Welcome to my blog! Here’s a bit of information and some links to help settle you in.
About:
I’m just here to join the AHWM party! I’ve been a fan of Markiplier since almost the beginning of his channel, but I’ve never fully delved into the fandom before now, so here I am!
This blog is dedicated mainly to Mark’s content (and my work that is inspired by it), particularly A Heist with Markiplier, its related series, and throwbacks to Unus Annus (rest in peace).
I don't take writing requests, but I'm always happy to geek out about writing, so feel free to drop me a message!
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Muffled shouting bounced back and forth from inside Shark’s office, making you curl up in your chair as you waited outside for your turn on the chopping block.
“Jeez. He’s fighting for his life in there,” you winced.
Yancy sat next to you, his legs outstretched and arms folded. He fiddled with a toothpick between his teeth – an attempt to stop smoking, or so he’d told you – seemingly unbothered by the situation the three of you were in.
“He’ll be fine. He’s clearly the boss’s favourite anyways.”
You huffed a small laugh. As much as you wanted to agree with him, you weren’t so sure Mark could swing this one. You shrunk further into your seat.
“Do we really have to do this one by one? Feels like I’m outside the principal’s office,” you sighed, clutching your arms.
Yancy chuckled under his breath and took the toothpick from his mouth, turning to you with a cocked eyebrow. “Can’t imagine yous ever needed to see the principal, Z. Yous way too much of a goody two-shoes.”
“Hey!” You protested, playfully punching his arm. “I’ll have you know I was sent to the principal’s office in middle school. Twice, actually.”
“You’re shittin’ me!” Yancy grinned, turning to face you fully. “What for?”
You felt your face heating up at the memories. “Once for skipping class when I hadn’t studied for a pop quiz. Another for… well, I was sticking up for this other kid who was getting picked on, so they turned on me instead. The principal didn’t see it that way though. All she saw was the bully on the ground with a bloody nose and me standing over him.”
Yancy laughed, throwing his head back. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the way you kicked my ass. So yous always had a thing for stickin’ up for the little guy, huh?”
You stared at him for a minute, feeling warmth bubble in your chest. Despite the lingering tension from last night’s failed heist, and the confusion between your feelings for Mark and Yancy tearing your mind apart, he still managed to make you flustered.
More shouting came from Shark’s office, startling you back to reality, and you took the opportunity to change the subject.
“Well what about you? You can’t expect me to believe you never got sent to the principal’s office.”
Yancy shrugged and looked off into the distance, a vague gloominess in his expression. “No, actually. I was a good kid in school. It wasn’t until later when things… went off the rails a little.”
He shook his head with a slight frown, his shoulders deflating. “Look, I’m sorry for losin’ my cool last night. I know I ain’t perfect, but… yous gave me another chance by givin’ me a way outta prison. I don’t wanna mess that up, but I’ll take the heat for whatever’s comin’.”
He looked at you, sadness furrowed in his eyebrows. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it gently across his tattoo.
“I appreciate it, but I think we’re all in deep shit. Shark won’t let us off the hook easily after last night. Besides… Mark’s probably the one you should apologise to first.”
Yancy huffed and rolled his eyes. “He don’t want no apology from me. The guy hates me.”
“He does not hate you. He just… he doesn’t get you.”
Yancy pressed his lips into a tight line with a steely gaze.
“Ain’t yous still mad at him for leavin’ you in prison?”
Nerves jolted through your stomach at his question. Your mind flicked back to your conversation with Mark in the storage closet, and the kiss he left on the top of your head when he found you by the lakeside.
“It’s… complicated. Look, whatever happens after this, please just try and apologise to him? For me?”
You squeezed his arm, which brought his attention back to your face. You smiled at him, and his eyes softened just a fraction.
“All right, fine. Only for you, Z.”
You exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Yancy. That means a lot.”
The door to Shark’s office swung open and both your heads snapped to the side. Mark walked out, closing the door behind him and turning to you. You leapt up from your chair.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Managed to wrangle desk duty for all of us for a little while,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair. “She wants to see you next, Zero. Then Yancy. Just to make sure our stories match.”
“How the hell did you manage that? It sounded like you were ready to kill each other in there.”
“Well, you know me. Mister Charisma and all that.”
He shot you a warm, confident smile, but his voice wavered slightly. You were about to wrap your arms around him in a hug when Yancy stood up and cleared his throat, approaching Mark.
“Mark…”
It occurred to you that this was the first time he’d actually addressed him properly. Mark straightened his posture, silence enveloping the three of you.
“Sorry for all the trouble last night.”
Mark looked at the floor, then back up again. “It’s okay. Forgetting the silencer was my fault.”
Yancy shrugged. “Yeah, but still. I’m sorry. Guess I got a little jea-reckless.”
Your eyes darted between the two gentlemen. Yancy held out a hand.
“We good?”
Mark blinked in bewilderment at the gesture, briefly flicking his eyes to you. He took Yancy’s hand with a firm shake, nodding his head.
“We’re good.”
Tension dissipated from your body. Maybe everything would work out after all.
Shark’s office door opened again and she stared at you with her icy blue gaze, cold as winter.
“Zero. In here.”
You gulped, stepping forward between the two men and into the office.
It was another thirty minutes until you were released from the lion’s den, muscles still tensed like a caged animal as you made your way back into the main office. You scurried to the coffee machine, ignoring Yancy’s eyes following your form as he pretended to busy himself over blueprints. Mark was stood leaning against Vakarian’s desk, throwing sad glances in your direction as he talked in a hushed tone. Vakarian nodded along to his words as he tightened a grappling gun with a screwdriver, swearing at the gadget occasionally. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. You prayed the ground would open up and swallow you whole, sweeping you away from the rumour mill.
The coffee machine whirred to life. You fixated on the brown liquid trickling into your mug, jaw clenching and unclenching as Shark’s words ripped through you.
“This is one more chance than you deserve. You’re lucky that Mark stuck up for you, or you’d be packing up your desk today.”
A shiver went up and down your spine, making your neck tense. You knew Shark had a flair for the dramatic sometimes, but her words still hurt. Tears pricked your eyes.
Before you could get too lost in thought, a tall figure bounced into your peripheral.
“Hey!”
Jasmine stood at your side, a panicked edge to her voice as her brown eyes scanned your face. Her ponytail was swaying from the way she’d darted from her desk over to you.
“Hey, Jazz,” you replied, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “We’re a little thin on the ground today, huh? Where’re Shrike and Gareth?”
“Out of town for a few days, I think,” she replied, but she didn’t let up. “Zero, what the hell’s going on? I’ve barely had chance to speak to you since the heist. Mark was a mess when he showed up without you, and then you came back with… who is that guy, his brother or something?”
