Well, folks, here it is. The ATOTS review. It...really could not have been done together with the NWHS review, that was a silly idea. Here is a link to a Google doc with the previous S2 reviews arranged in chronological order, if you want to catch up on those (not sure many people saw the second part of the NWHS review) and don't want to deal with wading through tags and reblogs of reblogs and such. That said...

A Tale of Two Stans

1) And now here we are. A Tale of Two Stans. Aka, the episode that proves you can break the “writing rules” if you’re good enough, since an info-dump like this would normally be a no-no, and yet…well, here we go:

2) Aww, tiny Ford. Why would there be a boarded up stash of mesoamerican gold in New Jersey? Did you also do that thing Dipper does where sometimes he doesn’t really know what a big word means? Possible reference to the whole mesoamerican salamander thing? 

3) Oh, Ford did kinda make it into the opening sequence, didn’t he? Last picture to fall on the stack before the title card of the Mystery Crew. Kinda fitting, given that despite being very important from here on out, he still holds himself a bit aloof from most of the cast for the majority of that time. 

4) I know why the writers had to include that awkward “brother!” line (so people catching up would remember, “oh, yeah, Stan said that this person was the Author of the Journals and his brother…and then the camera revealed he meant twin brother,” and so they could avoid calling Ford anything for a little while), but it was just…awkward. We see in flashbacks that Stan did sometimes call him “Stanford,” so I have to wonder if anyone would have noticed had Stan gotten halfway through the word and then gotten socked in the jaw. Or heck, even just called him “Ford” - though I’ve gathered that enough of the fandom had already guessed there were twins and one was called Stanley by this point that they might have actually said “wait, what?” upon Stan bringing forth “his” rarely-heard second syllable at the sight of his brother. 

5) …And then you see that however clubby they were in the flashback, something has clearly gone Very Wrong in the interim. Or would that be apparent to someone viewing this in isolation, I wonder? Stan’s repeatedly remarked that he’s been working on his project for thirty years, and Powers had previously implied that the machine did…something…thirty years ago in “Scaryoke.” Perhaps someone thought Mr. Mysterious Man With No Name was just very, very confused…and then got to the rest of the episode. 

…Though once you’ve seen the rest of the series and especially if you’ve spent far, far too much of your life dissecting Ford’s character on a molecular level, it is noteworthy in its way that all he did was punch Stan. Does he have a bit of a “do not shoot people who closely resemble relatives” policy? Considering the things we know about the multiverse, such a policy could probably have gotten him killed fifteen times over even assuming he didn’t stumble into a parallel Earth where the Shapeshifter had escaped, eaten Stan, and set up shop just to wait for the person it *really* wanted to kill to come back….

Hm. If the Shapeshifter stayed in one form for long enough, would it age the way that form would? I have no idea, my brain is wandering off on tangents again. Anyway, back to the episode. 

6) I am…unsure what to make of the fact Ford a) instantly recognized this individual as ‘his’ Stan, despite being aware of others existing, b) immediately figured out Stan is responsible for the portal restarting, without even checking to see if there are other people in the room, implying he isn’t altogether surprised that Stan would do this, and c) gets mad about it and launches into an argument as though picking right back up where he left off thirty years ago. And Stan goes straight from…all kind of emotions to sarcasm “some kind of…sci-fi sideburn dimension?”) with just as little hesitation. 

7) “Just because you’re family.” Dang, this makes Stan’s outburst at the end of the episode that much more painful to think about. 

8) “Stan, you didn’t tell me there were children down here.” That…would have been one of the upsides of giving the guy time to say…much of anything before you started yelling, Ford. Just saying.

9) Oh gosh, poor Dipper. Just…poor Dipper. 

10) “Also maybe the entire U.S. government.” “The WHAT?!” That…was some pretty impressive lede-burying, Stan. 

11) “Okay, it’s all right.” There’s Ford, never wanting to admit he’s completely lost control of the situation (I might not have noticed this, but happen to have reread the Ford essay of doom this morning)

12) Gotta compliment the animators on the scene where Ford (completely unaware he’s doing so) drops the bombshell that he’s not Stanley. The camera isn’t really focused on Stan in particular, but he has an utterly “oh [redacted] this is gonna go over like a lead balloon” expression on his face even before Mabel says his name is Stanford.

13) You know Stan was deliberately crafting his retelling of his childhood, focusing on the boat and how they were always a team and etc. Of course, we know from later sections that Stan isn’t necessarily telling the kids everything he remembers (he may not have narrated the scene with Crampelter to them, for instance) but his wording in the speaking bits are clearly trying to remind Ford of “good times.” 

14) If you look closely, when Stan jumps into the science fair picture, Ford momentarily looks…something. An expression of consternation is observable. Considering what he later says to Dipper about how being a twin’s a very claustrophobic experience, and the fact they both get called to the office when only one of them was wanted…yeah, I’m going with the theory that Ford wasn’t quite as happy as Stan might have liked to think for a while before the Incident proved the straw that broke the camel’s back. In the beach scene, Tiny Ford muses on whether there is a place where “freaks like me” fit in. I think this sums up a subtle but important difference in the characters: Ford wanted to find a place in society that would accept him, while Stan’s goal was just to get away from it and find a place where neither of them would need acceptance anymore. Which makes it interesting that Ford’s sometimes perceived as the ‘loner’ twin - Ford himself might want to think that, but truth is, he’s wanted to be amongst people since he was a small child, he just couldn’t figure out their social behaviors well enough to remotely compensate for having an unusual physical feature. On one hand, he can function much better when he’s truly on his own than Stan can, but on the other, one reason why Bill might have found Stan harder to manipulate is because of how very exclusive the list of people with opinions Stan actually cares about seems to be. He’s much more comfortable being an outsider…just so long as he has that little group of people on his side. Without them, however…not so much.

15) Why on Earth did the receptionist call “Pines twins” instead of just one of them? Was it just assumed Stan would show up whether called or not (if only out of confusion), or just a habit of everyone treating them as so much of a unit that even the school staff had to remind itself “oh, yeah, this isn’t actually some ‘person with two personalities’ deal, they’re separate people who are in fact capable of walking down hallways independently.”

16) Oh gosh, I just now noticed that the ears are drawn just as…blank things, and now I can’t unsee it. 

17) Hi, Principal Guy? I hate you. Just for the record. I think Caryn might agree with me; blink and you’ll miss it, but she clearly gives the guy some kind of Look when he gets to that “and his name’s Stanley” bit, and it could be interpreted as a glare.

(18) Seriously, this...the school sections just anger me for very specific reasons...not least of which is how, er, close to accurate it kinda is in some ways, regardless of how far off it is in others. I have relatives in the same age range as the Stans. One of them once had a teacher snidely remark that he’d pull the hood of his sweater up over his head, too, if he was as ugly as her; he then punished her for said rule infraction by making her walk home after school in the rain. The guy was eventually made to apologize to her very unimpressed and irate mother, but the fact remains – he felt perfectly comfortable saying that out loud to a student’s face in the seventies, just as Ford is the only person in the room here who seems to fully realize ‘wait, that was...not really so much a compliment to me as a setup for insulting Stan, and that’s kinda messed up from both directions.’ Now, I work in education, so I know the system is still seriously screwed up in lots of ways...but at least there would be a reasonable expectation of negative consequences for anyone who said something like that to a student or parent these days.)

19) Setting, briefly, aside how much I’d like to kick the principal character and then give him a lengthy lecture on why he sucks as an educator on every possible front...his remarks about Stan potentially not finishing high school are the reason why I’ve always favored the timeline which puts this in the second half of their junior year of high school instead of their senior year. If it was senior year, after all, then Stan could have continued to coast on Ford’s papers for the rest of the term, or – in the extremely unlikely event Ford just went straight to college without passing Go or collecting 200 diplomas or anything like that – just the school handwaving him through. It only makes sense if he had at least a solid, not-started semester left to fail spectacularly in, and a year left seems more reasonable.

20) This would, however, mean that Filbrick did not kick one of his kids out a couple of months before the kid was eighteen (which still would have been a deplorable thing to do), but a sixteen-year-old. So yeah, kicks and lectures to Filbrick, too.

21) Stan, you’re breaking my heart here. How. Many. Times. In this review set have I mentioned that you’d solve a lot more of your problems if you just told people what they were instead of being defensive and making attempts at jokes and just generally deflecting the situation. I mean, you probably weren’t going to get the outcome you wanted even if you had communicated, but you might have not, y’know, gotten disowned as a teenager, thrown out on the street, and left to fend for yourself and therefore almost inevitably slip into a life of crime.

22) If Stan didn’t intentionally smash the thing, he...probably shouldn’t have phrased the lead-up to the Science Fair Incident that way in his voice-over.

23) it’s kind of interesting to note how far back Stan’s tendency to talk to inanimate objects goes - one assumes he was projecting Ford onto the Journals when he would seemingly monologue to those, but who was he really talking to when he told the machine it was “all your fault!” Thinking back on what I said in my “Little Gift Shop of Horrors” reviews…his attempts to dissociate Ford’s academic giftedness from his base personality, his inability to communicate…it’s tempting to wonder if he’s kind of speaking to Ford when he’s ranting at the machine, too. He might not realize it consciously - would probably go to any lengths to avoid recognizing the fact, actually - but….

24) A lot of people have commented on how stupid the college admissions board bit is (how it’s extremely implausible that they wouldn’t at least look over the work he put into the thing, how they give their school a bad name being rude, etc.), but have an extra point from me: why was an asterfladjik perpetual motion machine being kept right out in the open with the other science fair projects, anyway? For all we know, Crampelter did the majority of the damage in the interim just for spite or something. Or Blendin, or...get the picture? The irresponsibility of whoever was in charge of the exhibits is probably at least as much to blame as anyone else for things going awry there.

25) Stan cost “our family” potential millions. Not “your brother.” “Our family.” The Pines tendency toward groupthink really isn’t just a Stan and Mabel thing, they all have it to some degree – unless, of course, one interprets things as uncharitably as possible, in which case Filbrick and Stan might both use “our family” and “this family” as a cover for “me,” to make a totally selfish objective look better….

Yeah, I know I say I have fun doing it, and I do – but too much character analysis can…kinda start to get to you after a while. Become involuntary. Prompt you to put forward these possibilities in public, as if you were still in English 400-something…Engage with caution, kids.

26) Pity Stan didn’t actually, y’know, go into sales. He managed to a) come up with a convincing-looking product as a teenager with no resources, b) presumably talk his way into an opportunity to pitch it to TV, and c) actually sell what looks like a decent number of fake clothes cleaners and shoddy pitchforks. And then just. Keep. doing it. Over and over again (the map showing glimpses of his travels indicates he got into horse racing at some point, doubtless losing his shirt as one generally eventually does when gambling, and…we probably don’t even want to know why he was being chased by guys with machetes outside the country, do we, but apparently he was also hawking lousy tennis rackets in his twenties along with the previously-viewed StanVac.). In a legit sales job, he might well have done all right for himself….

Except, of course, for it being…tricky to get a job outside of manual labor/something in a plant or mill without a diploma, and, perhaps even more importantly…Stan being Stan. His personality would render him utterly unsuited to joining a sewing plant or a cotton mill, at the very least, even if he’d been so inclined (I don’t know much about meat-packing plants or anything like that, but three generations of my family worked in the same sewing plant; decent living, but you had to have social skills more advanced than any of the Pineses demonstrated to flourish in such an environment, and of course you’d never get rich at it), and possibly for working closely with others/in a subordinate position at all. Despite his lack of self-esteem, Stan does not take orders especially well; we see when he tries and fails to call Ford for help (and then lies about it to the kids) that he’s proud as well as touchy and someone who just fundamentally…struggles to stay within the lines dictated by normal society, really. Perhaps it’s a mental illness or other mental issue (his shoplifting could well be indicative of a compulsive tendency as well as his depression and possible Issues post-homelessness, and when his behavior is looked at as a whole, I imagine it would be quite easy to make a case for him as someone with one of the major personality disorders, especially given his extreme emotional volatility. He could also reasonably be interpreted as having ADHD, with an emphasis on the poor-impulse-control aspect. Most likely, there’s more than one thing a psychiatrist could put a label on going on with him, really), but one gets the impression that Stan just…cannot help himself, or at least finds it extremely difficult to do so. Independent business probably really was his best option, all things considered - though under better circumstances, it might have consisted of something like “eventually taking over the business from the old man” or some joint venture with one of his brothers, not, er, endless con games and dodgy product sales. 

27) I do not wish to recall how much time I spent trying to google “universities that were viewed as always second-choice schools in the seventies” and similar terms, trying to pin down where Backupsmore might be/what it might be vaguely based on. 

28) It’s also interesting to contemplate…sure, a kid might want to go to CalTech, and, for whatever reason, might not manage. This does not mean said kid could not still get into a really excellent school which could just as easily be someone else’s first choice…which, frankly, it’s hinted Backupsmore…might have been, looked at from a more objective perspective than Ford’s? Perhaps it didn’t have the good publicity of some others, but Ford seems to have flourished there both academically and (by his standards) socially. That’s where he met Fiddleford, someone he considers even brighter than himself. They had a DDMD group, and this resulted in him noting in the Journal that he had ‘friends’, plural. He made rapid progress in his studies and wrote a nationally-ranked doctoral thesis in at least one of the hard sciences at an age when a lot of folks are still working on undergraduate (we’re never given an exact number, but based on a combination of him noting that he is “in his thirties” six years after arriving in Gravity Falls and a lot of googling about how long standard programs in various areas last, I’m…guessing that to be as far ahead as he says he was, he was probably around 23-24. At most.). This is where he also apparently, for reasons unknown, a) participated in a competition to invent mind control devices for a politician and b) even knew that was what the competition was for, which was…interesting (in a fic, I made this a plot point by saying the people who sponsored that program were from the same government agency as Powers and Trigger). It’s understandable why he might be bitter about having a golden opportunity to go to The Very Best snatched away almost as soon as it was presented to him, but it doesn’t seem like Backupsmore was really all that bad of a school. The dorms comment…I never lived in a dorm, but my understanding is that it’s quite common for them to have these sorts of problems, even at good schools. Just one of those “communal living” things, particularly when the residents are at one of those ages where a lot of them are not much invested in keeping their environments clean and tidy. 

29) Tea club represent! (I am…quite enthusiastic on the subject of hot tea, so I notice when characters have it. Especially when they are Americans, as this can imply that some thought was put into the decision to draw that instead of a coffee cup)

30) “Just…going to ignore that.” Oh, gosh, poor Dipper. It’s funny - if you just watched this episode, you’d walk away with the impression Mabel and Ford were going to get along fabulously while Ford thought “...what is wrong with that one?” about Dipper. But for Gompers, I guess….

31) Just saying…Fiddleford apparently had a pretty nice house. Unless, of course, the implication is that he, Emma-May, and Tate were literally living in the garage and that the house belonged to someone else, but this seems unlikely. He also seems to have had some business going on his own already, plus whatever Emma-May might have brought in (I’ve written her as a schoolteacher before, and there’s no reason, really, why she shouldn’t be in much any profession one might wish to place her in. It was 1980. Everybody was on the Pill and women were allowed to have private bank accounts even after marriage. Maybe she was the breadwinner, I’m just noting that Fiddleford hardly seems to have been a starving visionary, one way or another)

32) I love the implication that Ford didn’t bother with comments like “hello” or “this is Stanford,” but just sprang “multi-dimensional meta-vortex” on Fiddleford in the first sentence…and Fiddleford just instantly did the calculations in his head to determine it “mathematically feasible” without missing a beat. 

33) In the field of detail work - it could be interpreted differently at the time, but we see Fiddleford being a little sloppy with where he put his feet, and them both looking grim just before launching the dummy - all in keeping with the eventual reveals that they were both extremely sleep-deprived and had just had a nasty quarrel the night before. 

34) Hate to say it, Stan, but…frame of mind your brother was in at the time, I wouldn’t have entirely ruled out biting under the right circumstances. 

35) Stan is the quickest man on two feet with a snappy comeback. Not always to his benefit, but guess you gotta work with the skills you have.

36) Ford, on one hand, you’re quite right - Stan really does have no idea what you’re up against. He exists, at this point, 90% in the mundane world, where things are…usually not as dramatic as they are in yours. Out of context, it sounds like you’re just complaining that you have dangerous enemies; Stan’s response to the mailman a few days earlier was to grab a baseball bat on the assumption that anyone who knocked on his door would be an enemy, so that much, he gets completely. On the other hand, Stan is also right - you really do have no idea what he’s been through. Heck, you both robbed the United States government and he’s the only one who got caught for it; I highly doubt you’d been to any prison (at least at this point), much less a South American prison in the seventies, and things were going pretty well for you until…well, frankly, they hadn’t been going all that well for the past two years, but you didn’t realize it until much more recently. On yet another hand, though, Stan - you looked concerned a mere scene ago that Ford might be going off the deep end, and you were kinda right about that. Man answered the door rambling about people stealing his eyes, and he just handed you some tatty, ragged-looking handwritten book that he’d glued a silhouette of his own hand onto like some kind of grade school art project, all while rambling about how you had to take it to the ends of the Earth to prevent terrible destruction. If you know about Bill, of course, this is all perfectly logical…but without that knowledge, Ford doesn’t look like someone being insensitive here, he looks like someone suffering from severe paranoid delusions, possibly having some kind of psychotic episode. Either way, it’s quite obvious there’s something…Very Wrong. 

But then we get back to the theme, boys: communication. Do some of that sometime, won’t you? I mean, you’ve tried everything else, you might as well give this a shot, yeah?

