#if i wrote it i feel like i'd have a section of angst where for some reason
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Just Another Lie~2
Summary : Billy works in the mechanic shop with Eddie, Eddie Munson. But he hasn't told you. He kept it away from you while you moved on in your life to be a mother, to Billy Hargrove child. What happens when things get ugly?
Tags : @ali-r3n
Angst
Part 1
Author's note : Just wrote this an hour before my birthday. Happy Birthday to me!
As the cool night air enveloped you two, Eddie and you lay on the grass, gazing up at the starry sky above. The twinkling stars seemed to dance above you two, as if they were putting on a show just for the two of you. As you lay there in silence, Eddie turned to you with a determined look in his eyes. 'I promise you, one day we will live where we both live happily,' he said with conviction.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and excitement wash over you at his words. Eddie was always full of big ideas and dreams, but this one seemed different. It was as if he truly believed that a happy ending was possible, and that he was determined to make it happen.
“ It’s going to be two of us surrounded by people we love, dreams happening and we will do it together. Take on the world” he says, turning his head as his gaze bore in on you. The smile on his face made you feel at ease and made you feel like it was all alright.
At school the following week was buzzing with excitement about the upcoming dance and everyone was busy making plans and preparations. Eddie and you happened to be seated next to each other in our English class and couldn't help but discuss prom plans during breaks in the lesson.
Eddie let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know, prom just seems like a big, overrated event to me. I'd much rather be hanging out with you at home, watching movies or something.'
You felt a twinge of disappointment but you didn't want to let it ruin the day t. 'Come on, Eddie. It's our senior prom, we have to make the most of it. Plus, I've been looking forward to this for so long and it wouldn't be the same without you.'
Eddie looked at you with a soft expression and you could tell he was considering your words. 'Okay, fine. I'll try to make the best of it for your sake.'
Your face beamed with happiness. Eddie laughed, noticing how your face lit up at his words.
You were adorable. The two of you would flirt all the time and everyone assumed the two of you were dating.
You had spent weeks searching for the perfect dress and shoes, and now it was time to focus on your hair. You had always dreamed of having a beautiful updo for prom, but you had no idea how to achieve it. That's when you turned to your mom, who was a master at styling hair.
When it was that time to go to prom, you had walked into your room with your mom greeting you. The smell of hairspray filled the room. She had set up a mini salon in your room, complete with all of her tools and products. You sat down in front of the mirror, and your mom immediately began combing through your hair, discussing different styles and options.
“ Did you ever end up telling Eddie how you feel, sweetheart?” she asks. You eyed her in your mirror.
How did she even know? Did she read your diary or something?
“ Mom” you groaned. She chuckled, and continued to comb your hair.
“ You can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. I’m your mother” you groaned, sifting in your seat.
“ Can we talk about anything else?” She squeezed your shoulder apologies if she overstepped.
Your mom started by sectioning off your hair and curling each section with a curling iron. As she worked, you two chatted about plans that Eddie had for the night and reminisced about her own prom experiences. It was a special bonding moment, and you were grateful to have your mom by your side for such an important event.
Let alone going to prom with Eddie. Your best friend. The boy that took your heart at first glance.
She added in some sparkly hair clips and a delicate flower crown, which added the perfect touch of glamor to your look. As she finished up, she gave you a quick spritz of hairspray and turned you towards the mirror.
You were in awe of your reflection. Your hair looked even better than you had imagined, and you couldn't wait to show it off at prom. Your mom beamed with pride as she admired her handiwork.
“ Look at you, all so pretty. You always are the prettiest out of everyone, my little girl” she leaned down to kiss your cheek. “ You’re going to rock it, tonight” you laughed looking over your shoulder at her.
“ Thanks, mom”
As you were getting your makeup on and dressed, your mom couldn’t stop telling you how beautiful you looked and teased how much Eddie would love you in the color you chose. A hint of red appeared on your cheeks, trying to look away and brush off the fact that she knew how you felt about Eddie.
“ Eddie is going to faint when he sees you, sweetheart”
“ Mom!” you shoot her a look but chuckled, not being mean or trying to yell at her. She put her hands up telling you she’s finally going to stop.
You couldn't wait to see your date, Eddie all dressed up in his tuxedo, ready to sweep you off your feet. He never liked wearing one of those things, but he promised he was going to rock it on what he chose out.
But as the minutes ticked by, your excitement turned into worry. Eddie was never late, he was always the punctual one. Maybe he got caught up in traffic, you thought. But as the time passed, the sinking feeling in your stomach grew.
You kept asking your mom if the phone had rang. But it didn’t.
Your mind raced with all sorts of scenarios, trying to make sense of why he hadn't shown up yet.
As the clock struck 7, the time you were supposed to leave for prom, you couldn't ignore the fact that Eddie was a no-show. Panic started to set in as you imagined the worst. Did something happen to him? Was he hurt? Did he change his mind about going to prom with you? The questions swirled in your mind, but you pushed them aside, not wanting to believe any of them.
“ He will be here, he promised” you kept telling your mom who gazed at you with longing and sadness. She knew how much you were looking forward to this night. It was special, to you anyways.
As the night went on, you couldn't help but feel heartbroken and betrayed. You had trusted Eddie, and he had let you down. All your dreams and hopes for a perfect prom night were shattered, and you couldn't understand why. The hours dragged on as you sat alone in your room, the sound of the music and laughter from prom night taunting you.
The next day, you were furious with Eddie. You saw him sitting laughing with his friends at the lunch table, the spot next to him being empty. Your spot. You stomped your way up to him with your hands on your hips and foot tapping on the ground.
“ Oh hi Y/N!” Dustin greets you with a cheery look on your face but your eyes are glaring hard at Eddie. He felt your presence and turned his head to see you standing there.
“ Oh Y/N! I-” you cut him off.
You started off calmly, “ I was really disappointed that you didn't show up to take me to prom last night. What happened?”
His face dropped once he realized what this is about, cleared his throat as he answered, “ I completely forgot about it. I got caught up with some other things.”
“But you promised me weeks ago that you would take me. Prom is a big deal, and it meant a lot to me to have you as my date.”
“ I know, I'm sorry. I just had a lot going on and it slipped my mind. I didn't mean to let you down.”
“ It's not just about letting me down, Eddie. It's about the fact that you didn't even bother to reach out and let me know you couldn't make it. I was waiting for you all dressed up and excited, and you didn't even bother to call.”
“I understand, and I feel terrible about it now. But at the time, I was so caught up in everything else that it didn't even occur to me.”
“ That's not a good excuse, Eddie. You knew how important this night was to me. It wall for nothing.”
“ Sweetheart..” he clasped his hands together. “ I know, and I'll make it up to you.” He adds.
“No, It's about the memories and the experience of going to prom with someone special. And now I'll never get to have that. I was hoping we’d create those memories…”
Eddie’s heart sank as he felt disappointed and guilty. His other plans were distracting and he had forgotten all about taking you to prom.
“I understand, and I'm truly sorry. I wish I could go back and change things. I know I messed up and I'll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
“ I appreciate that, but it's not just about making it right now. It's about the fact that you didn't prioritize me or our plans. I can't help but feel like I wasn't important enough to you.”
Eddie now felt even more guilty as he looked down in his lap feeling like he really messed up.
“That's not true, you are important to me. I just made a mistake and I'm really sorry for it.” He looked up with his brown eyes becoming glossy, holding back tears.
He was so pretty but you couldn’t just let this slide.
“I'll try to forgive you, but it's going to take some time. I hope you understand that I'm hurt and disappointed.”
“Sweetheart, I completely understand and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I promise to never let you down like this again.”
He tried to reach out to take your hand in his, but you stepped back.
“I appreciate your apology and I hope you've learned from this. But for now, I need some time to process everything and figure out if I can truly forgive you.”
You couldn’t understand what other plans he had that were so important that he had forgotten about taking you to prom. It wasn’t until you were in math class when you found out what those exact plans were.
‘So, how was your date with Eddie last night?' Chrissy’s friend asked, causing your eyes to immediately widen and head perk up and lean in a little closer.
Chrissy let out a dreamy sigh before responding, 'It was absolutely amazing. He took me out to Benny's and we had the most delicious food. And the best part? He remembered my favorite and ordered it for me’.
Your jaw clenched and hands balled into a fist. So where was he?
'That's so sweet of him,' Chrissy’s friend replied. 'What else did you guys do?'
Your nose twitched in anger. How could he do that to you?
'Well, after dinner we went for a walk in the park and talked for hours. I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him. We have so much in common and he just makes me laugh,' Chrissy gushed.
'Did he try to make a move on you?' Chrissy’s friend asked, making you lean in even closer to hear Chrissy's response. Yeah right, like Eddie had the guts to do anything with her. He was too shy to show any affection let alone touch a girl.
Chrissy let out a giggle before saying, 'Well, he did try to hold my hand when we were walking, but I think he was a little nervous. But it was cute, I could tell he really liked me.
'Well, I'm happy for you, Chrissy. You deserve someone who treats you like a princess,' the friend said, before excusing herself to use the bathroom.
By now, your pencil was broken down and you were in need to sharpen it. There was black hard dot on your paper too and you stopped writing notes for class that your eyes were locked on the back of Chrissy’s head. She had felt someone staring at her and turned to see it was you.
“ Do you need any help?” She asks you, sweetly.
Mustering a smile with a shake of your head, you gazed down muttering the words " lucky bitch” under your breath. You were jealous and hurt that Eddie chose her. What did she have that you didn’t?
Tears began to form in your eyes and you raised your hand to be excused. Your teacher saw that you were holding back tears and waved you off. You hurried to your locker to grab your books and head home.
As you walk outside you can't help but notice Billy Hargrove leaning against his car in the parking lot. You've never really spoken to him before, but you've heard all the rumors about him being the resident bad boy of Hawkins High. You try to avoid eye contact and make a beeline for your own car, but as you fumble with your keys, you can feel his gaze on you.
'Hey, you okay?' His voice startles you and you turn to see him walking towards you. You can't believe he's actually talking to you, and you can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
You try to play it cool and shrug, 'Yeah, I'm fine. Just a rough day.'
He nods, understanding, and leans against the car next to yours. Need a ride home? I see you're having some trouble with your keys there.' He smirks, and you can't help but let out a small laugh.
'Um, yeah, that would be great. Thank you.' You mumble, still in disbelief that Billy Hargrove is offering to drive you home.
As you climb into the passenger seat of his car, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. But as he starts the engine and drives out of the parking lot, you start to relax. Surprisingly, Billy is a good driver, and he even turns on some music to break the silence. As you drive through the familiar streets of Hawkins, you start to open up to Billy about your rough day.
“ Stupid men… stupid prom.. Stupid me..” you mumbled underneath your breath but Billy had caught it.
“ That loser doesn’t deserve you, and prom is overrated. You don’t need all that. You’re better than that” He tries to tell you to make you feel better, he’s not good with words but he is trying.
He has seen you plenty of times hanging around Eddie and his friends to know what you're like and he knows you're into Eddie too since it’s so obvious.
Before you know it, you're pulling up to your house. You thank Billy for the ride and start to get out of the car, but he stops you. 'Hey, if you ever need to talk or just need a ride, I'm around.' He gives you a small smile and you can't help but smile back.
You had never in your life time seen Billy Hargrove smile, maybe this was a new thing. Maybe you were meant to meet Billy and have him drive you home. For a moment you forgot that your car was still in the parking lot at school.
But you were sure someone would bring it back. You were in no mood to think about it.
But Eddie felt hurt when he found out that Billy Hargrove drove you home and found your car in the parking lot. He waited for you after school but you never showed up. He thought you might be home sick or something. But then, he heard from Lucas who heard from Dustin who heard from Robin that she saw you get into Billy Hargrove’s car.
