hbomberguy's videos on YouTube, and he has this special small circle of anti-feminism/anti-diversity/anti-who-the-fuck-knows/anti-Anita Sarkeesian youtubers that he often mocks (which they deserve... sweet fucking lord... and one of them was a Swedish guy that I will not hesitate to punch if I ever happen to see him in real life, fucking coming on the Internet and shaming my country like that fuck off).... and these guys were the ~forces of darkness~ *dies laughing*)(one of them, bald guy with an actual fucking "psychologist chair" that he uses in his super pretentious and racist and sexist videos, he actually had fucking devil horns sticking out on top of his head and was all demonized in the face I kid you not. Scary as fuck when happening, incredibly amusing afterwards) And suddenly we're somehow at my house, and we're surrounded by these ~forces of darkness~. We can make barriers, the.... 8? Of us, but only what we see and we have to stick together (no one going off alone and dying here nope). And since it's a pretty big house they break in here and here, until we're fucking forced into my fucking bedroom (the state of which is surprisingly clean and empty and such, thanks for small mercies I guess). There was a small boy outside that ran around and was going 'I'll get help!' And we went 'ffs random boy GET BEHIND US JFC' but he ofc was grabbed and we heard painful screams as he died. And apparently the demon things can't break through the barrier at all if we.... lock the door, and keep away from the edges of the room so they can't horror-movie reach through and pull us out. But that's ofc the time when I have to admit there's no fucking key to my bedroom door.... And the bald demon MRA breaks off half the door and does a very good impression of 'here's Jackie' which freaked me out so I focused all my power on just him, managing to give him a small nosebleed. And he scoffed and grinned even higher at my attempt. And it was so clear that our barrier would be broken at any moment, and we were all going to die, and holy shit guys the terror- And then I woke up. Yeah. There was also a subplot with a couple of the guys (although there was only... one guy in the group? And he was neither of them. Idk. Dream) one of which was cursed to have everyone love him until it eventually would lead to someone killing him to get him to themselves or a bunch of people ripping him apart to get a piece of him, or some other equally not-fun death. And the other was cursed, almost by the first guy's curse?, to be hated by all the people who loved the first guy - if the second guy showed any hint of interest in the first guy. Yeah. A fanfiction plot, with characters just appearing for this subplot. Idek guys. Idek. .... it doesn't sound as scary now afterwards, but trust me, in the dream it was all real and fucking shit-your-pants terrifying.

[overthinkingfeathers]

I was tagged by @hollyand-writes to do the 2016 writing review. I am exceedingly boring and wrote like 5 things, but I do pretty much anything if tagged, so let’s do this. 

Total number of completed stories:

5. When I said like 5, I meant literally 5, and they’re all one shots. 

Total word count:

5! No, ok, 7,405 words published on at least one site. I have some WIPs, but those don’t count. 

Fandoms written in:

Mostly Dragon Age 2,but I have one Mass Effect one. I guess you could make a case for the D&D character one being for D&D. 

Looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? 

Considering I haven’t published any writing at all in years and had never written fanfiction, I guess I’ll go with more. This is going to sound terrible, but I don’t usually have expectations; I'm not a consistent writer by any means. Like, I tagged my first fic with # Feathers writes #Like twice a year so don't look at me, and that was not an exaggeration. 

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

Um. Without rereading anything I’ve written, I’m going to go with Sunset, which, incidentally, is my first fic. 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

This is a tricky question. On one hand, I have the self esteem of a dead snail in regards to my writing, so publicly sharing anything at all is always kind of hard. Also, I’m weird about people I know in real life reading things I’ve written, and I’m always concerned they’ll somehow find out. 

On the other hand, short of potentially getting my delicate ego bruised, it’s not like I have anything to lose. 

Do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year?

Write more in general and write more consistently, I guess. I’m tempted to reblog some of those prompts now and then, but we’ll see. 

Best story of the year?

Ok, you can’t ask favorite and best and most popular. Two out of three. 

Most popular story of the year?

The most popular on Tumblr was Sunset; the most popular on AO3 was An Unexpected Friend. 

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I feel like Never Be Alone wasn’t that bad, but it garnered the least amount of notes/comments/kudos of everything I posted to both Tumblr and AO3. 

