#And that isn't conducive to polished pieces

[themswritinwords]

Mostly!

I've been in and out of doctors offices and the hospital for the past 2-3 months, which is in itself exhausting and not really conducive to writing. Add in the end-of-year holidays coming up, at least four more appointments in the next month, my child's first ever dance recital and all the prep that entails (way more than I thought), a cross-country trip to visit family, and some other personal stuff on top of all that, and I might still be a bit absent. I'm hoping by the second week of January I'll be back to some kind of routine, which hopefully means being more active here too. (Gotta build that dying-platform social media, amirite?)

But! Despite losing approximately 1/3 to 1/2 of my blood volume in the space of a month (0/10 do NOT recommend), I did actually get stuff done. Important stuff! I did DVpit on Discord, got requests, and actually got those sent out before the major hospitalization adventures. I polished up a finished manuscript and actually got it out to some beta readers. Excitingly, I also got my first two full requests ever, and got those sent off with minimal freaking out and rethinking my entire everything.

No word on the fulls yet, but the beta readers are all coming back with the same kind of feedback:

"engaging," "couldn't put it down," "hysterical," "cinematic," "powerful," and my personal favorite, "WOW." (if i had a nickel for every all-caps WOW i got on this manuscript, I'd have 3 nickels; which isn't a lot but it's weird exciting that it happened 3 different times)

Okay, I lied. My personal favorite was the single, solitary, italicized, "Holy shit."

So for once I'm feeling pretty good about myself and my writing! And that's in spite of one of my worries for this manuscript coming true: I got some details wrong and the Car People noticed. And yet! Despite something being egregiously wrong, they said they didn't care because the story was "so engaging it didn't matter." (Still gonna fix it, though. Now that I know, those inaccurate spark plugs will haunt me.)

I also managed to dust off an old project-- my oldest to date that's still functional as a story-- and figured out how to fix all the problems that led me to shelve it in the first place. I have a plan. I have a workable outline. I fixed the stagnant characters and plot and the massive plot holes all at once with minimal scrapping and without trashing my most favorite (and compelling) aspects.

Most importantly, I'm excited to work on it.

After finishing this latest project and then having my whole body fall apart piece after piece for almost a full quarter of a year, it feels like I haven't wanted to write in a long time, let alone been excited to do so. But here I am, getting words down and dusting off Spotify playlists. It feels really, really good.

So here's to the next few months. They might still be rocky and stressful, but I'm recovering in more ways than just the physical. I hope the end of the year brings you joy and peace in whatever ways you need it most, and that the new year finds you well and, most importantly, happy. If not, please know I'm here for you and rooting for you. My askbox and DMs are always open. <3

[despairing-disaster]

Like, if you asked someone who actually carves things out of stone why they specifically choose marble, they could give you and answer (I couldn't, but they could). The medium is important to the craft and other materials simply can't be carved into a way that is conducive to sculpture. And when you generally tend to get good at an art in any way, you can sort of begin seeing the end product of your labor before it has even started. You get the idea of things "coming together" as they happen even if what you have now looks like a half-finished mess, but you see the potential is there. There's also the fact that it's actually not that hard to fall in love with your work either. If you go in with the idea that you want to see something specific, something that is important to you personally, and convey that exactly how you envisioned, it's an extremely rewarding feeling when you succeed.

So if you think of surgery as a form of art (and as someone who is very in favor of body modification, I do), there has to be something which you can perform surgery on. But a surgical canvas, unless it is a cadaver or a mockup they use for med students, isn't unfeeling. You do not have to ask a piece of paper permission to draw on it and what you put on it won't have much of an effect on that paper emotionally, but if you're working with people, those people need to be considered. Ultimately, something like plastic surgery isn't so much about the surgeon's vision as it is about what the patient wants because ultimately, people, the autonomous, sentient, sapient things that they are, generally want their body to reflect their vision of it and not other people's.

