Since when did we start charging money on patreon for fanfics 😭😭😭😭 is this for real😭
hi, love. I haven't seen that many people doing the Patreon thing when it comes to fanfic, but it's pretty common for people who draw for example to set up a Patreon. I believe that everyone who does, just like myself, needs the money. I wouldn't be doing it if i didn't need to. I figured the Patreon setup was the best idea since it's not really that common for people to tip writers, we've been struggling with getting reblogs and comments, so you can imagine.
Right now, I'm applying and doing tests to get an internship, which still won't be enough because I'm also trying to apply for a master's. So, yeah, I'm really thankful for everyone who tipped me on ko-fi and subscribed to my Patreon, last month my savings were over, and the Patreon money was what helped me pay for some medical stuff I needed (Idk if you saw the whole mick schumacher's sick club, but yeah — huge thank you for everyone who subscribed/donated btw).
We often see fic writers as little robots who don't eat, drink, or sleep. We request stuff, and expect an instant reply, and when we get the content we don't even go back to the page to tell the writer our thoughts. We don't reblog, nor leave comments, but still, we expect them to keep writing and keep sharing everything as if it didn't take hours, sometimes days to come up with a 1k piece polished to what we think readers will like best. I hope I don't sound rude, I'm just trying to make a point because I'm tired of seeing writers deactivating, tired of seeing my friends getting writer's block and then people still demanding things.
On top of that, I'm still posting a lot here, from smau to blubs and long fic requests (and I won't even talk about how some pieces aren't even getting a hundred notes, which always makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong, if my writing is bad, or if there's anything that I could do to make the reader's experience more enjoyable), and it takes a lot of time, it's even harder to balance the two profiles now, but still, I keep sharing some of my work for free. so please, please, don't make me feel bad about needing money. thanks ❤️.
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Careful Girl
(AO3 link is here.)
Every day, Josephine’s internal alarm clock wakes her up at six o’ clock. Monday through Friday, and on the occasional Saturday. Josephine sets her actual alarm clock set up to wake her up ten minutes after six as a failsafe, though she always wakes up before it gets the chance to do so. On Sundays, and the occasional Saturday, Josephine turns off her alarm clock to catch some extra sleep. However, her body gotten use to waking up early, so Josephine never gets the chance to do so.
It's rare for Josephine to find herself waking up before six o’ clock. This Saturday though, Josephine found herself waking up at four-thirty with an empty stomach that couldn’t be ignore. What does someone do regarding an empty stomach?
Get something to eat, of course, and Josephine is doing just that. Josephine is quietly traversing the hallways to get to the kitchen. Most of the adults stationed at the City’s Headquarter arrive at six o’ clock. Some though, like the cafeteria staff, tend to arrive between five and five-thirty to prepare breakfast, before moving onto lunch and dinner.
As Josephine makes one more turn, she thinks about what snack she’ll be making. She thinks about two slices of toast rubbed over by tomatoes, drizzle it with olive oil, sprinkle on some salt and pepper, and top off with anchovies. It’s a snack Josephine can somewhat recall her mother making, sometimes without the anchovies when guests arrived to their home.
Josephine really likes it with the anchovies.
Josephine continues to walk down the hallway that will lead to the kitchen directly, she plans on also stealing a few dried fruit packets for Olivia, her dormmate. Olivia, unlike Josephine, never got her weekend free time privileges for the week. That means Olivia, like several other students, has to attend the full half-school day.
Weekend free time privileges determines if a student will get out of the half-school day early, or get the whole day off. Losing those privileges is different than never getting them. Losing them means having to attend a regular full day of school and getting assigned extra homework. Never getting them means you endure the regular half-school day.
Josephine is lucky with her privileges, for she always gets the whole day off. Olivia normally gets the same deal too. At least until this week. Josephine as such plans on stealing Olivia the dried fruit packets, for lunch is pushed back from twelve to one on Saturdays.
“Maybe I’ll get Olivia the dried fruit packets with the cantaloupe,” says Josephine, opening one the metal double doors to the kitchen. “Olivia loves cantaloupe. But would she—”
Josephine finds herself going quiet upon entering the kitchen, with the onset of panic rising through her body. There in the kitchen, is Hector A. (full surname unknown), and Isaac ‘Ike’ Anwhistle. Ike is standing right beside the counter, holding a bag of open tortilla chips. He’s mid-way pouring them into one of two bowls meant for soup.