Most fun story to write:

Um. I enjoyed speed writing my untitled D&D one, but that’s largely because I love the character. It’s composed of run on sentences and is definitely in need of editing, but honestly I wrote most of it while playing, so I’m not too fussed. 

Story with the single sexiest moment:

I wrote exactly zero romantic interactions, so gonna go with none. 

Most sweet story:

I am just going to pass on this, because there’s a point in which I cannot keep linking the same three fics over and over again. 

“Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you!” story:

Pretty sure I wrote exactly nothing that surprised anyone, so none. 

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

Me? Write stories that require me to think? Unrealistic. 

Most unintentionally telling story:

I mean, I hate to write none again, but I don’t think any of them revealed things I don’t already share freely. 

Hardest story to write:

Standing Guard Against Nightmares gave me the biggest issues. I always struggle with pacing and endings, but I feel like it shows the most there. Also, titling things is not something I do well, and that’s pretty obvious too. 

Biggest disappointment:

My Mass Effect fic sat at zero comments/kudos for well over a month. It’s not hugely surprising, honestly; I occasionally reblog a Mass Effect thing here, but it’s definitely not the primary fandom I’m in, so the Tumblr posting gained no traction. Meanwhile on AO3, it’s a very short story by an unknown writer in a popular tag. Still, by the time it eventually got one comment and kudo, I knee jerk assumed those were out of pity until I got over myself. 

Biggest surprise:

Standing Guard Against Nightmares got really enthusiastic tags on a reblog, which I wasn’t expecting. It was really nice. 

Tagging:

No one in specific, because I think most of my writer mutuals have already done this or tend not to do this kind of thing, but everyone should feel welcome to. 

[crowsent]

On Creativity

I’ve always liked writing. And since I’m working on bolstering my confidence, I’ll go ahead and say that I’m good at writing. I can use unique voices, switch perspectives, write decent fight scenes. By all means, I can write well.

But writing’s also a hobby. I don’t write because I have to. It ain’t an obligation. I’m allowed to enjoy what I do. I’m allowed to use words to escape this world and live in a different one, even for just a few precious moments. Forget Earth and forget me; I can be a Quirkless boy struggling with his identity, I can be a young woman struggling to master her Semblance, I can be a half-ghoul juggling my own concept of morality with a world that tells me that my existence is apprehensible.

I can be allowed to break away from the identity of LOSAS and be someone different.

Writing is fun for me. I enjoy it, I enjoy seeing ink on the page or words on the screen. I enjoy spinning out a thread and watching a tapestry come to life. And after years of doing it, that tapestry is pretty damn good. It’s got colours, clean lines, and a compelling vibrancy that makes others look.

But I’m not the only person who enjoys writing.

Someone might write and write and never be satisfied with what they create. John Doe can build a planet of ash and cinders and tear it all down because it’s grey and flat. Jane Doe can paint a human being and kill it in a single sentence because of a flaw that threw the whole story out of rationality.

Alex might spin a thread and create a tapestry of their own. But there is no life, no colour, and muddled stitches that obscure where the line ends and another begins.

And all these people should still be allowed to create.

Just because I’m good at writing doesn’t mean that I should be the only one allowed to write. It doesn’t mean that other good writers should only be the ones allowed to write.

We don’t have one giant inkwell and pen and pass it around like the olympic torch.

We SHOULDN’T have one giant inkwell and pen and pass it around like the olympic torch.

People should be encouraged to write. Everyone should write at LEAST one story just for kicks, shits, and giggles. Who cares if your story is about a majestic unicorn who discovered the meaning of friendship because of an overly persistent frog that sang off-key to them for three whole pages? Make your story about a soldier who had his entire family murdered and is out for revenge. Make it about your OTP making cookies at ass-o’clock in the morning.

WRITE.

For one, it encourages creativity and creativity, I think, is one of the most beautiful things about human beings. Sure, as a species we collectively fucked over the Earth, drove some species of animals and plants into extinction, and created a system that fucked up the economy and squandered the morality and softness of our people.

But we also created organizations to try and rectify these problems we created: wildlife preservation efforts, shelters, food drives. We break and we make our mistakes (HA) but we also try so so very hard to fix them and learn, and move forward.

Creativity, I think, is more than just building a planet of ash and cinders or creating your own human conjured from the depths of your mind. It’s self-expression, an outlet for you to express feelings that you normally wouldn’t be able to put into words.

