Writer Q&A: 1,3, 11
Also, just finished reading 'The Exchanger'. I don't have any way to properly comment on that fic that isn't in the language of keyboard smashing or screams. I'm still waiting for the ball to come out of the sky, and omgwtfasdgfs how can you leave it hanging like that?!?! Please, PLEASE tell me you have a follow-up in mind!!
Hello, my friend!! Thank you so much for the asks <3 This'll probably be a long one, so it's going to be under the cut~
1.) What led you to start writing fan fiction?
I'm not entirely sure. I've been basically writing for my whole life (ever since I was a wee lad) and my roots started in... Sonic fanfiction... Not my proudest moment, but we all have to start somewhere. I was my own worst nightmare when I was merely seven >:)
(I still have the god awful notebook with one of the first fics in it... No, I can't decipher it-)
3.) What experiences/influences have shaped your writing the most?
The last fandom I was in truly brought out my absolute need to be writing constantly and my love for AUs. Upon joining the Yugioh fandom, though, I started to learn how to shape my fanfics and build them up with more emotions (also, I learned how to write smut! which is such a huge accomplishment because I used to never get that far). It's always baffling to look back on my first posted Yugioh fic and my most recent one.
I suppose one experience that I can recall that has truly influenced me and my writing is when I was forced to join a literature contest once and I won first place. It wasn't anything spectacular, but that was the first time that I had officially won something. I forget about it a lot, but I know that gave me an ego/confidence boost of sorts at the time to pursue writing more seriously.
11.) What attracted you to the fandom(s)/media you write in?
Oh, yes, the story about how I accidentally fell into the world of Yugioh. Around the beginning of quarantine, I was still writing for my old fandom. There was an artist on Instagram that did fanart for that fandom, but also did art/talked a lot about Yugioh 5D's. One night, I got bored and I put it on my TV while I was falling asleep. I woke up the next morning, started paying attention, and... Well, here we are.
I replaced 5D's with DM and I actually didn't start properly watching that one until the middle of season 3. I know, I'm insane, but it's difficult for me to get into something from the very beginning. I spent most of quarantine writing fanfiction while binging all of the Yugioh shows (I stopped at VRAINS, but I've watched enough of that to have a vague idea of what happens). And yeah! That's how I got here :)
As for The Exchanger...
I'm so glad you enjoyed it! That ending was definitely something, wasn't it? >:) I do have a follow up floating around in my head, but I'm currently drowning in projects, so... Hopefully I'll be able to get there at some point amongst all of them (and maybe when I get an actual idea of where I'm going with things).
If anyone else would like to send an ask: Questions
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Maddie humbles him pretty severely in their conversation. Look, he knows it's stupid, knows it's selfish really, knows it's just plain crappy of him. But. But he hurt Christopher. And there wasn't some big uncontrollable variable like a tsunami that Eddie can explain it away with.
Sure, it was an accident, but it still happened. Sure, it was only a few scrapes that he'd cleaned up almost immediately with the little first aid kit tucked into the glove compartment of his Jeep - and, well, maybe part of the guilt is the way Christopher had grimaced at the added sting of the antiseptic wipes. But he'd done it. He'd made Christopher cry. And he'd ran as soon as Eddie swept in to take care of him. He'd ran before either of them could tell him to get out.
Christopher is injured, and Buck hasn't been to see him once. Christopher is injured because of Buck, and he's only checked in through a much too knowing Eddie. Because he's a coward, especially when it comes to Christopher. Jesus, nothing in the world scares him more than Christopher. Everything's so big and inconceivable with him. Buck feels it all, feels it all so strongly. The things he'd do for that kid... Well, that scares him too. Almost as much as Christopher's anger does, but he can't run from it forever. He can't stay away forever, so he shoots Eddie a quick text as he leaves Maddie's.
Can I come see Chris at some point?
He's just buckling himself into the driver's seat when his phone buzzes with a reply.
Get over here
Another buzz.
Now
His already knotted stomach twists into an even more complex shape as he turns the key in the ignition, but he has to face the music some time or another. May as well be now.
It takes him an inordinately long and nauseating time to get to the Diaz door, an even longer time to actually knock and then a terrifyingly short amount of time for Eddie to be appearing before him with those big, understanding eyes he can never seem to escape.
"Hi," he mumbles, suddenly struck with what image he must make out there on the porch. A naughty dog with a guiltily hung head and a tail between his legs just waiting to be patted on the head and told he's forgiven.
