#whoops I dumped this into my drafts so here this is it might not even be spoilers anymore

[queenbirbs]

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 14

Sorry about Sunday's empty post ☹️ I must've accidentally put a draft template in my queue because I am basically tired and rubbish and life isn’t the greatest right now. Anyhow.... Whoops and really sorry again!

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Eddie POV

When neither Steve nor Robin show up after ten minutes, Eddie begins to freak out. 

He, Hopper and El are still waiting for the car, out of sight among some ferns. Hopper’s getting antsy, muttering beneath his breath, while Eddie’s wriggling like he’s got ants in his pants. Which he genuinely might have, though that’s not what’s bugging him:

“Uuuuh, shall I see what’s taking them so long?”

“You do that,” says Hopper. “What’s going on with that guy? He could barely stand! How the hell could he…”

Eddie tunes out, retracing their journey into the trees, calling Robin’s name then Steve’s. Maybe Steve passed out, and Robin got lost searching? Somehow, he doesn’t buy it. A heaviness slows his feet, and his guts twist sourly. 

They wouldn’t just ditch him. Surely? Surely!?! 

Fifteen minutes later, he winds up where he started: “They’re not back?” 

“What do you reckon?” Hopper’s breathing hard and red in the face. Evidently, he’s been running in circles like Eddie has.

“This is for you.” El nudges Eddie and presses a scrap of paper into his hand. “I think Steve left it.”

“What? Where?” Eddie’s stomach clamps tight again. 

Her eyes stretch very wide. “Fell out of your pack.”

Turning the note over in his hands, his fingers stiffen, as if shrinking from the task, bracing for… something. In the event, he gets a literal slap around the face.

“You make me sick,” Steve wrote.

Eddie’s skin burns with the blow. Wow! This is why I never have and never freakin’ will write love songs.

“What does he say?” demands Hopper.

Eddie scans the note one more time, scrunches it in his fist. “I’d hazard a guess he’s gone back to Hawkins.”

“Goddammit! Robin’s gone with him?”

“I think that’s a safe bet.” A wobble in the back of Eddie’s throat finds its way into his voice. Because, boy, is he still processing.

You make me sick. 

What does that even mean? To be fair, Eddie did make Steve sick. More than once. But why the heck write… that. Would suck less to be dumped without a word. 

Thanks for the overkill, man.

“Don’t you even think about scooting off,” growls Hopper. “Your uncle would never forgive me.” 

Oh yeah. Wayne. The only person who ever actually cared about him.

Eddie plonks his butt down on the ground and waits for the car.

…

Steve POV

“C’mon, giddy up,” says Steve. He and Robin make their way along the muddy bank of the stream towards home.

“Is this some kind of race?” she asks. “While I’d forgotten your former life as a douchebag jock, you’re doing a stunning job of reminding me, and… Uuuuugh!” 

“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong this time?” He spirals about, plants his hands on his hips—he’d ditched the sling a while ago. 

She scrubs madly at her lips. “I swallowed a bug! Ugh, ugh, ugh, mega-gross. Eeeeurgh!”

“Maybe if you weren’t complaining, like, constantly, there’d be less opportunities for bugs to get in.” 

“You shut up, shit-bird! I could die of malaria.” She spits into the stream. “Ew! EEEEEEEW!” 

“Ssssh! Hop said the military will be crawling everywhere soon, or—”

“Eddie might hear?” His heart heaves a loaded thud. She looks back sharply, purses her lips. “You know, he could be lost in the wilderness, all alone. Being hunted by evil army thugs. Or bears! Did you think of that when you sauntered off?”

“I did, yeah. I left him a message saying not to follow.” He shades his face from the afternoon sunlight, which shafts between the trees. Also, he can’t look her straight on and say this: “It was kinda brutal, I guess. It was for his own good, right?”

“Oh. Riiiight.”

“You done spewing insects?” he snaps.

“Still heavily grossed-out here. Gimme a minute, ’kay?” She plonks herself on a rock, crumpling forward.

He mops his brow, strips his sweater, and takes the opportunity to check in on his bat bites. They’re still sore, the bandages a bit bloody. Nothing too fresh, though. For the billionth time, his thoughts fly back to Eddie. He hopes Eddie doesn’t get hurt and need healing while they’re apart, and… Holy shit, will he ever see him again? He ties his sweater around his hips, trying to make fumbling hands look casual.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Other than the fact I’m modelling a ‘shoot-me-now-why don’t-you?’ Hellfire Club t-shirt,”—and that I want to punch myself in the face about that moronic note—“I’m good, Robin.”

“You know what? I don’t doubt it.” She brushes her flyaway hair from suspicious eyes. “You’ve gone from death’s door to super-human speed in, oh, I don’t know—feels to me that we’ve been marching for a week. I think it’s been barely an hour.”

“Yeah? We got a long way to go then.” He starts off along the stream’s edge, forcibly slowing his pace. He senses her puffing, panting, then following on his heels.

“Look, Steve, this water goddess who’s pulling you back, whispering in your ear—”

“I can’t actually tell if they’re male or female. Does that matter?”

“Not in the slightest. So, your water… deity. Have they, by any chance, enlightened you as to some kind of divine plan? Or told you exactly where you’re heading?” 

“I got an idea where I’m going, yeah.” To the second place he died, swept away on that blood-red tide—even now, he sees it in his head, like a few frames of a horror VHS stuck on eternal repeat. “Where’s the best place for army generals with dodgy agendas to hang out in Hawkins? There’s never been an army base, apart from—”

“You’re kidding me?” She grabs his elbow, jerking him back. “The Soviet tunnels?” He nods, and her obvious dread has her dropping him like a stone. “No way! I don’t think I can go anywhere near without a major panic attack."