“His name’s Yancy. And no, they’re not brothers,” you replied, cupping your mug in your hands for warmth.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and folded her arms, looking you up and down. Her lips pursed in thought, and her eyes were inquisitive, digging. You knew you couldn’t hide anything from her. Hell, you didn’t really want to – she was the closest friend you had at HQ, your confidant from day one.
You bit your lip, brow furrowing as more tears threatened to spill. Jasmine put a hand on your shoulder and gently nudged you towards the hallway, where the conference room was.
“Come on, let’s get some space and you can tell me everything.”
“Shark will be pissed if she doesn’t see me at my desk.”
“Fuck Shark,” Jasmine said a little too loudly. Mark and Vakarian glanced over in surprise. “She spends all day in her office until she needs something anyway. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. So come on.”
And tell her you did. Words poured out before you had a chance to filter what you were saying. You told her about the heist, how it started off with endorphins pumping but quickly dissolved into a disaster. You told her about the heartbreak of losing Mark and the surprise of meeting Yancy within a matter of minutes. The tear-filled argument with Mark about how he left you in prison. The euphoria at breaking Yancy out with the skeleton key and how he bargained his way into the group like it was nothing. And the museum, god the museum. Your head was spinning as that night resurfaced.
“I just…” you choked on more tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jazz.”
You sniffed, gripping your coffee in your lap.
Jasmine sat back in her seat with a sigh, eyes wide.
“I can see why,” she replied. “Two guys fawning and fighting over you in the span of… what, just over a week? When did your life become a shitty rom com?”
A smile started to creep onto her face, and you couldn’t help but return it as the absurdity of the timeline hit you. Soon, you were doubled over in laughter, tears still streaming down your face.
You took a deep breath and sat up straighter, the death grip on your mug loosening. You took a sip of the warm liquid.
“Look,” Jasmine leaned towards you, a gentle hand on your knee. “I know your head’s a mess right now. And Yancy? I get it, I really do. I have a thing for tattoos as well,” she chuckled. As your face dropped back into sadness, she tried again.
“It’s totally up to you at the end of the day. But… I’m not exaggerating when I say Mark was a total wreck while you were in prison. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. I’m not even sure he went home some nights.”
Your eyes met hers. Deep down you knew she wouldn’t bullshit you, but your heart still wrenched as you remembered the security footage, the way Mark sauntered off with barely a care in the world. Or maybe that’s just how it looked from your side… you weren’t so sure anymore.
“I just… fuck, I just don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
Jasmine waited in silence, her question hanging in the air like a thick haze. You were almost afraid to say what you said next.
“I don’t want to lose him. Or Yancy. But… I don’t know what I’ll do if Mark proves he was coming to get me. What… what happens then?”
Jasmine let out a low hum and lowered her head. More tears formed in your eyes, a lump rising in your throat.
“I guess you’ll have to make a choice.”
You scoffed, roughly wiping your tears with your palm and taking another swig of coffee. “I’m tired of making choices. Can’t someone else do it for once?”
Jasmine smiled. “If only.”
You sighed in unison. You felt like you were back outside the walls of Happy Trails again, two choices in front of you. But unlike then, the answer of what to do next didn’t come so easily. No matter how hard you thought about it, you stayed stuck there, rooted in the grass.
“I have to ask, though…” Jasmine began again, bringing you back to the room. “Is Yancy a good kisser?”
You blinked in bewilderment, stomach fluttering as you remembered his arms around you in the ballroom. A smile crept onto your lips-
Screech.
The two of you halted, listening.
The screech came again. Tyres on tarmac.
Then sirens.
“The fuck was that?” You hissed. You rose to move the blinds so you could peer out of the window, but Jasmine planted a firm hand on your knee.
“Stay down.”
Frozen in your spot, heart pounding, Jasmine carefully crawled to the door and cracked it open without a sound. Once you regained your courage, you followed her, dropping to the ground silently.
The hallway was empty ahead of you, and you could hear panicked, hushed voices from the main office and the sound of furniture scraping on the floor. At the far end of the hallway, Shark’s office was dark.
“Cops.”
Your heart dropped. “Shit, how did they find us?”
“No idea. But we need to get out.”
You wracked your scattered mind for another exit as you and Jasmine slowly crept down the hallway, stopping to duck under a vacant desk at the edge of the main office.
Bang.
“LAPD! Open up!”
“Fuck,” Jasmine’s breathing began an erratic pace as the main door bulged from its hinges against the desk that had been crudely shoved in front of it. She looked at you with wide eyes, like a cornered prey.
Something in your brain clicked.
“There’s a staircase to the roof near the gymnasium. If we can grab some grappling guns-”
Bang.
The noise made you jump out of your skin and you stifled a yelp.
“LAPD! We know you’re in there!”
“Jazz, we have to make a run for it.”
Words escaped Jasmine as terror took over, her face paling. It was unusual to see her with no confidence. It was up to you to take the lead.
You grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet as another resounding bang came from the door. The desk stayed planted, buying you some time.
“Come on.”
You sprinted across the office, Jasmine following you. As you passed Vakarian’s desk, you exclaimed in relief as you spotted the grappling gun still there. You grabbed it, but a strangled sob from underneath the desk caught your attention.
Vakarian was curled under the desk with his knees up to his ears, body shaking and eyes wide.
You held out a hand to him. “Vakarian, come on. We’re getting outta here.”
He looked at you like you were going to eat him alive, and shook his head. Jasmine stepped forward, a bit of colour back in her cheeks.
“Kieran, take my hand.”
At the sound of his real name, something changed in his eyes. He took Jasmine’s hand and stood up, still looking small and frail despite his tall frame.
That’s when it hit you.
We’re all just kids.
Well, not literally. But you certainly felt like it. Jasmine and Vakarian – Kieran – had been in this game longer than you. Long enough to know how to aim a sniper rifle, how to hack into almost any computer in the city, but clearly not long enough to know how to react when operations came crashing down. How many people like you had Shark taken under her wing and left in the dust when they were of no use to her anymore? More importantly, she was supposed to be your leader – so where the hell was she?
Another bang forced you back into action. “Down here.”
The sight of the door to the gymnasium brought some relief, but your stomach lurched with the resounding knowledge that two of your comrades were missing. Had they already fled and left you behind?
Before you could dwell on possibilities, a hand grabbed you from one of the unoccupied offices and pulled you inside. With a huff, you collided with the person’s chest.
“Zero, thank god, you’re okay.”
You looked up, relief flooding your face. “Mark!”
“It’s okay. We’re here.”
