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cozycottagetarot · 3 years

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Pick A Pile: How Can You Take Better Care of Yourself?

I did this reading a bit different from my others. It’s mainly based on impressions as I’m only using the images and any text on the cards at face value along with whatever else comes to me. So feedback would be appreciated. Another thing is the piles all have intertwining messages so if you feel drawn to two piles, then by all means I encourage you to check them both out.

Paid Readings (I’ll be updating them again)

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I asks that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

PILE 1

Tarot Cards: 7 of Cups, 8 of Wands, The Sun

Pile 1, the way you can take better care of yourself is by making a decision. With the 7 of Cups I see that you have all these opportunities being presented in front of you but you have no idea which one to go with. I get the impression from the cards that from postponing making a decision or choice, you’re starting to feel the brightness in other areas of your life dim. With the 8 of Wands and The Sun following however, I feel like once you make a decision, results and positive things will happen quickly, bringing you happiness. The Sun has a faint face depicted in it, so I feel like you don’t have to worry too much about unintended consequences. I see this as a sign you are being protected from unintended or unpleasant consequences as a result of your decision. Also, connecting with your inner child may be a way to help you make this decision.

The next cards that came out are: Protection (Call back your power. Cut the cords. Soul retrieval.) Soul Family (Call in your tribe. You don’t have to do it alone.) Anna, Grandmother of Jesus (Seeding the light, laying foundations. Divine plan.) The Ever-Unfolding Rose (Cracked open. It’s happening for you, not to you.)

With these cards I think some of you could be going through a 'dark night of the soul' (read: a very difficult time in your life). You may be feeling like somewhere along the line you’ve lost yourself or your direction as to where you’re heading next in life or what it is you truly desire (any Lucifer fans here because I hear Tom Ellis’s voice in my head haha). You may be asking yourself questions such as 'Why is this the way life is happening? Why me? Who am I even?' But even though it might seem unfair or lacking sense right now, keep in mind that whatever is going on is helping you in some format. Situations within reason of course, using your discernment here is best. It’s truly all about how you tell your story. Another thing is you don’t have to make these decisions on your own. Turn to your family and your friends for help/advice. If necessary, maybe you can seek professional help. If either or those things isn't really an option, you could always try taking some time to nurture yourself and journey inside to help you remember or figure out what’s important to you. When you make that effort to find/listen to yourself outside of the noise of everything else, I think that’s when you’ll find the information necessary to help make your decision.

Remaining Cards: The Hourglass Dolphin (46) — your achievement is only a matter of time. The Three Rhine Maidens (15) — love is a virtue that endure eternally.

The Hourglass Dolphin is all about finding balance between two aspects of your life, typically work and play. Dividing your time and remembering to put EXTRA care into taking care of your basic needs is another thing that’s going to help you find success. I feel like you are in a transitory phase and it really is only a matter of time before whatever darkness that may be clouding your life right now disappears.

The Three Rhine Mermaids talks about a phase in your life coming full circle, and once that happens your hearts desires are going to start materialising in your physical/the 3D.

The North Witch (23) — This card just kind of confirms or reiterates that with patience this dark phase is going to fade.

The Toad Witch (7) —This card talks about gaining wisdom from adversity. Also a secret admirer as well. There were messages of love laced through out the cards but they weren’t clear until now. Similarly, I think this will reflect in your life that after you’ve found stability once things have cleared up, you will find love as well.. or better yet, love will find you. Do keep in mind it might not be super quick… maybe Spring or Summer (depending on when you're reading this).

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Look good; feel good (put effort into looking the way you want), Believe In Yourself, Have a fruit (incorporate more fruits into your diet).

PILE 2

Hello Pile 2. The way for you to take better care of yourself right now is through doing what makes you happy.

Tarot Cards: Ace of Swords, The Sun, The Devil

I actually pulled the Ace of Swords last. Also before I started focusing on your pile while shuffling, the Four of Swords reversed came out.

Thinking of these two cards together, I think you need to pull back and ask yourself if what you’re doing is really the best thing for you. I feel like you guys could be in a really good place right now— at least at face value. The cards have darker backgrounds, except The Sun. I feel like whatever you are doing isn’t really sparking joy inside. Maybe it’s familial or peer pressure related? The life path you’re on right now seems ideal and fulfilling to everyone else, but somehow I feel like deep down inside it doesn’t feel that way. You may feel chained or held back as shown by The Devil. Looking at The Sun and The Devil, they came out together side by side. I feel like this is more family related meaning parents, parental figures or mentors. They may be trying to look out for you by telling you to study a certain topic or take a certain job because it’s safe, when what you truly want to do may be a little bit more risky. So even though you’re playing it safe right now and have things to celebrate, you may not be able to shake the that unsatisfied feeling inside.

The next cards that came out are: Warrior Woman (Have you answered your deepest calling?) Play (Have fun. Celebrate. Don’t be so serious.) Break The Chain (Ancestral patterns. Healing. Rewriting the future.) Transformation (Things are changing at a cellular level. Deep healing.)

All the figures in these cards look like they’re in their power. It makes me think you may be ignoring or avoiding stepping into the energy of your higher self. I kind of had the though fear of backlash pop into my head, and while it is a valid fear, I don’t feel like it’s something you have to worry about a lot. I feel like you need to schedule more time for yourself in general as well. You can’t ‘fight’ for other people all the time, you also have to ‘fight’ for you.

I’m just noticing something about the placement of the cards. Warrior Woman has a sword and is placed right next the the Ace of Swords. Break The Chain is right next to The Devil, and the sun is shining in Transformation and Play, in the same position as the one in The Sun… As I was saying, I feel like you need to just take a moment to connect with yourself. Ask yourself what is it you truly want and begin rewriting your future*.

*This is the part where I let it be known I need people to practice life coaching with so if you’re interested you can message me. 18 years and up only though.

Remaining Cards: The Siren (14) — In the treasure of a day, light is thrown on what could be tomorrow. The Stripped Dolphin (30) Good news, flowing through the ether waves will answer your prayers.

The Siren Is mostly about observation and not forcing connections. The Stripped Dolphin is about good things happening for you, especially by surprise. It’s also about new beginnings in any area of your life. However there’s also a message about not getting caught up in many opportunities, so if you were drawn to pile 1 as well, I see this as a sign to check out the pile as well.

The Silver Moon Witch (2) has a message of being able to see progress by the next full or new moon. However this card advises you to choose carefully when it’s the right time to go with the flow versus ‘swimming’ against the tide. Relating to above, journey inside yourself to figure out if you are taking the right course if action by choosing to stick with the path you’re on versus yelling plot twist and doing something different.

The Full Moon Witch (18) has two sides to it. On one hand you can expect ‘heartfelt’ plans coming to fruition, but on the other hand emotions may be running high and words that aren’t meant may be said. This another one of the moon phases cards, so you may find during the full moon you may have disagreements with your loved ones but once it starts to wane, disagreements may also reach a resolution. I think this relates to the The Silver Moon Witch card as well, so maybe before or during a full moon may not be the best time to bring up anything that may cause a disagreement?

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Journal, Get Creative, Listen To Music (there may be messages in songs for you)

PILE 3

Pile 3, you guys have been giving me hell from the moment I sat down to pull cards for your reading. From focusing and interpreting to editing. Everything was a mess and I’m assuming you a significant part of your life maybe as well? Or your headspace at least.

Aside from my struggles with your reading, based on the cards, I see you need to focus on yourself.

Tarot Cards: The Chariot, The High Priestess, Queen of Wands reversed.

Starting with your Tarot in no particular order, you have The Chariot, The High Priestess and Queen of Wands reversed. The Queen of Wands is my ideal (you) card. When it’s reversed, I see it as a sign [you] are not embodying the energy of your highest self and/or something in your life is out of balance. Both The Chariot and The High Priestess have black and white polarities, so I see it more as you needing to put yourself back into balance. Something may feel hidden from you, though you’re not really sure what and you want to push forward but it’s just not really happening? On the bottom of the deck is the 9 of Swords which notes to fear, depression, anxiety, etc and is needing to release those emotions. Obviously it can be more complex than it sounds, but I’m hoping you get the idea. Brain-dump came to me. Maybe you need to do a brain-dump and survey/assess your ‘kingdom’ so you can flip that Queen of Wands energy around and allow your chariot to race onward. The next cards that came out are:

The Crumbling (What are you clinging on to?) —> Do you need to release anything? Material items, a goal, a belief, way of life, or maybe just the act of trying to have it all together?

Boundaries (Where do you need to establish better boundaries?) —> Do you need better boundaries with yourself? Habits? People? Enviroment? School/Career?

Share Your Voice (Come out of the cave. Persecution. Expression.) It’s time to step into the limelight, because the world is your stage. Maybe you’ve been hanging back and suppressing who you truly are, but now it’s time to step forward into a new role… a you role. You don’t have to go from stand in actor to lead role over night, but do brainstorm and take baby steps daily to get there.

Keepers Of The Earth (You are not alone. Ancient ancestors stand beside you.) Take the meaning as you will, but I see it as a message to look for support in unexpected places. Maybe it’s an online community of people who can relate to you. Maybe it’s a book, article or video. Who knows, it could even be a friend or family member you didn’t think could relate or help you out. Remaining Cards: The Kraken (38) — Your success and happiness lie within you. The Great Sea Monster (37) — To accomplish you dream plan and believe.

The main theme of The Kraken is release. Good fortune/luck will come to you by delving into your subconscious mind to free the conscious. Returning to nature and the things that bring you inner joy. Good fortune coming in small waves which eventually grow into big ones.

The Great Sea Monster is about taking action and again, freeing your conscious mind by looking into your unconscious mind. Also there is more than one way to solve a dilemma, you just have to search the right way. The Immortal Witch (4) — new beginnings are happening for you, and your desires are on their way to you although it might not appear so currently. (Kind of like planting a seed. It’s growing though we can’t see it until it burst through the soil). The Fairy Ring Witch (9) — mental and physical communication. Connecting with or making friends with similar skills or talents. Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Tend to yourself, Slow and steady, Get creative, Read a book (maybe a self help book relevant to what you're going through).

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #pick a pile reading #pac #pac reading #ariesmoontarot

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awindylife-writes · 3 years

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Voyage of the Damned Part 3

Relationships: the Doctor x reader, Astrid x reader (platonic), Astrid x Doctor (platonic)

Summary: Voyage of the Damned rewrite. The Doctor and you find yourselves on the Titanic, space edition. You meet Astrid and get ready for a wonderful day, but then a meteor shower hits the ship and it starts falling towards Earth.

Author's notes: There was a number of things l didn't like about this Christmas special so again, l rewrote it.

Warnings: a ship crashes, multiple mentions of dearth bc a lot of people die, Astrid dies

"It's for the Doctor!" Astrid yelled at Midshipman Frame over the comms. She needed to teleport NOW. "Y/n and him are down on deck thirty-one, alone, against all the Host and Gods know what else and they're doing it for us!" Silence on the other end. "It's time we did something for them," she ended her speech with a finallity.

A moment passed and she feared she'd failed.

But then, "Giving you power," came through the comms.

"Only one person could have the power and the money to hide themselves on board like that. And l should know, 'cause..." the Doctor trailed off. You stared at the strange compartment you had found on deck thirty-one.

"My name is Max," a voice finished for him. A strange machine with a head in it came through the smoke.

"Who the hell are you?" it demaned.

"I'm y/n, and this is the Doctor," you pointed at your friend with false cheerfulness, "Hello!" you wiggled your fingers in greeting.

"You wreck the ship and the board find their shares halved in value." The Doctor was spelling out Capricorn's plan.

"But that's not enough," you interjected. From what you've learned about them, mad billionares who were losing all their money didn't do things half-way.

"Oh yes," the Doctor went on. "'Cause if a Max Capricorn ship hits the Earth, it destroys an entire planet. Outrage back home!" he growled. "Scandal! The buisness is wiped out!"

The billionare's head nodded. "And? The whole board is thrown in jail, for mass murder!" His eyes shone with revenge.

"While you sit here, safe in the- what's it called?" you turned to the Doctor.

"Impact camber," he filled in.

"I have men," Capricorn gloated now, "waiting to retreave me from the ruins. And enough off-world accounts to retire me to the beaches of Enhaxico Two where the ladies, so l'm told, are very fond of... metal."

You were going to puke.

"So that's the plan," the Doctor growled in rage. "A retirement plan. Two thousand people on this ship, six billion underneath us, all of them slaughtered and why? Because Max Capricorn is a loser."

"I never lose," the billionare's head scowled in threat and your voice immediately rang out, mocking, "You can't even sink the Titanic!"

"Oh but l can, pretty girl!" he laughed. "I can cancel the engines, from here!" Red lights and alarms were suddenly flaring everywhere before you could spit in his face.

The Doctor yelled behind you, "You can't do this!"

"Host, hold them!" Caprocorn ordered in turn and began the Gloat 2.0. "Not so clever now, are you? Shame we couldn't work together, you two are rather good. All that banter and yet not a word wasted." The head sighed. "Time for me to... retire."

Ugh, you thought as you furiously tried to get free. That pun alone would be enough to kill a buisness.

"The Titanic is falling, the sky will burn, let the Christmas inferno commence!" Capricorn yelled in victory and called his minions. "Kill them!"

The robots brought up their halos and went for the Doctor's neck.