“I’m not gonna march straight in.” He’s already wandering on. Trouble is, now he’s said the idea out loud, it’s become real and terrible. And he’s gotta pretend like his blood’s not congealing to ice. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get in anyhow. I mean, the Starcourt lift is buried under a ton of rubble. I think Hop might’ve know other ways—”

“Oooh, I got a great idea. Let’s go back and ask him.”

“Yeah, real subtle.”

“Steve!” She seizes him again, twisting him around with a furious force. “I know you want to help El, but what can you ACTUALLY DO?” He shrugs before he can stop himself. “Rain? Lightning? How does that benefit us—especially in underground tunnels? Plus you’ve had literally zero time for practice. If we don’t slow down and come up with a decent plan, this is tantamount to suicide.”

“We? Seriously, Robin, I…” His teeth clamp his lower lip. Any moment now, he’ll tell her how terrified he is, how he really, really doesn’t want to get tortured again, let alone die; how the idea of anything bad happening to her is as frightening as any of it. “I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Steve,” she says, gentler now, though her grip gouges into his flesh. “It’s screamingly obvious you’re not thinking straight. You’ve been ill for days and now you’re in a funk, beating yourself up over Eddie.”

He yanks himself free, glares. “That doesn’t make any dif—"

“Bullshit! Trust me, however ‘mean boy’ your literary masterpiece got, Eddie won’t want you to do anything this dumb. Oh, and your resident gender-fluid angel saved your life. They’re not gonna want you to sacrifice it pointlessly.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. He laughs—not a particularly happy laugh, but not totally miserable either. “You win,” he says, kinda sagging with relief. “You got a plan, smarty-pants?”

She laughs with him, equally edgy. “I say we go to Lover’s Lake, wait till it’s dark. If that’s too dangerous, we find some hidden pool where you can practise whatever badass moves you think you got. Hopefully without the puking. It’ll be a bit like Band Camp. But for Magic. Magic Camp. Okay?”

“You really aren’t gonna be happy until I’m a bigger nerd that any of… Shit!” 

He’s been considering hugging her. Instead, he seizes her sleeve, dragging her down into a deep, wet gully. They land with a splash, crouching low, close. She doesn’t complain, because she’s heard what he has.

The distant sound of barking dogs. Likely, army search dogs.

“Dog barks travel for miles, huh?” he whispers.

“Possibly.” She sucks in a scared breath. “One thing for sure—those sniffy wet snouts can pick up a human scent from the next county.”

“We’re in a stream, Robin. They can’t pick up our scent here, right?”

She crinkles her nose, dubious. “Dogs’ sense of smell is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope this bunch caught colds or something.” 

He’s now the one clutching her way too tight, and he half-wishes he’d ditched her with a bitchy note too. Though, not quite. She smart; he needs her, and she’s really has gotten him thinking clearer: 

“We head for Lover’s Lake. C’mon.”

…

Eddie POV

When the sound of the car engine finally reaches his hearing, Eddie feels almost nothing.

“Don’t move.” Hopper pitches Eddie a forbidding look and grabs El, keeping them low behind the ferns. 

An owl hoots. Despite the hollowness in his chest, Eddie silently cracks up. Seriously? Top secret government goons can’t think of a better signal than me and Robin? 

Hopper’s grip slides to the firearm at his side. He rises slowly. “Over here.”

Peeping between the foliage, Eddie can make out a limo-style saloon with blacked-out windows. A severe-faced woman in lethal stilettos climbs out. “Chief Hopper, I presume? I apologise for the delay. O’Sullivan’s got men everywhere. We must leave right away.”

Hopper, nevertheless, remains stood well off the road with Eleven, not rushing for the car. And Eddie? 

You make me sick.

Steve’s made it simple for him. He should cut his losses and take this chance of escape. Wayne would want him to. Apart from… Eddie literally can’t. What was it that Steve said? Oh yeah. That he was being stretched in the wrong direction. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, I’m feelin’ it, Stevie. 

Nothing supernatural, nothing hinky. You kill me that bad, Babe—even after you turned meanie-King-Steve and dumped me. Oh, and went back to goddamn Mordor without me! 

Gonna trust you had your reasons, and I’m coming anyway.

He turns on his dirt-clotted heels and flees as fast as he can.

Part 15

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

[painted-crow]

Hey I hope this isn’t awkward but that post about your burned badger (lion?) secondary really hit home for me. I’m pretty sure I’ve had the same burned model in the past - I think I started off with a healthier badger/lion model (I can’t figure out which and am still figuring out my sorting anyway) and some external life stuff going on later, I’m really just pushing through and getting stuff done with all the delicacy of a brick. And same here with the emotional rollercoaster ... 1/2

And same here with the emotional rollercoaster of it between panic/apathy. And the burnout. And the ignoring physical pain. And I can see now how this was uh. Pretty unhealthy actually but it really was just so. effective especially given the circumstances and I kind of miss it in a way. It would be nice if I could get back a healthier version of whichever model it was. Anyway I love reading your blog you always have such insightful things to say thanks for reading this ramble <3 2/2

💙💙💙 :D

Not awkward! I'm glad that was useful for someone, rather than just being an angst dump on my part lol

Emergency secondary mode, Badger or Lion?

Links to previous posts:

- post describing my emergency secondary mode (cw for burnout stuff)

- the worst version of this post (cw for terrible memes)

So, after a lot of consideration and chatting with some lovely SHC people (looking at you @mooglesorts and you @magpie-of-a-birb), I've come to the tentative conclusion that I have a Lion secondary performance.

Which is not something I ever expected to say! I've long had a knee-jerk "aaaaa scary!" reaction to Lion secondary, but actually I think that's because I have this performance and I've had to use it in unsustainable ways.

I should probably put a trigger warning here for self harm through overwork... yeah.

So, I found this song:

(While it is a bop, it is also x2 trigger warning combo for self harm ahaha)

This song's primary is exploded Glory Hound Lion--that's not what's relatable about it to me tho. What I wanted my friends' opinion on was the secondary that's displayed here. Sounded familiar. So I brought it up on the SHC Discord server (which is out of beta, dm me for an invite link if you wanna join!).