But Arturo doesn't really seem to get that, and even if he does, he doesn't care. If a rock is too tough to be carved into without breaking tools, carving it is a waste of time and tools. Sure, you could polish a turd, but who wants a shiny turd over a shiny gem? And this is why Arturo doesn't operate on "ugly" people, because he doesn't see them as able to be improved at a fundamental level. The body itself is not conducive to modification, so it's a waste of resources to modify. This perspective informs the way he interacts with others, because people are his medium of choice, so he'll simply brush past anyone he doesn't consider in the way I'm not about to go to walmart to pick up a 12 pack of crayola and that really shitty mealy construction paper that looks like it was made out of the stuff they put in jungle gyms to make sure kids don't hurt themselves. But you can't really just dismiss or ignore people for being "low quality" in your eyes without them taking issue with it because people don't like being seen or treated as lesser than, so he comes across as abrasive right off the bat.

Fundamentally, he doesn't view people as people, he views people as whatever potential he finds in them, and if there is not potential, than there is no person worth considering. And this idea remains prevalent in the way he interacts with people he does see as having potential because he's still considering his specific artistic vision over their wants as people. He doesn't care that J doesn't want him intruding on her or anything about her, he cares specifically about the vision he has of her and is frustrated by her challenging that vision. It's very likely he views her "boyishness" as an active defilement of herself, still seeing the specific vision, but on an already paint-splattered canvas. But his perspective is distorted because J is a person, not a painting, and the conflict comes in Arturo being fundamentally unable to understand it.

He lusts for beauty and the right to manifest it, and sees people as the medium in which he can achieve this, but fails to understand that the reason he is resisted is because others do not necessarily share his vision. He is someone eternally frustrated by a want that impedes on others, and it's fascinating to witness, both as an artist and as someone who's been subject to that kind of treatment.

I will never want anything more than to kick Arturo down the stairs, but I am forever obsessed with his brand of pygmalionism.

[punkpoemprose]

December 13th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 5

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 4046 Words A/N: Anna meets the trolls! I continue to try to catch up! Lets see which one of these two things goes better, shall we? A bit of a slow chapter all in all. More fun stuff coming in parts 6 & 7!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

They walked through the quickly darkening wood and Anna felt her heart racing in her chest as the dark part of her thoughts, the part of her that could never believe that anything good could ever happen to her, was screaming.

Don’t trust him. You’re going to die out here. He’ll call it an accident. It’ll be just like Hans.

She hadn’t been so scared at first, in fact she’d been enjoying the walk. There was plenty on the path to keep her eye occupied in the warm afternoon light. Little flowers, and mushrooms were bright and friendly, their petals and caps gleaming when she glanced down at them. The gentle rustling of leaves on the trees and the call of overhead birds had seemed so lively and comforting when everything was bright and warm.

When the sun sank low over the horizon, the shadows grew longer, and the air began to grow cool. The breezes were not icy, just cool in the way that the air sometimes became on summer nights, particularly away from the temperate influence of air coming off the fjord. The rustling of leaves seemed less lively then, and more ominous. The calls of birds seemed less friendly and more predatory, and some part of her brain that had been listening in her science lessons reminded her that mushrooms were associated with death and decay.

Kristoff’s hand felt less reassuring.

Run.

He squeezed her palm.

“Almost there,” he said.

She couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her.

Run before it’s too late you stupid girl.

“I did my best to explain the circumstances of our wedding,” he said, his voice low as he again broke the silence between them, “They’re kind of… hardheaded though. So, if they say anything rude or if they ask anything that makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I’ll stay right with you, you can squeeze my hand if you’re upset and I’ll figure out how to change the subject or something. They’re very excited to meet you.”

She wasn’t sure what it was that calmed her really. Maybe it was the gentleness of his apologetic tone? Or perhaps it was the fact that he was making plans to ensure her comfort. Surely it wasn’t something he’d invent if he had any intentions of hurting her.

He would never hurt you.

