#that scribble is actually from a whole Scene and Plot i have in my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asukamood · 2 years

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Hello everyone! How are you doing?

Today is one of my friends’ birthday and since it’s a huge fan of Drueswap and Blue angst, I have decided to write that enormous 3291 words long of that (to give you a reference, most of the fics I posted here are between 2k and 2,3k long). The main idea of the plot doesn’t actually belong to me, for context, that same friend had told me about a Drue fic where Blue had barged into Dream’s office looking like a mess because he had just encountered somebody he did not want to see again and told me about how much it regret not being able to find it again.

Since it loved it so much, I’ve decided to write it the thing in my own style to compensate for its loss.

Enjoy the absolute chaos below those three stars.

(PS: There’s a kissing scene in this and I literally looked like a tomato while writing it, I am so weak :’)

PSS: I have checked the Drueswap tag every single day and not one new post appeared, am I the only existing Drue supply on Tumblr or are the others just not appearing for some reasons??)

Warnings: Physical abuse/violence, murder attempt without remorse, blood, several mental breakdowns, implied eating disorder (it’s really light) and heavy Blue angst.

***

It was late in the afternoon, probably around 2 PM. Although it was hard to tell because of the gloomy weather outside, plus, Dream was too focused on his paperwork to take a look at the watch on his wrist.

Water droplets crashed onto the windows behind him, regularly hitting the glass shield that silently screamed at each impact, the pain only manifested by the faint sound of bumping. In the chorus of the rain came the main vocals, the storm.

Blinding light flashed from time to time, illuminating briefly the cold room that was Dream’s office and casting shadows after being deviated by the imposing figure that was his body and desk. The light was only the face, the quiet partner that ran away in silence at an impressive speed.

The thunder roared after it, its voice reaching the ground and shaking it because of its sheer force. It was trying in vain to catch up to it, it was too slow and the lightning too fast.

That whole show had been going on for hours now and by the looks of it, the thunderstorm’s rage wasn’t going to lessen any time soon, in fact, it only seemed to grow bigger. Its irritated and icy cold breath blew at the trees outside which swayed in fear of being the Lightning’s next target as the light and thunder ran more frequently, screaming after one another in a deafening duet.

With that melancholic climate, most people would tremble with the trees. Some quite liked the sight of the Heavens’ tears racing against one another on their windows, others didn’t give it much thought and only found the noises mildly annoying when extended for too long.

Dream Von Licht just so happened to belong to that part of the population.

However, the continuation of the rain’s drum wasn’t what had him have his eyebrows furrowed or his left-hand tapping nervously on the wooden platform.

At one point, he finally gave in to the temptation and stopped his endless scribbling to glance at the time displayed on his watch.

It was 2 PM, or in other words, an hour after Blue’s usual appearance. Yet, the clock may continue to click its tongue, the man in blue has still yet to show up. To say that Dream was awaiting his arrival would be the truth a lie, while he didn’t mind his company, he didn’t need Blue to be here with him every week to function correctly.

The reason why he hasn’t shown up yet may be because of that pretty heavy rain outside. With weather like that, no one would want to drag themselves in the rain just to flirt with somebody, it made sense that he would rather spend the day at home doing something else like watching a TV show with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate upon his lips.

That reasoning was completely logical.

So why did he still feel like something was amiss here?

A frustrated groan escaped him. He picked his pen back up before he started writing swiftly on the paper again, trying to get his mind to focus on the task at hand instead of fretting over Blue’s whereabouts.

Just as his stiff shoulders finally began to relax, he heard on his side the sizzling of a glitchy portal opening. The bad feeling that has been haunting him for the past hour decided to explode at that moment, soul pounding with warnings.

Blue never used a portal to get here.

The portal appeared fast and dissipated just as quickly. Between the two instances, a humanoid creature had the time to throw itself at the winged man, who had the air knocked out of him because of how fast it jumped on him.

That creature was soon identified as Blue but instead of his usual flirty greeting, he only heard heavy breathing as the other held onto him as if his entire existence depended on him.

He was soaked from head to toe, his hair sticking onto his forehead like glue had been used to do that. Dream hesitantly brushed his nape, his skin felt as cold as ice yet his freezing temperature didn’t seem to be the reason why he was shaking like a leaf in the wind or why he was breathing so intensely.

“… Blue?” The politician had said that in a whisper but it still seemed to have broken something inside of the other who let out a heartbreaking sob once the name left his mouth.

As a result, the yoga teacher squeezed him even tighter, burying his face even deeper into his chest as he started to wail like an amputated animal. He couldn’t see much from this angle but on his now wet shirt and jacket, he had suddenly taken note of the presence of crimson stains on them. That was blood.

Moreover, some parts of his hoodie were missing and from the looks of it, they had been torn off by a sharp object, if the thin lines of blood flowing out of cuts were any indication of that.

Dream had no clue what he was supposed to do, it was the first time he had seen the other acting so… vulnerable and he has never been one for emotions, as ironic as it may seem.

After a few seconds, he decided to wrap his arms around him and let his hand rub comforting circles on his back, careful not to brush any of the open wounds on the sensitive skin. He whispered sweet nothings to him as well to try and calm him down.

With his current state, it was needed for Blue to be taken to the medical wing but this idea seemed like wishful thinking at the moment since the other was squeezing him so tightly he felt as if all blood circulation inside of his torso had stopped. He didn’t seem like he was going to let go of him any time soon either.

The rain got even more intense, the furious pattering of the rain shaking even the triple-glazed windows. This whole situation almost felt surreal, who knew Dream would one day have to struggle with comforting someone as unpredictable as Blue?

This whole ordeal had him wanting to chew on his nails to pass the time, he had no clue what he was supposed to do and was only observing himself say things like a lost child.

He was expecting Blue to feel even worse if he were to be truly honest, yet against his beliefs, he had managed to calm him down for his sobs to turn into quiet whimpers and sniffs. Or perhaps it could be because he had no more tears left to shed, this could be a possibility too.

One of Dream’s hands came up to pet the other’s hair, who leaned onto his touch while trying not to look at the blood he had put all over Dream’s clothes. He was already completely messed up both mentally and physically, there was no need for him to start throwing up what little he had eaten that day too.

“I’m going to take you to the medical wing. Is that okay?” Blue let out a tired hum, nodding. He slouched against Dream and then stopped moving, eyes gazing at the horizon. One of them was suspiciously glitching but Dream didn’t think much of it.

Blue was still hugging him but he could move around now, that was something at least. Dream then proceeded to hold him in a bridal style in order to make transportation easier, it’s not like he was going to walk all the way down to the medical wing but he still deemed that necessary. After all, you never know when he’ll have to run away because of something.

In a flick of wrist, they were both sitting on one of the medical wing’s beds. It was unusually silent here, there wasn’t any sound of hushed whispers coming from the doctors nor was there any sound of wincing and whining from patients. It was completely silent, save from Blue’s shaky breath.

Dream frowned, he had completely forgotten about most of the JR staff staying at home today because of the rather disadvantageous weather. The majority of people were unable to use teleportation so it made sense as to why they would want to take the day off in those conditions.

It still didn’t make him want to bang his head against the wall any less though.

Well, he didn’t have much of a choice now did he? He was going to have to take care of those himself. Thankfully though, none of his injuries looked to require any intensive medical treatment like operations or so, most of his cuts looked to be pretty superficial from the looks of it.

He got Blue off of his lap and managed to make him stop clinging onto him for a few with minimal complaint, but that changed when he tried to get up. The shaking man had grabbed Dream’s hand, a worried and anxious look on his face.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice weak. Dream definitely did not like him feeling that way, he would rather go through a century of the latter making fun of him than seeing him look so frightened.

He turned in his direction, tracing a finger over the back of the other’s hand in hopes it would distract him from whatever demons were haunting him. “I’m just going to get the stuff needed to heal you, I’ll be back soon okay?” Blue’s eyebrows furrowed and his hand squeezed Dream’s even tighter. He didn’t seem to like the idea of staying alone there, even though the other would only be standing a few feet away.

A small sigh escaped him. “Blue, look at me.” Dream’s other hand found its way on Blue’s chin and his pointer lifted it to force the shorter man to look at him. The latter’s azure eyes went up to stare at the other’s golden eyes, unblinking.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Dream looking like he was debating on his next action. That’s when his fingers left the other’s chin to cup his cheek instead, his face gradually inching closer to the latter’s.

Blue took three solid seconds to realize what was happening and by the time he processed the information, Dream’s lips were already on his. He yelped in surprise, the sound muffled by the kiss.

Dream traced a small circle on his cheek with his thumb, visibly about to stop there. Blue wasn’t having it though so he pulled him down by the collar, put his free hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him there and squeezed his eyes shut, continuing the kiss.

The taller one made a small noise of his own before he kissed back, only pulling away a few seconds later. Blue felt his face heat up, processing what they just did. It’s not like it was the first time they kissed, that event had occurred a couple of times already but somehow that one in particular felt… special.

The winged man turned away, his face having turned red himself. “I’m not going to leave, if that’s what you assumed.” He stated, trying not to let his flustered state influence the way he was talking. He was sure that if his voice wavered just a tiny bit, Blue would never let him live it down. “It won’t take long.”

With that, Dream turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a flustered Blue on the pristine white bed. At least the kiss had the intended effect, whatever had Blue so frightened was now off of his mind and would be for a few.

***

The thunder was still raging on but the couple didn’t seem to notice the rain furiously banging at the windows, way too preoccupied by what they were currently doing. The chestnut-haired one had claimed his place on the other’s lap the second he had come back and had refused to move ever since.

Both his soaked hoodie and shirt laid neatly folded on the nearest chair as his scarf stayed in his hands, Dream having failed to have him let go of it. He knew how important his scarf was to him so he didn’t try to insist any further, him accepting to take it off already being a miracle.

The blonde also had his jacket shed off in order to get the blood away from Blue, who was actively struggling to look away from his own wounds by focusing on the other. He let out a wince though when the tissue immersed in alcohol had touched a cut on his chest, he knew that disinfecting the wound was essential but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Sorry.” Dream apologized quietly, eyes still narrowed in concentration on the task at hand. Treating a wound wasn’t hard per say but when you were this close to the patient, it did become kinda hard. He had done a good job so far though, most of Blue’s wounds have effectively been covered and healed, his face even patched up too.

There were now only some minor ones left, injuries that could be dealt with in a few seconds from now.

Once the final cut was treated, Dream let out a sigh, fixing his posture once more. “There we go, all fixed.” Blue waited until Dream had put down all the bandages and stuff before wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down so their faces were barely inches apart.

“Angel,” He whined, looking up at Dream with sad puppy eyes. “I’ve been dying the entire duration of that!” He slumped against Dream with a pout before smiling up at him with an innocent face. “Can I get a kiss reward for not making too much noise?”

Dream hummed, feigning thinking about it. “Maybe after a nice shower will that be possible.”

“Together?” He dead panned at him, pretending like his face wasn’t turning pink.

"No. Obviously separately.” He unwrapped the arms around him before standing up, dragging Blue with him and opening a portal. “You can go first, I’ll take what we left there back.”

The other nodded, soon disappearing into the warm golden rift.

***

Blue definitely felt way better now that he took a shower and was basking in the warmth of Dream’s clothes because yes, he let him borrow his clothes this one time. He buried his nose into the fabric, enjoying how the scent of vanilla immediately filled his nozzle.

He let out a pleased breath, before his mood suddenly took a whole 180°C remembering what happened for him to be in that position right now. Before he could dwell any further into it, he heard the lock of the bathroom door click before it swung open, revealing a Dream in a way more comfortable outfit than what he was usually seen wearing.

Blue forced a smile on his face, extending his hands into his direction.

Dream smiled back, walking towards him as requested before he was pulled down into a cuddle. As a response, he only wrapped his arms around him, petting his hair softly. Blue let himself relax into his embrace, repeating in his head that he was with Dream, that he was safe now in hopes he’ll finally believe it.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, silence only broken by the sounds of Blue’s soft breathing and the occasional friction of tissues when one of them would move a leg or something like that.

“Blue?” Dream suddenly called out to him, looking down at him briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

The latter blinked, shifting so their eyes met. He nuzzled into the other’s neck, already having a feeling on what he was going to ask. “Sure, go ahead.” He managed to let out in a casual voice, even though his mind was a complete mess on its own.

“What happened before you went through your portal?” There it was. Blue took a sharp breath, clinging onto Dream’s shirt tightly.

“… It’s a long story.” He eventually said, face still pressed against Dream’s neck. “Before I reply, may I ask some favors out of you?” Dream nodded, now his other hand intertwined with the other’s.

“First, I would like you not to tell anyone else about what I’m going to tell you.” As he spoke, Blue briefly wondered if it was actually a good idea to talk about it to Dream. But then again, it was now obvious that he wasn’t safe almost anywhere and talking about it might help him not only feel better about it but also get rid of the problem in the future.

Dream nodded at that, showing he agreed to the first condition.

“And then…” He paused. “I would like to move in with you, at least for the time being.” Dream froze, his petting halting for a moment.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Blue continued speaking, avoiding looking at his partner. “I’ll let you make up your mind after I tell you what I have to tell.”

That’s when he began counting his story, telling Dream about his childhood and how the man called his brother had made his life completely hell as the latter rubbed comforting patterns on his hand, on his arm, on his leg and pretty much anywhere he could reach while at the same time squeezing his hand in support. Those little touches definitely helped him feel more comfortable telling his story and confirmed that he was, in fact, down bad for the man since any time he changed his rubbing spot, he would blush, interrupting what he was saying with a little stutter.

If Dream had noticed, he didn’t show it. He has simply been patiently waiting for the other to finish his story, visibly holding back a string of curses at several points in the story.

Then he debuted the part of the universe collapsing, and how he pushed his brother off the cliff.

“I was convinced that I killed him.” He confessed, snuggling even closer to Dream. “I saw him disappear into the void and for me, that was the end of it all. I didn’t feel any regret when I did it whether it be during or after the act.”

One would think Dream would have said something about that confession but he believed in justified murder and that one ticked all the boxes for him, if he were the one who caught him, he would have been executed anyway. Parasites like him had no place to keep in that multiverse.

“But then…” Blue swallowed, already feeling the tears gathering in his eyes. He felt one of Dream’s golden wings wrap itself around his waist, tickling his legs and he let out a sigh. It was so soft.

“But then,” He retried with a shaky voice. “I found him waiting for me at my house. As to what happened next… well I think you can guess.”

The second those words left his mouth, he broke into sobs again. As an answer, the blond man hugged him tightly, peppering his face with kisses.

“It was very brave of you to talk about it with me, thank you for that.” Blue let out a hiccup, burying his face into his shoulder. “As for him, I’ll do my best so he never hurts you again.” His eyes narrowed, the light inside of them fizzling out for a brief moment.