I was thinking it might actually be the fully Burned "anything that works" secondary, but Magpie was like "no, that's a Lion sec with a Snake model" and I went "huh..."

...and then Moogle was like no that's a snakesec with an unhealthy Lion model, the masks aren't working so they're busting out Lion--and especially there's the focus on the character feeling powerful because they can hurt themself with it and keep going anyway

And I was like "oh shit that tracks more than I was expecting it to... whoops"

Badger hits different without unhealthy pressure

I do have and use a Badger secondary model, and I used to think my emergency secondary mode was just my Badger model taken to unhealthy extremes. But I don’t think so now.

First, because I actually think that my emergency mode is/was often a product of my exploded Badger primary model, which itself idealized Badger secondary.

I'm still picking through that thing's shrapnel and finding its influence in old memories and automatic reactions I still have and stuff like that--not to mention rooting it out of my system. Which is to say, now that I know what I'm looking for, I'm still discovering how far back this thing goes! Turns out I've been trying to whack this piñata for years, and it used to be so much worse.

The self-destructive "I'd rather run myself hard into the ground than fail" nature of my emergency mode makes a lot of sense in retrospect. When you tie your self-worth to achievement... well: the lyrics "I'll never lose / I'll never die" from the song seem less "I have achieved immortality!" and more "I basically equate failure with death." This song really straddles that edge of relatable but also obviously messed up. It's... something.

Second, my Badger secondary model is very different when it's not under pressure from the 'splodey primary model. I'm kind of having to figure out what it's like without that and it's weird. It seems to be a whole lot more chill and also I'm getting more Courtier than I'm used to?

Yeah, turns out if you dig out "you should help other people to justify your existence, but don't accept help back or it cancels it out" from your system (because damn, there's a system piece I didn't look at closely enough) it might have been holding up Courtier potential you haven't been using.

What's the difference?

I don't know who pointed this out first, I think I read it somewhere, but Badger secondary is very process focused and Lion secondary is very results focused. (Bet you this was from @wisteria-lodge. I'm not sure, though.)

Badger usually shows up as a few main things for me: mirroring, chipping away at big projects, picking up life maintenance and self care type tasks (especially when Bird secondary is burned), and caregiving/service stuff. It can also Burn on its own, which is its own brand of "motivation is a cryptid" exhaustion. None of this looks like Lion, so where does the confusion come in?

The only time my Badger model starts to look like Lion--and here the line really blurs with the performance--is when I've tried to get it to do tasks it's not really meant for. There are things I need Bird unburned in order to tackle (perhaps it's the presence of burned Birdsec that gets in the way? That injured confidence can be really debilitating) and I can't do them with just Badger.

I'm sure actual Badger secs know how to, say, learn Adobe Illustrator's unbelievably complicated controls while under deadline using Badger, but I have no clue. I powered through using probably the least efficient controls possible. (If you're using the nudge tool as a form of measurement, you're probably doing it wrong. I'm guessing.)

Needless to say, that's exhausting. I think there's some point in the project timeline where it stops being "well it's not efficient but at least I'm making progress!" and starts being fueled by raw stubborn determination and a little bit of spite. The contentment with the process goes out the window. I'm fighting my own perfectionism (and usually losing) because I just want this thing done.

Which, that's not necessarily a bad thing! Sometimes it's really useful to be able to go "screw it" and charge. It becomes a bad thing when you ignore all your other needs to do it, possibly because you've tied success and/or productivity to your self worth, and also you're still clutching your perfectionism and hissing "my precioussssss."

also:

It's not always obvious, but I sometimes use Lion secondary in ways not connected to the splodey Badger primary model.

(Occasionally it is obvious though... haha)

I do have this one story about realizing my younger brother might be in danger and charging off to find him, armed with a heavy wooden coat hanger against potential assailants. I went from Bird situational analysis to "this is the best weapon I can find on short notice" in like 30 seconds. In my defense, I was very sleep deprived at the time.

(It makes more sense in context.)

(Sort of.)

so.

I think the emergency secondary mode is a Lionsec performance.

This post took me like a month to write even after figuring it out. And then another few weeks collecting dust in my drafts, because how do you edit something like this

But I've been sitting on it for way too long and I'm tired of saying I should finish/post it, and tonight I'm feeling bored and a little impulsive... so, screw it--I'm calling this done.

(can you hear it? it's there... fighting my Birdsec/Badgersec model perfectionism again.)

(this time, I will listen.)

[delvalentine]

draft dump

was going to be a boxer au! reader/kageyama. i had a fight scene written and thought it'd be a pity to just delete it without at least giving it one goodbye :,)

“Why the fuck am I even here if you’re not going to listen to my advice?!” you shouted.

“Yeah. Why are you here?” Kageyama spat to the side, ignoring the stain of the red globule against the mat. He glowered at you so intensely you felt a cold shock of fear shoot down your spine. “I never asked for your help. What could you possibly do for me?”

“You’re not the only one that’s been boxing their whole life, Kageyama,” you warned lowly, irritated by the patronizing tone. He rolled his eyes.

“Right. As if I’d respect somebody who’s never even gotten a point to their name.”

“…fuck you. That’s it.” You turned around, pointing at the first person you saw. Mr. Takeda stiffened in your glare. “Get me a pair of gloves.”

“Uh—I—what?” he stammered, clearly flustered. You immediately moved on to the person standing beside him, his brow furrowing. “What are you planning?” Sawamura asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You were already raking your hair back into a tight bun. “I’m going to school him.”

“What are you talking about?” Kageyama sneered, raising his eyebrows. “Co-ed’s against the rules—”

“Does it look like a give a shit about the rules?” You snapped. You hopped out of the ring, calling behind you as you stormed into the back room. “Where are my gloves?!”