(In real terms, though…this scene is one of the painfully realistic ones. Neither party is thinking straight; for various reasons, neither party may be capable of thinking straight for a sustained amount of time. As an adult who’s seen some Stuff, Stan realizes that there is something…wrong…here…but even leaving aside how frightening it would be to find a relative in that state, and how much you’d try to deny it was as bad as it was by analogizing it to Caryn on a caffeine overdose, this is just Not Something Stan Is Remotely Equipped To Deal With, and wouldn’t really be equipped to deal with even if he didn’t have so many issues of his own. We don’t know how long he’s been traveling, but traveling will wear you out quick enough, and we know the state Ford was in. Neither of them was in anything like any condition to control his temper well even if either had had a better track record than they do, and so, you’ve got two people with anger issues who are playing with incomplete decks here, and who have a lot of personal history…one starts talking over the other, they’re exchanging shots now instead of actually discussing the issue, then next thing you know…yeah. I’ve never actually had it come to blows, but I’ve had a lot of arguments with relatives which played out depressingly similarly, where you’re trying to make a point and the other person jumps in with something else and next thing you know, neither of you is talking about the original subject at all anymore, you’re yelling about something seemingly unrelated. Or possibly even two totally different subjects at once, even though both of you think you’re on the same topic. That’s always…fun….) 

37) I know I was defending Backupsmore a few items ago, but, uh…they didn’t have a single lab safety class in there, Ford? And/or they let you in the lab after you failed one in epic fashion? Cause everything about this screams “I never read the lab safety rules in my life!” 

38) I also have to wonder if…more than just errors that are attributable to Ford being bad at lab safety was at work here, though. Fiddleford put half a foot over the safety line and got sucked in; Stan ran over it and almost to the base of the thing without it affecting him even as Ford, in the same moments, a) could throw a book hard enough to overcome the gravity suspension but b) could not stop himself from going through the Portal. 

39) “That’ll be 99 cents.” Ways You Know This Was Set Before I Was Born….

40) Y’know, I never realized it, but…Lazy Susan changed the course of history. Stan presumably would have either left the store without buying anything or (it is Stan, after all) tried to punch Ma Duskerton in the face before running out the door with the loaf of bread in question if Susan hadn’t happened to mistake him for Ford…and then Toby and Blubbs started telling stories about the “mysterious science guy”’s reputation…and next thing you know, Stan has created the basic idea for the Mystery Shack out of pure desperation. If that hadn’t happened, then nothing else in canon could have proceeded to happen: Stan would probably be dead or permanently in prison by now, Ford would have mysteriously disappeared without a trace when the Northwest Realty people finally came to knock down the door to demand overdue mortgage payments, and Dipper and Mabel would never have come to town. Aside from issues of prophecy and destiny and all that, there’s also just how it’s implied this is the first time Dipper’s had friends…basically ever. They both do a lot of personal growth over that summer, especially him, which they wouldn’t have had otherwise. All because of Lazy Susan, of all people. 

41) 1982. Bread costs 99 cents per loaf. And they all just forked over fifteen dollars apiece. That was rather good money in those days, no wonder Stan’s eyes did that thing upon seeing it presented to him. 

41) Oh, Lazy Susan also inspired “Mr. Mystery”? Dang, Susan, you are surprisingly important! 

42) I’ve noted it before, but I’ll note it again: look at the surroundings of Stan’s mirror in the aging montage. At first, we see a bunch of papers about Stan himself. Next shot, still a lot of papers about Stan/his business, but he’s also taped a picture of himself and Ford as small children to the wall beside it - motivation, I suppose. Then in the final shot, he’s replaced his own “Employee of the ‘Month’ plaque with one declaring Soos the Employee of the Year, and where the picture of himself and Ford was, there’s now a framed photograph of Dipper and Mabel on the fishing trip. I’ll be the first to point out his occasionally questionable motives and ethics and multitude of character flaws, but credit where credit is due: man built a life for himself through genuine work (hey, making up tall tales is a valid job, what else do you call what authors do?)...and then was prepared to throw it all out the window, as he *had* to know that there were going to be…issues…with having killed off his original identity if he really did get Ford back/when Ford got back and saw the length of ‘his’ alleged rap sheet for the past thirty years. He had some personal motivations, of course (he felt guilty about what had happened; he wanted the relationship they’d had as children back; etc), but considering how much he had to lose by 2012, it’s hard not to give Stan some credit when deciding whether or not he genuinely thought he was doing the right thing. 

43) “The town. My family. Your parents. Even you kids.” Ah, this is why I assumed that Stan was just airbrushed out of the family’s collective memory after his disownment and that nobody knew he was really Stanley all those years - he lumps ‘your parents’ and ‘you kids’ together as distinct units, implying that ‘my family’ would mean his own parents and presumably the twins’ grandfather. Also, I find Ford’s expression very difficult to interpret here. 

44) And then there’s one of those moments when it’s hinted that Dipper and Stan are a lot more alike than either of them might be fully comfortable with - as soon as he’s heard the story, Dipper instantly apologizes for his…actually extremely reasonable doubts and anger in the first part of the episode. It’s not just that even Stan would have trouble believing a tale as tall as the truth of his life: it’s that Stan never told them a tale to begin with, which just left them to draw their own conclusions. I…really can’t think of a sensible interpretation Dipper could have reached other than “this guy is a murdering identity thief who isn’t related to me at all and…even if he doesn’t want to end the world, this is still probably not good, whatever he’s doing” with the evidence he had at the time, especially after the conversation in “Scaryoke” where Stan ‘fessed up to lying about the town and promised that was the end of it. It would, to some extent, be fair to be a bit upset with Stan about this even after learning the truth…but he isn’t. It really was for the family, then? Oh, ok, we’re good. 

45) I know the random utility of the totem pole is a bit contrived, but I’ll give ‘em their due: we did see in “Scaryoke” that Stan had security cameras showing the exterior of the property on monitors in the lab, so that’s actually a reasonably sensible place for some electronics to have been after all, I guess.

46) Ford admittedly did a decent enough improv job right up until he fumbled the technology, but it was a good thing Powers and Trigger were a bit dazed and confused - otherwise, they…might have noticed that his “very real report” was actually a picture of Mabel, outlined in flames and apparently laughing maniacally beneath a caption of ‘what hath science wrought?!’, considering it was in plain view of everyone for several shots there. 

47) I just realized that the timeline I established once means I almost certainly wrote three novels where Ford is stuck in his just-left-the-Portal outfit: aka, high-collared black rags that make him look a bit like a vampire that’s recently been in a knife fight. I’m…sure this did wonders for him all the times it would have helped him out to be perceived as a Respectable Sort Of Person We Should Listen To….

48) Anyone else really, really want to know what they were talking about for…at least a while, considering it was sunset (but still very much not dark at all) when Soos left the porch and full dark with stars out when it cut to the infamous mirror conversation? Especially since the fact that they were still talking fairly civilly - even joking - at that point meant that the previous conversation…probably was actually going reasonably well, or at least as well as could be expected, all things considered? 

Well, there. I did it. A Tale of Two Stans, a full reaction. It only took the entire day….

....Eh, worth it.

I feel like March just started, but we're more than halfway through it.  I'm a contrary mixture of anticipation and dread for the month of April.  My way of participating in Camp Nanowrimo for 2023 will be to post my writing online.  When I was a teenager I didn't have a MySpace page because my parents didn't have Internet.  I kept a diary, and I would show it to my friends.  I know that's not how a diary is supposed to work, but I was so proud of how I expressed myself at times I wanted a select audience of my choosing.  That died down with age.  I still keep a diary, only it's now a Google Doc, and I post some of what I write on social media, so I guess I'm still doing the same exact thing I did as a teen.

Time to mix it up.  I've joined Tumblr a few times, and for me, it's always been a lonely place because I don't interact very much.  I get the occasional idea for a comment or a message, but even though there's the option to go Anonymous, I feel too shy to make the attempt.  Yet if I plan to self-publish a few books in the near future, I need to overcome my hesitation.  I keep starting a sentence, regretting it, deleting, restarting; if this keeps up it's going to take me all day to write a thousand words.  Normally I put on a playlist of lofi music, blurt out the first idea I get, and see where it takes me.  It's like the difference between staying home with the curtains closed and getting dressed to go out.

When I spend the evening at home, I can wear sweats, a hoodie, the only accessory is my Fitbit on my wrist, my hair is tied back in a loose ponytail.  I'm perfectly comfortable.  But if I have to go out for an evening, I fix my hair, I might even put on some makeup, I dress in flattering clothes, although I'm in my thirties, so even they are pretty comfortable.  I might even put on the fleece-lined leggings I bought from an Instagram store, because those are the closest I will get to actual tights, and I wear my "nice" shoes.  So I care how I look when I go out, and I really don't care when I stay in.  Same  thing with my writing.

Joining Tumblr is making me feel like I have to "fix my hair and face" as a writer.  Yet I value honesty, and I want to be genuine and truthful, so I'm going to do my best to share the real me.  This is the struggle.  Am I the only one who feels this way?  Am I the only one who cares this much?  I never wanted to be "popular" in school.  I always sought out friends with similar interests to me.  My happy place is a bookstore that also serves coffee.  I volunteered at a library and that was my favorite job of all time.  Books play such a vital role in my life: reading them and writing them.  I think I wrote enough for one day.  I dipped my toe, so to speak.

10, 25, 30, for fic writer ask game. ^^

Hey! Thank you so much for these excellent questions ♥

10. How do you decide what to write?

Well first of all if I have a deadline I’ll be trying to work on the WIP in question in priority x)

I have a list of all my works and a pretty good idea of what I’ve been up to / what I have left to do so I usually rely on said list to get a good overview of my options. I will pick up one of the most advanced projects (drafted, or outline) if I’m in the mood for those, or one of the oldest if possible, otherwise it’s the one I feel most inspired about that comes first.

Since I only write one fic at a time especially for longer works I need to pick carefully as it’s something I might be stuck with for a while. Unless I have a sudden burst of inspiration for a shorter fic (then I just get it out as fast as possible to go back to the longer fic) of course!

It’s really a balance between “what am I in the mood for” and “what needs to be written as soon as possible” ^^

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

Every time I sit down to write I open the google doc for the draft plus the google doc and/or spreadsheet for the outline. I also have an online translator open since I’m bilingual and sometimes the words come in the wrong language, and an online unilingual dictionary when checking spelling/definitions or browsing the thesaurus.

If I made a moodboard on Pinterest it’s most likely open as well, and I will have music playing (sometimes a tailor made playlist for the fic). I will also have a search engine ready for anything else I might need, usually simple searches, nothing too in depth or complicated unless I get sidetracked.

I guess I use Tumblr A LOT prior to writing for inspiration or prompts and after to promote my writing, and of course AO3 to post x)

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter? 

The first time I “had” to work with a beta, that was definitely new and frightening! I had this very common fear that the beta would tell me to scratch it all and restart from the beginning or just try to rewrite the fic in my stead but it’s definitely not what happened.

They were great, honestly. We felt like a team working towards the same goal: writing the fic I wanted to write, not just the fic as it came out. They had a lot of insight on both my writing, the plot, and the potential reception so not only did I learn useful tricks to edit my whole writing, I also grew as a writer and wrote a fic I had no regret whatsoever about. It was exactly what I wanted it to be.

It really changed my writing process, although I do realize such good chemistry with a beta-reader is very rare and I really lucked out and found a unicorn that time. This experience helped me build meaningful relationships with other fans and I am now collaborating with yet another unicorn on a WIP so! It’s possible!

So yeah now I’m a lot more confident when looking for a beta, I know what I want and how to ask for it, but I’m also a much better editor as well, especially for my own works. I can’t give the same kind of insight as a beta-reader coming at the work from an outside perspective but I’ve been able to set up editing strategies and started outright rewriting my fics (which I’d never have done before!).

I’m even more of an overachiever than ever but I’m happy for it haha.

Thanks again for the questions, find more here!

and that’s the way i loved you

here we go… smile!au nation

it was an awkward dinner to say the least

they all sat at the same table to eat and no one said a word to each other and frankly chase was thankful for the silence becaue who knows what words would have been spoken

their parents seemed tired of their silence so they decided to go and start rehersing the dance

“so unexpectedly the choreography changed and so i will have to actually explain this again” alex’s mom frowned at the paper

as of now the current line up was nico and alex front and center with gert and chase to their left and molly and karolina to the right of nico and alex

“well we’re doing rotations and so nico, chase, and molly will be rotating which means after the first verses… nico moves with karolina, chase with alex, and molly with gert” alex’s mom explained

chase froze and he could see karolina about to panic about having to dance with nico for who knows how long

“this isn’t the song you’re dancing to at the wedding but i just chose it to practice” alex’s mom started the music

the familiar tune of taylor swift’s the way i loved you started to play and chase was about to pass out

the dance started out smoothly with everyone trying not to step on anyone’s feet and by the time the chorus started playing… chase found himself dancing with alex

it was probably the most cliche thing ever in the movie and chase well his life was a cliche but alex just smiled at him softly and chase wanted to cry right there

“oh god i miss him… i miss him so much” chase thought

they then did another rotation in which now he danced with karolina and she just looked at him and mouthed

“are you ok”

chase just nodded to reassure her and by the time the song was done, chase excused himself and left

he went into one of the balconies and sat on the chair trying to control his tears from flowing out but he couldn’t

“nice dance skills you have” it was voice that chase had missed too much

“not so bad yourself” chase turned towards alex

“i didn’t step on you or anything” alex’s voice was full of concern

“nope. it was perfect” chase felt a little awkward

after a moment of awkward silence, alex cleared his throat and started speaking

“chase im sorry ive been a jerk to you. the way ive treated you these past months… it wasn’t fair to you and i was just so stressed and confused about this doc and everything that i didn’t notice i was hurting you”

“for what its worth… im sorry too and i had no reason to take out my anger on you but i was just so hurt and upset that it made me want to hate you but i couldn’t. i could never hate you” chase also apologized

“yeah karolina told me that” alex shrugged

“also i shouldn’t have called you a coward” chase added

“no its fine, i deserved it and honestly molly deserved to call me shallow. it opened my eyes a lot” alex just waved off his apology

“i forgave you for a while you know. i just wanted to protect myself by staying angry” chase admitted

“you had every right to do that” alex smiled

“i guess” chase shrugged

“do you think we can start over as friends…. ive just missed you so much and i realized that i need you in my life” alex asked

“of course we can start over besides i was hoping you’d ask” chase teased him

alex just gave him a hug and chase gladly accepted it and then he felt the tears coming in

“hey don’t start getting sentimental on me now” alex laughed softly wiping his tears

“im sorry” chase blushed when he felt alex’s hands on his face

“now if you don’t mind… i want to catch up” alex pulled a chair and motioned for chase to sit with him

maybe things could go back to the way it was just maybe

alex was on cloud nine

he didn’t think chase would forgive him ever for breaking his heart but surprisingly he had and he had forgiven him for a while now

alex was glad they were restarting their friendship again and who knows, he slightly held hope that they could be something more but who knew

it was nice talking again like before, hearing each other laugh and tell stories… it was the most wonderful feeling in the world

but right now, alex tried not to wake up chase who had fallen asleep and had his head on his shoulder

he decided to softly play with his hair for a bit and god was it soft

unfortunately that moment couldn’t last forever because nico came in and when she saw them, she was mad

“what are you two doing” nico demanded

“shit” alex stood up from his chair and in progress woke up chase

“huh? oh…” chase was confused when he woke up but as soon as he saw nico. he grew scared

nico just stormed up to them and alex gasped as he saw nico slap chase

“why do you always meddle in everything” nico asked chase who just grabbed his cheek and excused himself to the bathroom

“what the fuck nico” alex was upset

“when did you two decide to makeup” nico asked

“since today…. ive been wanting to for days now but i knew you wouldn’t like it” alex crossed his arms

“you know how i feel about this” nico shook her head

“i know but at this point… i need to start making decisions that aren’t influenced by anyone and not to please any documentary” alex decided

“im telling everyone” nico just looked back before leaving

“don’t you dare. you can’t be mad about anything besides all chase and i were doing was talking” alex stopped her

“fine i’ll stay quiet but don’t think you’re getting off the hook” nico sighed

they both went back towards the main hall where everyone was waiting and alex wanted to check in on chase but he knew nico would be pissed if he took any longer

so he just opened his phone and texted a simple

“you ok”

he was glad he got a response that said “im good”

it was this moment that he knew that he had to make a decision

he had to choose between going through with this wedding or stopping it because he was no longer into it anymore

“well shit” alex mumbled noticing his dilema

So I’m testing some new things out with this so you guys will have to tell me what you think!

I’ve also come to the conclusion that while Timothee isn’t my favorte celebrity I like writing for him.

Also, I have no idea how movie premieres work so this is really just a guess and could be completely wrong.

Word Count - 1609

Beta Read - by google docs

Navigating through the crowded streets of New York was getting to be something you were good at. Moving there had definitely been a culture shock but after getting used to it, it was pretty nice. But now, you needed to get coffee and work on your French for one of your classes.

Ordering and setting yourself up, you started the assigned video and prayed it would make sense and you wouldn’t have to add another hour or two of study to your already full schedule. But as fate would have it, it sounded like gibberish.

Restarting the video to try again, you were pulled out of your studies by a burning sensation going down your arm. Pulling out your headphones you looked down at your arm to brown soaking into the sleeve.

“I’m so sorry!” The guy in front of you looked familiar but due to his mask it took a moment for it to sink in. Timothee Chalamet. He was an actor, but that wasn’t important. What was important? He knew french.

“That’s not important. Do you have any free time right now? I know you know french and I need to learn it and this makes no sense and it’s due in two hours.” You definitely caught him off guard, but he checked his phone.

“I have an hour.” He pulled a chair over and you handed him one of your earbuds. For the next hour he helped you, he was a lot better than the video your teacher had given you.