Since when were you friends with Billy?
How could he have the audacity to approach you like that? It was like rubbing salt in the wound.
Eddie had always been jealous of Billy. He was everything that he wasn't - confident, rebellious, and popular. And now, it seemed like he was trying to steal the one thing that Eddie held dear - his friendship with you.
Eddie could feel his anger rising, his body tensing up as he clenched his fists.
He had always been there for you, through thick and thin. He had protected you from bullies, nursed you back to health when you were sick, and listened to your problems without judgment. And yet, it seemed like all of that meant nothing to you when suddenly Billy Hargrove happened.
Eddie knew he shouldn't be this upset. After all, you were free to talk to whoever you wanted. But he couldn't help the feeling of possessiveness that washed over him whenever Billy was involved. He didn't want to share you with anyone else, especially not with someone like Billy.
Wait, Eddie had to backtrack. He felt possessive? But the two of you were friends that flirted. But it was like a light bulb appeared on top of his head as Eddie understood what this was. Why did he feel the way he felt..
It wasn't just about jealousy either. Eddie was genuinely concerned for you. He knew Billy's reputation and the trouble he could bring. He didn't want you to get caught up in his dangerous lifestyle.
It was later he showed up at your door with your car parked near your house. He drove it there. He thought he was being thoughtful and nice about it. He raised his fist to the door and knocked on it, three times to be exact. It was his way of telling you that it’s him.
You threw the door open, an unhappy look on your face and had your arms across your chest with an eyebrow raised waiting for him to talk.
He frowned seeing the expression on your face and shifted from one foot to the other as he tried to find the words he wanted to say to you. But he came up with nothing. Your eyes fall to your car behind his shoulder.
“ Thanks for dropping off my car” you break the silence between you two. He nods as his head raises a bit and eyes lock with yours. He didn’t like this silence that has fallen between the two of you. It was uncomfortable and he didn’t like it.
“ You left with Billy Hargrove…” he started to say. Mentally he slapped himself for starting the conversation with that instead of asking how you were or if you were sick.
“ Yeah, and what of it?” you shrugged.
“ You know he’s not a good person”
“ Neither are you, Munson” he winced when you used his last name in a sentence. You only used his last name when you were really pissed at him. It seems like you were.
“ What did I do?” He asks.
You scoffed, “ You lied to me, Eddie Munson. You were doing things on prom night when you were on a date with Chrissy Cunnigham. Does that ring a bell?”
His eyes go wide and swallows the lump in his throat. How did you find out?
“ I bet you're wondering how I know. Your little girlfriend talks a lot”
“ She’s not my girlfriend-”
“ And I don’t care, are we done here?” you asked, ready to close the door on him. His lips go into a deep frown and his heart sinks to his stomach.
“ I’ve told you I’m sorry about not taking you to prom…I am going to make it up to you.. I told you…”
“ No you lied to me, you hurt me and you broke your promise Eddie.. I can’t forgive you.. Not now” He hung his head as he heavily sighed.
“ I’ll go” he mumbles and turns around to walk. You threw him an umbrella that you had from your bag by the door. Even though he hurt you, you still cared about him and worried about him. He caught it in his hands when you called out to him.
He had hoped you had something else to say to him and when he saw you gave him your umbrella, he had hope in his eyes.
“ It’s not your concern who I hang out with, Eddie or whom I talk to. We’re not dating… good luck with Chrissy.”
It was the last thing you told him before you closed the door for the night on him.
It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later when you found out where your friendship stood with him. It was nothing. After that night, he didn’t glance at you. He rarely spoke to you. He didn’t even hang out with you anymore or offer you to smoke with him.
Your friendship with him was sinking.
All you saw was he was with her. But you were with him. He made you feel better. He made the pain feel easier. He made it all better with one smile, one laugh and one gesture.
“ I don’t know what you see in him” you heard for the very first time his voice as he spoke to you. You looked around to see if he was talking to anyone else. But it was you.
“ So we're on speaking terms again, are we?” you asked, closing your book. Eddie rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the benches.
“ You’ve seen him go to your own little world thinking he’s all rainbows in whatever you two have “ Eddie continued.
“ I don’t believe I’ve asked your opinion” you mumbled about standing up and walking away. You didn’t need to hear anything from him. He hasn’t been a friend to you in a while now.
“ You’re going to hear it whether you like it or not '' He chuckled. “ You don’t get to walk like your tough shit, sweetheart..”
“ I’m not-” He shook his head, waving a finger in your face.
“ You don’t get to just walk with his arm around you like you owe this school. I’ve got the girl who does. You’ve only been nothing but a joke in this school…”
Your head snaps toward him, ready to slap him in the face if he needs it. It looks like he did because you have no idea who this is. Not Eddie anymore. Not the same person.
“ How many times did you have to suck Hargrove off to get where you are today? He takes you to parties, he lets you drive his loud ass Camaro, you reek of him. I bet you he’ll give you some disease and knock you up. Then, what? Who are you going to come crawling to? Who-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because you push him in between the bleachers as he falls.
“ Fuck you, Eddie Munson” you spatted at him. Those were the last words you said to him.
He regrets ever speaking to you like this. It wasn’t like him. But he was jealous that Billy Hargrove took you away from him. It wasn’t until graduation when he saw how happy you were with Billy. He watched Max fist bump her brother for graduating. You captured the moment on the camera, sneakily.
Chrissy was forgotten and he stood wearing his cap and gown, holding back tears. He always thought that he’d graduate with you and the two of you would end the year.
But it was his fault. It wasn’t his year. It wasn’t both your years it seems. But to Eddie it felt like it was your year.
When you turned to look at him to see him in the cap and gown, you almost cried. Even the two of you had a huge fall out and didn’t talk anymore, you were proud of him. You knew Wayne was proud of him. You sent him a small nod with a smile letting him know he did it, and you were happy for him.
He sent the nod and smile back to you, but it turned into a frown when Billy wrapped his arms around you. Jealousy flared up at him as he sighed to himself before Dustin jumped on him and tackled him to the ground.
Now, here you were years later, a mother and you were happy. You never really questioned your happiness. You always took care of your son and made sure he was happy. As long as he was happy, you were too.
Eddie overlooked Billy who was having his own lunch. The two sat in silence as one gazed at the other with a sandwich in his hands. Billy could feel Eddie’s eyes on him. It was starting to annoy him but he didn’t say anything feeling like if he didn’t then Eddie wouldn’t speak to him. Billy knew that Eddie had questions.
“ Are you two still together?” He asked. Billy stopped chewing the food he had in his mouth, sighing and dropped it on the plate. He didn’t look up at Eddie to know what look that Eddie had on his face.
“ Why does it matter to you?” Billy asks, once he swallowed his food and looked up at Eddie.
Eddie shrugged, “ I just thought she would leave Hawkins and move somewhere else…”
Billy chuckled, “ She couldn’t. This is home, her mom is here. Daniel was born here… I’m here” Billy added the last part to see the reaction on Eddie’s face. Eddie scrunched up his nose and looked away from Billy. Not wanting to see how he feels through his eyes.
Billy could read Eddie. They knew each other for quite some time.
“ She doesn’t talk about you if that’s what you want to hear. She’s over it. She’s moved on, but she doesn’t want to even think you exist… not after what you had told her.. What you put through her…”
“ What did I put her through?” Eddie glances back at Billy.
“ You’ve only disappointed her and hurt her”
“ No, I didn’t mean it. I was stupid back then, and it was a different time..”
“ She was your best friend and you screwed it up..”
Eddie nodded.
“... Do you think she’ll talk to me? Ever?”
“ I don’t know, you can try but I am not going to promise you anything, Munson. You’re on your own..”
“ But man… I thought we were friends….”
Billy stood up from his chair as he put the trash in the trash can and ran a hand through his hair.
“ This is something between you and her… “
“ You never answered my question, Hargrove”
“ Which is it?”
“ Are you two still together?”
“ What if we are? Billy’s eyebrow raised.
“ That’s not your concern about what I do” Eddie says.
Billy puts his hands on the table and leans forward, getting into Eddie’s face almost.
“ If you do anything to hurt her, say something to hurt her or use my son as a way to your advantage.. You’ll be sorry.. “ Billy grumbles. “ I promise you.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things x reader#jewls writes
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Timeloop for the wip game 👀 (I love me some time shenanigans)
me too!!! a timeloop story is the doomed hero trope on steroids and it's so good ❤❤
(*other timeloop ask for friends catching up)
besides the angst fun, what i'm most excited about for this WIP are the POV changes!! this fic is in three parts: Kim POV, Big POV, and Chay POV.
Kim POV: the angst. the fun. the drama. obviously because it's me, there's so much KimChay in this section, because Kim's awkwardly flirted with Chay before this and while he's telling himself all his hanging out with Chay means nothing, Chay's rolling out his big romance guns and Kim is being so swept off his feet. not only does he exhaust every reason to hang out with Chay, he also starts letting go of those excuses to hang out with Chay, because if everything resets come morning, it doesn't matter what he does with Chay now. except, of course it does, he is falling deep and his already weak excuses for why he certainly doesn't like Chay are crumbling under the weight of each loop. his days with Chay just get better and better until he has the perfect day with Chay. it wasn't even planned, things just fell naturally into a full day date where they played hooky and enjoyed their time together and a day full of spontaneity and genuine connection.
and it crushes Kim. that is a day he will never actually get back, not even in his memory, because Chay doesn't remember it. there's no point in even trying to recreate it, not only because a second time would ring hollow, but also Kim literally wouldn't be able to (i'm not explaining my timeloop physics in this post, but it's not groundhog day). Kim has the most perfect day with Chay and then gets absolutely run over realizing he has all these memories of and secrets from Chay that Chay will never be able to share with him again, and it rips him to shreds ❤
...okay, i didn't mean to just gush over the KimChay part of his POV like that, i'm just super pumped to write that angst. but actually tho, the first scene i wrote for this AU was the scene where Big gets a bullet in the head as the price for Kim's recklessness, because Kim's primary goal thru all of this is still to uncover Korn's secrets. in fact, this story had actually started shortly after i'd written like. two? lines of Kim & Big almost-friendship in my Silver for Truth fic draft, gone "hey, wait, omg" and then those musings bumped into my love for timeloop stories...some time shortly after that, and i just had. so many shenanigan ideas for these two in this context. then i immediately dived head first into the angst, but this was originally Kim & Big shenanigans.
i also did not realize i still have this many feelings to gush about Kim's POV alone tho so in the interest of trying to keep this post from getting too long, only teasers for the Big and Chay POVs because i'm evil:
Big POV: Big gets sucked into the timeloop sometime after Kim's mostly given up. Big is way too much of an overachiever to do nothing for eternity and decides he doesn't give a shit if Kim's being weird as shit, he's gonna damn well investigate this nonsense around Porsche himself because Kinn's fucking him already and Big does not want another fallout as bad as Tawan's, thank you very much. this eventually leads him to Chay, who is, much to Big's despair, not only the secret subject of Kim's affections (Big didn't even know Kim had those!), but also more insane than Porsche, Kim, and the entire timeloop combined. he also keeps making Big ponder the big questions like what he wants from life, Chay is just Big's personal handcrafted hell, someone save him.