“But for now, let’s go to sleep. How does that sound?” With that, they both fell asleep, cuddling so much they looked like a mess of limbs from an outside perspective.

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waywardstation · 1 year

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I don't post a lot about any of my writing or story bits about my characters often myself (if ever, im horribly shy about my writing skills ;w;), but the process I follow sounds similar to some of the others who have sent asks about the same thing to you!

Nothings linear when I plan or write things ever, it all comes randomly when it wants to show up I can never force it, the way it works for me is if I have the story or plot point I want to improve/add to in mind, I kinda just let my mind go on autopilot, to think, I don't think. I put my music on shuffle and if a song gets the right vibes, the idea builds off that to draw it out, and usually I imagine different scenarios and interactions with the song (its always very vauge like a mixing pot of potential) and just go about working or cleaning, even sleeping as I got good at lucid dreaming years ago, and THEN, the braincell connects juuuuust right and I get a whole dialouge session or a complete scene thought up that I hastily scribble down to just have the key words or lines to hold it there. I have notepads and mini sketchbooks everywheres with bits and pieces of story, lore or character creations in them. My poor phones note app needs to be sorted very badly XD

Another way I learned to get ideas or character development improved on is to talk/type it out to a friend that knows about the thing in question and just, type or talk! Half of any current ideas I've gotten lately have all been half formed until I had gone and typed up an entire wall to explain things, and as I'm doing so, more smaller pieces, or even HUGE pieces I didn't think of before become known all of a sudden that fit into place perfectly! It's just like Rubber Duck Debugging for people who type codes for software and websites. If something breaks or they can't find the issue they talk to a rubber duck to hear themself back and then that usually helps find the problem because they no longer have to see the code like they have been for god knows how long, they can hear it instead and they pick up on the bug that way!

Also just like Warden Anon, I too see everything you've written like a movie being played out in my head, it helps you describe your scenes and interactions very very well to be able to easily visualize what your portraying! XD

Some folks can see what your writing just like it's a movie and some folks see it just as the script but still have that same understanding, or its just a haze. It's called Aphantasia! There was a trend going around about how clearly you can see an apple when you think about it with your eyes closed not too long ago!

What a thought process OP!! It’s so interesting to hear about; I’m simultaneously so similar but so different from that. I will listen to music as well (it has to be instrumental though, no words and very quiet. I have tinnitus, so it needs to be just enough to dull the ringing) and just sit down somewhere secluded; I can’t do other things like you do - though wow, you’re lucky you can lucid dream so easily!!

Talking can help so much too!! From getting help from beta readers, to publicly sharing concepts on this blog that others can help me walk through, it really does help a lot!! I should do it more, though - the rubber duck coding comparison is a good way to reemphasize why it’s so helpful!

And that’s so good to hear that my work can actually be visualized!! I can’t really visualize it myself ^^ I’m not quite sure I can articulate what it’s actually like to me, but it’s definitely not like a movie, or any clear visuals of any sort. I realized that when my brother brought up an aphantasia test, asking me to visualize an elephant a few years ago ^^ It’s interesting how brains work like that!!

Thanks for sharing OP!!! Loved hearing your thoughts and reading about what you shared!!

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serendipitous-magic · 3 years

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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

729 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 3 years

Text

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

Patton trusted him. A lot.

The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

There was so much life outside.

His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

There was life inside too.

There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

And...

And maybe that was true.

Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

Maybe then nothing else mattered.

Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath.

It was much less stuffy outside.

"Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

"If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

"Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

"We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

"Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

"No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

"Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

"I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

"Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

“You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

“Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

“Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

“Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

“Logan!”

“I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

“No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

“Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

“You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

“Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

“Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.”

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

#The beginning is quite sad but I swear it gets much lighter and fun in just some paragraphs #Finally managed to reduce my introduction I've been trying to do this for AGES but no idea appeared in my mind #<333 #Patton and Logan's friendship was so so incredibly funto write I can't believe I've been stopping myself to write logicality for years bc-#-I was afraid of not doing them justice #I am literally so happy I managed to finish this fic. I am so so proud of it. Finally I wrote some nice cheer up tickles #aaaaa #You can pry them being happy and having fun together from my very cold dead hands #Lee!Patton #Ticklish!Patton #Ler!Logan #Ler!Roman #Mouth tickles #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's Fanfic #Human AU #Alternative universe #If you read this before I remember to edit and put the title no you didn't sdfrgthyujikcv #xD

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra.

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too.

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined.

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation.

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine.

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact.

But I know those words were written for him all the same.

Notes:

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles

#ezra #ezra prospect #Prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra's journal #prospect fanfiction #ezra fanfic #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

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A Conversation with the Author of City Comma State, kippielovesyou/ForcedSimile

Had a short interview with the author of City Comma State, @kippielovesyou/ForcedSimile and asked her if I could share our conversation online---she said yes!

Did you know that Hange and Levi in her work was based on Spongebob and Squidward's interactions?

Read the entire transcript below:

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djmarinizela (D): if i may ask, where and how did you learn to write so good? what inspired you to write city comma state?

kippielovesyou (K): i don't mind at all! it's genuinely just years of practice. i've been scribbling stories since kindergarten (i had a long standing multi part series in first grade about all my classmates). i think one thing is certain: having a strong understanding of characters whether you borrow them or they are your own is pretty key.

a lot of points [in Isayama's story] could have been better thought out or tighter. however, we all love his characters. a weak plot (or in the case of city comma state: no plot) can be ignored or forgiven if everyone loves the characters

i'll be honest, i spend a lot of time trying to understand why a character does things or reacts a certain way. and yes, sometimes, that means i act out scenes in my car while driving. it's embarrassing...

there's a lot more to it, but to me that's the most important thing

as far as how city comma state came about: i wanted to do a slow burn romance centered around levihan, but I also wanted to show how all these characters care about and support each other. i knew in the confines of the AoT world, anyone could die at any moment and that didn't work with the softer feelings i wanted people to enjoy. how can you enjoy the friendship between mike and hange if he dies? it's possible, but it upends all the warmth we were enjoying. so i wrote an AU. i wanted to keep levi with a rough background with many walls, and i wanted hange to have her own issues that they can work through together. and i love the idea of them adopting/supporting the 104th kids without the fear of sending them out to war

D: your answer is so profound and helpful, thank you so much! I can honestly say you pretty nailed it when it comes to character development---everyone has a character arc in your fic! [my next question] is about the gender discourse in your story. I know you started City Comma State pretty early in 2014, but even back then, the nonbinary identity wasn't widely known before. How were you able to flesh out the discourse on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum and play it out on the dialogues and backstories?

K: it's pretty funny, a lot of the LGBTQIA+ has always been discussed i my family. we've had gay, lesbian, trans, gnc, bi and asexual people in my family for generations, as far back as the 20s (that we're aware of). hange's gender being debated made it a prime opportunity to write such an experience, some of which is borrowed from my own life. when i read older chapters i see certain slips in dialogue where i could have made an effort to be more neutral. we're in such a binary society that sometimes even if you feel in between, it slips in. in fact, i'm sure some people might take issue with the fact that i stuck with she/her for hange. i'm not sure i'd make a different decision today. i like this version of hange the way she is, and i hope hange's nb/gnc status comes across in more than just pronouns. hange's full identity is so much more than that and that is what i wanted to explore. and i think no matter where you fall on the whole LGBTQIA+ spectrum, you are more than just the label you've chosen. yes, in this story levi is bi/pan. but i don't think he ever says that explicitly, and he avoids labels. it seems fussy to him, which feels levi. discourse would not be his thing. i think even having a debate about whether or not he was bi or pan wouldn't be something he would want to engage in, he just wants to do what he wants. instead it's heavily implied. i think we forget since so many of us experience this discourse online and want to label things that there are people who don't want to involve themselves in it. it goes back to how would this character act. for instance, based on how levi is in canon, i can see many ways to interpret his sexuality. there's cues for a lot of different takes. but levi doesn't seem like the type that would need a definitive label in order to be happy. there's many ways to interpret hange's gender (and i've written several takes, some where they're more insistent on their pronouns), but i think hange's more excited to explore life than worry too much about much about how they're addressed or how someone talks about them. maybe another character might be more caught up in labels but hange and levi not so much

D: No, don't be sorry, I am more than thankful for your answer. I really appreciate it! I don't get to have these kinds of conversations with other writers, so I am grateful for your insights.

K: a really funny anecdote for you: i loosely based the idea of my levihan off of spongebob and squidward. you know, since they start out as neighbors and hange is more invasive than levi is used to

D: that's.... a stretch. but thanks for the tidbit! was the annual star wars contest also something that you do in your family? that part as well as all the geeky references won me over tbh!

K: it was an extremely loose inspiration! but hange mowing her lawn in the middle of the night so levi wouldn't be mad at her is on par with a spongebob move. and um...my family, while they can be a little nerdy, is not nerdy enough to do the star wars tournament! i made that up entirely

i just imagined hange having eccentric family, so they have very unusual traditions that none of the children question

i'll be the first to say a lot of city comma state is unrealistic and a little bit of a domestic fantasy. there's a lot of problems with money, employment and such that hange and levi SHOULD have but that's a little too real and not what i want to be the focus of this story. like hange landing a job that gives her a day off and she doesn't suffer a severe pay cut as a result? unrealistic. but i have other things i want to tackle. plus, in canon we have humans that turn into giants and 3D maneuver gear which would probably kill its user in real life. i think making certain parts of this fanfic a little idealistic is okay

D: are there other works that influence your writing? or authors that inspire you to write?

K: There's too many influences to count. reading is so important and even things that are bad are helpful. i actually was trying to read a YA series that seemed really cool and i had to stop reading because so many things were so annoying (I won't reveal which, since i think it has a small but dedicated fandom and i don't want to rain on their parade, it is purely a taste thing to some degree). instead of being upset and thinking that I wasted my time, i took note of what made me stop reading (that is a long list of things i didn't like so i won't bother to outline each one). even if it's something as small as a fanfiction that you had to click out of, ask yourself why you stopped. Especially with fanfiction: you already like these characters, what you're looking for is usually pretty specific (a pairing, an au, a specific scenario, etc). why, when this author has ticked all your superficial boxes, did you stop reading? and when you love something as yourself why. Ask yourself why you love the source material even! do you really love the plotlines and the world or do you love the characters? Is the dialogue strong? something to also pay attention to: people in general. how do they speak, gestures, facial expressions. really listen to how people talk (Youtube podcasts are really good for this!).

i think people would be surprised, a lot of what i really like to read is very all over. from surrealist novels, to classic literature, to science fiction aimed at children (i'm finally reading animorphs after almost 20 years!). and what i write for original fiction doesn't reflect what i'm probably best known for.

D: thanks for this, Kippie! looking forward to reading more of your works!

K: i'm still amazed at the response! writing is so solitary to me and i don't really look at my numbers. it never occurred to me that people would be discussing my fic!

-------------------------------------

If you haven't read Kippie's Levihan fic yet, here's the link to get started: City Comma State

#levihan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #interview #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #mine #djmarinizela

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jmalkki · 3 years

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From head canon to on-screen reality

Episode 6 of Season 3. You, guys.

My. Goodness.

What oddly specific joy.

One has secretly hoped a scene of this nature to eventually make it onto the show, and the promo images promised it was coming now. So, one went in expecting to finally see on screen the sweet sweet scene of the couple all domestic, chilling on their bed, sharing thoughts; the one one has imagined so many times in various forms, be it in text or in illustrations. Seemingly topped with a kiss, as well - gorgeous for the unremarkable mundanity of itself, without any story points or grand gestures tied to it.

Though the promo image promised kiss was not to be seen, what the domestically set scene itself delivered in substance was such a validating treat one could not feel one bit amiss; something one couldn’t have expected, hoped for, or imagined to come worth.

The end scenes of the episode made some major personal head canons true on screen! Namely the fact of Paul immediately recognizing the nature of one talking by oneself as if to a lost loved one, and admitting carrying Hugh similarly with him after Dear Doctor’s death. And, the fact, that both of the men hate the augmentations on Paul’s arms.

Seemingly tiny things perhaps, but these have both been some of the most persistent themes in my past writing of these two. And much as I abhor to go back to my past scribbles, I felt compelled to quickly go through whole of the Honey Mushroom series, and collect below all of the narratives focused on Paul talking to Hugh in his mind, and the instances mentioning the shared bother of the spore drive augmentations.

Which now suddenly as if offer possible context for the on-screen dialogue:

“God, I hated those things.” “I hated them more.”

I realize this is quite individual a glee, specific to curious personal head canon nuggets (and perhaps to those who might’ve enjoyed the nuggets / nursed any similar own ideas), but I am beyond ecstatic for those nuggets to have now made it on screen and/or fit into the canon, complementary to the narrative!

How ever coincidental, I think one must thank at least Anne Cofell Saunders, the writer of the episode, for including these specific allusions / plot directions, and in doing so making reality of one’s particular head canons. And, that gratitude must also be extended to anyone else, who might’ve been involved in what ever capacity in the process of bringing these into the show’s in-universe reality.

Feels like such an immense affirmation of one’s year(s) spent passionately imagining these unmentioned-in-canon dimensions (regardless how ever fumblingly). Such joy to see these once dearly envisioned behind-the-scenes aspects brought on screen, and into the canon.

More small, but notable glees: Paul’s PADD on the nightstand. And the men sleeping on the ‘correct’ sides of the bed, which has also been a theme in exploring the character of Paul. (And, in fact, Paul scratching the augmentations/residuals, too *heehee*).

Okay. Let’s go.

Passages of the augmentations being a bother:

From my second ever narrative, and the first to mention the augmentations, if not yet for the precise shared discomfort factor. Also the first to feature Paul talking to Hugh after the death:

[He shifted on the chair and reached for his forearm. Feeling out the hard plastic augmentation with his fingers. Rubbing it in a circular motion on top of his muscles, letting the gentle pressure push against his bones.

They were another reason - the augmentations - why he had felt so bare at the gym dressing rooms. He had only ever really bared them in the engineering for their designed purpose, and with Hugh around in the sickbay or in the confinements of their quarters. He had showed them to few others of course on occasion, but on his own discretion. He wasn’t comfortable letting them ‘hang out’ like he had just done. It too left him feeling exposed.

“They keep insisting I go in for a medical examination”, Paul muttered out quietly, while skimming through his calendar, like he was expecting Hugh - his resident consultant on all things medical - to actually answer.]

- We Are Undone, But Soldier On

From my only ‘alternative future’ story, with the first ever allusion to the shared discomfort with the apparatus. Also the narrative, which solidified the idea of Paul harboring Hugh ‘alive’ in his mind well after the death:

[ Paul smiled. He put his hand in his hair again, mussed it around a bit, adjusting it from side to side, observing it closely from the mirror. “And you won’t mind this either?” He asked with a faint look of apprehension on his face, “it’s still getting thinner and thinner each year.” “You know I always loved that”, Hugh spoke to him with most affectionate tone, as Paul could feel fingers play with the little swirl of thinning hair on the back of his head, “it makes you look irresistibly manly.”