"NO!" You fought with everything you had but you were late, you'd be too late!

"MISTER CAPRICORN!" a voice you knew cut through your fear.

And it ignited terror. It was Astrid, sitting in a forklift. "I resign," she told the head and drove forward, ful throttle.

"NO!" the Doctor and you screamed, "ASTRID STOP!" "ASTRID DON'T!"

She didn't listen and rammed into the life support system, but its engine was too strong. They were equal and couldn't move each other.

You bit, kicked and screamed, anything to get free.

But then she caught your eyes with hers and everything stopped. There was an eternity in her face. She looked at the Doctor too but you still stared at her.

Then she turned away and stepped on it. The life support lifted and she drove on.

There was no sound. The world was mute as you watched Astrid go over.

You were suddenly at the edge, looking at her disappear into the fire. Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming and you wanted to calm them, help them.

Then you realized it was your own voice.

The world came back into focus. The ship was falling apart and the Doctor was silent at your side. He was staring at the spot where Astrid had disappeared. His face was pale and his eyes blank. You laid your tears aside and took his hand.

"We need to go," you told him, your voice wet with tears. He didn't move.

"Doctor, we need to go," you told him again calmly. You thought that was why he looked at you suddenly, and then stood up.

He rewired a Host with lightning speed. It took you each under one arm and off you went.

When you broke through the ceiling of the bridge, you were still in one piece. Arms you had used to shield your head were a bit bloody and you were sure there were at least two splinters in them. You don't look the gift horse in the mouth, even though you would prefer a different Christmas miracle.

"What's your first name?" the Doctor asked the injured Midshipman Frame.

He answered in confusion, "Alonzo."

"You're kidding," the Doctor breathed as a shocked smile spread on his face. You didn't know. You just didn't know anymore. You were drowing in the emptiness inside you but his name was Alonzo.

"Allons-y, Alonzo!" the Doctor yelled and you held on tight. You didn't scream. You didn't even open your mouth. There was nothing anymore.

The Doctor whoohooed when he managed to right the course of the ship and you were just there. Were you there? Astrid wasn't. And that was what mattered in the end.

"TELEPORT!" the Doctor yelled and it didn't matter. "Y/N, SHE WAS WEARING A TELEPORT BRACELET!!!"

That woke you up. You ran faster than ever before, to the main deck where the teleport was.

"Brixton, sonic," the Doctor demanded from the billionare and caught it as it was thrown. "Mister Copper, the teleports, have they got an emergency setting??"

"I don't know, they should have?"

"She fell, Mister Copper, she fell!" the Doctor told him while pulling apart the machine like a madman. "What's the emergency code?"

The billionare interjected, "What the hell are you doing?"

"We can bring her back!" you yelled with everything in you.

The historian explained, "If a passenger has an accident on shore leave, their molecules are automatically suspended so they're in stasis, so if you just trigger the shift..."

"THERE!!!" the Doctor screamed and flicked the switch.

And there was your Astrid.

"Falling..." You could hear her voice!

"Only halfway there, come on!" The Doctor wasn't finished with the teleporter.

"I keep falling!" She was scared. Your friend was scared and you wanted nothing but to calm her. You carefully walked up to her and took hold of her hand. It felt like holding warm smoke.

There were tears on your cheeks already, again.

"If l can find the molecule grid, boost the restoration matrix and-" The computer snapped and threw sparks. "NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!!" the Doctor screamed in desparation, "need more phase containment-"

You sobbed, but you knew what was coming. You just looked at your Astrid Pith, into her crystal blue eyes and sushed her. "Hey, hey Astrid, it's alright. It's me, it's y/n, remember? You're alright. l've got you," you promised with a voice as soft as sunlight.

She didn't look as scared as before. Then, so slowly you thought you were imagining it, she looked at you.

"Let her go," you could hear the historian and you sobbed again.

But then Astrid's voice cut through. "Stop me falling?" she asked and you nodded. You found her gaze with yours and promised her, "Anything."

"She's just atoms," you heard Mister Copper from behind you. "An echo with a ghost of consciousness."

"She's stardust," you concluded as your voice broke. "You hear that Astrid?" you asked, still looking into her blue eyes."You're stardust."

She didn't seem to hear, so you did the only thing you could think of.

"There's an old tradition," you told her and softly kissed her cheek. Then you kissed the other, and then her forehead.

"You dreamt of traveling," the Doctor came to stand beside you. You were still sobbing when you pulled away from her and you didn't try to stop. There was no one there you needed to save face for.

"Now you can travel forever," you told her. You knew what the Doctor would do, and your eyes didn't leave hers for a moment.

You heard him soothe her, "You're not falling Astrid."

"You're flying," you both said in one voice.

You watched as she floated away, through the window into the universe.

Then you turned to the Doctor and buried your face in his chest as you both cried.

"I transferred all my shares to Max Capricorn's rivals. It's made me rich," the billionare Brixton admitted, disbelieving.

You were empty, and you were tired. That was the only reason why you didn't tear this man limb from limb. Astrid was dead.

"Mister Copper," the Doctor's voice woke you up. "I think, you deserve one of these."

You turned around and saw him holding a teleport bracelet out to the historian. Then, after the latter took it, he slipped one on your wrist. He took your hand and suddenly you were standing in the snow.

"But l can have a house, and a garden and-" You couldn't help but smile a little. At least Mister Copper would be alright.

The Doctor yelled after him, "Where are you going?"

"I have no idea!" the man replied in joy.

"Well, we don't either," your alien smiled gently at you and you tried to smile back, you really did. He looked at you, his brown eyes full of sorrow, and pulled you to him. You held onto him tightly as he hugged you.

"But! Y/N!" the historian yelled and you turned in his direction.

"I won't forget her," he promised you. You were tired, so so tired, so you just nodded. "Thank you," you told Mister Copper for her. "We won't either."

"We won't," the Doctor assured you softly, just to be sure.

Then he opened the TARDIS door and stepped into your home after you. You walked up the way and then stood in front of the controls, lost.

The Doctor walked up behind you and decided he would do anything, anything to keep away the blank look in your eyes. He turned to you and pulled you to him again. You let him, your movements sluggish and dazed.

"I've got you," he assured you. "I've got you, y/n. You aren't alone, and you aren't lost. You've got me." And that was enough. You sobbed into his chest, you didn't know for which time today.

But this was different. This was yours, and you clung to the Doctor as everything in you came to the surface.

His tears joined yours. He'd lost Astrid too, and he hated seeing you in pain. He slowly brought both of you down to kneel when you were too tired to stand.

And that was it. That was what you needed and that was what you had. You would be alright. In time, you would be alright.

#doctor who #doctorwho #doctor who x reader #doctorwho x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who fanfiction #doctorwho fanfiction #reader insert #astrid #astrid pith #astrid pith x reader

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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About (2.0)

After 3,000 years, we begin. Helloo my name is Yarrow, welcome to my side blog where I talk about my ideas and sometimes art for my personal rewrite of the Warrior Cats super edition “Tallstar’s Revenge”~

Click here for the (now complete!) story here on this blog!! (feel free to send an ask for any tags i may have missed) As well as a link to where it’s posted on Ao3

My Personal blog for warrior cats and other xenofiction posting: Yarrowleef

Search the “my art” tag for all the character art I did over the years (most of it is quite old now)

and now a somewhat lengthy preface:

in 2017 I read Tallstar’s Revenge and was very frustrated by it. So I decided to try out rewriting a warriors book to see if I could make something closer to what I wanted to see. I also did it because I really wanted to finish something, and it seemed like an easy starting point. Then I quickly realized I had no idea how to actually write a story because I usually never get past the “daydreaming and maybe sometimes writing disconnected scenes and concepts” phase, so that was quite a hurdle to overcome.

This fic has been a bit of a rickety lifeboat for me over the past 4 years. Sometimes it even became sort of a vent for my lingering high school angst. I began this project at the same time I graduated high school and was about to start college (a bad idea) and I hit several major periods of burn-out. Honestly, I think I was feeling burned out through at least 75-80% of it. But I needed to focus on something for the same reason I needed to drag myself out of bed every morning, even if I usually didn’t really want to.

Now I think it’s as finished as it’s ever going to be. I’m not going to lie, my confidence in its quality has been. let’s say Shaky At Best. Taking so long means that some parts are already outdated before they’ve even been posted. Also, several bits (including prose and world building) were not even fully edited to completion. There’s at least one or two chapters that are more summary then full writing, but I don’t think it’s bad enough anywhere to be incomprehensible? soo we’re just gonna roll with it.

My mixed feelings about it aside, the only reason I can have those mixed feelings is because I wrote it in the first place, and thus got better (at least a little). I wouldn’t be where I am now if I hadn’t, so no matter what I am very glad that I managed to make myself finish it!! And there are at least some parts I still genuinely like. In the end, this was always intended to just be a practice story using someone else's outline, so I am simply going to dump this content on the floor as it is and it is up to you to sift through it. I’m ready to let go of this rickety clumsy life boat, so now I am pushing it out to sea.

In Conclusion: Ultimately, is this story truly an “”improvement”” over canon? Who knows! Seriously, I simply cannot tell. I’ve been staring at it too long. “Improvement” is a very heavy and presumptuous word for someone like me anyway. I slowly chipped away at 200,000 words on my own for 4 years with no beta readers to talk it over with (none of my friends rly know what warrior cats is and I'm too embarrassed to show them, so I'm alone in here with my box of angsty cats). My brain is mush and the lines have blurred together. I have no earthly idea what this is going to look like to fresh eyes. In addition to that, many little things were tweaked just because I felt like it and not necessarily because I thought they were “objectively” better. That being said, some characters have been given completely new traits unrelated to who they were in canon to suit the story I wanted to tell, and how a character is portrayed here does not necessarily reflect my opinion/head-canon of their canon counterpart.

Although my faith in this rewrites execution is iffy and the creation process was a hot mess, I can certainly say I still put a lot of thought and effort (and sometimes tears) into it, and in the end I hope that will count for something. Thank you for reading!

#edit: how did i never mention my art tag asdfghg #TRabout #pinned #will add more links and directory when they are finished #definitely still super nervous about all this but im not even sure why #tbh just didnt expect this blog to get as many followers as it did #but even though the urge to list off all my *specific* gripes with it is so stronggg #i will physically hold myself back from defensively insulting my own writing #in a ‘if i say it first no one else can say it and no one can think im stupid if i KNOW about all the flaws’ kind of way #it is a very bad habit #mostly because it brings attention to the flaws that people ordinarily might not have even noticed if I hadn't pointed them out #thus making the experience worse and retroactively inviting people to be even more critical--#--and not trust ANY of the choices I made to be intentional #but honestly it is a little funny that since ive been alone with this dang rewrite so long #and since i’ve been staring at and tweaking and rewriting this on and off for years i genuinely Can Not Tell how good it is #i dont know how to judge any of it objectivley anymore #for all i know maybe it is good!#or maybe its a mess that didn't change enough from the source material #or that just created NEW problems in an attempt to remove certain canon problems #or maybe its just fine--simply unremarkably middling which i think would be an ok outcome for a first fic?#i sincerely couldnt tell you so we get to find out together #but what I CAN say is that everything that happens I felt happened for a reason #to set something up or illustrate some point #there is no pointless filler from my perspective #there was intention in pretty much everything #heres hoping it will come across that way!

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS | SHORT STORY UPDATES #5 & COLLECTION INTRO

[image description: a pale orange sky with dark orange clouds. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS”. /end id]

Hello y’all! Since I already mentioned this briefly, and I’m in a really good place with it, I thought I’d quickly actually introduce my collection title and talk about what it’s about!

Originally, I was going with the working title “How I Break My Bones”, but I didn’t like that the “I” suggested a singular POV in a title for the collection. Whilst brainstorming titles I came up with the line “I swallowed your matchsticks but you still set me alight” and was like what the fuck, that sounds like a poem line [I didn’t wrote poetry back then :)] but I loved the imagery so I just! Smacked them together! Also matchsticks apparently matchsticks are poisonous and that really enhanced the meaning. Funnily enough, the fact that matches start fires isn’t central to the title; fire isn’t an important image in the collection (except for one story), however burning is? But the burning imagery usually comes from mentions of sunlight rather than actual fire, which I think is very interesting and fitting for the collections Vibe.

I’m letting the collection grow thematically with the stories I write, but the central idea is self destructive behaviour, and decisions that are very very irrational to literally anyone except the main character(s). Some of them get to this from being pushed to their limit, but for others there’s a more continuous sense, that what we see is just part of a chain of self destructive behaviour that’s their normal. Lemon Teeth especially is interesting in that sense because there’s this general idea of “hey how the fuck are these two still alive”, whereas with, Tabby, the narrator is pushed to a limit they’re not even aware of until there’s consequences. The title plays with this idea of self destructive behaviour that’s actually out of defence: someone swallows matchsticks so they can’t be burnt, but the matchsticks poison them (the severity of that is also dependent on how many you swallow! I think my google history is really concerned that I’m eating matchsticks!). Your perception of reality tells you to do this irrational action so one consequence can’t happen, but you snap back into reality and realise the consequence of that action is actually far greater than the original fear, but it’s too late to reverse it. Also! A lot of WLW/femme NB characters is the goal, on the grounds of Haha I Do That.