“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper. “If you need more help just text me and I’ll help when I can.”

“Thank you! With your help, I’ll at least pass.” He laughed and you said your goodbyes before he went on his way and you worked on finishing the rest of your homework.

While you worked, you didn’t notice the girls in the corner watching you with their phones out and slightly pointed at you.

The next day, you almost regretted asking Timothee for help when you woke up to your phone being blown up by friends and social media. There were multiple pictures of you and Timothee as well as multiple dating theories. One of the notifications stood out, Timothee had messaged you on Instagram.

You didn’t really talk until your next assignment came and you texted him about it. Together you decided to meet at one of the libraries. This time you knew that you would be spending time with a celebrity and people would notice so you made sure you at least looked alive. That way if there were pictures posted online at least you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Apparently Timothee noticed.

“You look nice.”

“Well, the chances of pictures being taken are pretty big so I at least want to look alive and not like I just rolled out of bed.” He snorted and you chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.

This time it was a bigger assignment so it took a few hours instead of one. But it didn’t seem to be so long, it felt like time had flown by and it was finished immediately. Timothee was interesting, you two could have fun but when needed it could be serious.

So when you split ways and Timothee started texting you an hour later, you didn’t feel like he was trying anything. It just felt like you were talking to a friend you had known for years. Then, you had plans to hang out two days later when he was free. The plan was to got to a park and play with kids and act like a kid, simply to feel like you didn’t have so much on your plate and could just have fun for an afternoon.

The interview he asked you about, was before you were meeting to go to a park and act like you were children, not adults who had jobs and college. But that was the plan, and exactly what you did.

The two of you ended up chasing each other until all the other kids at the park wanted to play with the two of you. The parents watched the two of you close when you played with them but that was to be expected.

Timothee was good with kids. Not just good, amazing. All the little girls were absolutely in love with him while all the boys were amazed by how strong he was.

However, as most people know. Kids have no filter, therefore they ask any question that comes to their brain. Hence the 30 different times you had to tell them that you weren’t dating and you were just friends having fun. Some of the parents seemed to think so too, one of them basically told you.

“Thank you for playing with Maggie, she had a blast and she’ll probably sleep well tonight.” The lady looked relieved at the thought. “You and your boyfriend would be good with kids if you decide to have them.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We just met a month ago and we just came here to have some fun.” She nodded but you could tell she didn’t believe you. Trying to ignore what she said you turned and went back to playing with the kids.

It was after two hours of playing different games, the two of you decided that you were out of energy. Timothee offered getting a meal and you agreed. And that’s how you ended up in a Mcdonalds.

For the next few months, you would meet up for assignments or just to hang out. The press had a hayday with it but after a while it was easy to ignore and then it became more fun to do funny poses every once in a while.

Then he had to go work on a movie so your contact was left to text, phone calls, and facetime. It worked but it wasn’t as good as meeting in person. He still helped with your french until the semester was over part way through his movie.

“Timmy!!! I passed!!!” You held up your phone to the camera on your computer so he could see through his screen. It was amazing and you owed it all to him. Last semester you had barely passed and that had been with 4 times the amount of studying then you had done today. Timothee was godsent.

“Yes! You did it!” You celebrated for a little bit before he got serious. “Y/n, since you passed I know what we can do to celebrate. When this is over, you should come as my plus one to the movie premiere.”

“The movie premiere?!” He nodded, you could see how nervous he was in his eyes. “I have one question.” He nodded, waiting for you to ask. “What am I supposed to wear.” He snorted.

“I’ll talk with my manager and see what he says.” So that was the plan. You kept talking with him, but now it was less about school and more for the fun of it.

When the movie premiere came close Timothee got an answer to your question. Though he almost seemed hesitant to tell you.

“You just have to go get measured and go to a few fittings. The brand making my suit is making you a matching dress.” You would be matching with Timothee sure, you were going as his plus one, or date depending on who you ask. But brand? This dress sounded like it was going to cost more than your college tuition.

“Ok, when and where do I need to go?” He gave you his manager’s private number so you talk straight with him and get all the details. Little did you know, that that was the beginning of the storm.

Somehow it got out that you were going with Timothee and even getting matching outfits. Soon, your phone was being blown up by people trying to get details and even shows asking you to come on and talk about it. Timothee’s manager called you and offered to be your manager until this all calmed down, mostly because this affected Timothee but the offer was still appreciated and accepted.

He texted you a link and told you to post it in all of your public social media bios titled ‘Manager’s contact’. While it wasn’t something most celebrities did, you had just been dragged into this. It would start as a base line until things were figured out.

Through this mess, Timothee kept apologizing even when you said it was ok and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. You thought the manager would be enough but then you ended up sharing Timothee’s booking agent too. Apparently everyone wanted to talk with you.

A few days after agreeing, you learned that the episode would be realised a week before the premiere, but hopefully it would go well. You were also told that Timothee would be doing the interview with you which made you feel a lot better.

Timothee came back the day before you had to fly to California so you were going to let him take the day to rest because frankly it was a lot, but he showed up at your door with his suitcase. He hadn’t even gone home.

“Timmy! What are you doing he-” He cut you off.

“Can I kiss you?” What? That wasn’t what you expected. While you stood there staring at him completely confused, he started shifting around a little bit and playing with his hands.

“Yeah.” That’s all it took for him to get his confidence back.

Request:

Hey, I really love your writing.

Can I request something with Thimothée Chalamet? Maybe like they meet at a coffee shop and he accidentally spills his coffee on her and then they become friends and they progressively fall in love with each other? If you can’t I understand.

Thank you 🤍

WIPWednesday: 1/26/22 (Winter's Fury)

omg is it really wednesday already. x_x I have no concept of time lately. It's been busy all around, and I hit this like...emotional wall with this fic? Every time I opened the doc, Luka was bluescreening in a Grief Coma and not doing what I needed him to do. So I ended up restarting it like three times? And busting out a Dingo File to shake it off. And attempting to work on my Valentine's exchange fic. Guess who's probably gonna be finishing in June AGAIN. 😝

Which is all to say Pt6 is still being written. I have a long weekend, and I'm hoping to wrap it up then, but now I'm also looking at the Valentine's deadline and...one fic at a time. This is fine. This is fine. (I'm so excited for what I'm kicking around for that, but I told myself I was NOT gonna over-achieve this year. I'm a dirty, rotten liar. [Redacted] is Dumb and needs to give worse prompts. 😝)

Anyway. Here's a peek at Winter's Fury Pt6....

“She’s resting.”

Luka didn’t look up when Rose emerged from the nest. Besides an agitated flick of his tail, he didn’t respond at all. Rose heaved a sigh before pressing her lips together. He hadn’t moved from where she had left him nearly twenty minutes ago, when she had forced a screaming, thrashing Marinette from his arms and had used her own magic to make her sleep. She would never forget the look on his face as Marinette had slumped against him, ashen and terrified and…she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Dwelling wasn’t going to help anything now.

“She’s…she’s really weak, Luka,” she said. She walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. She tried to not feel offended when he flinched away from her. He kept his eyes on the blackened sticks, though it didn’t look like he had touched them. At least he had listened to her there. She knelt beside him and squeezed his shoulder. When he still wouldn’t look at her, she reached over and turned his face towards her. “Luka. She’s weak, but she’s alive. She will recover. Hold onto that.”

He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing with the motion, and she sighed. His eyes flicked back to the sticks.

“Luka,” she called. She placed both hands on his face and pressed her fingertips into his cheeks. She didn’t stop until he was looking at her again. “Marinette will heal, and she will live. I severed the connection. Without it, that’s just cursed wood – it can’t siphon her life to maintain the illusion any more. Marinette will be fine.”

The way he hissed and recoiled at that word said more than his silence ever could. Rose sucked in a breath and pulled him towards her, hugging him tight. He clung to her desperately as he began to shake.

“Can…can I…” he gasped. It broke her heart to tell him no, but she shook her head. Her neck felt wet where his face was pressed against it.

“The best thing you can do for her right now is to let her rest,” Rose said, rubbing his back. “Actually, the best thing you can do for her is tell me what the hell happened here. And why you didn’t tell me it was this bad – Luka, have you even looked at her since you came home?”

“Of courssssse I have!” he snapped, and she sighed as she flicked the back of his head. “Shhhhe…shhhe…”

“Breathe, Luka,” Rose murmured, leaning her head on his. The breaths he took were labored and shaky, but at least he was taking them. “Good. Good. I’m not…I’m not mad at you, Luka. Just like you’re not really mad at me. But I can’t help if I don’t know what happened.”

She pushed him away and gestured to the sticks.

“Someone hated you two enough to steal your snakelet and replace it with that thing. And I am going to say it was personal, because the magic required to maintain the changeling illusion for an inanimate object is strong and dangerous – but it’s also good news. The changeling was still alive, Luka, which means your snakelet is still alive. In order to keep up the appearance, it has to have a source to copy. It was killing Marinette in the process, but it was still working – there’s still hope.”

The look that crossed Luka’s face was…conflicted. It was hard to look hopeful when you also looked like you wanted to kill someone. Not that she could entirely blame him, of course.

Whoever had done this had threatened Rose’s family, too. The fae were neither kind nor lenient towards those who had wronged them. They were just lucky Marinette hadn’t actually…Rose might be kind enough to offer a quick death in light of that, but only because Rosewas a good person.

She made no promises for Luka.

Being A Stark (3)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count: 1852

Warnings: None I think...

Author’s Note: Honestly I love this chapter so much, so I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know your thoughts or if you want to be tagged in the future. 

Becoming A Stark || Chapter One || Master List

“Hey kiddo.” Your dad’s voice was the last thing you were expecting to hear while reading A Brave New World to get you ready for when you head off to classes. Technically this was the summer reading and you had already read it for the start of freshman year, but restarting ninth grade seems like a good reason to prepare yourself again. But you almost throw the book across the room at the sound of your dad’s voice. 

“Dad?” You set the book aside, flipping it over to hold your place, and stand up to walk over to the bed. “You’re awake.”

“Sure am.” His left hand reaches up to scrub at his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve spent all your free time here.”

“Ok, I won’t tell you then.” You say as you look him over. He’s worse for wear, but you’ve never been so happy to see his eyes open. He reaches his good arm to take your hand.

“I’ve missed you kiddo.”

“I’ve missed you being awake.” You say, knowing he’s talking about the five years you were gone. It still doesn’t feel like you missed all that time, but there’s little things that are different. People’s haircuts, tech updates… Morgan. You have an updated pump coming to the cabin since yours is out of warranty now. “I hear you did it.”

“Mastered time travel to get you back? Yeah I did.” He smiles at you as he takes in the fact that you haven’t changed even though you were gone for five years.

“I meant the closed loop system, but that’s cool too.”

“Oh yeah, that. Did that about a year after the Blip. Figured I’d make sure you came back to something better. Spent the next four years focusing on…” he trails off. “Doesn’t matter. But then Capsicle, Nat, and Pissant show up telling me that they want to try and get everyone back. I couldn’t give up a chance to get you back. Get everyone back.” You sit down on the side of his bed, holding his hand in yours, his thumb running along the ring Pepper had given you for your birthday.

“I met Morgan.” You say and you see worry and joy both wash over his face. 

“What do you think?”

“Well she took me by surprise. The whole Blip made everything feel like not even a day had passed. So having a five year old sister? That wasn’t something I was expecting. But she’s a pretty great kid.”

“She reminds me a lot of her older sister.” Tony says with a smile. 

“I should let Dr. Cho know you’re awake. And Mo- Pepper.”

“Hold on a second.” His good hand holds onto yours. “What’s with this calling Pep by her name and not Mom?” You shrug, not wanting to voice your thoughts. “Come on. Spill. Talk to your old man about it all.”

“She’s got her own kid now. It’s different.” You shrug again, feeling unable to fully explain that you don’t feel like your mom will want you anymore now that Morgan is here.

“Y/N, she was just as upset as I was when you Blipped. Even more upset when she found out she was pregnant and you weren’t going to get to be there when Morgan was born. You’re her kid too. There is no not wanting you just because Morgan is in the picture now too. Same goes for me. We both love both of you equally. Our little misses are just going to have to get used to sharing their mom and dad.” His hand tightens on yours. “Now I don’t think I’m supposed to be moving a ton, so you’re either going to have to come here so I can hug you or I’m going to break a lot of rules, because I’ve waited for five years to hug my kid.” You smile at him before diving towards your dad. Your arms wrap around him, careful of the arm that is just laying there, and you hold onto him. His good arm wraps around your back, holding you to him. “This is what I missed the most while you were gone.” He says before kissing your cheek.

“I hear you hugged Peter.” 

“I may have.”

“So does this mean you accept my boyfriend now?”

“If he makes you happy, I will put up with him.”

“Good.” You place a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to grab Dr. Cho and call Mom.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” He says holding onto your hand, stopping you from getting up. “FRIDAY, tell Doc I’m awake.” You roll your eyes at not thinking about using FRIDAY. “Kiddo, you better know I’m not going to let you go very far for a while now. I spent five years without you.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” You pull your phone out and shoot a message to your mom about Tony being awake. She’s only upstairs, using the kitchen in what used to be the apartment you lived in to make Morgan and you some lunch. “Did you know I have to restart ninth grade? I have to take Biology and Chemistry all over again and I’m going to die.” You say dramatically.

“I’ll be there every step of the way. Peter and I’ll make sure you pass. Just like last time.”

“I was barely passing last time.”

“But you already have the head start of having taken the first half of the semester.”

“That means nothing.” You say before another voice comes into the room.

“Daddy!” Morgan climbs up on the bed on his other side and gives him a big hug. “You slept longer than when I was sick.” She stares Tony down as if asking him to explain himself. She’s leaning away from his marked up arm, although most of it is covered by his hospital gown and the sling.

“I was really tired Morgana. Will you forgive me?” She nods her head before looking over at you. 

“Daddy, Y/N came back like you said she would.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Tony smiles at his youngest, wanting to reach out with his right hand to push her hair back, but it’s currently trapped in a sling and not wanting to do anything.

“She played Barbies with me yesterday. She’s much better at it than you are.” Morgan states as if it’s a fact. “You should have come back sooner.” She says to you.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I think Dad might get mad if I do.” You stage whisper the last part to her. She shakes her head.

“He won’t get mad. He would just be really sad. He always got sad when he talked about you.”

“She’s got you there kiddo. I would miss you a lot if you left again.” Pepper sits next to Morgan, a hand drifting to place itself on Tony’s leg, needing to touch him.

“Hey.” Tony says, looking at Pepper. “Your eyes are red. Few tears for your long lost boss?” Tony smirks at her as if it’s an inside joke that you and Morgan won’t understand.

“If you ever do that again… I won’t be looking for a new job. I’ll be looking for a new husband, you understand that?” 

“I missed the wedding?” You can’t help but interrupt. You should have caught it when Peter called her Mrs. Stark, but now you’re realizing what happened. Pepper turns from looking at your dad to looking at you.

“You didn’t really miss much. We eloped.” She explains.

“Wanted to be married before a certain miss, but didn’t feel right doing a whole big ceremony when all the important people would be missing.” Tony adds.

“Couldn’t have a wedding without my maid of honor.” Pepper smiles at you. “So now that you’re back, guess we can do a vow reunion or a real wedding or something.”

“Wait you’re serious? Me? Maid of honor?” You stumble over the words not fully believing what your mom was saying.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I have my daughter be my maid of honor?”

“Because you want someone older to do it?”

“If there’s going to be a wedding can I be the flower girl?” Morgan interrupts.

“Of course you can.” Tony reaches over to ruffle Morgan’s hair as Pepper comes to sit next to you.

“There is no one I would rather as my maid of honor than you.” She wraps an arm around you. “You’re the only one I can trust to make everything perfect. Honestly the only people that have to be at the wedding are you, Tony, and Morgan. Anyone else who is there is just a bonus. That’s why we couldn’t have the wedding without you.”

“I understand that. I just... I’m fifteen. You want a fifteen year old as your maid of honor? You could have anyone in the whole world. You could have one of the Avengers.” You point out. 

“I could. But I want my daughter. And she’s back. So let’s plan a wedding.” She places a kiss on your cheek. “Sound good Maid of Honor?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“So I hear our patient is wide awake now.” Dr. Cho’s voice comes from the door.

“What’s the diagnosis Doc? How soon can you break me out of here?” Tony asks.

“Got to run a few tests, but I would say hopefully next couple days?” Dr. Cho looks at all the people sitting with Tony. “I may have to ask a few people to get off the bed so I can look you over.”

“Lunch was basically ready upstairs. How about the girls and I go eat and we’ll be back after?” Pepper suggests trying to get out of Dr. Cho’s hair.

“I’ll take Morgan upstairs. You stay with Dad.” You suggest. You know Pepper will want to know what’s going on anyway. This makes more sense. “You can come join us for lunch after the tests.”

“Ok.” You stand from the bed, stick your bookmark in your book you had forgotten about, before reaching for Morgan. You swing her off the bed and she squeals with laughter. 

“Come on Momo. Let’s go upstairs. Maybe we can find some juice pops.” You whisper the last part loudly. Morgan giggles as she grabs onto your hand. 

“Can we bring Daddy one later? He got hurt. He deserves a juice pop.” Morgan looks up at you with doe like eyes.

“I think we could probably do that.” You and Morgan walk towards the elevator as Morgan rambles on about different things. You honestly love the chatter of your little sister. Over the past few days, it’s filled the silence that your dad normally would and that calmed you some. 

“Daddy’s going to be all better now right Y/N?” Morgan asks as you step on the elevator. “His arm still has a booboo.”

“His arm does have a booboo, but Dr. Cho is going to look at it and do what she can to help it. But Dad is going to be around for a long time.”

