#Event Planning Tips and Tricks

[wppipcom]

Boost Your Event Management Business: Essential Tips for Success Complete Digital Solution

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2005 Walt Disney World Vacation Planning | Special Events

2005 Walt Disney World Vacation Planning | Special Events

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

how do i get my character out of the corner i wrote myself in without a dues ex machina😭

How to Not Write Yourself Into a Corner (and How to Write Yourself Out of a Corner if You’re Already In One)

One of a writer’s WORST fears is writing themself into a corner.

It’s easy to write your characters into death-defying situations…but it’s not as easy to write the actual “defying death” part.

Some writers, in their desperation to get their characters out of a bind, employ the use of a Deus Ex Machina, as mentioned by anon:

Deus Ex Machina: (Translates to "god from the machine") A plot device where a seemingly unsolvable situation is fixed by an out-of-the-blue occurrence. The term “deus ex machina” is a reference to Greek plays, when actors playing a god would literally be lowered into the scene via a machine to magically solve any situation.

Unfortunately, this plot device is often ridiculed by readers, cited as a hack-job solution for a writer out of ideas.

How do we avoid this situation, then? Here are some tips and tricks on how to not write yourself into a corner, and how to write yourself out of a corner if you’re already in one!

Note that these tips may not work for everyone, so make sure to use your own intuition as a writer— you know your story best.

1. NIP IT IN THE BUD— OUTLINES ARE KEY!

I’m sorry to all of you pantsers out there, but the key to prevent writing yourself into a corner is to already have an idea of how each scene is going to turn out; don't make a problem without making a solution! If you keep on top of your outline, you should have no worries about writing your characters into a situation they can't get out of it.

It may be easiest to jot down ideas about a couple of scenarios and then select the one that works best, especially when it comes to dire climax scenes that have a lot of moving parts. 

Check out my posts below for more in-depth advice about outlining!

How to Outline

Plotting for Pansters and Pantsing for Plotters

This advice, although essential, does require a ton of foresight and time to plan…and if you’ve sought out this post, it may mean that it’s too late for preventative measures. The subsequent tips in this post are going to be for people who are already in the thick of it and need a way to save all of their writing progress. 

2. FORESHADOWING IS YOUR FRIEND (AKA “CHEKHOV’S GUN YOUR WAY OUT OF THAT SHIT”)

Foreshadowing: A narrative device wherein a writer gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. It helps maintain believability while subverting expectations and making plot twists.

Chekhov’s Gun: A narrative device wherein a seemingly insignificant element or object in the story becomes useful later on. Sometimes used synonymously with foreshadowing, but usually refers to a specific object.

Examples of Foreshadowing/Chekhov’s guns in media:

The 1981 Quarter (Or Extra Life Quarter) in Ready Player One

“Don’t Cross the Streams” in Ghostbusters (1984)

Winchester Rifle Hanging over the Bar in Shaun of the Dead (2004)

The Rita Hayworth Poster in The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

The Water Bottle in Bullet Train (2022)

In my opinion, a Chekhov’s Gun is the more refined twin of the deus ex machina; although it may seem like it comes out of nowhere, observant readers or those who go back into the story will realize that this event was set up from the beginning.

Foreshadowing is the key to turning a deus ex machina into a Chekhov’s Gun. It’s spreading breadcrumbs to maintain believability even when unbelievable things happen.

My advice: plant a line here and there referring to the object/element that will get you out of the corner.

These lines can be about a healing potion that a character carries around to save them when they’re at the brink of death, the fact that the city they’re fighting in often suffers from sinkholes, or that a character has a seemingly useless skill. 

However, haphazardly inserting foreshadowing into your story may come across as heavy-handed; make sure it aligns with the narrative beats. Particularly big Chekhov’s Guns, especially ones that “save the day," may require multiple foreshadowing elements.

It can take a lot of work to incorporate the foreshadowing smoothly, so make sure it actually saves you time in comparison to rewriting the whole scenario/plot point.

3. TAKE A BREAK

Sometimes, the solution to your problem may not come to mind because you’re too immersed into the writing process and not thinking of the bigger picture. Or maybe it might just be good old-fashioned writer’s block. Take a step back, reassess, and return with the scene properly re-evaluated. Maybe start a new book or TV show to get some inspiration, or check out one of my posts below!

How to Overcome Writer’s Block

How to Get Inspired to Write and Regain Creativity

4. ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes, it might be best to have another set of eyes on your story! A situation that may seem unsolvable to you may have an obvious solution to a writing buddy.

5. KNOW THAT SOMETIMES RE-WRITING IS NECESSARY

I know this sounds horrible. It’s something that I wouldn’t wish upon any writer.

Sometimes, however, no amount of foreshadowing can get your characters out of the debacle they’ve put themselves in. Either that, or the work that it would take to insert the foreshadowing would be more than it’d take to rewrite the scene or the plot point.

My suggestion would be to search for the last place that you didn't feel lost, and then cut out everything after that.

(NEVER DELETE MAJOR CHUNKS OF YOUR WRITING! ALWAYS CUT IT AND SAVE IT IN A SCRAP DOC—IT COULD COME IN HANDY LATER!)

Then, take the time to outline the scenario and figure out the solution to your problem beforehand. It will suck, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end.

HOPE THIS HELPED, AND HAPPY WRITING!

[honeytonedhottie]

the monthly necessities⋆.ೃ࿔*:･📔🎀

just some things like appointments, trips, dates that i like to plan before the beginning of each month so that i can set off on the right foot for a successful month.

MANICURE AND PEDICURE ; 

i like to schedule an appointment before the month starts to either get myself a new set or start fresh and let my nails breathe. i like to keep my toes done regularly because it just makes me feel so feminine and clean. 

FACIALS AND OTHER TREATMENTS ; 

things like a hair trim (you can designate a day to do it yourself or get it done professionally) and facials can keep you looking and feeling your best. 

waxing appointments 

getting ur brows or lashes done 

facials 

hair trimming 

it’s important to set aside those dates because booking appointments and making time to groom and pamper yourself is something that u can easily sweep under the rug, especially if ur not in the habit of pampering urself. 

IMPORTANT DATES ; 

make sure to set out dates that you don’t wanna forget! like birthdays, lessons, tournaments and competitions. make sure to put the important things in ur monthly calendar. 

applications and deadlines also go in this category so make sure to include those in ur calendar because you don’t wanna forget those. 

SOCIAL LIFE ; 

set aside times to have dinner dates with ur friends, include the dates of parties and get togethers.

lunch date 

dinner date 

brunch 

sleepovers etc 

i try and keep at least one or two days where i can be fully available with my friends so we can keep friendship strong. this includes other social events so that then you can keep your social life alive and thriving! 

ONE DAYS ; 

one whole pamper/spa day (my tip is to do this on a saturday or a sunday) 

one whole day without using social media 

one day in which u spend time outdoors 

one day to go somewhere that you never went before 

one day to help someone else and be there for them 

TIPS AND TRICKS ; 

if ur putting everything into ur agenda or calendar and you somehow still manage to forget things, log things in ur alarm clock. for example if u have a daily alarm clock that rings at a certain time, write something along the lines of what you need to remember. 

like if my alarm goes off at 6:00 am and it says “good morning beautiful” on important dates i’d write “good morning beautiful, you have an appointment at 9:00”. that way it’s like an active reminder. 

do your best to make ur calendar and agenda aesthetically pleasing, i swear it makes you more productive and happy to get things done and be prepared. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Keeping a suspense file gives you superpowers

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

Two decades ago, I was part of a group of nerds who got really interested in how each other managed to do what we did. The effort was kicked off by Danny O'Brien, who called it "Lifehacking" and I played a small role in getting that term popularized:

https://craphound.com/lifehacksetcon04.txt

While we were all devoted to sharing tips and tricks from our own lives, many of us converged on an outside expert, David Allen, and his bestselling book "Getting Things Done" (GTD, to those in the know):

https://gettingthingsdone.com/

GTD is a collection of relatively simple tactics for coping with, prioritizing, and organizing the things you want to do. Many of the methods relate to organizing your own projects, using a handful of context-based to-do lists (e.g. a list of things to do at the office, at home, while waiting in line, etc). These lists consist of simple tasks. Those tasks are, in turn, derived from another list, of "projects" – things that require more than one task, which can be anything from planning dinner to writing a novel to helping your kid apply to university.

The point of all this list-making isn't to do everything on the lists. While these lists do help you remember what to do next, what they're really good for is deciding what not to do – at all. The promise of GTD is that it will help you consciously choose not to do some of the things you set out to accomplish. This is in contrast to how most of us operate: we have a bunch of things we want to do, and we end up doing the things that are easiest, or at top of mind, even if they're not the most important things.