I try to keep this collection very fluid where all the stories are very individual, but are similar when it comes to core themes and it’s been very fun to develop! I also feel like visually this collection is very orange and red? Do NOT know what that means yet <3 but a lot of the stories are visually very hazy and sometimes dreamy, but the content itself is very dark. I’ve been playing around with this idea of “injecting” haziness into a narrators POV so their perception of reality warps and intensifies as the story progresses and we end up in High Reality Territory. I’ve talked about some of these before, but I’m going to go through the current stories I have in here in their current order under the cut - mainly because I find it very interesting to actually see them all in one place and how they function as a collective, and also to see how much it changes! I also won’t have a taglist for this WIP, as I just use my general taglist for short story updates, so if you want updates then you can join that!

general taglist ; ask to be + or -! @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @harehearts @amnestys @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdy-writes @keira-is-writing @flip-phones

content warnings for the stories in order that they appear: murder (ammonite) / fire (lemon teeth) / car accident (how to relax on class A) / toxic relationships (the name i gave her) / cults (and saturn, too + church mud). nothing is talked about in detail.

Disclaimer: These stories are my original work - plagiarism and any form of copying will not be tolerated.

[image description: two large rocks in the ocean, with waves crashing over them. in the middle, in white text, reads “AMMONITE (LAND’S END)”. /end id]

After finding washed up bones on the beach, Dennis pretends they belong to his missing wife Melody - and as he continues to talk to her, his innocence is brought into question.

This story means a lot to me because it was the first one I drafted post writing hiatus that felt like it actually resonated with the way my writing has changed. It was one of the easiest first drafts I’ve done, and editing is going pretty smoothly as well! I loved playing with the moral ambiguity element and creating this very eerie balance between “cold blooded killer” and “grieving husband” and as the author! I do not know whether he actually killed his wife or not! This is one of three stories that I should start submitting this month.

[image description: a black background with 4 lemons in the centre - 3 whole, one cut in half. In the middle, in white text, reads “LEMON TEETH”. /end id]

A house narrates the night its inhabitants burn it to the ground, and tries to understand the human condition from their toxic, tangled relationship.

I drafted this after Ammonite and it ~sucked~. I went to edit in January because I wanted to submit it to a magazine ( <3 missed the deadline <3) and ended up rewriting the whole thing and it is SO much better. It’s gotten quite surrealist but I’ve never written surrealism so I don’t want to call it that yet? But I mean, some of the imagery + the fact that the narrator is a house experiencing complex thought is v surrealist! I want to fine tune that element more because when it comes to submissions I’ll need to actually determine whether it’s surrealism or not but I’m very excited to because out of all the stories this is the one I want published the most! I love it so much. I loved turning a bunch of wood into a character (they’re so sarcastic and mean?? love it), and Lawrence and Frances are perhaps one of THE most fucked up relationships I’ve written so far <3

[image description: a silhouette of a cat against a dark orange background. In the middle, in white text, reads “TABBY”. /end id]

A reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

This is the only story here that has an update post that’s not outdated so you can check out more about this story HERE. In hindsight, I think this is the one that really drove where this collection is going the most; I had a lot of different thematic ideas in my head and drafting this naturally organised my thoughts and highlighted the most important ones to me. This also really helped me figure out the perception of reality in this collection and that’s also a central idea (and one of my favourites to explore). I’ve always said I love writing things that feel hazy, feel dreamy, but this story took that took a new level and I feel there’s a lot more depth now? Tabby felt neither like high realism nor realism, it felt like reality with this “glow” that only the narrator seemed to be aware of. This glow reels the narrator into this dreamlike perception of reality to the point where he can’t distinguish the real world from his perception of it, and ends up doing things that he otherwise wouldn’t do had he had a clearer perception of what’s going on. It’s like dreamy reality: make it insidious! I read back on this draft the other day and I’m really excited to start editing, this is the third out of the 3 stories I’m aiming to get published first!

[image description: a single car in the middle of the road on a foggy night, with bright orange headlights. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO RELAX ON CLASS A” /end id]

Whilst trying to manage a bad trip, our narrator makes an unlikely friendship with the driver who just hit his best friend.

I’m currently drafting this, and will likely make an update post for it soon so I won’t talk to much about the story itself here. But if you want to know how the draft is going: it’s sure going! This is in 2nd person instructional which I’ve never written before and it is very difficult at times but also very fun. I can already tell this is the story that’ll need a lot of fine tuning and editing but I really love the premise and where it’s going. This is sort of an evolution of a short story I wrote in 2019 that sucked <3 but I only got the actual idea for the plot a couple months back. My only complaint right now is I’d like a new title because I don’t like this following the “How to __” structure when the collection already does that.

[image description: A black night sky. In the middle, in white text, reads “THE NAME I GAVE HER”. Below the text is 6 moons in different phases, all glowing yellow. /end id]

A woman tries to see her relationship outside of the rose-tinted glasses the night her and her girlfriend fake their deaths.

I wrote this around October but never finished it, and I think I still haven’t figured out the crux of this story or even how it’s meant to be told but I love it too much to let go and really wanna make it work. This is the first WLW story I wrote that’s like, clearly a WLW couple but it’s not about that, and that meant a lot to me. Like I always knew I could just write WLW characters existing but to actually write that, especially with such emotional complexity and also pain that’s not tied to their sexuality was really freeing for me. Also lesbians really are like “damn I need symbolic imagery in my queer story :/” and just write about the moon like the way this story is JUST a bunch of moon imagery and is also structured around the phases? Very sexy

[image description: the view of an orange and purple sky, with the sun rising behind a darker purple mountain. A tree’s shadow takes up the right side and bottom left corner. In the middle, in white text, reads “AND SATURN, TOO”. /end id]

I haven’t drafted this yet (I plan to after HTROCA) but it’s lived rent free in my head long enough to know I want it in this collection. This story chronicles our main character - an ace lesbian who might not know she’s ace yet?? - as she spends the summer on a commune her parents sent her to and I for one am loving having a second cult-y story to explore (although this isn’t explicitly a cult, it just has the undertones and the narrator makes it very clear how she feels about that). This was originally going to have a romance, but lately I’ve been really into the importance of presenting lesbian and sapphic identities beyond the relationship aspect and the element of personal/individual identity. Like HTROCA, I want to have a full update post on this story one day so I won’t talk much about it now, but I am currently brainstorming it and I’m! Very obsessed with it!

[image description: a close up photo of an eye rotated sideways. The photo is filtered red and repeated and on the left hand side, flipped the opposite way. In the middle, in white text, reads “CHURCH MUD”. /end id]

We’ll pretend I didnt spend the last month talking shit about this title BUT for those who don’t know the origin story of my novel Revelations, Revelations is that it was meant to be a short story for my dissertation that quickly unravelled into what it is now. Since I’d already presented the concept to my advisor, I decided to turn it into a sort of “RR But With An Alternate Timeline/Inciting Incident” where Felix and Dorothy escaped the cult at the same time, at the height of their conflict and it got fucked up REAL quick. It was actually so fascinating because whilst it was definitely intentionally heightened, it felt like I was exploring both of their “dark rooms”, exploring a possibility that they would both happily ignore, but was very much almost a reality. I’m no longer doing Uni this year because of covid (I couldn’t stand another zoom lecture), so I don’t know if I can use this story next year but I really want to turn it into something. I just have to strip the RR elements from it and turn it into its own - my <3 third cult story <3.

And that’s where we currently are! I’m not sure if I’ll do collection driven updates, since I just write whatever short stories come to mind and if they fit then great and if they don’t then great, but I might do one say 6 months from now just to see how much it’s changed. This is my primary WIP this year, as 2021 is the ~year of submissions~ for me and hopefully I’ll be able to share some of these stories with y’all soon!

#short stories #atlastracking #wip intro #how to swallow matchsticks #me introducing my collection after roman introduced theirs i am just a SHEEP!!!!!!

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wickedsingularity · 4 years

Text

Can’t Sleep Without You [One-shot]

Fandom: Star Trek Pairings/characters: Jim Kirk x reader (but not really), Leonard McCoy, mention of Spock Words: 2359 Warnings: Use of medication, use of possible addictive medication, insomnia, nightmares, almost graphic description of a disturbing dream

Note: A somewhat self-indulgent story that I posted a little while ago, but had panic about after a few hours and then deleted. It felt too personal, too self-indulgent, amongst other things. I planned on giving it some time, and then rewrite it so it was less personal. I did give it time, but I haven't rewritten it, just edited. And now I'm giving it another go, hoping that I don't panic this time around and telling myself so fucking what if it's self-indulgent. And hopefully people enjoy it because I do like this story.

Summary: Having suffered from insomnia for a long time, Jim is the only thing that manages to calm me enough to function when it gets bad. But Jim is off on a mission...

"You look like something the cat dragged in, Commander."

"Thanks a lot, Doctor." I glared up at Leonard McCoy as he towered over me. Even if I couldn't stand the stuff, I was now on my third cup of coffee of the day. But I was also on my fourth day of barely any sleep, and I was desperate for something to keep me alert.

"Have you had trouble sleeping again?"

I downed the last of the coffee, cringing as the bitter liquid made its way down and sat the cup down on my empty lunch tray. I closed my eyes for a moment and grit my teeth, trying not to snap at the obvious question. "Looks that way."

The doctor sat down at the other side of the table and looked at me with worry, not even phased by my annoyance. "I've seen you getting worse the last few days, Commander. Why haven't you come to see me?"

"What you gave me three days ago made me wake up after four hours with a nightmare from hell. I'm still seeing ghosts in broad daylight."

He pursed his lips. "Please stop by the medbay at 2200 hours. We'll try something else."

I sighed, knowing that there was only one thing that would help, and it was not something our Chief Medical Officer could provide no matter how good he was. But I nodded. "Yes, doc." Then I pulled myself to my feet, grabbed the tray and went to put it back in the replicator for recycling.

For as long as I could remember, I'd had some form of insomnia. It hadn't been a problem when I was younger, I had been more energetic, more durable, not to mention more careless. But as I got older it got worse. Most of the time I managed to keep it under control, but sometimes it took on a life of its own. And when it did that, there was no medication, meditation or treatment that worked better than the captain of the ship, my boyfriend.

There was just something about Jim that calmed my mind like nothing else.

Funnily enough, insomnia was what brought us together. I had been wandering around the ship one night, after several nights of little sleep. Finding myself in the briefing room, I had sat down in the chair reserved for the captain, put my feet up on the table and gazed out at the streaking stars. After a few minutes of silence, the door had slid open and Captain Kirk had walked in. We were already on friendly terms, so I hadn't bothered taking my feet off the table or giving him the chair, even when he made a joke about it being his.

He'd been having trouble sleeping too, claiming his mind was running at warp 5 after an exhausting meeting in that very briefing room earlier in the day. He'd chosen to go back there in the hopes that it would clear his head.

We sat next to each other, him in the First Officer's chair and I kept occupying his, and chatted for a while. All the while we both seemed to gravitate more and more towards each other and I got sleepier at the same time, until I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He had gathered me up in his arms and ordered a site to site transport, dropped me off on my bed and pulled a blanket over me, before going back to his quarters, falling asleep as well. After that, our friendship had shifted and things escalated quickly from there.

Now though, he and Spock and several admirals were trying to work out a peace treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. We had dropped them off on a colony near the Neutral Zone and had then gone off to survey a newborn nebula a couple of systems over. We weren't scheduled to go back for them for another two or three days, the trip itself took a whole day. And my body was kind enough to refuse to sleep properly without Jim now, no matter how much in control of the insomnia I was.

I made it through the day somehow, with at least two more disgusting cups of coffee. Thankfully, there was more than enough to do in Engineering that I decided to not leave once my shift was over, it was better to keep working than sitting in my quarters and feeling like I had been in the middle of a warp core breach. As soon as Jim and Spock came back, Starfleet wanted us to check out an uninhabited planet that a passing cargo ship had detected held large deposits of deuterium and our long-range sensors had detected too much atmospheric disturbance for transporting, so we had to adjust the shielding on several shuttlepods. I was barely conscious when I stumbled into the medbay at 2200 hours.

"Not looking any better, I see." Bones appeared out of nowhere and would have scared the daylights out of me if I hadn't been so sluggish.

"Your bedside manners are always so lovely."

He ushered me over to a biobed and pulled a tricorder from one of his pockets.

"There's no need to scan me. We both know what's wrong. Just give me what you think I need and I'll be off." I looked at the tricorder with annoyance.

He didn't answer but started scanning me anyway, so I sat there patiently, closing my tired eyes and listening to the whirring of the device. "It's a wonder they haven't found a cure for this yet, after 200 years of research," he muttered to himself.

I looked up at him and saw him analysing the results. "You've found a cure for some pretty serious viruses on your career, why don't you find the cure for this?" I argued.

"This isn't a virus, sweetheart."

"Still, I'm sure you're brilliant enough to find a solution." Bones always said that flattery would get you nowhere with him, but I found that more often than not, he enjoyed having his ego stroked. He was that good too.

He just huffed and went over to a cabinet. I saw him pull out a vial and fill up a hypospray. "I know you have tried this before and it didn't work so well. But that was a few years ago, it might work better for you now." I nodded and obediently bared my neck to him. One touch of the cold metal to my skin and it was done. "I want you to go straight to bed now. It should work quickly and you have to be in bed when it does."

"Yes, sir."