“She means business,” Sawamura whistled. He chuckled wryly to himself as he crossed his arms. “This’ll be good.”

“What d’you mean?” Hinata asked eagerly, looking around the room. “Is it really okay for [Surname] to fight Kageyama?”

“You already know she’s Ukai’s niece, right?” Tanaka replied as he and Asahi walked over, wiping sweat off of his head with a white towel. “Her dad was the champion. She learnt from the best of the best.”

“I wanted to verse her!” Nishinoya groaned suddenly, bouncing up from the ground. “If I’d known she’d be okay facing us in the ring, I would’ve just asked. Frickin’ Kageyama got the jump on us.”

“No way would I go up against her,” Tanaka retorted, shaking his head. “After the ass whooping Ukai Sr. gave me, I’m not touching any one of their bloodline. Christ.”

“Cheers to that,” Sawamura muttered darkly, a flash of old pain clouding his eyes.

“But still, she and Kageyama aren’t matched in the right weight class…” Asahi, always fretting, hugged himself. “Shouldn’t we stop them?” “Stop talking about me like I’m going to lose!” Kageyama barked, annoyed that everybody had ignored him.

“Dude,” Hinata snickered in glee. “You’re so going to lose.”

<center>---</center>

You hopped on your feet, testing the give of the mats beneath you. Firm and slippery, bouncy under your heels. You’d done one of your wrists with tape yourself, but Asahi offered to do the one of your non-dominant hand.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered, tearing the last strip off. You gave him a look before shoving a fresh mouthguard in.

“Fou’ll shee.”

The gloves had such a familiar weight to them that for a second you just savoured what it was like to stand here. The smell of harsh rubber. The tight feeling of everything bundled up as you readied yourself in anticipation. The positive thrum of electrified blood in your body. It was like you could feel every last nerve… despite the excitement, you were completely calm.

“I’m not going to go easy on you just ‘cause you’re a girl,” Kageyama warned, fastening his own gloves. You snorted, stopping yourself from replying.

Sawamura had kindly gotten into the ring as ref and glanced at the both of you. He nodded after seeing the two of you ready.

“Three rounds, 60 each, thirty break.”

Kageyama didn’t even bother looking warmed up, merely giving you a cold glare. You levelled it back, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Start!”

Immediately he took the centre, just like you thought he would. Being at a height advantage, it’d be stupid of him not to. You circled around him, eyeing his body.

“Is that all?” he jeered. “You’re just going to keep walking ar—”

While he was distracted you shot forwards, delivering a firm jab to an open spot of his waist. It winded him enough for you to hit him with an easy One-Two. He staggered away from you. Sloppy. It was an easy step to follow in. Your fists made quick work, snapping past his gloves. Your wrists ached from impact and your arms burnt. You were a bit out of practice, and you were woefully out of shape, but the pure satisfaction you got from seeing the shock cross Kageyama’s face fuelled you.

He seemed to finally wake up to the fact that you meant business and shot out with a strong hook. It was predictable from a mile away and you rolled it. Another double. You stepped back and waited for him to walk into another two. His head jerked back, and you almost felt his nose on your knuckles through the foam.

“Time!”

You went to your corner, picking up a water bottle, draining it over your burning scalp. A minute never felt so long. Hinata passed a towel up to you, his eyes gleaming.

“You’re kicking his ass, [Name]-san!”

“He ain’t happy,” Nishinoya snickered, leaning into the ring. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel the eyes on the back of your head. You doubted they could see your expression with the mouthguard in, but you were grinning.

Round two begun with Kageyama far more serious than he was in one. He was finally realizing how he’d underestimated you. He swung in heavy out the gate, basically on you the second Sawamura stepped back. Your eyes were ringing and your ears were blurry—holy fuck. You’d never taken a hit so square in the face like that.

Kageyama followed with a quick hit to your chest. The pain jerked up your arm, waking you back up. You raised your glove and absorbed a punch. He stared at you and you stared back at him. He’d left the inside open and you dipped forwards, twisting your core. He fell onto his knee, scrambling to stay upright.

“Ten!” Sawamura cried, whistling sharply. Kageyama got back up. You cocked your neck nonchalantly. Even though your body was in fact screaming and you thought you might puke, you at least had to look tough. Fake it ‘till you make it. Your father had always said that the relaxed boxer is the victorious one. This ain’t for you, Daddy, but it’ll sure as hell make you proud.

Kageyama started using his superior strength on you and you felt your back thrown into the ropes when he managed to hit through your block. If he wailed on you, you’d never make it. You probably wouldn’t win this by points anymore—you had to flip it on him.

You bobbed out, quickly regaining your footing. Your eyes scanned his face through the tears of pain. If you feinted, you could win this. But you’d have to take another KO worthy throw to the chest. You had no idea which it’d be until it came at you. You could hate him all you like, but his form was outrageously good. A simple jab never hurt so bad.

Numbing the pain, you immediately came in for the body. He clearly hadn’t expected you to lean forwards so quickly and staggered back again. Maybe it was pride, but he didn’t seem to plan on taking back his word and attempted to shuffle away instead of pulling up a block. You squatted low. It’d be his downfall.

An accidental grunt of exertion left you as you twisted your body, fighting to use even the muscles in your legs. Your fist connected so easily with his chin it was like it was meant to fit there. Kageyama caught air and fell right onto his ass, rolling onto his side. There was a moment of shocked silence filled only with your gasps for breath.

“Ten,” Sawamura stammered out, remembering his job. You shuffled back into a neutral corner. “Nine. Eight. Seven… six… five… four…” Kageyama wasn’t stirring.

“Three.”

His head lolled on the ground, his arm twitching to find purchase.

“Two.”

He turned his head just enough to face you. You caught the awe swimming in his eyes.

“One… knock-out!”

[8requiems]

A Webcomic Review of “Garden Club Detective Squad”:

Oh God Oh Fuck did someone just die?