He gestured to his side as Jasmine and Kieran stumbled into the room. Yancy was pulling out an array of equipment from what appeared to be last night’s duffel bag. Unlike everyone else, his expression was completely calm. No trace of widened eyes, or scattered breathing. Just precision and calculation as he laid out equipment one by one as if he were counting pennies.
“You got everyone? Good job.” Mark looked behind him to Jasmine and Kieran. Jasmine didn’t know where to look, sending paranoid glances over her shoulder every few seconds as the banging continued. Kieran was still quivering.
“Yeah, but- where’s Shark?”
“I don’t know,” Mark responded. “She’s probably got her own escape plan. But I’m not letting anyone get left behind. Not on my watch.”
His expression was as firm as his words. When his eyes met yours again, a recent memory of that night in his kitchen resurfaced.
“This has happened to rookies before, Zero! But I wasn’t gonna let it happen to you!”
You gave him a grateful smile, tears threatening to form again, but you shook them away and laid out your plan.
“We can escape if we make it to the roof. But we need more grappling guns.”
“We already tried. Gymnasium’s locked.”
“Shit. Since when?”
“Guess boss lady started gettin’ a little paranoid,” Yancy chimed in with a dark edge to his voice. His eyes caught yours as he ran to the door. The distant banging was becoming more frequent. “Mark, that desk ain’t gonna hold forever.” His eyes landed on the grappling gun in your arms. “And we only got two grappling guns.”
“Shit,” Mark cursed. He grabbed the grappling gun from the table and headed into the hallway, the rest of you following him.
“You guys double up,” he said, handing a grappling gun to Kieran. “It can take the weight. It’s not a big drop anyways. Go straight up the stairs to the roof. Hook it on, get down, and get gone.”
Jasmine and Kieran didn’t need telling twice. The pair of them ran up the stairs and disappeared in seconds. Yancy grabbed your hand.
“Z. We gotta go.”
But you were rooted to the floor.
“Mark, what about you?”
Mark gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll find some other way out.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “You can’t be serious. We’re not leaving you.”
A final bang resounded from the office followed by the sound of clattering and hasty footsteps.
“LAPD!”
“And I can’t let you get arrested again.” Mark put a hand on your shoulder. “So please, go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Before you could protest further, violent shouts echoed down the hallway.
“Get your fucking filthy hands off me, pig!”
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “They got Shark.”
Mark’s eyes widened. Yancy tugged on your hand, but even he stayed put, listening.
“Loretta Simms, you are under arrest for burglary, conspiracy, theft, fraud, identity theft-”
“Fuck you,” she spat back.
You heard a slam, presumably as they pinned her to a desk and handcuffed her.
“Wait…” one of the cops began. “That’s not her name.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” One of them questioned back.
“That’s not her name. It’s Yvette Lawson.”
Yancy’s grip on your hand disappeared.
“Who?”
“The Cleveland Killer.”
Your blood ran cold. Mark’s mouth was agape in shock as you turned to look behind you.
Yancy seemed to turn into a child for a split second. His eyes were wide, disbelieving, lips quivering as words escaped him.
You heard Shark laugh darkly. “Surprised it took you guys this long to catch up. It’s amazing what you can achieve with some hair dye and coloured contacts these days. Even my own brother didn’t recognise me, dumb bastard.”
“Brother… holy shit. What was his name, Yancy or something? Where is he?”
Shark laughed again, manically this time. “He’s here too, you stupid fucks.”
In an instant, Yancy’s eyes darkened until they were almost black, his jaw solidifying. He spat out a singular word like venom.
“Motherfucker.”
He charged forward like a tornado determined, to destroy everything in his path. It took both you and Mark to hold him back, one of you on each arm as he thrashed and struggled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared like a wild animal.
“Yancy, stop!” You hissed, muscles crying out as you fought against him.
Yancy continued thrashing against your hold. “She ruined my fucking life! I can’t let her get away with that!”
“She’s not getting away,” you grunted, panting with effort. “They’re arresting her. Don’t let them do the same to you. Not again.”
Yancy stopped struggling and staggered back. His eyes caught yours, and you sensed his fear. You could only imagine what was going through his mind – another ten years behind bars, maybe more, with no chance of parole–
“They’re not gonna stop searching this place until they find him.”
The two of you turned to Mark. He was staring ahead as if he could see a thousand yards into the distance. His next three words were barely audible.
“There’s no time.”
Your breath halted. Mark turned his head to Yancy, a surprising aura of calmness creeping onto his face.
“People are always saying we look alike, right?” He asked, the ghost of a smile lingering on the corners of his mouth. You flicked your eyes to Yancy, whose brow was creased with confusion. Until something registered in his mind, and he started shaking his head.
“Mark, what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
Mark stepped towards him, the action in slow motion. He planted a hand on Yancy’s shoulder.
“Look after Zero for me.”
The puzzle clicked. Anger boiled in your blood, tears streaming down your face before you could stop them.
“Don’t you dare. We can still get out.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice cracked.
He turned to you, one hand cupping your cheek. He wiped a stray tear away, although his own eyes were bloodshot as he took in your face one last time.
“Visitation’s every third Sunday, right? Guess I’ll see you then.”
He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he pulled away, his eyes lingered on your lips for the briefest, sweetest moment, before he began to walk down the hallway. Away from you, and towards the fate he decided for himself. You watched on in horror, wrestling against Yancy as Mark raised his hands above his head and disappeared round the corner.
Yancy was still tugging your arm as sobs caught in your throat. Eventually your balance gave way and you fell into his arms. You knew you were fighting a losing battle, so you let him lift you up and guide you away. Tears blurred your vision as you climbed the stairs and slammed into the roof door.
The sun blinded you and wind rushed in your ears. Your breathing turned deep and erratic, the sobs escaping from your chest.
Yancy took the grappling gun from you and pierced it into a roof vent. “Come on, Z. Let’s get outta here.”
You inhaled shakily, barely managing a full breath. “We can’t leave him!”
“We don’t got a choice right now,” Yancy said, a hint of desperation in his tone. He led you to the edge of the roof, looping an arm around your waist. The wind pulled loose strands of hair away from their coiffed position and they danced wildly.
“Why did he do that?”
“Cause he’s a goddamn idiot,” Yancy grunted, but there was no malice to his words this time. “But he gave us a chance, and we gotta take it or we’ll be in the exact same shit he is. So come on.”
A final sniffle escaped as you hooked your arms around Yancy’s neck and secured your legs around his waist.
Seconds later you were scaling down side of the building, police sirens screaming in the distance and growing faint as you approached the ground. You thought about Mark being forced into the back of a police car and carted away, and your heart broke in two.