The much more charitable voice was attempting to wrest control from the negative one, and Anna tried to focus on something positive as she tried to level out her breathing and walk one step at a time forward. She decided to focus on Kristoff, as he was surely the most friendly looking part of their current surroundings.

He hadn’t shaved today. She noticed the very light shade of stubble on his cheeks and along his jaw. She hadn’t noticed on their wedding day that he could even grow facial hair. He’d looked so much more boyish to her then, probably because he was just as nervous as she’d been.

His hand was warm and grounding in her own. She gave his hand a little squeeze, and was surprised when he looked over at her with concern in his brown eyes. He squeezed back gently, and she realized that he had just got finished saying that she could squeeze his hand if she was upset. She gave him an apologetic look at then she saw the concern fade, replaced with a soft smile on his lips and a small spark of something in his eye.

She felt warm under his attention.

Safe.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” she asked quietly, the first thing she’d said since the start of the walk.

He smiled then, a broad and amused grin. He looked at her for a moment as if she’d said something very funny and pulled her, just a bit, closer to his side.

“I think they already do.”

***

When they broke into the clearing of the Valley of the Living Rock, Kristoff felt a nervousness in his stomach. It was a fluttering thing, making him wonder if he was going to be ill. It made him feel hollow, like his heartbeat was bouncing and echoing through him, amplifying his anxieties.

He almost wondered if Anna could sense his nervousness, but she seemed unaffected by it. Her mood had been, just a few short minutes before, apprehensive at best. He chocked it up to nerves, but now he thought that there might have been more to it. When he’d glanced at her she’d seemed outright scared, but then after they talked, she’d calmed significantly.

He could already read his wife quite well. Her moods read to him a bit like a popup book did to a child. This meaning that he could get the main idea rather quickly, but interpreting it further was a struggle. That he’d managed to respond to her properly was surely dumb luck, but he was glad for it. She seemed at least somewhat comfortable standing at his side before the open field of mossy stones.

“Is your family meeting us here, or?”

He took a deep breath, letting it fill his lungs and make his gut feel a little less like a hollow receptacle for fears and concerns. Explaining his family to her was something he’d thought about, but mostly in a theoretical sense, and not particularly deeply. He hadn’t formulated a plan on his way to his cabin, nor had he found a particularly good way to broach the subject on his way back to the valley with her.

You’re going to sound like a crazy person.

He gestured at the stones, a bit broadly as the sky continued to darken. Day had turned to afternoon and it too had turned to evening at a rapid pace. Despite the significant time spend in the sled together as they rode up to his cabin, he felt like he hadn’t had enough time with her at all, not enough time to explain, not enough time to know how she’d react.

“They’re already here.”

He watched as she glanced around the space, as if she’d simply just missed someone standing before her. He saw her eyes scanning the stones, grazing over them like she couldn’t possibly imagine anyone there, and he wished that he had the words to prepare her. He couldn’t find them, or anything even close.

So he stepped forward into the space and reached down to touch the nearest stone.

“The sun’s almost set,” he said, “You can wake up now. I brought her.”

He could sense the confusion from Anna behind him. He could practically feel her eyes on him as he walked through the valley and touched more stones, gently waking his family.

She thinks you’re crazy person.

“Kristoff?”

Her voice sounded strange from behind him, a mixture of fear and concern that made his heart pound. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand, if he could make her understand, that his family was not exactly human. With the confirmation that her sister, the Queen of Arendelle, had abilities beyond the realm of conventional belief, he had to hope that she would keep an open mind.

“Kristoff,” she repeated, “Are you… are you alright? I…”

The rocks began to shift around his feet, rolling towards him.

Anna stopped speaking and instead shrieked. He turned quickly to see her backing up with stuttering steps, her hands out before her, with terror in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Anna. Don’t be scared, they’re just…”

“Trolls.”

***

Anna felt as though her eyes were about to pop out of her head, that her heart was about to give out. Kristoff had told her that he was going to bring her to meet his family, but instead she’d watched him address a field of mossy stones that were now rapidly rolling his way.