GTD recognizes that you can be very "productive" (in the sense of getting many things done) and still not do the things that you really wanted to do. You know what this is like: you finish a Sunday with an organized sock-drawer, all your pennies neatly rolled, the trash-can in your car emptied…and no work at all on that novel you're hoping to write.

You can't do everything, but you can control what you don't do, rather than just defaulting into completing a string of trivial, meaningless tasks and leaving the big stuff on the sidelines. Organizing your own tasks and projects is a hugely powerful habit, and one that's made a world of difference to my personal and professional life.

But while good to-do lists can take you very far in life, they have a hard limit: other people. Almost every ambitious thing you want to do involves someone else's contribution. Even the most solitary of projects can be derailed if your tax accountant misses a key email and you end up getting audited or paying a huge penalty.

That's where the other kind of GTD list comes in: the list of things you're waiting for from other people. I used to be assiduous in maintaining this list, but then the pandemic struck and no one was meeting any of their commitments, and I just gave up on it, and never went back…until about a month ago. Returning to these lists (they're sometimes called "suspense files") made me realize how many of the problems – some hugely consequential – in my life could have been avoided if I'd just gone back to this habit earlier.

My suspense file is literally just some lines partway down a text file that lives on my desktop called todo.txt that has all my to-dos as well. Here's some sample entries from my suspense file:

WAITING EMAIL Sean about ENSHITTIIFCATION manuscript deadline 10/24/24 WAITING EMAIL Russ about missing royalty statement 10/12/24 WAITING EMAIL Alice about Christmas vacation hotel 10/8/24 10/20/24 WAITING EMAIL Ted about Sacramento event 8/12/24 9/5/24 10/5/24 10/20/24

WAITING CALL LA County about mosquito abatement 10/25/24 WAITING CALL School attendance officer about London trip 10/18/24

WAITING MONEY EFF reimbusement for taxi to staff retreat $34.98 10/7/24

WAITING SHIPMENT New Neal Stephenson novel from Bookshop.org 10/23/24

This is as simple as things could possibly be! I literally just type "WAITING," then a space, then the category of thing I'm waiting for, then a few specifics, then the date. When I follow up on an item, I add the date of the followup to the end of the line. If I get some details that I might need to reference later (say, a tracking code for a shipment, or a date for an event I'm trying to organize), I'll add that, too, as it comes up. Creating a new entry on this list takes 10-25 seconds. When someone gets back to me, I just delete that line.

That is literally it.

Every day, or sometimes a couple of times a day, I will just run my eyes up and down this list and see if there's anything that's unreasonably overdue, and then I'll send a reminder or make a followup call. In the example above, you can see that I've been chasing Ted about Sacramento for months now (this is a fake entry – no plans to go to Sacto at the moment, sorry):

WAITING EMAIL Ted about Sacramento event 8/12/24 9/5/24 10/5/24 10/20/24

So now I've emailed Ted four times. Maybe my email's going to his spam, and so I could try emailing a friend of Ted and ask them to check whether he's getting my messages. But maybe Ted's trying to send me a message here – he's just not interested in doing the event after all. Or maybe Ted is available, but he's so snowed under that he's in danger of fumbling it, and I need to bring in some help if I want it to happen.

All of these are possibilities, and the fact that I'm tracking this means that I now get to make an active decision: cancel the gig or double down on making sure it happens. Without this list, the gig would just die by default, forgotten by both of us. Maybe that's OK, but I can't tell you how many times I've run into someone who said, "Dammit, I just remembered I was supposed to email you about getting that thing done and I dropped the ball. Shit! I really was looking forward to that. Is it too late now?" Often it is too late. Even if it's not, the work of picking up the pieces and starting over is much more than just following through on the original plan.

Restarting my suspense file made me realize how many of the (often expensive or painful) fumbles I've had since the pandemic were the result of me not noticing that someone else hadn't gotten back to me. In essence, a suspense file is a way for me to manage other people's to-do lists.

Let me unpack that. By "managing other people's to-do lists," I don't mean that I'm deciding for other people what they will and won't do (that would be both weird and gross). I mean that I'm making sure that if someone else fails to do something we were planning together, it's because they decided not to do it, not because they forgot. As GTD teaches us, the real point of a to-do list isn't just helping us remember what to do – it's helping us choose what we're not going to do.

This is not an imposition, it's a kindness. The point of a suspense file isn't to nag others into living up to their commitments, it's to form a network of support among collaborators where we all help one another make those conscious choices about what we're not going to do, rather than having the stuff we really value slip away because we forgot about it.

I have frequent collaborators whom I know to be incapable of juggling too many things at once, and my suspense file has helped me hone my sense of when it would be appropriate to ask them if they want to do something together and when to leave them be. The suspense file helps me dial in how much I rely on each person in my life (relying on someone isn't the same as valuing them – and indeed, one way to value someone is to only rely on them for things they're able to do, rather than putting them in a position of feeling bad for failing you).

Lifehacking gets a bad rap, and justifiably so. Many of the tips that traffick as "lifehacks" are trivial or stupid or both. What's more, too much lifehacking can paint you into a corner where you've hacked any flexibility out of your life:

https://locusmag.com/2017/11/cory-doctorow-how-to-do-everything-lifehacking-considered-harmful/

But ever since Danny coined the term "lifehack," back in 2004, I've been cultivating daily habits that have let me live the life I wanted to live, accomplishing the things I wanted to accomplish. I figured out how to turn daily writing into a habit and now I've written more than 30 books:

https://www.locusmag.com/Features/2009/01/cory-doctorow-writing-in-age-of.html

A daily habit of opening a huge, ever-tweaked collection of tabs has made me smarter about the news, helped me keep tabs on my friends, helped me find fraudsters who were trying to steal my identity, and ensured that all those Kickstarter rewards and other long-delayed, erratic shipments didn't slip through the cracks:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/25/today-in-tabs/#unfucked-rota

Daily habits are superpowers. Once something is a habit, you get it for free. GTD turns on decomposing big, daunting projects into bite-sized, trackable tasks. I have a bunch of spaces around the house – my office, my closet, the junk sheds down the side of the house, our tiki bar – that I used to clean out once or twice a year. Each one was all-day, sweaty, dirty job, and for most of the year, all of those spaces were a dusty, disorganized mess.

A month ago, I added a new daily task: spend five minutes cleaning one space. I did the bar first, and after two weeks, I'd taken down every tchotchke and bottle and polished it, reorganizing the undercounter spaces where things pile up:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?user_id=37996580417%40N01&sort=date-taken-desc&text=tiki+bar&view_all=1

Now I'm working through my office. Ever day, I'm dusting a bookshelf and combing through it for discards to stick in our Little Free Library. Takes less than five minutes most day, and I'll be done in about three weeks, when I'll move on to my closet, then the side of the house, and then back to the bar. A daily short break where I get away from my computer and make my living and working environments nicer is a wonderful habit to cultivate.

I'm 53 years old now. I was 33 when I started following Getting Things Done. In that time, I've gotten a lot done, but what's even more relevant is that I didn't get a ton of things done – things that I consciously chose not to abandon. Figuring out what you want to do, and then keeping it on track – in manageable, healthy, daily rhythms that bring along the other people you rely on – may not be the whole secret to a fulfilled life, but it's certainly a part of it.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo.txt

[qatarsprint2023]

𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝗋𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

trying for a baby with businessman!rafe — soft!rafe, allusions to sex and infertility word count: 1k

Rafe and you had been engaged for about half a year when the subject of kids first came up. It wasn’t really a question of if but more of when. You both knew you wanted a family, and there was no doubt in either of your minds that one day you’d be parents.

Your life seemed almost perfect—successful careers, a beautiful home by the water and a love that ran deep. The only thing left, besides finally becoming husband and wife, was to start a family and the thought of that brought a new kind of excitement into your life.

At first, trying for a baby was thrilling. It meant sex— lots of it. Rafe would come home from work, and you’d be waiting for him in the kitchen while making dinner, wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of panties.

You were so sure it wouldn’t take long before the two of you would have that joyful announcement to share. Every few weeks, you’d take a pregnancy test, and even though each one came back negative, you shrugged it off. It was still early, after all. These things take time, right?

As your wedding day approached, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle with a small, adorable baby bump, visible under the gorgeous, gorgeous dress you and Rafe had spent a pretty penny on. In a way, you'd secretly hoped the timing would be perfect and all of your guests would be congratulating you on the happy news.

But even after your two weeks of honeymoon, which, if we're being honest here, pretty much consisted of finishing every day off on a sweet, sweet high in the bedroom, ended with yet another negative test, the first flickers of worry set in.

The two of you read countless books on fertility, tracked your ovulation cycle meticulously and tried every tip, trick, and old wives' tale you could get your hands on. But as the months of trying turned into a year, your optimism began to wane.

The casual "When are you two finally going to have a baby?" questions from well-meaning friends and relatives became increasingly painful and you found yourself withdrawing from social events, dreading the inevitable baby talk.