And so did something else above you.
You and Yancy looked at each other just as the tension in the rope gave way with a sickening snap.
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I think Yancy could survive being welded inside a submarine to navigate a blood ocean but Simon can't perform I Don't Wanna Be Free. There's a clear winner here
The clock had barely struck twelve by the time you stopped at the side of the Nixon Library. Mark offered to drive this time, giving you time to calm your nerves on the approach to the museum.
It seemed like only minutes since you’d last been here, the car park filled with a range of exotic and shiny vehicles, but now it was almost empty.
This was your chance to prove yourselves to Shark.
Mark stopped the car and the three of you hopped out. He peered around to make sure the coast was clear while Yancy stretched his neck from side to side and cracked his knuckles.
You opened the trunk and delved into the duffel bag Mark packed earlier, distracting yourself with an inventory count.
“Looks like there’s still staff from the exhibition hanging around,” Mark said.
“Damn,” you cursed. “How long does it take to clean up after a bunch of rich people?”
Yancy laughed darkly. “Depends how much blood was spilt.”
You and Mark turned to look at him, seriousness still lingering on your faces from his outburst the night before.
Yancy rolled his eyes. “Lighten up. It’s a joke.”
Mark shook his head and sighed. Yancy’s eyes caught yours briefly, and he raised an eyebrow. Your insides danced; whether from amusement or annoyance, you didn’t quite know.
Mark shuffled to stand next to you. “Okay, let’s go over the plan one more time. One of us is gonna scope the building from above, two of us will stay on the ground and sneak our way through. We’ll meet up in the ballroom and head into the West wing together. Any takers for the roof?”
“I think I’d rather stay on the ground,” you said, pulling out a tranquiliser gun and pocketing it. “I don’t feel comfortable scoping the roof on my own.”
Mark and Yancy glanced at one another, and your shoulders tensed.
Oh boy. Here we go again.
But, to your surprise, the bickering was minimal.
“I’ll take the roof. Be nice to try the grappling gun,” Yancy declared. He glanced at Mark. “Yous remembered to pack one, right?”
“Of course I did,” Mark scoffed. “Zero?”
You delved further into the bag, pulling out the grappling gun and another tranquiliser for Yancy.
“All right, you think you can handle it?” Mark asked him, the tiniest edge to his voice.
It was Yancy’s turn to scoff now as he pocketed with the various gadgets. “Course I can. I’ll let yous know when the coast is clear, all right?”
He turned to you, his eyes softening instantly. You nodded, swallowing thickly.
“We got this.” You said it more for yourself than for anyone else.
“Hell yeah we do,” Mark agreed. “Oh, and one last thing…” he took the duffel bag from you, pulling out a pair of two-way radios. “Use this to keep in touch. We’ll follow your lead, Yancy.”
Yancy hummed in response, taking one of the radios. With one last wink at you, he was out of sight within a few seconds, leaving you and Mark stood at the end of his car.
You broke the silence. “What else we got in there?”
“Oh, uh…” Mark blinked back into reality at your question, diving a hand into the bag. “Just some lockpicks and a screwdriver, in case any of the inner doors are locked. You wanna take ‘em or shall I?”
“I’ll take ‘em,” you said, holding out the tranquiliser gun you’d taken earlier. “Trade ya. You were always a better shot than me.”
You smiled at him, unable to hide it. He returned the gesture, a spark in his eyes you’d not seen much of the last few days. “True, but remember you learned from the best.”
A laugh escaped from your chest, and Mark’s face lit up like the stars above.
“You know, I never thought – I should have asked Yancy to bring the skeleton key, then we wouldn’t need the lockpicks.”
“Oh yeah!” Mark agreed, but his shoulders deflated slightly at the mention of Yancy. “Does he still have it?”
You shrugged. “I guess? I mean… I haven’t actually asked.”
“Are… are you still glad you got him out?”
You frowned at him. His expression was soft and sincere, but the question struck a nerve.
“Course I am. What kind of question is that?”
“I didn’t mean-” He stopped, sighing. “Just as long as you’re happy, that’s all.”
You looked away, avoiding his gaze by focusing on a street sign in the distance. The night air was becoming uncomfortably cold all of a sudden.
Mark began again. “It’s just… I was reading the news earlier today and-”
The sound of radio static from his pocket interrupted him.
“Hey, can yous hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” Mark replied, holding up the device between the two of you. “What’s goin’ on?”
“A bunch o’ janitors and some other folks just walked out the front door, security guards just walked in. Gardens are clear, for now. Yous might wanna move your asses.”
“Got it.”
Your heart rate began to quicken as you crouched behind a large rose bush, the rest of the garden still ahead of you with the museum not too far ahead. There was a large, square fountain in the middle of the garden, and you thanked your stars that it was still on. The sound of running water was perfect for obscuring the noise of your footsteps.
Mark crouched next to you. “Yancy, we’re in the gardens,” he whispered into the radio. “So far so good.”
“Good,” came Yancy’s response. “Hey, Zero, yous should see the views from up here. It ain’t half bad.”
Mark huffed, but he held the radio out to you. Although it was distorted, hearing his voice sent a wave of serenity over you. You took the radio, speaking softly.
“Yeah, I’ll bet. We gotta move but keep us posted, okay?”
“Sure thing, Z.”
You gave the radio back to Mark with a grateful smile, examining your surroundings to plan your next move.
“Fountain’s up ahead. Once we get past that, we’ll be right next to the East wing entrance.”
You and Mark looked at one another, and you spotted the glimmer in his eyes.
“You ready?”
His excitement was contagious, and your nerves seemed to lighten for a moment. “Let’s go.”
You and Mark paced quickly through the gardens, crouching low behind the myriad of rose bushes and stone statues as you crept your way ever closer to the museum. The rushing of the fountain grew louder as you approached it, the water appearing luminescent from the underwater lights in the bottom. Despite the tense situation you were in, your surroundings were surprisingly romantic.
You wished you had the time to stand and admire the fountain, maybe throw in a coin and make a wish–
Before you could distract yourself further, you realised the door to the East entrance was just ahead of you. A quick sprint would get you there. Mark was about to make a run for it when a gentle sound from the other side of the fountain caught your attention and you grabbed his hand.
“Wait,” you whispered. You nodded your head towards the source of the noise.
The two of you slowly raised your heads. Sure enough, a guard was sat on the edge of the fountain facing away from you, blowing smoke into the air from a cigarette in his right hand. You and Mark lowered your heads again and looked at each other. Without words, you knew the plan was to wait until it was safe.