By: 8Requiems

The Description:

“Gardening and solving crime aren’t what straight-A student Yeon Han thought she would be focusing on at her new school. But when she discovers a notebook that contains clues to a 15-year-old murder mystery, she and the other members of her new gardening club realize the murderer not only has access to the school -- they probably work for the school. Can the gardening club squad figure out who committed the murder even though the principal and their teachers seem desperate to cover it up?”

Now, this description is quite detailed, maybe a bit too detailed.

This comes down to personal preference, but personally, I don’t like seeing the plot in thorough detail before reading the story, especially if it is a mystery.

If it were me, I would write the description as:

“In her attempt to not become a backwater girl, Yeon Han eventually decides to become the President of the Gardening Club. But she’ll soon realize that maybe she might have bitten off more than she could chew”

This description may be a bit rudimentary, but it shows an idea of what my ideal description for this webtoon would be.

It says just enough about the story while also leaving enough to imagination. But the current description at present shows what the first 3-4 chapters are. Had the description not even mentioned the teachers, I probably wouldn’t have considered they were trying to cover anything up to begin with.

That being said, I did read chapters 1-3 of the webtoon blind. And I have to say, I didn’t expect the unassuming colorful cover of this Webtoon to show such menacing and dark panel off-rip.

(A panel from the first scene in Chapter 1)

But, let us familiarize ourselves with the cast, shall we?

Characters:

Yeon Han - The Brain:

Yeon is an honor student who moved outside of Seoul, presumably due to not having enough money to stay. Despite this turn of events, she doesn’t want to become a “backwater girl”. For the sake of her academic record, she decides to settle on becoming the class president. But her peers are just amused at how cocky she was despite being new to the school.

(A panel in the middle of Chapter 2 ^)

When that fails, she decides to settle on becoming the president of an after school club. But forget becoming president, they wouldn’t even allow her to join on the basis that she is too qualified. BRO, THE LITERATURE DISCUSSION CLUB HAS THREE MEMBERS. ONE INCLUDING A BODYPILLOW FOR FUCK SAKES. Part of me wanted to laugh but part of me also felt insulted for her.

I expected her character to be the “genius that finds a niche that she enjoys compared to other activities they would usually dominate at”, but she is already fed up with how hard gardening actually is. Not to mention the amount of faculty and students who ask favours from her.

It was a very pleasant surprise, because now I can rightfully assume that while she works on her cases, she might pick up skills from the gardening club. Dare I say, she actually comes to appreciate and enjoy it as a hobby? I guess only time will tell, as this is still a very new Webtoon, with 12 Chapters out as of this review’s conception.

The one thing I have on my mind at the moment, is if her range of skills she currently has will be useful when tackling the murder case.

Whether or not that is the case, I have high hopes for her as a character.

Mirim Shin - The Spiritual:

Although I said I have high hopes for Yeon, I think Mirim is my favorite character. As the daughter of a priest, she is in tune with her spirituality on a whole other level compared to her club mates. 

An interesting tidbit about her is that she decided to practice all forms of faith before her baptism. I can only assume it’s so she could have an idea of what could have been, before deciding to lock in on one specific faith.

Honestly, I genuinely didn’t expect for her to say something like this, not because it sounded ridiculous, but because up until that point, it felt like her spirituality was just a running gag that came with her character.  

It was nice to see her character expanded upon, and I hope the other characters get the same treatment, even if it is only brief.

Baekji Kang - The Muscle

Then there's Baekji, who easily wins in cool factor. 

I can’t say much other than that in addition to being a part of the garden club, she is also in the Judo club. Although the story doesn’t technically address it, I feel like she fills the role of pseudo-leader / Vice-President of the club. 

She’s cool.

Saessak - The Green Thumb’d Romantic?:

Ssaesak is a soft-spoken girl who attends to the garden's needs as one of the two members of the garden club. 

She is unexpectedly a romantic, being interested in bad boys.

I only found her annoying for a brief moment because it seemed like she was going to hold back information on her latest crush, Hyeonsu Jeong (the lunch guy), before finally finding the resolve to give a possibly game changing piece of evidence to Yeon.

She’s alright.

Execution:

Despite the mostly positive things I have said in this review, my first impressions of Garden Club Detective Squad were more negative in comparison to the opinions I shared at present.

When I read Wizard of Arsenia, I had overblown expectations because my editor Nen had already recommended God of Bath, a webtoon I have now come to really appreciate. I assumed I would love it in the same way.

My expectations were what held me back from what I usually do best: Sit down and just enjoy the show. Granted, I still hold opinions about it that I believe hold back the story, but the opinions were way fairer than what I could have said.

This time around, I made a similar mistake.

I decided on my own to read Garden Club Detective Squad for this review, and held expectations for the mystery element of the Webtoon, which was reinforced by the first panel I showed in the review. Thankfully, even if the webtoon didn’t live up to whatever expectation I had, I know that I could still appreciate it for what it was because I just went with the flow. At worst, the mystery could come across as contrived.

(A panel from the first scene in Chapter 1)

That being said, somehow, I was disappointed. Even a bit annoyed 5-7 chapters in. Disappointment is one thing, but why was I annoyed?

At first, I was thinking it was because the story had a problem with how it presented tension. After all, the webtoon is categorized as a mystery, so I criticized it as such.

In my original draft, I wrote the following: 

“The webtoon is categorized under mystery, but I don’t really feel the urgency of the case whatsoever. I feel like I am getting whiplash between moments that I feel are supposed to be serious and moments that are just ‘slice of life’ hijinks.”

I hadn’t taken into account that, although it was a “mystery”, it functioned more like a “comedy”, like God of Bath.

I feel as though the Webtoon was miscategorized. I use God of Bath as an example because it could have easily been categorized under “Action”, because of the Ttaemiri battles. But despite these battles, because of the way dialogue is presented, it is understandably under the comedy genre. Moreover, the action was more of a vehicle to tell the stories and values of the characters themselves. In other words, even if you were to take out these action elements, God of Bath would be fundamentally the same.