For me, words are how I express my feelings. If I tried talking to an actual human being face to face, I’d accidentally bite my tongue and die over the pronunciation of the word “pronunciation”. But when I write, it’s easier. When I write, I can look at everything that’s wrong with our planet from an objective standpoint and simultaneously remind myself that it’s not the end.

I am much better with written words because it gives me time to think and revise. I can’t do that in real life. I can’t pause a conversation and proofread the absolute bullshit I am about to spew from my mouth.

But some people are much more comfortable with speaking. Where I express myself with flowery words and purple prose dense and loquacious to the point of idiocy, some people like to use their words, hear themselves speak to others and see the faces of everyone who listens to them.

There was a man I knew who we shall call ‘Vaughn’. Now, Vaughn wrote, not as much, not as confidently, but he wrote. He was always hesitant when sharing his writing. So was I, but that was a product of my social anxiety and not my lack of confidence in my work.

Vaughn did not have this social anxiety. He saw his work, his prose, and genuinely believed that it did not compare to others. Never said it aloud, but when he read prose, his feet fidgeted, he held the paper (or computer) in front of him to hide his face, and he spoke faster and faster, as if trying to get the words out so he wouldn’t have to speak. And when he finished, he’d sigh, nod and smile at the reception, and hurriedly urge all of us to go next.

That’s only for prose though.

Near the end of the year, he gave us all this big performance; slam poetry.

And let me tell you, I was fucking enthralled.

If I heard his poems on a street, his delivery, the way his voice shifted with every word and how he moved almost like I dance, I would fucking listen to every word. Even if I was late to work, or even if my arms were laden with groceries, I would fucking stand on that street and listen with my jaw on the floor.

Pretty sure I didn’t breathe during his performance. It was amazing. And he had a lot of fun. His leg wasn’t fidgeting, he didn’t cover his face. He owned it.

It’s obvious he has a passion for writing and performing, and speaking until his voice was hoarse.

And he was a damn creative man.

A creative man who, for some reason, felt like his prose wasn’t as good as his slam poetry. Which, okay, I’ll admit, I enjoyed the poetry better, but it didn’t mean that his prose was bad. It was just rough around the edges, like mine, like everyone in that class.

So I thought, why the fuck would a man this dedicated to his craft, this passionate about reciting a poem that grabbed my fucking soul and booked it, this excited to share with us his creation, feel as though his prose wasn’t good enough.

With his poem, he was very open to criticisms and praise alike. But with his prose, he seemed resigned and withdrawn, like criticism was the only option. Of course, I was curious and my social anxiety got strangled by my curiosity and it was silenced with a garotte because I just HAD TO KNOW.

When I asked if he would be doing anymore writing after that year, without that specific class pushing us to write everyday, he said, with the certainty and confidence of a man who had a noose around his neck: “Yeah, but I probably won’t write prose anymore.”

And his reasoning. The reasoning. “I’m not good at it.”

Okay. Fair enough. Some people don’t enjoy writing prose and prefer other forms of creative self-expression. Maybe he just prefers slam. Maybe he wasn’t that into prose.

But I heard this man, this beautiful, brilliant, creative man, go into a spiel about his work. How he planned to write it, the dark twists he’ll take. His one goal in prose was to make his writing creepy and edgy. And he was so fucking excited about it. Big smile, bright eyes, the excited hand movements that almost took out my glasses in a one hit knockout.

I refuse to believe that a man this excited to talk about his work wasn’t interested in writing.

That got me thinking: why in the fuck would he stop doing something he clearly enjoyed doing?

The question eventually shifted to this.

Why do people stop creative pursuits?

Why do people stop writing angsty poems and edgy creepypastas?

Why do people stop making up silly songs in the shower?

Why do people stop painting their rainbow sparkly OCs?

Why do people stop OC/Canon shipping?

Why do people stop cosplay?

Why do people stifle their creativity?

This of course, ties back to the first paragraph I’ve written. I enjoy writing. I’m good at writing.

John and Jane and Alex enjoy writing. They don’t live up to the standard others have for “good” writing.

I am encouraged to keep updating that fanfic I have.

They are encouraged to stop. Find something they can do better. Move on.

Why does my writing, considered good by other people, give me a pass to keep writing while others who don’t meet that standard are encouraged to stop?