“Like these”, Hugh continued, as Paul raised his arms in front of himself, displaying the thick, fluffy white hair covering his forearms, “I love falling asleep into this softness.” “Well, you’re in luck then. They sure aren’t thinning any”, Paul snickered, “I think the hair on my head might be migrating there in fact”. He could hear Hugh chuckle and felt a light encouraging pat on his hips.

Paul turned away from the mirror and walked slowly to the small kitchen cabin in the corner of the room. “Always hated shaving any of that off for those spore drive ports, just so you know.” he could hear Hugh’s voice commenting back at him. Paul was replicating his morning drink. “You won’t mind me saying then, how glad I was to get those off eventually”, Paul conversed in his head as he watched the replicator form a cup of tea.

“Of course not, Mushroom”, Hugh sounded to respond from the bed, “we’ve been through this many times. You don’t need to feel sorry for getting rid of those.”

“Yeah…” Paul muttered as he walked back to the room with a fresh cup of tea in his hands, “it just felt then like I was throwing something of you away”, he thought sitting down on the bed, “I know it’s silly.”

“It is. You know I wasn’t too keen on those things ‘hogging’ your arms either”, Hugh let out a little laugh, “and you really haven’t thrown any of me away.”

Paul looked sheepishly down to his tea. He knew what was coming.

“Don’t you think you should?” Hugh asked with a slight hint of worry in his voice.]

- Becalmed

A short, based solely on the premise of the discomfort of the augmentations:

[ Hugh wakes up to it again. To Paul’s arm wrapping around him. Dang, it used to be one of the best feelings in the mornings to wake in the safety of his Honey Mushroom’s manly arms. Now, there’s often this unforeseen complication. And Hugh has in part himself to blame for it too.

“Mushroom”, Hugh tries to carefully arouse the sleeping man’s attention by shaking him a little. He gets no response.

“Honey, can you move your arm a bit”, Hugh tries a little louder and attempts to wiggle himself from the man’s grip, but Paul just mumbles something in his sleep and won’t move. The arm wants to hold on to Hugh. Dammit. He loves it, but just not like this.

“Paul!” Hugh makes no attempt to discretion anymore, “will you let go of me!”

“What!?” Paul wakes up shouting irately at the abrupt wake-up call.

“Your damn augmentation is boring into my hip again”, Hugh lets the understandably agitated response get to him and snaps back in equal tone, which is far more harsh than necessary.

“Well, who the fuck’s fault is it, it’s there!?” Paul huffs back, fiercely as only provoked Paul would - even when half asleep, like he is right now.

“I know, I know. And you’re very welcome, by the way”, Hugh sneers, “just move it”.

“Fine!” Paul scoffs and yanks his arm to his own side of the bed, turning his back to Hugh as he does so. Hugh turns back to face his side as well.

The doctor then immediately feels regret for having gotten so agitated. He’s upset for the situation - lamenting over losing those comfy arms for the good of this ship -, not mad at the man.

How difficult for the man himself it must be to adjust? And Paul hasn’t once complained. Oddly so.

Hugh had just let his own less than satisfactory wake-up ruin Mushroom’s morning as well, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Paul”, Hugh turns to look at the man over his shoulder, "I didn’t mean to yell. I’m not upset with you".

“I know”, Paul’s sleepy voice sounds faintly somewhere behind the man’s back. He’s not turning back around.

Hugh worries his outburst might scare Paul to thinking twice before embracing him again. And he loves his cuddly Paul.

“Of course you’re still welcome to snuggle”, Hugh assures Paul, letting the regret sound in his voice.

But the man doesn’t hear him, he’s fast asleep again. And Hugh’s bed feels that much emptier without the safety of his man’s arms around him.]

- Losing Your Arms

From one, which references events referenced on screen, namely the introduction of the (preliminary) augmentations by revealing them installed on Paul’s arms:

[ Maybe it had indeed been but a dream after all. Like all of this. Perhaps like all the other times he remembers too. Those instances when they had been somewhere quite surprising - and admittedly quite exciting -, getting distracted by each other from their intended tasks.

Like, when at the Medbay, setting up these brand new spore drive ports on his arms, for a brief stolen moment before the evening shift had arrived to relief Hugh.

Indeed, occasionally he had been back as they were in the middle of hurriedly moving that task to their quarters to follow up on those distractions. Like they must have done just now, judging from the state in which their clothes lay scattered around the room and by the selection of tools haphazardly laid on the coffee table next to them. Like they ever really had any intention to use those once here on this couch.

Paul regards the augmentations on his forearms.

He’s getting a lot of extra orientation practice to the devices through these repeats however, Paul muses. Would Hugh notice anything? Will Mushroom have hard time explaining to the doctor after all of this, how he’s so well adjusted to these things so soon after installation?

He realizes this right now as he catches himself cursing them, positioning his arms so that the ports wouldn’t chafe against their bare skins. Is it too late to rethink these apparatus?]

- Come Again

From one, where Paul regards the augmentations at Hugh’s wake:

[ Paul remembers wrapping his arms around that waist each and every night.

He shifts his arms. The spore drive ports on his forearms, beneath the layers of sleeves, suddenly feel so alien again right then.

It’s not his first time in civilian clothing with them (thanks to his insistence on own comfort wear out of the uniform), but it is the first time with them off duty, since he’s off the ship. And they feel grossly out of place in these Earthly settings.

Hugh too had come to dislike them - his own invention - as soon as it had become apparent how they were an obstruction between their embraces.

Paul should get them removed, if they’ll no longer serve a purpose.

He takes his hands out of the pockets, folds his arms over his chest and goes back to staring across the room with what must appear quite a stern look.]

- Honoring One’s Heart

There was also one about the conceiving of the idea of the augmentations, where, however, the bother factor was not yet in sight:

Doctor, Not an Engineer

And this one, which doesn’t technically count for similar 'shared bother’ reasons either, perhaps, but is a whole narrative very much build around the inconvenience of the augmentations:

Performance Issues

Plus, couple saucy ones, which I won’t list here, lest I actually ever want to share this post *ha* More below:

While at it, (and, perhaps more importantly) here are the narratives build around the idea fact (!!) of Paul living with Hugh ‘alive’ in his mind after the death - in narrative order (some already featured above, too). Hardly captured by a single quote, but for a taste:

[ He had finally heard it. The voice. Hugh’s voice trying to calm him down, “Paul. You need to let yourself be upset. You need to let the tears come.” ]

- We Are Undone, But Soldier On

[ ‘Honey? Are you drunk?’

A delightful, relieved curiosity filled Paul’s mind momentarily as he peered into the darkness of the room wide-eyed, to see where the gentle, familiar voice calling him out was coming from.

Then he remembered, and with a loud, derisive scoff sank back into his darkened state of mind, slumping back down on the couch.

“So fucking what!? If I am.” ]

- A Better Man

[ None of this should matter. Not the suit, not the event, not the crowd. Paul is not here, and Hugh is not gone. Not yet anyway. They are still very much together, and just about to leave somewhere off by themselves, once done with this circus. To enjoy each others’ company somewhere away from all of this dreary pretend. Such a presentation, and for whose sake? “You don’t mind, if I’m not honoring you in accordance to the Fleet standards, do you?” He still gets no response. Hugh hasn’t talked to him since Paul disembarked that cursed ship. He’s still here though, isn’t he? Paul would surely feel it, if the man left.]

- Honoring One’s Heart

[ “Yes. We are too damn young to be thinking about retiring yet.” Paul said and turned to look by his side instinctively, only to see there was really no-one there, of course. He let out a little huff and smiled to himself. Then turned back to face the beach in front of him, and paused to think again. “It will surely be painful to be near it all on the Discovery”, his mind went on, “but I’m not quite ready yet to let go of what we had there either”. “Our only home together?” Hugh came back beside him. “Our first home together”, Paul specified, “so far…"]

- First Home

[ “Dear, I’m home”. He can just imagine himself standing there at the door of their cabin, staring into the empty, cold room that used to be. All the pleasant memories now tainted. How exactly will this be helping him to get over? “But please, do remind me again”, Paul whispers to himself, and hears a heavy, sympathetic sigh in reply, as if preparing itself for telling him of all the ways he’s doing the right thing to move on, and how it’s proud of him for not giving up, and how it supports him, and all that fucking sentimental nonsense, it’s had to tell him already, over and over. And which yet Paul needs to hear. To keep faith. To not forget. ]

- Watching Over You

[ “Hmh”, Paul shrugs, taking in the thought, suddenly a slight twinkle in his eyes, “…but I have too much ‘unbridled passion’ you say?” he then yields, disregarding his persistent gravity, as he apprehensively turns his playful smirk at Hugh, readying himself for this blessed dream to end short. But the man stays here. Startlingly, staring right back at Paul’s surprised gaze with almost haunting clarity. Paul’s grip on the newly corporeal man tightens in a moment of incredulity. For the first time in weeks - but which feels like a year - Paul is able to see the man, to look into those loving eyes again, bathe in that radiant smile, and respond to all of the emotions he now thirstily reads from the man’s beautiful face. And fuck, if there aren’t tears on Paul’s own. The man really is right here.]

- Passion of a Vulcan Like Mind

[ He could feel Hugh’s gaze on himself. “You realize, you actually wanted me gone today?”, he heard Hugh speak out gently, “I got in your way”.

Paul’s smile turned to an anguished frown. The tone of understanding in Hugh’s voice hurt him. “Never”, he attested firmly. He lay there as still as possible, staring at the ceiling, afraid to move too much, or turn to glance at his side, lest it chased away this sensation of Hugh beside him.

“You are being stubborn again, Mushroom”, Hugh whispered with a hint of worry in his voice, “why do you still cling on so desperately?”. He was so close Paul could almost feel the breath on him - or was that the sea breeze perhaps - “You said you’d be okay, if I left - why won’t you let me then?”]

- Becalmed (alt)

#star trek discovery #culmets #paul stamets #hugh culber #space boos #spaceboos #star trek #head canon

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pasiphile · 3 years

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idk if this is something you've either a) ever felt the desire to talk about (if not, please excuse the curiosity!) or b) talked about before, but how do you go about writing your ep(f)ics? it's one of those things i've always been curious about because there's plenty of chat about how to start an original novel and plot it etc but usually a good chunk of those hypothetical word counts come down to character building, which is less relevant in fic. any thoughts?

I don’t mind at all! Especially because after writing four (five?) of these fuckers I finally feel like I got the hang of how I actually tackle them.

(that is, the general method. If you're asking about knowing what scenes to write/how to decide what actually happens, there I can't help you. Imo, that's just a case of having imagination)

First a caveat, though: I don’t write chronologically. I know people who do, and honestly it seriously impresses me, but it’s not something that I can do. If you can write chronologically, please do, because you’ll save yourself a lot of headaches. But if you’re like me and you just hop around...

So basically I start out with a vague idea. In Laws that was picking up after ACWNR and showing how they got from there to the point at the start of the series, for TVD it was I wanna show Moriarty’s pov for most of the series, and for the Untamed it was what if post-canon someone starts fucking around with the Yin Metal again. Basic, huge ideas, that give me a start, a middle and an ending.

This is also the point where some people outline. Again, if you can, great! do it! give yourself structure! I personally keep trying and it never works so I’ve given up, and try to keep track in my head instead.

Once I’ve got the basic idea, I basically just... start writing. By which I mean, more specifically, that whenever I have a bit of free time I retreat into daydream-land and start imagining things that might happen. Anything might be a jumping-off point there; a thing I read in another story, an interesting meta I read, a detail I saw in canon. Anything that fits the general storyshape.

(A lot of those scenes start their life in the space before I fall asleep).

The trick after that is to get to a keyboard asap, before I forget what I actually had in mind, and write it down (this is also why fic fragments tend to show up in the notes app of my phone). Once I start writing those down, usually I go beyond what I initially thought of - they write themselves, in a way.

If you do that often enough, eventually you’ll end up with a critical mass of scenes. I do try to put those scenes roughly in the right place, chronologically, but that’s only an estimate. This phase two is basically one giant shuffle game: trying to see which scenes can follow on which, whether there’s a logical connection between them, and then cut-paste and adapt all over the place.

I don’t actually edit in this phase, to be clear. I might put in a placeholder and a note if I have an idea what needs to show up to make two scenes link to each other, but I don’t go any deeper. At this point, you need a bird’s view on your story.

Once that’s in place, I start the hard work, which is taking those scenes and turning them into a coherent whole. Basically I just start reading at the start (of the story/chapter) and then run through the story as if I’m watching a series. The bulk of it has been written by now, so I now have room to write in the connective bits, the references to previous happenings, more internal thoughts and reflections...

And at the end of that phase, you’ve got something that resembles a (clunky, messy, occasionally weird) story.

So then I reread. This is usually when the bigger things start showing up, the character arcs and relationship-building. Some of that is already present, but it isn’t until I’ve got the whole thing in front of me that I actually start seeing the patterns. I try not to edit straight in the text at this point (which is why I often put the file in epub on my ereader, so I don’t get tempted) and take notes about general trends. Detailed editing is later.

(sidenote: fanfic needs less character building than original fiction, but you still need character development. if you’re writing an actual long thing instead of series of vignettes or one-shots, the way the characters are at the start can’t be the way they are in the end. Something’s gotta change, both in terms of characterisation as in relationships, otherwise you’re just going to end up with a boring story.)

And once that’s done, the process starts over, basically. Based on the notes, I start writing missing scenes and shuffling around scenes again if needed, and while I’m at it, I also try to edit the more detailed things. Said editing process keeps going until right at the end: I line-edit in AO3 one last time, just before I post, with the chapter copy-pasted from words straight into the drafts there.

Is this an efficient, logical or neat system? Fuck no. But it’s the only one that works for me, and I’ve gotten some good results with it.

It is, however, a rather intuitive system, because I know roughly how stories work, how tension and character building works etc. When I read, I tend to sense where it needs a cliffhanger, or a spanner in the works, or a big dramatic reveal. If you don’t have that sense (which honestly, I think you can only get if you read/watch/consume shitloads of fiction) you’ll need a way more structured approach - but those have never worked for me, tbh.

TL;DR

Phase 0: have an idea. can be as vague as you want, but try to know the beginning, middle and end of the story.

Phase 1: just fucking write. give no fucks about writing ‘complete’ scenes, just put it down on the page, even if it’s just a dialogue fragment. try to put things roughly in the right place but don’t spend too much thought on that. Put all your energy into imagining things, and then scribbling them down as soon as possible before you forget them again.