Chay POV: Chay never enters the timeloop. writing his outside POV is so much fun 😈
[ WIP game ]
#kinnporsche#fic: fallout#im buzzing just thinking about Chay's POV but hmmm maybe i shouldn't spoil too much??#not that anyone will remember by the time i post but heheheheheheheheheee#WIP game
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E, J, K, V for the ask meme, so curious 😊
Fanfic ask meme
E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?
hmmmmm well y'all already know I LOVE writing extra bits for the wife-gary saga and the ga(r)y universe.... idk if I'd do full length sequels for any of the fics I've currently got posted bc I feel like once I've got the main plot out of my system that's IT especially ones which already span quite wide timelines... but I am Always happy to take prompts that relate to any of my fics/drabbles that I've got out there (I know I've slowed down a bit with filling prompts but to anyone who's sent one I have NOT forgotten you... I'm getting there... slowly....)
J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].
ooooooooh idk if I had any alternative endings for the few full length fics I've got.... like I just said I feel like when I write a fic that's me sort of getting it out of my system it's a bit like an exorcism of the Madness and then I'm like 'yeah that's done I'm happy with that' and find something new to feel insane about
K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?
honestly from what I've got at the moment it might be the happy (???) beville fic which is still a WIP - when I was posting sections I didn't fully explain the premise but it's basically an au where Gaz & Becks get together when they're very young and STAY together. that in itself causes a Whole Lot of angst and drama thanks to the 'professional footballer' thing but THEN you add carra into the mix and oooooooh boy. ooooh boy..
V: A secondary (or underrated) character you want to see more of in fic?
hmmmmmm....... Scholesy gets a decent bit of airtime in fics for this fandom so I won't say him even though I LOVE a Gaz & Scholesy dynamic.... honestly I think Roy is underutilised and, of course, BIG MEEKS!! I love him so so much he is like a ray of sunshine and he's been acting very fruity lately too which is a bonus. Plus as a player there's that weird dynamic of 'he has massive respect for Gary and says he's england's best right back in history BUT they were fighting for the same spot in the squad and Micah DID win. and now they have to work together on sky'
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Tagged by the very lovely @amoxilwrites who i love dearly <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Under the Scoops pseud, 23, but 30 total
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
967,370 as of this morning (HALP)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
DNF primarily, but i've written for Dan and Phil and Teen Wold and One Direction
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
I'll do just the DNF fics (because the highest one is for Teen Wolf)
Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
I've Never Fallen from Quite This High
The Curse and Cure of the Internet
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes, absolutely. I've made some fun acquaintances in my comment section, and even some friends. I like discussing my stories and comments are a great place to do that without being annoying or bragging or a million other things my anxiety likes to yell at me for. I love answering questions and talking back about theories, etc. I think I've really done a good job of fostering a good comment section!!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Um, it's a Scoops guarantee that my fics will have happy endings, but the angiest I would say is The Mushroom King and The Nightmare but I have other stories with angstier middles lol
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Lol, literally all of them I am such a sap
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I saw someone talk about me on tumblr once and they said I should drown, so? Not directly, but sorta? I dunno, it just makes me laugh. Sorry you didn't like my mpreg story, it was never that serious
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
Yup. I write all the things, with varying degrees of success. My smut is usually really emotionally focused with um lots of strange metaphor and a sprinkle of humor.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
No, but never say never. Does Deep in Dream count?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of! *fingers crossed*
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I had someone do a very bad podfic of one of my teen wolf fics--I say bad because it's a mechanical voice and half of it doesn't even work
13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Nope.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship
DNF, sterek, drarry (I know... I hate that JK Rowling ruined everything), Merthur, Phan
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
Currently? Hits Different, but I know I'll finished that one. Of my old WIPs, there's a dan and phil one I'd like to finish
16. What are your writing strengths?
HAHA, bro, I don't know. Tension? Dialogue? realistic angst? Making unrealistic tropes seem extremely plausible. You tell me, buddy
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Setting. I always forget about the setting until the last second. Um, I'm not sure what else? Ask Alison
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I'd prefer that if I can't figure it out in context, that it's written in italics or something and said to be that language. Unless the point of me as the reader not being able to understand is that I'm not supposed to understand along with the character, then that's fine.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Big sigh, Harry Potter. Then Teen Wolf
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Is anyone surprised? Deep in the Dream of a Game
Thanks for tagging me, Vesp!! This was very fun! I'm tagging @bottleofchaos @jestbee @sageafk @lucithornz I can't remember but I think Vesp tagged everyone else I would have tagged, but feel free to do it anyway <3
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1, 3 and 19? 👀
oooh these are some thinkers!!
1. what's the fic you're most proud of?
i'm going to cheat and do two because i'm proud of them for different reasons.
you'll know. is a fic that is almost 20k that i wrote without a deadline or any sort of external motivating factor. it's also a totally different format than i've ever written in, and with each section i tried to loop back to the previous one and make the connections and thread weaving the whole story together obvious, but not like i was hitting the reader over the head with it. i've got no clue how well i succeeded but i really enjoyed the exercise, and the end result is one i'm very pleased with!
wine, flowers, & blood i am proud of because the topic and theme was WAY outside my comfort zone. i've never really done a ton of supernatural/horror-y stuff; my writing tends to verge more on purple prose and lightly contrived problems that are easily resolved, not, like...murder and human sacrifice, lol. and i'm not going to pretend i delved too deep into it at all in this fic, but i so rarely even approach 'darker' themes and i think i really looked at this and didn't blink, and was able to make the atmosphere spooky and sid just the right amount of not-quite-right to keep the fic tense throughout.
3. what fic are you emotionally attached to?
talkin' bout, by far. it's a trope i'm terribly fond of, written for a friend i'm also terribly fond of. it was fun, it was extremely easy to write, and i think it's pretty good and a light, enjoyable read with a slightly unusual kink for spice!
i'm also a big fan of all my kinkfest fics for similar reasons; they were fun and low-stress and honestly i enjoyed the opportunity/excuse to lean into some self-indulgent smut without aspirations at being anything more than they actually are.
19. If you could write an ideal fic, what would it include?
gosh. this one is maybe the hardest one yet!!
ok, so i'm going to try and not be too specific because there are a lot of big projects i've got that i'd love to tackle when i have time and/or the self-motivation to really do some deep writing exercises sans a deadline, and i don't think any of them are more 'ideal' than the others or more of a priority for me.
so...
i think the ideal fic that i could write is one that is emotionally resonant. i'm not necessarily talking about angst (although there could definitely be some of that!), but you know those fics that you read a paragraph and it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest because it makes you feel so much? the ones where you're reading along breathless, unable to stop even though it's so so late, because you cannot believe how good it is, how complete and rich and well-crafted? the fics that can truly transport you directly into their world and their setting, because the author poured love and time into making everything true-to-life and fleshed-out and real?
you probably have at least one fic in mind when you're reading that--i had a few in my mind when i was writing it. it's that. i want to write that! it would have characters that you feel like you know because they're real people, and a setting that's vivid and visible in the mind's eye, and emotions that make you ache because they're so, so human. that's what i'd like to write one day. i'm not sure i have the talent or the motivation to ever get there! but man, aren't those fics the best to find?
as it so happens, the author in hockey rpf that consistently writes fics that do this to me is the incomparable @sevenfists, so i'm going to take this time to highlight a few that really just kick me in the gut: all the way through and motherland are probably the two at the top. the perfect occupation is just so heartbreakingly sweet and wonderful and does so much in its relatively shorter word count, and if you read just one sid/geno/anna fic and want to feel like you've been repeatedly kicked in the chest with how happysadachyhopeful it makes you, a marriage is the one for you.
thank you :D <3
fic asks here :)
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Greetings Ladies, Gentlefolk, and Domesticated Cryptids!
Hello all! Welcome to the corner of the internet dedicated to my various and varied ramblings, fandom lizard brain, and updates on the sheer chaos that is my AO3. (Yes this is Inky's personal Tumblr. The one who wrote both the 55k+ Miraculous angst fic and the one where Infinity War was avoided thanks to a tweet. I contain multitudes.)
I've seen other blogs do one of these posts just to lay out stuff, so figured I would as well :)
Basic Information
~ I do swear. A bit. A lot. It's a good stress release idk. (By swear, i mean fuck, shit, asshole, nothing worse than that--*creative* insults will also be included)
~ I'm still figuring out how the whole interface works so it might be a bit before i can do tag organizing and shit like that.
~ DNI's: Bigots, TERFs, Tories, homophobes, transphobes, Intolerant Jerkwads of just about any sort (NOT referring to those who are intolerant of people who cry persecution), racists, ableists, misogynists, Mental-health deniers, anti-science idiots, anyone who is a jerk of any sort--i reserve the right to refuse access to my blog to anyone at all at any time. I will block u. Don't fucking test me.
~That being said if you are a decent human being then welcome! :D
~ If i make a mistake, please please correct me. I'm not gonna be mad.
~Jysk i don't respond to DMs at this time. Comments and reblogs, I probably will.
~Plagarisim will not be tolerated. Reblogs are very welcome though!
~ Preemptive apologies for my copious use of meme speak. Those of you coming from my AO3 will already be aware of this.
~ Long posts will have the "keep reading" button activated
~ Please just try and be a decent human. This whole section probably seems really damn strict but i know how the internet works and figured I'd better cover all my bases. This is supposed to be a fun thing. I wanna keep it that way. "A truly tolerant society must be intolerant of intolerance"
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Current Obsessions
Fandoms
The Legend Of Zelda (hot damn I love those games) and Linked Universe by extension!
Marvel Cinematic Universe--All of it!!
Miraculous Ladybug (Not an Astruc fan but the love square gives me life I must admit)
The Umbrella Academy
Amphibia (I love the frog show so much. Marcanne gives me life)
The Owl House (LUMITY.)
Voltron (Hate the queer-baiting and season 8, love the premise and my darling Pidge so damn much)
9-1-1/9-1-1 LS (buddie 4ever)
Gravity Falls
Ninjago (Fell out of it when i was eight, ran back into it with a vengance in early 2020 before losing interest for a moment, now have fallen DEEP into it once more)
She-Ra (2018)
Many, many books
a lot more, but these are my mains
Aesthetics
Cottagecore
30s/40s/50s/60s/70s/80s (vintage vibes, NOT vintage values)
light academia
pretty things in general. Idk i have very varied tastes.
Music (I have so many but these are my favourites)
Taylor Swift
Hayley Kiyoko
Dua Lipa
Billie Eilish
Carly Rae Jepsen
Clairo
King Princess
way way more
Misc
Witchcraft
Old mythology from all around the world
anything astronomy
weird linguistic things
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Final Note
So yeah that's me. Do not expect any personal information. Aside from the swearing, this blog is not 18+
Thank you very much for choosing to take a peek! Feel free to follow if you want my chaos on your dashboard.
And to my folks who got here from AO3, I'll be posting updates on progress and fics in general here :)
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The 5 headcanons thing for a merfolk AU
Hmmmmmmmmmm......... do I go the traditional “Jaskier is a siren” route, or... AH! No, here we go. (This got even more away from me than the soulmate one, whoops...)
1) Jaskier is a mermaid. Well, merman, technically speaking. I refuse to go with the whole “green hair and nipples” thing bc what, he has wide pale blue eyes the color of the noontime sky, just this side of inhuman, vibrant reddish scales and fins, and a long chestnut braid that floats behind him, woven with shells and shipwreck trinkets and pretty stones. He has the most glorious fucking voice, and he’s pretty damn well celebrated down in the depths, amongst the other merpeople and the sea witches and nereids. But he’s dangerously curious, and goes to the surface all the time to watch boats and harbors and animals and trees. He tries to steer clear of the sirens ‘cause frankly they’re not exactly friendly and they’re a lot more likely to have drawn unneeded attention. He doesn’t want to get attention, he just wants to watch people. And he’ll hang out under docks, out of sight, and listen, and he learns how to understand Common (slowly, slowly, but he has so much time to learn) and he learns the melodies to their songs.