...A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch @skyfallstilinski @cutie1365 @a-mnd @youarethereasonimsmiling @thefemalestorywriter @krazykendraisnotinsane @cathy8taffy @letssee2468 @babyreads @riyanna @theatregeek @bubblebunbun

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick​

strike won’t let me tag

For the fic title thing: Broken Bones and Sorrowful Souls?

okay this reminded me of this post from @ratsoh-writes from a while back I had bookmarked to write something with eventually so here we go today is national "zircon writes angst day" i guess

&&&

The twitch of a hand shook him awake. He woke with a jolt almost instantly, both terrified and excited. Having been leaning onto the end of the bed, he pushed his head back up so as to sit up properly, but he never lost his grip on their hand.

"hey," he whispered softly. "are you awake?"

The hand in his grip twitched slightly again, holding his a bit more tightly for a brief moment. Sans squeezed it in return.

Their eyes started to flicker open, between squinting and closing their eyes again because of the bright lights of the hospital room. They mumbled some sort of noise of discomfort before finally committing to waking up.

"heya sleepyhead," Sans teased, trying to relieve himself from the otherwise internal panic that still hadn't fully subsided from this whole incident. "glad your finally awake."

He held a tighter grip on their hand.

They glanced down to it.

Sans tipped his head to the side, wondering why they were so silent.

Their actions mimicked his as they kept staring at the linked hands.

"babe?" Sans asked softly. "you... ok?"

They tipped their head up to see him fully, not entirely comprehending the situation. maybe they're just tired still, Sans thought to himself, though he was very certain of what was going on, and his lowering panic shot up again faster than it had been the day before when this all happened.

They opened their mouth to speak... but it fell shut soon after, seemingly lacking the confidence to say anything at all.

please. say something. anything.

Even to just confirm his fear would be enough.

But they didn't say a word.

"that uh... that truck that hit you really did a number on you, huh?" Sans said carefully. "doc said you broke your shoulder and femur. you've been out since yesterday, too."

They glanced around themself, recognizing the wrappings around their arm and leg, forcing them to stay in place while they healed, they assumed.

c'mon... please...

He'd hoped saying something to spark their memory would help, but... it seemed nothing had changed at all.

please. please.

He didn't want to rush them. He didn't want to panic them. He didn't want to worry them. But he wanted them back. More than anything he wanted them back. He can't take this. Not now. Not like this. Not...

... he was going to have to... wasn't he?

They turned to him again, that same glazed over confusion clouding their vision from him. They, too, seemed like they were desperately trying to figure out what was going on. He knew that look. He hated that look. Stars, he was scared. He was so scared.

But he already knew what happened. At this point, he was just denying it, hoping for a miracle.

"y'know," Sans spoke again, doing his best to hold his composure, but he was near his breaking point; "pap's... he's doin' ok. worried about you, but... he's ok. what you did, you... really saved his life, y'know."

Their expression lit up for a moment, and Sans was almost excited, until he realized it was shock and not relief. Ha... so close. And yet...

"'m thankful, too," he mumbled. "for what ya did. you... didn't have to do that." His SOUL was crumbling as he spoke, lying through his teeth as he was ready to break out into a scream. It was as if he had been supposed to choose between the two people he cared for the most in that moment, but he didn't realize until fate picked for him.

It's not that he would have wanted the other option, either. Frankly, if he had known this was going to happen, he would have sacrificed himself. He... he can't live like this.

But he's going to.

It hurts like hell. Papyrus is going to be a crying mess to find out. Sans isn't looking forward to it. He isn't ready for any of this. He wasn't ready for any of this at all.

And they had no idea what was going on.

You know... if they had died, this would be easier. There wouldn't have been that spark of hope. There wouldn't have been that light in their eyes. There wouldn't have been that sudden realization that everything they'd done together up until that point no longer meant anything. There wouldn't have been that sudden realization that... he no longer meant anything to them.

But like this, he'd watch them get back on their feet. Get to see their smile again. Get to see them get a life again...

You know... without him this time.

He could tell them what life they had. He could tell them of everything that had happened. But that didn't seem fair. It was downright selfish.

Heh... if they were given the chance to restart... and fall for some guy that's not some slob of a monster like him... well, he's not going to question the decisions of fate.

How much good has that done for him in the past, anyhow?

Sing Me a Song (Joseph Liebgott x reader)

Can be read as a reader or OFC piece. I was playing around with writing in first person.

The song referenced is Only Forever by Bing Crosby.

Warnings: um...none really. fluff?

Tags: @evelynshelby​

It was a cold, white hell. Snow covered everything. Well everything that had not been destroyed by the most recent barrage. The air was frigid, the cold seeping into my clothes until it felt like my bones had been replaced with icicles. Splintered trees surrounded us, an ode to the destruction we faced. Stains on the ground reminded us where someone had been hit, either injured or died.

 The only thing that made this place even remotely tolerable was my fellow paratroopers...and him. 

 I sat next to Muck, sides pressed against one another with the idea of sharing warmth. Even if neither one of us had warmth to share. Our legs dangled over the side of Luz's foxhole, listening to him and Malark joke about something. A few other guys were around, listening in and adding their own commentary. Specifically, he sat across from me in the foxhole, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, fingers tapping out a silent beat on his thigh. 

 I remember the exact moment I met Joseph Liebgott. I knew he would be trouble for me. That messy hair, dark eyes and the don't-fuck-with-me attitude. Sure I found that attractive and his dry humor always made me laugh. Although his stubbornness and ability to pick a fight with almost anyone did irk me. He was untouchable. It was obvious he was a ladies-man, and knew it. I was...well, not someone typically picked up at a bar. I had always been alright with my lack of male attention, but for once, I wish I knew how to charm and flirt, to beguile a man and have the audacity to kiss one. 

 But that was not me. So I sat and watched from the sidelines. 

"What the fuck are they singing about now?" Liebgott complained, glaring across the no-man's land between us and the Germans in the Bois Jacques. 

 Sure enough, German singing could be heard, carrying with the wind. They seemed to be singing more lately, either to boost their own morale or annoy the Americans. 

 It sure got a rise out of some of the paratroopers. 

 "They just serenading you, Joe." Malark joked then called over to a passing Sergeant, "Ain't that right, Lip?"

 Lipton just shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. "Whatever you say, Malark. You boys make sure to keep your heads down. Ma'am too." He kept walking, probably to find Dike.  

 I giggled, smiling as Lipton walked away. No matter how many times I told him to stop, he still called me 'ma'am'. Something about it being disrespectful and even in the middle of a war his mother would find him and spank him with her wooden spoon if she thought he was being disrespectful. 

 Liebgott kept scowling. "Well I wish they'd shut the fuck up." He mumbled something under his breath, running a hand through his shaggy hair. 

 "Oh I see, you prefer me to serenade you." Luz smiled. "I mean, all you had to do was ask, really. Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping…"

 "Shut it. I'm sick of your singing." 

 "Joe…" I reprimanded softly. He glanced over at me and gave the briefest of winks. That simple action, every time, always set my cheeks ablaze and a fire in my belly. I scrubbed a hand over my face, praying no one saw how flustered I was. 

 "Well what do you want? Not a lot of options here, unless you know where some band is hiding nearby." Muck said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. 

 "Shit, I don't know. I just miss music, good music I guess. Always had the radio playing in my cab."

 My heart broke at the forlorn look on his face. We all had our moments where the longing for home, to be anywhere but this terrible place, overwhelmed us. It was up to our friends around to cheer us up, however they could, but lately it was getting harder and harder to do. The constant threat of bombardment, the frigid cold, lack of food and watching our friends get injured and/or die. It killed the small hints of hope left in us. That we would survive. That we would escape this place.  

 He drummed his fingers against his thigh, some song probably playing in his head. Even those around us had grown silent, lost in their own memories of before. Who knew such a simple thing as music could be so meaningful. 

 "I'll sing for you."

 Then I realized the words I blurted out. Shit. 

 "Yeah? You sing?"

 Luz butted in. "Since when do you sing? And why are we hearing about this now? We could have been singing duets this whole time!" 

 I ignored him, keeping my eyes on Liebgott. "I used to sing in school. Nothing special."

 That may have been the biggest lie of my life. I used to sing all the time, whenever I could. I even sang for our local radio a couple times. Then war happened. It did not feel right to sing during training, just gave Sobel another reason to despise me, and here surrounded by blood and bullets, I did not even think about it. 

 For him though, I would do it. To make him smile in this frozen hell. I would sing for him. 

 "What are you going to sing?"

 "What would you like?"

 He paused for a moment before smirking. "Surprise me."

 Well there was no going back now. Butterflies were throwing a lively party in my belly, my hands were sweaty and my mind continued to berate me for my idiotic decisions. I pushed it all away. I had survived D-Day. I had helped take Carentan. I had fought at the Crossroads. I could sing one song for the man that made my knees weak with a wink. 

 Right?

 Shit. 

 Carefully I stood up, dusting the snow off my ODs as I mentally chose a song. What did I want to sing? In my mind I imagined myself back home, the sun shining on my face, sand between my toes and the sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the beach. Then I imagined him next to me. A huge smile on his face, like the ones from back in Toccoa when he would hide Guarnere's boots just to see him furious and swearing to make even a sailor blush. 

 So I closed my eyes, opened my mouth and let the song pour forth. 

 Do I want to be with you

As the years come and go

Only forever

If you care to know.

Would I grant all your wishes

And be proud of the task

Only forever

If someone should ask.

How long would it take me

To be near if you beckon?

Off hand I would figure

Less than a second.

Do you think I'll remember 

How you looked when you smile?

Only forever 

That's puttin' it mild. 

 When I finished the song, barely a sound was heard. Self-conscious, I opened my eyes to meet the stares and dropped jaws of my fellow paratroopers.  

 I met those dark eyes that I adored and softly said, "happy Hanukkah, Joe."

 Then my nerves gave out and I quickly dropped back down to sit next to Muck. 

 "What the hell was that? Were you planning on keep that from us this whole time?" Luz demanded, looking both offended and awed. 

 I just shrugged. 

 "That was beautiful." Muck whispered, nudging me in the side. 

 "Thank you."

 Buck called my name from behind, so I turned to see all the officers standing nearby probably making a plan since Dike was not around. Honestly I was mortified that they had heard also but the smiles on their faces alleviated some of the anxiety. "From now on, only you should be singing for Easy."

 "Hey!" Luz placed a hand over his heart, cigarette between his fingers. "You wound me, Buck. You love my singing."

 "Keep telling yourself that, George."

 Smiling at their silly antics, I was glad the attention was momentarily off me but I knew it would not be for long. It had felt good to sing again. I wondered if my self-imposed denial was without merit. If it boosted the morale of my friends, was it selfish of me to hold back? I figured I should talk to Doc about it later. He gave the best advice.  

 "You sang that….for me?"

 The question startled me out of my musings. I looked over the foxhole to see Liebgott staring at me with an intensity I had never seen before. It made a fire grow in my belly and my toes curl.  

 I nodded, biting my chapped lip. 

 His eyes bore into mine for a long moment. Then without warning, he shoved off the side of the foxhole he sat on and in two steps stood before me. Before a word could escape me, his lips crushed against mine with an almost bruising passion. 

 It felt as if the world faded away and the only thing that mattered was his soft, equally chapped lips, his warm breath and the feeling of his hands cupping my cheeks. Once my brain restarted, I kissed him back with equal passion. For a moment I was unsure if this was a dream or real. Either way I intended to enjoy it. I knocked his helmet off so I could card my fingers through his messy hair like I had fantasized about so many times. It was greasy and dirty but it was perfect. 

 Eventually the world resumed and I could hear the hooting and cheering of the guys around us. I pulled back slightly from Liebgott, my cheeks flaming from more than just the cold. 

 "Hell of a kiss you laid on her, Joe." Malarkey teased. 

 "Hell of a dame." Liebgott replied, his eyes never leaving mine as one of his thumbs brushed gently over my swollen, bottom lip. I could not help the small smile, amazed that this was real. 

 Quickly he snuck a brief kiss once more before pulling himself up and sitting next to me, his arm tucking me into his side. Not that I complained.

 "Why don't you kiss me after I sing to you? Huh?" Luz pouted but the huge smile on his face gave him away. 

 "I guess you didn't know the right song." 

 They laughed at my joke, the tension that typically hung over us like an axe gone for the time. The guys heckled one another and tried to convince me to sing again amidst pretending to recreate The Kiss scene Liebgott and I just gave them, like some high school play. 

 The snow and cold seeped through our clothes, threatening that we would never feel warmth again. The enemy sat in wait not far from us. For now, I pretended those dangers were imaginary. I laughed as Luz tried to sing like me, only to fail spectacularly, and be bombarded with snow balls. 

 Most of all, I felt a fresh breath of life in me as I scooted closer and laid my head on Liebgott's shoulder, his arm tight around my side. The faintest press of a kiss on the top of my head made my smile grow. 

 I wondered if I should have sang months ago or maybe it was this moment, that finally allowed me to show him how I felt. 

 His fingers thread through mine, and I realized it did not matter. I was happy. And that was something I planned on never letting go. 

Family holiday over, no more pills, all the lost weight gained back, returned home.

Time to get back on track baby.

BACK-ON-TRACK CHALLENGE

This challenge is gonna be an interlude before I restart the previous one, or create a new version. The goal is to go back to where I left the last challenge, which was around 61 kg but I'm gonna aim at 60, as fast as possible. And, well, the word fast must be of interest here, (the devil is in the details) as it is what makes this challenge different from the other two in two ways. However, the rules of the Long-term Sustainable Weight Loss Challenge applies here as well. I'll list the new and updated ones.

Rules:

Fast on your period week. By the no-more-pills thing, I meant the diabetes pill, but I will still be on the birth control one for god knows how long. When I'm taking it, it's literally impossible to fast bc it fucks up your stomach. So, I have 7 days in a month in which I'll be on my period to only drink water. The fast should be at least 24 hours long and not more than 72; the reason being my dad - a doc - thinks starving yourself is already unhealthy and, though I'm quite stubborn, he won't let me do it for more than 3 days. But, we're still negotiating, lol.

Eat no more than 1400 calories and 100 g carbs after a fast, and 1000 calories and 70 g carbs following your period. OK, so, this is how it's gonna work. I'm gonna fast 1 to 3 days on my period week, right? After it ends, I will eat 1400 calories and 100 g carbs until my period is over, which is supposed to last until next Monday. After I'm done with my period, my calorie and carbs limit will be, respectively, 1000 and 70. The limits of the break will be mentioned later.

Strictly two meals. Yes, even before a shower. I decided to risk fainting in the shower like I always kinda do even when I'm high-restricting. I'll try to shower fast and get the fuck out before I fall and hit my head somewhere, or straight-up die, lmao.

Try to walk at least half an hour thrice a week. Baby. I know. I know it's hard. I know the weather's too hot. I know you lost all your muscles. I know you're dizzy. I know, baby, but we need to do this. We're gonna start working out alongside walking (and maybe running) after reaching 60 kg, so we need to get ready. And, yeah, I will walk even when I'm on my period, just perhaps not on days I'm fasting. But, might try that as well if I feel good, you know. I should probably ask my dad though.

Weigh yourself weekly, except when fasting. I'll step on the scale each morning of the fast days to motivate myself, and on the conditions mentioned below.

No breaks unless the weight loss process has stopped completely. When I stop losing weight, what I'm gonna do, instead of eating like a fucking beast, is to lower my calories and/or carbs, exercise more, or eat one meal a day. If the weight loss stopped, I'll weigh myself daily until I see that I started losing weight; and if I gained weight, until I weigh less than the previous week. If this shit doesn't work in three days, only then I will take a break, and, even then, I'll eat at most my maintenance calories, which is 1700, with no limits to carbs.

I will start the challenge tomorrow on August 9.

I'm not sure about doing another challenge with no time limit, but, we'll see I guess. I just hope that this fasting thing makes things... faster, lmao.

wip whenever

cheers for the tag @damejudyhench. This (quite long) excerpt is kind of cheating because it’s actually being removed from my next chapter (and just referred to briefly by Jaq instead) but here is something from Felix’s POV as he attempts to watch a tossball match and is instead distracted by having to convince Jaq to go for it with Phineas.

I think most people have been tagged but just in case, tagging in @antoncrane @lamiahypnosia and @saltunafish

“I call shotgun on the shower!” Felix yelled, bounding up the stairs of the Unreliable two at a time.

The boss made an irritable noise but they didn’t argue and he heard the familiar sound of the captain’s chair creaking as they settled into it. They were probably going to contact the Doc anyway, he thought. They usually did whenever they returned from a mission.

They’d been on Monarch almost a week, beating back the bandits who were attacking the supply routes and delaying the rations making it out from Stellar Bay to rest of the settlements. It had been heavy going, but with the support of the Iconoclasts they had eventually cleared the route. Felix had hoped they’d have been due some sort of reward on return to the city but instead Jaq had spent several hours in meetings with Mr Nandi and Zora, and rather than hang around listening to them talk politics he had drifted over to Left Field to catch up on the tossball league. There were games on tonight he didn’t want to miss.

He stripped off rapidly and dove under the showerhead before the water had finished warming up. He shivered and puffed out his cheeks, working to scrub the marauder blood from his skin. The pressure wasn’t as good as he’d gotten used to on the Hope but it would suffice in washing out the stains and the smell of sulphur from his hair.

By the time the steam had started to rise in the bathroom and obscure the mirror, he was done and out, wrapping himself in a thread-bare towel before darting down the corridor with soggy feet. SAM would get to the puddles before Jaq was done chatting, he could still hear their voice echoing up from the cockpit, and very faintly in the background, the familiar laugh of Doc Welles.