But according to my logic, does this mean that if this webtoon didn’t have mystery elements, it would be fundamentally the same? 

No, and I do not think it would be the same if the webtoon didn’t have the comedy elements either.

To be perfectly clear, just because I think Garden Club Detective Squad is a comedy, it doesn’t mean that I think it shouldn’t present mystery elements, or vice-versa. But I wish Webtoon could at the very least categorize it as both a “mystery” and “comedy”.

Who knows, maybe my opinion will change as more and more chapters get uploaded. Or rather, I hope it does.

Personally, despite my position towards the webtoon being a comedy, it isn’t all that funny.

And as of the currently uploaded chapters, I think the mystery is all right.

In my opinion, what makes a good mystery is having all the clues presented to the characters and the reader to be able to solve the case. To understand 52chu’s take on mystery, I’ll break down the first suspect, Hyeongsu. Take this scene the beginning of episode 6 for example:

This scene is trying to insinuate that Hyeongsu is the killer. The dramatic irony of this scene, Saessak’s photo of Hyeongsu dumping bones in the garden, and the story deliberately pointing out that there are no cameras in the cafeteria/garden area are the three pieces of information the story provides to help the indirect claim.

(A panel from Episode 8 ^)

(A Panel from Episode 9 ^)

(A panel from episode 8 ^)

But it was all a misunderstanding. Whoops, my bad. “I was just trying to help you all”.

(A panel from episode 9 ^)

It's almost comical how much the plot just wanted to frame Hyeongsu, I can’t help but laugh.

All forms of evidence lead to Hyeongsu, except the fact that the bones were the remnants of ribs from past cafeteria specials:

(Panel from episode 9 ^)

(Panel from episode 9 ^)

If you were able to pick up the possibility, then great. But somehow, Hyeongsu’s mini-arc just fell flat for me. Whether you knew this one detail or not, it feels like I’m going to be dragged from suspect to suspect in the future. Everyone one of them will be the “killer” except for that one contrivance that makes them innocent. Honestly, I firmly believe that it isn’t any of the faculty.

You know what, here's my Trademark 8Requiems theory. The culprit is Chair Juyeong. 

(A panel from Episode 6 ^)

I don’t mind the club reaching dead ends, but if there aren’t elements that could at least help me identify who the real culprit is, I doubt I could enjoy it as much as I’d like to.

Conclusion:

Reading and understanding this Webtoon has been somewhat of a ride. Although it is still ongoing, I have mixed feelings on whether or not I want to continue reading. But despite the gripes that I have with it at the moment, I think I will continue reading it just to see where 52chu takes the story.

You will likely enjoy this Webtoon if you like stories where the plot focuses on the reader having fun with the misadventures of the cast.

But what do you guys think? Do you think my criticism was unfounded? Do you think it really *IS* a mystery, and that I am looking at this Webtoon in the wrong light? Talk about it in the comments below.

And as always,

Arrivederci Brothers. May you attain your grain.

[agwitow]

Hey there's two parts to this. My first question is How do you handle writer’s block? Writing can be an emotionally draining and stressful pursuit. Any tips for aspiring writers? Bonus Question How do you deal with emotional impact of a book (on yourself) as you are writing the story?

Hi Nonny, thanks for asking!

Okay, so... I have thoughts about this, and that might make this answer a bit, uh, longer... than you were expecting. Sorry in advance if you were wanting something quick.

Right, so. Writer’s Block. The boogeyman of writers everywhere. We hear people complain about it all the time, there are tons of guides to beating it (I’m even writing an entire book about getting yourself unstuck when it strikes), and everyone will likely give you a different answer as to why it happens and how to beat it.

To my way of thinking, this is because there are several different types of writer’s block. Too Many Ideas, or Not Enough Ideas, or Mental/Physical Exhaustion, or Written Into a Corner, or Bogged Down By Details, or Missed A Step

1. Too Many Ideas

While this might not sound like it’s all that bad of a thing (how can a creative type have too many ideas?), it can actually be really frustrating to deal with. Sometimes it means you keep getting ideas for new projects, and sometimes it means you keep getting new ideas to squeeze into your current project, and then sometimes it means you keep thinking up different ways to tell the current story.

Ugh. Well. Silver lining, your creative juices are certainly flowing. But that doesn’t help you get any writing done.

So if you’ve got this type of writer’s block, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is to have a notebook or word doc (or something along those lines) to jot down all the ideas as the come to you. You can even have a separate document for the ideas that pertain specifically to your current project. But the trick here is that as soon as you write the idea down, you push it aside and ignore it.

This can be hard to do at first. New ideas are soooo shiny that you can’t help but want to play with them. So it can help if you set aside a bit of time every week to go over all the ideas you’ve jotted down. Just make sure it’s a time that’s distinct from your writing time. Once you’ve gotten into the habit of this, then the flurry of ideas will no longer hinder your writing.

Alternatively, you can try channeling all that extra creativity into another art form. Especially something big and messy ;) 

2. Not Enough Ideas

When people talk about experiencing writer’s block, they’re usually thinking it’s because you don’t know what to do next in your story (i.e., that you don’t have enough ideas), but this is actually pretty rare. Usually you’ve hit that block because of one of the other items on this list.

But, when it is because the well has run dry (so to speak), then it’s like trying to start a car with a dead battery. And just like that, you need to grab some jumper cables and give it a boost.

Do some yoga, go for a walk, listen to music, watch the clouds drift by, go stargazing, get your heart pumping, read poems that make you cry.

Basically, you need to shake things up. Drag yourself out of the rut you’ve found yourself in by doing things non-writing related. Not only is that good for your general health, it’ll recharge your creativity.

3. Mental/Physical Exhaustion

This type of writer’s block has probably become the most common over the last year or so. It is dang hard to be creative when you are mentally and/or physically drained. This can come about because of stress, lack of sleep (literal exhaustion), pain, injury, illness, or lack of self-care.