2) And then one day, he’s gone up a large, isolated lagoon that was fed by a river at the far end, changing from the salty seawater that came through the inlet to sweet freshwater that he enjoys the taste and feel of. It’s novel and interesting, and people never come there. He comes in the evening, because the stars will come out and he loves to look at them, and he hears a person. he hides, of course, ducking quietly under the water because he doesn’t want to be seen, but he creeps closer, waiting for the sun to set before poking his head around a stone, just barely lifting his eyes out of the water, and there near the shore is a horse and a campfire, and undressed and wading into the fresh water near the river mouth to bathe is the most beautiful human he’s seen in all the years he’d spent coming to the surface.
2a) it’s Geralt, obviously.
2b) Jaskier watches him bathe, then go back to his camp, redress, have supper, speak softly to his horse. Jaskier wants to get closer and hear what the man’s voice sounds like, but he dares not. Dares not. So instead he just sits and watches him. At some point he retreats beneath the water to the floor of the lagoon to sleep, falling asleep to poetic melodies and turns of phrase that might one day be a longing song about beauty that can’t be touched or possessed, only seen from afar. The sunrise wakes him and he comes back to the surface, just in time to see the man saddling his horse and starting to lead her off. He feels a pang of regret that he wouldn’t see this interesting human anymore until he notices the man is actually leading the horse down the shore of the lagoon toward the sea. And then he starts moving along the coast, cautious and watchful, so Jaskier stays out from the shore, careful careful careful.
2c) The thing is that he got too close without noticing, and Geralt’s medallion buzzed just the tiniest bit, and Jaskier splashed just the tiniest bit, and Geralt had subtly glanced out into the lagoon and seen a chestnut head and wide blue eyes in the light of the setting sun, far too close to avoid notice by a witcher, but clearly not aware of that. He kept an eye and ear out for the merfolk to get any closer, but he knows the difference between a merfolk and a siren, and the difference between cautious curiosity and the intent to harm. He pretends to sleep until he hears it swim off and his medallion stops the faint vibration, then settles in to meditate.
3) Geralt’s hunting a small siren’s nest. It’s in a sort of cave carved into a cliff by the waves, down the shoreline a few miles. Jaskier starts worrying as they get closer because the sirens will rip this beautiful human apart, but Geralt leaves Roach and straps on his swords and strides into the nest. He tries to talk them down of course, though Jaskier can’t hear it, but they shriek and attack and he kills them, but not before one uses all her strength to fling him across the cavern into a rock pillar out in the water. She’s bleeding out and will be dead in a minute or so. Geralt would be okay, if salty and waterlogged, except he hit head-first and is unconscious. Jaskier sees it happen. Jaskier is NOT about to let this happen. He darts through the water, desperate, and drags Geralt to the surface, then to the shore. The tide’s still coming in and Jaskier doesn’t want him to be in danger from that, so he has to wriggle and writhe up on the sand to get Geralt above - or mostly above, at least - the high tide line. Then he goes back for Geralt’s sword.
3a) Geralt heals very quickly. Even from something like that, before Jaskier can get back from a) wriggling back down to the water and b) finding and retrieving Geralt’s silver sword, Geralt’s awake and trying to process everything. Jaskier manages to spot him from a distance, and he waits until Geralt’s gone stalking back to where the sirens are, looking for proof of success and also for his silver sword. By the time he’s stalking grumpily and wearily back towards Roach, the silver sword is shining just where the waterline is, stuck upright in the wet sand. And obviously Geralt can see the traces of the squirming body and handprints faintly left in damp sand that hadn’t quite been washed away yet, wonders if it might be the curious merfolk from the night before
3b) from way out in the waves, far out enough that he’s sure Geralt won’t be able to pick him out, Jaskier watches happily as Geralt retrieves his sword, examining it carefully and scanning the waves, not letting on that he sees the little smear of chestnut hair and pale skin peeking just above the water, before trudging back to his horse.
4) He goes to the sea witches after that, begs them to make him human, at least for a while. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to find the beautiful man, doesn’t know how far the land goes beyond the coast, how far or how fast the man will travel, or in what direction, but he wants to try. They turn him away and away and away, tells him to write his beautiful songs and forget the man (witcher, one of them says, she knows he must be if he survived fighting multiple sirens and had two swords). until one of them finally says she’ll do it.
4a) It won’t hurt, but she knows that following a witcher is asking for trouble, so she tells him that he won’t be able to speak or sing, lest his beautiful voice give him away and the witcher kill him. Not all are discerning of the difference between “creature that has no ill intentions and is not harming anyone” and “creature that needs to be killed to save lives”, after all. If he finds this witcher and sees all the witcher truly is and still truly loves and trusts him, Jaskier will be able to sing again. His voice will almost certainly give away his true identity, and if the witcher sees it and loves and trusts him in return, he’ll be able to speak again. If the witcher doesn’t return his trust, he’ll lose his song again and have three sunrises to make it back to water that leads to the sea before the spell becomes permanent and he will not be able to speak or sing again for the rest of his life, trapped on land.
4b) obviously this is really overly complicated, and unnecessary because they could just turn him fully human with no caveats if they wanted to, and turn him back when he got back to the sea-*, but it was partially to dissuade him and partially to make it impossible for him to truly get in trouble on land by outing himself, because no way in hell would he ever be able to truly see what a witcher is and completely love and trust them, right? Eventually he’ll crack and come back to the sea and they’ll give him back his voice and his fins, and everything will be fine. Right?
5) Jaskier gets his legs. Pants are weird but he wears them. he has shoes but honestly he hated them so he left them behind on the beach. The witch cuts his braid because it is so long and will get in the way and weigh him down so much more without the water to support it. And he is put ashore close to the nearest port city to the siren nest, and he realizes belatedly when he gets there that he doesn’t know how to write the way humans do, how to spell any of the words he’d need to use to ask about a witcher. But just his luck, Geralt’s actually on his way out of town on the very road Jaskier sat thoughtfully down on to think about his options, and Jaskier very excitedly runs up to Geralt and-- well he can’t talk, but he’s curious and starts essentially just examining Geralt up close.
5a) The magic is screened well enough that Geralt’s medallion only vibrates the tiniest bit, and only when Jaskier’s very much up in his personal space. And listen, he can be dense sometimes, but while the young man’s eyes are a more natural blue than perhaps they were as a merman, the shade of chestnut is familiar, and the kid’s barefoot and basically seems to have no belongings and he apparently can’t speak? That’s odd, and not normal for merfolk as far as Geralt’s aware. Geralt doesn’t trust him quite yet, obviously, and certainly doesn’t love him, but neither does Jaskier yet. (give it a couple of years and his songs will come tumbling out, and his speech will take longer, but the trust is there, and love has time to grow.) But Geralt can clearly tell this is the same merman who, he assumes, saved his life and his sword a couple days earlier at the siren nest. It’s not like Geralt doesn’t appreciate being saved. And it’s not like Geralt’s going to go chatting about someone being merfolk in disguise, that’s just asking for trouble. So he doesn’t say anything about that.
5b) After circling Geralt and Roach a couple times curiously, Jaskier mimes between the two of them, and then walking, and then pointing down the road. Can he travel with you, whoever you are? And Geralt sighs, and all but lifts the strange little merman up onto Roach’s saddle, turning around to go back into town. “You need shoes,” is all his explanation. And he’ll need more food to supplement his hunting or fishing.
Bonus: 6) Geralt doesn’t know what to call this strange thing, so for a few weeks he mostly just calls him “you” gruffly, or nothing at all. But then they’re passing a wide field of wildflowers, sorts that don’t grow near the ocean usually, and Jaskier’s so wide-eyed and delighted, and rushes into it without a thought of safety (not that it’s dangerous, just, it’s clearly new, and he didn’t even look to Geralt for verification he could, and Geralt wants to be angry but he sees him flopped among merigolds and cornflowers (that match his eyes almost perfectly) and sending up a cloud of dandelion seeds, and he can’t stop himself from smiling just a tiny bit, while Jaskier’s too far away to see.
6a) and when Geralt finally gets Jaskier out of the field, there are still dandelion seeds all caught in his hair and Geralt shakes his head and reaches out to gently ruffle the Jaskier’s hair and send most of them floating down. “Come on, Dandelion, we’re still a few hours out from town,” he says, sounding grumbly despite himself, but Jaskier brightens, because he knows a name when he hears one.
#the witcher#geralt#jaskier#geraskier#merfolk AU#it's sort of the little mermaid but not quite#if i wrote it i feel like i'd have a section of angst where for some reason#geralt has a reason to stop trusting Jaskier#been misled about something or other maybe#misunderstand something else#and Jaskier will broken-heartedly flee to the nearest river and his tail returns#and he swims to the see and regains his voice#but he doesn't sing#and he's so sad#and Geralt realizes FINALLY that he loved his odd musical partially-mute Dandelion#and that he'd never done anything to betray his trust#and had trusted him with a lot actually#and he'll go back to the coast where they first saw each other#and just wait and wait and wait#until Jaskier finally comes back up to the lagoon to be maudlin and look at the stars#and there's Geralt#looking miserable and exhausted#and when he sees Jaskier it looks like the sun is rising in his eyes#and Jaskier realizes that whatever had happened was a mistake#that geralt came for him#and that while he needs an apology all is already forgiven#and then they kiss and Jaskier gets the ultimate secret promise of the spell which never truly broke just stopped applying#which is the ability to shift himself human all on his own#complete with his voice#...anyway
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tramway coaches i guess
i meant to reply to @sudrian-railways-enthusiast about these tags in the comments but somehow my response spiralled into a full-blown post on HCs for minor coach characters
"the old ones with nothing to lose... and Henrietta"
So, I hesitated on how to word that section! Because my first thought had been that the coaches that were more reckless and "awkward" were very likely to be elderly coaches relegated to workmen's services, as that seems to basically be the last leg of the life journey for them... assuming they get that far. In other words, IRL some of those coaches are janky but since they're usually quite old that's not much surprise. In sentient vehicle world, I like to think they're cranky, they've come down a long way in the world (unwashed laborers! eurgh!!), they probably have some Emotions, and what they don't have left are any fucks to give.
But I also knew Henrietta had definitely done some Unauthorized Creeping About, so I had been planning to make a special mention of her all along. But when it came down to writing that sentence, it was awkward. She's a special case! Because she does seem to literally fit the profile I wrote above... but she's not that type. For one thing, she has far from "nothing" to lose! She may primarily transport workers to and from the quarry but for her it's not a last lonely stopgap before the scrapyard; she has a home, friends; she's loved; she does all sorts of special jobs; she and Toby are multi-generational local celebs and they are in no disgrace or danger.
Hannah... hahaha(nnah)... I admit, I wrote that post not wanting to touch her. She gives me a fair bit of trouble in headcanons because you would think that if Henrietta still had a sister after all this time there would be a lot of explanation and backstory and probably angst to unpack? Like what?? Where did she come from??? I agree, just looking at TVS the best explanation is that Hannah was scrounged up and refurbished largely as a backup for Henrietta (and omg, the ISSUES with that dynamic???? this hasty hot-blooded creature as the frustrated understudy? but they both survived the scrapper's torch, so that makes it... okay? but also, not? hmmm...)
If we try to combine TVS and RWS, though (as I do!), I feel we need to do something else with Hannah. Because there is no way to reconcile Victoria's existence if Sodor owns Hannah? Like I'm not one to think that everything on this disaster-gay-energy of a railway has to be matchy-matchy but it's almost cruel for them to have been like, "Ahhhh, yes. Henrietta needs some help. Where shall we get it? ... *crickets* ... Well, we'll kick that can down the road and see what comes up." Completely ignoring Henrietta's underused and clearly bored SISTER just chilling on a seldom-used siding.