He was glad to be back aboard the Unreliable but Felix did miss the Hope, more than he’d expected. At first he’d been disappointed when Jaq had told him he was staying behind and missing out on the adventures they were having but he’d discovered it was actually pretty good fun getting to rebuild the abandoned facility and help out with experiments. That and it was nice hanging with the younger lab techs and watching tossball with them.

Oh, shit! If he was quick he might catch the end of the Hammers game before Rangers v Backers kicked off.

Felix bounded down the hallway and into the mess, snagging a case of zero-gees from the fridge and a bag of spacer-chips. It sounded like Jaq was still finishing up their conversation so he flicked on the aetherwave and flopped down on the sofa.

It was nearing the end of the first quarter when Jaq finally emerged from their room. They dropped down beside him and Felix passed them a bottle of zero-gee that had grown lukewarm in the time it had taken them to freshen up.

“Everything ok with the Doc?”

He sure hoped so. The old man was surprisingly fun to be around, always ushering Felix over when he had a cool new chemical to show him or something really weird happened with an experiment. And Phineas never made him feel stupid, even when he had to ask for the super long science words to be explained. The Doc would get all excited and break it down for him so he could understand and Felix was starting to get a grasp on some of the processes that went on in the lab.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Jaq replied taking a long swig on their drink. “One of the door mechanisms had jammed in the crew quarters and apparently the team of four bio-chemists he sent to fix it couldn’t figure out the wiring.”

Yeah, Felix could imagine that all too well. In his time aboard the Hope he’d discovered half those lab-coated so-called geniuses couldn’t figure out how to build a bunk or salvage the workable bits from an old air-scrubber.

Jaq snorted and took another swig. “Anyway, Phin wanted me to talk him through the electrics whilst he had the panel open. He’s fixed it now.”

“That’s good. He’ll be disappointed he missed the Hammer’s game though.”

Jaq gave him a confused look.

“Phin watches tossball? I thought he hated it,” they said, as a crunching tackle sent a chorus of cheers up from the crowd watching in the stands and Felix punched the air.

He reached for the chips and stuffed down a handful before nodding. “I’ve been teaching him the rules. He seemed real surprised how much maths is involved. I never really thought of it like that, but anyway, he’s kinda starting to get the plays. I think.”

“Huh. And he supports the Hammers?”

Felix frowned. “Well, yeah, obviously. I said he had to pick a team and he asked who your team was and I said you backed the Hammers but that was a real bad choice because their twenty-eighth back has been injured all season and they don’t have a good defensive play and – oh come on, ref!”

The replay showed the towering Rizzo’s fifth back hurling the Backers forward off the ball.

“Anyway. I did warn him but I guess it makes sense he’d pick them, to avoid rows and stuff. I mean, I could never date anyone who didn’t support the Rangers. No offense, boss.”

There was a sudden spluttering noise from beside him and when Felix finally dragged his eyes away from the aetherwave Jaq was wiping frothy suds from their mouth with a damp sleeve. They gave another cough before taking a tentative sip.

“We’re not . . . dating,” they said eventually and Felix didn’t miss the red glow to the back of their neck.

“Oh, really?” That didn’t make any sense. “But you talk over the secure transmission all the time and he’s always real happy afterward, like bobbing around the lab and humming and stuff.” Felix scratched his head and turned back to the game in time to see a two man tackle go in on a forward who’d begun a promising darting run at goal. He winced as the player hit the deck with a thud picked up clearly by the mics.

“Really?”

Jaq didn’t seem to be paying attention to the game and Felix really wanted to concentrate on it but they were being kind of weird so he nodded. “Yeah, and he talks about you all the time. It’s always, ‘Jaq did this’ and ‘Jaq said that’ and ‘Jaq’s a big hero.’”

It was kind of fun actually. Phineas always wanted to hear all the cool adventures the crew had been on and he never seemed to get tired of Felix talking about what life used to be like aboard the Unreliable. He’d always listen intently and chuckle at things or ask questions about the boss and the others. Well, mostly the boss, now he really thought about it.

“You really aren’t . . . like . . . a thing? But didn’t he stay in your bed that time?” he asked with a grimace. He liked the two of them and it was nice to think they might be happy together but he really, really didn’t want to think about them smashing asteroids. Gross.

Jaq’s neck was about as red as a landing beacon at this point and Felix decided it was best not to look in their direction.

“I told you before, the camp bed is uncomfortable,” they muttered.

Felix shrugged and went in for another handful of chips. Jaq really didn’t seem interested in the food and they’d finished their beer but were still picking at the label on the empty bottle, swilling the last of the dregs.

“So, you think . . ?

The Rangers’ forward pack were beating their way through the Wednesday zone now, repelling backs left right and centre. He fidgeted in his seat, gripping the edge of the sofa as they battered through the last defensive line on the way to the goal . . .

“You think he might be interested in me?”

Felix whooped, diving out of his seat and spraying crumbs across the floor. “What a shot!”

He punched the air, grinning with elation before dropping back onto the sofa. Jaq didn’t seem very excited about the goal.

“Sure, boss. Trust me, I’ve watched loads of serials, I know what a proper romance looks like.”

Felix drained the last of his zero-gee whilst the teams set up for the restart. If Rangers kept this up then he would be collecting his winnings from Left Field tomorrow morning before they got back to work. He was contemplating whether he might be able to afford a new souvenir jersey when a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Wait, hang on,” he said, turning to Jaq who was staring into space. “If you and the Doc weren’t busy raising profits that night then Ellie owes me 20 bits!”

Name: Emmy

Writing Blog URL(s): @pastelsicheng​

What fandom(s) do you write for?: NCT

Age: 19

Nationality: Canadian

Languages: fluent-ish in English, French, Urdu, Hindi, Pujarati, Punjabi, Arabic (listed in order from languages I can speak/read/write in, to languages I can't write/read/speak but can understand)

Star Sign: Aries

MBTI: INFP-T

Favorite color: I like most colours but I always just say purple 

Favorite food: Khow Suey. Idk how to describe it in English but it’s like noodles that you mix with like thick yellow curry and chicken tarkari, and you can put fried onions on top and what I call samosa crumbs (basically the crunchy dough you use for samosas, it’s like the dough fried alone and you just crush it and put it on top), and I add a bit of ketchup too cause its noodles and it's so good

Favorite ice cream flavor: Cookies and cream, or just basic french vanilla

Favorite animal: I love most of them hahah but I will say elephants

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?: Coffee most likely but I love tea more

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Open my own cafe

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?: Control time

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?: No thank you I don't want to live through this again

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?: 100 chicken-sized horses because I heard chickens eat people so uhhh no thanks 

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?: The overachieving nerd/student council president. That’s literally what I was

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?: Yes. Aliens and ghosts and demons, they’re all real. Not fairies and vampires and werewolves tho. 

Do you have a role model? If so, who?: There’s definitely people I look up to and try to learn from for various things, but I don’t think I have like one solid role model

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?: I used to be a tomboy when I was a kid, and probably still am deep inside

When did you post your first piece? 

January 2020

Why did you start writing on Tumblr? 

I found it easier to gain feedback and find an audience of readers on Tumblr, plus the site was just easier for me to navigate compared to like Wattpad

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? 

I write anything I feel like writing, and am open to trying new stuff. I just won’t write smut. I don’t feel comfortable writing or reading it

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?

I write x readers

Who is your favorite person to write about?

I don’t have a favourite person, mainly because I pick people based on who I think would fit a certain concept best. I guess my favourite would be y/n LOL because y/n is in every fic and I put myself into their character.

What inspires you to write?

I just like writing. I get a lot of ideas of stuff I want to write, and as a kid I wanted to be an author, but that obviously isn’t happening anytime soon so I just write fanfics. They’re easier to write because characters are already developed for you, and they don’t have a word limit to how long and short they need to be compared to actual OC fics

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?

Anything that relates to normal people, I enjoy writing. I like to insert my own experiences and thoughts in my stories so I write scenarios that I can imagine myself in or things I’ve experienced already, stuff like that

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?

I just want them to enjoy what I write. I’d like for my fics to be memorable, but idk if they are lol

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?

I just don’t write. It’s bad but I don’t want to write something that I don’t like so I don’t force myself to write when I don’t feel like it. If it takes me months to get out of that rough spot, then oh well. I don’t want to force myself to do anything that would make me hate writing, since it's one of the only few hobbies of mine.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?

Most successful is murder replay. My favourite is an unreleased fic that I’m still working on. It’s pretty self-indulgent, and I talk about internal conflict with sexuality and not knowing what you really want, alongside being insecure and having mental illnesses. It’s angsty but it’s one of my favourites because of how much of myself I’ve poured into it

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? 

It’s the same. Aside from the character being a real life person, fanfiction is the exact same as prose because it’s completely original ideas and thoughts, completely original sentences, and in general just the exact same as original prose. There’s like no difference.

What do you think makes a good story?

A writer who enjoys what they’re doing. It doesn’t matter your skill level or your language skills, or whatever. If you are passionate about what you write, then it will be evident in the story, and it will be a great story. There’s other things like the story idea and genre, but that’s all dependent on the reader. What I think makes a good story is different from what someone else thinks makes a good story. But in general, it’s the author that makes it good. You can tell if the writer really liked what they were doing, or if they were just writing for the sake of throwing words on a document and then calling it a day.

What is your writing process like?

Get an idea. Make a doc with that idea. Either immediately try and develop details, or leave the idea as is for months, maybe years. After developing the details, write the beginning of the fic, a few scenes I really liked, and then call it a day and never open the document for a few months again lol. Then I wait until I’m in the mood to write for that specific fic, and then I will write as much as I can. Finishing fics is a struggle, I’ve yet to finish my longer ones lol. I have a terrible writing process. The only way I really finish is if I already told my followers i will post it and theyre all waiting for it. Then I feel bad leaving people hanging and so it motivates me to finish. But yeah once I actually finish it, I throw it into grammarly and some other editors, fix stuff up, and publish.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?

Doubt it. Once I’m done with a fic, I’m done. I don’t really want to go back and change anything. Even the longer fics that I love, I get sick of them and so I just dont want to touch them once they're done.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?

I’m a huge sucker for childhood best friends to lovers lol. I have gushed about this on my blog a few times. Just the fact that you know someone for that long, and even been through arguments and times of not talking to each other, just to still come back to each other, thats real love even if its platonic. I’m just a sucker for that stuff. I also really enjoy anything that I, as a normal person, can relate to so high school AUs, college AUs, platonic AUs, anything real life based. There’s no tropes that I can’t stand, just tropes I don’t find interest in or don’t read much.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? 

Depends on how long i took to write the fic. If it’s a short piece ranging between a few hundred words to maybe a couple thousand words then I don’t really care much because chances are I didn’t take long to write it. My pieces that are longer than 5k, I care about because those are usually the ones more close to my heart, and the ones I spent way more time than necessary working on. Even just one reader telling me they enjoyed my story makes my day 

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?

I know murder replay which is my current biggest story blew up, and I feel like part of it was because of the frequent updating I did. I kept a schedule and made sure to stick with it, even changing parts of the story to fit feedback from readers. Consistency was definitely key, and also engaging with readers. Replying to all their reblogs even if it was just tags they added, constantly expressing how grateful I am, stuff like that because it makes people feel that they’re validated as well. And I guess the general idea/trope of the fic was interesting to people too

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?

Yeah lol. It’s definitely something I hide from everyone I know in real life because I dont want to be looked down on. 

Do you think art can be a medium for change?

Yes!! Art defies boundaries set by language, especially visual art. Stories are a good way to express things to people who don’t understand why something is the way it is, it’s literally what has been done by humans since the start of time. We pass down stories explaining things. 

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?

Yeah, sometimes when I felt really burnt out, I felt I had to post an update or something just so that my followers got what they kinda signed up for when they followed me. It was partially just the pressure I put onto myself I guess because my followers are always supportive and understanding when I say I cant post an update. I’d also say in general there’s a part of me that wants to write for others too. I would be lying if I said I only write for myself because that’s not true. The whole reason I write and post is because I want some reader interaction and feedback, and if I truly did only write for myself I wouldn’t be posting.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? 

Not yet! And I hope I don’t have to experience that lol

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?

Nope. No one does. It’s something I wanna keep to myself. Even some of my other internet friends don’t know.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?

I purposely send a bunch of messages because I feel bad leaving people on read so I just keep sending hearts and stuff to express my love but also just so that you can end the convo when you feel like.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?

Go for it! It might be scary to get criticism, but I promise there are way more nice people on Tumblr than there are mean people. In fact I haven’t even interacted or met with a mean anon or person on here yet. Also the only way to really start is to go for it. I get anxious too every time I post something, even now, and honestly its just a feeling ya know. Its just chemicals in your body. So don’t stress, and if you always need someone to boost your ego and promote your work you have me! 

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? 

Nope

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? 

The memorable ones are Mimu, Nini, Gwen, Philo, and Krystal who were supportive of murder replay. Also sunflower anon and peace sign anon, and recently Jo has been really supportive.

Pick a quote to end your interview with

“...the universe is basically like a machine. I don’t know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or capital-G God, or whatever. But it chugs along the way it’s supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly . . . things happen for a reason.” Leo Valdez in The House of Hades (so technically Riordan lol)

BONUS: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

Interested in your very own episode of The Sunny Show? Find out how to apply here.

Hi. Golly Prompt: Holly gets stuck in a Groundhog Day loop.

Sorry this took so long, Weedy, but here you go:

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

Holly hit the button on her alarm clock and enjoyed the slight burn as she stretched her muscles.  Five o’clock in the morning was an unnecessary time to be awake.  It wasn’t that she was a morning person per say but she enjoyed running and the only way to guarantee a run with her crazy schedule was if she got up early enough to do it.  

Glancing at her phone she saw a text from her favorite snarky cop.

“Wookiees are less hairy than this guy.  And probably smell better. I don’t know what the Superintendent was thinking.  If this is the best I can get I should give up men entirely.” 

Of course, Gail was complaining about another one of her mother’s set-ups.  Holly hated the pleasant way her stomach flipped at the thought of Gail giving up on men.  She knew that she was being ridiculous.  That she shouldn’t be happy that her friend’s date had turned out to be a fiasco.  Gail was straight and it was just a hopeless crush.  And she did want Gail to be happy.  She did.  If going on Elaine-approved dates was the way to it then she would support Gail no matter.  

Meanwhile, she’d keep pining away.  And running.  The running helped.

She had just gotten out of the shower when she saw a new message on her phone.  She hated the sinking feeling when the disappointment crashed down that it was only Lisa (who would kill her for thinking such a thing). It really was becoming a hapless crush. 

The text was a reminder of the date that Lisa had set up for her that night.  See, she wasn’t a completely hopeless lesbian.  Just because she was falling hard for Gail didn’t mean she had completely written off her own chances at finding someone else. She pushed away the memory of Lisa coercing her into said date at their last “Whine and Cheese” night.

Still she made a mental note to leave work early enough to give her a chance to wash the smell of the lab off of her.

Heading into work, there was still some snow on the ground so her commute took a little longer than usual.  As luck would have it, she walked in to find the object of her affection waiting for her with a coffee.

“Did you lose your phone, Lunchbox?”

Holly felt her pocket. Her phone was there.

Gail followed her motions and arched one of her perfect eyebrows, “You didn’t answer my texts.”

“Oh, sorry, guess I got distracted this morning.”

“Were you exercising?”  

The look of disdain was adorable and Holly couldn’t stop herself from chuckling.  “You know I do every morning.”

‘Gross.” Gail’s face had Holly’s head shaking with affection. The blonde officer hopped onto Holly’s desk as the pathologist sank into her chair, coffee in hand. 

“You know there are better ways to burn calories.”

“So I’ve heard.” Holly muttered into the cup, mostly to herself. A little bit louder than intended for the universe to take note.

“How long has it been, anyway?”

She groaned, “You really should bring me more than coffee if you want to have this conversation at this time in the morning.”

“It’s just a question.”

For Holly, it hardly felt as innocent as Gail made it sound.  The last time Gail was “just asking questions” had been at Frank and Noelle’s wedding.  As much as Holly may want to, kissing Gail at work in order to shut her up probably wasn’t the best idea. Maybe? No, probably not. 

“Was there something else you wanted to talk about that brought you to the groundhog’s lair?”

Gail let out a suffering sigh as she collapsed onto one of the stools and started spinning, “Superintendent Peck has yet another date set up for me.  I think as a medical professional you should explain to her the definition of insanity.”

“How is it insanity?”

“You sure you’re a doctor?  Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

“You do know that Albert Einstein didn’t actually say that?  In fact, the first evidence of even a similar quote appeared in a Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet circa 1981.  Although, in 1892 Max Nordou-”

“Will you save me from both the history lesson and my mother’s fruitless endeavors?”

Holly really wanted to push Gail to find out why she continued to go on these “dates” if she didn’t think they’d actually amount to anything.  She also really wanted to ask her why she didn’t think they would.  But the mention of the night reminded her of her own date.  

“I can’t.”

“Why not? Didn’t you promise to do no harm?”

Holly contemplated telling Gail about her date that night.  About how she had been set up herself.  She also wanted to tell Gail about why she had been avoiding dating.  But she couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Luckily she was saved from answering when the radio on Gail’s shoulder crackled to life.  She listened for a minute before hopping off of Holly’s desk and grabbing her coffee.

“Criminals need to learn to sleep in.”

“I thought crime never sleeps.”

Gail rolled her eyes at the quip but Holly could still see her smile.  “Smell ya later, Nerd.”

Holly let out a deep exhale.  She hated to see Gail go, but damn she really loved to watch her walk away.  

Unfortunately the sound of glass breaking and Rodney shouting a “Sorry, Doc” forced her from her ogling and back to her job.  It was going to be a long day.

—

Rushing into the bar, Holly hated how flustered she felt.  Trying to salvage the samples during the day had taken longer than she would’ve liked and she had barely had time to change her clothes let alone figure out a place to go.  It was how she ended up at the Penny.  