After a couple of minutes, the guard tossed his unfinished cigarette into the fountain and walked back into the East wing. As the tension in your body dissipated, you realised you were still holding Mark’s hand. You let go, feeling warmth rush into your face. Mark let out a barely audible exhale.
“If we take it slow, he should be well out of our way by the time we get inside,” you said.
Mark blinked at you briefly, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”
You and Mark entered the East Wing, closing the door gently behind you. After surveying your surroundings, you sighed and stood up fully, your leg muscles crying out in relief. Mark spoke into the radio again.
“Yancy, we just made it inside the East Wing,” he saw in a low, husky voice. “Guard’s just been through here a few minutes ago, so we should be all clear.”
The radio crackled. “Yep, East Wing’s all clear from my view. I’ll meet yous in the ballroom.”
Mark joined you in standing up fully, letting his shoulders drop as he turned to you. “We’re safe here, no guards. We should be fine, but let’s still try and keep it down.”
“Of course.”
The two of you walked side by side through the hallway, still peering around and behind you every now and then out of habit. The radio buzzed once again, the noise making you jump out of your skin. Mark held it between the two of you.
“Yous should see this. Theys got a replica of the Oval Office in here!”
You let out a quiet laugh, gesturing for the radio. Mark gave it to you, his expression unmoving.
“Fancy yourself as President, Yancy?”
A low chuckle came from the radio. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”
You laughed again, turning to realise that Mark was staring into the distance, biting his lip. Guilt pooled into your stomach again, and you gave the radio back to him.
“Speaking of politics,” Mark piped up, tucking the radio into his back pocket, “Zero… something caught my eye in the news. Well, not something, but… someone.”
You turned your head towards him. “Okay. And…?”
Mark’s eyebrows knitted together, his eyes filled with concern. “Yancy’s… outburst last night has already made it to the headlines. That guy he threatened? He wasn’t just any rich dude. He’s in the running for Mayor of Los Angeles.”
A breath hitched in your throat. You tore your eyes away from Mark, but he could sense your shock.
“Look, Zero… how much do you trust this guy, for real? He’s been in prison for a long time, and you barely know him.”
Blood boiling, you stopped in your tracks and pointed a finger at him.
“Yeah? Well I thought I knew you, Mark. And then you left me in prison. So forgive me if I put my trust in someone who showed me a degree of kindness while I was having probably the worst day of my life.”
Mark’s voice was desperate and his words pleading as he spoke again. “Please, I wasn’t gonna leave you, I swear it. I-”
Mark stopped, snapping his head to the side. You followed his gaze, your breath stopping.
Footsteps.
“Shit.” Your head flitted around as panic started to bubble in your stomach. What the hell were you going to do? There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, just a long, empty hallway–
Or so you thought, until Mark grabbed your hand and pulled you towards a door just ahead.
“In here” he whispered, closing his hand around the doorknob and stepping in without even looking. He pulled you in with him before you could protest, closing the door behind you both.
Wherever you were, the space was uncomfortably small. What felt like a metal frame was pressing uncomfortably into your back, and something on it rattled as you adjusted your footing. From the front, you could feel Mark’s chest was pressed flush against yours. You felt the rhythm of his breathing as he inhaled and exhaled, the warmth of his breath tickling your face.
A storage closet. Of course.
The two of you stayed deathly silent as the footsteps passed, the air between you growing hotter by the second with tension. It occurred to you that you probably hadn’t been this close to Mark since the night he fixed your bandages in prison. You were grateful for the darkness as your face grew hot from the memory, the only light a thin strip from underneath the door.
Time seemed to have slowed down, but eventually, you and Mark relaxed as the footsteps grew faint, and eventually silent.
You cleared your throat. “Let’s get moving.”
You tried to reach for the door, but you felt Mark’s hand on your shoulder, gentle but unwavering.
“Wait, Zero, please. We need to talk.”
The radio crackled from his back pocket. “Hey, where are yous? I’m right above where we need-”
Mark grumbled and shuffled. In the darkness, you could just make out as he pulled the radio from his back pocket. With a resounding click, Yancy’s voice disappeared, and you realised he’d turned the radio off.
“What the hell, Mark?”
Mark sighed. “Look, Zero… I don’t know what I can say or do right now to make you believe me, but… I swear I wasn’t going to leave you in that prison. I care about you… so much.”
His voice wavered at the end of his sentence. Your breath halted, mouth running dry. You let him continue.
“And… and that’s why I’m really not sure about Yancy. I know you trust him and I trust you, but… there’s something… off about all of this.”
You were about to protest, but Mark continued.
“When I said I was reading the news about the guy he threatened, the article was saying that… Yancy had a striking resemblance to one of the Cleveland Killers.”
You blinked in bewilderment. “The what?”
Mark sped up. “A brother-sister duo about ten years ago, they were all over every news station in Ohio for petty crimes. They called them the Cleveland Crooks, until they… they took it one step further and killed their parents. They got rebranded the Cleveland Killers. They hit the road for thousands of miles, cops never caught the sister, but the brother was locked away. And now… with that news article, they’re starting to get a lot of attention all over again. People are starting to think he broke out.”
You swallowed as you tried to process all of this information, head spinning, but that wasn’t the Yancy you knew.
“Mark, I told you. Yancy didn’t kill his parents. He told me that himself. Sure, he could’ve been lying, but the look on his face when he told me… it wasn’t a lie. You might’ve known that if you were there.” You cast a stern look at his silhouette.
“I know, I know, but… look, let’s say he didn’t do it-”
“He didn’t.”
Mark sighed through his nostrils. “Okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that people are gonna be on the look out for him! I don’t want you to get put in danger for trying to protect him.”
“Well he’s done a pretty good job of protecting me so far.”
“And I haven’t?”
His retort caught you off guard, and you could sense his eyes boring into yours in the darkness. Your stomach swirled with confusion and unresolved feelings.
“I know I should’ve been more careful in the museum. I was just getting carried away because it was your first heist and I wanted you to enjoy it. I love spending time with you. And I know I lost your trust while you were in prison. But please… let’s call a truce on that for now until I can prove to you that I wasn’t gonna leave you there. I’m just trying to look out for you. I swear, that’s all. I just… I really care about you.”
His words trailed off at the end slightly, making your heart sink. Memories of all your shared laughter, stolen glances and lengthy handholding flitted through your mind like a film, memories you weren’t quite ready to let go of just yet. The way the sunrise made his eyes glow at the end of that long night shift together. The cheeky smiles and playful banter he tossed your way on your first heist at the museum. His gentle hand on your cheek after he helped fix your bandages.
“Okay. Truce.”
You felt Mark’s chest shrink from a relieved exhale. “Thank you.”