Even as I type this, I realize we could just say that Hannah's disposition is Too Much to handle that gig full-time—Toby seems stressed out whenever he has to go near her for even a day or two. But for my money, I like to ID Hannah as the Upwell and Wisbech coach No. 8, the one who appeared in Titfield Thunderbolt! It definitely seems consistent with her "hasty" and adrenaline-seeking character! Also, remember that canonically Toby and Henrietta (and Elsie! I am categorically against Elsie Erasure 😤) are from an Upwell-and-Wisbech-esque line but explicitly NOT from that one. In other words, it facilitates the two sisters having always worked separately back on the mainland, which seems to fit the rather distant relationship they have in the show.
This also facilitates, in this timeline, Hannah being preserved but not owned by the North Western. That helps me a lot so far as her coexistence with Victoria. In this headcanon I'd say that the North Western put off the issue of Toby's overloaded train for as long as possible because they were trying to buy Hannah. Finally they could put it off no longer and, anyway, it was clear that Hannah's railway (I haven't decided which heritage line she works, but it's one of them) wasn't going to part with her. This makes more sense to me than the explanation in the book that? the North Western? couldn't afford a single new coach no matter how pressing the need?? but they could afford to restore a converted garden house into running condition (not really any cheaper I reckon)??? And then at the end FC3 is showing off the train like it's an attraction??? I dunno, I don't buy any of it, the NWR is doing plenty well enough to get any coach they want. That they put it off because they wanted Hannah works for me. And Victoria wasn't some convenient random find; she was probably on FC3's radar for a while and was the Next Best Option for some local vintage flavor.
That said, you can still rescue the Hannah episodes, too, by saying sometimes she is loaned to the NWR. And since she only works about 25 days a year and never breaks 10 mph otherwise, you'd better believe she makes the most of her spells on Sodor! Yee-haw! C'mon, Jim-boy, is this really as fast as you can go?????????
Bonus: If Hannah had been preserved after Titfield Thunderbolt as planned... perhaps she's appeared in some movies since?... she's a career actress. Throw in a little diva-with-a-heart-of-gold energy and just, honestly, I'm loving this.
As for Victoria... okay, so it seems to me that, immediately prior to being withdrawn from service on the Ffarquhar, she DOES fit my profile for "unhappy, ornery coach, disgusted at how far she's fallen in the world, who might act out." Think about it—she had been sent away from Albert and Helena (that had already been her first "demotion," mind you—but she seems to have been very happy with her little found family in that era), sent over to the No-Where Railway, is in exile now on the most godforsaken western line on this barbarous island? She doesn't know how Albert and Helena are, the early N.W.R. is a mess, there's no tourism, she's reduced to having 'Coffee Pots' play pass-the-parcel with her as smelly miners and masons and construction workers grind dirt and ash into her upholstery and make a ruin of her floors, and with each new bit of grime it seems any hope she has of ever being wanted back home grows dimmer—
So, maybe she acted out? I mean yes, she seems very sweet, and I'm sure by nature she is, but these are also the exact sort of circumstances I'd predict "truck-like behavior."
She had to have been withdrawn before 1925, or else Thomas should have recognized her, so that was relatively early, and maybe she was one of the first picks to be replaced once the railway started getting their grubby paws on a few better coaches—because she had gotten into the habit of being a bit of a pill.
I know, I know that when Chris Awdry had Edward say "Don't I know you from somewhere?" that he meant to imply the answer was "yes, from their mutual Furness days." But the F.R. timeline actually works out such that these two probably never worked the same line. So I, guilt-free, prefer to interpret it as Edward vaguely recognizes her, and it takes him another minute or two for him to realize that it's from their early Sodor days.
So then he keeps his mouth shut and never brings it up again. Because it would be a very Edward thing, to a) remember that she had gotten a bad reputation on the island, and to b) realize that he's probably the only other living thing that would know this, and c) to reckon that after 75 years off the rails, she has more than paid the price for any difficulty she once gave, and that she deserves the chance to make a fresh start.
Which, obviously, Victoria grabbed onto it with all six wheels and never let go. She is clearly a homebody by nature so, now that she knows that this is the only home she has, it makes sense to me that any brief "I'm going to make my problems everyone's problem" phase is long over.
Still... imagine how pleased Henrietta and Elsie were, after containing their Creeping About tendencies for a while, feeling that this pleasant newcomer would crimp their style, to discover... haha no worries. She is perfectly prepared to keep their secrets. She may even chip in a trick or two of her own...
#on twitter victoria is pretty widely loathed i really don't get why she's fine#i prefer her in this role to hannah#she is given a distinct personality but she's in no danger of overshadowing or capsizing the mild steady dynamic of the Toby Train... she j#mind you there is literally no bigger 'third wheel' in the world than tagging along behind toby and henrietta haha#but then elsie's been doing this for decades and decades and surely likes having a new friend to do it with her...#mind you hannah is a FUN character but she is A Bit Much for the ffarquhar#i really do like the idea of her blowing on through every year or two on a whirlwind visit#like a crazy rich cousin who doesn't live with you and that's probably for the best but they always brighten up the room#the parents don't approve but the kids are like 'HEY AUNTIE WHAT NEW FORBIDDEN THING YA GONNA TEACH US ABOUT THIS TIME'#anyway going back to arguing with invisible composite twitterati#the problem is not that victoria got too much air time the only problem is that the other RWS coaches didn't!#the solution is not to tear down but to build up#... and as everyone comments TVS helped there so what's the problem?#(i'm not as enthusiastic about CGI annie clarabel and henrietta as everyone else seems to be)#(they seem as flat as ever to me)#(but hey at least they have lines and agency ig)#ttte coaches#ttte vehicle autonomy#<- i should go back and use this tag in a few places...#ttte analysis#ttte headcanon#ttte#the railway series
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as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader
synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.
You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.
But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.
This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!
masterlist | AO3
notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go!
(warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K)
nine: records
Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.
It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.
You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.
When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"
“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”
A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.
His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”
Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”
“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.
“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.
“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”
One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”
You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”
“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”
Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.
You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”
Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.
“Marvin Gaye.”
You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”
“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”
“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.
“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”
You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.
Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.
You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.
“I know Sinatra.”
“Do you now?”
You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.
“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”
“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”
“Show off.”
“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”
“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”
Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.
“M’not going anywhere, you know.”
“You still lived an entire lifetime—”
“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.
You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.
“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.
“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.
The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;
You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.
I'd tried so, not to give in
I said to myself this affair never will go so well
You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.
Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.
As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.
“Is this Berlin?”
You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”
“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.
“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.
The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”
Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”
“Yes we can.”
“No, no we can’t.”
“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.
“And the hangover?”
“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”
He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.
Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.
Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.
You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.
“You—you wrote to us?”
“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”
After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.
“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”
From me.
As if that was possible.
“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”
Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”
“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”
“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”
Alright. That was fair.
Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.
“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”
His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”
Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.
You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.
The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.
The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.
You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.
I would sacrifice anything, come what might
For the sake of having you near
He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.
“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.
I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.
“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.
There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.
Right?
Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.
Right.
Don't you know little fool, you never can win
The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.
No lyrics.
There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.
Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.
At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.
The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.
He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.
“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.
The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.
“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”
Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.
He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.
His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.
He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.
“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”
“Do you care?”
“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.
Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.
“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”
The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.
You liked flying.
“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”
Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.
It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.
After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.
So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.
Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.
“Let me see! Bucky!”
“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”
“You gotta be more patient. Here.”
He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.
The other had Bucky’s.
James B Barnes. 32557038.
He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.
You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.
“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”
You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.
“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.
You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”
“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.
You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.
“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”
Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”
Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.
In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.
And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.
You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.
“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”
“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.
“Tell me about it. I can go—”
“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”
As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.
They jingled lightly against your heart.
Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.
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1, 18, and 25 for the fanfic asks!
You know, when I reblogged the list, I didn't realize how hard the questions would be to answer! 😂😂 But thank you for the asks, because I do love a good challenge! XD
1. favorite fic you wrote this year
This is so tricky because it's so dependent on a number of things! However, as someone who partially writes fan fiction with the goal of becoming a better writer, I think I'd likely go with "Well Earned" (link to part 3 cause it links to the other parts). While I'm not a huge angst writer, I do like to write it on occasion for the experience, and I feel like I keep getting better at it with practice, and I'm fairly happy with how I transitioned this from a fun, masked makeout idea into an angst piece. And then I'm probably a bit biased cause it's Nessian, since my Rowaelin 4-part fic "How Could They Not" might actually be better-done angst. lol (Again, link to last part.)
My favorite more continuous AU I created is definitely the Velaris State Chronicles. I have a number of AUs I do really love, but this one holds a special place in my heart, maybe because I see it as something a bit different than the others.
My other top 5 would likely be:
Something Deeper (Part 1 | Part 2) - Nessian
Rules of Babysitting - Rowaelin (Part 2 will come...some day...)
I'm Here (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4) - Lysaedion
The Girl in the Hat - Nessian
Model Students - Rowaelin Continuous AU
18. current number of wips
approx 20...pending definition. I think it's 21 based on the way I'm counting them, but some could arguably be seen as ideas more than WIPs, but they're more solid or decided I WILL do/finish at some point, so they were moved to my WIP section from my ideas section already. lol
25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read
I mean, definitely Love in an Elevator, which I mentioned with the last ask. Other than that, well...if you don't mind a rough ending, then DEFINITELY Paint it Red by @moodymelanist. That one really pulls you around in such a great way, and while the ending leaves you wanting, the ending itself (from a more objective standpoint) is great, well done, extremely emotional, but also understandable.
I also would highly recommend Prick by @thewayshedreamed (link to the first part). You really get a sense of the tension, the longing, everything Nesta feels but does or doesn't fully say in her internal monologue. And the smut is top notch.
For my Rowaelin peeps, I'm sure no one will be surprised I'm recommending a fic by @morganofthewildfire lol, but I'd def. suggest her piece All Too Well. Based on the song by Taylor Swift - pre Red TV and the 10-minute version - it's really lovely and sweet, but also captures the song so beautifully while still making the story her own.
I'd also definitely recommend Snakes & Daggers by @heirofflowers. It's a ToG divergence fic, where you explore what it might have been like for Aelin and Rowan had all the stuff with the Valg and the war and everything not happened - aka Aelin's family lived, she was princess her whole life, etc., and then Rowan comes with a delegation from Doranelle after Maeve dies (or something) and his cousin Sellene is crowned Queen of Doranelle. In an attempt to heal ties with Terrasen. Extremely well done and thought out and it had me DYING for more.
I could go on, but I'll stop here. Cause, seriously, there are sooooo many I could recommend and would. I've also stuck with completed fics, cause that's a great way to keep me from going on too long as well. 👀
Fan Fic End of Year Asks
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Fic Writer Review!
stole this from @bouncyirwin and encouraged by @iamnotakitty and @eruditeempress because I am weak haha
1. How many do you have on Ao3? 26
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 939,497 words
3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? 6 fandoms (Naruto, Harry Potter, LoTR, Hobbit, My Hero Academia, Akagami no Shirayukihime)
4. What are your top 5 five by kudos?
* Yeah, Kunai are cool but have you had dessert? - 4,209
* He’s the Evil Twin, okay? - 2,731
* In The Eye of The Beholder - 2,206
* No Tomorrow - 2,031
* Until Dawn Breaks - 707
5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Generally yes but sometimes, especially if I’ve gone really off the fic in question (as in, cannot bear to think about it) or writing in general, I just moderate the comment straight through without responding. But, when I’m back into writing again, I’ll go back and reread comments or reply very late haha
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? My fics are usually about canon divergence that SPARES death/angst but I do post what-ifs in one-shots. The saddest is a chapter in my ficlet collection ‘Tomorrowland’ where I write Inoichi’s POV of Shisui’s b*dy washing up from the Naka River.
