Willow!

For the ao3 wrapped meme.

How many words have you written this year?

This feels targeted. Five hundred sixteen thousand two hundred and ninety five (516,295)

2. How many works did you publish this year?

Thirty-one? Somehow? Seems like a fake number. Must be fake.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

From this year? Fic wise that would be A Perfectly Romantic Getaway because I feel like I did really well with the challenge of writing a genre fic homage with so many OC's which I usually avoid. I really was proud of that.

Raylan had held out his right hand, palm up in offering, and Boyd had cut him - a single slash across, diagonal. It had hurt, but Raylan was no stranger to pain. He had already broken his arm the Spring before, and dislocated his shoulder bare months prior.

(Arlo had twisted his arm up behind his back in the former case, and thrown him into a wall in the latter)

Boyd handed him the knife then, and Raylan had cut him in return. And then they’d clasped hands, like a strange handshake, and something - shifted.

They didn’t talk about it. They had simply pulled their hands away from each other, after a moment, and kept walking in the heat for a while. Raylan wrapped his hand with a handkerchief. Boyd let his own drip blood onto the grass. 

Years later, Raylan would find himself questioning if that day had even happened at all, or if he had dreamt it. But then, if he had, he would have had to have dreamt a lot of other things too.

Raylan had held out his right hand, palm up in offering, and Boyd had cut him - a single slash across, diagonal. It had hurt, but Raylan was no stranger to pain. He had already broken his arm the Spring before, and dislocated his shoulder bare months prior. (Arlo had twisted his arm up behind his back in the former case, and thrown him into a wall in the latter)

I really wanted to emphasize how young Raylan is when the violence Arlo perpetrates against him starts. I used the term 'offering' here in reference to Raylan's hand to kind of illustrate that they may have no idea what they're doing but they are doing it willingly, and they do know something about it - they're treating it with solemnity that doesn't match their age. these are kids older than their years performing a ritual that's very childlike, but they're treating it with the intensity that characterizes so much of their later relationship.

Boyd handed him the knife then, and Raylan had cut him in return. And then they’d clasped hands, like a strange handshake, and something - shifted.

Wordless equalization! Bodily contact that's not really a thing for children! The internal sense that these boys have, as children of the hills, that they've accomplished something.

They didn’t talk about it. They had simply pulled their hands away from each other, after a moment, and kept walking in the heat for a while. Raylan wrapped his hand with a handkerchief. Boyd let his own drip blood onto the grass. 

Their different reactions to their injuries comes from their respective home environments. Boyd's family won't care - Frances will even if Arlo doesn't. So Raylan makes an attempt to look after it himself. This kind of attitude towards their wounds reverses later in life - Raylan gets really careless, Boyd gets fastidious.

Years later, Raylan would find himself questioning if that day had even happened at all, or if he had dreamt it. But then, if he had, he would have had to have dreamt a lot of other things too.

I genuinely don't know how to answer this because you've described a very deep and visceral turn off for me, somehow

and YET.