Glancing around she didn’t see anyone matching the description of her date for the night.  She headed towards the bar.  She needed a little liquid courage to steady her nerves.

“Hellooo.”

She wanted to blame it on the shock, but Holly knew that it was just the sight of Gail that had her heart quickening.  She tried to fight it but could feel the smile overtake her.

Gail looked at the bartender, “Can you make it two?”

“Hey. I didn’t know you’d be here.”  She had chosen the Penny because it was close and she was late.  She also thought Gail would’ve been on a Superintendent approved date, not hanging out at the well-known cop bar. That or it was because she was a masochist.

“Yeah, Dov is on a new trivia kick and he’s not going to let us leave until he’s crowned king of the dorks.”

Holly knew that as much as she might protest, Gail really did like her friends.  Or she was just really desperate to not go on that blind date.  Holly tried not to get her hopes up though.

“Hey why don’t you let me get this one and you can get the next round.” 

Gail was already gesturing to the bartender when Holly remembered why she was really there that night.

“Actually, umm I’m meeting someone.”

The reality of her situation had disappointment settling deep in her gut. She knew that she would rather be anywhere, doing anything with Gail than pretty much anyone else. But she also knew that it wasn’t healthy to keep pining the way she was.

“Oh. Sorry.” 

It was dark but Holly was pretty sure Gail looked disappointed too.  The soft way she apologized cut deeper than it should’ve.  Holly probably should’ve just told Gail that morning and saved both of them the awkwardness they were in. 

Holly couldn’t stop herself from reaching for Gail’s arm. “Don’t be sorry.”

Gail shrugged and took a sip from her drink, seemingly recovered from the set back, “Is it like someone or someone someone?”

Holly swallowed hard at the way pink lips played with the straw.  “I don’t know yet.” She offered.

She vaguely heard the bell over the door, but when she glanced over she saw someone matching the picture Lisa had sent. “Oh.”  That was her cue.  “Thanks for the drink.”

“No worries.”

As hard as it was, Holly pulled herself away from Gail and plastered a smile on her face.  Heading towards her date, Holly greeted the woman with a hug.  Maybe it was a little overkill but she needed to get over Gail and this was the way to do it.

So she spent the night laughing a little too loud, she leaned a little too close into each touch, she bought a little too many drinks, and when her date offered to get out of there Holly followed her out a little too quickly.  And she most definitely didn’t look back on her way out the door for a little too long.

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

Holly hit the button on her alarm clock.  5am, really was an ungodly hour, but she stretched her muscles anyway.  She kind of hated herself.  She had had the perfect opportunity to get laid the night before and instead had decided to go home alone.  This crush on Gail was ridiculous.  It had been a perfectly fine date.  Beautiful.  Smart.  Funny.  And yet when Holly had walked her to her front door and had gotten the offer for a nightcap.  She balked.  God, she was stupid.

Holly glanced at her phone and noticed a text from Gail.  

“Wookiees are less hairy than this guy.  And probably smell better. I don’t know what the Superintendent was thinking. If this is the best I can get I should give up men entirely.” 

What the...Holly reached for her glasses and sat up.  She could’ve sworn Gail had sent that message the previous morning.  And hadn’t Holly seen her at the bar? Gail hadn’t gone on any dates.  She glanced at the date on her phone.  

February 2nd.  

But that was yesterday.  Assuming her phone was broken, she restarted it, and went for her run.  

Holly had just gotten out of the shower when she went to check if her phone was fixed.  She saw a new message on her phone.  It was the same reminder of the date from Lisa.  Either her phone was messing with her or she had had the most realistic dream the night before.  She opened a browser on her phone, hoping for some clarity, but even Google said it was still Groundhog’s day.  

Holly hit the call button.

“Hey sexy.”

“Hey Lis, what’s today’s date?”

“Did you finally fry that big brain of yours with all those nasty chemicals you play with?”

“Just answer my question.”

“It’s February 2nd.  But more importantly it’s your date night.”

Holly’s stomach clenched painfully, “Right.”

“You didn’t forget or worse you didn’t get any ideas of cancelling did you?”

“No,”  She ran a hand through her hair, “no I just had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Well as much as I’d love to hear about your sex dream about me I have to go, I have an early surgery I need to scrub into.  I’ll text you the details for your date.  Love you.”

Holly stared at her phone.  It had to have been a dream.  A realistic dream.  Just a really realistic dream.

--

She was late heading into work, both from her checking the date a thousand times and from the snow making the commute long.  But her car, the radio, and her phone continued to claim it was still February 2nd so Holly decided to accept it.  

She stopped when she found Gail waiting for her with a coffee.

“Did you lose your phone, Lunchbox?  You didn’t answer my texts.” The deja vu was making her head hurt.

“Uh, sorry, it was having some issues this morning.”  Or she was. Just a ridiculously realistic dream, Holly reminded herself.

“Were you exercising?”  

The look of disdain was just as adorable as she had imagined and Holly let out an awkward chuckle.

“Gross.  You know there are better ways to burn calories.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“How long has it been?”

Okay, the similarities were too much to handle.

“Longer than it should’ve been”  Holly wanted to kick herself when she realized that she had said the words out loud.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

Gail glanced at her phone let out a suffering sigh as she collapsed onto one of the stools and started spinning, Holly waited but she knew what was coming next.

 “Superintendent Peck has yet another date set up for me.  I think as a medical professional you should explain to her the definition of insanity.”

Holly played along, “How is it insanity?”

“You sure you’re a doctor?  Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

Funny.  Holly was pretty sure she was doing everything over again.

“You do know that Albert Einstein didn’t actually say that?  In fact the first evidence of even a similar quote appeared in a Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet circa 1981.  Although in 1892 Max Nordou-”

“Will you save me from both the history lesson and my mother’s fruitless endeavors?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? Didn’t you promise to do no harm?”

Holly didn’t answer and waited for the radio on Gail’s shoulder to crackle to life.  Sure enough, she listened for a minute before hopping off of Holly’s stool and grabbing her coffee.

“Criminals need to learn to sleep in.”

Holly nodded, she couldn’t do much else with the knots in her stomach.  Deja vu or dream, it didn’t matter this was fucking weird.  

The sound of glass breaking and Rodney shouting a “Sorry, Doc” forced her into action.  It was already a long day and she wasn’t even done with breakfast yet.

—

Rushing into the bar, Holly was still late from trying to salvage the samples during the day.  Glancing around she didn’t see anyone matching the description of her date for the night (or the person she had dreamt).  She headed towards the bar.  

“Hellooo.”

Holly jumped.  She had been hoping that maybe only the first half of the day would’ve been like her dream but no here was Gail, exactly where Holly had imagined she’d be.

Gail looked at the bartender, “Can you make it two?”

“Hey. I didn’t know you’d be here.”  Except she did know.  Damn her dream had been spot on.  

“Yeah, Dov is on a new trivia kick and he’s not going to let us leave until he’s crowned king of the dorks.  Hey, why don’t you let me get this one and you can get the next round?” 

“Actually, umm I’m meeting someone.”

The disappointment still settled deep in her gut, even knowing that the previous night had only been a dream.

“Oh.  Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.”

“Is it like someone or someone someone.”

“I don’t know yet.”

She heard the bell over the door and when she glanced over she saw her date.  “Thanks for the drink.”

“No worries.”

Holly went through the motions with a smile on her face.  She greeted the woman with a hug,  she spent the night laughing a little too loud, she leaned into all the touches, she bought drinks, and when her date offered to get out of there Holly followed her out.  But when she glanced back on her way out.  Gail was nowhere to be seen.

This time when Holly was offered a nightcap she decided to take the woman up on the offer.  How many times did people get a do-over anyway? 

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

Holly hit the button on her alarm clock.  It was 5am and she stretched her muscles.   She kind of hated herself.  The sex wasn’t great.  It had been a long time and Holly figured she deserved to have a little fun.  But when it was over she couldn’t bring herself to stay.  She headed back to her own bed more than a little disappointed.  She had hoped that sleep would’ve been enough to make her feel better.  

Holly glanced at her phone and noticed a text from Gail.  Her stomach sank further.  Gail.  Holly was pretty sure that the blonde copper was a huge reason that she couldn’t enjoy the night before the way she should’ve.  She hadn’t been able to get Gail out of her head and it hadn’t been fair to her date.  Ugh.  She opened the message.

“Wookiees are less hairy than this guy.  And probably smell better. I don’t know what the Superintendent was thinking. If this is the best I can get I should give up men entirely.” 

Okay, what the fuck? Her dreams could be vivid but this was too weird.  Checking the date on her phone, it was definitely still February 2nd. Holly shook her head.  A dream within a dream.  What were the odds? She scrolled through her phone.  There were no messages from Lisa telling her about her date or asking how it went.  There was no messages from the woman in question.  Nothing else from work or anyone else.  No, really, what the actual fuck?  

Holly was a little desperate as she looked for anything that said that she was wrong about the date.  She even went to the nearest coffee stand to check the morning paper but nope it was still February 2nd.  Realizing that she had wasted her morning, Holly went about the motions of heading into work. She purposefully ignored the text message she saw come in from Lisa.

Seeing Gail standing there with coffee made her heart race in a different way than usual.  

“Did you-”

“What’s today’s date?”

“I was about to ask if you lost your phone before I was so rudely interrupted but I guess that answers my question.”

“Don’t mess with me, what day is it?”  

“It’s February 2nd, Lunchbox.  You know, that day of the year that a bunch of losers gather around to get excited about a large squirrel predicting the weather. Really it’s pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat. What a hype.”

“Yesterday was February 2nd.”

“No, yesterday was February 1st and one of the worst dates to have ever happened.  Seriously my mother set a new terrible standard.”

“No, it was February 2nd and I had a date.”

“You told me you had to work late last night. Remember the double homicide in the park on Breadalbane? Seriously how late did you work that you don’t even know what day it is.”

“No that was the day before.  Last night I ran into you at the Penny.  You were playing trivia with Dov.”

“How’d you know that the king of the dorks was on a trivia kick? I mean he’s there every night but I wasn’t with them last night.”

“But…”

Gail’s radio crackled to life.  She listened for a minute.  “I have to go but you should really drink that coffee.”

Holly watched her go.  She wasn’t sure what was going on.  But whatever it was, was fucking nuts.  Or she was.

The sound of glass breaking caused her to jump.

“Sorry, Doc”.  This day couldn’t get longer if it tried.

---

Holly took her time heading to the bar.  She was still distracted trying to figure out how she had managed to experience the same day three times in a row.  Once she could blame on her dreams.  Twice maybe deja vu.  But the entire day had played out exactly as before.  Including Lisa setting her up on this date and her having to spend the day cleaning up the broken samples.  She was so distracted by her thoughts that she was genuinely surprised when she heard the …. 

“Hellooo.”

She couldn’t stop the shock to her system.  Maybe it was just being on edge.  Or maybe and more likely it was that Holly couldn’t help her body’s reaction to Gail’s proximity.  

Gail looked at the bartender, “Can you make it two?”

“Hey.”   

“Couldn’t resist trivia night?”

The awkwardness somehow never dissipated no matter how many times she went through having to tell the woman that she wanted to date that she was actually going on a date with someone else.  “Actually, umm I’m meeting someone.”

“Oh.  Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.”

“Is it like someone or someone someone.”

Holly huffed, “I don’t know yet.”

She didn’t even have to look over when she heard the bell.  “Thanks for the drink.”

“No worries.”

Maybe third time was the charm and she just didn’t know it.  So Holly tried again.  She laughed at the same jokes.  She leaned into all the touches.  She walked her date to her apartment.  And knowing exactly what the woman liked, Holly tried to distract herself with mindless sex.

But her brain never turned off and her body definitely wasn’t turned on.  She didn’t even bother trying for a real orgasm before she headed home and hoped that this time when she woke, she wouldn’t remember the night. 

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

The second her alarm went off, Holly checked her phone.  February 2nd.  And the same damn text from Gail.

Fuck!

She was definitely reliving the same day.  But why? How?  This was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not real life.  It wasn’t possible to get stuck in a time loop.  Well, maybe it was possible.  Physics certainly hadn’t disproved it.  So maybe it was possible.  But if she was stuck in time and getting to the live the day again and again, maybe she should try to enjoy it.

Afterall, she had always wanted a motorcycle.

---

After spending most of the day indulging things she had always wanted.  It was time for her date.  Even if she was reliving the same day, she didn’t want to deal with Lisa’s wrath.  But this time Holly decided to skip the Penny this time.  She didn’t want to run into Gail and deal with the disappointment that always seem to come with having to turn down her drink offer.  It was such a simple thing but if she kept having to do this day over she must be doing something wrong.  Maybe she just wasn’t giving her date enough of a chance to work out.  

And the night had gone well.  Holly had picked her up and taken her to a fancy dinner across town.  She enjoyed riding around the city, even if she secretly wanted someone else with their arms wrapped around her.  

But that wasn’t the point of tonight.

She finally pulled up in front of her building.  

“Lisa didn’t mention that you rode a motorcycle.”

“Oh, yeah, well I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try new things.”

“Yeah? What other things have you been willing to try?”

It was easy to be confident when you had already had a couple of trial runs.

“How about we go in and I can show you rather than tell you.”

“Lead the way.”

 She was halfway to her door when she saw a figure sitting outside her door.

“Gail?”

Holly’s heart was pounding her chest as she watched the blonde scramble to her feet.  Even in the dark she could see a slight blush filling pale skin.

“Oh, uh, sorry, I uhh shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait!”

“No, you’re clearly busy, I shouldn’t have just dropped by.” 

Holly thought she heard Gail mumble something about being stupid.

“It’s fine.  What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No. Uh. Everything’s fine.  Just bored and figured you’d be home.  But clearly you weren’t and had better things to do so I’m going to let you get back to them.”

She didn’t know what to say but she couldn’t stop from staring even as Gail booked it out of sight.  She had almost forgotten she had company until she heard a frustrated sigh beside her.

“So I guess this was the complication Lisa had warned me about.”

“It’s not like -”  

“Goodnight Holly.”

With the damage done and Holly having two women walk out on her, she decided to call the day a wash.  If she ever needed a do-over, well, this was it.

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

Holly was relieved to wake and see it was still the 2nd.  She was a scientist and if there was anything a scientist was good at it was testing a hypothesis.  

She spent the better half of the day coming up with her plan.  She even called out of work to avoid anything distracting her.   And when the time came, she headed over to the Penny with one thing on her mind.

She spotted the table right away and instead of heading to the bar, Holly strode across the room with a different purpose.

‘Hey I didn’t expect to see you…”  

Holly cut off Gail’s greeting with her lips.  For a moment she felt it. Felt Gail’s lips move against her, press just a little bit harder, but the feeling was brief before she was pulling away.

“Wh-what are you doing, Holly?”

Holly didn’t expect the look of shock and fear on Gail’s face.  She watched Gail’s eyes dart around everywhere but to make contact with hers.  What had she been thinking?  Well she knew what she had been thinking.  She had thought that in all the days prior Gail might have been jealous.  That she might have been disappointed.  That maybe her feelings were for more than just friendship.  But clearly it had just been wishful thinking.

“Ummm….uhhh….I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have.  I should go.”

And she ran.  Ran right out of the bar.  Ran right home and into her bed.  If kissing Gail and finally acting on her feelings wasn’t enough to get her out of this time loop, nothing else would be.  She was trapped and worse, she finally knew that her stupid crush was just that.  And damn was it crushing.   

So much so that she felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs.  Panic.  She was actually panicking.  As her heart thudded hard in her chest, everything felt tight and small.  She struggled to take deeper breaths, knowing that there wasn’t much she could do but wait for the feeling of seemingly never-ending-doom to pass.

It took a while but finally the vice grip on her chest loosened.  As her breathing calmed, Holly wiped the sweat and tears from her face.  She hadn’t had a panic attack since medical school.  And she really hoped if she had to live this day again she wouldn’t have to experience that part of it.  

She was still struggling with pins and needles crawling against her skin when there was a knock on her door.  She tried to ignore it at first but then it got more persistent.  She did her best to compose herself before opening the door a crack.

“Gail?”  She opened it more, “What are you doing here?”

Gail didn’t say a word as she crossed the threshold of Holly’s home and crashed right into her.  This time the shock to her system was even more than the panic that had rocked her before when she finally registered that Gail was kissing her.  But unlike at the bar, Holly seized the moment, pulling the blonde against her and kissing her back with everything she had to offer.  

The first brush of her tongue into Gail’s mouth had the blonde moaning and Holly could feel herself already getting wet at the sound. She let herself get pushed against a wall.  Her head thudded hard and for a second she saw stars, but she was more than happy to let Gail have what she wanted. But it did remind her that things were moving and moving fast if the way Gail’s hands under her shirt (when had they gotten there?) were any indication.

“Wait,” Holly barely got the word out before Gail’s hungry mouth was on hers again. She was starting to cave again.  

“Wait.” She panted again, this time she pushed Gail slightly back by the shoulders.  The smouldering look in the blue eyes staring at her lips was almost too much. But Holly had to be strong.  

“What’s going on, Gail?  Why did you come here?”

“To finish what you started.”

Holly felt Gail start to lean in again, but she held firm.

“But you stopped us.”

Finally Gail pulled back, a frustrated sigh leaving swollen lips and the warm hands that had been against her were now running through blonde hair.  The cool rush against her skin had Holly questioning her sanity for stopping them in the first place. 

“We were in a bar surrounded by everyone I work with.  And you surprised me.  I didn’t-i didn’t know what to do.  But after you left I couldn’t think about anything else but you kissing you again.”