Phase 2: shuffle. Move the scenes around until you’ve got an idea what happens and in what order. Don’t bother edting. Just try to get one coherent plotline going.

Phase 3: read-and-write. Start from the beginning and walk yourself through the story, writing as much connective bits and embellishing everything you can.

Phase 4: read-and-check. Read your story as if you were a reader, not the author, and try to see if it makes sense, what the characters’ arcs are, what the story tension is like, and what’s happening plotwise.

Phase 5: Adjust accordingly, ie Rinse and repeat.

#Anonymous #Writing #Writing 101

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bewaretheidesofmarchyall · 4 years

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Soulmate Shenanigans

So, lucky me, I found this list of prompts!

Unlucky me, it was for a September event. Surprise, surprise, this is not September

That isn’t going to stop me from doing this, though!

So, without further ado, prompt number one!

Your Soulmate’s name is written on your wrist or palm

Warnings for death mentions galore and drowning, as well as something that isn’t drug use, but if drug use is a triggering topic for you I wouldn’t recommend you read

Not as angsty as these warnings would suggest, but there is still Angst

I don’t know how it got angsty I just work here

World building

The first recorded instance of a palm mark was when Lady Natalia of Venice nearly drowned in a canal

She’d been on her way home from a party alongside her fiance when she “tripped” (the word “tripped” here means “Was pushed by her fiance for financial reasons”) into the river. Her husband-to-be quickly exited the scene, leaving her to be weighed down by her skirts and die.

Angela (forger of swords and mixer of poisons, just happened to be in the neighborhood when she heard a scream and a splash) had other plans. She dove into the water, saving Natalia and cutting her hand in the process.

The two women spent a good deal of time together after that, the scientific Natalia claiming that she only wanted to know why her name was on Angela’s hand.

Some historians claim that the two were platonic soulmates. While this is possible, and platonic soulmates have a long and wonderful history, no one with common sense believes this to be the case

They exchanged love letters that were quite clear that the attraction was a romantic one.

Some historians also claim that there isn’t enough evidence to suggest that they killed the fiance.

Those historians are wrong.

Anyway, in modern days 97% of the population has a palm mark with the name of their soulmate

The tattoo industry has never had so many illegal opportunities

When your soulmate dies, the name doesn’t scar. It doesn’t blister, burn, or black out. All that happens is a thin, impersonal line crossing their name out. Some people don’t notice who they lost for days.

There’s a process to remove palm marks. However, it’s illegal and possibly fatal for the soulmate being removed.

Our Characters

Roman: Roman was confused by the name of his soulmate.

Who names their kid “Janus”?

Am I soulmates with a roman deity? The heck?? SO MANY QUESTIONS AND SO LITTLE ANSWERS

Roman was so excited to have a soulmate. He kept entire journals filled with things he wanted to tell Janus, part diary, part scrapbook, and part love letter. He would doodle hearts around his palm mark.

One night, in April, Roman went to sleep. In the morning, there was a line across his palm.

His soulmate had died, and he hadn’t even seen the line drawn. He broke a little.

Enough said.

Roman took the passion that he’d had for his Janus and channeled it into his acting. If he couldn’t get love, he’d get a fucking Tony Award.

Remus: Remus had been annoyed by his brother’s complaining.

“Oh, boo-hoo, my soulmate has a rare name. That means that as soon as I meet him, I’ll know exactly who he is! Roman, DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE NAMED LOGAN”

Remus was annoyed that his soulmate had the audacity to have a common name. In theory, he could date all of the 18,000 Logans in the country, but does he really have the time?

He and his brother bicker about this for a solid seven years, until the argument abruptly ends. Ever since then, he’s been on his brother’s side in everything he can.

Logan: It made total sense for Logan to not have a soulmate.

His soulmate would have been unlucky, being stuck with a know-it-all like him, at least according to most of the people he knew.

This was a simple solution to the puzzle.

It wasn’t helpful to waste time wishing for a different one.

Janus: Janus had a whole plan for when he met his soulmate.

He wrote it down in 10th grade

Step 1: Wear gloves

Step 2: Find Roman

Step 3: Say something witty

Step 4: Remove gloves, revealing palm

Step 5: This little mystery is over and done with, and hopefully my soulmate isn’t boring

This was how a lot of Janus’s plans would work. Solid ideas, but missing bits and important pieces. This includes his heist plan he scribbled out on a napkin on an April day.

Step 1: Find local con-artists

Step 2: Pretend to be a person with money (which I obviously do not have)

Step 3: Scam them

Step 4: Don’t get murdered on the way out

Step 5: Profit

He pulled off steps 1-3 with ease, but step 4 proved to be a sticking point.

As he escaped via the river, with money in his hands and a “so long, suckers!” on his lips for drama, he thought nothing could go wrong

Fun fact: It’s rather common for con artists to fatally give away their positions by yelling “so long, suckers!”. Just ask Odysseus as he sailed away from the Cyclops.

The con artists shot wildly at his boat, blowing it to pieces. As he went down with the ship, he barely had enough time to think this can’t be happening, and fuck this and I’m going to die at the same age as Philip fucking Hamilton and I really don’t want to go to hell before his lungs filled with water and his heart stopped.

And Janus died.

For a solid two minutes.

Technically, death is when your heart ceases to beat. Even though people have been revived after their hearts have stopped, it is death, and enough to draw a line across a sleeping Roman’s hand.

Janus, however, was saved by an old man, who dragged him out of the river and forced the water out of his lungs. The old man took one look at the teenager and decided that he needed better role models, which is how Patton took Janus under his wing and saved his life in more ways than one.

The Actual Plot

Roman is in a city production of Hamlet. His brother is in the audience, his friend is fixing the lighting, and he’s ready to go.

It’s a pretty good performance, by all accounts, but especially according to Janus.

He’d already been watching the main actor intently, smiling from the mezzanine, but he was even more intrigued when he read the playbill and realized his name was Roman. He could barely pay attention to act five as he planned out the lies he’d tell to get backstage.

Somehow, he didn’t get caught sneaking around, and managed to catch a glimpse of Roman’s hand in a mirror. Janus. He really is his soulmate!

Janus walks over to Roman, says something that isn’t as witty as he would have liked (but not as bad as it could have been), and removes his glove.

Now, he expected his soulmate could have a variety of reactions. He didn’t expect Roman to yell “Not today, ghost!”, throw a prop skull at him, and sprint out of the theater. Janus caught a glimpse of the line through his name.

He was reasonably sure that he wasn’t dead? He could see his reflection in mirrors, he could consume salt, people tended to notice his existence!

Jan didn’t have much time to mull over this, as he was about to be forcibly removed from the greenroom. Logan just wanted to fix the lighting and live his life, but when strangers break into the backstage and upset Roman...

Jan skedaddles as Logan chases him out of the building. The nerd has almost caught the intruder when he runs directly into a man in a green jacket holding a coffee cup full of ketchup

Why did he have a coffee cup full of ketchup?

Remus and Logan bicker as Janus escapes. When Remus realizes Logan’s name, he asks a few questions, but Logan quickly shows his two blank palms, and the matter is settled.

Everything seems over and done with.

Meanwhile, Roman is freaking out. His mind is essentially in a loop of The fuck? The fuck? The actual fuck? He’s completely unsure of what to do. Is he seeing ghosts? Does he only believe he’s seeing ghosts? Is he sane or not?

Remus checks up on his brother at around 3 am, only to find him, exhausted, and writing in his old soulmate journal. Roman tries to explain what just happened, but the narrative told isn’t exactly coherent. All Remus can gather is that

1. His brother thinks that his dead soulmate is alive

2. This is because some guy snuck backstage and told him that he was the dead soulmate in question

3. This was probably the guy Logan was chasing

Remus convinced Roman to go to sleep, and walked out of the apartment with blood on his mind. He was sure that his brother was being manipulated.

This guy might not be dead now, but he would be soon.

Meanwhile, Janus proves that he can, in fact, cross a salt circle, so he must be alive! Right?? He also can’t get a certain actor out of his head, and wonders what his next move should be.

Remus recruits Logan to help him do some investigation in case Shady Liar Dude shows up. They go on several stakeouts together, in equally improbable locations. Maybe the two of them got too far into the secret agent aesthetic. Logan had always wanted to be a detective as a kid.

They fall for each other, and fast

Roman is spiraling, and a chat with Remus has him convinced that he was wrong, and Janus really is dead. He curses himself for believing in the pretty fairy-tale. Yes, because love wins in the end and they all live happily ever after. He has a performance tomorrow.

And it’s really time he got rid of the old scar.

You don’t hang around Remus without knowing where the black market locations are. It’s relatively easy to find the cure for palm marks.

He paces around backstage, holding a journal in one hand and a small bottle in the other. The warning that destroying the palm mark destroys the soulmate causes terror to rise in his throat, even though he knows that Janus is dead and can never read his love letters no matter how many stars he wishes on.

He finally makes his choice when Remus and Logan visit him before the performance. They give him looks of pity. He doesn’t want to be pitied.

According to the label, effects should take place over the next several hours. So, he waits for Janus’s name to disappear from his hand.

Janus managed to hustle someone with orchestra seats for their tickets. Despite not getting off on the right foot with his soulmate, he isn’t going to let him go that easily. And Roman’s brilliant performance that night just reinforces that. If he was good weeks ago, he was a star now. Janus was transfixed.

When the curtain call came, Janus was the first on his feet for a standing ovation. Remus and Logan noticed him, and pushed their way through the applauding audience. Both of them almost hoped that he’d get away again so they could continue spending time together.

Roman notices him. They lock eyes. Janus waves as though to say Hi, I’m here, apologies for the awkwardness of our meet-cute, but coffee? Roman gives him a look of disdain, as if to say I can’t believe I thought you were my soulmate, you con artist. He intends to look away and bask in the applause, but before he can do that, Janus collapeses.

Roman is confused at first, and then it clicks. That’s his soulmate. That’s his Janus.

And he killed him.

Pandemonium breaks out. Roman leaps off the stage, Remus freezes in panicked comprehension, the crowd scatters, and several people try to reach the dying man.

Logan gets there first. His mind scans memories of hours spent in libraries, researching everything there is to know about palm marks. Why didn’t some people have them? How did you lose them? How could you get them back?

He instructs Remus and Roman to help carry Janus to the greenroom.

They race him there, everyone in a state of panic (including Logan, but more importantly he has a job to do). Logan tells Remus to run and get a few basic ingredients, and they wait. Time moves much too fast and much too slow, until he comes back.

Logan works chemical wonders, piecing together Roman’s hand until everything is stabilized.

A vicious scar, the type you’d except if your soulmate was really gone, forms on Roman’s palm, and it will stay there for the rest of his days.

Janus comes back from death’s door for the second time.

After The Drama

Logan and Remus eventually move past the “but I don’t have a soulmate” “and yet I still am in love with you” dithering and go on a date that isn’t for the purpose of stalking a supposed stalker.

They go to the aquarium.

Meanwhile, there’s a lot to work out between Roman and Janus. From “wow, you’re not dead” to “wow, I nearly murdered you”, we don’t have time to unpack all that.

But they do get coffee. And they talk.

Soulmate stuff! I really like soulmate aus, despite not liking to write straight up romance

It’s weird

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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100 Days of Writing: Day Sixty-Three

I decided to catch up on The 100 Days of Writing and then I... accidentally wrote a large number of words. In my defense, this is like 2 weeks’ worth of questions. Also I skipped the ones I didn’t have anything to say about so actually this could be worse.

(I’m not even kidding, this is really long. I talk about writing rituals, tools for plotting, my thoughts on opening with dialogue and why I don’t like it, my favorite topics, the weather, and what length of fic I like to write.)

I’m tagging, and apologizing to, @the-wip-project and fellow participants @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold, @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @easilydistractedbyfanfic, @dylanobrienisbatman, and @fontainebleau22.

Day 49: How do you get yourself in the mood to write? Do you have a ritual?

Every time I tell myself I’m going to get back into doing these questions, I see this one in my bookmarks and go nope! and turn around. It’s not a hard question; I’ve just been having trouble consistently getting into the mood to write, so I feel like any answer I try to give to it will be, in some sense, a lie. Like do I ever get “in the mood” to write? Really?? Also, I feel like I’m relying too much on ‘ritual,’ building up ‘the perfect writing situation’ in my head, which at the end of the day is less important than just saying ‘I’m going to do this now’ and then doing it.

I do have some things I always do when I sit down to a writing session. I write on my couch. Almost always (unless I’m on an event deadline where I just have to write in bits and pieces whenever possible), I write in sprints—I use write or die to keep me actually typing and not staring into space. I write in order, and I often write a whole scene at a time. So before I start I need to have at least a couple solid opening sentences in mind, plus some kind of idea about what happens/needs to happen in the scene. In order to get in the right headspace, I usually spend some time just thinking before I actually get to writing. I reread my outline or notes, and skim whatever I might have already written on the project. Sometimes I look at images that help me get in the right mood. Sometimes I just imagine or daydream for a bit. The difficulty, especially recently, is in making sure I do this just enough and not too much, because then I get too caught up in my head and I can no longer translate what I’m seeing into words.

In a broader sense, I also have a building up to writing ritual—again, I think this is part of my problem, that I don’t know how to balance this build up with actual writing. In the hours/days before writing something, I turn it over in my head a lot. I practice different versions of those critical opening sentences. I play it out like a fantasy just to see if there’s a possible flow, even if the final version is different. Basically, I try to turn it into something that just needs to be written, that just needs to get out. But again—this can lead to overthinking and frustration.

The best way I can describe writing for me is that, when it goes well, I find a rhythm, or enter into a zone, where I can describe the images in my head in a way that’s both accurate and pleasant to read. But entering that zone or finding that rhythm is like jumping into a game of jump rope. If you don’t do it right, you’re just going to trip over your feet and get tangled in the rope. But if you do it correctly, it’s fun and exhilarating and you can keep jumping for a long time. Sometimes it takes me some false starts to jump in. And recently I’ve been having days where I just can’t at all, where I tangle the rope up so much I can’t unknot it. Those are the days I just have the same sentences repeating over and over in my head, sounding wrong, and I can’t do anything about it. On the other hand, I write in much longer sprints than I did a couple years ago. I used to only write partial scenes, maybe a few hundred words. Now I can write whole scenes without stopping, and on a few occasions, I’ve written multiple scenes or even whole stories without stopping. So in other words, when it works, it really works. But it doesn’t always, and there’s not a lot of in between.

Day 50 What fic/story made you?