7. Do you write crossovers? yes, I generally like to throw a character into a diffferent universe or adopting the settign from one as an AU than merging the two worlds together. I have a HP world Shisui one-shot and then an on-going Shisui is in LoTR story, The Red Ally.
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? oh god yeah, it was so horrible at one point that I’ve had to get on my soap-box in my A/Ns before
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? Hmm, I do but usually as a comisseration gift to my Beta for putting up with my insane workload. Any pairing combo!
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yep! had it several times where people say they want to link their fic as inspired by mine and, when I go to check them out, they’d copy+pasted sections. it was sorted in the end but not fun :/
11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Uhhh I had people ask, back on FFNet, and a russian version of one was done but I’m not really sure if its still out there or not??
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope! I'd love to tho
13. What is your all time favorite ship? Hmm, I dont really write ship-fics for some reason BUT i love reading Kakasaku, shikasaku, TobiKagami... oh wait i’m also weak for literally most rarepairs. I drove myself mad trying to find Saku/Hashi the other day haha
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Uh I’m not sure I should say with all the readers following me 👁️👄👁️
15. What are your writing strengths? I would say descriptions but I’ve been told I’m strong with fighting scenes. Apparently I set the pace right
16. What are your writing weaknesses? I’m very very stop-starty. No Tomorrow was the first ever fic I wrote (and, really, have written ever) where I was largely able to post on the regular. I speed-write 10K in a day or I edit 500 words for six months. there is very little in-between. I also have a terrible habit of ranting about WIPs and then never doing them, which is something I’m actively trying to work on since I feel bad for the people who WANT to read the ideas I rant to them about
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I would if I could but I cant so i shant!
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? uhhhhhhhhhhhhh I think it was a very very cheesy first-person confession ficlet for Akagami no Shirayukihime... I remember reading it out to my Mum and, in hindsight, her expression was very pained lmao
19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written? i’m most inamoured with whatever i’m currently writing, i gained the most satisfaction from my recent Godaime!Tsunade fic ‘SUKEBAN’ but i am most proud of ‘No Tomorrow’ because I actually finished it to a degree i’m satisfied with
hmmm @looks-like-starlight and @skewedrevisions off the top of my very empty head ❤️❤️❤️
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EVERYTHING for This Suspect Edifice, the epic life of Goh Ye-jun ❤️❤️❤️
Hahaha, bestest, you were literally there for all of it 😘
☼: how i came up with the idea
I don't even know if it was *an * idea- I was just vibing, not really thinking when I started writing it! I just loved his character so much- I'm a softie for the second lead who doesn't get the girl, or the underdog who doesn't quite get what they want- and I think my idea wasn't anything more than: I must give Goh Ye-jun everything.
☄: what the writing process was like
Absolute bliss. I have never experienced anything like it before and I suspect I never will again. I think it was just the summery-sweet-utterly plotless-vibe of the show that infected me through the writing- though I think the fic has more direct angst than the show itself did. But it just- flowed from my fingertips onto the screen and you were so enthusiastic (YOU ARE MY FAVE and THE BEST) and that made it even more easy and delightful to write, because I'd get your live commentary on everything- just instant validation and encouragement was such a good feeling :)
✄: something i deleted before the final draft
I think this is one fic where I didn't do anything much more than a little tweaking- no large sections were re-written or deleted. For a completely unplanned fic (I didn't even have a chapter outline, I think!) it just wrote itself and fairly neatly, I think!
♡: my favorite part
Hmm, difficult to choose, but I liked the bit where Ye-jun has to make peace between his mom and Ye-chan, over Ye-chan's career choices after the two of them have a big fight, and doesn't quite manage it. Something about growing up as the elder sibling in a single parent household while also hiding this huge secret about yourself and loving your family but never quite being understood by them, or understanding them either- and knowing there's no easy or permanent resolution to any of it-
He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up thirsty, his phone's dead and the old digital clock on the desk shows 03:05 in large neon blue.
He's halfway down the stairs, wondering if eomma made it home, when he notices the light on in the living room. Eomma and Ye-chan are curled up on the couch, Ye-chan's head tucked into eomma's shoulder. If they're talking, it's too soft for Ye-jun to hear.
Huh, he thinks, half-relieved, and half—something else. Something that feels like hurt or that feeling that never seems to disappear entirely, like he’s a child with his nose pressed up against the glass window of a shop selling candy he can't afford, always on the outside.
He turns and pads back up the stairs, brushing away the feeling. It’s a useless thing to dwell on.
In the morning, he'll borrow some flour and eggs from eomma's kitchen so that Hyun-soo can eat well.
☠: something i found challenging
Ha! Describing the boxing match at the Asiad- I fudged it, eventually, but for a while there I went down a rabbit hole on women's boxing stats and videos and coming up with zilch.
☾: how i thought people would respond to the fic
This fic was totally pressure free- because I knew there was like zero audience for this (other than you!). I did not expect even ten hits for it.
☽: how people *actually* responded
Ok, so more than ten people seem to have read it, which, whoooo! But it's still one of my least read fics. *shrug hands emoji *
∞: something i wish i’d done differently
This is a sort of ridiculous thing to say, considering you don't even see the main pairing kiss on page (why yes, I *am * that writer who wrote 44k and didn't even get the lead romance pair to kiss onscreen!)- anyways, despite that, I was very much toying with the idea of having Ye-jun and Yeong-hwa be in an explicitly asexual but romantic relationship- which they are, of course, for most part of the fic. But I think I sort of chickened out of it, in the end- and made it a little more conventional. I did- and do occasionally- still think of a sequel where I want to address this more directly- but it's too vague in my head at the moment to get anywhere real.
★: something i’m proud to have accomplished
I was really happy to drag a character that existed on the margins of the canon narrative to center stage, and more than that, I think this is genuinely one of the warmest, sweetest fics I've written, and I *hope* that reading it feels like being hugged through the screen and wrapped in a warm quilt....
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I'd love to hear more about the development of your Gaster! :D
BACKSTORY ASK MEME
1. How did you first come up with your muse’s backstory, if you did at all?
Continued from here
Also asked by @alagaster
So I left off with the question of just how Gaster's soul ended up in pieces.
I’m actually going to detour at the moment and say that it was around that point that I had decided to make the blog. I had a vague beginning and an ending, and usually that’s not enough for me to want to start, but I was excited, I had a lot of fun, so I went for it.
Honestly, one of the first things I need to have before I even think of making a blog is a good url. Urls are super important to me, and generally, whether or not I think of a good one is a key factor in whether or not I actually make the blog.
But in this case, I was too eager to start and I actually just threw together chorusnihil so I could get started on the pages. The thought process remained the same--the chorus is from Greek plays, the group of characters that narrate the actions occurring in the play. nihil is Latin for nothing--and I later changed it to nihili, which is Genitive, to roughly make the “chorus of nothing” or “nothing’s chorus,” a reference to the fact that the guy wiped himself out of history, and so there’s no protagonist to narrate. This was supposed to be a temporary URL, but I got attached to it, for reasons I’ll get to later.
(And really, isn’t a roleplay blog a modern chorus in it’s own way?)
Also there’s the phonetic pun-- CORE-us, anyone?
So I threw together a lot of the basic bios. Most of the stat pages are really bland, most of the guts of the story comes from the hidden details, most of which were added on later.
Something that came up around this point was Gaster’s relationship to Asgore. A lot of fanon pictures them as really close. A lot of fanon also portrays Gaster as Gaster as desperately wanting to retake the surface, which...as mentioned previously, my Gaster just, wasn’t into.
So it sort of put Gaster in between Asgore and Toriel--he wasn’t happy about the decision to go to war with humanity, but he wasn’t going to abandon everyone, even if he did become really reclusive.
I thought about the idea of the human souls, and I knew that Gaster would immediately hate the idea of working with them. And that was convenient, too, since it allowed me to further separate Gaster and Alphys’s work. At first, it was just a heavy disagreement. The idea that Gaster killed Asgore accidentally came a great deal later, but it honestly served to be a rather critical piece of the story.
The design of the DT Extractor and Sans and Papyrus were also very vague concepts at this point.
Revisiting the idea of his fall. We know from the canon dialogue that he fell into his own invention and that he was scatted across space and time.
The CORE is the common culprit and it was what I had chosen, too. But how? How could an energy source... do that?
So the idea occurred to me that maybe--maybe that was exactly as it was designed to do. After all, even in the real world, we have power plants that operate by ripping apart molecules. So... magic. Why not magic? A machine that derives power out of ripping apart magical energy.
And monsters are made out of magical energy.
Falling into that sounds like a very grisly fate, indeed.
The idea of how he got erased from reality isn’t one I really have solidified. G has a couple of theories, and I’m willing to roll with either of them, but, really? I’m not super interested in making a hard reason for it. Namely to adapt to other versions of fanon other muns might have.
Essentially, the theories say that the CORE destroying him released so much energy that it tore a hole in the Determination that pushes the timeline forward, thus allowing the Void to enter and merge with his soul.
From there, either,
A., his Determination very briefly was larger than that of the Timeline, and he himself invoked a Reset, but given that he was outside of the timeline at the moment, it was corrupted and only erased certain parts rather than fully resetting. I think that this was the original theory that I used in the original RP.
B., the Void acted as a corrective force trying to correct the hole in the timeline. In doing so, it erased Gaster from the reality, thus replacing the existing timeline with a new one in which certain things never happened.
C., something involving the power of Rewrite that Gaster has from the duality of Determination and Void.
D., something else entirely.
And so we had the scattered Unbound Gaster.
Which, funfact, the name Unbound Gaster for the form was supposed to be temporary, as well. It’s a reference to Unbound Hoopa for Pokemon. (Which is why Provoked Form Gaster isn’t called Unbound Form!)
Within the original RP that I developed most of this lore, Refused Gaster didn’t exist. In fact, that roleplay ended with Gaster’s permanent death--and being permanently forgotten to the world. A choice he intentionally made because the damage he did to the timeline by falling into the CORE was still present and only getting worse, and the only way to fix it was to allow his Soul to come together and pass on properly, thus allowing the damage to mend.
It was sad. I cried. I got emotional.
I got attached to a traumatic asshole character I literally had for four days.
Somewhere in here, I began to think about the origins of Gaster. Like, way way way in the past. Some people have Gaster being actively involved in the war, but it didn’t work for my portrayal, of having him be so afraid of humans and the surface. So for it to work out, I had him really young for the war, really young when everyone got driven underground.
I killed off his parents because ......
Frankly I didn’t want to design them :|
There’s a lot of varying opinions and interpretations about skeleton monsters, and it’s a section of the fandom I’ve decided to stray away from for now.
But I didn’t want the loss to be traumatic. Gaster’s been through a lot already, and I have personal vendettas against characters who solely consist of trauma after trauma.
So I decided to make the loss very distant--he’s aware he probably had parents, or maybe he came to be some other way--but he doesn’t remember them, there’s no tragic “my parents were killed in front of me,” it’s simply something he didn’t have, and something he never needed given the nature of monsters to be kind and caring.
...
But it felt like it was missing something.
So I started to toy around with this idea of a mentor, one who played the role of a father-figure, one who would plant the seeds to give Gaster the appreciation of science and knowledge. Someone who could take this lost and terrified boy and start to turn him into the intelligent and steady doctor we end up with.
Then came the problem of how he and this mentor would actually meet; Gaster’s scar proved to be a convenient excuse, plus it gave me a backstory for that, as well. A few humans attacked him and delivered the injury, and Gaster’s mentor found the wounded boy and took care of him.