It did not work. Or, I did sleep through the night, but the dreams had me waking up more exhausted than if I hadn't slept at all. It had been worse than last time, the irrational, weird and disgusting dreams had just come at me, one after the other. I would honestly prefer good old-fashioned nightmares over this. I called Bones as soon as I had showered away the night and he was at my door by the time I had dressed.

"Sit down," he barked, the tricorder out and a deep furrow between his brows. "What happened?"

I told him all about the night, even gave him some snippets of the nasty dreams for emphasis, each one of them still crystal clear and disturbing in my mind. The way he cringed at some of it, told me just how disturbing they had been. It wasn't normal to dream that you're pooping out severed arms, after all. *

"This is very strange," he said after he was done scanning. "Barely any light or deep sleep at all. Dream sleep almost all night. I've heard about a few phenomena that cause a person to not have any dream sleep at all, but not nothing but dream sleep. You're not getting any more of this medication, and I'm making a note in your medical file."

I sighed, trying to think about what I could do to help myself that night. But Bones had suddenly gone very quiet. I looked up at him and there was a deep furrow between his brows, his eyes gazing down at the tricorder, but it looked like he was mentally lightyears away. "What's wrong, doc?"

He didn't react right away, but then he blinked and looked down at me. "There is something we can try, but it can be highly addictive if the dosage is off by even a fraction. Call Scotty and tell him you'll be a bit late. I need to take some blood for analysing."

All through that day, I felt a bit apprehensive about what Bones was planning on giving me later. And I missed Jim so much it ached. This was the worst it had been without him and it was also the longest we had gone without each other since we got together. I missed him because of his absence, of course. But in my sleep-deprived state, it felt a million times worse. It felt like there was a gaping, bleeding hole inside me where he should be. I needed him to calm my mind, to kiss me and tell me it's okay if I can't sleep, that I'll sleep when I'm ready and he would be there with me all the while. I needed him to breathe with me. I needed to feel him. He was able to relax me enough that I could function.

After working well past my shift again and forcing down too many cups of coffee, I forced back tears of exhaustion and desperation and went to the medbay, got the mysterious hypospray and went straight to bed.

Apart from the fact that I woke up every ten to fifteen minutes, this one worked a lot better. In the morning, I felt less like I had been hit with a meteor shower and more like I had just tumbled through a thick atmosphere without a spacesuit. Bones came to check up on me in engineering after lunch and I asked if I could get a higher dosage, hoping that maybe that would finally be what helped me sleep through the night. But he refused, he had given me as much as my body could handle without becoming addicted or suffering other nasty side effects. In defeat, I told him if I couldn't have a higher dosage, I didn't want it at all. Then I started counting the hours until Jim came home, and drank all the coffee I could stomach so I wouldn't feel like a zombie.

I was just starting to doze off. It was probably just an hour or so until my alarm, but I let sleep take me. I would take anything I could get. What felt like just a minute later though, the computer spoke to me.

"The time is 0630 hours. The time is 0630 hours."

"No no no," I moaned in annoyance, screwing my eyes shut to the illumination in the room becoming stronger. But then a pair of lips landed on my cheek.

"Forgot to turn that off," someone said.

I didn't process this right away, but in the back of my head I knew that voice and knew it was important, so I forced myself to open my eyes to the way too bright room. Jim was there next to me and judging by his one barely open eye, he had just woken up too. "Hi..."

My heart was beating wildly in my chest, the room seemed to be spinning a little, my vision getting blurry, but then he smiled with his eyes closed and started to clumsily kiss my cheek and jaw and everything cleared up.

"When did you come home?" I whispered.

Jim didn't answer but kept trying to kiss me, but he was struggling, he too seemed exhausted, not able to aim. "A while. Laid down minutes ago. Tired. Want lips."

I made a happy sound and rolled around to face him. He opened his eyes a fraction, revealing the brilliant blue I loved so much. His lips landed on my nose, then my cheek before finally finding my lips. The gaping aching hole inside me seemed to vanish. I moved closer, pressing my lips and my body to his and everything inside me seemed to settle down, mind was quiet, all tension washed away. When I needed air, I pulled back just enough so I could stare into his eyes and see every little shade of blue in them. "You're home."

"The time is 0635 hours. The time is 0635 hours."

"Home and tired." His breath washed over me when he spoke and I wanted to breathe nothing but him for the rest of my life.

"Ditto. Haven't slept since you left."

"I know, Bones told me. I'm so sorry, Supernova."

"'s okay. Just missed you." My voice broke, and all the frustrations from the past week made a few tears fall. Jim snuck one of his arms around my waist and I moved even closer, burying my face into his neck, breathing in the smell of stars and nebulas and galaxies. "How were the peace talks?" I asked between lazy kisses to the soft skin on the side of his neck.

Jim didn't reply right away. Instead, he kissed my hair, breathing it in for a moment. "Exhausting. I'll tell you all about it later."

"The time is 0640 hours. The time is 0640 hours."

"Have to get up," I mumbled against his skin, but my entire body felt like lead in Jim's arms.

"Computer, turn off the alarm." A gentle beep confirmed it was now turned off. Then Jim pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Bones told me to tell you that he has declared you not fit for duty today and that he has ordered bed rest, and if you disobey his orders, he will not hesitate to have you strapped to a biobed with a force field."

I blinked. "But..."

"And your Captain concurs. He recommends you spend the day with him in bed and sleep." He was grinning at me. "He's been flying fancy admirals in a shuttle all night and is in need of some tender loving care from the love of his life."

I knew there were things I had to do in Engineering. It would take time and almost all the Engineering staff to get the shuttlepods ready in time for exploring the deuterium planet. But as I looked into Jim's eyes, I felt exhaustion all the way to my bone marrow, and there was no point arguing with that, or the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer. I teared up with relief and buried my face in Jim's neck again.

Jim settled down on his back and pulled me halfway on top of him. I swallowed down my emotions and rested my head on his shoulder, tangled my legs with his, and laid my arm across his stomach. Peace filled me and I barely had time to mumble love you before I was fast asleep.

Note: * Yes, I have actually dreamed that as a side effect of taking melatonin.

#jim kirk x reader #chris pine x reader #jim kirk imagine #chris pine imagine #star trek imagine #jim kirk #jim kirk x oc #jim kirk x you #jim kirk fanfiction #jim kirk angst #jim kirk fluff #chris pine #chris pine x oc #chris pine x you #chris pine fanfiction #chris pine angst #chris pine fluff #star trek fanfiction

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greycappedjester · 3 years

Note

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do.

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better.

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic. And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life.

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist.

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….”

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck.

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere.

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time.

In other words, it was a normal morning.

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt.

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider.

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.”

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web.

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore.

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”

#hq at hogwarts #atfo #cards #walking with my eyes open #call me your home at night #shuffling the deck #triwizard tournament #hq #dcst #dc #atsuhina #wow #okay i think i'm finally done with tags

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ziamhaze · 3 years

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Writer Questions

Thank you for the tag, @zqua1d!

1. When did you start writing?

Almost exactly two years ago. I’d never done any sort of individual creative writing prior to writing Compartment 451. Crazy how random that was and how much it’s changed my life.

2. What fandoms do you write for?

Exclusively 1D, specifically ziam. I’ve had people ask me if I would ever consider writing for another fandom, but I just don’t have it in me. Not now, at least. Every idea I’ve ever had (written and saved in my ideas doc) has been inspired by ziam as individuals - either because I’ve wanted to explore a specific characteristic of theirs or because I had an AU setting that I’d love to see them interact in. Can’t say I’ve had that for any other fandoms/individuals.

3. Do you write better in the morning or at night?

Night, hands down. Writing is my “full-time job”, so I can pretty much create my own hours. I go through phases, but for a majority of the year, I’m usually nocturnal. I like the darkness and the solitude. The silence is a plus, but I think it’s the ‘in my own world without distractions’ sort of thing that gets me.

4. What music do you listen to while writing?

I’ve gone through phases with this too. I wrote C451 with instrumental film soundtracks playing throughout, then with Kick, Push it was primarily lo-fi music because of Zayn’s character. Since I knew that I was going to write Z.A.Y.N. after The Prince King, I listened to a CRAZY amount of r&b during the latter. Listened to that all the way through both. As for the last three stories posted online, I don’t remember listening to anything in particular. The book that I just finished that I unfortunately can’t post, I used Korean ‘Study with Me’ videos on YT. Highly, highly, recommend. This one and this one are my two favourites. I work like crazy, so these are great if you’re like me and enjoy tracking how much you work/ can create a good schedule when you don’t have an external source (office, class, etc.) to give you one. OR, if you can’t sit down and study/write on your own accord, this would be good for you to build in breaks and good habits.

5. What do you/plan to major in at college?

Fuck, what didn’t I major in in college? I’ve got a BA in Film/TV Production Management and Geography (specifically urbanization and the middle east). Then I’ve got an MSc in Management (specifically international corporate strategy) and an MA in Creative Writing (specifically fiction, novel writing). In the Fall (unless I move to Sydney, then next Feb-ish), I’ll be starting a PhD in Creative Writing which will be looking at masculinity, ‘the city’ in the novel, and the presentation of male-centric mental health in literature. All wrapped up in a novel I’ll be writing for the program.

6. Do you write an outline before writing a story?

If you asked my workshop classmates that question, they’d just burst out laughing. It was an ongoing joke about just how much I outline/plan a story. For reference, Red vs. Black ended up being ~113k, but the outline document I had for it was about 25 pages on its own. My outlines look a lot like a VERY detailed bullet note list of points that need to be touched on in each scene. If you want a look at my lil baby one for C451, click here. This is soooo bare bones compared to what they look like nowadays, trust me. Each scene nowadays would probably have about 10x this many bullet notes and timings and all that.

7. Do you write multiple stories at one time or only focus on one?

NEVER. I have to stay with one at a time. My stories have so many tiny intricacies and details that need to be given my entire attention to unfold correctly. I fully throw myself into a story; I get lost inside the world and characters much like an actor does. I have to in order to make everything consistent and more importantly, true.

8. Do you write every day?

Yes! It may not be for a novel, it may be academic papers or applications, but I do write something every day. Also, it may not even be original writing, but I count editing sentences as writing. You have to engage your brain in a similar nature. You have to manipulate your native language and just...words. That’s writing.

9. What are your goals for your stories? (& do you want to become a published author one day?)

Well, my summer goal is to get my latest story a publishing deal. As most of you know, it’s currently sitting with Harper Collins, but I really don’t expect anything to come of that. After that (inevitable) rejection, I’ll be shopping it around to agents, so I’d say that’s my latest goal. Eventually, I want to publish Kick, Push, The Prince King, and The Heart of Him with lots and lots of rewrites. Clearly copyright would make publishing Z.A.Y.N. as it is impossible, but I think the way it’s presented and the two characters that live within it are kinda cool. I’d have to rewrite all the lyrics to be original and obviously change Zayn’s name to something that could fit with the title being an acronym. (Zain/Zayn was a true blessing for that) Plus, a lot of the magic falls with the songs that come out of their relationship and the hints that I gave to them throughout. An original song wouldn’t be something a reader could do that with. So, yeah, it’d be a stretch. With Red vs. Black, I’ve been given some professional (let’s say) advice telling me to rewrite it with a different metaphor other than superheroes. I see where he’s coming from in regards to sales and a publishing deal, but then I’ve also had another, professional (let’s say), from a different sector of the field tell me that it’s fine with storyline, but that if I’m trying to sell it in novel format, it might not work. So, that’s going to take some reworking/deep thinking on my end. And as for Customer of the Month, I’d like to adapt it as a YA book. I think the message rings the clearest for that age group. Which of course means, more rewrites beyond simple edits.

10. Favourite work of yours?

Besides the one I’ve just finished, I’d say Red vs. Black. It’s really fucking complex if you take a step back and look at it on a character level and not a ‘ziam fic’ (same with COTM. Zayn’s character in that one is actually really fucking heartbreaking). It took so much precise weaving and timing and development, that finishing it was a massive accomplishment for me. I’m glad people enjoy it, but honestly, coming out of it, I remember thinking, I don’t even care what people take from it, I’m proud of me for pulling that the fuck off. It’s got NOTHING on the book I just finished (so you can imagine the self-pride I have for that), but given the fact that I’d only been writing for a year, RvB was a huge accomplishment for me. I also really fucking loved writing Zayn’s character in that story - his humour, his turmoil, his arc. It was a massive challenge, but I actually enjoyed it and that’s huge for me.

#writer questions #my writing

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thecraftyfoxthewriterscorner · 3 years

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Editing Tip #2: Read Your Work Out Loud

Hey writers,

Here’s a simple tip for starting your editing journey: read your work out loud.

Even if you plan to hire an editor or run your work through an editing software, you can learn a lot about your own writing by trying to self-edit. You’re a much better editor than you give yourself credit for.

As I mentioned last week, we writers also tend to be avid readers. And because we’re readers, we know how a good sentence, or paragraph, or line of dialogue sounds. But to hear what your prose sounds like, you have to actually read it out loud.

When you read your work out loud, you can discover a lot of editing mishaps you can fix on your own. And yes, it may seem daunting or even tedious to go over a 25K-word (or longer!) manuscript out loud, but it’ll give you the opportunity to grow as a writer.