It makes absolutely no sense. A crab doing the macarena makes more sense than that. A cheetah that’s slower than a snail crawling through molasses makes more sense than that.

Why should we stop people from creating? From exploring their minds and expanding on their interests?

Why is it, that when it comes to writing, or drawing, or sewing, or literally any creative pursuit, we only endorse it when the person is “good?”

If creativity is about self-expression, then the quality shouldn’t matter. I should be allowed to write even if the first word I ever put to page is “Y’all’d’ve.” If I want to make my fanfic about my OC being swept off her feet by a hunky, glittery vampire, then by all fucking means, I should be allowed to write.

No one should be telling me to stop writing.

Creativity is a part of us, something intrinsic and unique and just as integral to our development as a person. It doesn’t have to be writing either.

Someone singing terribly off-key to their favourite song at a karaoke bar should be allowed to sing off-key to their favourite song.

Someone who makes cat-shaped cookies and had the batch come out like a monstrosity from hell should still make cat-shaped cookies if they want to.

Someone who writes with shifting tenses, has no concept of verb choice, and utterly butchers canonical characterizations should still be allowed to write.

As someone who does write fanfiction (plus other things) and publish them, feedback is important to me. Without it, I can’t grow as a writer, and I enjoy talking to all the people who take the time to comment on my latest work.

But I am not obligated to keep up the quality or coherency or consistency of my fics.

If, at some point, I decided to take the plot in a direction way the fuck out of left field, I can do that. I owe no one an apology. I wrote the fanfic, I choose to do what I want with it.

It’s terribly unfair for people to commandeer what I can and can’t do with my writing just as it’s unfair for people to commandeer what people can and can’t do with their creativity.

Let’s take singing.

I enjoy singing. I like to sing. I enjoy taking popular songs and butchering it to hell and back.

I am not a good singer.

I can’t hit high notes.

I can’t hold notes.

I have next to no control over my voice.

But I love to sing. And I should be allowed to sing. Just like how John and Jane and Alex should be allowed to write.

We look at Creativity not as something to do for fun, but as something to do for productivity. Why bother creating your own alien planet if it’s full of inconsistencies? Fuck all your feelings and the happy endorphins releasing in your head, this planet’s not good enough.

Fuck that OC you just wrote out the whole backstory for, it’s too damn edgy and not written with enough nuance.

Yeah fuck you.

At no point in time should you ever attempt to police a person’s creativity. It’s something that’s for THEM to explore. To discover. To enjoy.

Think of all your favourite shows, your favourite music, your favourite plays. All of that happened because of creativity and hard work. You see critically acclaimed novels with the accolades and praises. You don’t see the first draft with the dozens of lines rewritten in red ink. You don’t see the first drafts with entire pages crossed out.

People don’t churn out masterpieces in a day.

And even if they did, that should not be the standard. There shouldn’t be any standard to creativity.

If you want to try out knitting for the first time and end up with a mess, then congratulations! you tried out knitting for the first time. If you enjoyed it, then go make yourself another knitted item. Clothing. I don’t knit so I wouldn’t know.

People should stop assigning value to their creative pursuits. Sure, it’s fun when people give your compliments, but it’s also fun to let loose and just enjoy yourself.

I just talk about writing a lot, because it’s what I’ve done for years and something I can do confidently. I’m not perfect, there’s still some bumps, but if you ask me if I can write better than I can draw, I will nod my head so damn fast it’s going to roll of my shoulders.

That said, I should still be absolutely allowed to draw even though it’s been 84 YEARS AND I STILL DON’T KNOW HOW TO DRAW A HAND

Creativity is something that we should embrace. Even if what we create doesn’t turn out ‘good’ or if we’re not happy with it, we should still create and create and create.

It’s a good stress relief. It opens up our minds to new worlds, new possibilities, new passions, new hobbies. It can be used to talk to people. It can be used to improve yourself as a person. It can be fucking used for unorthodox solutions to some of your problems. Thinking outside the box.

And even though I can not, for the life of me, hit a single god damn note in Hamilton’s ‘Satisfied’, I will still sing the fuck out of it when it comes on in my playlists.

And even though Vaughn’s prose didn’t flow as well as his slam poetry, he should still continue to write if he enjoyed it.

It’s not about being good at it. It’s about having fun while you do it.

TL;DR: Let people be creative