She thought for a moment that there may have been some kind of natural disaster happening, a landslide, or an earthquake, or something explainable. She tried to make it work in her head as she backed away from the space on shaking feet, but to no avail.

A landslide on flat land. An earthquake that only moves stones and doesn’t shake the ground. Logical Anna. Very logical.

Kristoff turned to her and seemed to register her panic. She could see the fear in his eyes in return, but it was a strange look. It wasn’t the sort of panic she would expect to see on the face of someone about to be crushed by oncoming moving stones, but instead it seemed to be directed at her.

It reminded her of the hurt she’d seen in his eyes on their wedding night. When she’d insulted him by accident when she’d thought he’d insist on bedding her. It confused her, and as she continued to try to move away, her eyes pleading with him to do the same, she heard him speak.

He was telling her not to be afraid.

He’s crazy. He’s literally insane. I have been married off to some kind of half mad forest hermit and he’s only held it together until this moment.

There was a scraping sound that joined with the dull thudding of the rolling stones. She tried to make sense of the noise, to understand what was making it, but it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. She thought it might just be the stones bumping together, but then she realized that none of the small boulders were colliding, but rather were moving in unnaturally straight paths toward Kristoff, like they were seeking him out.

She saw it then, the source of the scraping sound.

They’re unrolling. They’re alive.

She felt her jaw drop, her stumbling feet almost tripping beneath her as she took in the change occurring before her. The stones weren’t really stones at all, but were instead small humanoid creatures made of grey stone. They varied a bit in appearance, some large and some small, all with round noses and black eyes. She noticed that they were dressed in clothes of moss and grass, and that some, around their rocky necks, wore crystals.

Like the ones in his chest.

“Trolls,” she said, the word falling from her lips as soon as the connection was made. “They’re trolls.”

She remembered childhood stories, being held in her mother’s arms on her bed as she or her father told her tales. There was one about an enchanted forest, one about the spirits of nature, one about the creation of the kingdom, and several about creatures who were said to live in the mountains and forests of Arendelle. The topic of several stories she’d enjoyed in particular was trolls.

She recalled him reaching out for her hair before the impromptu hike they’d just taken. She remember his questioning her about how she’d gotten it, and the amused and pleased look he’d offered her when she’d told him the childish explanation she’d formed as a child.

I dreamt I was kissed by a troll.

She supposed that she had been now. Even if only an adopted one.

Kristoff looked straight at her, the concerned look on his face, the nervous upturn of his lips, the furrowing of his brows, still evident despite the space they’d put between them.

“They are.”

Oh.

She was half expecting him to shake his head and let her know that she was seeing things. She almost wanted to hear that she was losing her mind from stress and lack of sleep, but no. He was standing with his family, looking at her with an almost pleading expression, as if he needed her to understand.

And she did.

If my sister can freeze half the kingdom because she panics, I can’t exactly find it odd that his family is a valley full of rock trolls.

“I…” she didn’t know what to say.

She took a deep breath, focusing on letting her lungs fill with air after the panicked shouting she’d done. She let her eyes linger on Kristoff’s face, and the softness that was there. She thought about how he made her feel, even though their relationship was new, and felt her muscles relax as she calmed. Once she was breathing with relative ease and she managed to wrap her head around the basic concept that she was addressing her husband and his family, she was able to let years of “princess training” take over. She’d never been perfect at being properly royal, something she chocked up to not ever being able to practice what was preached to her, but she hoped that her manners would be good enough for a valley of stone people.

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

She addressed the crowd, but kept her eyes on Kristoff as she spoke, anchoring herself on him. This was his family, and now, through marriage, hers as well.

***

Kristoff watched as the valley around him descended into chaos.

Somewhere off to his side one of his aunts broke the silence after Anna spoke, and did so in a much less delicate and proper manner than his wife had managed.

“Kristoff brought a girl!”