The most important thing with this type of writer’s block is to remember that it’s okay to take a break. Your mental and physical health is more important than completing a writing goal.

Give yourself the space to rest, and your creativity will return.

4. Written Into a Corner

Let me tell you, I’ve fallen into this one a lot. It sucks, and it can take awhile to figure out why it’s such a struggle to write. It usually happens when you are determined to have a specific event or sequence of events play out in your story, but your subconscious is recognizing that the scene/event/storyline doesn’t fit.

If you can’t seem to figure out how to connect your current scene to where you need to go next, then it’s very possible that you should remove the current scene entirely, or completely rewrite/change it.

You might think this only applies to pantsers (people who write without having an outline first), but it happens to plotters just as frequently. It’s not about a lack of planning, it’s about not realizing that the way you’re forcing the story doesn’t match with some other part of it. Maybe because of extra world building, or research, or character development, or lines of dialogue three chapters back, but whatever the reason, it’s made the current scene not-quite-fit.

This is okay. It’s not a failure of planning or creativity or you as a writer. It just happens sometimes.

Go back a scene or two and rethink how to get to the next plot point. Can you rework the troublesome scene? Do you need to remove it? Replace it with something else entirely? Whatever the solution, it’s okay. Your story will be better for it.

5. Bogged Down By Details

Along the same line as the previous one, this kind of writer’s block often leaves you unsure of how to progress to the next scene. The difference here is that this time it’s because you let the narrative point of the scene become lost in the minutiae. Maybe it’s a big info-dump, or maybe you let the characters get sidetracked by sightseeing, or maybe some random supporting character has been elevated to having a three-page monologue.

Whatever the cause, you’ve tried to cram too much information into the scene and now it feels weird to connect it to the next one.

Read over the scene and identify what information absolutely needs to be there for the story to progress. Is there any information that doesn’t need to be there, but is good set-up for something later? Keep those bits. Everything else you need to cut.

Yup. Sorry.

If you really like the information or dialogue or what-have-you, save it and see if you can work it in to other parts of the story in small bits. A little extra world building here and there can really make a story feel alive. It’s when there is too much in one spot that it becomes a problem. 

6. Missed A Step

This one is almost the opposite of the last two points. Instead of having too much, or conflicting information, you’re missing something. For me, this is usually a rewrite/edit writer’s block phenomenon, but I’m sure there are lots of writers who experience it during their first draft too.

Basically, in your hurry to get from point A to C, you forgot all about B. Whoops!

If you’re writing (or editing) and the scene feels disconnected or like you’re having to do a lot of flashback-style inserts to get the reader up to speed, then you probably need to add something to a previous scene, or add a new scene altogether.

Usually this one (at least for me) doesn’t feel as much of a ‘block’ as the other types, but more like I can’t move forward until something is resolved. That something being the missing info/scene.

So yup... there are different types of Writer’s Block, and how you deal with it depends on what type it is. You might find that you experience one type more than the others, or that you experience a different type that I didn’t describe (in which case, please share). However you are facing off against writer’s block, just remember that it isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a sign that something needs to change.

As far as tips for aspiring writers go, I’ve answered a couple of different asks about that sort of thing before, so (to keep this from being monstrously long) check those out.

For your bonus question... I just let myself cry when I need to, or bounce around after the scene is written, and/or do some light sparring with my partner to work out the anger/stress afterwards.

Emotionally charged scenes are rough, but so rewarding. Keep on writing ‘em :)

Thanks again for asking!

xoxo

[quagmireisadora]

hello :) I was wondering, i read your fic titled eomoni ( in hangul ) on AFF long ago and it was so good *-* , recently, i wanted to read it again but it's said that the fic is in draft status :( is there something wrong about the fic? and is it okay if i requested for a reupload? >

A/N: Hello! I’m really sorry it took me so long to respond to you, but I finally found some my old stories. Here’s the fic you requested:

------

His hand stroked the six month belly, closing his eyes as if to memorize its shape, its size. It had become a habit for him-- a way of showing his endearment for the child growing inside of his wife. Six months of life, it had experienced. Six months of existence. How tiny and pure that number seemed, when compared to the life awaiting it outside. Was it aware of the people waiting to welcome it with great expectations?

She giggled, "You love doing that, don't you?" It wasn't an objection, for her hand joined over his, stroking over the bump with her caring touch. The day was slow and they lazed in their bed, quietly enjoying each other's arms. If she could, she would fall asleep surrounded by his warmth, but sleep was far away and she'd much rather have heard his deep voice rumble next to her cheek.

"Why shouldn't I?" he frowned, craning his neck to look at her. His hand stopped its circular motion and he was about to withdraw it, but couldn't quite talk himself into it. It felt too good, their closeness. Half his face sunk into the soft pillow and his cheek pushed up, making him look child-like. She snickered at his expression, cooing.

The sun wasn't too harsh today, just the right amount of light echoed off her sharp features, enhancing her beauty four-fold. The glare danced on their ceiling, being cut and splayed by the patterns of glass on their windows. True beauty existed in this moment, and he would carry the memory of it forever. He brought his hand up to her and turned her face further toward him by the cheek, smiling back when her plump lips curled at him.

"He's my son," he added in a low affectionate whisper.

She scoffed, lightly slapping his hand away. "She's our daughter, okay?" she asserted, raising an eyebrow and looking away. "Trust you to not even know that much, Kibum." These little tiffs had become common in the past month. The fact that they'd abstained from asking the doctor about the sex of their baby only fueled their juvenile arguments.

He scoffed back, still lying on his side and childishly folding his knees up to his chest, pouting. "How would you know that... ?" he mumbled out.

She shot him a look of incredulity. "What do you mean how would I know?! She's growing inside me, of course I'd know! If anyone shouldn't know it's you!"