The mentor is meant to be a vague entity, and you can view this in action in this memory. (Only partially because I didn’t want to name them.) Unfortunately, as per the nature of characters created post hoc, their fate was already sealed. I made the choice to cut their influence on Gaster’s life short.
(If they were around longer, who knows? Maybe they could have prevented some of the stupider things Gaster has done. Maybe they could have changed fate. But... as we’ll get to, everything happened exactly as it had to.)
Again, I made it a very distant loss. It’s a rather simple conclusion that not every monster would be happy vacating the surface--Gaster’s mentor had lived there their entire life. It was their home, they were not leaving, even upon threat of death. And so it was a bittersweet parting, but one with closure, and Gaster said his farewells and departed to the Underground.
Honestly, what I find really shocking about this character is just how intensely he wants to do good. I mean, I’m no stranger to good characters, but few of my characters push it as far as Gaster does, and how quickly that feeling came to me, considering he started in the original roleplay as a ruthless asshole bastard more than willing to fuck over and torture a bunch of children just for a chance at being whole again.
Most of Gaster’s early life in the Underground found in this post was written on the spot as I wrote that post, so it came really late.
I still find it hilarious that he used to work in therapy. You’re well aware you need therapy you fucking bastard. Quit denying it.
So, revisiting the idea of Gaster and Asgore. I do like the idea of them being close, and Gaster even calls Asgore his best friend. The declaration of war put a huge strain on the relationship.
I originally thought about the idea of him accidentally killing Asgore for shits n giggles. At my heart I am indeed an angst gremlin, so I was just thinking about what an alternate timeline where that happened might be like. After all, Gaster’s angry, Asgore’s full of guilt, with the way monster magic works, it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to think that it could happen.
But the more I thought about it, the more it fit eerily well. The guilt gave Gaster a reason to create Sans (and later Papyrus) as part of his belief in Karma (creating a life to replace the life he took) and to look into Alphys’s research into Determination enough to create the blueprints for the DT Extractor; both of these things were things that I couldn’t otherwise really fit into his storyline.
And finally...
His declining mental state and despair over the concept of the DT Extractor was what led to him being distracted enough to make such a critical mistake and fall into the CORE.
And given that the timeline changes when he falls, I realized that... I could have this happen, and the current timeline be unaffected.
Now, given that I said that I wanted to avoid more trauma in Gaster’s life, this decision might seem contradictory. But, it also served a very important point--Asgore returning to life, that mistake being fixed upon his fall gave Gaster something to hold onto. Something that made his fate not as awful as it otherwise would have been. A small piece of solace in hell.
Plus, Gaster’s guilt at the incident caused him to resign as Royal Scientist, further allowing him and Alphys to have their separate stories.
And pretty much everything snapped together at that point. Really, strangely well. I joked before on this blog if I’m really the one writing it.
If Gaster had not killed Asgore, he would have never created Sans and Papyrus, he would have never created the DT Extractor blueprints; if he did not create the blueprints, he would have never been distracted enough to fall into the CORE, if he never fell into the CORE, the blueprints would have never ended up with Alphys, she could have never created Flowey, and if Flowey was never created, he could have never used the souls to break the barrier and the True Pacifist ending would have never come to pass.
It all happened exactly as it had to.
It feels oddly poetic, given the way Undertale works.
In some ways, it’s cruel. Gaster regularly struggles with the idea that for his people to be happy, he had to literally be wiped out of existence. But in other ways, it’s a comfort--for at least he knows that his suffering wasn’t for nothing. That there was a purpose--that even if he had to be erased, he played a vital role in ensuring his people found victory.
Oh. One final note... In finalizing this story, you may notice that Gaster follows a classic pattern. We have a hero, who’s mostly good, but through his own flaws makes a tragic mistake and seals his own grim fate.
It’s called a tragedy and they’re common in Greek plays.
What was that about a chorus again?
I think that’s just about every important point I could cover. That being said, if you couldn’t tell, this is a very fascinating topic to me, so if you have any further questions or need any clarifications, feel free to send them in.
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Hi, I was reading your writers commentary. I love it so much! Do you have any commentary on "Shadows and Terror"? Its my personal favorite. I'd also love to see some commentary on your lovely sugarbuns fic.
Ah, thank you! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I'm still drowning in coursework and stuff, but I appreciate the ask!
This was my first oneshot I wrote for this fandom, Ted centric this time! I just wanted to see the characters acknowledge their trauma a bit more, so I wrote this for Ted and Pancho. Enjoy the commentary!
.............
*One jab after another at his skin with that sharp spear... water suddenly burst from every wall and flooded them and-*
Ted's nightmare was a mash up of his various scary experiences from Exiled, because of course I couldn't just pick one! He was scared while fighting the war, combined with the loneliness and terror of being cooped up in the submarine, thinking he was trapped alone with a monster. As well as the sub sinking, that couldn't have been fun for him.
This takes place some time after the victory party, but slightly before the first episode of season 5. Just enough time to put some distance between the adrenaline of the war and the partying, and allow the weight of the experience to truly catch up with Ted.
*his eyes wide in terror. He frantically looked this way and that, checking the shadows around the room*
The title of the fic is incooperated in this paragraph, but it actually took me a super long time to pick a title. I eventually re-read some sections and thought, yeah this sounds good. Shadows and Terror still sounds a little fancy for this work tbh.
*looked up to see Dorothy standing about him*
I decided not to being Ted and Dorothy's marital problems into this, so they're very sweet with each other and they both care a lot.
(Also instead of about it's meant to say above, argh, embarrassing typo!)
*She quickly released him, seeing how jumpy he was*
Dorothy doesn't quite know what's going on with Ted, but she's trying to be supportive the best way she can.
*it reminded him of those long nights in the submarine when Julien*
Ted's train of thought runs away with him here, he's still half caught up in the dream poor guy, and suddenly he's having a flashback to the sub.
*Pancho was whining about their whining*
I can see Pancho just getting very fed up with consistent negativity when he's trying to focus on driving the sub, even if he too is just concerned about the kingdom. I wrote this fic before I started shipping panchulien actually, the early days.
*Ted had just quietly sat down in the corner of the room,*
Poor Ted, I imagine he definitely wasn't complaining as much as the others, he had been alone on the sub for longer than them and just needed a hug.
*All he could hear now was his own breathing, short and panting, and Dorothy, oh heck, she was talking*
Ted zones back to reality, the fic is written from his POV so you can read along his thought process. As he comes back to reality, realising Dorothy is talking completely throws him off guard.
*I just... I guess I'm still jumpy from the whole mountain lemur, submarine fiasco."*
Ted sort of dances around the issue, he doesn't even want to directly mention the word 'war'. He only hints at the things that are scaring him to try and keep Dorothy's worry to a minimum, and because talking about it will make it even more real.
*rubbed the fur on his head, something which he often found soothing*
These lemurs need to groom each other more!!! I get the feeling Ted and Dorothy might like physical contact if one of them is upset (not if they're upset because of each other obviously), but grooming would be a comfort to many of the lemurs, especially physically affectionate Ted.
*tried to force himself to relax*
Poor leem, he just wants the scary stuff to be over so he can be alright and be sunny old Ted again, but unfortunately for him, things aren"t that simple.
*his tail stiffening like it did under imposed threat. He even heard a low growl being forced from his throat*
I'm not sure if I actually researched if lemurs do this, or if I made it up on the spot, but it seems like something they might do when threatened (any experts want to weigh in?).
*She could tell Ted was still tense from the way he was clutching his tail. "Look, maybe you should see Doctor S?"*
As much as Ted tries to hide it, Dorothy can tell something is wrong. Despite their problems, it's obvious that she cares very deeply for him and she just wants to see him be himself again.
*Yep!" Ted tried to sound as merry as he wanted to feel.*
Ted is definitley the sort to try and put on a facade of everything being okay, especially when Dorothy is involved. Secretly he knows it can't be like this forever, but he wants to pretend for as long as he can. Kind of like his marriage. That's also why he wants to be away from Dorothy. He knows she can see right through his little facade and he's not ready to face the truth yet.
*"At this time of night?"*
This takes place at around two in the morning, late enough for Ted, Dorothy and most of the kingdom's subjects to be asleep, but still early enough for Pancho Horst and Willie to still be partying.
*Ted couldn't help but clutch at his tail as he walked....bit his lip as he tuned into the sounds of the jungle all around him.*
Ted would totally hold his tail like a snuggie to comfort himself. And since he's already jumping at shadows, being alone in a place where the war was just fought would terrify him. Even though he's lived in the jungle all his life, the war has left him so wary of danger that everything feels very scary and unfamiliar.
*Snoring lemurs who weren't paralysed in fear by nightmares and memories.*
Ted feels a little left out and jealous as the rest of the kingdom is able to sleep and move on from the war. It makes him feel isolated, which is why finding solace with Pancho is important for him later in the fic.
*Sweet mango juice, what was he thinking*
I tried to copy Ted's exclamative speaking style here, but it doesn't quite match up to how it sounds in the show. Oop.
*sign that read 'MANGO TANGO'*
Fun fact, I tried to get the bar's title to be in italics, but a03 glitches on me and turned the entire text into italics, and because coding is a nightmare and I just decided to have it in caps instead.
*Ted recognised Horst, Willie and Pancho.*
These guys are drinking buddies. CANNON!
*"The stinking drink's in your hand, you buffoon!" Pancho said grumpily*
I'm not 100% happy with the way Pancho is written here, but it is pretty good for a first attempt. It kind of makes sense though, Pancho was having a good time with his pals and is a little annoyed that their night has to end. Also he's annoyed at himself for letting Horst get into this state.
*Pancho winked at him*
Small hint at panched in there, it was my first ship for this show and I still think it's neat.
*which he promptly collapsed onto seconds later.*
Poor Willie, he's just very done now, and needs sleep. Pancho just didn't want their partying to end, so he unwittingly wore his homies down on their night out.
*"You wanna come back to the Mango Tango with me?"*
Pancho is still very desperate to keep the night going, even if it isn't with his drinking buddies. He just needs company.
*Pancho released Ted almost immediately. "Sorry, I just, don't want to be alone." Pancho muttered, looking embarrassed.
Ted was a little surprised by his outburst, but deep down, he knew he might have done the same thing.*
Ah, poor babies. I thrive off the angst.
*exited Willie's hut and shut the door behind them.*
Courtesy.
*Together, they climbed*
Ted and Pancho sort of have a kindred spirit vibe going here. They're both going through similar experiences and avoiding them by being out at night. They need each other, even if they don't know it.
*tall tree that had many different people's huts in it*
Baobab tree? Is that what you were going for, past me?
*Pancho chuckled as he continued to stare out across the jungle. "I'm not sure if I ever went to lemur school." He said eventually.*
Now that they're up above the village and everything, Pancho's beginning to slow down and their conversations become more meaningful. He's put some distance between his late night drinking and now he just wants some solidarity in his pain and meaningful company, which, thankfully, Ted can give.
*he really didn't know much about Pancho's side of things.*
I have to wonder what the POV of people who weren't directly involved in Panchurian would be. I think Ted would probably be quite confused about what happened to Pancho, and why he suddenly has a house now and everything. But hes too polite to ask, so it's only now he finds out.
*Ted sighed and glanced up at Pancho*
Ted sort of looks up to Pancho after seeing how brave and badass he was in Exiled, and he's always veiwed Pancho as this macho, confident swagger guy, and hopes that he might be a source of consolation that could help Ted feel 'normal' again.
*"but even when that something's over and you know it's never going to hurt you again you just can't help being terrified"*
All this would definitley resonate with Pancho and the first thing he does is to encourage Ted to do what's best for him because he cares. He doesn't want Ted to end up like him because of trauma.