The convergence on Anna after her shout was inevitable, and he couldn’t help but curse himself for walking so far away from her. There was a momentary panic in his wife’s face as his family ran and rolled towards her but when he gave her a concerned and apologetic glance, he found that she simply smiled and furrowed her brows in return, her shoulders shrugging as if she were trying to communicate “I’m okay” over the distance, but still offer her trepidation at the same time.

He walked through the crush of small stone bodies before someone could steal her away. There were questions being shouted to both of them, but there was little he could make out as the voices intermingled into a cacophony of hoots and hollers and conversation. Evidently his parents and grandfather had not had the time to inform the rest of the family before his arrival with Anna.

“Guys, please,” he said, loud enough that he hoped he could be heard, but not so loud that he might frighten Anna with his shouting, “We’ll explain soon, just… where’s Pabbie?”

He managed to catch Anna’s hand as he approached, and carefully pulled her towards him, his family moving out of the way as they moved to occupy a closer space.

Trying his best to be comforting he squeezed Anna’s hand in his own, but instead of her usual squeeze back, he found her moving closer into his space, shifting so that their arms crossed behind them and so that her back was against his chest. She dropped his hand and then leaned into him.

It was instinct when he took the hand that had been in hers and draped it around her waist protectively.

She made a soft sound when he did so, and while he still wasn’t totally sure of her cues and what anything she did really meant beyond his initial instinct and assumption, he thought that she might be comforted. He pulled her a little closer and she leaned into him further. He thought that he might feel some tension leaving her at the contact.

Wishful thinking.

He was about to ask about Pabbie again when the crowd of the family parted abruptly, and a familiar stone came rolling their way. He pressed his arm into Anna’s waist gently, doing his best to be reassuring as the crowd returned to silence. He could feel her tensing again, and he wished more than anything that he would have waited to bring her to meet his family.

If he’d just managed to spend a week with her, to learn more about her, he may have known how to comfort her better. He might have known the right words to say so that this wouldn’t all come to her as a shock, but he hadn’t. He’d brought her to meet his family after marrying her as a complete stranger. He’d frightened her more in the last few days than he would have liked.

If she makes it through this and doesn’t hate me, we’ll be alright.

At least, I hope.

“Pabbie,” he addressed the old troll as he unrolled himself before them.

His parents then shifted out of the edges of the assemblage and made their way to Pabbie’s side, standing in the small clearing with him and Anna. They were a small bubble of his immediate family in a sea of the extended members of the troll clan he’d been adopted into, and while he couldn’t say that he thought Anna was particularly relaxed by this, he did think that the space allowed her to again release some of the tension in her body.

“Mom. Dad,” he added as they entered the space.

He wished that he could see Anna’s face. He was reading her based on body language alone, and he wasn’t particularly proficient at it.

His mother and father were smiling though, and he had to hope that Anna found it as comforting as he did.

***

Kristoff was at her back and Anna was trying to focus on her breathing as the chaos of the stone creatures swirled around her. She took comfort in the fact that those who had entered her space had backed off a bit. She knew, instinctually, and from the stories her parents had told her as a child that the trolls were not going to hurt her, but she was still overwhelmed by them.

Kristoff wouldn’t take you anywhere where someone would hurt you. This is his family. They’re excited to see you.

The positive part of her thoughts was back and with a vengeance. She thought it might have something to do with the intimacy of Kristoff’s arm being wrapped around her waist, the way his chest being at her back made he feel surrounded and protected in a way she’d never experienced before. She realized after a short time that the deep calming breaths she was taking were mirroring the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

She closed her eyes for a moment and felt her face flush as she thought about breathing with him, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the mental image of facing him while doing so, lips barely an inch apart.

She tried to push it out of her mind.

When she began to focus on what was happening around her again she noted three trolls before her. If she’d heard and understood Kristoff correctly, she was fairly certain that they were his adopted parents and grandfather. She supposed it made sense given the wide berth the rest of the crowd was giving them while the three trolls closest to her were not seemingly bothered by their proximity to her and Kristoff. They all seemed to have smiles on their faces, and Anna allowed herself to think of them as happy to see her.