Um… honestly I’ve been writing, in general and fic specifically, for such a long time that I didn’t have a ‘maybe I can do this’ moment. I mean one problem I’ve never had is thinking I can’t do this. I had positive reinforcement for my school and academic writing, and for a long time my fictional stories were just for me, and I knew what I liked. Even just thinking about my fic writing… I’ve been posting fic online since 2006, and I’ve been in multiple fandoms. I don’t really have much connection to a lot of those early stories anymore. They feel like they were written by someone else, a little. I’ve also moved on from most of the fandoms I wrote for in my early fic days so I don’t feel like I can really judge them anymore.

That said… there is kinda an obvious answer for my Star Trek fic lol. I also have favorite stories, and stories that stick out even years after I wrote them, in all (or at least most) of the fandoms I’ve been in. But I’m not sure if that’s the same.

Also, I had two teachers who were really encouraging of me and who I still think about often. One was my seventh grade English teacher, who had us do a lot of writing exercises of various types, both large and small, including keeping writing journals we wrote in every day at the start of class. He once told my mom that I wrote well, not for a seventh grader, but in general, and to be honest I still think of that with some regularity and take a lot of pride and comfort in it. The other was my creative writing professor in college. I don’t think I did my best work for that class, but she was very encouraging and seemed to like what I did. At the end of the semester, as I was preparing my portfolio, she told me that if I didn’t want to do much editing, I didn’t have to, because my unedited work would stand on its own. Again, especially considering all the problems that I saw with my writing for that class even then, I really took that comment to heart. When I’m feeling very self-critical, I remind myself that even my raw scribblings have, perhaps, something to them, and it helps ease the excessive and unwarranted pressure I put on myself. These aren’t really stories about specific writing pieces that ‘made’ me but I do think they speak to that ‘maybe I can do this’ feeling.

Day 51: Do you use tools for plotting and what are they?

So, generally, no. Sometimes I’ll look at various writing/plotting/organizational tools as a method of distraction, but my actual process is very simple. I use plain old notebooks and pens, and word documents on my computer, to plan all my fics, from the one-shots to the multi-chapters. I start by writing down general thoughts and brainstorming, then I build a scene list and/or outline, and then, if necessary, I separate the scenes lists into chapters. Sometimes I break down the scenes even more, if I have additional ideas I don’t wan to forget or if I know I need to hit certain points in a specific scene. The process varies a little bit from project to project, but that’s basically all I do.

I did use Evernote to plan the (still unwritten….) Ark AU. I don’t know if that was the best program choice or if something else exists that would have more precisely met my needs. But that’s what I used and that’s how it is. It’s a little annoying that every time I open it, it’s been updated, and the interface looks totally different and I have to relearn where everything is. But the tagging system has worked decently to allow me to see the big picture of this complex, multi-strand, multi-character, multi-ship disaster epic of a story. I struggled to plot it for a long time because I didn’t know how to balance all of the different parts. In Evernote, I made one ‘note’ for each character, and one for each scene (in addition to miscellaneous notes about sub plots, relationships, questions, etc.). Then I tagged each of them, including tagging the scenes by chapter. So now I can look at a list of all the characters, or all the scenes, or all of the scenes in chapter 8, or whatever, but I can also look at just one particular note at a time, and not be distracted by anything else. That said, I do also have one note that is just a total scene list for the whole fic, which is pretty reminiscent of my usual outlining process.

So… somehow this helped me plot (tentatively) the whole thing, but as I’ve written almost none of it—I finished outlining this in February 2020 so in my defense… I think you can see why it stalled—I’m not yet sure if it was a successful experiment in a ‘plotting tool.’

Day 60: How do you start your chapters? Do you start with dialogue? Why or why not?

While I am definitely against prescriptive “writing rues” generally, as my own personal rule, I try not to start with dialogue unless I have a very good reason.

To be quite honest, I think it’s lazy. I do think that dialogue openings can be used well, if the writer acknowledges that they are intensely stylistic and, from a reader’s perspective, quite difficult. Even within fanfiction, where a line of dialogue (especially if accompanied by a dialogue tag or swiftly followed by a reference to the speaker) gives a lot more information to the reader than in original fiction, opening with dialogue still shoves the reader directly into the deep end of the scene, with very little to orient her. WHERE is the speaker? WHO is being addressed in the dialogue? WHAT is the context of the conversation? Who ELSE might be present in the scene?

There are reasons you might want to throw the reader in the aforementioned deep-end. Maybe it’s an in media res situation and you want to emphasize the overwhelming nature of the action—starting a scene with “Get down!” for example. Or maybe the overall mood is one of disorientation or floating or uncertainty, and you want to create the same effect in the reader.

But I think if you’re starting a scene with dialogue because that’s the first thing that comes to mind for you—the person who conveniently already has the setting, character list, and even future plot already in mind—and it’s just simplest and easiest to start that way, you’re doing a disservice to the reader.

For example, I actually am planning to start the next chapter of the Sleeping Beauty AU with dialogue. My POV character is in a room with multiple other characters, and she’s examining something meaningful to her and not fully listening to the conversation around her. So I want the dialogue to float around in the background, to feel unmoored, and to stand in contrast to the very precise, detailed thoughts and memories that she’s experiencing, which are grounded in physical sensations like touch.

I haven’t quite gotten it to work yet, though, in part because opening with dialogue and doing it well is, in my opinion, quite hard. The difficulty lies in alleviating the challenges the reader is experiencing and making the text fluid and easy to picture. You need to get all of that scene-setting information—the who, what, when, where, and why—in very quickly, but without being jarring. In this scene in particular, I have multiple characters, all in a comparatively unusual location, and I need to establish where they are, who exactly is there, how they’ve come to meet my POV character (which happens ‘off screen’ between the end of Ch5 and the beginning of Ch6), all on top of the character’s thoughts and feelings.

I know all of this very well. To picture the scene in my own head takes only a moment. I just think about it and I see all seven of the characters, where they’re sitting, how they’re positioned, what their facial expressions are, and I also know roughly what each of them is thinking and feeling. To describe all of this in words would take several sentences. Do I put all those sentences on the front end? Do I weave them in among other description and dialogue? Is all of it even necessary—maybe we don’t need to know who’s sitting in what order on the couch, for example.

I’ve gone over a couple of different ways to do this in my head, and I’m sure it is possible, but I’m struggling to get it all down in a coherent way. (Admittedly, I’ve only made one solid attempt. As I was describing above, I’m probably going to jump in with several false starts, and then it will suddenly click.)

My initial attempt to set up the scene relied heavily on dialogue, but when I read it over, what sounded snappy and interesting in my head just fell completely flat—because it lacked context and thus, any meaning. I think the gulf between how dialogue openings feel to the writer and how they feel to the reader is large. To the writer, they feel easy and natural. To the reader, they can feel forced and, contrary to the writer’s intention, serve as an additional reminder that this is a constructed narrative rather than an immersive experience—the opposite of natural. In other words, as I said, they’re a highly stylized form of writing.

To illustrate, this was my first try at the Chapter 6 intro:

"I still can't believe it," a lightly awed voice says from somewhere behind Clarke. "The Princess of Alpha Station really used to live in our quarters.”

She pictures Miller, sunk into the couch cushions, slowly shaking his head, the expression on his face equal parts satisfied and amused.

"Really? That's what you think is the oddest part of all this?"

"Yeah, Bry, I do. Would you prefer I gloat? About being right this whole time? Who says she's just a legend now?"

My current idea is to still start with dialogue, but to move back into a significant amount of description pretty immediately afterward, and only then add more dialogue. Even this is a little hazy, since I haven’t thought much about this fic in a while. But I do think it’s quite clear this won’t work.

As for how I DO start chapters/scenes/stories… I like to start with a strong image that sets the scene and mood of the story, and hopefully leaves the reader wanting to know more. Here are some examples of story openings I’ve written recently, which I like a lot:

When Bellamy is angered, deafening bouts of thunder shake the heavens.

The cawing of the crows—high, sharp, angry shots of sound. The buzzing of the telephone wires.

Marcus Kane's body shows up again in June, skeletal and rotting, six months after his disappearance at the turn of the year.

The sky has turned a bruised yellow, like the inside of a plum, by the time Bellamy starts seeing the robots in the fields.

At noon on the third-to-last day before Christmas, Murphy leaves the cafe, with a single peppermint mocha and a small paper bag, and heads right, walking parallel to the ocean.

The last one doesn’t seem as interesting but consider: you get the who, what, when, and where, the mystery of the paper bag and where he might be going, and also the immediate understanding that this is probably going to be a Fluffy Beach Christmas story—which is correct, that’s exactly what it is.

I’m not saying that I’m always creative or unique. I often start stories off with descriptions of the weather. And I have committed the ~~cardinal sin~~ of starting with a character waking up, heaven forbid. I don’t have any hard and fast rules for myself other than that I try to avoid dialogue, or at least, be careful about its use (another example: I use dialogue to start off Mad Women—but it reads like narration, until it’s rudely interrupted, a sort of in-joke/reference/twist). I try to match the mood of the story and, as I said, include something that will create a question for the reader, some version of why, that the rest of the story will answer.

Day 61: Do you describe the weather? Try changing a scene you wrote by adding weather effects.

After writing a book for the last question, here’s an easy one! Yes, I describe the weather. A lot. Often. In detail.

(Though if we’re talking about the Sleeping Beauty AU as my “current wip,” I actually don’t do much weather describing there, because 4 of the 6 chapters take place in a location with no weather.)

Day 62: What is your favorite thing to write about?

Honestly I like to write about people being dramatic about their emotions. That’s what I’ve discovered while writing my surprisingly self-indulgent Troped fic: I want to describe people acting as if Everything was the Most Ever. It’s fun. Part of this is getting into the usual romantic tropes—longing, pining, exaggerated touches and glances and the like—but why stop at romance when you also have stuff like The Weather and Random Feelings to contemplate?

I also like setting scenes that I find soothing, which is part of why I like Seasonal Stories.

Day 63: Are you more of a drabble/flash or a longfic/novel kind of writer?

I’m in the middle. I mostly write one-shots, and I’ve noticed that a lot of them fall in the 4-6k range. Long one-shots can get all the way to 10-12k but I feel like most of those are, semi-objectively speaking, too long, and would probably have been stronger if they were pruned down to 6k, or, better yet, never made it past 6k in the first place.

I have written some multi-chapters, or, uh, started multi-chapters, but I’m VERY bad at it. The only thing that makes me slightly less bad is being stubborn. Hence the existence of a WIP that I’ve had going for over 10 years now and refuse to call abandoned. Hence this year’s extended angst about the Sleeping Beauty AU, which is only 6 chapters but has taken me literally years to write. I don’t honestly know if I’ve ever finished a multi-chapter WIP, like, properly speaking. I’ve done some short multi-chapters that I wrote as if they were one-shots and then split up for ease of reading or, I dunno, just because. I wrote a Big Bang once, but it’s not very good. Nor very long, if I remember correctly. Generally speaking I probably shouldn’t be allowed to write novels lol—I have a lot of them in my ‘I should write this one day’ idea list—but as it so happens, no one can stop me, so here we are. I definitely have wild fantasies of writing multi-chapters with ease but I’m just a very slow writer and my ideas can’t keep up with my actual-writing. Thus one shots are much easier than multi-chaps, and one-shots on a deadline are much easier than ‘I’ll finish this whenever’ one-shots. One-shots written for events or exchanges also tend to be shorter (and, imo, better) because of the deadlines they’re written on, and are thus more likely to hit that sweet 4-6k spot than stories where I’m allowed to ramble at will.

All that said, I ALSO write a good number of drabbles/writing exercises. I used to write them more often than I do now, but still over the last five years I’ve produced 110,000+ words in free-standing scenes so like… that’s also a thing I guess.

#100 days of writing #my 100 days of writing #100daysofwriting

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cross-d-a · 3 years

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fic tag game

aaahhh @vishcount thank you for tagging me!!! These are so fun and I adored reading about your fic journey~! ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ ❤

OH as a note!! For the ppl I tag at the end I don’t expect you to read all of this bc it’s A Lot!!! but I figured you might want to do this game yourself? haha :)

Name: cross-d-a shortened version of my first ever username. unfortunately stuck with it now haha but i’m fond of it :p wish it was cuter tho!!

Posting the rest of this under the cut so it doesn’t eat up people’s dashes!!

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Fandoms:

oKAY YIKES there are....honestly too many too name. I’ve got a short and obsessive attention span so it’s either all or nothing with me usually. When I can stay in a fandom for a long period of time it’s a miracle. I’ll name the bigger ones that I’ve all written fic for! Even if I’ve never posted them haha

Right now I’m very firmly into Daomu Biji (dmbj). It feels like it’s both got a crap ton of content and yet barely anything at all haha. Maybe because the English fandom is so small. But at least there are a bunch of dramas and books!!! I really, really, really adore dmbj so much!! And a large part of that is the fandom!!! It's been a really cool and unique experience! Everyone in it is truly so kind and wonderful, and I’ve made some really incredible friends because of it (looking at you vish!! ❤). I’ve got a bunch of wips, but I’ve only posted two fics for dmbj!

Before this I was very into Guardian and mdzs. MDZS was my first foray into cdramas and Guardian’s Zhu Yilong really suckered me into watching more haha I also have fics for both these fandoms!

My very first fandoms were Fullmetal Alchemist, D. Gray-Man and Naruto. My very old ffnet account has fics for these and I’ve got a bunch of newer wips on my tablet. Then Star Trek, Twilight, BBC Merlin, Sherlock, Death Note, Harry Potter, How to Train Your Dragon, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar the Last Airbender and Marvel were a few of my main ones in high school. Plus a bunch of anime (like Fruits Basket! and Kuroshitsuji and Natsume Yuujinchou).

Then college hit and I renewed my childhood love of Tolkien (mainly lotr and the Hobbit), and Star Wars. I also found Teen Wolf! Then after college it was Stranger Things.

I find myself in a cycle of mild fondness and complete obsession with these fandoms haha I go back to Star Wars at least once a year!! Then I’m in the gffa hole for a few months. Marvel also reoccurs, depending on how interested I am in new content! Star Trek I always always always go back to. TOS is my comfort show and it will never fade from my heart ❤

But for now I’m stuck in cdrama hell and I love it

Tropes:

Time travel, found family, whump+hurt/comfort, fairytale-like elements, resurrective immortality (thanks to a “Nine Lives” Hobbit fic), CROSSOVERS

I’m a slut for all these things so they often worm their way into my plots haha

I also just- love weird premises. I think that’s the anime influencing me haha

Fic I spent most time on:

My series he leaves sand and stardust in my wake (main fic is hurricane on the edge of oblivion), I have...spent five years on now. I have done so much research for this fic it’s insane.

The premise is force ghost!Obi-Wan getting shunted back into his tiny 10 year old self. I incorporate a shit ton of legends and I try to stay as canon as possible. I basically want this au to feel like it’s 1000% plausible while still getting all my gay shit. It’s chock full of whump, redemption, found family, minor characters turning into major characters, and I’ve got slavery uprising on the mind, too. It’s just- everything I could ever want to explore in the Star Wars universe basically.