Holly didn’t need to hear much else. She took two tight fistfuls of Gail’s shirt and pulled hard. Gail crashed into her with little resistance, her lips were just as soft as Holly had always imagined but the kisses were anything but soft. It didn’t take long before she felt Gail’s hands against her skin again. They tightened against her sides and the way they burned was driving her insane, she reversed their positions. 

As she pressed a thigh between Gail’s legs, Gail finally broke and let out a gasp allowing Holly to move her attention to the pale neck that was stretched against the wall. Her mouth made its way down, nipping and sucking against the previously unblemished skin. She was probably leaving marks but she was too invested in what she was doing to care. And from the sounds Gail was making and the feeling of her hand in Holly’s hair, she figured the blonde didn’t care either. 

She started to pull at the hem of Gail’s shirt, “Is this -”

Suddenly the shirt was being tossed across the room and her own shirt was being pulled over her head. 

Gail looked at her seriously, “Don’t stop.”

The command sent a thrill down her spine and Holly didn’t waste any more time. They were both clumsy as Holly tried to maneuver them to her bedroom without them tripping over one another. It seemed that neither one wanted their lips to part for more than a few seconds.

After what felt like an eternity, Holly finally tumbled onto the bed pulling Gail with her. But being on the bottom wouldn’t do. At least not at first. Holly had wanted and waited for too long. She needed to have Gail all to herself. To feel her shaking under her mouth and hands. All her years of sporting can in handy as she easily flipped their positions. Gail looked surprised at first but as Holly reached for the button of her jeans, her attention shifted towards trying to shed the skinny pants as quickly as possible.

“Yours too.”

Holly hated to separate herself but was also more than happy to have as much skin as possible to press against the porcelain body in her bed. It all felt like a dream. Something that was too good to be true. 

“I thought I told you not to stop,” Gail’s voice was a low growl, it held no real chastisement but a hunger for more.

“Who’s stopping?”

Holly pressed her whole body against Gail’s, their mouths meeting in an almost lazy kiss, like they had all the time in the world.  Maybe they did. If Holly had learned anything from the last few days, it was that time was a relative concept. 

“I want to taste you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Gail asked, her legs spreading wider, inviting Holly in.

She wasn’t waiting. Not anymore. Holly made her way down. Taking her time to truly worship what she had been given. A gift that she wasn’t sure she’d ever have. But Gail seemed to have other plans, pushing Holly lower, faster. She wanted her too and she wanted her now it seemed.

Who was Holly to deny Gail anything? She parted pink lips and took a second to enjoy the sight of Gail wet and swollen and waiting for her before she dipped her tongue in. The slight tangy against her taste buds was everything and she savored it before she went to work. She dipped her tongue in deeper to warmth before sliding up to Gail’s clit. She started with a wide circle, heading back down to press into her before moving up again and again. Each time, the circle getting tighter.

She could feel Gail moving against her mouth, her hips rising and pushing against Holly harder and harder every time her tongue moved to her entrance. She could feel Gail getting more and more wound up.

“Hooooollllllly” Gail whined.

As much fun as she was having, she also wanted to make Gail cum. She wanted her to cum hard.

So she moved her hand up to take over, circling her clit again and again and her tongue pumped into Gail, deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, jesus fuck, yes, Holly,” Each of Gail’s cries, made Holly want to keep going, her tongue and fingers speeding up until finally Gail was tightening against her hand and her cries went silent as her orgasm overtook her.

Holly brought her down slower, she wanted to push for more but there would be time and she didn’t want to overwhelm the blonde. Gail was already whimpering and she felt Gail’s hands weakly pulling her back up. 

“Hey.” Gail’s voice was almost shy.

Holly pressed a gentle kiss to a flushed cheek. “Hey.” She settled herself more comfortably.

“Hey.” 

“You said that already”

“You know, it sounded familiar.” Gail’s voice was quiet and the words came out slowly.

Holly laughed as her hands traced lightly along Gail’s muscles. She could feel her own eyes getting heavier too.

She felt Gail’s hand sliding lower on her waist. As much as she wanted to be touched, she just wanted this too. Wanted to hold Gail and fall asleep with her beside her. So she caught her hand and pulled her closer. “Later.” And Holly drifted off into a peaceful sleep with the woman she wanted wrapped in her arms. Maybe living in a time loop wasn’t the worst thing. It had given her enough chances to finally do something right.

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

When her alarm went off, Holly was painfully aware of how empty her bed was.  She grabbed her phone.  February 2nd.

“God fucking damn it!” 

She threw her phone across the room. Tears were already blurring her vision as she pressed them hard with the heels of her hands. How?  How could she have everything she wanted and the day still not change?  Why would the universe show her what she could have and take it away like that?  What was she doing wrong?

---

Rushing into the police department, Holly wasn’t sure if she was making an even bigger mistake but she had to try. Well even if she was wrong, she’d probably have to do this all over again tomorrow anyway. She was glancing around the busy hallways, when she heard the voice she was looking for behind her.

“Holly, hey, what are you doing here?”

Oh right, Gail had no idea why Holly would be desperately seeking her out before they’d even had their morning coffees.

“I had to drop off a report on a murder from a few weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t the courier usually bring that stuff over.”

“Ummm, yeah, he was sick...or something.” Holly mumbled. She could barely look at Gail but it was clear that the blonde didn’t believe her.

“Hey, come here.” Holly pulled Gail into the nearest room.

“What’s going on?”

“Listen, I know that this is going to sound crazy but I have to tell you this. Because we tell each stuff. And that’s what’s so great about us. But I keep reliving today. This day.  February 2nd.  I know what’s going to happen tonight, this afternoon, I know what’s going to happen in the next hour, because I’ve already been here and done it. I know that I’m going to meet a great woman on a stupid set-up tonight and that even when everything goes perfectly that I’m still going to be thinking about you and wishing it was you with me instead. Because no matter what happens she isn’t you. I don’t know why it keeps happening and why I can’t move on. But the one thing that I do know is that I’d live this day a thousand times because the only thing that matters is that I get to spend it with you. Whatever happens tomorrow, or for the rest of my life, I’m happy as long as I’m with you.” Holly’s words were tumbling out faster and faster but she had to say them, even as Gail just looked at her intently. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you all this, it’s too much, I just -”

Holly was finally cut off by Gail’s lips in a kiss that melted her in a way that none of the previous encounters had.

Gail pulled back, still holding Holly’s face. “I’m sorry. You just, you just had to stop talking.”

“I won’t say another word.”

They stayed like that for a while. In their little bubble, with soft kisses and just enjoying the moment. When it was time for Gail to go back to work, she hovered by the door.

“I don;t know that I believe you’re stuck on a time loop but how about tonight, we both skip our set-ups and you take me to dinner instead.”

“Sound perfect.”

---

It was a perfect night. They talked and laughed and there were plenty of kisses. Gail decided to stay the night in borrowed pajamas curled up beside Holly. For once, Holly wasn’t filled with dread. Even if there was no tomorrow, she’d give anything to keep having days like today.

///

Then put your little hand in mine

There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

Babe

I got you babe I got you babe

Holly hit the button on her alarm clock but didn’t open her eyes. Not yet. 

“Who sets an alarm this early in the damn morning?” A grumpy voice beside her gumbled.

Her eyes flew open, Gail was still there in the clothes she had given her the night before. She grabbed her phone. No new messages. She looked at the date.

February 3rd.

“Sorry, you’re right. Go back to sleep. There’s no rush. We have all day.”

Princess, part 11

      [This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16.  Links to some of my other work are here.  Updates are theoretically biweekly. Next chapter is mostly done so I’m going to try to get it out later in August.]