"Buck, come in." Eddie rolls his eyes and practically drags him inside. Buck had been about ninety-nine per cent sure (okay, maybe more like eighty) that Eddie's texts had been fond exasperation and not actual anger, but it's not until he hears Eddie's voice that he knows for sure. He was never a bad dog in Eddie's mind. Buck's tail wags just a little as Eddie leans back against the hallway wall with his arms folded over his chest. "He's in his room and he misses his Buck."
"Even after I almost killed him?" he mutters petulantly.
"Buck, you tripped over his crutches. The both of you went down and, honestly, you walked away worse than he did." Buck opens his mouth to argue, but Eddie ploughs on. "Don't lie to me. I saw those bruises on your ribs last shift. I know how weaponised those elbows can become."
"I'm fine."
"So is he," Eddie says seriously. "You know how many times I've tripped over his crutches?"
"Did you feel guilty about it afterwards?" Buck pries, eyes trained on his shoes where they kick lightly, sheepishly at the carpet.
"Of course, I did. I always do. Hell, I accidentally got some salt in his eyes when we were cooking the other day and I almost took myself down to Athena's station." Eddie shakes his head, unimpressed. "I'm his dad, I'd send him outside in a bubble wrap suit if I could. But I've been informed that isn't 'cool'," Buck snorts, "so I'm trying my best to make peace with the fact that that he's going to get hurt and I'm not always going to be stop it. But." Eddie steps closer, drops a hand to Buck's shoulder, ducks his hand to catch his eye. And Buck feels the echo of a wave and three ragged scratches across his face. "But I can always be there after it happens, to pick him back up and tend to his wounds, yeah?"
"Yeah," Buck whispers, nodding against the whirring of his brain.
"He's already mostly healed up. Go and see for yourself." Eddie leaves with a pointed look at Christopher's door, and Buck stays staring down the hallway like he can will it into something that feels a little less like a walk on the plank.
As he takes his first step, for just a moment, he wishes he was back in the endless labyrinthine hallways of his coma dream just to postpone his fate a little longer.
See, what he hadn't told Maddie was that he had actually tried texting Christopher a few days after their tumble. A sorry and an I hope you're okay and a jokey maybe we should leave basketball to the pros which had only gleaned a thumbs up emoji in response. So, he's not feeling very optimistic when he knocks on Christopher's door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Buck, buddy." Silence. A sigh maybe, if he strains. "C-can I come in?"
Another pause.
"Fine."
Buck pushes into the room with his heart in his throat. Christopher doesn't look up from his textbook where he's propped up against his headboard, just carries on reading. Buck approaches carefully, hovering at the end of the bed where he'd normally just sit.
"How are you doing?" he asks uselessly.
"Fine."
"Yeah?" Christopher only shrugs, and Buck sighs in defeat. "I'm really sorry, bud. I didn't mean to do it, you have to know that. I'd never ever do anything to hurt you-"
"Wait." Chris finally looks up from his book with his frown. "Do you think I'm mad because you tripped me up?"
"I-I, well, yeah." Buck blinks. "So, you are mad?"
"Yeah, I'm mad, but not about that." Chris groans and slams his book shut. "Why'd you disappear?"
"B-because I thought you'd be mad at me for, you know, hurting you," Buck says dumbly. Christopher rolls his eyes so similarly to Eddie's earlier expression that Buck aches with it.
"You didn't hurt me. Gravity hurt us."
"But you're mad at me."
"Because you disappeared!" Chris bursts. Buck's mouth snaps shut with a click. "Everything's changing. You and me and dad barely ever hang out anymore. And I know I'm getting older, so I shouldn't want to, but I do. But you're both dating, so it's always just the one of you. Or the three of us and a stranger. And I hate it. And the last time this happened, you promised you weren't going anywhere, but you did! And I want you both to be happy, and I really don't want dad to feel so lonely now I'm growing up, but I wish..." Christopher ducks his head as if suddenly realising he'd revealed too much.
"You wish?" Buck asks on the exhale of a breath he'd been holding since Christopher's little outburst, something fierce and jagged latching itself to his sternum.
"I wish you both could be happy with..." He shrinks into himself a little, and Buck wraps his hand around the footboard like a lifeline - like whatever Christopher is about to say will turn the world upside down. "I wish this was enough. I wish the three of us could make you both as happy as-as it makes me." He flushes and cracks his textbook open. "It sounds dumb when I say it."
"No, no," Buck croaks, something big and unwieldy expanding against the inside of his ribs, something that could choke him if he let it. "It doesn't sound dumb at all."
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