Rafe, meanwhile, threw himself into his work, trying to distract himself from his growing anxiety by working until almost midnight and leaving early in the morning on some days.

The, what had once been joyful, anticipation of parenthood had turned into a constant source of stress for him and sex started to feel like a chore— scheduled and not with the intention of pleasure but the goal of finally getting pregnant after so many months.

Every negative pregnancy test ended in tears, with Rafe holding you close, whispering reassurances you weren’t sure either of you fully believed anymore. You knew hope was fragile and yours was crumbling.

You began to dread the sight of that single pink line, and eventually, the thought of taking another test became unbearable. You were tired of the heartache, tired of the constant hope only to be met with disappointment. Maybe, you started to think, the universe had other plans. Maybe, no matter how much you wanted it, parenthood just wasn’t in the cards for you and Rafe.

It was a warm evening in July, and Rafe had come home from work about half an hour ago. The weight in your chest and that familiar lump in your throat refused to disappear even as Rafe gently encouraged you to take one last pregnancy test over dinner. You had lost count of how many you’d taken by now, and the idea of seeing another negative result filled you with dread. You didn't want to try anymore... it wasn't fair.

And now, as you were standing in the bathroom, you didn’t expect anything different than the last dozen times. Your hands shook like crazy when you picked up the test, trying not to feel hopeful and get your heart shattered like every time before.

It took a moment for your brain to process what your eyes were seeing.

Two lines. Two.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled out of the bathroom, the test trembling in your hand.

Rafe looked up as he sat on the living room sofa, his face full of uncertainty, and when he saw the look on your face, the world seemed to stop.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and cautious, eyes searching yours for some kind of answer.

But you couldn’t speak. The words were stuck somewhere between disbelief and joy, your throat tightening with emotion. All you could do was nod, a shaky smile beginning to form as your hand trembled, holding the test out toward him.

Rafe stood up slowly from where he had been sitting, a nervous, hopeful laugh escaping his lips. "No... no, you’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?"

His hands reached out, cupping your face gently, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His eyes were wide, scanning your face as if he was waiting for you to say it was all a joke, something too good to be true.

You shook your head again, unable to find your voice, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

"Lemme see..." Rafe whispered, his hands moving from your face to the pregnancy test still clutched in your fingers. He took it from you, his own hands trembling now as he looked down at the small plastic stick.

It took a moment, then, in a rush, the realization hit him. "Oh my god..." His voice was barely more than a whisper at first, then louder, more excited, as the truth sank in. "Oh my god, baby... oh my god!"

He pulled you into his arms, his embrace tight and warm, lifting you slightly off the ground as he buried his face in your hair. His laughter was mixed with tears, and you felt the hot, wet drops on your shoulder as he held you close and whispered sweet words over and over again.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly, your heart soaring with a mix of happiness and disbelief.

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, soaking in the moment and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[chirpycloudyrobin]

hey do you know that one plotline in violet evergarden where the dying mom leaves letters to her kid spanning the kid's birthdays for the next 50 hears ?

work with me here.

in another AU, yllz!wei wuxian knows he's not really going to make it. the others know too. theyre all running on borrowed time. but they all agree that a-yuan should at least live. so all of them (wwx, wen qing, all the wen remnants) got together one night and write letters to a-yuan for him to open on his birthdays for the next 50 years in case they never do make it.

they hand the qiankun pouch with all the letters to wen ning. their plan in case all goes to shit is to give a-yuan to wen ning and for the two of them to escape as far as possible while wwx sets himself up as one final bait. wen ning doesnt like this last resort. no one does. but theyre all running out of time.

in this AU, things go a little differently. there is no ambush at qiongqi pass because there is no yllz traveling to give jin ling his gift. instead, wwx got lwj to hand the gift over to jin ling to avoid bringing chaos to such an auspicious event. jzx and jyl live.

there is no nightless city massacre because wwx isnt there to get the wen siblings because the wen siblings havent given themselves up. everyone is far too busy preparing a-yuan's escape.

that doesnt stop the sects from besieging the burial mounds though. they want the yllz gone, you best believe they will find other reasons to justify the siege.

a miracle happens though. by some stroke of luck, wen qing survives with a-yuan and she gets to escape with him and wen ning. wwx still dies but his death is enough to give the wen sibs and a-yuan time to escape.

so a-yuan grows up in some obscure fishing village so far removed from the great sect territories that not even lwj has passed by the place. all three of them are under new names. they make a living as the village's only healers. nobody talks about wen ning being a fierce corpse because he really isnt any danger to them. in fact, he's the favourite grandchild of all the elders (after a-yuan of course)

a-yuan grows up with just his qing-jiejie and ning-gege physically, but he has a stack of letters from his departed loved ones waiting for him for each of his birthdays, each of his milestones. his favourites are always from his xian-gege, pages upon pages of wwx rambling to him every birthday. maybe wwx snuck in some cultivation tips and tricks there. maybe there are a couple of sketches and drawings too. sketches of their family, sketches of their old home. one sketch of lwj.

a-yuan's family may have been shaved down to just the three of them but the others' spirits remain with them always.

a-yuan grows well. he's a healer, but he's also a cultivator. one wandering cultivator (maybe another incognito baoshan sanren disicple?) had given him a sword and a couple of manuals.

"you're a promising one, kid. unfortunate that you're so far away from the nearest cultivation centers, but these should be of help"

so thats their life now. quiet, peaceful.

theyre so far away from the great sect's world that they dont even hear about anything happening over there until months have passed since.

until one day, something compels wen ning to travel as fast as he can to a certain direction.

[chvoswxtch]

checkmate

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that frank was gone, you were left alone to your own devices. could you protect yourself if trouble came knocking at your door?

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence, mentions of gun violence, blood, & death

word count: 4k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (i love y'all sm). shit is about to get real. ;) but don't just take my word for it. grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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9:29 pm. 

The catastrophic events of today didn’t feel like they had happened just this morning. They didn’t even feel real at all. They seemed more like glimpses of a purgatory from an alternate dimension that somehow had been implanted into your head. How had your world become so goddamn unrecognizable in less than twelve hours?

Life as you knew it had unraveled right before your eyes in one fell swoop like a cruel magician’s trick. For the first time in months, you were terrified to leave your house again, and there was a gaping pit of loneliness carved out in your stomach.

Because Frank was gone, and he was probably never coming back.

Saline seared along your waterline as your last interaction with him replayed behind your glossy eyes on a loop. He had looked so detached, the usual warmth of his brown eyes snuffed out with a layer of black ice, face completely void of any emotion like a blank canvas.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

He didn’t say anything.

Every comet that flashed across his lips at one of your stupid little jokes. Every tiny gesture that brought him closer into your orbit. Every universe you discovered when he revealed more and more coveted constellations of himself to you. The asteroid he threw with his fists at the bar that night. The rockets he was always ready to launch on your behalf. The way all the planets had aligned just right when he glided with you around the dancefloor made of the stars.

All those intimate moments you carried around in your heart like a locket meant nothing to him.

You had only ever been a job to Frank, and that epiphany broke something inside you that you didn’t think could ever be fixed.

Sitting at your dining table staring off into the void of silence, it felt like you were wandering aimlessly through an abandoned forest in your mind. When was the last time you had felt so…lost? It was difficult to navigate a path when your whole world had been flipped upside down, right as you were ascending to the peak above the clouds. 

Ellison had politely demanded you take a few days off, or work from home, until there was a plan of what to do next regarding your safety. He didn’t know the details of why your security detail had been pulled, but the absence of Frank’s shadow was unmistakable. It was a glaring vacancy not even the darkness could hide. Coupled with the intense gloom of dejection lingering on your face and the desolation melting from your eyes, it wasn’t a hard mystery for him to solve.

Covering your face with your palms, you suddenly felt like a little girl again, hiding under the blankets and covering your eyes to hide from the villainous shadows that lurked in the corners of your room. You remember thinking that if you couldn’t see the phantoms, they couldn’t see you, and then they couldn’t hurt you. 

That logic made sense in your head at the time. Before you learned that monsters are real, and they don’t go away when you hide behind your hands. 

The sharp sound of clamorous repetitive knocking against your front door echoed through the quiet and caused you to jump with a noise of surprise. Glancing over at the clock on your microwave, your brows knit together in confusion as you read the glowing digital numbers. 

10:31 pm.

A second round of impatient knocks had you slowly rising from your chair, tip-toeing around the corner towards your front door as noiselessly as you could, not wanting to alert anyone on the other side of your presence. Leaning up to peek through the peephole, the perplexity weaved between your brows only grew seeing two officers standing outside your door. 

Despite the advice from your gut, curiosity got the better of you, and you unlocked the two locks in place, twisting the knob on the door to pull it open slowly. 

“Can I help you?”

The first officer straightened up when you opened the door, placing his weathered hands on his belt as he eyed you up and down in a way that had discomfort blooming in your lower stomach. 