There was silence for a few moments as you were still pressed against one another, the tight space feeling smaller by the second. You turned your head towards the door.
“Shall we?”
“Yeah.”
Mark shuffled awkwardly towards the door, opening it a fraction and stepping out. You followed him, avoiding his gaze as he straightened his clothes and cleared his throat. He reached into his back pocket and turned the radio back on.
“Yancy?”
The radio crackled. “Hey, where youses been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, what’s with the holdup?”
“Sorry, we got sidetracked. Had to lay low for a minute.” Mark apologised as the two of you continued down the hallway, the door to the ballroom in sight. “We’re almost at the ballroom.”
“Well move your asses, I’ve just cut through and it’s clear in there. Painting’s in eyeshot.”
“Rodger that.” Mark tucked the radio back into his pocket and the two of you picked up your pace. “Damn, he was meant to meet us in the ballroom. Is it just me or is he really impatient?” He asked you with a cautious smile.
You laughed a little. “He told me he gets that from his sister.”
You closed the door to the ballroom, the West wing stretching ahead of you. It was lined with an array of precious vases, busts, and other artefacts on wooden stands. Paintings adorned the walls above them in gold, intricately carved frames. You could see Yancy not too far ahead, and you sighed in relief. As Mark shoved a chair under the door handle, you walked towards him, your anxiety dissipating for a moment now that the three of you were back together again. Yancy turned towards you as he heard your footsteps approaching, Mark trailing just behind.
“Yous made it!” He said with a grin. “Can yous believe this is worth forty-thousand? Rich people, am I right?”
You stopped to look at the painting, tilting your head sideways in curiosity. It was an abstract mixture of lines and paint splatters in a variety of colours.
“Huh. Guess money can’t buy taste,” you said flatly.
Mark and Yancy laughed, glancing briefly at one another with an abrupt stop.
“All right, let’s get to work on this… ‘art’” Mark gestured to the painting with a cocked eyebrow. “Zero, can you crack that alarm below it? Then me and Yancy can lift it off the wall.”
“On it.” You sprung into action, peering at the small white box below the frame. It was a simple pressure sensor alarm, with two wires coming out of it that disappeared behind the frame.
“All right, give me a few minutes to get this front plate off and disable the pressure sensors,” you said, turning back round to Mark and Yancy. “Do not touch it until I’m done, clear?”
A small smile appeared on the corner of Mark’s mouth at your confidence, and he nodded. Yancy nodded as well, flexing his arms. “Yous the boss, Z.”
You turned round and got to work, drowning out the world around you as you carefully pried away the front plate to expose the wires and screws underneath. Beads of sweat began to form on your forehead, and you took a deep breath.
Mark offered gentle words of encouragement from behind you. “You got this, Zero. This is child’s play for you.”
You felt heat creeping onto your face again, along with a small smile. You fished the screwdriver out of your pocket, turning the screws carefully until one wire was free.
“Halfway there,” you muttered. Your heart was racing. If you managed to pull this off, the feeling of Shark breathing down your neck each day would dissipate at last. You could finally relax, Yancy would be welcomed into the group with open arms, and all this stress would be over.
A loud bang from the hall jolted you out of your concentrated state and you dropped the screwdriver with a clatter. The three of you turned back in panic, where the chair was rattling against the door with increasing aggression.
“Shit, fuck, shit,” you hissed, hastily picking up the screwdriver with shaky hands and turning back to the alarm. Mark’s eyes were wide, Yancy looking ready to pounce.
“C’mon Z, hurry up!”
“Don’t rush me!” You hissed back, clammy palms struggling to turn the screwdriver. Your breath quickened as the banging intensified, now accompanied by the sound of someone shouting from the other side.
Mark crouched beside you, his voice soft. “There’s no time, we gotta go.”
His eyes were silently pleading with you as the panic rose into your throat in a hot, tight lump. You let him guide your hand away from the alarm as the two of you stood up together, his hand tightly grasping yours.
Yancy ran his hands through his hair, his expression wild. “All right, do we got a plan B?”
Before either of you could speak, a final crash came from the door and a single guard stumbled in, nearly losing his balance as he clutched his shoulder. He made eye contact with the three of you and scrambled for his gun.
“Hey! Freeze!”
It was all over now.
Or so you thought, until you saw Yancy raise his own tranquiliser gun towards the guard. However, you quickly realised his gun was missing an essential component.
“Yancy, no!” You leapt towards him just as the gun fired. The gunshot rang in your ears and echoed around the room louder than ever.
The guard stopped in his tracks as the shot pierced his arm. A look of confusion crossed his face and he looked back at Yancy with rage, until his expression slowly melted away and his eyes began to close.
He didn’t hit the ground straight away. You cringed as he swayed to the right, then to the left, and fell straight into one of the wooden stands holding one of the many precious artefacts. The vase on the stand hit the floor with an almighty crash, the stand collapsing to one side and hitting the next stand along… and the next… and the next.
The three of you watched in horror as the artefacts fell one by one like dominoes, each with its own spectacular noise. The show didn’t end until the final object, a white bust of President Nixon, wobbled and toppled over with an almighty, echoing thud.
Silence. Were the situation any less dire, you’d have laughed.
You cleared your throat. “Okay… someone definitely heard that. We need to leave right now.”
Mark and Yancy didn’t need to be told twice. The three of you sprinted together down the West wing, legs carrying you on instinct as faint footsteps began to follow you.
“Through here, quickly!” Yancy bolted through a door that led back to the gardens, barely stopping to hold it open as you and Mark ran as fast as you could, past the fountain, past the rose bushes, and over the fence. You heard shouting and gunfire behind you just as Mark’s car was in sight. You ducked and dove into the passenger seat, Mark and Yancy following suit. Tyre screeching filled the air as Mark yanked the steering wheel and sped back onto the road, the engine roaring as you finally caught your breath.
No one spoke for several minutes, the car filled only with heavy breaths and tension. Your mind was racing at a million miles a minute, not knowing what to do or say.
Until, you winced and clutched your side, feeling a small jolt of pain creep across your abdomen.
“Mark… pull over. I think my wound’s opened up.”
Without missing a beat, Mark pulled off the road and into a parking lot for a hiking trail. It was eerily quiet at night, moonlight shining on the lake as a gentle breeze rippled through the grass. Mercifully, there were bathrooms at the edge of the parking lot, so you made your way to them while Mark and Yancy stepped out for some air.
The wound wasn’t as bad as you’d thought – a couple of stitches had popped open, but the blood was minimal and it stopped within a few minutes of you pressing a cold paper towel onto it. Sighing gratefully, you replaced your bandage as best as you could and carefully lowered your shirt over it as you stepped out of the bathroom.