Previous: Part 10

     Five days after Speedtest.  Three days after the isotope exchanger had worked enough for Flicker to restart her body chemistry.  Then a scramble of pain, healing, and memory triage before, finally, sleep.  She'd awakened, mentally fogged, to start a messy program of biological recovery and physical therapy, complicated by the need to spend more time in the isotope exchanger to reduce her not-immediately-lethal-but-still-a-problem radioactivity.  For her minds, a fuzzy time of finding and patching connections, habits, and memories that were temporarily broken, misplaced, distorted, or newly intrusive.  For respite, ghosting to Antarctica, gliding in the low sun over ice and cold air, never near anything living.  Sleep remained fitful.       Evening.  The last really needed isotope exchanger session done.  Body and mind were now holding together, even if neither were yet anywhere Flicker was particularly happy with.       Talking to Doc in his lab.  He frowned at a brain scan, some graphs, and a schematic of a cybernetic inductor.       "I checked in on your medibots, because you mentioned your start routine this morning was still rough.  Looks like your mind work was okay despite that, though?"       "Caffeine helped," said Flicker.       "And you can drink it again, and eat.  Progress.  I'm concerned at this scan though.  It still shows signs of cybernetic interface withdrawal.  I don't know how long that will last, given everything else.  How bad is the ennui and poor appetite?"       "Caffeine helped.  A little."       "Hm.  Not much we can do other than wait.  I had the Database forward the medibot scans and other information to Dr. Reinhart's partition."       "Thanks.  But I have a question."       "Yes?"       "You agreed to all of Dr. Reinhart's terms, including Database access, even though she's got a really questionable background, and doesn't want to meet or talk to you.  Her last message mentioned it wasn't an encouraging sign, because it meant I needed help pretty bad."       "Well, you do.  Frankly, I'd be more worried if she was cheerily optimistic.  And the Database picked her as the best choice.  Fortunately Jumping Spider knew a bit about her, and was willing to do that interview.  So I'm satisfied for now."       "I guess I don't get how you're okay with the uncertainty about a mind control expert."       "I did verify that she wasn't gaming the Database threat index.  The correlations are suggestive of a mission-oriented vigilante targeting actively harmful individuals with power that have little or no likelihood of being stopped or removed by other means.  Plus a few covert operations agents trying to kill her.  The threat index understates her effect, because she operates in realms where data is sparse and of poor quality.  As for the alleged mind control, it may just be a combination of psychological manipulation and some kind of hidden influence.  But there is no question she uses her reputation as an effective tool."       Doc waved a hand.  "And I have a reputation for being paranoid about mind control, which isn't going to make her more eager to meet me, is it?  Our security protocols may not be compatible, and I can think of several other potential good reasons for her to stay away.  But ultimately it doesn't matter.  She doesn't want to talk, so that's that.  She owes me nothing.  I wouldn't mind discussing mind control defense with her, and I don't like uncertainty any more than you do.  But I've had a couple more decades to get used to it.  I know I can't solve all the world's problems myself.  Priorities."       A crooked smile.  "Now, none of this means that you should accept everything she says uncritically, or that you should strive to emulate her, morally or otherwise.  And I'm sure she'll drop some unpleasant surprises on you.  But she agreed to help, and she certainly understands the stakes.  Are you having trouble with social boundaries again?"       "When did this become about me?"       Doc just looked at her.       "Okay, yeah."       "Boundaries are a difficult problem for you.  So I hope your work with Dr. Reinhart is productive, and that you eventually have an opportunity to discuss them with her."       *****       The next morning had certainly started off productive.  And difficult.  Flicker had been very much looking forward to finally recovering enough to talk--physically talk, with real air, vocal cords, sound, and hearing--to Dr. Stella Reinhart.       Flicker faced Dr. Reinhart in her office.  Stella.  She said to call her Stella.  She was in her late twenties, about 170 centimeters tall, with dark hair and green eyes, and wore jeans, boots, a leather jacket, and a work shirt.  She looked dangerous because she was dangerous, and had the sort of intent, purposeful expression Flicker had learned to watch for when evaluating an emergency site at high speed--if someone like that was running, it was a very good idea to find out why.       The office was bland, more often used by the assistant who handled paperwork for Stella's consulting business.  But there were comfortable chairs.  Stella sat in one, not behind the desk, after saying a few words about subconscious framing and symbolic barriers.  A cable ran from her laptop to the now thoroughly guarded office net connection and from there to the Database.  DASI was on duty, capital S for Security duty, with subtle and wide-ranging countermeasures.  Excessive?  DASI didn't think so, nor did Stella.  One less thing for Flicker to worry about, which helped.       The office was in a half empty building in a not particularly prosperous location, but it did have sliding doors opening onto a patio.  Dr. Reinhart had left them open to accommodate Flicker's claustrophobia.  Flicker had set up a portable force screen to keep out weather and complete the veil of security.       Flicker's speed mind idled, handling just alerts and safety.  She was talking with her physical body and brain only, entirely at human speed, about something stressful, with no help from speed mind.  Holding back was hard.  More so in the aftermath of Speedtest--her old problems with self-interrupting and awkward blurting had returned.  She chased thoughts and sentences faster than her mouth could complete them, as clumsily as when she was thirteen.       Embarrassment intruded as she veered and rambled, but Stella had suggested this starting test, after initial introductions.  Every verbal issue, every bit of awkwardness that she normally compensated for, everything she smoothed over, eliminated, or hid with speed, visor and Database--all that was data, that told Stella how the human half of Flicker's mind worked.  And Stella could use that as a baseline to probe how the high speed half of Flicker's mind worked, and how she coordinated.  So she endured.       Flicker stumbled to a stopping point.  She'd managed a partial, excessively wordy, and not entirely coherent description of her problems and goals.  She had digressed from and mangled her text summary, but talking out loud, in her own words, from her own mind, without notes, had been the point.       She took a calming breath and tried to untense.  This was the only part where talking was essential.  I can switch to text now if I really have to.       Stella smiled and thanked her, then turned to type at her computer.  Her exact words escaped as Flicker's speed mind started a flurry of mental replays and second-guessing, but the Database flashed 'Break time' on her visor.  Relief.  Out through the doors, speeding past land and human complication to the Pacific.       Slow coasting, well under 0.01c, while the two parts of her mind reintegrated.  A wordless reckoning that normally went one way--slow mind to fast on waking up, and back before sleep.  Tides flowing predictably over the sands of short term memory.  Now the flow went both ways, boats loading and unloading as both minds took turns at 'Let me put that in a better place...'       Still less stressful than the talking had been.  Even deciding when to breathe had been awkward--speed mind had smoothed that for so long she'd almost forgotten.       Fifteen minutes of waves and sunlight and motion.  Coasting along crests and troughs.  Manta rays breaching, sudden unexpected joy, a reminder that the world held marvels still happening.  It helped.  When she got the message to return, she was much calmer.       Back at the office, a quick smile from Stella.  "I have good data, and some preliminary assessments.  I'm afraid we're unlikely to complete your priority list any time soon.  One thing is clear; mind isolation during treatment is not a viable option.  Your 'speed mind' is essential to your functioning and current identity, even at normal speed.  So we'll work towards better coordination.  But I have some serious concerns."       A glance at her screen.  "I should emphasize my disclaimer:  This is a compassionate personal intervention in the absence of a qualified specialist.  I am not a clinician, my research methods would give an IRB heart attacks, et cetera.  And I have some reservations about the process by which I was selected.  I sent the full text to your Database earlier.  Did you read it?"       "Yes," said Flicker.  "I understand why you might need it for legal protection.  Also if you're, like, a serial killer who eats souls, I have Officially Been Warned."       "That works.  I still go to conferences, and I create enough controversy on my own.  It would be inconvenient to be widely banned from international travel.  But I imagine you still have some questions."       Flicker shrugged.  "I'm curious about a few things.  But if you weren't already doing weird superhero-adjacent and spyworld stuff,  I don't think you'd have the experience to help without researching me for a year first.  Anyway, go ahead."       Speed mind shifted and reversed, back in her normal mental dance, speeding up and slowing down to aid stability and coherence.  The desire to clarify and add to her awkward presentation to reduce social embarrassment was strong.  But it was time to listen.       "For your difficulty speaking," said Stella, "I agree with your Database AI that most of your returned problems should fade with social practice.  You appear to have optimized your verbal coordination in order to present as a neurotypical human, so any change would cause temporary issues."       "Because squishy brain is autistic.  And yeah I did.  It's a real pain to get strangers to listen if you don't talk 'normal human'."       "Your distress is understandable.  You do have traits in common with individuals with Asperger's and ADHD, but given your unique mind, it's probably best to view them as suggestive analogies--you have similar problems with similar coping mechanisms.  'Non-neurotypical' is as far as I'd go, and much of the cause may be consequences of the connection to your speed mind.  Other issues are clearer."       Stella leaned back in her chair.  "Such as PTSD.  You have layered coping mechanisms, but your Database stress history indicates that you tend to overwork or otherwise push yourself back to a ragged edge whenever you manage to achieve progress in reducing its effects."       Stella clasped her hands in front of her face.  "I doubt that dealing with the underlying issues will be an easy or quick task, but this is something you need to mitigate.  I'll try to help you set realistic expectations when I understand more.  One particular note.  I can't speak to Doc's own mental health.  But the elements of his work and life habits available for study indicate someone rather unhealthy for a PTSD sufferer to emulate.  And whatever he might say, you took early cues from what he did."       Stella frowned.  "Your memory problems...  I'm going to defer judgement on some of them until you've had more time to recover from your recent incident.  And there are a number of other potentially serious long-term conditions that I now consider less likely, but can't yet rule out.  But I am concerned that your Database AI already warned you about everything I've brought up so far, and some other issues that are more recent.  I'd recommend revisiting your heuristics."       Flicker spread her hands.  "I didn't ignore the Database.  I just couldn't do anything useful.  I patched what I could and kept going."       "That invites trouble when a new problem disturbs your patches."       "Well, yeah.  I get angry at things I can't fix.  So I put them out of my mind to stay sane."  Flicker looked away.  "At least out of my conscious, human mind.  Part of me remembers.  And stays angry."       She looked back and tried to smile.  "I sometimes joke that I haven't lost my mind; I keep backups.  Doc always retorted with how arduous it could be to try to restore from one.  And that a mental backup doesn't bring things back the same, because the world has moved on.  He was right.  I had to try to restore a few things I misplaced during Speedtest and it was a pain.  It stirs everything up, and I kept running across crap I'd stashed away because I couldn't deal, and I still couldn't deal because it was hitting all at once during a restore."       The smile probably looked more like a fixed grimace.  "So don't tell me about trouble and patches right now.  I know."       "Good," said Stella.  "I will be going over things that seem obvious.  People make tradeoffs, and mistakes, and I'd rather annoy you than miss any.  But I also understand that this session has been stressful for you, and you aren't fully recovered.  I can give you some initial recommendations and we can be done for the day, if you would like."       Flicker took a deep breath, then let it out.  "I'd like to keep going, now that I have my minds working together again.  It's just... I should have reworked my priority list after you told me how you wanted to start, and put my anger issues higher on it.  And there's this book I read, called Practical Power Dynamics..."       An alert flashed on Flicker's visor and she sped up.  The Database needed her override approval to resolve a convoluted permissions problem, which she granted.  Stella's base permission level was only equivalent to a trusted outside academic researcher, so approval requests were going to be common for a while.  Flicker slowed back down again to listen.       "Where did you get the edition you read?" asked Stella.  "It doesn't look like it was from the Database."       "No.  There was a version, but the Database didn't let me read that one.  There were a bunch of hazards and warnings.  The version I read is there now, I scanned it then locked it down.  Doc doesn't know about it.  I got it from Journeyman.  He said he traded a bibliomancer to reconstruct an original text copy.  Then let me read it, because he was worried and thought it might help me."       Stella put a hand to her forehead and studied her computer display.  "I see.  What that alleged bibliomancer did should not be possible.  But never mind that now.  Was your visor recording when you discussed it, and if so, would you be willing to share a transcript?"       "Sure."  Another bit of access granted.       Stella spoke slowly while scanning her screen.  "I'd like to ask a favor of you.  Please do not reread Practical Power Dynamics, or try to use any of the techniques, before I've had a chance to make some annotations for you.  And assume it's more dangerous to you than the author intended.  You read what appears to be an early draft that was never distributed."       Flicker frowned.  "How do you know that?"       "I wrote it."       "Oh, that's great!  I had a lot of questions, but I couldn't--I mean it was still dangerous.  But you can tell me what to watch out for.  I loved the humor, the way you made pieces fit that everyone just seems to assume or ignore.  And the parts about anger were..." Flicker trailed off.  "You don't look happy.  What's wrong?"       "Well, at least you weren't completely blind to the danger," said Stella.  "I started writing what became Practical Power Dynamics when I was about your age, at a time when I was not managing anger well.  I would not write that way today.  I need to see what I can do to defuse some hazards to you.  I wrote it as a vector for social engineering, and I didn't devote enough attention to second-order side effects in atypical individuals.  Even after I toned it down."       Flicker thought about that at speed for a while.  It made sense that Stella was worried.  Doc spent a lot of time worrying about extending methods to new domains, and the false sense of security you could feel because you were doing familiar things you'd done many times before.  The methods might only be safe because most of the unexpected failure modes had already been found--but a new domain could bring new ways to make horrible mistakes.  You just couldn't be sure.  That had been one of the main points of Speedtest.  There were a lot of things going on in Practical Power Dynamics, and Flicker's mind was a new domain for many of them.       "It didn't feel like it caused damage," she said.  "I didn't try any of the active techniques because I was warned about traps, but the insights helped."       "I can certainly understand why you liked it.  I wrote it to resonate, but that doesn't mean it helped."  Stella smiled wryly.  "The text you read has the potential to magnify a number of problems.  And even the distributed version was never intended for someone like you--I did not consider the psychological impact of absorbing the whole thing in under a minute.  Not to pry into restricted details, but have you by any chance experienced an episode of unjustified arrogance or megalomania recently?"       A sudden chill.       "...I know that feeling, it's Now I Am Invincible, it's incredibly dangerous for a superhero..."       "...maybe."  No, be clear. This is safety information.  "Yes."       "The book definitely didn't help with that."       "My partner thought it would help with something.  He wouldn't just..."       Stella frowned.  "It might have seemed appropriate as a form of disaster aversion.  A 'break glass in case of emergency' psychological reset to forestall something worse.  But not as a long term solution, and he'd know that."       Flicker closed her eyes.  "It wasn't and he did.  He's gone.  We aren't patrolling together anymore."       Flicker had been managing to compartmentalize up to that point.  Journeyman hadn't returned to Doc's HQ while she'd been recovering, or sent any message other than a brief note wishing her well.  She'd set aside awareness of that, and their last conversation, pretending he was just temporarily away again.       But their load-bearing social fiction had collapsed, leaving nothing but rubble.       Speed up.  Shift focus in speed mind.  Ignore her human emulation, it was working all too well.  Try a different perspective.       Consider the positive.  She'd learned too much during her time with him for reflexive avoidance of memory to be appropriate.  She had her own strength, her own self, her own plans, where he was but memory and data.  That could be a placeholder, a way to consider him as Flicker adjusted.  It was definitely less disruptive than an emotional shutdown.       Now slow down and return.  Emotion and context flooded back, but she had a reference point.       Her visor was beeping at her.  She opened her eyes, and saw the alerts--the reason for the beeping.       Warning: Situational awareness lost, Alert: Emotional crisis reaction signs, Alert: Potential dissociation trigger, Alert: Database permission upgrade request for Dr. Stella Reinhart--crisis context information.       She virtual typed to grant the permission.  Then straightened, her face under control.  This was her problem, not his.       The book dedication had been perfectly clear.  For Doc Future.  It's a trap.  She'd read it anyway.       So had Journeyman, but at least he hadn't ignored three blocks, eleven warnings, and 47 advisories, like she had.       Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  Stella was glaring intently at her laptop display and speedreading--a page for each tap.       Flicker took the opportunity to do breathing exercises and calm herself.       "What a mess," muttered Stella, as she continued to read.  "Flicker?"       "Yes?"       Tap.  Tap.  "I'm sorry, clinical detachment and academic objectivity aren't going to be sufficient for everything.  How do you feel about 'Angry woman on your side'?"       "That sounds nice, actually."       Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  "Good to know.  Also, do not ever underestimate your Database security AI.  She was on the phone with me for all but five seconds of the time between when you started to read Practical Power Dynamics and when she interrupted your fight with Journeyman to announce my tentative willingness to help.  And she called Jumping Spider to secure an emergency override in there, too.  I have a theory about that, but it's probably not something she's allowed to admit.  I'll see if I can sort through it.  Along with everything else.  This is going to take a while.  But..."       She paused in her paging.  "I'm curious about the last few months before you became partners with Journeyman.  The Database records are somewhat opaque.  You were patrolling sporadically, and it's clear you weren't very happy, but I'm wondering to what extent that was due to PTSD."       "I don't think about those months very much anymore," said Flicker.  "Doc tried a couple of things to try to get me to cheer up, like asking if I wanted to partner with Jetgirl.  I said no.  I mean, she's a good friend, and we have an arrangement where she can call me for support when she needs it, but she usually doesn't, so it would have been more like being a sidekick.  And I didn't want that.  Journeyman actually needed my help, so I could accept his as an equal."       She looked down.  "I wasn't feeling very connected during that time--not continuously, anyway.  I remember specific events, but I'd have to check the Database for a lot of the dates and chronology.  Everything after the Japan quake.  That was just before I turned fifteen, and... I didn't do too well."       Stella raised an eyebrow.  "The Database evaluates your actions as saving more lives than anyone else.  And it's not close."       "Well, but you should really account for speed.  I mean, if you scored a flower-picking contest just by numbers, I could win with speed, but that doesn't mean I'm good at it.  And... I don't like to talk about the quake.  There were some media bits trying to turn me into a hero of the response and... No.  Just no.  Not respectful.  They're still rebuilding and recovering and it's not my story to tell.  I usually keep it compartmentalized.  Mostly what I remember is to be wary of arrogance."       "Mm.  Would you be willing to tell me your viewpoint?  Your personal experience is most definitely yours to share."       "I suppose."  Flicker took a deep breath and looked back up.  "It wasn't bad for me personally.  I didn't get hurt.  It was just...  There'd been some warnings, but it was confusing because of foreshocks, so no one could really tell how bad it was going to be.  I got the alert from Breakpoint before the main quake hit--his Danger Sense went off and he wasn't even in Japan, so I knew it was going to be bad.  I didn't know where the epicenter was going to be exactly, so I just went off the Database's best estimate, and went up and down the coast writing giant kanji for 'Earthquake' in the air so people would know.  My plasma flash and shockwave boom actually helped there, because it got people to look out windows and see.       "Then the quake hit, and went on and on, and the estimates kept going up: it's 8.4; no, it's 8.6; no, it's 8.7; no, it's 8.8; no, it's fucking 9; it eventually turned out to be 9.1.  And then my Database com started dropping signal because my visor couldn't synchronize my position for tight beams any more.  I was used to really accurate position data, and everything had moved.  Everything was still moving.  Ground level wasn't ground level, and everything had literally gone sideways.  GPS was messed up, and the Database kept trying to correct for shit and it wasn't enough.  There was one error that caused trouble for a while that was from the Earth not rotating on the same axis any more.       "So, I'm running around with intermittent comms, stopping external debris and ripping the roofs off of buildings that were collapsing on people, then making the choices for intermediate floors for the big ones--do I rip it out?  Will that hurt the people who might ride it down more than having it fall will hurt the people below?  And can I get the debris out of the way fast enough without blinding and deafening everyone?  What kind of building is it?  I knew very little Japanese, and my visor translator was shit without Database support.  The hospitals were solid enough that I let them take their chances, because there just wasn't much I could usefully do, but a few of the nursing homes and big apartments with lots of old people were pretty bad.  I'd pulled collapsing buildings apart before, and it was like that, except... two thousand buildings at once.  And seeing all those scared people.       "And finally Doc got a message through, telling me I needed to punch a hole through to the ionosphere with rocks, because the Volunteer was on suborbital coming in as fast as he ever had and needed me to get the air out of way so he didn't kill anyone with his shockwave on arrival.  So I went up to a place called Fukushima and made a pathway for him, so he could keep a bunch of nuclear reactors from melting down, then went back to ripping apart buildings.  Until I got another message from Doc telling me I needed to let them go and start taking the edge off the tsunami."       Flicker looked out the doors.       "I thought, fuck that, I'll stop the tsunami.  It's just a wave, right?  Moving water, way offshore, no humans near, I could use all my speed and power.  Energy and momentum.  None greater than mine."       She shook her head.  "It wasn't just a wave.  A whole huge section of seabed had been stuck bent over like a big flat sheet of wood, then released.  One end went up like seven meters.  All the water above it went up too, and the surface was now above sea level.  And all that water had to go somewhere.       "It wasn't just a wave.  Water flows downhill.  Doc knew.       "I started with the lateral plasma sweeps and the shockwave hammer loops and the entrainment runs while I had the Database figure out just how much damage I'd do if I vaporized enough of the excess water to stop the tsunami.  Database took a long time."       She looked back at Stella.  "I could vaporize enough to stop it.  But--best case--it would kill five million people with a shockwave of plasma and superheated steam.  More likely fifty.  And fuck up the weather over the whole Northern hemisphere for months.  The floods from the rain alone would... anyway.  Stopping it was way worse.  So I just had to take the edge off as best I could.       "It was enough to let the Volunteer stabilize the reactors.  And I thought it would be enough for almost all the people, I really did.  And then the Database had enough data finally to tell me it wasn't."       "Why not?" asked Stella.       "The other end of the board.  A big stretch of the coast of Honshu dropped when the seabed rose.  What had been sea level--was now a meter below sea level.  And the ground above it, and the people on that ground, were now a meter lower.  So what looked safe--wasn't."       "I went back one last time to write more Kanji.  'Run.'  But not everyone could run.  And not everybody who could would leave behind the ones who couldn't."       "I did as much as I could," she said.  "Maybe too much, some places--reflections and a change in the shape of the seabed meant I likely made things worse in one spot.  But 'only' about two thousand people died in the tsunami.  Plus maybe fifty or so I killed trying to stop it.  Most of them in boats in really bad places, but they might have lived, except my shockwaves meant they didn't.  I couldn't... it was just 'Sorry, it's not your day, ever again'.       "Even after it started hitting I kept running around, clearing debris, trying to give people a little more time.  And then, finally, it was over, ebbing back, and Hideki and the Japanese superheroes were arriving, and Golden Valkyrie's Choosers, and all the emergency responders.  And all the ordinary people who helped.  If anyone was heroes it was them.       "I went on autopilot for a while, just followed Database instructions after my com was back, not trying to process, because I couldn't.  There was a weird voice yelling on my com whenever I saw bodies for a bit until I figured out it was me and stopped.  And... Well, I don't really remember much after that.  You can read about it in the Database if you want."       She waved a hand.  "You know what?  You want a hero?  K'Krowl the Younger.  Kaiju from the Deep Kingdoms.  Big lizard.  Lived up near the Aleutians.  He was headed south along the coast, on his way to attack Tokyo, when the quake hit.  He was underwater, I didn't know he was there.  And there was this boat.  Just... in the wrong place.  K'Krowl felt the quake and knew what it meant.  He headed inshore and surfaced, and just before the biggest wave hit he picked up the boat.  And held it in his arms.  Except I was coming down on a lateral plasma run, chopping away at the wave.  I'd seen the boat, and they were just... I mean, they weren't gonna live.  I had a massive entrained stream of plasma, steam, and seawater behind me.       "K'Krowl crouched over, and tucked that boat under his chin, and took the wave on his chest and my plasma on his back--I burned him bad, his upper back was just cooked.  But he kept his footing, and protected the people on the boat.  From the tsunami, and from me.  And when it was all over, he put the boat down at the shore, and waved to them, and went back into the water.  He decided he didn't want to attack Tokyo that day after all, and went home to heal.  Hardly anyone saw him except me and the people on the boat.  And with everything going on, no one else knew until the people he saved contacted the Deep Kingdoms embassy, and they ended up with a ceremony, and gave him a medal, and if anyone ever finally resolves the Tokyo Compromise, and turns the attacks into, like, ceremonial visits or something, it'll probably be him."       Flicker shook her head.  "K'Krowl the Younger.  That's a hero.  Not me.  I didn't get hurt, and mostly ran around a lot.  Nothing bad happened to me.  Not bad bad.  Just memories."       *****       Eventually, Flicker realized she'd been staring at the 'Low Situational Awareness' advisory on her visor for a long time, and came back to the present.  There was a text from Stella:  Let me know if and when you're ready to speak aloud.       Flicker focused on the room again.  Stella was frowning thoughtfully, tapping at her computer.       "I'm ready," said Flicker.  "Did you have questions?"       Stella looked up.  "I was a little curious where you got those death numbers.  They don't match the Database, and that's very unusual for you.  The death toll from the tsunami appears to be closer to 1,500, and you can only get close to 2,000 if you also include everyone in the area who was killed by the quake, went missing, or died for any other reason for the next week.  Or use one early, inaccurate media estimate."       She tapped her chin with a finger, still frowning.  "And I don't see any clear evidence to indicate that you were responsible for any excess deaths while mitigating the tsunami.  There were people you didn't save, but that's not remotely the same.  The only way I can get to your estimate of 50 is to take everyone dead or missing who started on a boat in the tsunami region, and everyone missing in the region who started on shore, but who had a boat that also went missing, and assume they were all alive before your intervention, all dead afterwards, and all would have survived if you'd done nothing."       She locked eyes with Flicker.  "There was exactly one boat that definitely had live people on it, was in your path, and could have been destroyed by you while they still had a possibility of surviving.  That was the boat K'Krowl picked up."       "Does it really matter?" said Flicker.       "Yes.  You're guilt-maximizing, and you need to stop.  It's not healthy.  Don't want to be a hero for this?  Fine.  But you helped."       Stella waved a hand.  "I'm not a hero.  I've done far worse things than you.  But I still try to help.  You really didn't want to talk about this and you want to stop, so we'll stop.  Perhaps sometime we can come back and get you a little better perspective.  But not now.  You're in worse shape than I thought."       "Well, I was technically dead for two days last week, so I suppose--"       "Not short term.  Long term.  You're better at compartmentalization, coping, and masking than I expected.  That means you've been better at hiding worse problems.  But it just means more work, for a longer time.  One thing I strongly recommend--no patrols for a while.  No going 'on duty'.  You can intervene in events classified by the Database as 'major disaster' or higher, or a serious threat to someone you know personally.  Otherwise find something else to do.  You need to recover, and not just from being dead."       "But--"       Softly:  "No.  Patrols."       Stella sighed.  "Are you familiar with boiling liquid expanding vapor explosions?"       Flicker blinked at the change of subject, then got the analogy.  "Yeah.  Can't always stop them so sometimes I just rip the tank to control the direction and shape of the explosion.  But I'm not close to blowing up.  I know how to reduce the pressure."       "I understand.  But we need to do some work the slow way--reduce the temperature first.  There are other things that might increase the pressure."       "You want more of a safety margin?"       "Yes.  I am reasonably good at giving advice, but bad at providing comfort," said Stella dryly.  "I'm not neurotypical either, and certain choices and events in my personal development shape my approach.  I have no desire for it to increase your difficulties."       "You seem pretty functional to me.  And--"       Stella shook her head.  "If I weren't able to convincingly project normalcy, I'd already be dead.  But I do have a talent for constructive distractions.  So, why don't we leave off diagnostics and recommendations for a little while and have something to eat instead--I took the precaution of preordering takeout.  Perhaps we can discuss a few things you might find interesting and less stressful."       "I'm not..."  Think, don't just react.  "Okay, that does sound good."       They ate, and talked, and it helped a little.  It was a start.

Next:  Part 12