“You Y/N Y/L/N?”

Glancing between the icy gray eyes of the first officer and the sharp aquamarine of the second, your grip on the door knob tightened slightly.

“I am. Who are you?”

The second officer folded his arms over his chest, peering right over your head like he was searching behind you for something, or someone. 

“I’m Officer Walker, this is Officer Cavella. You uh, home alone?”

Something in your gut was setting off all the warning bells and alarms in your brain. The way Officer Walker tilted his head to the side with an ominous twinkle in his eyes, and the slight mocking tone you detected in his voice made you feel like he knew that answer already. Beside him, his partner was still attempting to scope out your place over your shoulders. An eerie feeling crept up your spine, and you pulled the door slightly shut, only leaving it open enough for your frame to fit through as you attempted to keep your voice calm and unaffected.

“I’m sorry, what’s this about?”

Officer Cavella chuckled lightly as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, taking a bold step forward and gesturing towards you with his hand, a large Cheshire grin on his thin lips.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re here to keep you safe. Just gonna take a look around for any trouble. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you, now would we?”

The pet name he used made your skin crawl, and you detected that same artificial sympathy that had come from his predecessor. You felt like a lamb staring down two wolves with their fangs bared in sinister smiles.

“I…think there’s been some confusion. I already have protection-”

“Had protection. After that bomb fiasco yesterday, you’re not under Anvil’s wing anymore. Right?”

Officer Walker lifted his thick brows in question, a saccharine smirk on his lips, once again daring you to challenge the answers he already seemed to have.

How did he know that? Hadn’t Billy told you Homeland was keeping the details under wraps? That the attack was reported as an accident?

An icy sense of unease caused goosebumps to prickle along your skin. There was only one way either of them would know about the bombing yesterday, and it had your heart thrashing against your ribcage furiously.

“Mr. Russo arranged alternate protection for me already.”

“They running late or something?”

Officer Cavella quipped, cocking his head to the side in an imitation of concern. But the wild look in his piercing eyes gave away his real candor. He took another daring step forward, breaching the boundary of your personal space, and bared his teeth in a crooked grin.

“Tell you what, why don’t you let us take a look around while you wait for them to show up. We can keep you company. Wouldn’t be right to leave a scared girl all by herself-”

“I’m not scared.”

The harsh edge to your voice had the pleased smirks dropping from both their faces, and you could visibly see their patience running thin. Pursing your lips, you attempted to rain in your hazardous temper before it could spark a situation you couldn’t handle alone. Clearing your throat, you brushed a piece of your hair out of your face with your finger as you focused on keeping your voice at a civil decibel.

“Listen, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. I don’t need either of you. Have a good night.”

A thick boot wedged itself between the frame and the door, preventing you from shutting it, and your eyes widened slightly when Officer Cavella braced his palm against the door, exerting a show of strength in forcing it back, and you along with it.

“Sorry princess, but we got orders.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise at the intrepid intrusion, but his words piqued your interest, and your eyes narrowed slightly as you stared up at him.

“Orders from who?”

Officer Walker took a step forward and placed his arm in front of his partner to halt his movements, flashing him a warning glance before flipping a charming smile onto his lips when he turned his attention back to you.

“You know, this will really go a lot smoother if you just cooperate and do what you’re told.”

That one sentence nearly paralyzed you with dread that spread throughout your entire nervous system, threatening to shut it down completely. A sobering thought flickered in your head that if you didn’t play this smart, these men might kill you, or worse. Glancing between them frantically, your mind fought through the cortisol pumping furiously through your bloodstream, and you quickly started to formulate a plan.

Both of these men were far larger than you, and you didn’t know any self defense. They were without a doubt faster than you, and even if you made a run for it with a headstart somehow, they would catch you. You couldn’t fight, and you couldn’t run, which only left you one option.

Do your job. 

Treat this like any other investigation. 

Play your role, get your answers.

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you forcefully swallowed your inner combative nature, slipping into a more appeasing version of yourself as you looked between them with a tired smile.

“Can we…start over? Today has been so hectic…and with everything going on, I’m just super on edge. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to take that out on either of you. I apologize. I…appreciate you looking out for me. Please, come in. Can I get either of you some coffee?”

The tension that had been lingering heavily in the space like a suffocating layer of smoke seemed to slowly disappear as the two men exchanged a glance in a secret language you couldn’t understand, turning to face you with their previous artificial smiles plastered on their thin lips.

“Coffee would be great.” 

Officer Cavella had a sickly sweet tone to his voice, and the pleasure in his eyes from your submission turned your blood into molten lava, but you fought to keep your composure, reminding yourself that your life was potentially on the line. 

On the way to the kitchen, you elusively swiped your phone and hid it behind your coffee machine, subtly pressing record on the voice memo app that was on your home screen. Once their coffees were done brewing and the machine was no longer making noise, you cleared your throat and began your interrogation.

“So, you guys must be pretty relieved huh?”

Officer Walker perked up at your words, the hand that was lifting the coffee mug to his mouth pausing in midair. He glanced at his partner curiously before looking back at you from his spot at your dining table.

“About what?”

You feigned confusion as you glanced between them with a light smile on your lips. 

“The evidence that Homeland found? Mr. Russo said they found something in the bomb fragments. It’s a really good thing Mr. Price had already checked out of his hotel room. He got lucky.”

“Looks like that pretty boy doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Wasn’t Price’s hotel room that got blown up. It was one of his escort vehicles.”

For someone that was completely giving himself away, Officer Cavella looked thoroughly pleased with himself. He seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to indirectly insult your intelligence, but he didn’t realize that by trying to prove his superiority to you, he was feeding you everything you needed to confirm your suspicions.

Conveying an expression of mock horror on your face, you braced one of your hands on the counter, placing the other dramatically over your mouth.

“I…I must have misheard him then. I-Oh my God, that’s…terrifying. I couldn’t imagine…knowing I was in danger like that.”

You pretended to shudder, leaning your back against the counter as you shook your head slowly and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Well, despite how it happened, I’m just glad they were able to pull those fingerprints from the fragments.”

“What?”

Officer Walker’s face was twisted up in puzzlement, but there was a specific emotion pooling in his eyes that caught your attention; fear.

“Yeah, I mean…they’re partials, but Mr. Russo said Homeland was pushing them through every database for a match. Didn’t they tell you that?”

Officer Cavella leaned over the dining table as he stared at you in almost a glare, his teeth bared more in a subtle snarl than a smile.

“Didn’t who tell us that?”

“Homeland. They sent you, right?”

Cocking your head to the side slightly, you attempted to feign innocence and perplexity.

“Russo sent us.”

Furrowing your brows slightly, you looked over at Officer Walker and let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head.

“He doesn’t have that authority. He only hires private contractors.”

“He put in a special request with our Captain.”

Officer Walker seemed to speak almost through gritted teeth, a light layer of warning laced through his quick reply to your incessant interrogation, but his patience was far more intact that his partner’s. 

Officer Cavella was the one you could get to break, and you knew just how to get him to shatter.

Aim for his ego. 

Letting out a soft hum in acknowledgment that you allowed to linger for a moment, you turned your attention to Officer Cavella, meeting his predatory gaze with an expression of indifference tied with a smile. 

“You know, it actually makes sense that Homeland didn’t tell you. They don’t usually share information with anyone that doesn’t have the security clearance. I guess you boys aren’t high enough up the ladder.”

You could tell by the look in his eyes that your playful jest struck a nerve exactly as you had intended. The skin on his knuckles turned stark white from gripping so tightly onto the ceramic mug, and his jaw was clenched so hard, you thought he might crack his own mandible. 

“I guarantee you we have more clearance than some gossip magazine writer.”

“Newspaper, actually. And investigative journalism, not gossip. You’d be surprised at the kind of clearance I have.”

Although you knew it wasn’t wise to inch closer towards a firecracker that was dangerously close to exploding, you were too fucking close to a lead that could expose these assholes; the first one that had been discovered in months. You couldn’t shy away now. 

The fractures in Officer Cavella’s resolve were already starting to spread like an intricate labyrinth cracking through glass. You just needed to apply a little more pressure to get him to implode into guilty fragments. 

Waving your hand dismissively in his direction, you glanced around your kitchen with a content sigh before facing him with an arrogant smile.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter who really sent you. They’ll have those full prints in just a few hours, and this whole thing will be over. Those cowards will finally go down, and I can’t fucking wait to cover the trial.”

There was an extra bite to your tone as you emphasized the word coward, and both of them instantly sat up straighter with squared shoulders. The neutral expression of innocence was still coveting your features like a mask, but the edges were steadily beginning to rip. 

All at once there was a quick shift in the room and an unspoken aura of understanding between the three of you was swiftly forming over all of your heads like a raincloud. They suddenly seemed to sober up to the motion that you were playing them like pawns.