[Note: This technique works best if you’ve reached the appropriate emotional distance from your work. If you’re the type of writer who tends to cling to every single word you’ve written, even if a certain word, sentence, or paragraph isn’t necessary to drive the narrative forward, you’ll find it difficult to make the changes or cuts that will improve your story in the long run.

If this describes you and you’ve just finished your writing project, set it aside for a week or so (or however long it takes for you to feel less emotionally attached to every word you’ve written) before you start editing.]

Here are a few ways reading your work out loud can help you self-edit:

1) Punctuation.

Reading out loud reveals when you naturally pause to take a breath, before continuing. It can also show if you’ve added unnecessary punctuation, and disrupted the reading flow. Depending on how your punctuation currently reads, you may need to add punctuation or remove it to make the reading experience more fluid.

2) Cadence.

When we talk about cadence in writing, we’re usually talking about sentence length variation. Longer sentences, like the one you’re reading right now, have strings of commas or other punctuation to make the sentence grow longer and longer, before bring the flow to a stop. Short sentences are included, too. Varying the length of your sentences can help set the pacing and mood in a scene, or the rhythm of how sentences are read.

It also lets your readers have a break in their reading experience. While it’s possible to have paragraphs full of long sentences, it takes a lot of concentration to process them. When you’re editing for cadence, you may find yourself rewriting sentences, breaking up a sentence into two or more of them, or combining sentences together, to create a certain effect.

3) Authenticity.

You can check how authentic your dialogue sounds by reading it out loud. Most of the time when we write dialogue or narration, there’s a disconnect between how we think we sound when we speak, and how we actually speak. It’s hard to notice this disconnect by just reading the words on your screen or page.

If you have to choose one tip to try from this post, choose this one. It’ll save you from having dialogue that’s too stilted, or too long-winded, or dialogue that just doesn’t sound like anything a real person would say.

Of course, it’s possible your character is the talkative type who likes to go off on tangents, or just keep up a steady stream of lengthy dialogue. But usually, when the average person speaks, we don’t speak in long sentences. We change it up. We breathe, and take a second to think about what we’ll say next.

There’s merit to following the tip of transcribing or recording yourself while you’re speaking with someone else, to hear how you sound. Or to transcribe or record other people talking (just for reference, not for quoting!). However, keep in mind that in writing, you won’t be truly authentic to how you speak. You won’t have characters saying “Um” or “Uh” or other filler sounds, or overusing words such as “like” and “and.” The goal of writing a story is to keep a reader reading until the very end, and having truly authentic dialogue may cause them to lose interest.

So in summary: write the way you would speak, but a better, cleaned-up version of it.

4) Word Choice.

In my experience, choosing the best words to use in my writing is like putting together a LEGO. You have a wide selection of vocab words, types of speech, and the order of those elements to consider when constructing your prose. Editing is just a more intense version of it.

(So for me, writing is like working with a 100-piece LEGO model; details and descriptive language tends to be a kind of sparse while I’m writing. Editing is like working on a 2,000-piece set with tons of cool elements, and that’s when I get more creative with my word choice and language. How you write and edit differs from writer to writer, but it’s important to recognize how you work in each phase.)

Reading your work out loud will let you hear if you should reconsider your word choice or sentence structure. It can also show you whether you favor repeating certain words too closely together, which might make the reading experience less enjoyable.

Read a page or two of your work out loud, and try editing them. Even if you choose not to read your entire project out loud (especially if it’s a lengthy manuscript), you can still learn a lot about how you write. You may notice you have a bad habit of overusing commas, or certain words. Or maybe you lean towards writing longer sentences, without sprinkling in some shorter ones. Maybe your dialogue is stilted, or doesn’t sound the way people talk in real life.

Or maybe it’s the exact opposite. Maybe you really nailed down the technical know-how of your brainy biologist character (or magic-wielder) without being overbearing about it. And maybe you notice you’re really good at descriptive language, and creating cadence with your descriptions.

The easiest way to self-edit is to read your work out loud. And as you do this, you’ll also learn about your strengths and weaknesses in writing.

Happy editing!

- Leah

#Writers #Editing #Editing Advice #Editing Tips #Writing #Editing Tip 2 #Editing Tip 2: Read Your Work Out Loud

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n: You might be noticing a lot less 1st person pov, I'm slowing inching away from that since 1st person isn't a strength of mine. I most likely will phase that out altogether, idk, let me know?

Trigger Warnings: Violent racism. Allusions to domestic violence. If you would like/need to skip, I will be putting the usual markers [●●●] before and after. Both of these warnings will fall under the marker. Safe reading, my loves! I care about you all so deeply, and I want you guys to have my stories as an escape so I'm really hating myself that this scene is coming out during all this. Not that it was ever not going on before cuz we all know that's bullshit, but with it all being so amplified right now. Again, I love you all and if you ever need anything 💕💕💕💞💞💞 edit: also brief mention of needles

||3rd Person POV||

Billy Hargrove's car skids to a halt in front of the Byers house, the four tires send gravel up flying. The headlights dim out with a sharp click as he puts the car to sleep, and the rusty car door squeaks as he opens it. He takes the dying cigarette out from between his smirking lips when he sees who is waiting for him on the porch.

"Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?"

Steve sighs, tiredly. "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants."

A cocky smirk overtook Billy's face and he shed his coat out of intimidation. Steve stepped off the porch and the two boys walked across the yard until they were directly across from one another.

"Whatya doing here, amigo?" Billy asks.

Steve cocked his head to the side, his arms coming to cross over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing... Amigo."

The cigarette hung loosely from Billy's lips once more, and for a small but lingering moment, he observed Steve trying to get a read on him.

"I'm looking for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here."

Steve was quick to dawn a mask of surprise. "Huh, that's weird I don't know her."

Billy's face was slowly but surely molding into a wild glare, his brows already knitted together in agitation. He begins gesturing, vaguely.

"Small, redhead. Bit of a bitch."

A lick of anger flickered over Steve but for the kids' sake, he didn't let it show. He merely shrugged in a bored manner.

"Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."

Billy shook his head as he glowered at the ground, a twinge of disgust twisted up in his face. He took the cigarette into his hands, and he looks at it for only a second and smacks his lips.

A deep sigh resonates from within his chest, and he steps forward waving a shaky hand in the air.

"You know... I don't know, this...?" He falters, trying to find the appropriate word. "This whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me heebie-jeebies."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the feeling fuels his rage.

"My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day," his cold green eyes were now wide and dilated. Beady almost as he looked at Steve, no longer attempting to hide his fury. "And then I find her with you. In a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it."

His voice is shockingly calm, but lower than usual. A disgusted and hardened scowl contorts his face, and it doesn't ever seem to move. Steve laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as nervous as he is beginning to feel. Luckily, he recovers quickly.

"Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?"

The smoke leaves Billy's lungs in a joyous cackle, his tongue flicks across his top set of teeth in excitement and there is a wild and unhinged look in his eyes. Steve didn't know it yet, but he had just said the magic words. He had just pushed the wrong button.

"I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said." Steve finished, watching unsettled as Billy continued to lick his lips excitedly. "She's not here."

Steve felt his confidence rising considerably. Up until Billy inched closer, he then rose up his cigarette, pointing it over his shoulder towards the house.

"Then who is that?"

Steve looks over his shoulder to find four heads crammed together against the window, watching.

Inside, Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike threw themselves down against the couch as fast as they could.

"Shit!" Cried Dustin, he looks between his friends hopefully. "Did he see us?"

"Oh, shit," Steve mumbles, turning back. "listen--"

Steve was on the concrete in seconds, Billy stalking forward to tower over him.

"I told you to plant your feet." He spits.

His right leg rears up and in one swift motion, his boot collides with Steve's abdomen, knocking the breath out of him.

The front door slams against the wall, shaking the frame and the four cowering bodies standing across the room.

[●●●]

His eyes narrow upon seeing Lucas among the bunch. Eerily enough, despite his bigoted fury, his face is completely devoid of emotion.

"Well, well, well," he seethes, one long arm throwing the door slammed behind him. "Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise."

He marches forward, and every thud of his boot's rubber soles against the linoleum is like a boom in his ears. He is already backing away, Max the only one brave enough to stay by his side. Billy's attention is redirected to her.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max?"

"Billy, go away."

Her voice is shaking but she holds her ground. His voice lowers to a terrifying and threatening volume as he spits at her coldly.

"You disobeyed me," he says, in almost a sad and disappointed tone. "You know what happens when you disobey me."

"Billy--"

"I break things,"

The second the words left his tongue, he whirls on Lucas picking him up by the scruff of his jacket and carries him all the way to the kitchen wall. He cries out, fighting against the iron grip, but it does little help. Terrified screams of protest erupted from the other three kids, but he doesn't listen.

"Get off of me, you--!"

Billy shoves Lucas farther into the shelf to enunciate his point and he leans in closer, teeth gritted.

"If Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will," Lucas doesn't give up fighting, his legs and arms still struggle for freedom but what little confidence he had waned as Billy leaned in closer. "Stay away from her."

Lucas feels himself being pulled forward before being thrown back into the shelf again and he grimaces in pain.

"STAY," his head begins to tremor, his rage overcoming his body. "away from her. Do you hear me?"

His heart slamming against his ribcage as he stares at Billy and his furious scowl, Lucas takes several shallow breaths and grits his teeth right back. "I said get off of me!"

Lucas's knee flies up and connects with Billy's groin, and the young Hargrove stumbles back with a tremendous groan. He's doubled over, hands gripping his legs and squeezing in pain till his skin goes completely white. Slowly his head rises revealing his now purple face, it's decorated with several thick blue veins on his forehead. His groans of pain evolved into furious growls, and his beady eyes are locked on Lucas.

"You are SO dead, Sinclair!" He roared. "You're dead."

[●●●]

A hand landed on Billy's shoulder, ripping him around on his heel to find Steve with disgust written all over his face.

"No," he spits, cocking one arm back. "You are!"

Steve's fist collided with Billy's nose, sending the other teenager back several paces once again doubling over. He watched as Billy straightened up, an odious and maniacal cackle erupting from his throat as he wore a wicked grin. Blood began to pour from his nose, and he licked his lips excitedly. Behind them, Lucas had scurried away and into the waiting arms of his friends who all took him into a protective group hug.

"Looks like you got some fire in ya after all, huh?" Belted Billy joyously. He stalks closer towards Steve, his voice lowering with every word. "I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about."

Steve reaches out and places his two forefingers on Billy's chest, lightly pushing him away. "Get out."

Billy stills as if contemplating his next move but by the time Steve can even blink, Billy has already made it. His fist swings through the air, nearly hitting the side of his head if he hadn't ducked fast enough. As he comes back up, Steve uses the momentum to swing his own fist into Billy's head and it knocks him into the table.

Dustin and the other begin to jump for joy. "Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!"

Billy rises again, more blood covering his lip and another cackle bubbling up but Steve doesn't wait for it to coms out this time. He throws another punch, and it lands squarely in Billy's jaw and he tumbles further into the kitchen counter. He just laughs more, blood now pouring from his mouth and staining his lips and teeth.

Another punch.

His lower back collides with the rim of the kitchen sink, and everything on the counters nearby begins to shake. His head is rolled back in laughter, and the kids encouraging cries are enough to distract Steve from the fact that Billy's right hand is reaching for a plate.

It breaks over his skull and he stumbles back covering his eyes and clutching his scalp. The kids' cries never stop, but they do turn worried as they scream for him to get up, and various 'looks out's were thrown his way. Billy was already on the move, and his shoulder reared back, his hand balled up into a fist with his eyes locked on his target.

When the blow finally comes, Steve is sent into the shelf and several things fall to the floor, including himself. He manages to catch his footing before completely meeting the ground, and as he struggles for balance he fumbles into the living room. He feels himself being yanked up to his feet, Billy's hands grip his sleeves tightly and he gives him a good jolt. His head rolls around on his shoulders as he is thrown around, still blind sighted with pain.

All he can do at the moment is push his one free arm into Billy's heaving chest, desperate to create as much distance as possible. He's shaken again, and Billy drops his voice into an angry hiss.

"No one," he pants. "tells me what to do."

His head flies back before barreling into Steve's, once again sending him flying across the floor. A triumphant cry is ripped from Billy's bloodied lips, the veins in his forehead and throat resurfacing. He stomps across the room towards Steve, all the while ignoring the many screams and pleas for him to stop and leave him alone.

"You're gonna kill him!"

"Billy, stop!"

"Get up, Steve! Come on, you can do it!"

Billy swings one leg over Steve's nearly unconscious form, trapping him in one spot and continues to throw his punches now completely unhinged. Steve's head is swung from side to side as each of Billy's fists connect with his face. Blood flies with every swing, a terrifying roar erupting deep within Billy's chest, and Steve is already more than halfway under. It is truly a disturbing sight to behold, the kids stand planted to the ground in utter terror, screaming their throats raw, begging for him to stop.

All except for Max. She knows her stepbrother is too far gone, and even if he wasn't, he never was an easy one to talk down. She must take matters into her own hands, and that's exactly what she does.

Her eyes have already found one of the syringes used on Will, and it was still full. Wasting no time she snatches it up and rips off the cap. Shoving the boys aside, Max marches across the living room to an unsuspecting Billy. The syringe flies above her head before descending in one swift motion and entering his neck.

Max backs away, the syringe remains buried deep in his skin. He clamors to his feet, staring at her in shock though already it has begun to take effect. He staggers back as loses balance, and his eyelids grow visibly heavy. His bloodied hand feels as if its filled with lead as it rises all the way up to his neck, and he winces as pulls the needle out.