Hector is also standing right beside the counter. Hector however, is holding a sharp metal knife, hovering it over a big circular block of white cheese. He’s holding a sharp metal knife even she can’t use, despite being thirteen-years-old and thus moved on from children’s cooking tools.
“Put. The knife. Down.” Josephine speaks with clear emphasis on what she wants Hector to do.
Hector does just that. He puts the knife down on the counter, though he doesn’t look happy about it. Ike however, is oblivious to Hector’s dismay, as well as Josephine’s own worry and frustration. Ike stops his pouring and smiles and wave at her.
“Good morning, Josephine! It’s good to see you awake!” Ike briefly glances at the soup bowls and then back at her. “Would you like some bootleg chilaquiles for breakfast?”
Josephine blinks a few times. “…Bootleg chilaquiles?”
“Yes! Bootleg chilaquiles!” Ike shakes his head as he speaks, still smiling. “Do you know what chilaquiles is?”
“No.”
“Chilaquiles is a Mexican breakfast dish that is made from corn tortillas cut into quarters and then fried or baked,” says Hector. “It’s then poured over by green or red sauce, depending on the person’s preference, and topped over with crema, queso fresco, sliced onion, and avocado slices. You can also put an egg or shredded chicken over it, if you want.”
“You’re using tortilla chips though,” replies Josephine.
“That’s why it’s bootleg chilaquiles, Josephine!” Ike continues to pour the bag of tortilla chips into the soup bowl, before moving onto the second bowl. “Hector and I can’t use the stove and fry anything, and we don’t know how to work an oven. We discovered that tortilla chips make a good substitute!”
“You know you’re using bootleg wrong, right?”
“Oh yes,” answers Ike, nodding his head. “I just think it has a nice sound to it.”
Josephine couldn’t help but nod her head in agreement. “It does, actually. Well, I’m glad to know you’re not using the stove or oven for your bootleg chilaquiles, but I’m still concern. Hector was cutting into cheese with a sharp metal knife meant for adults. Why not use pre-shredded mozzarella, or any other pre-shredded cheese available? It’s better than shredding your own with a hand grater and risk cutting your fingers.”
“This isn’t the first time I used an adult knife in preparing food,” says Hector, picking up the knife once again. He then carefully cuts into the block of cheese, cutting out three wedges of uneven proportions. “And pre-shredded mozzarella, and any other pre-shredded cheese for that matter, doesn’t taste the same as using queso fresco. Using the real thing is more better.”
“You mean ‘much better’ Hector,” corrects Josephine, now curious about the block of cheese itself. “Are you saying that is queso fresco?”
“It is!” Ike sets down the bag of tortilla chips onto the counter —behind the bowls — and grabs a nearby paper towel roll. He tears off a sheet, and walks over to Hector, picking up the biggest wedge out of the three. Ike then walks over to Josephine, and gives her it.
“You should try it,” says Ike, “at least once.”
Josephine stares at the white wedge of cheese in the paper towel, then at Ike, and then back at the cheese again. Josephine soon shrugs her shoulders, and quickly pops the whole wedge into her mouth. It’s a big wedge, but it’s one she can eat in one bite and in a few chews.
The cheese, like many other cheeses kept in the refrigerator, is cold. The cheese is also soft and moist. It’s soft and moist unlike any other cheese Josephine ate before. To say it melts in her mouth is wrong, but Josephine thinks there’s a crumbly texture to it that makes it seems it’s melting in her mouth. She chews a bit more, and then swallow the cheese. Josephine now understands why Hector would want to use queso fresco instead of pre-shredded cheeses.
“That is pretty good cheese,” says Josephine. “Where you get it from? I doubt the City’s Headquarters would have queso fresco as an ingredient on hand.”
“Not typically,” answers Hector. “Headquarters also doesn’t have tortilla chips lying around either, as well as salsas. The meeting the adults had last week in auditorium apparently served food though. Food offered at the meeting included tortilla chips, salsas, and queso fresco. I suspect the last one was used for a cheese platter of sorts.”
“So, Josephine,” says Ike. “Do you want some bootleg chilaquiles?”
“I don’t see the harm of trying it,” says Josephine. “It’s not every day you get to try something new to eat.”
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