ExtremeSaucicity: So Miss-Rainy-Skies and I decided to team up and write a fic together. And I wish I could say it's been a pleasure working with such a great author. I mean, she did write Damage Control, the fandom's most beloved fic. Unfortunately, I cannot say a single nice thing about her. Working with her these past few weeks have been awful.
I bet you're sitting there in shock, wondering how on earth I could possibly say such a thing, right? Here, let me explain to you what I mean.
I'll finish writing a scene or a part, having slaved over it day and night. And when I can finally sit back and think to myself, "Oh, wow, that doesn't majorly suck Poseiden's salty bumhole," I'll go ahead and email it to her, praying desperately for her approval.
And then when she okays it, she'll email me back with a snippet of her own, saying, "Oh, hey. This fell out of my butt."
AND IT IS ALWAYS FLAWLESS. EVERY. SINGLE. FUCK. ING. TIME. IT MAKES ME DIE FROM FEELING FEELINGS AND I JUST CURL UP INTO A FEELSBALL AND COMPLAIN ABOUT MY FEELSGUT HAVING BEEN PUNCHED REPEATEDLY WITH HER WORDS.
So yeah, if you want to be a functional human being, don't work with Miss-Rainy-Skies. She makes you feel things.
Miss-Rainy-Skies: Okay, you see all of that up there? It is BS. Pure BS, my friends.
It hasn't been exactly fun for me working with her either. I'm getting texts from her EVERYDAY about these perfect little ideas for these perfect little plot twists for these perfectly panned out characters. And she's all encouraging with comments such as, "Send me your stuff too! I wanna hear your ideas!" and I'm bowing my head down in shame, because all I've got are these chicken scratches slash prop circle lines scribbled in my notebook.
And when she sends me her writing it's attached with even more utterly flawless ideas about the setting and the future of the fic, and then I'm forced to come up with a sane response to her sheer perfection.
Just like what happens when she talks about the future of her fics. She's got these well rounded snippets oozing in faultlessness. I'm just sitting there like a dumb sack of blinking potatoes, while she showers me with her inspirational vomit.
And you guys are all thinking, "Wow, they're so nice to each other with all the subtle compliments they're giving each other." Well, no. I'm dead serious. She drives me up a fucking wall.
She's the reason I cry myself to sleep.