It’s my first big project. I started doodling and scribbling ideas in the margins of my notebook in my Scottish History class. I adore it so so so much. But, because of my hyperfixation and fleeting intense obsession with things it makes it- really difficult to consistently update. I leave it for months at a time and I am constantly guilt-ridden about it. Because it’s my baby and I have a lot of wonderful readers. I fear I’ll never be able to finish it. Especially since I’ve written so much and I’m still only in the beginning of it. ( ; A ; )

Also, I’ve spent so much time with Xanatos, Feemor and Bruck that they just feel like mine now. I can’t read any fics that involve them, it’s too strange. Which is a damn shame because I love them so much haha OH ALSO!! I think it’s the first really big fic to include those three?? So I’m very proud about that haha (I’ve had so many ppl comment about how they actually Give A Shit about these three and are Invested bc of me haha)

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written:

hurricane on the edge of oblivion (with nowhere to go) (Star Wars)

My long-term passion project. My love-letter to Star Wars, I suppose. Reading it now I feel like a lot of it is clunky or long-winded, but I think it really shows the foundation of my writing today :) Main characters are Obi-Wan, Xanatos Du Crion, Qui-Gon Jinn, Bruck Chun and Feemor. Eventually we’ll get to Maul, Savage, Feral, Shmi Skywalker, (more!) Ahsoka, Anakin and a shit ton of clones ❤

things we hunger for (Guardian)

My Ye Zun self-indulgent fic. It’s a time travel amnesia Weilanzun! Honestly has some of my fav writing I’ve ever done. It’s so soft and really indulges in the hurt/comfort. It gives Ye Zun the friends and family I think he deserves. Also, he gets to grow into a (mostly!) functional person and I adore him.

the beast that slumbers within your soul (mdzs)

Jiang Cheng centric fic!! I feel like all my favourite fics I’ve written are love letters haha. This is one def my love letter to Jiang Cheng. This fic possessed me for two whole days. I wrote 16k in almost one sitting. I went to sleep at 6 in the morning bc I couldn’t stop writing. And when I drifted off I kept thinking of new ideas so I’d whip out my phone and write down lines and notes. I- have never ever ever felt that way about anything. It was- insane. It felt insane. It was so amazing. I’m still riding the memory of that high.

Basically Jiang Cheng actually finds Baoshan Sanren and it turns out she’s a fox demon and Jiang Cheng is descended from wolves. It’s- okay I said the fic above this had my favourite writing?? That was a lie. This has my favourite writing I’ve ever done. It’s unfinished bc I am in dmbj hell but I am still excited about the next chapter which features Wei Wuxian’s pov!!

the whispers of spirits (dmbj)

My current passion project. In a way it kinda feels similar to hurricane? Bc multiple povs, incorporating different aspects of canon (we’ll get there!! I promise!), shit ton of research, etc. etc. I really really really love it for so many reasons. I’m basically taking all the things I was unsatisfied with in Reboot and Sha Hai and running with it. Found family and whump galore! It’s also a love letter to the women of dmbj who really deserve so so so much better.

Honourable mention to:

One Day (you’ll have given more of yourself than is meant to be taken) (Marvel)

This fic also kinda possessed me. I just- couldn’t get rid of the idea of a trans!Thor. And I mean a mtf Thor! It’s just? So many people look at Thor and go “that’s a Real Man.” Full stop. They never think there could be anything more, and it really really really bothered me. So I wrote out my feelings. I’m not trans. I don’t have that experience at all. I’ve had issues and confusion about my gender but nothing like this. I just wanted to do justice to this idea of Thor in my head. And I still feel a bit nervous having posted it. But I've gotten so many comments from people who really connected with what I’ve written? So I’m very very thankful I wrote it and it has a very special place in my heart. It’s a very cathartic fic.

Fic I spent least time on:

Probably we rise (Star Wars) and I think it shows haha. I wrote it in response to Dave Filoni posting a drawing of Ahsoka and Gandalf telling her “People thought I was dead, too, and look how that turned out...” So I incorporated Ahsoka (and Din and Grogu and Ezra!!!) into the ending of Rise of Skywalker, kinda explaining how I think they could all still be alive. :)

Longest fic:

hurricane is my longest fic (159k) but I’m kinda worried whispers will eclipse that.....

Shortest fic:

Of my posted ones it’s The Five Moments it Took Tony and Scott to Admit They Were Best Friends (and the first time they ever did), currently clocks at 1.6k. It’s unfinished tho so maybe that doesn’t count.... otherwise it’s we rise which is completed and 2k.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks:

hurricane overall has the most of all these. Though I don’t think hits counts as much bc it’s multi-chapter. If you discount multi-chapter stuff, most hits goes to my obikin smutfic Homecoming, bc people are horny af haha

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

If I had energy I’d like to rewrite the beginning of hurricane bc it feels so so wordy. I’d want to expand on One Day bc I really would like to write a whole series with trans!Thor. And like- I’d really like the focus to finish any of my WIPs.

Share a bit of a WIP: I really wanna share my Guardian/dmbj crossover that I started back in August. Bc I adore the idea of wu xie&shen wei&ye zun triplets! Plus time travel!!! I dunno if I’ll ever finish it tho ( ; A ; ) It just feels like a lot to deal with right now.

This scene takes place during the Mountain Awl arc. Guardian crew and desperado fam run across each other at the village! Wu Xie has recently found out that he’s adopted and he’s searching for answers in the area Sanshu originally found amnesiac!toddler!Wu Xie in :) Gonna pull two snippets bc I’m v excited and this might be the only time anyone else sees this fic haha:

“Oh?” Pangzi focuses on Yunlan now, lips twisting. “You think I’ve ‘got the wrong guy,’ huh?” He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “That’s rich! Are you that cocky or are you just stupid?”

Bristling, Yunlan drops his hands and scowls. “Excuse me?”

“Sir,” Shen Wei tries. “I think—”

Pangzi’s eyes snap back to Shen Wei, sharp and blazing. “How dare you fucking steal his face!”

What?

Automatically, Zhao Yunlan turns to Shen Wei, but the professor looks just as shell-shocked as Zhao Yunlan feels which- is seriously something. Since everything about Shen Wei is so carefully controlled, kept to the minimum. Except for those delightful little smiles that bloom across his lovely face, or the startled little bursts of laughter that fall from his lips. Or even when anger and frustration spark across his features, cracking his calm veneer open enough that he can see a glimmer of what lies beneath, the fire in those eyes. Zhao Yunlan delights in those moments, makes a game of making Shen Wei’s control slip.

He tells himself it’s nothing more than a game. Nothing more than trying to find out what makes Shen Wei tick.

Zhao Yunlan’s always been very bad at lying to himself. Or very good. Depending on who you’re asking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunlan splutters.

But before anyone can say anything else, a very familiar voice calls:

“Pangzi? What’s wrong?”

Yunlan can feel Shen Wei stiffen, and Yunlan himself is pulled to that voice like a planet in orbit, like the inevitable plummet to the ground.

Another shadow wavers in the doorway before it steps out onto the dirt. Light illuminates shaggy hair, limning it gold, sharply casting everything else in shadow. But as the figure nears, the contrast softens until Yunlan can see the newcomer’s face properly and- and—

“Wu Xie!” Pangzi growls. “We’ve got ourselves an impostor!”

The man wearing Shen Wei’s face steps up to them, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a sharp frown. He glances between them, eyes landing on Shen Wei. His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth, but then—

“Wu Xie?” Shen Wei breathes, all trembly and lost and hopeless.

Heart in his throat, Yunlan turns to Shen Wei again. Turns and flinches at that stricken look upon Shen Wei’s pale pinched face.

“A-Xie?” Shen Wei chokes. “Didi?”

and

Pangzi snorts. “Professor?”

“I-it’s true!”

Startled Yunlan swings his attention over to Jiajia who clenches her backpack to her chest, face screwed up in admirable determination. “P-professor Shen took me and Xiao Quan on a field trip to investigate an archeological site around here!”

“Oh?” Wu Xie drawls all slow and amused. “Well, what a coincidence. We’re archeologists, too.”

“With guns?” Yunlan bites out.

Wu Xie raises a brow, grin full of teeth. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“Right,” Yunlan drawls right back. “Are you a professor, too, then? You come here with your students?”

Wu Xie outright grins. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the men rolls his eyes. He’s the one with sharp features, glasses and looped earbuds. Does he think it’s appropriate to listen to music at a time like this? Yunlan admires the man’s gall.

aahhhh vish thanks so much again for tagging me!! This was so fun to relive my fic memories!! I’m gonna tag @alwaysaslutforshakespeare @jockvillagersonly @tehfanglyfish @lichelleme @undyingsunshine @humanlighthouse @thewindsofsong I’m curious about your guys’ writing and fandom journey!! As always, no pressure to actually complete this!! I just thought it was fun ❤

Wow if you read all of this I am very humbled and impressed, thank you!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

#cross talks #my fic #fanfiction #uhhh what else do i tag this as i dunno #about me #cross posts #wip fic

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travllingbunny · 4 years

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The 100: 7x01 From the Ashes

Disclaimer: This post is about the episode of the show The 100, From the Ashes, the season 7 premiere, and only about it. In this post, I will NOT be discussing any original scripts, unused takes, bloopers, behind the scene photos or videos, scribbled notes exchanged between the writers, or any tweets, Instagram posts, SMS or e-mails by any of the cast or crew members, considering the fact that none of those things constitute the show’s canon, which consists of the actual episodes.

I will also not be discussing anything about the future episodes posted by any ‘spoiler accounts’, and, in fact, I am unaware of most of these things, since I’m trying not to read any spoilers. Please do not tell me any spoilers for future episodes or ask me about them.

I really enjoyed this episode, in spite of the unfortunate lack of Bellamy (which I was already expecting since what happens to him here was already spoiled by the trailer. Of course, I’m looking forward to see Bellamy again, and, before that, to everyone finding out about disappearance and it becoming the focus of the season. But until then, the show has quite a few other storylines to deal with, from setting up and delving more into the Anomaly mystery, to dealing with the fall-out of season 6 in Sanctum, and both of these were handled well, for the most part.

This episode in particular had really good characterizations all around - for Murphy, Echo, Indra, Madi, Raven, Emori, Gaia, even Jackson - and, of course, Clarke, who had an arc that took her tendency to try to repress her feelings to an extreme, until they exploded in a most memorable way. It will cause her trouble, no doubt, but it was great to watch, and something I had been wishing for for quite some time.

There is just one character whose storyline I’m still not sure how I feel about, because I’m not sure what the show is doing with him.

After the last season’s cliffhanger, there was some concern in the fandom that Bellamy would regress to being all about protecting his sister, after their relationship had been redefined with “You’re my sister, but you’re not my responsibility”. Some of that was really exaggerated: there’s absolutely nothing odd or surprising about Bellamy crying over his sister disappearing in his arms. Of course he loves her and wants her safe. But I was concerned they may regress his development if they make him forget about everyone and everything else in his life in order to impulsively jump after her into the Anomaly. However, that did not happen - Bellamy didn’t decide to go on his own, rather than tell others and make a plan. He was taken.

The mysterious people from the Anomaly seem to be able to control the Anomaly, and have some sort of a cloaking device, presumably connected to their suits and helmets, that makes them invisible to others. They also have some sort of a screen inside their helmets, with facial recognition of targets and commands. It’s all a bit creepy - these seem to be humans, but they are receiving orders the way a robot would. (It’s all very Terminator-like!) Maybe because they also have lost their memories while going through the Anomaly? Where did they get the info about who Bellamy, Gabriel and Echo are - was it from Octavia’s memories?

Memories and memory loss are obviously going to play a huge role this season. People who come from the Anomaly to Sanctum seem to lose their memories, except when the Anomaly is still there. Does this happen only on Sanctum, or at the other side(s) as well? How does the fact that the Anomaly sucks in radio signals fit into that? Hope had to use a message she put into her own arm to remind herself to “TRUST BELLAMY”. (Interstellar is mentioned a lot as an inspiration for this season, but this reminds me of another Nolan film, Memento.)

We also see Clarke spout knowledge about how the big mansion was built (by Russell for Simone, to remind her of her house on Earth), which she would know due to still having some of Josephine’s memories. And I’m sure that the fact Madi still has the memories of past Commanders will play a big role - specifically, the fact she has Becca’s memories, which could be the way to tie the present day story to the prequel/story about what happened during and right after the apocalypse. (She also probably knows about Sheidheda more than anyone else alive, which may play into the Sanctum story.)

It’s too early to judge Hope as a character, but the mystery surrounding her is certainly super interesting. Why do the mysterious people from the Anomaly have orders to kill her on sight (as opposed to capturing, which they were supposed to do with Bellamy, Echo and Gabriel)? Is it because of who she is, or what she is - is it about her actions, does she know too much, or is her existence itself that’s the problem?

I loved the Octavia cameo in Hope’s hallucination, with the confirmation that she was an “aunt” figure to her, a part of a found family with Diyoza and Hope. The Anomaly makes you see your biggest desire or biggest fear - and Hope’s biggest desire seems to be to be reunited with her family

Echo’s hallucination, on the other hand, is obviously about her biggest fear - so it makes perfect sense that it’s Roan who appears to her, as he exiled her from Azgeda. Of course biggest fear would be losing her kru and her king/queen and being left alone and adrift. I’m as surprised as anyone that I found Echo's scene to be maybe the best in the episode. But she did have some really good character moments in seasons 6, and this is IMO her best character moment so far, picking up from her red sun hallucination in 6x02, and flashback from 6x11. which revealed that even her identity as “Echo” is fake. It seems the show is finally doing the character development it neglected to give her in season 5, and addressing all the obvious issues with Echo’s development and her relationship with Bellamy. I think this confirms that it was indeed Echo talking to herself while hallucinating Emori in 6x02, since her hallucination of Roan tells her the same thing, that she is still just a killer following another master’s orders. We finally see Echo feeling guilt over the things she did in the past, including her betrayal of Bellamy in season 3. When she imagines him calling her out on betraying “the man she now claims to love”, is it just about her thinking the others would doubt her love, or is she herself questioning whether her feelings for Bellamy are really romantic love, or just loyalty to her current leader? Their relationship, especially in S6, often came off more as the latter.

(It was also really cool to see Zach McGowan again)

The timeline of 7x01 seems to have confused some fans, but I think it’s pretty obvious that, at the beginning of the Sanctum story, no more than a day (probably less than that) has passed since 6x13 - going by the facts that 1) the Anomaly storyline picked up minutes after the end of 6x13, and the Sanctum story was presumably happening at the same time, and 2) Indra had to explain the situation in Sanctum to everyone. The only thing that seems to go against that is that Russell is said to “not have slept” since what happened on the ship, which makes it seem like it’s been longer. Or maybe Russell was just being extra dramatic. “Oh, I have no slept for a whole day!” He certainly spent a lot of this (his last) episode feeling sorry for himself. At least he seemed to have finally realized he wasn’t the superior good guy in all of it (”Tell them I’m treated better than I deserve” - yes, indeed.)