“You’re beautiful,” the troll with glowing pink crystals and white puffy flowers in her hair said in a warm tone.

His mother.

She managed to slip back into Princess mode, and thought that maybe if she thought of her marriage to Kristoff as political, and this meeting with his family as diplomatic might help. It wasn’t incorrect by any stretch of the imagination. Even in her father’s stories Arendelle was aligned with the trolls and had treaties with them.

Her marriage to Kristoff had been political. She’d just never realized how much, and she doubted that it was at all intentional.

“Thank you,” she managed, “That’s very kind to say, given you’re lovely yourself.”

She thought that maybe her tone made it sound like she was laying it on thick, but she actually meant it. There was a softness to the stone woman’s features and a brightness to her eye that Anna read as a unique sort of beauty. The pitted stone of her nose reminded Anna a bit of her own freckles, and she’d always liked them, so also liked the feature on the troll woman.

“Oh Kris,” the troll said, stepping forward into their space a bit more and grinning up at him, “I like her already.”

Anna felt his laugh as she heard it. More tension leached from her muscles as he gently shifted his hand up her side a bit until it was resting on her ribs. His laughter was soothing to her, and she already knew that she would enjoy making him laugh when she could manage it.

“I do too Ma,” he said, his voice low, as if it were just for her ears.

Anna’s heart fluttered at the admission, the words so close to her ear that she took it to be something that he wanted her to hear.

He likes me.

It was a silly thing to be excited about, but she supposed that every positive thing they could manage to find about their situation was something worth celebrating.

I like him too.

Pabbie, the older troll that seemed to command the respect of all others, cleared his throat.

Anna felt her eyes drawn to him and his wizened features. He had bags under his eyes, and a larger nose than the rest. She supposed the signs of aging were much the same in all humanoid creatures, though she couldn’t say for sure as her current count of humanoids only included trolls and humans.

He had expressive thick mossy brows, and his eyes appeared kind as they settled upon her face.

She did her best to hold his gaze and keep her breathing level. She wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with so many eyes on her, even though it was practically in the description of being a crown princess to be stared at. She hadn’t experienced it very much in her life before the last couple weeks.

“Welcome to our family,” the old troll announced loudly, setting the tone for the whole family, though it didn’t seem much different to Anna than the tone they’d set running towards her.

She realized it now that she was feeling safe and protected under Kristoff’s hold, that they were only excited about meeting her and that they’d only meant to greet her. It had been so overwhelming in the moment that she’d struggled to think anything about it, but now she could see that the valley was full of “people” who were just excited to see her. “People” who had raised her husband despite being a totally different species.

“We have much to discuss,” the old troll added, much more quietly.

He stretched out a hand to her, and Anna couldn’t help but disentangle herself from Kristoff’s arm to take his hand before she took the one offered by the old troll as well.

She wasn’t entirely sure what they had to talk about, but she suddenly felt excited about the prospect to discuss anything with the three trolls before her.

They know Kristoff better than anyone. They love him.

She hoped that maybe learning more from them, hearing their thoughts and stories might help her love him too.

There was a quiet part of her that thought that she didn’t need the help.

She squeezed Kristoff’s hand and felt him return the gesture comfortingly.

I’m already falling for him.

She thought that it was a bad idea perhaps, to let herself move from thinking about like to love, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart had always been open, and she couldn’t let what had happened to her close it.

You can’t fall in love with someone you just met.

She thought again about the irony of their situation. She’d managed to cause this whole mess by breaking the cardinal rule that you’re not supposed to marry someone you just met, and then the solution to fix the aftermath had been to do just that. So some rules, she supposed were meant to be broken for the right person. Or at least for politics.

She liked to think that maybe it really was for the right person though as she followed the old troll and felt Kristoff keep pace with her as they went.

I’m falling in love with my husband.