*"Don't apologise." He said. Ted glanced back at him. "It's, uh, it's alright to get scared by that stuff"*
Pancho shows Ted that it's okay to be scared, because if Ted continues to bottle up his feelings then he won't be Ted anymore.
*"You know I got brainwashed, right?"*
Poor Panchy just wants to open up to someone. He's been shoving his feelings down, but now it's all coming to the surface because of how he relates to Ted right now. He needs some more chances to talk about the things that haunt him.
*"Soft!" Ted exclaimed, hands on his hips.*
Ted was a little hung up on being a 'tough guy' after Exiled, so that shows through here.
*"And I'm assistant captain of the ringtail guard!"*
This little rant feels very in character for Ted. I enjoyed writing it.
*"but I just can't bring myself to pay them a wedding visit!"*
A wedding visit was a custom in the olden days of England, and I can absolutely see Ted doing it and bringing the newly weds gifts.
*leaned back against the branch they were sitting on.*
At the beginning of this scene, Pancho was clutching the tree trunk, now he's relaxed. He's feeling more comfortable with Ted.
*"Why don't you talk to your wife, she'll help."*
Helps to establish a functioning support system. Pancho knows Ted has people he can turn to, so encourages him to do so.
I am completely all for this friendship. Ted would help Pancho with his issues without hesitation, and obviously I wrote this with the idea that nobody would be completely okay after Exiled. I just wanted to explore their issues further, and for my first fic in this fandom, I think it's pretty good.
...............
And that's it! Thanks again for the ask :)
#wow i haven't posted anything in a while#(it's barely been 2 days but still)#ask#friend ask#fanfic commentary#trauma mention#fanfiction#ahkj
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For the fanfic ask meme, please I'd like to request all the questions for Light After Loss, if it's not too much. I love that verse. It's unique and I'm very curious about it.
Oh my Gosh it’s not too much at all! I love this fic and would love to talk about it some more.
1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?
I had read a few fics where they had done the same thing. Half in the present tense and half in the past. It worked perfectly because the entire situation would be hard to write in order and like this, I felt like we were getting backstory while moving onto the plot so it doesn’t drag too much- all while keeping some things mysterious.
2: What scene did you first put down?
The first scene I wrote was the past tense of Chapter 1. I really put a lot of thought in how Dick would feel suddenly finding himself pregnant. I wanted to write something that would really portray and set the tone for the sexism against betas and Dick’s overall fear. I’m pretty happy with it.
3: What’s your favourite line of narration?
Statistically, it’s impossible. Beta’s are sterile, their genetics a mangle of faulty genes that should never be able to breed.
This was one of if not the first line I wrote for Light after Loss. It perfectly sets the tone of the fic and I’m really happy with it.
4: What’s your favourite line of dialogue?
“ Nuh huh- what about the mushy peas princess? “
I loveeee Dad!Jason and the entire exchange here was a joy to write.
5: What part was hardest to write?
Chapter 3 has been tricky to write because here we’re in Damian’s POV and I’m struggling to show a sexist Dick Grayson while showing and explaining why he is the way he is. In this fic Jason and Dick both have their faults and stories and in no way did I want one to be a clear victim or abuser.
6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?
Well it’s not sexy for one.
Haha. I really wanted to explore something different from what I had done before. Something not only unsexy but something that makes readers feel, hurt, and think. I was blown away by the comment section of chapter one because so many people had already sniffed out plot points to come! This fic has by far been the one with the most thinking and discussion put into it.
7: Where did the title come from?
I work at a crystal shop and one day a lady came in with a flier advertising a support group called‘ Light after Loss.’ I immediately thought the name was amazing even though I had no fics in mind. Every heartbroken story she would share made me think- wow I really want to write something like this.
8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?
I lived in England for a bit growing up when our Island was hit by a hurricane my mother sent us to live in a more country area with her best friend Mandy. It was amazingly different. I really enjoyed the experience and when I thought- I want Jason to be somewhere safe England immediately popped to mind. I’m very thankful for my friend @elwon who has been proofreading and fact-checking the fic to make sure it lines up with the image in my head and what England is really like. She’s been especially amazing with explaining Makaton and helping me write Princess.
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
Not really but I thought of a lot of things. Originally Princess spoke and I had to go back and change a little of chapter one to accommodate that. Other than that I did the thinking first so when it was time to write I was ready.
10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?
Well, I’m in the JayDick Discord server and everyone in there has done a great job biting me with the JayDick bug. In this case, it also fits because Dick is older and if any of them was going to end up in this situation I thought it would be him. Dick has had to make a lot of hard choices before and he and Jason’s relationship sets the perfect stage for angst and drama.
11: What do you like best about this fic?
That it explores the beta dynamic and potential scenarios that aren’t sexy.
Abortion, miscarriage, adoption, sexism- These are things that happen in real life and as happy as I am to write a breeding fic what happens after is rarely explored or at least in-depth. One of my favourite SasuNaru fics explores this wonderfully and I thought- you know what I like this I want to go here too.
12: What do you like least about this fic?
My writing ability. I really wish I was able to layer my plots better. There are so many things to write and so many subtleties to add but I struggle to do it. Sometimes I wonder if I have the order of events wrong because there are very key things that have lead us to present time that we need to know. I wish my planning was better so I could really present the readers with all the facts surrounding Dick’s pregnancy.
13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?
I can’t really do two things at once. So I don’t listen to music while writing. I don’t have any recommendations either but if any have any there self I would love to hear!
14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?
That it’s okay for things not to be simple and cut and dry? I didn’t want to write a black and white he’s wrong she’s wrong. I feel like we shouldn’t be afraid to strip down all the characters a bit and really sink our teeth into omegaverse. There are so many amazing fics that do this but sometimes we’re so busy looking for the sexy that they get overlooked.
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
That I have a long way to go as a writer. I read so many well-written fics to get into the mood for this and talked to friends and family about what I want to do and how I want to do it. I think the biggest thing I learned was that I have trouble sticking to tense which I’m still trying to get better at doing.
Of all the fic I’ve written this is one of my favourites and means a lot to me. I think the 2500+ views on this fic feels more like 30k to me. I am that appreciative for every comment and kudo. To know people actually want to read this weird fic is amazing and I’m so humbled that people want to read more and know more about it!
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Fanfic Ask Game
b, c
e [Wanting Was Enough, For Me, It Was Enough]
f
j [Wanting Was Enough, For Me, It Was Enough]
k, m, n, q, r, a, t
B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?
Not really but when I write kids, sometimes they're inspired by a nephew or niece and their antics like in this chapter, little Nora Severide tells Sylvie she has a boyfriend and that was what my then four year old niece told me almost word for word 😂 kids say the darnest things. One day, when she's 18 I will remind her of that conversation lol. She's probably not going t remember it as vividly as I do.
C: What member do you identify with most?
If it's a character, it's Matt most of the time and I can't explain why or Violet, who I love making a supporting character.
E: If you wrote a sequel to Wanting Was Enough, For Me, It Was Enough, what would it be about?
I'd probably write some alternate 9x13 but instead of Matt going to Grainger, when he finds out they broke up, he'll tell Sylvie how he feels (and thus saving us a lot of time and angst).
F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
“Matt,” Sylvie begins.
“Hmm?” he hums in response.
“How come you’ve never really dated anyone after Gabby?”
Sylvie knew Matt had gone on a few dates - the reporter covering a story about the trailer park fires, Sylvie recalls her name was Naomi, the tech girl who installed the high tech alarm system at 51 before Boden got pissed and broke it and most recently, that victim whose car got crushed by a kitten claw sign. But none of them stuck around for very long.
Matt looks at her in surprise, clearly taken aback by her question. Even Sylvie’s not sure where the curiosity is coming from. Maybe she just wants to know where his head was at. She’s choosing to blame it on the glass of wine she had.
It takes a few seconds for Matt to answer. “It just never felt right, you know?”
“You mean Vanilla Thunder wasn’t your soulmate?” Sylvie deadpans.
Matt snorts at the joke but his face quickly turns serious again, looking at her with his blue eyes darker than usual, “I’m not looking for a temporary distraction, Sylvie. It has to be right for it to work out - the right time and the right person.”
The right time and the right person, Sylvie repeats in her head. It sounded like a very Matt Casey thing to say. He’s been through the ringer, she knows, and she can respect his desire to find something real, something that will last a lifetime. Lord knows he deserves it. Somehow as those words continue to sink in, she starts to feel a bit warmer and it’s not just because they’re standing in front of the oven. It has a lot more to do with how he’s staring at her with this almost beatific smile.
“I just want you to be happy, Matt,” she blurts out unceremoniously. Again, blame it on the alcohol.
“Sylvie, I am happy,” he assures her, radiating sincerity, before looking at Elijah and kissing the top of his head, “I’m really happy.”
It's a really long passage but I've always seen Matt as someone who knew what he wanted and having anything less than that wasn't worth it for him. Traditionally, we would read about women left to do the pining and the waiting but I wanted it to be something different. Let the man know exactly what and who he wants and not dilly dally.
J: Write or describe an alternative ending to Wanting Was Enough, For Me, It Was Enough
I quite like where I ended it. It's probably the only open ended fic I've written but have an alternate ending which you can sub for the last section.
"So how are things with Grainger?" Matt asks politely as they drive to the restaurant.
Sylvie glances at him, looking up from her book, surprised by his question. He's just making small talk, she thinks, he can't possibly know that they broke up last night after too many cancelled plans on her part.
"We, uh, we split up."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he states earnestly. He meant it because even if he let his jealousy get the better of him while the Lieutenant was on their shift, Sylvie deserved to be happy. If there was one person on Earth that did, it was her.
"Maybe it's me - maybe I'm the problem," she mumbles before going back to her book. She says it so quietly that she thinks Matt doesn't; hear because there's a beat of silence before he speaks again.
"Sylvie, you're not the problem," he says firmly, gazing at her at they reach a stoplight, his eyes conveying nothing but sincerity, "any guy would be lucky to be with you."
Just not the ones I want, she muses bitterly, thinking about their kiss in her apartment and the her question afterwards. She takes a deep breath, shaking off her thoughts. No. They were friends. She shouldn't go down this road again.
"I mean it," he continues angling his body towards her, "and you know, maybe we can talk soon?"
He looks at her hopefully.
Talk?
"I think there's a couple of things I need to clarify after that night," he mentions, one of his hands moving to the back of his neck, rubbing it gently and quite nervously.
Sylvie smiles softly. Talking sounded good. It sounded wonderful.
"I'd like that," she tells him just as the light turns green and he grins at her before turning to face the road ahead.
K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?
Aside from major character death, there's one where Matt and Sylvie are friends and she likes him but he's moving away and he doesn't feel the same way but she blurts it out one night at his going away party and he just looks so sorry because he just started seeing this one girl and he just really loves her as a platonic friend.
And I don't know where the rest goes but yeah, this is probably never going to get written.
M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?
Not right now. I have a few WIPs but I think all of them will likely get done at some point..
..this year.
N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?
Not really. I think each writer has a unique voice so if I get an idea, I'd want to see it through and finish writing it.
Q: How do you feel about collaborations?
I'm open to it!
R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?
I really like how Sally Rooney writes. I've read all her books and she just manages to make people feel. I wouldn't say I'm really influenced by other fanfic writers. When I'm writing, I have a tendency not to read a lot of fics and catch up after I'm done mostly because I don't want to subconsciously grab another person's idea. Not sure if that makes sense but I'm just scared that I mistakenly think of it as my own when I've read it in a fic somewhere.
S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?
*I'm gonna presume the a above is actually s?
Friends to lovers will always be top tier, like the mutual pining? the tension? the confession?
T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?
I'm not a super big fan of super far out AUs
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