“There won’t be any prints.”

Officer Cavella seemed to be vibrating with anger, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Walker reach to his hip to place his hand over his gun. There was a very real chance that you were about to die, but it didn’t matter. 

Because you would fucking win in the end.

You just needed one of them to make that last, foolish move across the chess board.

One final move to win the game.

“Why not?”

There was no reason to bother hiding behind a facade now. That mask of innocence had been ripped wide open, and even though your hands trembled with fear, your jaw was set in defiance. Your voice was firm and accusatory, daring him to prove his “superior” intelligence to you again. It was incredibly ironic he was being outsmarted by being so fucking stupid.

As you stared Officer Cavella down in a glaring challenge, you waited for that spark to reach the edge of his temper.

And the explosion was glorious.

“Because we don’t use our bare hands you stupid bitch. You think we’re that dumb, we wouldn’t use gloves?”

Checkmate.

Officer Walker slammed his fist down on the dining table in complete frustration towards his partner.

“God damnit Cavella, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cavella rose from his chair so fast that he knocked it backwards, glaring between you and his partner as he pointed an angry finger towards you.

“You think I’m gonna let this whore talk to me like I’m fucking stupid-”

Walker stood to his full height quickly, shoving his own chair back as he got in his partner’s face and jabbed his finger into his chest. 

“You are fucking stupid! You just sold us out because you can’t control your goddamn temper!”

Cavella shoved his hand away in frustration as he scoffed, gesturing towards you again.

“Whatever, we’re gonna kill the bitch anyway-”

“No. He wants her alive. If we bring her back with one scr-”

“Who?”

Both of them turned to face you as your voice rose in volume to cut above their bickering. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that wasn’t infected with anger, and you were struggling to contain your own rage.

“Who wants me alive? Who’s the fucking pussy behind the curtain leading the rest of you around?”

Cavella swiftly pulled the gun from the holster on his hip as he took a step towards you, cocking the hammer with his thumb while snarling at you.

“Keep running that fucking mouth of yours and you won’t get to solve that mystery, Nancy Drew.”

As you went to retaliate, you noticed a shadow flash past the window in your kitchen, and your brows knit together in confusion. You were too pissed off to even be afraid as you glanced between Cavella and Walker.

“Who’s outside?”

Walker instantly stilled his advance at your words, his grip tightening on the handle of his gun that was still tucked into his holster while looking over at you in skepticism.

“What?”

“I just saw someone outside. Is that your fearless fucking leader? You gonna show your face like a man?! Or hide in the dark like a fucking p-“

Walker tugged you backwards roughly by your arm when you went to storm towards the window, clamping his hand tightly over your mouth to cut off your furious yells. His icy gray eyes were wide with apprehension as he hissed.

“Shut up. No one is with us.”

Glancing over at his partner, he silently motioned with his head towards him to go investigate. Cavella slowly began to approach the window with his gun in his hands, loosely aimed at whatever target he was about to discover. 

All of a sudden the sound of shattering glass pierced the silence, and your eyes widened seeing a metal canister rolling against the tiled floor of your kitchen. It exploded into a thick fog of ivory smoke that steadily began to fill the small space. Cavella began firing blindly through the gaping hole in your window, and you took the opportunity to run while Walker was distracted and yelling at his partner. 

You could hear Walker’s heavy footsteps pounding on the floor behind you, yelling your name, and you screamed when a bullet whizzed by your head and punched through the drywall in front of you. 

The second you reached your bathroom, you attempted to slam the door shut, but Walker caught the spine of your door and wedged it open with his hand. Turning around, you forced all your body weight back against it, struggling against his dominant strength. Glancing around in a frenzy, you reached your foot out towards the counter of the sink in front of you, and with a surge of adrenaline, you let out a feral scream as you shoved both of your feet forward against the sink to give you momentum against the door. A satisfying crunch sounded in your ears as Walker howled in pain and retracted his broken hand, causing the door to finally slam shut behind you. You swiftly twisted the lock into place on the door before backing away.

The sound of bullets raining down in rapid succession had you covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut as you attempted to breathe. Your lungs burned from running as fast as you ever had in your life, and with anxiety overflowing in your bloodstream, you were on the brink of hyperventilation. 

“Who the fuck are y-”

Bang bang.

The echo of two bullets cracking through a skull you could only assume belonged to Walker had your breath hitching in your throat. Muffled through the sound of your own labored breathing, you could hear his body drop to the floor just a few feet away from the door with a heavy thud. Your eyes went wide with terror as the thundering roar of heavy footsteps began to slowly strike closer and closer outside the door.

No. 

This isn’t how this ends.

This is not it.

Eyes frantically darting around your bathroom for something to use as a weapon, they landed on the horrified reflection of your own face. There was a small cut above your eyebrow from where a shard of glass had nicked you that was actively bleeding. Your pupils were completely blown wide open with hysteria, and your waterline was shimmering with unshed tears. You hadn’t seen yourself look this small and broken since you were a child.

Without thinking, you smashed your fist against the glass, sending hazardous shards falling into pieces in the sink like shiny raindrops. Grabbing the biggest one, you didn’t even flinch when it sliced deeply into the meat of your palm, and you only sent the jagged edge further into your skin as you clamped your fingers around it tightly, slicing them in the process. Your brain barely registered the warm, wet feeling of blood starting to cascade from the wounds on your hand, dripping onto the floor below you steadily like a leaky faucet.

Staring at the door in front of you in complete terror, you held the makeshift weapon out in front of yourself. The way the lights above you caught the reflection of the glass everytime it shook in your hand caused spheres of white to dance along the bathroom walls, as if there were a mirrorball on the ceiling.

As soon as the threatening shadow appeared right underneath the door, you willed the last shard of strength in your body to take over.

“Stay the fuck back! I have a gun, and I swear to God I will shoot you!”

Panic trembled in your voice almost as much as it did in your hands. On the other side of the door you heard a faint rustling noise, and then there was a gentle tapping of knuckles quietly knocking against the wood, accompanied by a voice you would recognize anywhere.

“Sweetheart?”

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary

[incognito-duo]

CHAT I DID HER LORE!! This version of Mona Lisa is fan made for Tales of the TMNT/ TMNT: Mutant Mayhem, she is inspired by the 1987’s version of the character!

Here’s a quick lore drop of Mona Lisa:

15 years ago…

Captain Flinch became a EX-TCRI member when he realized his own potential. Instead of mutants becoming a weapon for war, like Cynthia and TCRI wanted, he wanted to use mutants as his own goons that can find him the treasures that lie in and on the ocean.

Fortunately for Captain Flinch, he was able to make a small group of mutants to complete his plan.

While invading a cruise ship for loot to strengthen Captain Flinch’s ship, the youngest mutant in the group escaped his ship and into the cruise without anyone knowing. She was a lizard mutant who was just a toddler at the time.

A married couple who were scientists managed to escape Captain’s Flinch’s group of mutants. In the process of escaping the raided, fancy decorated cruise, they found this certain small mutant trying to eat an ice replica of the Mona Lisa. A pang of sympathy and parental care hit the two adults. (I think that’s how middle aged people work when they see little kids)

She wasn’t like the other mutants who tried to hurt everyone on board, this lizard was just an unprotected toddler.

Mr and Mrs. Need a name decided to raise this mutant as their own and named her Mona Lisa. For all her life, Mona was homeschooled and taken care of in an abandoned cruise (the same cruise after it got raided by Flinch) by her human parents. As a side hustle to their scientific career, the couple revamped the cruise and rent it out to rich people wanting to hold big events with it. Mona Lisa always has the duties to stay hidden but protect to cruise ship’s passengers.

Present time…

A big pizza brand rented Mona’s parent’s ship for their 100th anniversary celebration, a 12-hour costume party on a cruise! Peter’s Pizzas randomly distributed free tickets to the event in pizza boxes for handful of lucky winner.

Mona Lisa is now 15 years old. Because of this big pizza event, she is on bodyguard duty once again. However, this time, it’s a solo mission! No guidance from her parents (who are away on a business trip), no tips and tricks from others, and definitely no asking for help when things go wrongs.

Just trusty ole Mona!…

Well, that was the plan until a certain mutant turtle named Raphael tagged along.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A theory i have is that the reason Malleus isn't able to find the group sometimes when they go to a different dream, is because his dream self doesn't EXIST in the said dream. Don't you find it weird, the whole time MC, Grim and Dia-boys where in Lilia dream, no Malleus appeared BUT when dream baby Malleus is born then POOF here he is ? Take the pomefiore dream for example, no dream Malleus so no IRL Malleus. His dream selves are probably like gps or something to naviguate in Dreams -sarah

That’s… not a theory though 😅 The game essentially confirms that the Malleus is likely not capable of manifesting in a dream unless the circumstances of the dream are something he is reasonably familiar with. This is because magic in Twisted Wonderland is reliant on the limits of one’s imagination.