Indra was great, even though poor Adina was forced to be an exposition machine for a part of the episode.

A common complaint I’ve seen among fans is that it’s weird that Clarke and others in Sanctum aren’t worried about Bellamy and co. I don’t understand this complaint, as it’s clear that very little time has passed and that Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Gabriel must have told everyone they were leaving and why (though I don’t know how many details they told them about the Anomaly Stone). People have been gone for a whole day in season 6 when they just went to the Offering Grove (Echo in 6x06) or the radioactive shield (Raven, Emori and Echo in 6x05), which are within the confines of Sanctum and much nearer than the camp by the Anomaly. What are they supposed to do but wait for a couple of days for them to come back? It’s not like they can call them, when radios and other means of communication usually don’t work on Alpha because of the Anomaly sucking the signals.

In fact, their absence was mentioned in the picnic scene, when Raven toasted to “absent friends” and we got a reaction shot of Clarke (I know, Clarke, I'd be annoyed too if I was you, but Bellamy had to be all "I'm gonna go now and explore the Anomaly Stone while Sanctum is in chaos and you're in mourning for your mom" because the plot needed him to..., before Niylah toasted to the “departed ones” (which would include Kane and Abby) and we got a close-up reaction shot of Clarke trying to keep it all inside, as she did every time in this episode someone mentioned Abby.

The idyllic picnic by the mansion - everyone’s attempt to get some rest and nice time after everything they had been through - was such a contrast to the “powder keg” of Sanctum and the end of this episode. But it also felt fake - just as fake as the deception and lies that Murphy and Emori are Daniel and Kaylee Prime, or that Madi still has the Flame in her head - to keep the devout and Wonkru under control, respectively - and just as fake as Clarke’s attempts to convince everyone she’s “fine”. As usual, the song playing in the background (”Darkness” by Pinegrove) was very fitting:

Suddenly I find I've got darkness on my mind It's a question mark that keeps me looking And it's never satisfied And it's never what I thought Saying I'm happy when I'm not No, I got darkness on my mind Leaning out the frame When it's particulate and gray I'm perpendicular to my whole being When I lean a certain way Saying I'm happy when I'm not Finding roaches in the pot Oh, I got darkness on my mind Some people spend their whole lives looking For someone who could understand While meanwhile a lilac blooming Sometimes on the driest land And I know it's been a long time coming I'm angry and I know that's weak And I'm longing out that open window For whatever it is I seek [musical breakdown] Some people spend their whole lives looking For someone who could understand And while meanwhile a lilac blooming Sometimes on the driest land And I know it's been a long time coming I'm angry and I know that's weak So I'm trying not to be so bitter I'm just looking at it honestly Well, I know it's been a long time coming I'm angry and I know that's weak And I'm longing out that open window For whatever it is I seek Some people spend their whole lives looking For someone who could understand While meanwhile a lilac blooming Sometimes on the driest land, yeah

I like that there was anger, blame and conflict between our kru and that everyone didn’t just forget what happened last season (and for once, Clarke is not the one getting the blame!) It would've made no sense if no one was blaming Murphy, and it makes sense it would be Jackson, who was so close to Abby and who’s not particularly close to Murphy. It also makes sense there was disagreement about the method of keeping peace in Sanctum, and that not everyone would be happy with Memori cosplaying the Primes.

Murphy himself had a really good characterization in this episode - we saw his grief and his feelings of guilt. While he tried to defend himself when blamed that he didn’t know what Russell would do, when left alone, he blamed himself for various actions that led to it, which is something Murphy from a couple of seasons ago wouldn’t do.

It’s great to see Raven looking more like her old, pre-season 6 self, and even better to see that her self-righteousness has gone. She’s more like the old Raven but without the snarky b1tchiness. I’m glad that she got called out by Murphy on her “Miss Morality” role from last season (which never really made sense, pre-time jump Raven was never a moral compass of the group, she was smart, pragmatic and could be as ruthless as anyone).

Another major theme of the Sanctum plot were the new beginnings. Clarke pointing out season 3 feels like another world seems almost like the show going meta and pointing out to the audience how much Clarke and all these people have lived through and been since.What is Sanctum now after the Primes have been defeated, with Children of Gabriel coming back home and clashing with the Devout - brainwashed and loyal followers of the Primes, with the rest of the Sanctumites in between? How are Wonkru and the 36 Eligius prisoners going to start again on a new planet moon? (36?! Wow, so they really suffered heavy losses in that gorge, too, when there are so few left?) Can Grounders be without a Commander? Gaia without her religion? Can Madi be a normal kid, without the Flame - or is that even possible while she has to pretend to still be Heda? The title From the ashes seems to refer to that - and maybe the end of the episode means that you have to burn down the old beliefs and old idols to build something new?

Mothers and daughters were another theme. I liked that Madi mentioned her biological parents (well, mother) on-screen for the first time, since the fandom tends to forget about them and ignore them too often. Madi was unsuccessful in her attempt to make Clarke share her feelings with her - maybe because this conversation showed a big difference in how they see each other? Clarke thinks of Madi as her child, but Clarke has never had a child before, while Madi had parents and suffered their loss; Clarke assumed Madi was talking about her and what happened in S6, but Madi always calls Clarke “Clarke” rather than “Mom”, and tried to connect to her on the equal level, as another daughter who’s lost a mother. Maybe it’s exactly because Clarke sees Madi only as her child that she feels she must be “strong” for her all the time and not show grief.

There was an unexpected parallel between Indra and Clarke in how Indra also tried to suppress outward expressions of grief when her partner - Gaia’s father died, which clearly wasn’t healthy and caused a rift between mother and daughter. (I’m not sure about when that happened, i.e. when Gaia first decided to become a Flamekeeper. I guess it must have been before the timeline of seasons 1-3. So Gaia’s dad is probably not the man that Indra recognized in 2x15 as one of the Reapers? I’m still angry that we never got any resolution to that storyline and that the Reapers were forgotten after season 2.)

The one thing I’m not sure about is Jordan’s characterization and arc. I’m not sure what the show is doing with his exactly, and I’m afraid that they’ll try to leave it ambiguous just how much he is or isn’t brainwashed. 6x13 made it very clear that he has been “adjusted”, which Russell confirmed here, and Jordan’s “adjustor”, who was creeping behind him in the season 6 finale, was very present and active in this episode, and clearly still had a big influence on him. At the same time, we learn that Jordan does not believe in the divinity of the Primes - instead of that, his hallucinations made him see something connected to the mystery of the Anomaly, which Russell describes as something “greater” (almost like he has finally found God, of sorts, after all, which he talked about 236 years before when he first landed on Alpha)? The good news is that it means Jordan will have a role in the Anomaly story, rather than being the advocate for the Devout. What I’m afraid of is that the show will gloss over the fact that Jordan was brainwashed - whether or not he came to believe that Primes were gods, he certainly did a 180 from despising Primes as murderers, being outraged by their actions and knowing very well that Priya was not Delilah but someone who took over her body; to (just a few days later, after “adjustment”) spouting Prime propaganda about the “peaceful” society they had before the Bad People from Earth came (that’s the peace they had when they regularly murdered their people to steal their bodies, left babies to die, and made them go crazy and kill each other from time to time) and having some kind of attachment to Priya herself and her mind drive.

At least, I hope that Russell unceremoniously smashing the mind drive means we’re done with that storyline. I loved it, it was my favorite storyline of the show, but it’s time for it to be over. It makes no sense that anyone is still letting Russell keep his mind drive, for starters. When will they realize they need to destroy these things?

- Clarke’s way of dealing with grief over her mom’s death was certainly unhealthy - repressing her feelings even more than usual, trying to be calm, composed, logical, to do the things needed to keep peace. In her last scene in 6x13, Clarke was open about her grief with Bellamy, looking to him for comfort, finding comfort in his arms and his words. But now he’s absent, there’s no one else she can be that open and vulnerable with. (The only other person Clarke looked for comfort to was Abby.) It’s nice to see that she and Raven have mended their friendship with Raven, she is starting to develop a new one with Gaia over their mutual care for Madi, she has mutual respect with Indra, she’s known others - like Murphy or Miller = for years, since the Delinquent days... and they all want to help her, but she’s not opening up to anyone, not even Madi. She thinks she must be “strong” for all of them, and her Head and Heart are unbalanced - she’s repressing the latter, until she finally explodes.

I love the scene of Clarke finally losing it and beating up Russell (I had already seen it in the trailer, and it was my favorite moment) and then crying while holding Abby's clothes. I don’t know about anyone else, but I love seeing an angry, emotional Clarke, letting it all out, especially when it's anger at people she has every right to be furious at. We haven’t seen that from her since early season 3 (when she yelled and spat in Lexa’s face over her betrayal). It had bothered me for a few seasons that Clarke - who used to be vibrant and could be impulsive, angry, hold grudges, yell at people in seasons 1-2, had become so repressed and muted due to her constant self-blame. I’ve had enough watching Clarke look sad while other people keep yelling at her and blaming her. (The only other instance of Clarke being furious was her hurt and rage at Bellamy and the slap in 5x09, but that was more of a silent, “internally screaming” rage/hurt, which turned into Clarke being emotionally frozen for the next couple of episodes, until learning he was alive. When Clarke is keeping everything inside and not yelling, that’s when she’s in the worst emotional state.)

It is, however, so sad that she still blames herself, too, for her mother’s death, whispering “I’m sorry”, the same way she whispered after seeing her father floated.

My only problem with the scene of that stupid palace burning down is that "mistakes" is a serious real understatement for what Russell has done. I know, I know, this will cause a lot of trouble in Sanctum and Clarke will probably have to go back on some of these decisions to keep peace. But there’s really nothing morally wrong with deciding to execute Russell - not only does he deserve it, but he’s arguably even an exception from the general objection to death penalty, since he’s lived several times the normal human lifespan, by stealing other people’s bodies. And the palace burning down is a symbolic way to send the message that the old power structures are gone - which Clarke pointed out when she said there will be no kings or queens anymore.

Sheiheda taking over Russell’s, or rather his latest host’s body, wasn’t surprising, as that was the most popular theory. But it was cool to see Sheidheda’s creepy mindspace again and Sean Maguire as the original Russell. The bodysnatcher got bodysnatched. That’s something like poetic justice.

I just have to post this because it’s such a beautiful shot!

Rating: 8/10

#the 100 #the 100 season 7 #the 100 7x01 #from the ashes #clarke griffin #john murphy #jordan green #bellamy blake #echo kom azgeda #madi griffin #the anomaly

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

written in ink (cadnis one-shot)

Ever since Janis could read, she's known one of the biggest plot twists in Harry Potter. Not because she worked it out, but because it's been tattooed on her skin all her life. Her soulmate spoiled Dumbedore's death for her.

The AU where the first words you hear your soulmate say are tattooed on your body, Cadnis style.

Since she was old enough to read, Janis had wondered what her soulmate’s first words to her could mean. It’s pretty scary, especially for a kid, knowing that the first words you ever hear your soulmate saying will be about someone dying. She’s puzzled over who the future death might be even more than she has about who her future soulmate might be. She doesn’t want to ask her parents for fear it’s someone close to them, nor does she think to look it up at her young age and so for the first few years of her life her world is dominated by one, huge, unavoidable question; who in her future dies, and what they are to her soulmate.

But then she’s old enough to know about Harry Potter, and she doesn’t need to wonder any more.

Her soulmate tattoo, etched in black across her ribs, reads I just can’t believe Dumbledore died.

She got two pages into Philosopher’s Stone before she made the connection and flung the book across her bedroom, her eyes popping out of her head and her jaw on the floor. The first question on her mind is “what kind of insane author kills off the main character’s mentor?”, but soon she’ll learn that frankly, that is the least of JK Rowling’s problems. The second question is “so… my soulmate is into Harry Potter?”. And then the third question comes slowly, creeping into her brain with tentative steps and simmering excitement, “so when do I get to meet them?”.

She doesn’t get a quick answer to that last one.

It’s a bit of a pain really, having a major spoiler to everyone’s favourite book series permanently written on her body. For one, there’s always a surge of pity in her chest when she sees people with the books, oblivious to the impending death of a beloved parental figure. Like God’s cursed her with forbidden knowledge that places her above her classmates, where she can watch them live in blissful ignorance until they reach the fated book or movie or just Google it because they’re too impatient. Janis is denied that luxury, her knowing of events yet to come too much for her to even give the books a chance. They’re not worth the way her heart clenches painfully in her chest whenever the wise old wizard comes in.

Okay that was an exaggeration. There are far better books out there that she’s happy to read. But that doesn’t change how the words seem to burn on her skin. No one likes spoilers after all. So when she changes before PE it’s in half the time it takes the other girls and she covers it up with make-up during the summer. And then kids start to get nosy and what should be an intimate secret is tossed around carelessly, and she starts teaching herself the art of lying.

Regina’s the one who asks first. They’re 12 and it’s a sleepover and she’s sprawled across her bed, her chin resting on her closed fist, her eyes glinting dangerously in the half-light.

“Okay Janis. Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she chooses. She’s not scared of dares, but she’s smart enough to know better than to take a dare from her.

“Okay,” she says, her lips curling into a sly smirk, one that makes Janis bite on the inside of her cheek and wish she could take it back. Sometimes she forgets how slippery Regina can be, especially on days like today when she’s been nothing but bouncy and fun and kind. She forgot that this side to her best friend even existed, the side that takes jokes too far and tries to pry Janis open like she’s a treasure chest. All that comes back to her when she tosses her perfect hair over her shoulder and raises her eyebrow, and she’s reminded that sometimes she doesn’t actually like hanging out with Regina.

She’s also reminded that she hates Truth or Dare.

“What does your soulmate tattoo say?”

“That’s private,” Janis reminds her, hugging the pillow tighter against her chest. “You’re only meant to tell your soulmate.”

“I know,” she scoffs, rolling off the bed and shuffling towards Janis. “But everyone tells people. And if you can’t tell me, your best friend, who can you tell?” Her tone is like the satin sheets on her bed, soft and comforting and familiar that Janis almost falls for it and tells her. Besides, Regina doesn’t even read Harry Potter, right? So it’s not like she would care… But other people might. And Regina might tell other people. Or Gretchen. Or Karen. Most likely Karen. And Karen could tell who-knows-who, who could tell who-knows-who, and then before she knows it she’s ruined Harry Potter for her entire grade. And then anything could happen to her. Taylor Wedell got her head shoved in a toilet for spoiling the end of Gossip Girl. And Janis really likes her head.