"Yah! I'm his father!" he persisted, stubbornly.

"Her,” she corrected before a retort. “So?"

He sighed and slowly rolled his eyes in exasperation, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Talk about drama…” he muttered lowly under his breath, shaking his head.

“What,” she barked, hormones taking control.

“OK, OK” he relented, raising his palms, hoping to pacify her. He took a deep breath and waited a moment before answering. "But you wait and see--our son will be very handsome. Very skilled and powerful and super cool and... and awso--"

"Meaning everything your not?" she playfully teased and chuckled. She loved when he spoke of their child and its future. And maybe he knew how she liked his words, because he did so often.

"Yah~!" he groused, gently pushing her shoulder.

She hissed. "Bummie, don't. I don't like that."

He shot up onto his hands, worry coloring his features. "Sorry, sorry...!"

Junghee continued smiling sweetly, her teeth pushing into her lip like they always did when she looked at her husband. "No, don’t be," she said, raising an arm up to touch his cheek in a soothing gesture. 

“Are you.. OK?”

"As long as you're still here, I'm fine." 

Kibum's lips stretched sadly, his hand resuming its previous motions on her stomach. "I wish I didn't have to go away so soon, though..." he muttered, eyes on the floral pattern of her loosely pooling dress.

She sighed. "I wish you didn't have to go at all," she answered. "But you do. And that's alright, as long as you come back." She bit her lip harder, willing her hormones to co-operate just this once, willing her vision not to flood with tears that held him back.

He simply nodded. "I should get ready, actually, they'll be here in a while." He withdrew his gaze, withdrew his hand, withdrew his heart, trying not to stay too long so it would hurt a little less.

"I-I packed you some canned fruit... " she choked out, hoping he didn't hear the lump in her throat rattling around her every word. Making an effort to get up herself, she saw him rush around, putting on parts of his uniform one by one, dragging his small bag out and dumping it over other the threshold of their bedroom door.

"Yeah, thanks." He hid his face from her, busying himself as a distraction. He didn't want to leave, and he prayed for some insane turn of luck to complete his wish-- prayed that the phone would ring and they'd say he was getting a few more days, if not weeks, off to be with his family. But none came. He heard Junghee as she moved off the bed with some trouble.

"You should rest. Don't exert yourself," he suggested in an intentionally hardened voice as he opened and closed drawers, cupboards, locks.

"A-and there's a little sketch-pad I found lying around, a few days back," she went on, regardless. "You might feel like drawing me something while you're... yeah." She couldn't bring herself to complete it. Junghee refused to face the fact that once again, her husband was going away for duty, and once again, she'd have to stand here all alone and wave at his disappearing back.

Whoever said it was right: Love in the time of war is not fair.

If she could make him stay, she would. If she could bar him from going, she would. If she could find the heart to and make him change professions, she would. But life is never so simple. Life is never so kind. Junghee clasped her hands on her stomach, holding them together as if in silent prayer. Leaning on the wall and closing her eyes, she heard Kibum walk around with final preparations, unaware of the torrential thoughts in her head. Blissfully unaware, is what she thought.

Suddenly there was a small point of force in her lower belly and she gasped in surprise-- loud enough for her husband to hear from the bathroom. He came rushing to her side, hairbrush clattering to the ground. “What, what, what?! Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly, almost slipping on the way and bending down a bit to touch her belly.

“I-I-I felt something! Yeobo, something’s happening! Kibum, I’m so scared! Something’s happening!” Junghee panicked.

He knelt in front of her, rubbing soothing circles on her enlarged stomach, trying to calm her down. "Shh. Quiet, sweetie, quiet. Calm down. Tell me what's happening. What’s do you fee—?” he began to inquire when he felt it.

The baby kicked.

His eyes widened and he turned his shocked face to look at his equally wide-eyed wife.

“Oh!” he grabbed her wrists and gasped. “It’s him!” he yelled, jumping onto his feet and dancing like a madman in his own way of celebration. Laughing his obnoxious laugh, he whooped, "Our baby! It's our baby hahaha! It's in there!" he pointed at her stomach, and continued rejoicing like a little child who'd been told he could have all the candy in the world.

Junghee quietly observed all this, still standing against a wall. In her own silence, seeing her husband jump for so much joy, hearing his cheerful laughter, feeling their child growing inside of her, she began to cry.

"B-bummie..." she rasped, voice caught thickly in her throat.

Kibum turned around, mid-cheer and his face fell, too. "H-hey..."

"Bummie, don't go. Please, I can't do this on my own. Please, just... can you not go? Just. Don't go..." she wept, repeating her plea over and over.

He gently wiped at her cheeks and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lifted her gaze to meet his own, he said: "I will be back. I promise. I will be be back, OK?" he kissed her again, as if sealing his promise in more ways than words could ensure. Leaning their foreheads together, they stood for a long minute of silence and cherished every breath they breathed at each other..  

The rumble of an engine outside had them quickly making their way down the stairs; Kibum holding a bag over one arm and guiding Junghee with the other.

When he stepped out the door, Lieutenant Kim Kibum, of the 65th General Corps received a salute from his junior officers as they came forward to relieve him of his bags. He lightly smiled at them and gave up his luggage. Then he turned around to look at his wife, who was watching her husband depart for the border because his country needed him.

Junghee stepped down into their front lawn and from a planter in one of the windows, picked up a handful of mud. Hobbling to Kibum's side, she took his hand and pressed the dirt into it.

"Your motherland calls you, and you should go to her. But remember that a small piece of her is waiting for you, here. Always remember."

In the jeep, on his way out, Kibum lifted his clenched palm to his chest and held it there, even as they swerved out of his neighborhood and he saw her figure grow smaller and smaller. Even as his heart pounded for him to stop the car and run back to her. Even as he heard a faint, "Stay alive," from an old dream many nights ago, as Junghee held him close to her breast.

He would come back for her. And for the new life she was bringing into this world.