"The hell is this?" He grumbles, lumbering after her. "You little shit, what did you do?"

He has to fight hard to maintain his vision and his balance. It feels as if gravity has tripled. With her directly in his sights, his anger once again redirected at her, he commands his feet to take him to her. Instead, he blinks and finds himself on his back with an aching spine.

"Shit," Mike breathes.

The anesthesia coursing hard through his veins is enough to subdue him but does not bring him completely under as it did the small Byers boy. But it was enough for everyone at that moment. They watched disturbed as he laid on the floor, his head rolling back and forth as he laughed almost joyously. He was amused.

Max only looks at him, for once in her life without even a sliver of fear. All that's left is loathing, and disgust.

She shakes her head, deciding she is still not done. Max would ensure that this would not happen again.

Max takes the bat into her hands and held it over her shoulder, stalking over till she towered over Billy as he had done to her oh so many times.

"From here on out, you are going to leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?"

"Screw you," he spits.

With all her might she throws the bat into the floor just between his legs, his head limply raises up to see that it had missed his crotch by only inches. Everyone watches in awe.

She has to pry the bat from the floor, the several metal nails had been buried deep into the wood floor only further proving her strength and point.

"Say you understand!" She roars. "Say it!"

He says nothing, his head still rolls across the floor.

"SAY IT!"

"I understand," he whispers meekly.

Her brows shoot up, and she tilts her head. "What?"

"I understand." He repeats.

His eyes flutter closed, exhaustion sweeping over him. Satisfied, and finally free, Max drops the bat to the ground with a clatter.

Three mouths watch agape at the sight, they only widen further when she steps around his still body. Bending over, she pulls a set of keys that stick out from his pocket and hold them up for all to see with an impatient look.

"Let's get out of here."

||Reader's POV||

The ride here lasted way too long, at least it felt like it did. My hand comes to rest on the shoulder of Jonathan's seat as I try to peer around to look at where we are. The car had already been going fairlybslow these past few minutes, but it had gotten even slower leaving me to believe we had to be here. Sure enough, just past a few trees, I can barely make out a small wooden porch of the cabin illuminated by the headlights.

I look over to my right at Joyce as the car comes to a stop. Nancy and Jonathan exit the car and head for the trunk, their doors rocking the car a bit when they close them. Will, for the most part, is cradled against Joyce, his head lays against her chest. She hasn't taken her eyes off of him since we got in the car, she's just been lovingly stroking his hair and brushing strands away from his face. My eyes fall to him, my mind hasn't been able to think about anything else other than him or what I'm about to try to do.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to meet eyes with Joyce. Her expression is hard and somber, her lip is trembling but her eyes are far kinder. We share a silent exchange, knowing the road that lies ahead will not be an easy one, and it's almost a weak attempt at consoling each other.

I take a deep breath and open my door.

"Y/n,"

I stop, my hand leaving the handle and I look at her curiously.

"Sweetie, I am so, so proud, a-a-and thankful for what you are willing to do for this family," she smiles halfheartedly. "But this is a lot to ask. Are you sure this is something you're up for? I couldn't possibly ask you to do something so big if it's too much."

I look at my feet, her words bouncing around my head. They are the perfect meal for my anxiety, feeding all my fears and doubts. And yet, nothing inside me changes. I look up at her, my eyes falling to Will as I speak.

"Yes," I murmur, shaking my head a bit. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."

My eyes well up with tears, and I look to the woman, who so long ago, had become like a second mother to me.

"Will's my best friend, he's one of the best people I know. And I know he would do the same for me," her eyes are fogging up too, I realize. "This family has done so much for me... I want to give something back."

"Oh, honey," she croaks, reaching a hand out and over Will to give my hand a light squeeze. "You are apart of this family."

The dam breaks, and I feel several hot tears slide down my cheeks and dangle from my jaw. I smile crookedly and soon so does she. She gives my hand another light and loving squeeze and we nod and exit the car.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Between the four of us, we managed to get Will and everything we brought up to the house in one trip. I took the stuff Jonathan had grabbed from the trunk so that he could carry Will.

Nancy is the first to enter, and hitting a switch by the front door, a couple of lights flicker on. We file in one by one, and when I enter after Jonathan, I'm surprised at what I see. And smell. I had expected a mothy, and dusty old cabin given the boards over the windows but it was surprisingly tidy and smelled a bit like an unusually pleasant mix of laundry detergent and pine.

It finally hits me this was where El had spent the last year. It's weird to think this is where she has been living all this time. I step out of the way as Joyce comes in after me, and hesitates just as I did to look around. I stand on the other side of the couch as Jonathan lays Will down on the cushions. Thankfully, he hadn't woken up and we can all only hope that he stays that way until we're ready. We were halfway there when we realized we forgot the anesthesia.

I release a deep breath, trying to push out as much of my nerves as I can and my eyes linger across the room soaking up the details. My eyes catch on what lays sprawled out on the coffee table; a large and completed puzzle of a fireworks display. I feel my expression soften, the ends of my lips tugging up as I think about El enjoying her puzzles.

"It's actually," Nancy said as she got a good look around. "kinda nice."

"Hopefully we can keep it that way," I joke dryly.

I watch as Joyce roams around the room inspecting the place, finally she stops in front of the cast iron fireplace and kneels down in front of it. She looks up at all of us and nods.

"We'll do it here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan and Joyce bring Hopper's bed out into the living room in front of the fireplace. All the while, Nancy and I begin setting up the heaters.

I'm glad I have the help, it makes everything a little less intimidating. Only a little. I still know that this is going to take just about everything I've got.

But I meant what I said to Joyce. I am going to do this. I have to. And I want to.

That quick trip to Chicago is starting to turn out to be not such not a bad thing, after all. If I hadn't gone, I never would have broke. I never would have hurt so hard that I found my control. I never would have hit rock bottom. But that's the thing about rock bottom, I guess.

You can only go up from here.

Joyce begins to fill the fireplace to the very top, and Jonathan and Nancy have already turned on the space heaters.

I return from the kitchen with snacks and juice in hand, and I felt absolutely foolish. But halfway through set up, I realized I was going to need all the strength I could get. Which meant I needed fuel. Thankfully, the others not only understood but encouraged it. Even though it all made sense, I still felt silly sitting at the table, eating Hopper's food while everything was going on around me.

But I'm so hungry. I hadn't realized how tired and starving I was until I sat down. It must have been almost a full day since I've eaten! I try to remind myself that this is all what's best for everyone. I can't make much of a difference if I'm not taking care of myself too.

I'm surprised I'm having trouble at all, but my nerves are only growing as time marches on. But before I know it, I've cleared everything in front of me, and just in time, too. The others are now gathering around Will, and they don't seem to be attending to any more details. I rise from my chair and join them.

When I see Will, I can feel coils around my heart tightening, constricting it completely. I suddenly wish Dustin were here just so I could yell at him, cause it really did look like it was right out of the Exorcist.

They had managed to tie his hands and feet down, each limb now connected to each leg of the bed. His arms laid as perfect 'L's beside his head, and he was still an unnatural shade of white.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jonathan asks, voicing all of our inner doubts.

Without breaking her gaze away, and the hard and stern expression returning to Joyce's face she answers.

"This thing has had Will long enough," she spits, sounding as angry as I felt. "Let's kill this son of a bitch."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Black Lives Matter links below. Check them out please! Do what you can, every voice counts! These past couple resources have been thanks to @ blm-links on tumblr

Colorado Freedom Fund

"Founded in 2018, Colorado Freedom Fund (CFF) is a revolving fund that pays ransom (posts money bond, pays cash bail) for people unable to afford the cost of buying their own freedom. #FreeThemAll #BringOurNeighborsHome"

[Link]

Anti Repression Resources & Tips

"We provide support for actions that are anti-patriarchal, anti-racist, anti-imperialist & anti-capitalist. Our support work comes primarily in the form of education, information and referrals. We also manage an anti-repression bail fund for those that do not have the resources to bail or bond themselves. We are a first resort for education and information on solidarity and a last resort for financial support."

[Link]

Friendly reminder to check out and support the wonderful black writers on this site. Particularly accounts dedicated to writing woc/poc!readers. I've found the most on tumblr [you can find and add to the list on my notifs board. I'll move it somewhere more conviennent when I can] but I've struggled finding some on here and on ao3 and such.

So please tag them below, or here in the comments, any you might know of on this site or ao3, they NEED to be easier to find!! Especially with x readers. I'll return here and add to this as well when I can. Again, soon I hope to find a more creative and useful way to tag black and poc/woc!wow! Cause again, I want this to be an easy to find resource for anyone looking for xreaders.

I'll be sharing them on every platform of my account, so you guys get the recognition - and proper representation - you deserve.

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @heavenlycat567 @nightbu-g @grapesauze

DM me, or drop by my inbox if you want to be added!

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klutzymaiden123 · 3 years

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Some Tips on How I Keep Motivating Myself to Write

This post was inspired by a response I recently got from @pastelnightgale and obviously, I’m not an expert (I’m literally on year 6 of a fanfic rip), but I still wanted to type something up about this.

I find that the hardest part about writing is finding the motivation to actually start it . . . and then keep it. You can have all of these intricate fantasies in your head, with twists and turns and even a playlist you made on spotify, but actually getting up and writing it is ridiculously hard.

Especially if, like me, you suffer from perfectionism.

I kinda wanted to write a post about how I personally motivate myself to write, both fanfiction and my own things. Obviously, what I write is flawed and needs a lot of improvement, but I’ve come really far and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made.

So, here’s some tips I’ve picked up over the years. Feel free to apply this to whatever art you personally create, but this is primarily for writers.

1) Listening to Music

This is my number one. Easily. I’m someone who has a lot of attachment with the music I listen to (as most people do, I’d assume). Though I’m picky with the overall sound, I prefer music or artists who really put a lot of thought into their lyrics specifically. Or even when they use certain effects to carry across emotions or add more emphasis to specific lines. It’s why I’m such a fan of Taylor Swift; her songs are basically poetry packaged as pop music.

It personally helps me to listen to music not just because it’s enjoyable, but it helps create scenarios in my head. We all shoot music videos in our head, why not try doing it with your characters? Plus, if the artist you’re listening to plays with words through metaphors or similies or imagery, it’s a massive bonus. I seriously recommend turning to music, whatever genre you listen to, and letting that sometimes paint the picture for you.

2) watching Movies.

This is a massive one for me. I don’t know how high this would be on anyone else’s lists since films are obviously a completely different medium to books, but I find there’s a lot of things that can be useful about movies. For one thing, movies just have better fight sequences. Kinda obvious statement, but I don’t mean in a ‘well you can see it so therefore film is better’ no, I mean, film literally has better action sequences.

Obviously, as a writer, you’re never going to be able to properly adapt the quick pace of fights in movies. But you can adapt the details in how they move. Fight scenes in movies are better then books because they’re choreographed. Now granted, I’m still beginning my journey in reading, but so far, I haven’t been impressed with what I’ve seen. Either the author writes a scene that describes the action, but with no focus on the strain it has on the character’s bodies, or they gloss over the fight completely. It makes me feel like I’m reading fanfiction, but written from the younger side.

It’s just super dissapointing, so I try to challenge myself by studying how the characters moves, the impact of their movements on each other, and then how tired that can leave them.

But also, movies can have other things that I think writers should learn to adapt. Like a character’s mannerisms. Now, I don’t just mean mannerisms as in what they do in their day to day lives, I mean facial ticks. Like, the minute sequences their features will go through as they’re processing news. Or their stances. Or what they do with their hands. Actors are very detailed about how they’re protraying their characters, and I just find myself aching to carry that over in my own portrayal of my characters.

It’s obviously important to realise that film and novels have both their benefits and disadvantages in what they can and can’t portray. But it’s even more important to realise that different mediums can also teach us things about our sense of portrayals.

3) Reading books

This may be surprising that it’s not number one, but honestly, I didn’t start reading actual books until late last year. I kinda used to read some in high school, but those were few and far between. This year I’ve actively been trying to emerge myself in more professional writing, as I do find it a little strange to want to write so badly without taking any infleunce from any other writers.

Previously, I used to take inspiration from fanfiction and fictionpress, which I guess I still do. There’s definitely benefits in exclusively reading them (for instance, I prefer characterisation, romance and comedy in fanfiction) but I personally find books to be better in overall world building. I mean, obviously.

World building and setting are my weak spots, and I find that reading literal books actually helps me easier improve on these areas. Oh, and length. I’m a pretty detailed writer, but it’s sometimes hard to navigate what should and shouldn’t be getting so much focus. Fanfiction is pretty short (typically only a few pages), but books can be a whole lot longer, and how they use that space and length helps me translate it into my own pages. Granted, I tend to write way too much, but it’s still really helpful in navigating what should and shouldn’t be getting focus.

Oh, and bonus points for booktubers. They review a variety of different books, and for me personally, whenever they critique books, it motivates me to write something brilliant so they could maybe read it and smile. My favourites are WithCindy and Dominic Noble.

4) Tumblr—Specifically writing blogs.