In the darkness just ahead, you heard distinct shouting and saw Mark and Yancy gesturing towards one another. You groaned as you walked closer, their argument escalating.
“If you had stopped to think for a second before tranquilising that guard, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“We didn’t have no seconds left. Besides, none of this would’ve happened if yous hadn’t forgotten to put a silencer on it!”
“Well you didn’t stick to the plan. You were meant to meet us in the ballroom, not the West wing!”
“And yous weren’t meant to get conveniently sidetracked! Don’t blame me for goin’ ahead cause you were too slow. What were yous doin’ that was so important, huh? Tryin’ to make out with Z in a storage closet?”
“Guys!”
The two of them stopped and snapped their heads towards you like deer in headlights.
“It doesn’t matter who did this or who didn’t do that, can we just stop this, please?”
Mark shook his head with a deep frown. “I’m sorry, Zero, I tried to give him a chance, but he’s been nothing but trouble since he got here. We’re lucky we made it out last night without a hitch after what he did, and now we’ve failed another heist because he was reckless.”
Yancy scoffed and puffed out his chest, still facing Mark with a venomous stare. “The way I sees it, it’s yous that’s the problem. Me and Z make a good team, we don’t need no third wheel.”
Yancy glanced at you for a second, but you were too shell shocked to respond. Mark rolled his eyes, stepping closer to Yancy.
“Oh really? So good that you didn’t stick to the plan and were trying to rush to get the alarm off? Besides, it’s not Z, it’s Zero. And I bet you don’t even know Zero’s real name.”
“Yous think you can look down on me cause I’m the newbie? Yous better back off, small city boy. You’re gettin’ real close to losin’ those pretty teeth of yours.”
Finally, your adrenaline kicked back in and you stepped between the two of them, pushing them away from one another.
“That’s enough! Look, I don’t care about whatever petty rivalry you two have going on. We failed the heist, so all three of us are screwed now. We need to have each other’s backs, so let’s not make things worse by falling apart.”
There was silence for a few seconds, both of them looking away. From guilt or anger, you couldn’t quite tell.
Until Yancy scoffed.
“I still ain’t the one who forgot the silencer.”
Mark laughed flatly. “Okay, that’s it.”
You backed away as they resumed arguing. You kept walking away until they were out of earshot, following the hiking trail for a couple of minutes until you reached a viewing point over the lake.
You stopped, folding your arms as you stared out across the water. It was as black as the night sky above, a faint glow rippling across the surface from the moon’s reflection.
A sniff escaped, tears springing to your eyes and streaming down your face as the last few days caught up with you. Your throat released choked sobs as you thought about what laid ahead. There was no way you’d be able to get off the hook for this one. Shark had given you too many chances. She’d tear you up on the spot, then you’d be out of a job, Yancy and Mark too.
Mark and Yancy. Your stomach still swirled with confusion over your feelings for them, and you had no idea what to do about it. Mark had your back since day one, and your chemistry was hard to deny even now – but Yancy was there for you when Mark wasn’t, and he had a soft side to him you hadn’t expected. Your heart jolted as you thought about the way he danced with you the night before, and the kiss that left your head spinning – but your mind went right back to Mark in the corner of the ballroom, watching solemnly and distracting himself by making the other guests laugh with his captivating charisma.
You sobbed further, chest heaving, until you heard fast footsteps and someone shouting your name.
“There you are! Yancy and I both went off looking for you. We were worried, I thought maybe you got hurt again.”
“You seemed pretty preoccupied to me.”
Mark sighed and approached you. You ducked your head with a sniffle.
“Hey… are you crying?”
You stayed silent.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
You looked up, wiping your eyes. You glanced at Mark briefly as he reached an arm across your shoulders, his expression a mix of caution and heartbreak. You looked back out to the lake.
“We’re so screwed, aren’t we?”
Mark pulled you closer to him. “Maybe. Probably.”
You cried harder, leaning towards his chest. Mark didn’t say a word, letting you cry and putting another arm around you in a warm, enveloping hug.
“Fuck. I’m so confused, Mark.”
Mark’s chest heaved up and down with a sigh. “I know. Me too.”
“What are we gonna do?” You asked, putting your arms around his waist before you could stop yourself.
“I don’t know. Let’s just… take it one step at a time, okay? That’s all we can do right now.”
You nodded.
The two of you stood there in silence, Mark resting his head on top of yours. His embrace was warm as the night air grew colder, an icy wind whipping across the lake towards the shore.
“You wanna head back?” He asked softly.
You sniffled again, swallowing thickly as your tears died down. “In a minute.”
“Yancy will be worried.”
“I know. But I just… I just need a minute.”
You managed to hold back the two words that could change everything in an instant.
With you.
You felt Mark shuffle his head, his warmth disappearing. It reappeared seconds later in the form of a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You pushed down the feeling of your fluttering heart, but your mind had other ideas – words left your mouth before you could stop them this time.
“How do you always know what to do?”
Mark chuckled slightly, the action sending rumbles through your body. “I don’t. I just know you.”
The simplicity of his words threw you off, and you looked up at him in surprise. Despite the darkness, you could see the sincerity in his expression as he looked back at you with a subtle smile, his eyes glowing.
You smiled back. “Yeah.”
Before you gave in to any more intrusive thoughts, you unwound your arms from his waist and moved your head away from his chest with a quick clear of your throat. Mark avoided your gaze and looked towards the lake, scratching the back of his head. You drew in a deep breath of the cold night air and straightened your clothes out.
he's been doing real good since you "went away to space camp"❕🪐
he deserves a fan club in-universe or something. somebody score this man a broadway role. start a theatre club in the prison!! put on musicals in the yard!! NEWAYSS,, coming up on midterms but trying to squeeze in some drawings when I eek out some time to sit down with my ipad!! I'm a bit more active in the discord so join us there for some markcu chatter & events! (watch parties & stuff like that!) I hope you guys are doing well and thanks for the love on the blog while I've been gone! 💞
join the markiplier ego discord! (up to date link in pinned post!)
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I'd like to start off by apologising for my extended silence. I know I don't owe anyone an apology because I write for free and for fun, but I know a lot of people love this story and have been waiting for too long for an update. If it makes you feel better, it haunts me on a daily basis that I haven't posted an update in so long.
I don't really like to discuss my personal life too much, but I'd like to make an exception here and give a bit of context on my extended absence. I'm very fortunate to be able to say that the reasons for my absence have been largely positive, and I acknowledge that some of the things I'm about to talk about are very first-world problems.
