Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
On the horribleness of reality: when I wrote The Magicians I was really struggling a lot personally, with depression and other things. I strongly felt the horribleness of reality. But my life has changed a lot since then: I got therapy, I got psychopharmaceuticals, I got remarried, had more kids, wrote some books that weren’t flops. Reality and I are on way more civil terms. I actually think Quentin’s arc in The Magician’s Land reflects this pretty clearly. I don’t think I was wrong about reality, basically, but my attitude toward the horribleness has changed. I’m more robust about it.
The struggles never go away, but I think the way that [Quentin] responds to stimulus has shifted, especially after a lot of the experiences last year, last season. When you think about it, he sort of has the emotional wisdom of someone who’s like 120-something years old after having experienced like, a whole life where he fell in love with a woman and a man, and had a child, and lost his wife, and lost his best friend and soulmate, and saved the world, and maybe ruined the world. He’s experienced a lot. And so, I guess I don’t think those things go away, but I think that we’ll see a shift in the way he responds to his internal demons.
Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
Monday morning came in fits of flickering autumn gold. The weekend had gone by so quickly, Quentin seemed to only remember it in gasps and snatches now. Beautiful fragments of memory. The kind that felt more like dreams than things that had actually happened. Leftover pie on the sofa; breezing their way through his dad’s old man movie collection. Model airplanes and Fillory books and bad jokes that made Quentin laugh until his stomach hurt. So much love it was like it had been meant for someone else. Someone other than Quentin. Someone who’d always understood that life was meant to be this beautiful.
i finished editing the final chapter of a litany of dreams today. as tempting as it is to just yeet this 25k monster onto ao3 right now, i’m going to spend monday-wednesday giving it one final pass and i plan on posting thursday…
my final pass of the chapter is finished. my long and rambling end notes are written. this is happening, y’all…
i finished editing the final chapter of a litany of dreams today. as tempting as it is to just yeet this 25k monster onto ao3 right now, i’m going to spend monday-wednesday giving it one final pass and i plan on posting thursday…
So I guess I’m just??? Supposed to rec some of my personal favs that I’ve written??? I’m going to limit myself to five otherwise I might be here all day agonizing over which others to choose lmao. I think it goes without saying all of my picks are going to be Queliot.
AKA the one where Q and El are exes who had an intense D/s relationship in undergrad. This might be cheating a little since this is technically two fics (and i’m already working on part three lol) but part two is such a necessary continuation of part one that it’s hard for me to really separate them in my mind. This series is my best work imo, and it’s the universe that continues to inspire me the most. I thought once I’d wrapped part two I might start to drift away from it a bit, but I still feel so compelled to keep diving back into this universe that I can’t see myself truly stopping anytime soon…
ANYWAY if you like stories about messy human connections, heavy angst with a happy ending, love that borders on obsession, and tons of kinky sex, you might want to give this one a try. :)
AKA the fic that was inspired by 5x03 spoilers before season 5 aired. And I’m not saying my interpretation of the mountain of ghosts is superior to what the show eventually did with it, but… no wait. That’s exactly what I’m saying lmao. If I were writing this one today, it would almost certainly be double the length and probably ten times as messy, but for what it is and where I was as a writer in late 2019, I’m still really proud of what I accomplished here.
AKA the one where Eliot sends the letter. A fic I will forever think deserved way more love than it got. If this hadn’t been for a monthly prompt challenge, I likely would have turned this into a multi-chapter fic, and sometimes I wish I would have but I still think it’s pretty great… even if I haven’t so much as glanced at it since 2020 lmao. <3
Eliot has magic rainbow wings and Quentin is temporarily a miniature sun suspended in the sky over Brakebills. Sounds like crack, but it mostly isn’t lmao. I seem to recall this one having some truly excellent banter I was super proud of at the time. I think this was also the last true fix-it fic I wrote for these two???? As much as I enjoyed fixing the mess that was canon, honestly I’m glad to have it out of my system so I can blissfully live in season one au land forever and ever lol.