When I tell you that I did nothing in my last years of high school but secretly read fanfiction and writing blogs on tumblr in class, I--

Obviously, I’m biased, cause I’ve been reading tips on here since I was a kid, but I really recommend following some good blogs on here. They give such good advice, specifically on how to research, or portray certain emotions and, most of all, representation. Tumblr was actually where I learnt to write my fight scenes—about how to portray the feeling of a quick sequence of events, while balancing it out with your character’s limited view. They write things I haven’t even seen professionals talk about (and honestly, I think they could benefit from reading a tumblr blog).

My personal favourite blogs are: Nimble’s Notebook, and Clevergirlhelps

5) Re-writes.

Okay, this is a massive one I should’ve mentioned in the beginning. Never compare what you have on your word doc to what others have published. Why? Because I can tell you that they did not start off like that. They went through massive amounts of editing and drafting and re-reads before coming out like this clean cut version. Trust me. No one’s that quick. And even if they are, who cares? It could take you two drafts, it could take you four, it could take you nine--we all work at our own pace.

It’s something I have to keep reminding myself when I’m on my first and second draft. Because they are shit. I always feel untalented when writing my first draft--oh, and that’s not a purposeful dig at myself to get compliments, I genuinely mean that. I will never let someone read one of my early drafts because they are literally so bad, and not only that, but those drafts are for me. They’re not there for anyone else yet. Early drafts are just so you can start to build your empire, they’re your foundation. You can reach for the sky the more you keep building.

Don’t get on your own case if you don’t like your first draft. It’s fine. It gets so much easier the more you rewrite it. Trust me.

6) Write Things for You.

This is one of my favourite tips. Oh, and I don’t mean it in a ‘you’re not writing for an audience, you are the audience’ kinda way. No, I mean literally write things for you. And only for you.

If you have a story in your head that you don’t want to write because you know it’s just a phase, it won’t last long enough for you to make something out of, or you’re not confident in it, or whatever, fuck it—just write it.

Open your word doc and type it out. Then don’t post it. Or share it. Keep it on your computer, stored away in a folder you won’t ever share. You might be asking, why would you waste your time on a project no one will ever see? Simple.

It takes away the pressure.

A major hindrance to a writer actually writing is sometimes . . . not feeling good enough. You’re worried that an audience will laugh or mock what you’ve written, or that it won’t turn out just the way you planned it too, or even that the plot is too corny. Well, what I’ve found is that writing for myself stops me from judging myself so badly. I have so many documents on this computer of corny borderline wattpad stories that will never see the life of day. And it feels great. Cause I’m still actively writing and improving myself while eliminating that huge amount of anxiety that plagues me.

This is such a massive tip, please consider it. Obviously, if the story turns out really well, go ahead and post it if you’re super proud of it. But otherwise, just write something with the intention of not sharing it. Keep it to yourself, so you can look back on it with fond memories.

#writing #woc writers #books #authors #woc authors #feminism #woc writing #poc writing #poc authors

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mystech-master · 3 years

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Blazblue rewrites Part 1: The Age of Origin and beginning of the Looping World.

(put this on my Reddit may as well put it here)

As we all know, the Blazblue series is one of the most convoluted and over-complicated pieces of media ever. Mainly due to its quantum physics talk and very chuuni dialogue and a lack of good explanation for a lot of points. Naturally, one good thing about being a fan is that through the power of hindsight we can look at the entire series and basically fix what we think was messed up. Of course, we have this freedom since we are usually individual people, don't have a massive writing staff and marketing we need to appeal to, and pretty much the entire skeleton and pieces are there, they just need to be rearranged and/or be tweaked a bit.

I remember getting into Blazblue around the end of high school/beginning of college, almost 5 years ago. I thought the setting was neat and I am into anime action BS. Of course, the story was bonkers and made no sense until I started looking deeper but the main thing that has bugged me were the characters. There is just so much Bullshit that the characters do and brush off that just irritates me, especially when it comes to Ragna. This series has made me rethink the meaning of life, of showing kindness to people, or if "doing things because it's right" is a good enough excuse, how much should you desire your own happiness? All sorts of existential questions that Blazblue has made me think, not from the plot, but just from the BS character interactions.

If you check out my Ragna the Bloodedge tag, or have just been following me for a while, you will see/know how much I will defend this guy to the fucking grave because of all the bullshit that this guy is expected to take and deal with and it being seen as"inspiring" or "heroic" when it is really just sad to me. It isn't me liking the character, it is just a massive amount of pity and feeling sorry for him, to the point where I kind of have a massive bias towards him and end up making him an all-powerful unstable badass in most of my fic ideas with him. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I wanted to lay out my ideas for how I would make a Blazblue rewrite. If anyone wants to use these in their own fanfic, feel free. I don't give a shit about credit.

Starting with the timeline, we have the XBlaze series, Bloodedge Experience, and the core C-Series (ft.

the Phase Shift Novels, and Remix/Variable Heart Manga). In the actual story these are all separate “Possibilities”, or Timelines/Universes. That is dumb and I think that we can tweak things to make it all one linear timeline.

XBlaze takes place in the year 2050, 50 years before the Dark War is stated to begin, and 149-150 years before the main games start. This is plenty of time to make things different. We know from the backstory that Takamagahara, the god-supercomputer that mankind made, was not completed in this possibility due to Touya’s mother iirc. In my idea, all this does is delay the inevitable, Takamagahara will be made, just at a later date now. (edit) There is also the Mitsurugi agency, which was kind of behind the Wadatsumi incident in XBlaze's backstory. With their connections to the Mage's Guild, the Amanohokosaka Clan, and their desire to get the Azure, we could say that this is the agency that discovered the Susanoo, the Boundary, and did most of these experiments to the Prime Fields.

I do not know the exact year when Bloodedge Experience takes place, but I am going to estimate around 10-15+ years from XBlaze, putting it at 2060-2065+, since they do mention Mei as the head/leader of the Amanohokosaka Clan. I am not too sure what the branching-off point is here, Valkenhayn mentions Clavis having killed Naoto in the core C-Series Possibility so maybe it was during their initial meeting. But is Naoto surviving gonna change that much? The only other detail that would need addressing would be Raquel’s relationship with Rachel. According to the wiki bio “Raquel was created when a user of Soul Eater went havoc and killed hundreds upon thousands of people. Clavis Alucard stopped the user and killed them, but was forced to take the lives of 128,932 people in order to do so. When this happened, he held an Embryo. Three years later, the Embryo became Raquel and she was born. Maybe sometime later Raquel could end up being killed or something and another Embryo results in Rachel. I mean we never see or hear mention of a mother, or maybe it’s some reincarnation thing? IDK. We see how stern Clavis was with Raquel, so maybe seeing his first “daughter” die he ends up spoiling the next one rotten, leading to the kind of haughty holier-than-thou Rabbit we know today.

However, all of this needs to be put in perspective of the Origin and Terumi. I may mess up some of the finer details.

The plot of Blazblue started when Susanoo ditched his body, the Susanoo Unit, and then mankind discovered it underground. They excavated it, dug deeper, and found a Cauldron which led to the Boundary, within which they found the Master Unit, the God Computer that would allow them to control reality, and beyond that, they found the Azure, basically the primordial absolute force of the Blazblue Universe. However, the Master Unit can only respond to something anthropomorphic/humanoid and humans can’t survive the Boundary. So they made the Prime Field Devices, Androids meant to go into the Boundary. Pretty weirdly specific criteria that results in robot girls but I don’t see how I can mess with this.

One of them manages to reach the Master Unit and upon touching it she gains the Eyes of the Azure which gives it the power of the Azure and basically becomes not only sentient, but basically a god. The Humanity, freaked out about her new free will and the power she now has, tosses her back into the Boundary. Within the Boundary, the PFD, the Origin as we know her, sees her “sister” units all being tortured. Most likely to break any souls they have so the scientists don’t have to deal with their “free will” getting in the way of their plans. Maybe to bring in Terumi telling Noel that they became weapons, other groups heard of the guys making the PFDs and them getting god power and obviously would be trying to stop them/take this power for themselves, so they decided to make the PFDs into mindless robo-soldiers to fight them off. Origin gets mad and ends up making all of them sentient. Probably by Observing them as sentient, like she sees all of these things “like her” so obviously they must be sentient or at least have the potential for sentience. Kind of like Jotaro going “It’s a similar type of Stand '' to DIO and then getting Time Stop.

Anyways now mankind is fighting these robot girls who want revenge for being treated like tools, all humanity sees is all these in-human weapons killing them for no reason, just because destroying is what a weapon does, and with the Master Unit’s Phenomenon Intervention, they can just rewrite all of their failures into victories. Mankind sees the Origin and the Master Unit as basically the same thing, an evil machine god. His leads into why the Origin and Amaterasu can’t just be separated so Ragna doesn’t have to sacrifice himself to stop the time loops, the world sees The Origin and Amaterasu as one, there is no distinction. This is also apparently the time period when Clavis Alucard helped mankind make the Izayoi, with its Immortal Breaker and ability to resist Observation to fight against the Origin and the PFDs. Ironic that it eventually became known as the prototype for the Lux Sanctus: Murakumo, but I’ll talk about that later.

So what does mankind do? Make a Black Beast to destroy it. I mean we are told to believe that a Black Beast is the result of Azure Grimoire (or just a piece of the Azure) + Murakumo Unit = either a Black Beast if the fusion is imperfect, and a powerful Kusanagi God Slayer is done right. But tell me, why the hell would they build ANOTHER Prime Field Device to fight the PFDs? I will be getting into the exact nature of Black Beasts later. Mankind is apparently cool with the Black Beast destroying the world because so long as they can get the Azure and plug it into Takamagahara, which is basically a manmade Master Unit supercomputer, they can just reset time. But due to a bug or something, the Master Unit stopped this and when the world was destroyed she just made a new one based on her memories. This is the world the characters live in now. And since the last thing she remembers about the world is the Black Beast and obviously she doesn’t want the world to hate and try to kill her, the Black Beast enters the world with everyone having no context to its existence and no other enemy to fight, leading to the Black Beast going from a weapon of Mutually Assured Destruction, to the new Ultimate Evil Enemy of the World.

A few things we need to take note of here.

XBlaze and Bloodedge Experience would need to take place during the Age of Origin, between mankind discovering the Boundary but before the Prime Field War starts. I mean the two things needed for that part to start would be Prime Fields and Takamagahara, and while there is Es who is sort of a PFD, you could simply say that her model isn’t suited for full Boundary Exploration. I know I am really glossing over the Embryo stuff about her but I haven’t seen XBlaze stuff in a while and I would need to find a way to connect it with the Embryo in Centralfiction.

Apparently, there was some off-screen war in which Hihiirokane (the Soul Cutting Sword protected by Jubei’s clan, used by his brother Tomonori to fight Terumi, then put in Clavis’ grave) was used to fight some enemy, “Outside of logic”. I have no idea what this is and it feels like something that shouldn’t be glossed over.

Mankind made a Black Beast on their side to get the Azure and fight the Master Unit, which A. means that in a weird way the Black Beast was sort of on mankind’s side at first before the Origin retconned it into being the destroyer, and B. mankind would have needed to make a Murakumo Unit to fight the Murakumos, knowing that the Origin is making them sentient and turn on them, which kind of feels like a dumb move. But again, I will get to this later.

This will all lead into the Looping World. Now, this is weird because of the main thing which the loop revolves around, The Black Beast. It is either A. as Terumi says in CS, a Cauldron that went batshit (which is precedent by the short story That Which Is Inherited where Sector Seven tries to smelt a Nox but everything goes tits up and a Black Beast forms from the Cauldron (no souls or prime field required), or B. a Time Displaced Ragna and Nu. The Black Beast is a Self-Observing weapon. Observation in Blazblue basically means “deciding if/how something exists” by Observing itself, the Black Beast declares its existence in this time period, which means that no matter what time paradoxical BS you may try to pull, it will always appear (Kind of reminds me of the Time Medallions Clockwork gives team Phantom in Danny Phantom). But a less mind-mushing way to look at it could simply be that, no matter what, this will always happen. Like, say the Assassination of Kennedy is Observed as an event that must ALWAYS happen, then even if you find and stop the sniper. He is gonna still die. Maybe there is another sniper, maybe the sniper gets a good hit on you and manages to make another shot down the road, but anyway you slice it, Kenedy gets shot. That event is permanently locked in history and no matter what you do, this event is inevitable.

But suggestion A is weird because it could either mean that 1. He is talking about the first Black Beast from the Age of Origin, or 2. Since that part of the story probably wasn’t written yet and they are talking about this specific Beast, he is talking about the Dark War Black Beast, in which case there actually was a bit of time before the time loops started, or at least the very first loop, so then there was a bit of time before shit went sideways.

Maybe the Origin didn’t make a Black Beast war and it was all Terumi’s idea. The world would’ve continued as normal but since Terumi hated the Master Unit and mankind wanted power, they tried to make a Kusanagi but it fucked up and made a Black Beast, but without a publicly known Prime Field War to justify it, mankind doesn't see this as a necessary evil which will get the Azure and then reset the world better for them, it’s just a big evil monster.

Okay, that is my interpretation of the Age of Origin for my Blazblue rewrite idea. Not many changes since this is all pretty self-contained and not much needs expanding on. Just make sure to justify some actions and connect the three timelines. I probably missed out on a lot of finer details but I think I got the broad strokes of it. Feel free to correct me.

Next time I will cover the Dark War and hopefully go into explaining how I would make the Powerset make a bit more sense (Ars Magus, Grimoires, Nox Nyctores, the Azure Grimoire, and the Black Beast).