I started writing this story in 2020. At this time, I was living with my parents after just completing a master's degree. I was desperately job searching in an economy and a world that was anything but friendly to inexperienced graduates. This story was an escape from the world at the time, and an escape from the gruelling job application process - job rejection process, more like. However, I fought tooth and nail and, eventually, I managed to get the job I'd been hoping for.
Unfortunately, about six months into working full-time (from home), the creative block began to set in. Working in the same place I used to write meant that my writing space was now associated with work. Mentally, it was difficult to switch from "work mode" to "creative mode". Furthermore, my job requires staring at a screen, and so does writing, obviously. After staring at a screen all day for work, staring at a screen all night for one of my main hobbies was the last thing I wanted to do. Work also took up a lot of my mental energy, so I had very little "juice" left at the end of the day to create from. I managed to churn out a few bits here and there, but this is where my writing began to suffer. Thanks, capitalism.
A little while later, when the world opened up, I picked up some new, active hobbies to reclaim some of my time and get me out of the house. Through one of these hobbies, I met someone who instantly struck a chord in me. We fell for one another quite quickly, but in a way that felt very natural. He treats me exceptionally well and wants to build a life with me. I've not really experienced an enthusiastic "us first" partner before, so it was an unexpected but very welcome change. Thankfully, I've been through enough therapy to quiet the gremlins in my brain that want to sabotage the good things in my life. We've both dealt with our fair share of ups and downs, and we're far from perfect, but we have a shared, peaceful life together now which feels fantastic. A lot of the extraneous issues we dealt with in the first couple of years of our relationship have lessened significantly or completely vanished, partially thanks to my next point.
Speaking of building a life, I also bought a house in this time - something I never thought I would do in this economy! It was a bit of a fixer-upper, so house renovations took over our lives for several months. It was a constant onslaught of working all day, going to the house, doing DIY for a few hours, returning home, and going to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. We did a lot of things ourselves to save on costs - wallpaper stripping, painting, taking up flooring, putting down new flooring, removing textured paint from some walls (yeah, textured paint is a thing apparently... a thing invented by the devil), and more bits that I'm probably forgetting. We managed to move in just before Christmas, still surrounded by boxes, and then came the rest of what building a home entails - buying furniture, putting it together, and, finally, the fun decorating process of putting up shelves and knickknacks so we can display our personalities and interests. It took quite a while to get our creative office space just right, but we eventually reached a point where that room was 90% complete. Now, my partner can work on his own creative projects, and I can sink my teeth into writing. I'm very fortunate to have a creative space that's now separate from my work space, unlike before.
Despite finally building a creative space I can call my own, in a home my partner and I poured blood, sweat, and tears into... I sat down and found that I couldn't write. Ironic, given my blog title, I know. I would sit at my desk feeling - and I don't use this word lightly - paralyzed. At first, I put it down to exhaustion - I spent a solid few months working full-time and using all my free hours doing house renovations, I needed to give myself a break. So that's what I did. However, I still had to work. Work was already taking up a good chunk of my time and energy, and work didn't care that I'd been doing DIY for 5+ hours every evening after the working day ended. Not to say that my colleagues weren't understanding, but the show must go on nonetheless.
Even once the exhaustion eased off a little, work did not. The exhaustion came back - it was more mental tiredness than anything, mixed with a lack of enjoyment/fulfilment in my daily work tasks. We'd finally gotten into a bit of a routine with our new lives, but I slowly started to realise something that was, quite honestly, pretty devastating. This job, the job that I wanted, that I fought like hell to get, that helped pay for the life I'd been building, was not for me anymore.
Enter burnout. Enter crippling guilt, depression, and a lot of tears.
To say it sucks when you realise the thing you fought relentlessly to get is now the thing causing you to feel miserable is an understatement, to say the least. Alas, work must persist because we have bills to pay. I was able to cut down my working hours a little bit to claim some of my time back, but the creative paralysis is still there a lot of the time.
Then, this morning, in a moment of uncanny timing, I woke up to this lovely comment on my fic:
This definitely made my day and it's given me a lot to think about, so thank you to the person who left this comment. If you have Tumblr and you happen to see this post, I hope you know how much this comment means to me. If not, I replied to this comment on AO3 as well to show my appreciation. Thank you, really.
While I'm not making any promises for a splurge of updates anytime soon, I do know that going forward, I need to hold myself accountable and set boundaries for my creative time. Not only for the benefit of this story, but for ALL of my hobbies, and for my mental health, too. Work has taken over too much of my life and headspace in recent years, and it's sapped me of time and energy to do what makes me feel alive. Whilst some may say "welcome to adulthood", to those people I say "who says you can't have fun just because you have to work?" I refuse to continue feeling like a shell of who I once was.
It's not going to be easy, but I'm willing to put the work in. As much as I believe you can't force creativity, the lack of creativity in my life recently means that I can't sit idly and expect the muses to come knocking on my door - I need to go to them and hang out for a bit. I could probably also do with getting my ADHD medicated, but that's a story for another day.
The rise of AI is another thing that's been adding to the creative paralysis for me, to be honest. No one wants their work churned into a machine and spat out as a husk of its former self. It's made me want to not share my work anymore out of fear, even though I'm by no means in the big leagues. I know this fear is being felt across other mediums, too - mainly for artists - and it's horrible to see it all unfold in real-time. But I'm going to do my best to push through this fear. Depriving myself of the joy of creating and sharing my creations only hurts me, in the end. The problems of capitalist greed and AI is not something I'll be able to solve alone, so I may as well do what makes me happy in the meantime.
I'll stop there for now or I'll be here all day. But yeah. Thanks for reading, if you've gotten this far. I may not be able to change the world on my own, but I can change my world in the meantime.
"It gets easier. Every day, it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day, that's the hard part. But it does get easier." - Bojack Horseman
Just to clarify: I'm still around, and I have every intention of finishing YM&Y, creativity has just taken a bit of a backseat lately and I needed a break. Thanks again for all your patience, everyone!
I became aware of this website today and had some fun with it:
I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, it was a lot of fun to write! I'm still in the drafting stages of chapter 16, but for now, I hope these incorrect quotes keep you entertained! Thanks for your patience!
"i could fix him" yeah? well i could accept him as he is. you don't like the murder? grow up. the atrocities are part of him and ive decided they're funny
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I became aware of this website today and had some fun with it:
I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, it was a lot of fun to write! I'm still in the drafting stages of chapter 16, but for now, I hope these incorrect quotes keep you entertained! Thanks for your patience!
I became aware of this website today and had some fun with it:
I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, it was a lot of fun to write! I'm still in the drafting stages of chapter 16, but for now, I hope these incorrect quotes keep you entertained! Thanks for your patience!