“I’m not telling, Regina,” she says, shrugging. “I’m sorry. That’s private.”

But there’s no word Regina George hates more than ‘no’. Her eyes narrow and her face falls into a pout even as she shrugs it off, telling Janis that she’s making a big deal out of nothing and if she won’t tell her that’s her problem. Janis tries to make it up to her, saying that she can ask anything else, but Regina won’t listen, deciding she wants to braid Karen’s hair instead.

They spend the rest of the night in a prickly silence and it takes a week before Regina returns to normal after that.

Damian is her next friend and he’s far better company than Regina is. He shows her his tattoo of his own volition, proudly extending his arm so she can see the words ‘can you do that again?’ written there in a rushed scribble. He confesses that he’s compared it with every other boy’s notes in their year, trying to see if he’s already met his other half and just forgot.

“I don’t think you can do that,” she tells him as they walk home from school one day, aged fourteen. “My mom said that when my dad first spoke to her it changed everything else. Like the minute she heard those words, nothing else mattered. She described it as some flower opening up in her chest.” She rolls her eyes a little, unsure if she’s inclined to believe all that. “It was really poetic.”

“Sounds beautiful,” he remarks, kicking up a pile of leaves. “Is that why you won’t tell me yours?”

“Sort of,” she sighs. “Hey, do you like Harry Potter?”

“I guess,” he replies. “I mean I’m more of a fan of the lore than of the books itself, what’s your house, I’m a Hufflepuff-”

It’s months later when they watch the sixth movie for the first time. The two of them on the sofa in Damian’s basement, Janis half-paying attention, half-working on a drawing. Damian is on the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and his hand slapping Janis’ leg every ten minutes. Despite telling herself she doesn’t care, she does, but it isn’t in the way Damian thinks she does. Her heart hammers against her ribs through the whole movie and nearly stops in every scene Dumbledore is in as she wonders if this is it, the moment she’s had carved into her skin her whole life.

She lets out a loud, relieved “finally!” when he eventually up and dies, prompting Damian to turn to her with his mouth open and his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling, a silent ‘Janis, what the fuck’ on his face.

And it’s then she tells him, tells him about the words on her chest and the secret she’s kept and how someone she’s never met ruined one of the biggest franchises in pop culture for her.

Damian laughs so hard his cat has to run over and check he’s not dead.

*****

Janis sits on her desk in the art room, studying her piece from every new angle she can find. Not many people are in, given that it’s only the second week of junior year, which gives her a space to work on her own. Thanks to her spending the better part of her freshman and sophomore lunch periods in here, the art teacher gives her free range over the place and leaves for her cigarette breaks when she comes in, telling her not to touch anything and help herself to the cookies in her drawer but not to tell anyone else. And with just two seniors in and devoted to their work, she sits on the desk, her foot on the chair and a paintbrush between her fingers, trying to find the right colour.

“Good morning starshine!” Damian sings, earning him glares from the seniors. “Ooft, tough crowd.”

“They’re trying to focus,” she tells him, handing him a cookie. Sure Miss Peters said not to give the cookies to anyone, but Damian’s not anyone.

“My apologies to them,” he says in a low voice, leaning against the table and taking in her newest piece, a mermaid with flowing black hair and delicate purple eyes, the little fangs on her mouth the only allusion to the danger she holds. “That’s cool.”

“You think?” she replies, pride thumping in her chest.

“I know,” he says firmly, a smile on his face and the kind of wholesome honesty that only moms, grandmas and Damian Hubbard know how. “Did you hear the tea?”

“What?” She avoids school gossip like the plague, knowing all too well how it feels to be on the receiving end, but if Damian is telling her it’s either important, completely harmless or hilarious.

“There’s a new girl in our grade,” he tells her. So it’s the first one. “The student activities committee was telling me. Apparently she moved here from…. Kenyaaaa…” He drags the ‘a’ out for as long as his mighty lungs will allow, wiggling his eyebrows for dramatic effect.

“That’s neat,” she remarks, secretly getting a kick of Damian’s wounded puppy ‘why aren’t you appreciating my dramatics’ face. It’s a little more than neat, new kids aren’t really common in North Shore, especially ones from Kenya. “What’s her name?”

“Katie Heron, apparently,” he says. He opens his mouth to say more but he’s cut short by the bell ringing, ending their free period. With a sigh, Janis places her picture back in her folder and tucks it under her arm. Damian skips along beside her, filling her in on the whispers of the drama department about the upcoming musical and telling her he’s secured a room for their LGBTQ+ club movie night on Friday. She chats along, suggesting some more movies to add to their list and agrees what snacks to bring and asks him to get a list of dietary requirements from everyone. The normal kind of stuff that she deals with on normal school days.

But in the very very back of her mind, the name ‘Katie Heron’ sticks, and she’s not entirely sure why.

As fate would have it, she sees the new girl at lunch. It’s pure chance, she just happens to look up at the right moment in the right direction and sees an unfamiliar face in the cafeteria. And quite frankly, she’s pretty. She’s tiny, impossibly tiny, as in a kind of tiny that should probably not be legal, with long, caramel-coloured hair, braided at the top and the rest falling past her shoulders. She’s not too far away from her and she can see the wide smile on her face, innocent and excited, dimples in her rosy cheeks, and while she can’t see what colour her eyes are, she can see them lighting up as she looks around the cafeteria. She stands out, even in her cargo shorts and plaid shirt. Like the rest of the cafeteria-including Janis- was drawn in pencil but she was drawn in pen.

There’s something in her gut, something pushing her to go say hi, maybe invite her to sit with them even though that wouldn’t be normal for her. Damian’s the one who does that anyway and she’s just the arm candy. There’s no reason she should single this girl out other than the fact that she’s new. And she looks a little lonely, wandering around tables, her neck craning for an empty seat. Maybe Damian can do the talking and she can just smile.

Janis very nearly does approach her. She pushes herself up and makes to head in her direction. But one thing, one crucial thing, stops her.

Regina. Regina slides up to the new girl with a beaming smile and a no-doubt sweet, breathy voice, touching new girl-Katie’s-shoulder and tugging on her arm, asking her to come have lunch when them at their table, all the way on the other side of the cafeteria. She happily agrees and Regina links arms with her and escorts her away from the art freaks and towards Plastic Land, where Regina’s word is the word of God. She can tell her anything and New Girl will believe her.

Janis slumps back down, a cold, heavy weight in her stomach. She scoffs at herself and shakes her head, no clue why she’s so upset, since she doesn’t even know her. Damian’s eyes meet hers and he pats her shoulder sympathetically, a ‘maybe next time’ said softly to her. But when she spies her at the Plastic’s table amongst the pink and gold, she wonders with a heavy heart if there will be a next time.

She crosses paths with the new girl three times in the following week. During that week she learns that her name is Cady with a C, a D and a Y, not Katie. She also learns that she’s taking AP calculus, she really likes math and that she used to live with animals. She also works out that she’s in her French class but was sick that day, and that the empty seat captured her attention more than anything their teacher said did.

She’s also learning that she might be becoming a stalker.

“So are you going to talk to her?” Damian asks her during gym.

“Why would I?” she replies, slowing down her pace once she’s out of the coach’s vision.

“Because you like her,” she replies, drawing out the ‘like’ for as long as his lungs will allow, as though the longer he says it the more Janis likes her.

“I don’t even know her,” she reminds him. “You probably know her better than I do.”

“Yes, and I know you better than you know you. So I know you like her.” She rolls her eyes, unable to find it in her to correct him. It’s not untrue. “I also watched you obsessively stalk her Instagram and Facebook accounts for a solid thirty minutes so...”

“Oh stop,” she scoffs, laughter in her voice. “You didn’t stop me so that’s 90% on you.”

“Oh so I have to steer you straight?”

“Well that would be an accomplishment,” she grins. “Considering.”

“Hubbard, Sarkisian!” the coach barks at them from the middle of the field. “Pick up the pace and stop the chatting or it’s two more laps!”

They speed ahead and lower their voices, privately discussing what they think of the coach and his new shorts and what they’d like to do to his head with those dodgeballs.

*****

By Friday, Janis has almost forgotten about her crush-that’s-not-a-crush on Cady. Well, she’s not forgotten it but she’s put it to the side. Well, not to the side, but it’s away for now. Well, not away but… Cady wasn’t the first thing on her mind when she woke up, so she’s calling it progress.

At least the LGBT+ movie night provides a welcome distraction. They only have the hall for the next few hours, just enough time for Pride and Love, Simon and finishing off with a few episodes of One Day At A Time, which is a cheat, since they’re not movies, but they’re the only thing short enough to fill the remaining time.

Janis takes charge of snacks while Sonja and Sophie argue with the IT guy over how to use the projector, Sophie’s hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, pulling her down when she gets too heated. Janis tries not to wonder if her girlfriend will do that for her one day. She’s trying to banish all thoughts of romance entirely, but Sonja is leaning on Sophie and holding her hand as they look at the computer together and it makes Janis’ chest ache and images of a certain brunette creep into her mind.

The more she tries not to think about Cady, the more she does, so much so that when the doors open and Cady jumps in with the Mathletes and their matching jackets, Janis is half-sure she’s imagining it.

And then she panics.

“Holy crap,” she whispers, slapping Damian’s shoulder again and again until he acknowledges her. “Damian, Damian, Damian!” There’s a knot in her stomach and a familiar feeling of being pulled towards her, like there’s an invisible rope around her waist.

“I see her!” he replies, grabbing her hand both to comfort her and stop her from slapping him again. His hands come around her shoulders, straightening her back and holding her up as Cady wanders over in their direction. Her eyes happen to find them and her face breaks into a smile, and for an insane moment, Janis thinks she’s smiling at her. Which would be ridiculous because they’ve never said one word to each other. The only reason she might smile at her is if she was being extra-friendly or if she was her-

No, she tells herself sternly. Not the S word.

“Oh, Janis, Damian!” Kevin hollers, jumping down the hall to them with the rest of his crew. Janis wipes her hand on her shorts, giving what she hopes is a normal smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey Kev,” Damian replies, offering a high-five.

“You guys met my girl Cady?” he asks, gesturing to her. Met is a funny word in this scenario. I wish is the response Janis thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

“We haven’t had the pleasure,” Damian replies, eyeing Janis and grinning. “Hubbard comma Damian. This is my amusing sidekick, Sarkisian comma Janis.” His introduction makes Cady laugh and it sounds like a bell ringing or part of a melody being played.

“We’re introducing her to American pop culture,” Marwan adds just as Cady is opening her mouth to speak. She closes it, a pleasant expression on her face but her hand is clenched into a tight fist. “But we need a break from Harry Potter. That’s too dark. We watched Half-Blood Prince and oof” He makes a cutting-your-head-off gesture with his hand, his features twisted into over-dramatic "yikes". Cady nods along enthusiastically and opens her mouth, a sense of urgency in her face, as though one might cut her off, and Janis is almost excited to hear her. Holy crap, is this having it bad?

“I just can’t believe Dumbledore died!” she exclaims. "I mean who does that?"

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

It doesn’t happen the way Janis’ mom described it. Rather than a flower blooming in her chest it’s a truck hitting her at full speed and sending her flying, her mind turning to static at those words and the pieces don’t even have time to connect in her brain before she yells-

“It’s you! You’re the one!” And at that, Cady’s mouth falls open and her eyes bulge as her hand flies to her forearm. For years, this girl has occupied Janis’ mind, and now she’s face to face with her, and in her most dire moment, rational thought has abandoned her. “You ruined Harry Potter for me!”

“Well… that’s not how I thought this was going to go down,” she mumbles, her pale cheeks turning pink.

As she comes back to herself, Janis looks around her, finding a face looking at her everywhere she turns. Some are amused, some shocked, some annoyed, some confused. But they surround her and the room starts closing in on her, making her feel like caged animal in a zoo, a spectacle for people to discuss over lunch. It’s a familiar feeling all right.

Her eyes meet Cady’s, terrified brown meeting bewildered blue and alongside the heavy cloud of embarrassment and the jagged anxiety, she feels a stab of guilt for doing this to her and it all threatens to crush her. So she does what feel most normal for her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she finds herself running towards the doors and out into the hallway.

“Janis, wait!” Cady calls after her, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floors. She catches up to where Janis is standing, taking in deep breaths and pulling herself back together. Cady hovers in front of her, unsure of what to do, which isn’t what Janis expected. Shouldn’t soulmates just know?

“Sorry,” she repeats, straightening up. “Sorry I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”

“S’okay,” she replies with a shrug, tapping her toe against the floor. She gives her an adorably sheepish look, one that makes Janis want to hold her tight forever. “Sorry I ruined Harry Potter for you.”

“Oh it’s fine,” she scoffs. “Seriously. Percy Jackson’s the superior children’s series. I wasn’t losing sleep over it.”

“I’ll make a note to read those,” she says softly, stepping a little closer to her. When she looks up at her, Janis feels it. The feeling her mom told her about. The flower opens in her chest and her worries begin to fade at the edges. Right now is the moment she begins hoping and daring to be brave, which is new for her. But there’s something, always something, or rather someone that looms over her and threatens it, even when she’s not physically here. She got her claws into Cady first and Janis can’t not be freaked out by that.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” she begins.

“I’ve not heard anything,” is what Cady replies in a firm voice. “Not anything worth repeating.”

“You haven’t?” Janis asks. The urge to pick at her nails rises in her. “Because… I know people-”

“Regina?” she says. She stuffs her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, her expression half-smile, half-grimace. “Yeah. She told me stuff. But…”

“But?” That makes her laugh again, and even though it’s soft and more of a breath, it’s beautiful to her.

“But you know… I’m not going to trust someone who uses slurs that freely,” she says, quirking an eyebrow. “Or who keeps a burn book about other people.” It takes a lot of self-control not for Janis not to hug her right now. Her anxiety dissolves almost entirely, replaced by feelings that are new and exciting and safe, above everything else. She feels safe with her. Maybe that’s what a soulmate means. Having someone be your safety net.

“You know…” she begins, sneaking a glance back inside the gym, where the movie has already started playing. “These things are great, but they seem to have it under control. Maybe you and I could go to the diner down the street? Get some milkshakes? Hang out? Talk a little?”

“I’d love that,” Cady replies, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling. She bites her lip and after a moment’s hesitation, holds out her hand. Her face is expectant but her fingers wiggle nervously. Her fingernails are painted green and on her wrist is a braided leather bracelet. Her hand looks soft and tiny and perfectly suited to hers, just like Cady herself, she supposes.

After more than a moment’s hesitation, Janis takes it, and nothing before has ever felt so right.

#cadnis #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #paint by numbers #mean girls ff #mean girls broadway #cadnis ff #should i do one from cady's pov? yes? no? no one cares áine?

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