Because Lilia’s dream largely takes place in a period of time Malleus himself is not informed about, Malleus is not able to imagine it, and thus cannot appear yntil his own egg hatches. With that birth, Malleus now has a presence (ie “an understanding”) that allows him to enter the dream. It should also be noted that Malleus was keeping a close eye on Lilia’s dream in particular, since that’s someone he is close with—so naturally, when Lilia begins to “wake”, Malleus barges in using his new opening (his freshly hatched self) to fix things.

How Malleus’s UM works exactly is really dubious, so we can only guess the details. However, Idia tells us that while the “real” Malleus may be the boss that oversees everything, there also are many dream versions of Malleus that manage each individual dreamer.

Doesn’t that imply that there has to be a Malleus for every dream (and if not all of them, then surely most of them)? We probably just don’t see them in all instances because he isn’t a relevant character for the happiness of most of the NRC students (or, in the case of Vil, Kalim, and Jamil), they’re not at NRC in their dream worlds. There must still be Malleuses lurking around making sure the dreams are okay, and perhaps to serve as a point of entry for the “real” one. (… Still, it’s sort of funny yet sad to think about how many NRC students’ perfectly happy ideal worlds do not involve Malleus in any way, shape, or form.)

There’s a bunch of hoops the wake up squad has to jump through to not alert Malleus of their dream hopping. Ortho has to project holograms of the dreamers to trick the Malleuses overseeing their dreams into believing everything is going smoothly. They have to limit how many students can dream hop at once, because too many bodies could also tip Malleus off. Etc, etc, etc—it’s a lot of contrivances and rules. It’s like tying to tiptoe through a field you know is rigged with tons of booby traps.

I think their strategy seems to be working…? Cuz none of the Malleuses seem to have noticed to the degree where they would alert the real one to come in and stomp out the pests. So to me, Malleus not showing up doesn’t feel like the result of there being no Malleuses in those dream worlds to connect through. It’s more like he never got told in the first place that there’s an issue to be resolved.

Arguably, it should be a easier for Malleus to pull up to these dreams since they mostly take place in the present, a time period he can more easily imagine than 500 years in the past (Lilia’s dream). Some of the dreams (Idia’s, Rook’s, Epel’s, Sebek’s) take place AT Night Raven College too, a location Malleus is very familiar with as a third year student. If you want to count events (even though technically they are not canon to the main story), Malleus has also already visited the Scalding Sands in A Firelit Sky. Thus, he shouldn’t have trouble visiting Jamil’s dream either. Malleus isn’t chasing them because the game reasons that Idia’s “let’s keep Malleus distracted/keep him from noticing us!” plan is working.

bfkwvwiwkw I hope that made sense! Talking about Malleus’s dubiously defined dream magic always makes me get confused since it’s juggling a lot of details 💦

[nanowrimo]

Beyond the Word Count: A Book Editor's Guide to Writing a First Draft

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a beautifully designed writing app for fiction writers. Today, they've partnered with Kelly Norwood-Young, former book editor for Pan Macmillan and Penguin Random House, to bring you some pro tips on writing your first draft:

In my career as a book editor, I’ve reviewed hundreds of manuscripts. I've seen the joy of authors creating compelling tales, but also how disheartening it can be to rewrite a disjointed story. I’m here to give you some strategies to address common pitfalls so that you not only reach your NaNoWriMo goal, but also lay the groundwork for a manuscript that truly deserves to be called a gripping novel.

1. Have a plan.

Even if you’re more of a ‘pantser’ than a ‘planner’, it's really helpful to have an outline. I have two favourite approaches for this: the structure-first approach, and what I call the ‘Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach’.  

The structure-first approach

There are a lot of narrative frameworks for story structure, but the most foundational in Western fiction is the three-act structure. Here’s a handy guide that breaks each of the classical three acts into a day-by-day guide to NaNoWriMo: 

8-day guide to Act 1

14-day guide to Act 2

8-day guide to Act 3

The Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach

I love this quote from Phoebe Waller-Bridge: ‘I’ve never thought structure first. I’ve always thought material first, jokes first, character first ... But knowing the end really helps. Then you just go as far away from the end emotionally as you possibly can.’  

Sketch out your major story arcs, your character’s desires and conflicts, and the world they inhabit. The more you know your story's world and inhabitants, the less you'll stray into scenes that lack purpose or create plot and character inconsistencies. 

2. Keep the story moving.

Each word needs to propel your story forward. Superfluous details or tangents that don’t serve the narrative stall the momentum you’re trying to generate for your reader. 

There’s a trick you can use to move your story forward, called the question of reversibility. Ask yourself: How difficult would it be for my character to reverse their decision? The harder it would be for them to turn back, the more you’ve moved the plot forward. 

3. Plant clues carefully.

Plant important elements early and make sure every element, however subtle, serves a purpose (i.e. Chekhov’s Gun). 

Be sure to set up necessary components for your climax so that you can steer clear of Deus ex Machina (having that strong outline will help you here), and avoid red herrings unless they serve a clear, meaningful purpose (e.g. you’re writing a mystery and your readers expect some false leads). Misleading your readers without a payoff can erode their trust.

4. Write for the reader, not yourself.

‘There is only one thing you write for yourself, and that is a shopping list,’ insists Umberto Eco in On Literature. Even if writing, for you, is a therapeutic outlet, a form of self-expression, or a way to leave a legacy, you’re still writing to say something to someone else. Your story simply won’t be as strong if you forget your reader’s perspective. 

5. Keep daily editorial notes for your future self.

While editing should wait until at least December, end each day with a brief reflection, noting any off-course deviations, potential inconsistencies, areas to research further, or moments of inspiration to revisit when you start editing. 

These daily notes will be invaluable during the editing process, helping you to remember insights that are no longer fresh when you come back to the manuscript later.

6. Embrace the first-draft mentality.

There’s a lot you can do to ensure that your first draft is the best it can be before the end of November—but just as important is to understand that all first drafts have flaws.

As a book editor, I've witnessed manuscripts transform, sometimes unrecognizably, from their first drafts. Embrace the uncertainty and creative detours—because it's from this beautiful chaos that your story will find its true voice. 

Kelly Norwood-Young is a seasoned book editor and proofreader with comprehensive experience across various facets of manuscript editing. Her background includes roles at Pan Macmillan and Penguin Books, extending into a successful freelance career working with award-winning authors. Kelly's work, known for its precision and sensitivity to the author's voice, has been integral to the success of both new and established writers globally.

Try out First Draft Pro: All NaNoWriMo participants can use the discount code NANOWRIMO2023 for 20% off a premium subscription to First Draft Pro! Offer expires January 31, 2024.

[graceshouldwrite]

How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

[aro-absol]

I'm planning to go to a local pride parade with friends next month. It'll be my first time ever participating in a pride parade, and my first time being part of a pride event in general.

I'd love to wear an aro flag to show my colours and maybe find other aros. But the problem is that I don't know how to carry one.

So, a question to all queer manual wheelchair users: How do you wear/carry a flag at pride?

My first instinct would be to wear it as a cape like I've seen many pedestrians do at pride but I'm afraid it would get in the wheels and/or interfere with the pushing motion.

The next option would be to carry it on a pole to wave it around but a) I need both arms to move and b) I don't have the arm strength to hold it up for the whole parade. (And also I would have to get a pole.) So, that wouldn't work either.

Do any of you have more ideas? I'd be really grateful for any tips and tricks whatsoever.

I don't own an aro flag as of now but if I figure out how to take it to pride, I'd buy one. I already found an online shop that offers a 90 x 150 cm (3 x 5 ft) aromantic flag. It's even based in my country, so the shipping costs are alright. However, if I couldn't take it to pride, I wouldn't buy one as I'm not the type of person to use such a big pride flag as a room decoration.

[nondelphic]

hey! i was wondering if you have any advice for me: I am wanting to write an epic/high fantasy book, and i started with my worldbuilding, then i moved to characters and their individual arcs. my main struggle is coming up with the overarching plot, the main conflict. any tips for coming up with ideas?

thanks for the ask, anon!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

tbh i don't have a lot of experience writing fantasy, but! just because i don't have "a lot" doesn't mean i don't have any!! i was in a similar situation to you literally just a few weeks ago when i started worldbuilding and outlining a fantasy plot :D

so!! i'll just tell you the process of how i came up with my plot!! i hope it can help somewhat!

♡ pulling from your worldbuilding

the beauty of worldbuilding and having complete characters is that you literally have everything you need to START writing. but as you said, coming up with an overarching plot can be difficult. i don't know how extensive your worldbuilding is, but for me, my planning included a list of major historical events/eras in my fantasy world. from this, i just decided "okay, the plot is gonna take place during the *insert historical era from my fantasy world*."

then i'd think "okay... what was society like during this historical period?" what kind of power struggles, conflicts, or changes were happening at that time?" from there, the plot practically started writing itself! by narrowing down a specific time and place within your world, you're essentially placing your characters in a pressure cooker of events that are naturally going to generate conflict.