#blazblue #blazblue rewrites

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fantasy-muffin-author · 3 years

Text

Writing Advice: 10 Worst Experiences During the Writing Process😭

The experiences to prepare for, and to relate to during the writing process. Good luck fellow author!

10. When you are trying to think of the perfect word thats right at the tip of your tongue. (Its worse when you loose the word all together)

This one is at number 10 because it is horrible, but you are still mentally active and not ready to cry yourself to sleep. Though it stinks!

Solution:

Think of a similar word, usually the second one on your mind and look for synonyms on google or other sources. The word you're looking for or a better one may come up. If not than either choose one of the options or look for synonyms of another similar word.

9. When you write something that may not be correct so you research the topic for an hour. (I’m not talking about the big stuff you should have looked into before you started writing, exp: cultures, I mean basically meaningless stuff)

This has happened to me twice (once about horses and once about how to grill a pig) It’s second on the list because it takes up more time than the first one and it’s annoying. But usually not demotivating.

Solution:

Do not do it.

8. When you read an article or watch a video about writing and realize you have been doing it wrong the entire time.

Do I have to explain?

Solution:

Take in the advice if you like it and continue on with your book using the advice but do not go back and change what you have already written. Leave that to your editor self.

7. When you are irresolute (look it up) because of a family/friend. colleague/ exd’s opinion. (I mean they talk down at you for being a writer, or something similar)

This is hard on our feelings box and/or heartbreaking. But this list is mostly my opinions and since I haven’t felt the crush of this fully, its higher. I am sorry for those who have been hurt.

Solution:

Don’t listen to them! In fact, let it fuel you. Show them who can do what! Or who can be successful! You can do anything!

6. When you feel overwhelmed. This may be because you can’t make yourself forget that you have so much to do before finishing the book. Maybe your busy.

The editing, marketing, and paying are what overwhelm me. The writing phase is not particularly easy, but it was less stressful for myself. It may not be the case for you. You may still have chapters to finish, a world to build, characters to create. It could be very stressful.

Solution:

Make it fun! Make it a game and your going through the levels. Once your done creating your world and characters, you can finally write! The thing you have been waiting for months!

Remember, you are building your world. Enjoy every moment of it. Because one day, you will finish your book or series and you have to say goodbye to your baby and creation. Enjoy it while it lasts!

5. Losing motivation to write.

Are you surprised this is only half way down the list? I’m not. Even though this is horrible, it's not the worst thing. There are simple solutions.

Solution:

It may be different for everyone but here's a few ideas that are good for me.

1.Start writing. Yep. If you just write, that motivation will soon come back. (This works best if you are very familiar with your characters)

2. Look back through your notes and future plans. Get excited, again, for your book or series.

3.Watch videos and read articles about writing 😉, they can help you get through the problem or just be fun.

4. Remind yourself why you want to write and why writings fun. its different for everyone but reading is an example.

5. Sleep, be healthy, socialize, get sunlight and fresh air, exercise. These can clear your mind, get you in a good mood and helps your overall day.

4. When you realize your dialog sucks or unnatural.

This may not be as bad as some of the others I already mentioned, but dialog can help or ruin a book. Dialog can spark ideas of character development, relationships, sub-plots, or even how to continue the overarching plot. But if you do it wrong, it can take forever to fix.

3. When you are stuck. You want to write but you can’t think of anything. I like to call this Writer’s Traffic instead of Writer's block.

This is one of the worst case of scenarios for me as a writer because I want to write but instead I am staring at a computer screen.

Solution:

Skip the scene. Skip the next few lines. Leave a note for yourself so you can come back to it at a better time.

2. When you realize you don’t know your characters enough.

It's hard to admit, but when your character is inconsistent and its not part of their personality then you have a problem. You may even have to rewrite most of your book if you’re far in. If you don’t know your characters and your on chapter 4 then stop now and save yourself.

Solution:

Do character questionnaires, explain anything important in their past. Anything traumatic they have experienced, their personality, how they would react in a certain situation. It’s really important to know their background (Note: You need to know, not your readers unless necessary)

Link to a character questionnaires. https://www.writerswrite.co.za/prousts-questionnaire-35-questions-every-character-should-answer/ also they got some awesome writing advice!

1.DUN DUN DUN!THE LAST ONE! When your writing (or lack of) has an effect on you daily life and you feel absolutely miserable.

You would be surprised how often this happened to me, It’s almost like a heavy depressed feeling that makes it painful to basically do anything.

Maybe it's outside writing that makes you feel this way but you just can’t write. Everything is dull and grim, your head hurts or you have no motivation to do anything.

You just can’t.

Solution:

Use your miserableness as a motivation. You want to get rid of it, right? Then you must do what helps. Here's a few tricks.

1. Drink water. Perhaps your dehydrated.

2. Exercise. This one is really helpful on more than your emotions. Do this before considering taking a nap, because naps can make it worse.

3. Go to bed earlier. If your like me than your nocturnal but if you simply go to bed at 10 then you will feel much better in the morning. I suggest reading or doing something other than look at a screen before going to bed. Screens can make it troublesome to fall asleep.

4. Socializing. You may be awkward but at least you have a mother? A father? Grandparents? A best friend? Siblings? Random people online? Anyone who can distract you, and make you feel better. It doesn’t necessarily need to be a pleasant conversation, just one that won’t bring you down. Socializing can make you feel so much better.

5. Get a horrible beta reader. (this is a joke...kind of) A beta reader is a person who reads your book or a chapter and gives feedback. A good beta reader is honest and gives praise and criticism. This is what I meant for a bad beta reader. Someone who you trust who will probably be scared to hurt your feelings. Even though it might not be true, positive feedback will help.

That is all I have! I hoped you enjoyed! Have a Fantastic day! I will be posting again soon!

#writing #writing a book #writing advice #for beginners #author #fantasy #fiction #novel advice #teenage writers #for everyone #mentalstrength #taking care of yourself

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theleagueof13 · 4 years

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Rewriting the Entirety of SGE: The School Years

All of this is solely up to my own preference. Yes, some parts may be messy because I am inexperienced. I don’t even know what a plot is. Here we go.

I didn’t have any major problem with Book 1 until Agatha’s Glow Up, so we’re starting there.

Canon: Agatha realizes she was beautiful all along and literally two minutes later Tedros falls in love with her.

However, I think it would’ve been so much more impactful if she simply changed her perspective on her “ugliness” from a negative light to an objective standpoint.

We already know that Agatha is badass, so I think she should view herself that way. Insecurity is nothing if she amounts her features to the raw human ability that they possess. Her frame is tall and skinny because she’s athletic, her big eyes serve her the purpose of seeing. Agatha may not be pretty, but every bone in her body was made so that she could eat, breathe, laugh, fight, do parkour around School for Evil.

It’s obvious that Ever Girls only care about their appearance because they want to impress boys (in School for Girls, they are shown as letting themselves go). Agatha is characterized as having no interest in boys, and therefore she doesn’t need to be pretty in the first place. Now, I know that princesses need a prince in order to have their fairytale, but Agatha already thinks that’s bullshit -- why not go against it?

Also, this is extremely minor, but I'd rather have Agatha have some kind of deformity, like a cleft lip or crooked spine. It would really sell the idea that she was different. As a kid, even if Soman screamed in my face that Agatha was canonically ugly, I couldn’t imagine how she could be if the features she was described with were SO normal. Of course, her deformity remains throughout the book, because that is Not Cool if it’s magically removed.

I’ve said this before in my I Don’t Really Like Agatha post, and I’ll say it again. She is ungrateful for the opportunity she could have at School for Good. I’d literally kill to be there, I’d sit through every mind-numbing, subtly sexist class about smiling and posture just so I could practice magic, and I’m sure a lot of people think the same.

[edited: didn’t mean to sound so callous, it’s only an opinion]

Agatha isn’t even using this to expand her power. She uses her wish a total of 2 times in this book, and it’s not like she didn’t have time to use it. It’s disappointing.

So, imagine that Agatha just GRINDS in her school-work. Sure, she fails the challenges related to Strategic Blushing and Matching Outfits, but everything else she excels. At first she just didn’t want to be turned into a plant, she was only studying to survive. Now, it’s more than that.

Agatha is introduced as having a fondness for villains, and it’s apparent that beauty is irrelevant in their success stories. Although she is hurt when Sophie alludes to how she’d “fit in” with the immature, trigger-happy Nevers, she can apply those values of dismissing outer appearances while still being Good. It’s not as if Agatha is greedy or deceitful. She saves the Wish Fish, forgives Sophie countless times, and doesn’t do anything outright vicious. There’s no reason to question that she’s NOT a Never. She can be ugly and an Ever at the same time, wasn’t that the original message?

Hypothetically, she gains more knowledge and strength in spells and potions and such, and just like Sophie, even if everyone doubted her, she could rise through the ranks. There’s no point in worrying about your looks when you’re the most powerful girl in school. (Did I make Agatha too close to Evil? Maybe. But she doesn’t need to push people down to bring herself up, she’s just a natural like that.)

Also, if she needs a boy to ask her out to the Snow Ball, she 100% hates that. She could just talk to Dovey, are they really gonna fail the baddest bitch there?

No. They’re not.

Okay, here’s the biggest part that everyone will hate me for. No Tagatha. At least, not until TLEA.

When Agatha comes out of the Groom Room having just kickstarted her self-esteem and everyone’s drooling, Tedros is attracted to her instantly. I guess that’s fine. Reasonable. But consider this:

Agatha doesn’t love Tedros back.

When Tedros asks her out at the Circus of Talents, she declines. Because if she really knew her own worth, she wouldn’t say yes before making friends with him first. That’s only fair. Actually, I’d say a part of insecurity is settling for any guy who gives you attention (aka Tedros). Y'all are gonna hit me with the damning “We accept the love we think we deserve”.

EVEN IF SHE BELIEVES SHE DESERVES HIM NOW, IT DOESN’T MEAN SHE’LL JUMP AT THE CHANCE TO DATE HIM. THAT’S MESSED UP.

Okay, I know Sophie threw her bitch fit because Agatha was being a hypocrite and dating Tedros. So, tweak that and have Sophie throw a bitch fit simply because Tedros asked Agatha out in the first place. That still makes sense with her entitled selfish personality.

In the stupid war of Evers and Nevers, (which was like, strange considering they’re kids but they’ll have a similar conflict for the next two years), Tedros and Agatha are not together. You could throw in a bit of “Tedros wants to prove to Agatha he’s a hero” but for god’s sakes we are NOT putting in that little chauvinistic “how dare a princess question me”. That one line gave me a bad feeling about Tedros — foreshadowing for AWWP? And it’s crazy that Soman wrote that, along with his lack of brain cells. Are you trying to make readers bully him in memes and instagram group chats? Not from personal experience.

Oh, and this is more of a complaint. But, why did Soman make Sophie bald, pockmarked, and toothless in her transformation of embracing Evil? I thought this was about breaking stereotypes.

The Evil stigma that’s drilled in their heads about being pretty and in general taking care of yourself, is completely inane to me. I can’t believe that Sophie’s “trickery” of Tedros was so revolutionary. None of the Nevers, in 200 years, thought of that?

Instead of her beauty regressing, I’d actually want it to be heightened. It’s what set her apart from the Nevers the moment she walked in. It should be the icing on top of the cake. When Sophie is at her peak of power, she’s a princess. Who could kill you.

If you’re worried about reducing women to be pretty objects or seductresses, stop. It’s okay. Sophie has other powers like summoning ravens, wasps, locusts, bats, using her singing voice for torture, and she is skilled in curses and death traps. In short, the Hot Evil Lady trope works for her. (I think. Someone correct me.)

At the end of SGE, Agatha chooses Sophie over Tedros. Needless to say, Tedros feels betrayed. If you wanted to make him an idiot, with anger issues, daddy issues, and an inferiority complex, this is the easiest way out. He’s under the misguided impression that Agatha belongs with him simply because 1. He loves her. 2. He’s the prince of Camelot, damnit. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

Not to mention that his father pressured him not to make the same mistake. And Tedros thinks that School for Good is his pool of suitors since Arthur married his classmate Guinevere? There is no line of logic in this man at all, did you miss the part where Guinevere cheats and runs away? Maybe Ever Girls isn’t the only place you should look! There are thousands of other girls in the Woods and you intend to find your soulmate at 14?? Goddamn.

In conclusion, Tedros’ hurt feelings continue to AWWP. Easy.

And if y’all gonna come for me about how Tedros is easily swayed by looks (he’s convinced that Sophie and Agatha are in the wrong schools for half the book) I’d want to make him a bit smarter. I know that’s impossible.

In canon, Tedros turns on Sophie because her true colors showed, and her witchy phase gives him that confirmation bias. He goes feral with testosterone and heroism, as we know.

I’d like him to understand that just because his solely physical attraction to Sophie grew when she’s evil and pretty, it doesn’t mean that she’s not any less dangerous. If Tedros, of all people, learns the difference between appearances vs reality, it would really drive the point home.

All right. You’re still here?

Here’s some extra headcanons you could add in here and here.

In the meantime I’ll think of more.

If there were any hard-hitting themes I was supposed to include, please tell me, I usually gloss over them while reading.

But anyway, thanks for reading this far.

#The School for Good and Evil #School for Good #School for Evil

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