#steph:writes

[omkdear]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65174422/chapters/204086681 We've updated kiddos! And it's a big one. Hope y'all think it was worth the wait. Special thanks to @hpysprkl as always and @taffingtons for coming back for more punishment to beta this monster. And for the folks who read/left such nice comments on my prior chapters, I appreciate you more than words.

[omkdear]

Finished my series cover finally (a month late it's fine lmao) still working on the first books cover, too. Much love, supreme adoration and eternally indebted to @hpysprkl for making this piece better by redoing my shitty text for the title.

BEYOND THE GATHERING SHADOW A Fallout 4 Pre-War Trilogy

In the twilight of 2070s America—where nostalgia is weaponized, institutions are crumbling, and resistance feels like a losing game—ADA Georgia Ambrose and Detective Nick Valentine are assigned to dismantle Eddie Winter’s empire. But the deeper they go, the more they uncover: not just corruption, but complicity. Not just enemies, but echoes.

Their investigation becomes a reckoning—with the government, with history, and with themselves. As war draws closer, so does the quiet, inevitable gravity between them.

This slow-burn, character-driven series follows Nick and George through three acts of an uncloseable case:

• Winter’s Grip – As Operation Winter’s End begins, Nick and George navigate professional tension, personal demons, and a conspiracy deeper than either imagined. • Beneath the Thaw – With alliances shifting and losses mounting, their relationship evolves against a backdrop of increasing danger and revelation. • The Final Harvest – In Boston’s final days, hard choices and harder truths await as the shadow of apocalypse looms ever closer.

—

This is not a story about stopping the apocalypse. It’s about what you try to save when you already know it’s too late. War never changes. But in the gathering shadow, we choose who we’ll carry—and what we leave behind.

[omkdear]

Chapter Five is finally posted! Special thanks to @hpysprkl for being the best and holding my hand when I needed it, and @taffingtons for listening to me drone on and still decide to help me beta this monster. And for the folks who read/left such nice comments on my prior chapters, you're angels <3.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[omkdear]

Much love again to @taffingtons and @hpysprkl for the beta!

[omkdear]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

New chapter of Winter’s Grip is up!

I almost died between updates, which really felt like an overdramatic method writing exercise but unfortunately was real life.

Anyway Nick is having a worse Valentine’s Day than I did, so things balance out.

[omkdear]

ty @userdogmeat for tagging me the other day! I think someone else tagged me too, but I can't remember. Most of the folks I would tag have already been tagged by others, so this is open for anyone! Post your WIPS darlings!

This is from Chapter Six of Winter's Grip. Since I'm editing (or trying), here's a little snippet :) - - - - - - -

This was what the world shrank to in weather like this—food, shelter, enough heat to keep your blood runny. A war story as old as mammals. She forced her jittering body into stillness, felt the pulse hammer in her throat and jaw as she turned back towards the diner's thoroughfare. Nick had moved to clear a path, taking bags from a couple who looked ready to cry and guiding them toward a booth, returning a dropped mitten to a toddler who'd already thrown it twice.

The hunter from before had left a slick of slush and the smell of gun oil in his wake. She tracked Nick's movements with the detached fascination of someone watching their own disaster unfold in real time—the gestures so casual, so human, it made her feel like her skin was peeling back.

Was this what it was like to be normal? To not second-guess the warmth of a stranger's hand? To just exist in a world where hands helped instead of hurt, where proximity didn't require a risk assessment, where touch was reflex instead of calculation.

She was still standing there, coffee carrier warping further, when Tisha appeared at her shoulder. “So what’s Superman’s story? What Midwest farm did they ship him in from?”

Her answering snort made Tisha’s eyebrows raise. “He’s a Chicago transplant.”

“Chicago?” Her voice was flat, disbelieving, and at least two degrees cooler. “That explains the digs, at least. Not the white knight routine.”

[omkdear]

Hi OP, if you see this, know you've powered me a few more years, thank you so fucking much. Seriously y'all, like after my dog dying, getting accused of using Ai in my art, and my dad having a tumor on his lung and today finding out that it's dangerously close to his heart (and he WAS in remission from throat cancer) I needed this. I needed this so much. From the bottom of my heart, thank you <3

[omkdear]

*if you build it they will come* as my mantra while paranoid my chapters are too long and people will get bored. But I’m not bored so I guess w/e 😆