♡ character-driven plot

another approach you can take is to look at your characters’ arcs and ask yourself what situations would force them to grow or challenge their beliefs. think about what each character wants most in life—what would happen if they couldn’t get it? or what if they got it, but at a great cost? you can build the main conflict around these personal stakes, and that can really help drive your plot forward.

for example: say you have different species in your fantasy world, and one of your main characters belongs to a species that’s an outlier in their geographical area. maybe this species has been historically oppressed, or they’re seen as a threat due to some misunderstood ability or ancient conflict. you could focus on how your character fits into the world—they might struggle with their identity, trying to prove their worth in a society that fears or rejects them. this inner conflict could be the spark for a much larger plot, like starting a rebellion or becoming the key to resolving a long-standing feud between species. their personal journey, then, could naturally tie into the broader conflict of your story.

the key here is to use the uniqueness of your character's background and situation to fuel the plot. how they navigate the world around them can lead to choices and events that shape the entire story!

♡ external threats

sometimes the easiest way to spark an overarching plot is by introducing a big external threat. it could be anything from an invading empire, a natural disaster, or even a rising rebellion. something that shakes up the world your characters are comfortable in and forces them into action. this external conflict can intersect with their personal journeys and create some interesting tension.

♡ combining personal and world stakes

the most gripping plots often combine both personal and external stakes. maybe your character is fighting for their home or family, but there’s a much larger political or magical conflict brewing that they become a part of. it’s not just about saving themselves, but the entire kingdom or world. the trick is to make sure the personal stakes are always tied into the larger conflict, so it feels cohesive.

♡ take inspiration from your fav fantasy works

don’t be afraid to pull ideas from the things you love! if a specific scene, mission, or plotline really stuck with you in a book, game or movie, ask yourself why. for example, when i came up with my fantasy plot, i was inspired by a mission in the witcher 3 where geralt and triss are navigating the tunnels under novigrad. triss, living in secret as a mage, is forced to use these hidden passageways to carry out her plans. i remember thinking, “hmm… tunnels or catacombs are a great way for people with secret missions to carry out said missions!” that one detail sparked an entire subplot for me, where certain characters use an underground network to secretly move around, gather intel, and plot revolutions.

you can take bits and pieces from your favorite stories and use them as springboards for your own original ideas. sometimes it’s a specific setting, a character dynamic, or even the vibe of a scene that can get your creative wheels turning. the key is to make it your own and let it evolve naturally in your world!

i hope these ideas don't sound too "obvious" or like "well, duh," but rather a reminder that you've already done the worldbuilding, so use it!!

good luck with your epic fantasy!! sending digital hugs filled with all the creative energy i have left today to you and anyone else reading this (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 20 (Vampire x Reader x Werewolf)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Links under cut!

x x x x x

First | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

In the end, Jemma’s location spell does the trick. Well, kind of. The enchantment leads you through paranormal markets under the city, finding the right people to interrogate. It turns out vampires have few friends in your city. People who seek out vampires are either signing their own death warrant or ready to stake a few of the arrogant bloodsuckers.

Either way, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. One lead turns into a dead end. Another has no substantial foundation. Yet another tries to extort money and goods out of you, which led to Jemma actually turning that informant into a toad. With each new bit of information, you’re all led further and further out of the city.

Eventually, weeks after Tabaeus left, a tip finally strikes solid and true.

Two states away from home, you sit in a rental car with Jemma, Ewan, Liuva and Bjarka at a late-night diner. Despite the time of night and the fact the building is shuttered up, the mall across the way from the diner is seemingly popular.

Even when you ask the waitress - Tess, she/her - if there’s an event going on over at the mall, she shoots you a puzzled look. When her eyes flick up to the window, you spot a glaze tinting her gaze as she informs you, “Nothing’s supposed to be happening over there. The old mall is about as dead as it ever is.”

Even as the waitress stares, you watch one group head into the allegedly abandoned building as others leave. Some are elegant, others are crude and punkish. Yet it seems Tess does not see or notice them.

As the waitress falls into her rehearsed spiel, you share a look with Ewan and Jemma. Tess doesn’t seem to acknowledge the dense air settling around your group as you all realize she - and likely the rest of the diner’s staff - is under some vampiric sway. You push the discomfort away before ordering.

Something burns in your chest. Tabaeus has to be nearby. This feels like the right place, but you have no reason beyond the smoldering in your chest. You never felt like this with any other lead before. Or maybe you’re just tired of searching, sick of getting your hopes up.

After you’ve finished your meal - saying nothing further of the mall to the staff - the three of you trudge to the parking lot.

“What’s the plan?” Ewan takes out his phone, swiping through random apps. It’s only when he points vaguely toward the highway that you realize he’s putting on a front for anyone potentially spying on you. His green eyes tilt toward you, uncharacteristic seriousness making his words sobering, “Are we heading in now or biding time?”

“We should bust in, magic blazing.” From the backseat, Jemma leans forward, her own phone in hand. She, too, has taken up Ewan’s ruse.

Unlike the other two, you don’t bother with a phone. Shaking your head, you fight the urge to flick your gaze back toward the mall. “I think we should be subtle.”

Silence settles over the car as Jemma and Ewan continue to look at their phones, their hands, you. Anywhere but directly at the mall. If anyone watched your little crew, they’d believe it wasn’t even on your radar, you think.

Finally, something glints in Jemma’s eyes as she meets your gaze, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t malls usually have skylights or vents on the roof?”

“They’ll hear us coming.” Another shake of your head. Besides, how would the three of you get up there without causing a commotion?

Ewan nods to the back where the imps-turned-sugar gliders sit with ethereal intelligence gleaming in their eyes. The two have been silent as potential plans have bounced around the car. Upon them being noticed, Bjarka and Liuvia exchange a look. Wordless communication flies between them until Bjarka nods and says, “We will do it for a pie.”

You frown at their little demand. “I thought you wanted Tabaeus back.”

“We do,” Liuvia says, but they smile in a way that reminds you they are supernatural, “But we also want pie. A strawberry rhubarb one.”

With a heavy sigh, you glance from the imps to Jemma and Ewan. They both return your look with mild amusement and shrug.

“Ugh fine,” you sigh as you open your door. “You could’ve said something when we were still inside.”

“You didn’t ask,” chirrups one of the imps, though you’re not sure which as the door closes. You trek back to the diner, still fighting the urge to look toward the mall. Despite your efforts to remain realistic, you can’t help but feel a little lighter. As if you were one step closer to a conclusion.

—

It’s early morning, just as the sun half climbs above the horizon line, when you decide to put your plan into action. Through a scrying mirror conjured up by Jemma, you watch as Bjarka and Liuvia embark toward the mall from the nearby woods you deposited them in the night previous. The two dart along the dwindling shadows as dawn rises. As squirrels, they easily scale the building and prance along the roof with light steps. They duck and bounce around, taking stock of their options as far as vents, grates, and skylights go.

As the imps decide their next course of action, the rest of you wait. Liuvia and Bjarka eventually pry a grate off a vent and clatter into the metal tunnel. The image on the mirror follows as they scurry through the twisty ventilation. The motion and lighting makes your stomach cramp, so you turn away.

You sit in the backseat with Jemma, who continues to watch the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. In the front, Ewan drives. Last night, after leaving the imps behind, the rest of you drove off and found a clearing to hunker down in for the night. Sleep hadn’t been easy and, now, exhaustion battles in your veins with mounting adrenaline as you near the mall again.

Your plan banks on the fact Lachlan and Tabaeus are different - older, stronger, more powerful - than the average vampire. That should make walking into the mall-turned-vampire-nest easier. Well, as long as Bjarka and Liuvia managed to unlock a door for you.

As Ewan pulls the car into the mall’s parking lot and settles the car in a spot close to the door, he turns to Jemma. “How’re the smallfries doing?”

“They can see us and they’re unlocking the door now,” Jemma answers and, with a wave of her hand, the scrying mirror fizzles off. She’s already climbing out of the car, stowing the mirror in her bag. Despite long conversations last night, Ewan and yourself weren’t able to dissuade the witch from coming along.

“Ready?” Ewan pops his door open, though he’s still turned toward you. Concern etches into his features, as if he’s on the brink of saying you didn’t have to come along. He could handle this, he could save Tabaeus in your place.

But he can’t. Something in you knows this. With a swallow, you nod and open your own door.

The trek into the mall is short and blessedly uneventful. There don’t appear to be any vampiric thralls or familiars standing guard. Perhaps it is hubris on Lachlan’s part, but you don’t dismiss the possibilities of guards or problems deeper inside the building.