My most recent oneshot, and one of the horniest things I’ve ever written. A true testament to what you can all continue to expect from me in 2022 onward lmaoooo
—
Tagging @ everyone!!! Please hype yourself and rec your own fics and say I tagged you because I DID.
Okay no wait I actually have one more I really should have included above and it’s going to bug me so perhaps a bonus self-rec lmao:
but i would die for you in secret is the epitome of these two being idiots (especially Q lol) with a side of Eliot being a total monogamist (which is canon fight me) aka two of my most favorite things to incorporate into fic. Also? It’s pretty damn hot if I do say so myself…
So I guess I’m just??? Supposed to rec some of my personal favs that I’ve written??? I’m going to limit myself to five otherwise I might be here all day agonizing over which others to choose lmao. I think it goes without saying all of my picks are going to be Queliot.
AKA the one where Q and El are exes who had an intense D/s relationship in undergrad. This might be cheating a little since this is technically two fics (and i’m already working on part three lol) but part two is such a necessary continuation of part one that it’s hard for me to really separate them in my mind. This series is my best work imo, and it’s the universe that continues to inspire me the most. I thought once I’d wrapped part two I might start to drift away from it a bit, but I still feel so compelled to keep diving back into this universe that I can’t see myself truly stopping anytime soon…
ANYWAY if you like stories about messy human connections, heavy angst with a happy ending, love that borders on obsession, and tons of kinky sex, you might want to give this one a try. :)
AKA the fic that was inspired by 5x03 spoilers before season 5 aired. And I’m not saying my interpretation of the mountain of ghosts is superior to what the show eventually did with it, but… no wait. That’s exactly what I’m saying lmao. If I were writing this one today, it would almost certainly be double the length and probably ten times as messy, but for what it is and where I was as a writer in late 2019, I’m still really proud of what I accomplished here.
AKA the one where Eliot sends the letter. A fic I will forever think deserved way more love than it got. If this hadn’t been for a monthly prompt challenge, I likely would have turned this into a multi-chapter fic, and sometimes I wish I would have but I still think it’s pretty great… even if I haven’t so much as glanced at it since 2020 lmao. <3
Eliot has magic rainbow wings and Quentin is temporarily a miniature sun suspended in the sky over Brakebills. Sounds like crack, but it mostly isn’t lmao. I seem to recall this one having some truly excellent banter I was super proud of at the time. I think this was also the last true fix-it fic I wrote for these two???? As much as I enjoyed fixing the mess that was canon, honestly I’m glad to have it out of my system so I can blissfully live in season one au land forever and ever lol.
My most recent oneshot, and one of the horniest things I’ve ever written. A true testament to what you can all continue to expect from me in 2022 onward lmaoooo
—
Tagging @ everyone!!! Please hype yourself and rec your own fics and say I tagged you because I DID.
when Quentin wakes up from his coma after Alice dies:
and the letter Eliot wrote him long before he woke up:
I can’t stop thinking about Eliot anticipating Quentin waking up full of guilt and shame, and doing what he could to alleviate some of it by saying, basically: even now, I see the good in you; even now, we belong together.
Happy WIP Wednesday, everyone! Okay… so. I have two things I’m actively working on at the moment: the first chapter of part three of the time cast a spell on you series (I know I said I was stepping away from that for a couple months but… lmao. Listen. I’m just gonna work on it very slowly and that almost counts as taking a break right…) and a super top secret oneshot I’m going to share a little snippet of today. All I’ll say about it for now is that it’s Queliot (obvs) and Extremely On Brand™ for me lmao. Enjoy…
—
Reaching out in the dark, Eliot took both of Quentin’s hands in his own. The shock of his warmth so immediate and intense Quentin nearly crumbled. “You’re cold,” he said, softly, fondly. “What have you been doing?”
“Um—” Quentin laughed, his whole body trembling now. “Getting high with Julia out back.”
“Naughty, naughty,” Eliot teased with a cluck of his tongue. The sound of his voice setting Quentin’s brain on fire, every neuron seeming to flare all at once. “Well, luckily for you my discipline happens to be warming pretty boys up. Did you know that?”
“Uh, I thought it was…” Fuck. Quentin couldn’t think, his brain like oily black sludge in his skull. What was the name of Eliot’s actual discipline again? Tele-something. Tele—“Lifting shit…”
Eliot hummed, shifting close. His hands reaching up and teasing along the slope of Quentin’s neck. “Common misconception,” he said. “I can prove it if you don’t believe me. Why don’t you come closer, hm? It’s so much nicer here under the covers with me.”
Happy WIP Wednesday, everyone! Okay… so. I have two things I’m actively working on at the moment: the first chapter of part three of the time cast a spell on you series (I know I said I was stepping away from that for a couple months but… lmao. Listen. I’m just gonna work on it very slowly and that almost counts as taking a break right…) and a super top secret oneshot I’m going to share a little snippet of today. All I’ll say about it for now is that it’s Queliot (obvs) and Extremely On Brand™ for me lmao. Enjoy…
—
Reaching out in the dark, Eliot took both of Quentin’s hands in his own. The shock of his warmth so immediate and intense Quentin nearly crumbled. “You’re cold,” he said, softly, fondly. “What have you been doing?”
“Um—” Quentin laughed, his whole body trembling now. “Getting high with Julia out back.”
“Naughty, naughty,” Eliot teased with a cluck of his tongue. The sound of his voice setting Quentin’s brain on fire, every neuron seeming to flare all at once. “Well, luckily for you my discipline happens to be warming pretty boys up. Did you know that?”
“Uh, I thought it was…” Fuck. Quentin couldn’t think, his brain like oily black sludge in his skull. What was the name of Eliot’s actual discipline again? Tele-something. Tele—“Lifting shit…”
Eliot hummed, shifting close. His hands reaching up and teasing along the slope of Quentin’s neck. “Common misconception,” he said. “I can prove it if you don’t believe me. Why don’t you come closer, hm? It’s so much nicer here under the covers with me.”
“Hey.” Eliot was there, gazing down, his pretty pink mouth curling up. Reality slogging by in slow motion. The way he reached out with one hand, took Quentin by the front of his shirt.
“Hey—”
The word clipped off at the end, rolling into a dark-throated moan. Eliot was swallowing it down. It was maddening, the way it built, all heat and pawing hands. Deep and slow, chambers of Quentin’s heart working like pistons. Pounding, pounding—
“One week into their reunion fuckfest,” Margo’s voice suddenly cut in through the fog, “and already these two are gonna turn me into the bitch who has to say get a room.”
Eliot’s lips went still as stone, his grip on Quentin’s shirt going slack. “Eight days,” he muttered. A single kiss pressed to the corner of Quentin’s mouth, and he pulled away, turning his attention swiftly to Margo. “Reunion fuckfest started eight days ago, Bambi.”
a litany of dreams|part two of the time cast a spell on you series
![a screenshot of an ebook with part of the text highlighted. it reads, He supposed he could have been angry that they had left him there, in Fillory, with no way of returning to his own world. [begin highlight] But all he felt was warm, cowardly relief. The sight of their faces would have burned the skin right off him with shame. [end highlight] He wished he had died, and if he couldn't have death, at least he had this, the next best thing: total isolation, lost forever in Fillory. He was broken in a way that magic could never fix.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7d3906277b2cc9b59a2dae70918a4dda/5237ee27c6f04bf1-3a/s640x960/77280874d8d3a9b5bfb05e28e81915dca6e29052.png)
![a screenshot of an ebook with some text highlighted. the words are written in all capital letters and it reads, Dear Q, Hell of a thing getting you out of that dungeon. Richard showed up, finally, for which I suppose we should be grateful, but G-d knows he doesn't make it easy. We wanted to stay Q, but it was hard, and getting harder every day. The centaurs said it wasn't working, but if you're reading this then you woke up after all. [begin highlight] I'm sorry about everything. I know you are too. [end highlight] I know I said I didn't need a family to become who I was supposed to be, but it turned out that I did. And it was you. [begin highlight] We'll meet again. [end highlight] -E](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a8ff1a35bc387c60595cbb0096378507/5237ee27c6f04bf1-f0/s640x960/138d7fb885c1d7531af243c993ece5fdda93423b.png)