Liuvia and Bjarka hitch a ride in Jemma’s bag as Ewan leads your group, with you smack in the middle. He tilts his face up, nose twitching. The barest of a transformation touches Ewan’s features. Some thicker hair, a slew of stubble, the vaguest shift of a nose becoming a snout. He’s delaying the transformation to keep the vampires from sensing him, but you’re sure he’s nervous.

Hell, you’re nervous. You strain to hear the smallest sound, nearly holding your breath the farther you wander into the mall. For the most part, it’s silent. You don’t see or sense anyone else around, other than your group. Though that’s not saying much, considering you’re just a human. With a glance to Jemma, then to Ewan, you confirm nothing seems immediately suspicious.

Though their features are pinched as they focus, neither says or indicates a danger is nearby.

Faintly, you wonder how long he can hold a semi-shift as your eyes take in the corridor. Illumination surprisingly spills in from the sunlights. The stores appear chained and locked, the windows blacked out. Squinting at the locks and darkness, you wonder if there’s more beyond. Is each store a vampire’s personal territory? Is it like a hotel here? Or are they all lower in the building?

All five of you remain as silent as possible as you journey deeper and deeper. Past stores, through the food court, to a stairwell. Jemma conjures up a ball of light without further instruction, lighting the stairs. The aesthetic of the mall holds firm with tiled walls as you descend to the underground section of the mall. A vague chill creeps along your limbs, realizing you’re now underground.

Apparently, the basement is still a commercial area, you realized as the stairs open up to another floor of storefronts. Here, however, the stores are larger and, if you squint, you realize there’s faded signs like ‘bowling alley’ and ‘community development’ hanging over the entryways. No light manages to filter this far down, though. You try not to think about that as you follow Ewan, who keeps close to the walls.

Along with the faint chill, the silence of the area weighs heavily in your ears. It’s too quiet, even as your group scuttles over the expanse of tiled floor.

Quickly enough, you’re led down a slightly obscured hall, before Ewan finds another door. Pushing it open reveals a second set of stairs. This time, the stairwell feels industrial. There’s no happy white-and-blue tiled designs. Just stark metal and industrial grey that devolves into shadows as you peer down into the stairwell.

There’s a brief moment when you look at Ewan and Jemma. Their gaze seeks yours as well, checking to see if you’re still determined to continue. As one, the three of you nod. Jemma hoists the light a fraction higher and it glows a little more intently as you all descend.

The atmosphere grows colder, now raking across any bare skin. Dankness tinges the air as you notice thick gatherings of cobwebs and dead rats on the stairs. Eventually, you come to a landing that leads to a heavy door. The air is locked in your lungs as Ewan slowly shoulders the door open, obscuring your view as he peers around the other side.

After a beat, he opens the door further and the scent of damp and mildew overpowers the air around you. You choke down a cough as Ewan motions for you to follow him into a darkened hall.

If possible, it’s even harder to discern your surroundings now as you follow the werewolf. The shadows seem deeper, darker, more dangerous. The chill in the air bites at your throat. From the light of Jemma’s magic orb, your gaze follows various pipes and catches on rusted, industrial machinery. You have no clue what this all is. Elevator and escalator mechanisms? Gas piping for the food court? Long-abandoned generators?

Whatever is down here, you feel the vague sensation of continuing to go downward, on a gentle slope.

A startle rocks through you as you freeze, hearing something skitter on the concrete floor and echo in the distance. The other two pause. In the span of a breath, fur sprouts from Ewan and his face elongates further, his limbs and muscles growing. A crackle of energy hisses behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and see what Jemma has conjured.

A low rumble of a growl catches in Ewan’s throat as you all wait.

Nothing and no one makes itself known. Slowly, you all carry on in the darkness.

You’re not sure how far you walk when Ewan stops and turns suddenly. You follow as he stalks down an adjacent hall - one you barely even saw - and stops at a wrought-iron door. This time, he doesn’t look at you and Jemma.

Ewan reaches for the large handle, yanking it open so fast your heart trips.

Soft, warm light spills over you from the room on the other side of the door. Rapidly, you blink to dispel the blots of blurry color. The room slowly takes shape in front of your eyes.

Lanterns hang around a large circular room, glowing low and vague. The room is as industrial as the rest of the underground hell, with large pipes and metal and machines. At odds with the metal, however, are mountains of cushions and fabrics draped haphazardly around the room. The pillows and fabrics - of all colors and styles and sheerness levels - bring some color to the deary grey, but somehow that makes the room worse. It sends agitation scraping down your spine.

Then your gaze lights on Tabaeus.

They are chained to a hulking system of pipes, lounging on a smaller hill of pillows. They’re naked, covered only in bruises and fresh bite marks. Their head lolls back, their hair a tangled waterfall. Your heart cracks at the sight, the rest of the world melting away as you step closer to them.

“You’re free to try and take Tabaeus, but… Well, they likely won’t go. This is what they know, this is home.” Lachlan’s voice shocks you from your thoughts. Your attention jerks to Ewan and Jemma, both looking as startled as you feel. Their attention doesn’t snap to the door you just entered from - nor any other dark crevice on your level.

No, you realize their attention is tilted upward. You follow the angle of their gazes and dread curdles in your guts. Lachlan is positioned overhead, on some sort of walkway that snakes through the pipes. He sits on a railing, draped in a way that screams egotistical ease and surety. Others linger behind him, ranging in muted hues and wearing clothing from an array of eras. More pallid vampires start to poke their attention out from the dark shadows of the room, all watching you with red eyes.

Mounting dismay fills your chest before you see Lachlan’s smile twists into something smug. In an instant, rage flares in your chest. Your hands fist at your sides, your shoulders straightening as you glare up at Lachlan. Somehow, through the sick sensations in your stomach, you manage to bite out, “Let Tabaeus be the judge of that.”

Lachlan’s answering chuckle makes your blood boil as he languidly motions toward Tabaeus. “Be my guest.”

[peonycats]

You might have noticed that i havent been posting art that much recently, which has been caused by a variety of reasons, but one of which is that I've been hunkered down and working on this series about my Siberian OCs!!! Really proud of how these turned out, esp the embroidery and patterns, even if i did fry my hand a bit in the process LOL

Click the read more for icons and personality descriptions written by @irithnova, who I share many of these OCs with :3c

Yukagir: Resident old lady surrounded by (who she sometimes considers annoying) youngins, sweet demeanour and pleasant to talk to, though she isn't immune to giving a good scolding when a younger Siberian is annoying her. Lots of knowledge from her many years when it comes to practical stuff so is good with her hands, though she finds other things difficult to remember… Sakha: Approachable and outgoing, hardheaded and unafraid to speak his mind. Big organiser of events and knows who everyone is - is always trying to extend his reach, even outside of Siberia. Smokes like there's no tomorrow. Was kind of a menace in his youth - his neighbours don't let him forget. Is artistic at heart, has sketchbooks full of illustrations and is pretty crafty. Saul Goodman who? Evenia: Easy going but usually keeps to himself, often mistaken for Evenkia much to his chagrin. Somewhat playful, loves some good banter. Excellent storyteller and has a million random tips and tricks stored in his head. Sporty, loves to challenge people to a race.

Dolgan: Similar to Sakha, she is also hard headed and unafraid to speak her mind, seeing as he raised her. Very studious and serious about her research, calculative about a lot of her actions. Seems timid on the surface because of her appearance, but she's managed to wield a lot of influence. Usually decked out in pretty clothing and jewellery from Sakha. Evenkia: Likes to take on a mentor role to those younger than him, like he did with Sakha. Very knowledgeable and enjoys problem solving. Has a bit of a reputation for dumping children of his onto others, though you would never guess this through his appearance alone. Enjoys collecting things, nerdy. Ket: Serious faced mostly and protective of himself, quite reserved, so it means a lot when he lets his guard down. Very particular about his routines, though this has made him quite good at planning and organising. Caught up in his own thoughts a lot - makes sense seeing as he's the last survivor of the Yenisein family. 

Chukotka: Social butterfly and very outgoing. Likes to be sort of a big sister figure to people, including North American groups. May seem scatterbrained and silly on the surface but she is far more clever than she lets on. Very girly and bubbly, wears jewellery that jingles as she walks past. Koryak: "Sibling" of Chukotka but personality wise he's quite different - he takes himself a bit more seriously. Dry sense of humour, and like Ket, he can be pretty sarcastic. Has a reputation of being a troublemaker (blame Russia for that), he's really not though. Being somewhat strung up is unfortunately his default these days. Itelmen: Woman respecter™ (no seriously look up the Itelmens' original polytheistic religion). Invites the other Siberians to his celebrations and is a pretty good host, but is prone to being possessive over them (as in, he wants to remind them that this is HIS tradition so don't try and claim it 🙄). Also prone to unprompted malding. His hair is well styled and maintained, though he pretends like he does nothing to it so as to not give up his secrets.

BONUS: