#I feel like it always ends with too much added fluff to fill purposeful vague areas and accidentally covers up the actual facts we have

[dykedvonte]

You brought up a lot of good points but one you mentioned and I always see being forgotten is Anya’s perspective on what she wants done.

When she asks Curly what he would’ve done it’s not accusatory or her reacting to badly to already empty promises but almost a genuine plea. She wants to know what he would’ve done and I think that was his biggest missed chance to actually provide support for her and possibly come up with a plan with her that made her feel more secure and not anxious enough to tell Jimmy so soon. Her telling him was a very real act of desperation in my mind. Hoping that he’d have some epiphany or realize the gravity of his actions and be reasonable. With a guy like Jimmy that is very far fetched but you can’t expect her to not want to be hopeful or have the best judgment in such a state of distress.

Everyone immediately assumes Anya wants the biggest punishment and the most consequences for Jimmy in those moments. No one ever asks what Anya actually wanted to be done outside of wanting to be heard and understood. Everyone assumes what she wanted to be done has something to do with the locks and med bay, with the gun or Curly physically confronting Jimmy. It’s all solely based on the discussions and arguments of what he could’ve done but again those conversations always forget those solutions are not realistic for what the setting and story are trying to comment on on so many different scales. It’s making her desires linked directly with Curly’s actions and I think that misses so much on the discussion for her.

She never asks for locks but comments on them. She hides the gun because she can also understand why Curly would not want her or any crew member to have unfettered access to it, but she also knows she can’t let Jimmy have access to it by leaving it in place. Discussing what Anya wants solely through the physical blocks that could be provided misses out on what she wanted on a social factor, a very big aspect of the game. She wanted to be heard and I feel like people aren’t hearing her when they solely talk about her desires under a lense of just needing protection.

It’s harsh to say, but the assault already occurred, there’s no act Curly could’ve taken to nullify that fact and I think people lump that together in the whole conversation, which also takes the blame and responsibility of that action off of Jimmy entirely. The one concrete want and desire from Anya we have is wanting to be understood. Her comments and questions are all subtle ways to have the others, mainly Curly, to get where she’s coming from without directly having to say it. She doesn’t just want to have to tell him every time but have those little details be seen. She likely knows he can’t magically add locks to the room, but she wants him to understand her concerns on why there aren’t any in the first place. She wants him to get why Jimmy’s comments make her so uncomfortable but he doesn’t, not to the extent he needs to. He tries to keep them seperate but the act feels hollow cause he doesn’t understand exactly why it’s such a relief for her.

I think Anya just wanted Curly to get it more than anything else. Even if he did all what people say he could’ve it would always be a hollow feeling for Anya if he didn’t understand why it was an issue for her in the first place and that’s a big thing people miss in the conversation. It’s not just caring about her concerns, which he shows he does, but seeing where they stem from. Maybe she did want the authorities involved, maybe she did want Jimmy dead. None of that would feel good if Curly was just following along with it and that’s a big point of the dead pixel. He doesn’t get why it’s a problem for her but accepts it as a problem. That not getting it is a damning factor for him and the rest of the crew in the end.

Anya and Curly to me are two characters that get each other but also don’t understand each other. They have similar sentiments but they go about things in such different ways they are like tragic but good fun house mirrors to each other. To not know but understand. To understand but not know. People treat aspects of the game as if things are spelled out for the characters when they aren’t even spelled out for us. That’s part of the commentary and I wish people understood how much of that is part of Anya’s character motivations.

Really like the recent analysis. I know I speak of curly in a more defensive way than most but I generally try to get the point you made across at the end of the day with my analyses on him and his behaviors.

People love to lock analyses around Curly solely based on what he could’ve done as a physical action and have this avoidance to acknowledging the realistic barriers at play when it comes to those solutions. It’s. The game tries to treat the pre-crash section as if they are grounded in social and organizational realities. So the what if he did this questions about the situation always fall short when the real answer is he either couldn’t or it wasn’t an actual viable option. But then when they talk about what he actually did do it’s surrounded by such bad faith interpretations that his actions were completely intentional or still not affected by outside sources. He’s a very much “road to hell is paved with good intentions” character. He cared too much and that’s a big part of his problem.

There’s such a “perfect victim or nothing” mindset in the fandom where people can’t admit that there are no such things as perfect victims but that also shouldn’t mean that even if there were it would absolve them of the mistakes they made. People want to moralize every action of every character that they don’t realize that some actions are done without any specific morale factor. People just do things, like you said. People assumed failed intentions immediately flip the thought process behind them “he meant to do good but bad happened, he must be bad” and that just is not how people work. It’s how perceptions work but only of the observer.

It’s such a sensitive topic because, yes, you are supposed to be frustrated, even mad, at what Curly didn’t do, but you have to acknowledge the fact these were good intentioned acts even if that good intent did jack squat in the end. That his responses are human and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable and hurt that they were realistic faults of his.

He enabled his friend and it ended bad for everyone including him. No one really tries to argue this fact but everyone seems to think it has to be tied to the morale dilemma and not certain human natures and social factors.

This is all to ask, why do you personally lean towards thinking Curly wouldn’t turn Jimmy in? Are you speaking in the short term of realizing how bad he got or long-term/overall? I feel like he could but it would not be easy and no matter the necessity he’d always have this guilt at feeling bad for doing it.

Ah yes Curly the most imperfect human man character.

Yep yep yep absolutely, people love to assign morality onto characters and call them good or bad and diminishing the depth and nuance of Mouthwashing, filling discussions with bad-faith interpretations or speculating on inconcrete understandings of the incomplete, intentionally vague, context. I adore Mouthwashing to no end for having this oppressive suffocating and constant atmosphere surrounding everything in the game. Really shows off that the environment festers, no one well-meaning guy could create a happy ending with individual actions alone because it's all systematic.

To elaborate from your question tho, at the point Curly was in (if Anya wasn't pregnant scenario), definitely no don't think so (would depend on Anya a too on whether or not she would go to the authorities outside). Curly knew Jimmy was a danger, and I do believe that subconsciously Anya's report to him on Jimmy gnaws at him, but not vividly enough. I want to point out a moment where Anya tells him about the pregnancy, he begins asking "Who would you-", then he's nudged by Anya that she told him and he should know who it is, and he does, instantly saying he's known him a long time and will talk to him. That moment of, for a second not connecting that Jimmy is the assaulter responsible just makes me drag my palm across my face for how much of a man (derogatory) Curly acted like for one dialogue line. Like he just 'forgot' for a brief moment that Jimmy harassed Anya prior? Granted, he instantly believes and takes Anya seriously, immediately dropping the search for the gun he was on in that scene, realizing the severity of the situation and of Jimmy. We also don't know what Anya has told him specifically, how long ago it happened, etc. but the 'implications' of the scene make me believe Jimmy's known sexual harassment on the ship slipped Curly's mind due to him being more invested in "the bigger picture" of Jimmy, not latching onto a harmful and a very serious fucking trivia fact about Jimmy because of his perception of who his friend is as a whole (and with his foggy sleep-deprived mind at the moment), 'losing a needle in a haystack' with how much unknown history Curly and Jimmy shared, so to say.

Maaaybe in some other circumstances, like if Jimmy didn't crash the ship or smth long term I could see him doing it, it would take a lot effort like you said, no matter the necessity. We will never know. If we're going into speculation and imaginary scenarios though, if Anya HERSELF were to try and get justice, Curly would be backing her up undoubtedly (still not disconnecting himself from Jimmy though and feeling guilt on his behalf). But that's all suppositions from my reading of the characters.

[soldouthaz]

hi!! these past few months i’ve gotten several asks about all different parts of my writing process and i thought i’d go ahead and make a full post that i can refer people back to in the future! with the fests coming up as well hopefully it may help someone because i know i always love reading about author’s processes! feel free to let me know if i’ve forgotten anything :) 

DISCLAIMER: this is MY writing process. these are my own opinions and maybe not methods that will work blanketly for everyone. writing is different for every person and you should always do what works best for you personally! 

this post will be split into four parts - before, during, after, and other tips and things to remember :)

inspiration & idea 

this is typically either the easiest or the absolute most difficult part of writing a fic. sometimes you begin with an exact idea and other times you want to write but have no idea where to start. personally i tend to draw inspiration from a few places in particular. writing prompt and dialogue blogs, although sometimes a bit cliche, are a huge help when trying to come up with ideas for scenes and outlines. these are some good ones – here, here, and here if you need some inspiration! pinterest and weheartit are also great places to search for inspiration both before or after you’ve settled on an idea. find an aesthetic you like and base the characters around it, do some world-building, create folders for your characters - this is a good place to reference back to while you’re writing! at this point i just try to pick something that i feel like ‘calls to me’ and leave the rest for later. the last avenue that i use to think of fic ideas is real life. i think of small things that have happened to me or to someone i know and make them much more dramatic and layered. add in some fluff or angst or whatever aspect fits and usually a storyline begins to carve itself!

outline 

once you have an idea, making an outline can help you figure out if it’s going to work for you or not. nailing down the important details and plot points before you begin writing is crucial so that you have a purpose to your scenes, so that things don’t feel repetitive or pointless. when i outline i tend to organize by word count. for instance, by the 5k mark let’s say i’d like to already have established what character A does for a living and some of their interests, and i’d like character B to be vaguely introduced. by 10k i’d like the characters to have formed a friendship and for the conflict to have been introduced, so on and so forth. the plot spacing may differ based on the goal word count for a fic (do things happen quickly or is it a slow burn? etc.). 

next I make a tentative timeline for the fic. I have to give myself sufficient time to plan and to write without rushing myself, but also make it reasonable enough that i can still look forward to it! writing takes different amounts of time for different people, but the more you write the more you’ll be able to estimate how long a certain word count is going to take you to complete. also, as far as advice goes, decide if you’re going to write everything and publish at once or if you’re going to upload weekly chapters, etc. i strongly recommend publishing a full work at once. typically people shy away from unfinished works and it can be very disheartening when there are almost no reads. publishing all at once will raise the chances of your fic being read and shared and will also help you as a writer not to make mistakes because you are able to go back and fix/edit certain plot points as you write. 

organization 

if you have more than one wip at a time, it can be really helpful to have some sort of organization in place. i write primarily in google docs, so i have one master doc with all of my wip information inside of it. i use a numbered chart (the docs themselves are titled with numbers only and correspond to the number in the chart) that has the tentative title, the goal word count, the current word count, which pov i plan to write from, and an estimated posting date. you can also limit the number of wips you have this way.once a work is published i move it from my wip list to my completed list, with the title, the final word count, and a link to the posted story. this part is optional, it just helps me to be able to see all of it in one place. i’ve found this method to be much more helpful than just making random notes on my phone that i forget about within the hour!

research 

depending on the topic of your fic and the setting, you may need to do some research beforehand. if it’s historical, I brush up on the history of it and watch some films or read some books about the time period to get a feel for the vernacular and style, etc.. if the protagonist has a job i’m unfamiliar with I search up what they do, how much they make, where they work, and things like that. it’s unlikely that someone is going to fact check every little thing, but accuracy when it comes to these topics is very admirable and i feel like it really adds a lot of depth and authenticity to a fic. 

another fun activity for this portion of planning is designing the characters. i try to do this for a lot of mine and experiment with personality traits, quirks, and appearances, and to create a character that feels layered as opposed to just surface level. it’s fun for me to figure out their morals and motives and opinions and to play around with those and see if they can be changed throughout the course of the story. an interesting activity here is to take personality tests from what you think they would answer about themselves! then, even if only subconsciously, your character now has interests and hobbies and feels more real, which will definitely show through when you write. there are some for you to take here, here, here, and here, and this is also a good resource.

atmosphere 

(meaning in real life, not the setting of a fic). i tend to produce what i feel is my best work at night, after dinner when i have nothing else to do for the day and i can just relax. having a designated time and space to write really helps with motivation and focus, and can be the difference in accomplishing your time goals for the fic. feel free to try different things like adding music while you write (i write with headphones in and music blasting!) and adjust your surroundings to your liking. put on noise cancelling headphones, stop the clock that keeps ticking in the background or turn up the floor fan to drown other things out, or play some ambience videos from youtube to help you focus. whatever works! sometimes i also create playlists for my fics that i listen to while writing them which can add some more depth to the story too! being comfortable and not distracted are my two main requirements. also, unless it’s for music or research purposes, i would suggest distancing a bit from your phone as well!

word vomit 

this is one of the most frustrating parts of writing but i can’t explain how many times it’s helped me, especially when i’m trying to reach a certain word count. i like to do an exercise when i don’t know what to write or i just have a vague idea where i sit down and just write. i don’t let myself backspace anything (unless it’s a small typo or something minor like that) and i just see where i end up. the reason why this is so helpful is because a lot of times subconsciously our brains already have some kind of idea of a direction to go in or what should be included. though this rough draft almost never makes it into my final piece and frankly doesn’t make much sense, i’m able to go back and read over it and think oh! that’s a good point, i can also write about [random plot point] here! as i think of it.

dialogue 

the very first part of a scene that i write is the dialogue. personally i find it the easiest, and it helps me make a skeleton of a scene where i only have to fill in the descriptions in between. most of the time getting the dialogue written can help to visualize a scene and make conversation flow easily when you aren’t distracted with everything else going on in the scene. a lot of times if you’re focused on what a background character is doing the actual speaking may end up choppy or not make sense when you’re finished with it, which is usually my issue. this method is a good idea to use if you find yourself stuck on a scene or if you don’t know what you want the setting to be yet. if the dialogue you wrote doesn’t fit just right once you’ve added in the rest of the scene, you can always alter it to your liking.

taking breaks 

this is the key to staying motivated for me. if i push myself too hard or write for too long i get frustrated and struggle to keep the flow going. it’s important to take a break when that happens because it becomes very obvious in your writing when you aren’t inspired. you’re more likely to take the easy way out of conflicts and dialogue and it could completely change the tone of the fic. by this i don’t mean procrastinate writing, but definitely make sure not to over-write. writing should be fun, not stressful.

similar fics 

this step is 100% optional, but i find that it really helps me. when i read other author’s fics and i get inspired, the scene really sticks in my brain. to avoid accidentally copying someone’s ideas from their own fic, if i know that i’m writing something similar, i avoid reading any fic with a similar premise during the entire writing process. even if i think i won’t, often times i’ll subconsciously mirror a scene or a piece of dialogue from another fic without meaning to. this is definitely something to look for when you’re reading it back over!

balanced elements 

this step really just depends on the type of fic i’m going for, but i’ve found that fics with some balance to them tend to do better than others. by this i mean fics that have a little of each important element like angst, fluff, smut, etc.. of course, this differs from fic to fic depending on the plot. if it’s a pwp, obviously the main element will be smut. if it’s got some heavy topics in it it may be primarily angst, or a holiday fic might be just fluff. all of these are okay on their own but it’s super easy to mix them together to create more realistic scenes and meaningful emotion in the dialogue. in a pwp i try to add some back story into it, something a little angsty or that gives the smut more meaning than just surface level (unless of course that’s what you’re going for!). on the flip side, you could take a really fluffy fic and at some smutty elements that enhance the love-y feelings from the fluff. even fluff/angst might be fun to explore! my point is that realistically we feel many emotions at once, all the time. when i write one alone my writing often feels like it falls flat and my message/theme doesn’t come across the way that i want it to.

resources 

there is a list of resources and links at the bottom of this post that may help during the writing process! they are ones that I have saved to look back at when I get stuck!

read it over 

this is my least favorite step. at this point, once i’ve finished the fic, i just want to post it as-is. i don’t feel like reading it over or doing edits - i just want to be finished with it. the benefits outweigh my dislike of it though, so i make myself do it anyway. it’s necessary (for me) to take a short break between when i finish it and when i read it over so that i can look at it with fresh eyes, just a day or two at least. the most important advice that i can give here would probably be not to delete anything you don’t like immediately. almost 100% of the time something can be re-written without being deleted, so if you don’t like the way a sentence is structured or the way a character speaks in a certain scene, don’t delete it! just see if you can rewrite it to model what you’re going for better. this step helps me to stay above my goal word count and not to let my insecurity get the best of me. everybody is their own worst critic, but usually there’s a reason you wrote something down, so give it every chance before you get rid of it altogether. i wrote about this here as well.

beta’s 

i’m going to link to another post i answered about betas here!

choosing a title 

when it’s time to choose a title for a fic i usually pick from one of four places. the first is a catchphrase from the fic. if there’s a recurring theme or nickname or description, it may be a good idea to title it the same thing so that readers will connect the title with that detail and remember it more easily in the future. the second place is from a song. there’s a lyric for nearly every different message and emotion, so there’s a high chance of being able to find one that goes hand-in-hand with a fic. the third place i look is in poems. i’m personally a big fan of lang leav, michael faudet, and bukowski, among others, and poetry usually also features a wide range of themes to choose from. the last idea i resort to when i can’t come up with anything else, which is to take a word that you feel represents the fic and translate it into another language like french or spanish, among others, or pick a word that has a meaning that corresponds with the fic. although there are no right or wrong titles, i would suggest to try not to pick a title that’s been used a lot already, or one that you think might be easily forgettable. even if you think it might be odd or not typical, people are going to remember it much more than if it’d just been a regular title.

choosing a summary 

this step is also kind of hit or miss for me! either i know from the beginning what i want my summary to be or i struggle up until the last second trying to come up with one. there isn’t really a right or wrong summary – except for one. my advice here is please, please don’t just put ‘i suck at summaries! just read it!’. people tend to gravitate toward fics if the author seems confident in their own abilities as opposed to someone quite literally pleading with them to read. other than that, there are several types of summaries that i see a lot of. personally i like to use a snippet from my fics in italics, so that people can get a feel of what my writing style is like beforehand. when i write drabbles though, i usually come up with a quick, occasionally witty tidbit of a summary to grab people’s attention. for example: 

a longer fic summary

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head. 

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. 

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.” 

(from my fic baby blue)

+

a shorter fic summary

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare. 

and louis. 

(from my fic like it’s a game)

+

and sometimes people use both as well, like this one from @falsegoodnight​ ‘s fic, before we knew – 

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?” 

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles. It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it. He hates everything about his supposed soulmate. He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples. 

- 

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

+

and this link has some other ideas and tips for writing summaries that I found to be very helpful! 

posting a fic 

as far as tags and ratings go, THIS PART IS IMPORTANT! all of the steps are in one way or another, but this one is crucial that it’s done correctly. warnings and tags can absolutely make or break a fic. people tend to have very strong preferences when it comes to fics so i try to be as specific as possible without giving the entire story away in the tags. if you’re afraid of doing that, you can always put the full warnings in the note before the fic and tell people to check there before reading. i won’t list all of the possible triggers here but be sure to look those up if you are unfamiliar with some of the common ones. when it comes to tags, you’re always better safe than sorry! i like to tell people they’re free to message me and ask about something if they’re uncomfortable as well, so i can explain the trigger to them and why i tagged it that way and they can decide if they’d like to read based on a more informed basis. tagging correctly saves many people from being blindsided by something they didn’t want to see, and it also protects the author from some very angry messages about warnings.

archive of our own has an extensive support page with all of the info you could need about posting a work on their site including tags, ratings, warnings, co-authors, translations, HTML, and more. you can find it here.

as far as wattpad goes, i am definitely not as familiar with it. i have only a couple of my fics over there and a few translations that people have done for me, so my knowledge is very limited. this link seems to have some good resources for posting with them.

moodboards, graphics, covers 

i feel like the writing does most of the work itself, but a graphic can really help when it comes to the next part of the process, posting on social media. some people like to do moodboards, some people commission artists to draw for them, and some like to create their own graphics completely from scratch. like most aspects of fic, there isn’t really a right or wrong way to do this. i usually make moodboards for mine! i try to stick to an aesthetic or theme, and pick a cohesive amount of pictures to use (typically three, six, or nine so they line up nicely). the pictures i use are almost always from tumblr, pinterest, or weheartit. i put them together using an app and then put a blanket filter over all of it so that it all looks unified. if you used pinterest or weheartit to create concept boards for your idea in the beginning, now is a good time to use those photos and media as well! if you’re curious, the apps i use to create graphics, moodboards, and covers are as follows:

canva (mobile app & website) 

tons of templates to choose from as well as patterns and fonts! some things are locked unless you’re a member but most elements are free! easy to download and share and lots of options to customize and play around with. i strongly recommend the website on desktop or laptop as opposed to the mobile app so that the features are more easily accessible.

picsart (mobile app) 

when i need to make one quickly and i’m not near my laptop (or just need something simple) i use picsart to make a quick collage and put a filter over them. there are some limited text options as well but they are not as advanced as some of the others mentioned here.

photoshop express (mobile & desktop app) 

a step up from picsart, but slightly different elements. photoshop allows you to control a lot more once you know how to use it. there are some nice moodboard layouts here, as well as text and fonts, borders, and color controls. my favorite tool on here is the style transfer option under ‘effects’. a very quick and easy way to make your pictures look very cohesive!

vsco (mobile app) 

perfect for adding filters and things like vignette, grain, and fade. it also has some color controls to customize those. this is typically the last step before i post. and you can save custom presets that you like to use again!

and there are many others as well – almost all photo editing apps and software have a function that will allow you to make a collage or add text to a graphic! i know wattpad also requires a cover for their stories and I believe they have an app for that too!

here are some lovely graphics that have been made for my fics by @lovelylou​, @behisoneandonly​, @tomlinvelvet-ao3​​ and @brickredtoe​  as some examples :) 

and one that I've made as well: 

social media 

once i have a moodboard or graphic, i post the link to my fic on twitter and tumblr. in these posts i always make sure to include the title, the word count, and the summary. i try to make it as visually appealing as possibly by organizing the post accordingly and using fonts occasionally to catch people’s eye. this is the app i use for those on mobile! 

i think about the sizing as well – twitter has set dimensions for its photos and is known for displaying the photos awkwardly. tumblr on the other hand will let you upload up to ten photos of any size, and will display them fully without any cropping. according to this link a single photo on twitter should be 16:9. this page also has some good tips. and as far as i can tell if you’re using two or four photos, i would stick to the square images as that is what’s worked for me personally. i believe canva also has a template for a twitter post too.

write for yourself 

i think everyone knows this on some level but i tend to need to be reminded pretty frequently. if you’re heavily involved in social media and fic discourse, it can be very easy to get attached to what you know people want to see. writing should be a balance though, and you should always write for yourself before anyone else. we’re all free to write whatever we want and, even if it’s difficult, you shouldn’t ever let someone make you feel guilty for doing so. writing is an escape and a safe space but it can very quickly become something that causes stress and anxiety if you aren’t doing it for the right reasons.

don’t stress 

easier said than done, I know, but like I mentioned earlier, writing should be fun. a lot of people here don’t do it as their job and no one gets paid to write fics. these are projects that authors take on on their own time even while they work and handle everything else in their lives and those things should come first and foremost, as well as your mental health. this circles back into my earlier point – don’t let people make you feel guilty about anything like not finishing a fic on time or not writing exactly how they wanted it. authors are real people with real lives too and if things get to be too heavy or too stressful, they’re entitled to a break or to leave if that’s what’s best for them.

don’t be afraid to ask for help / validation 

there are tons of lovely writers in this community and others that would be more than happy to answer questions and give advice. if you’re struggling with something, there’s always somewhere to go to get help! 

however, the concept of validation is a bit trickier than the others. there’s a fine line ;) between asking for validation for a little boost, or relying completely on it. posting snippets and sneak peeks is a great way to get people excited about your work and to get yourself motivated if you’re feeling down, but i would suggest not to post one with the sole purpose of fishing for compliments. if you do, it can be very disheartening if you don’t receive any or the ones that you were looking to hear. in my opinion you need to be at least somewhat confident in your own abilities before you can expect other people to be. posting a snippet is more beneficial for when you’ve got a mental block or are stuck in a scene as opposed to just searching for validation for the sake of getting it.

cliche vs. copying 

there’s also two sides to this argument! you shouldn’t be afraid to write what you want, even if it seems like it’s a common trope or cliche topic. everybody writes in different styles and has different ideas and therefore may provide an entirely different view on what’s been poised as a ‘common’ theme. i think i could read a thousand of the ‘there was only one bed’ trope or the college au’s or the other popular plotlines. they’re popular for a reason and you shouldn’t be afraid to explore your own take on it! no one author ‘owns’ a specific trope. 

BUT there is a clear difference in doing your own take on something versus just copying what someone else has written exactly. the lines can get blurry here but it’s obvious to readers when something has been repeated word for word from another fic or when one too many elements are the same. to be on the safe side, always check to make sure that the specifics of your idea haven’t been done exactly before. 

resources 

+ masterpost of some resources 

+ how to keep readers engaged 

+ helpful tips 

+ 100 words for facial expressions 

+ how to write good villains 

+ good advice  

+ synonyms for commonly used words 

+ using metaphors and references 

+ more helpful tips 

+ descriptions

+ synonyms for ‘beautiful’ 

+ tips for dialogue 

+ writing enemies to lovers 

+ other helpful tips 

+ writing friends to lovers 

+ dystopian writing 

+ writing a realistic argument 

+ ways to cut word count 

+ how to write smut 01 * tw for body descriptions etc.  

+ how to write smut 02 

+ SUPER helpful smut vocab

+ how to write flirting 

+ how to write about grief 

+ even more helpful tips

[jui-imouto-chan]

Wanted to write some fluff for my dear @manadrite / @manatheauthor, who was a bit down earlier. 

Thanks to @isumi828 for supplying me with some ideas!

The aroma of brewed coffee beans and the syrupy sweet scent of pastries flutter about, wafting through the air and into the noses of the patrons leisurely sipping from their warm mugs, eyes bright and and posture contented.

Forks glimmer in the soft light of sun, tiny clinks following the contact of the tips of the prongs with the small white plates below speared pieces of dessert.

A bell’s tinkle sounds from the door, a swirl of icy breeze immediately quelled by the warmth of the cafe.

“Welcome!” greets the employee behind the counter, eyes and hair mocha as the coffee he prepares. A smile can be heard in his voice, his back to the majority of the room, but clearly he knows who’s entered the building, as his hands work the machine to prepare a drink before he’s told, no one else in the queue.

He spins on the balls of one foot and smoothly transitions into bending over and sliding out a tray of pastries from the display case beneath the counter, picking a slice of raspberry cheesecake to place on a plate he collects from a shining stack nearby.

He sets a fork atop the empty space beside the desert and swipes the plate into his left hand, his other hand grabbing the handle of a mug, now filled with a cappuccino. He seems to have made a heart design in it, and upon the image becoming visible to the customers in the cafe, giggles and teasing smiles arise.

“You need a hand with that?” the man who’d entered the cafe asks the employee, adjusting his bag’s strap to free his hands and immediately moving to take the items from him.

The employee spins gracefully out of reach, grinning smugly at the mocha-skinned man sighing at him, his apron fluttering. It’s impressive, how not a drop of drink spills over the edge of the mug, despite the dangerous slosh of the scalding liquid. 

His name-tag glints in the sunlight he steps past, a brief illumination of his, admittedly already quite bright countenance.

He sets the plate and mug down with barely a sound, bending at the waist with deliberation. 

Once more, he twirls about on his heel like a misinformed ballerina and in that single movement undoes the bow tied at the small of his back, the apron hanging off of him, now.

“Just a moment.” He says, polite as ever. He usually sounds genially chipper, but now his voice has the adoring undertone of delight.

The mocha-skinned man settles in the cushy booth seat he always sits in, hand curling around the mug with familiarity that is not unusual for the regulars of the cafe. A smile pulls at his lips, freckled cheeks shifting with the uneven expression.

He doesn’t take a sip at any point, an observer would note, and his eyes remain in the distance, past the window he’s beside, where icicles hang precariously over the edges of roofs and gutters and drip arrhythmically, into thick bunches of snow gathered at the corners of sidewalks and roadways. One such corner has a toddler-sized disgruntled snowman sporting a tiny foil fedora.

“I’m waiting on Eli to make my hot cocoa, so I can spare a few moments for you.” the employee, sans his apron, slides into the opposite booth, his arms lain over the tabletop casually.

The tan man gasps exaggeratedly, shoulders rising as a hand moves to hover near his mouth, lush green and soothing blue wide in mock-surprise. “I honestly can’t believe that the Connor Anderson would grant me the privilege of moments of interaction! My poor heart feels blessed; I can die without regrets.”

Connor appears incredibly bemused, though his cheek twitches as he bites back laughter. He tilts his head into a palm, resting on an elbow while his fingers idly drum a vaguely familiar tune.

“Alright Drama Queen--”

“Excuse you, I prefer King of Theatrics.”

“Oh, whatever. I give up on you.” Connor’s eyes roll, but he’s finally let his lips tick up until his eyes crinkle, huffing air out through his nose.

“Aw, man, I guess North wins that bet.” 

“Bet?” 

“She said that you’d leave my sorry ass in less than 2 minutes.”

Connor allows a soft chuckle out and shakes his head. He moves out of the seat when there’s a call of his name. “What was your side?”

“That it’d take 3 minutes.”

And then Connor closes his eyes as a surprised snort takes over, his shoulders shaking in barely-contained laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m lovable.”

“That, too.”

And the tan man’s eyes blink rapidly, clearly not having anticipated that response. A hint of red creeps up his cheeks, and Connor smirks to himself as he collects his hot cocoa and nabs a small, pink cupcake.

Only after Connor sits back in front of him does the darker man move to slice a chunk off of his raspberry cheesecake. In lieu of bringing the bit to his mouth, he directs it to Connor’s, bumping against soft pink and leaving a small dot of hibiscus-colored-syrup. Connor’s taken off guard for a moment, but his lips eventually part to allow the dessert in, closing over the fork to drag the piece off, lashes batting in an effort to physically express the bliss he’d gotten from the taste. 

The fork still hovers near his mouth, heterochromatic eyes watching his reaction raptly, and he takes his chance to snatch the utensil out of the other’s grip. He swallows and cuts another piece off of the very cake he’d tasted, spearing it.

“You’ve got to give it a try, Markus.”

Markus obligingly opens his mouth when Connor mimics his earlier actions and feeds him, savoring the taste of the sweet.

He hums in appreciation. “Good pick.” 

“But of course. Only the best for you.”

His line is undercut by the teasing lilt to his voice, but Markus forgives him for that only because another slice is brought to his mouth, which he chases down with a sip of his cappuccino.

“Once again, I’m honored.”

Markus reacquires his silverware with ease and pointedly stares at the hot chocolate near Connor’s elbow, still steaming but thankfully much cooler than the piping hot chocolate-lava that Connor would insist on drinking immediately. Markus has spent plenty of time locking mouths with Connor after filling his with cold water, only for the purpose of aiding him in dealing with the consequences of his stubborn habits. 

Well, okay, not only for that, but the other reasons are to be considered added benefits to his good deeds.

Connor and Markus lapse into an amicable silence, their free left hands creeping across the tabletop, until Markus’ rests atop Connor’s, thumb stroking over the back of his hand.

They almost don’t appear to notice the contact, perhaps from how naturally such actions of affection come to them.

“Am I keeping you?” Markus asks, his mug clicking as he sets it down.

Connor blinks, then shakes his head. “No, no. Eli’s got me covered, and it’s a little slow right now. I think you guys are stealing our business for today.”

Markus can’t help the smug grin crawling up his face. “If only we could steal one of the employees, here, too.”

“I’d rather French Sumo than join you heathens.”

“I’m hurt, really, I am. I’m also going to go legally change my name to Sumo Manfred.” Markus’ fingers dance up Connor’s arm and then move back down so he can intertwine them with Connor’s.

“Oh? Such drastic measures, when all you’d have to do is ask and receive.”

Markus finger’s jump, and Connor gives him a squeeze the same time he sends over his favorite methods of stopping Markus’ thought processes and heart at once: a cheeky, mischievous wink.

Markus groans, dropping his fork to shield his face and cover his eyes. “Oh my god, stop. You know I have a weakness for that. --In Josh’s words, ‘you put the wink in twink’.”

Connor scoffs, affronted, but not really. “Josh can catch these hands.”

“Your twinkie-fingered hands.” Markus sing-songs, wriggling his digits.

Connor’s hand tightens over his, painfully squeezing with his lithe ‘twinkie-fingers’. “I will end you.”

“You love me too much.”

A frustrated sigh, and then, “Ugh, why do you have to be right?” Connor shoots Markus a glare when the taller laughs at him, though his scowl may well be a pout, in Markus’ book, with all the effect it has.

“Aw, it’s okay that you have twink hands, babe. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Connor stands, collecting their dirtied plates and mugs with a huff. “Yeah? Well, you’ve got big, meaty, claws.”

“You did not just--”

“Oh, but I did.”

There’s a vindictive satisfaction that takes over Connor’s face as Markus growls.

Markus moves to follow him out of the booth, his messenger bag all but forgotten on the seat, and Connor dances out of the way of his searching hands with all the grace he can muster. Can’t let Markus get too handsy in his workplace, now can he?

He places them on the back counter to take them to the sink, later, about to address Markus’ sulky frown, but the bell’s jingle and a momentary brush of cold air makes Connor snap his attention to the potential customer entering the cafe, cheery disposition coming forth.

“Welcome, how may I--North?”

“Oh, shit, North?!”

Markus makes to hide behind Connor, but, thanks to the factors that are too numerous to list, he’s spotted and approached with a frighteningly calm and blank expression.

“You’re supposed to be working right now. I’ve got Alice taking orders at this point, the fuck are you doing?”

She swipes her hand to Markus’ ear to pinch it between her thumb and fingers and drags him out of the cafe, giving him an earful. Connor laughs nervously, waving to his boyfriend as he goes and watching Markus feebly attempt to return the action and receive a swift smack to the back of the head, the spike of fear that had shot up Connor’s spine upon North’s arrival thankfully dissipating.

He’s only just turned to the back counter when the door slams open, the bell a cry of alarm, and footsteps advance on him rapidly. 

Connor’s arm is grabbed and he’s spun around and dipped, and then lips meet his gaping mouth to give him a fleeting but passionate kiss, in front of all of his customers, before he’s set upright and released. 

His cheeks burn with mortification and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest surge of arousal, as he uncomprehendingly watches Markus dart to their booth to retrieve his bag and take off out the door, the blast of winter air doing nothing for his heating face.

There’s a wolf-whistle from the back room, followed by muted giggles, and Connor inwardly curses his boyfriend.

Outwardly, he groans and slumps against the counter, panting softly.

Elijah’s never going to let him live this down.

[webcricket]

Leave Me to Dream

Characters: CastielXReader

Word Count: 1250

A/N: Fic request by @captainblurryface21​ – “Could I please request an angst-y and fluffy one-shot based from the song Dream by Imagine Dragons??” I’ll let the song lyrics serve as summary – “We all are living in a dream, /But life ain't what it seems /Oh everything's a mess /And all these sorrows I have seen /They lead me to believe /That everything's a mess /But I wanna dream /I wanna dream /Leave me to dream.” Fluff, and angst.

A deceptively warm autumn breeze caressed your cheeks, rustling the limbs of the ruddy-mantled maple you reclined against. A cascade of bright red and orange speckled leaves noisily shook free, fluttering from their quivering branches to tumble exuberantly across the yellowing grasses, amassing together in scattered heaps here and there on the unnaturally flat park grounds as though by some predetermined agreed-upon plan to rejoin ranks after escaping their stemmed restraints upon the tree. Perhaps they were simply lonely in their freedom. You scented in the swirling air drifting from a meadow beyond the manicured fields a mixture of fragrant sun-warmed late-blooming aster and the sickly sweet odor of newly fallen apples, bruised and rusting flesh half-consumed in the dawn by deer and other furtive wandering night creatures. Twisting a single dark lock of curly hair around your finger over and over again, you contemplated, between turns of the page as you read, the peaceful countenance of the angel with his head resting upon your lap. Smiling to yourself, it occurred to you that very rarely was the real world this idyllic.

He did not stir, though every so often his expression would tense with vague unease, a subtle swell of terror suddenly snatching at his frame, the disquiet quickly calmed by the renewed and reassuring ministrations of your fingers softly stroking his hair and face. Castiel didn’t sleep, but lately he would routinely pass hours in repose with you in this manner, eyes sealed in reclusive thought.

Observing him, a fretful deep line began to coax his brow into an anxious furrow. Smoothing your fingertips lightly across his forehead, your touch quelled the surge of agitation menacing his serenity. Forgetting your book, surrendering to a cloistered curiosity regarding the source of the torment in his quietude on this sublimely perfect afternoon, you swept your knuckles across his prickly cheek and neck, settling your palm to his shallowly rising and falling chest. The slowing beat of his vessel’s heart thrummed beneath your fingertips. Leaning down, your lips and exhaling breath brushed a tenderly heated kiss over each of his eyelids in turn. “Angel, what are you thinking about?” you whispered against the delicate skin, his lashes tickling your lips.

His luminous multi-hued blues flickered open, faraway focus resolving in a blink upon your inquisitive regard. “Nothing,” he professed mechanically, adding in a guilty low tone after a brief reflective pause, “everything.”

The involuntary gentleness of your smile at the expansive scope of his answer did little to disguise the concern otherwise clouding your aspect.

Plainly discerning the familiar concern flitting across your features, he reached up to cover your hand warmly with his own, “You needn’t worry about me.”

“Don’t I though?” you asserted, repositioning your hand to twine your fingers loosely through his. “You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

His eyes dimmed distantly. The now rising wind fiercely shook the boughs above; whipping tendrils of air rekindled the rain of brightly blushing leaves around you and the angel. The faint crunch of crisp leaf on leaf as they toppled and spun in their colorful seasonal dance filled the unanswered silence.

You squeezed his hand to draw him back to you, to wrench him from whatever painful past recollection vexed his mind and threatened to tear him away from you, “I mean it Castiel, anything. I’m here for you. Let me help.”

A deep sigh collapsed his ribcage. He nodded, returning to the present with a heavy blink. “I know, and you already do,” a sad smile traced his mouth, fingers folding firmly around yours in return. “You already do more than you know. So much more than I deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” you scoffed, pressing an inflexible scolding kiss to his lips. “You deserve to be loved. And I love you, more than you seem to know.”

He closed his eyes, allowing your words, the kindness illumining your soul, and the adamant smattering of affectionate kisses to his face and neck attesting to your unyielding devotion to soothe him.

“Tell me, my sweet angel,” your lips relented their doting assault, fingers again burying in his thick shock of hair to massage his scalp. “What’s bothering you?”

A groan vibrated his throat – in part born from the pleasantness of your touch, and partly in weary acquiescence to your stubborn concern. “Every step I take, every righteous plan, every virtuous intention, every life I touch…no matter what I do, it all ends up a mess,” he spoke without looking at you, sheltered behind the darkness of his shuttered eyes. “Or worse.”

“That’s not true,” you tugged his locks emphatically until he opened his eyes to peer sullenly at you. “You help people Cas. You help save the world. You have a purpose. A family you selflessly protect with your life. You…”

“And I’ve hurt plenty of people too, innocent people,” he interrupted, frowning. “I’ve nearly destroyed the world in vain pride and all but ruined Heaven with my vanity. I’m an outcast amongst my kin. How many times have I selfishly put Sam and Dean’s lives at risk? And you, the most precious thing to me in all of creation,” his voice strained tearfully, leaden with remorse, “I couldn’t even hold on to you when it mattered most.”

You shook your head as he spoke, “You still have me, angel. You will always have me.”

“You and I both know it wasn’t supposed to be this way,” eyes gleaming wetly, he sat up. Facing away from you so you would not see his tears, he hunched forward to awkwardly hug his legs.

Shifting to your knees, you moved to lay your head upon his shoulder. Wrapping your arms snugly about his torso, you murmured softly in his ear, “Castiel, I was always going to die. It’s what humans do. Hunters a lot sooner than the general population in my experience. Stop blaming yourself. We’ve gone over this, there is nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

Regardless of this fact, he still carried the burden of your death – the weight of it and the world hoisted upon his shoulders. Shuddering in your embrace, a choked sob caught in his throat.

You kissed and nuzzled his neck, continuing your optimistic reflection, “In a lot of ways, it’s better up here. That coffee shop downtown never screws up my order anymore. It’s perpetually sunny when I feel like taking a walk outside. I can pile on all the comfy blankets I want in bed and never break a sweat. The library always has the book I’m looking for, and it’s not God-forsaken research about some damned monster or other. It’s like a never-ending dream.”

“You don’t have to do that,” his gravelly tone cracked.

“Do what?”

“Pretend everything is okay for my sake. Everything’s a mess.”

“But everything is okay, Cas. You’re here with me.” Rolling onto your seat, you encouraged him with a steady pull of his shoulder to rest his head again upon your lap.

He submitted to your gentle request.

Wiping the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs, you combed your fingers comfortingly through his hair until he closed his anxious red-rimmed eyes. His troubled expression sank further into the depths of peace with each caress. Careful not to disturb him, you picked up your book and found the page you’d left off on.

Lost in your dream, your Heaven, he forgot again, if only for the moment, the sorrows that haunted him.

[yuurisolympicgold]

Yuuri Week 2017, Day 1: Terra Incognita Title: 91 Days of Winter Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Vicchan, Victor Nikiforov. Pairing: Yuuri/Victor. Genres/Tags: Romance, Fluff, Anxiety, Depression, Seasonal Depression, AU. Rating/Warnings: T/None. Summary: What if Vicchan had lived? Or, Yuuri and his “Two Victors.”

Winter used to be Yuuri’s least favorite season. He supposed it was ironic, considering he spent most of his life on ice; a place he also felt at home, competing in a winter sport.

Perhaps it was because of where he’d grown up. Winters could be harsh, but they didn’t usually last long. Then the cherry blossoms would bloom in spring, the onsen would once again be busy, the town would be bustling with activity and festivals. To Yuuri--when spring came and washed the bleakness and murk of winter away--it was like coming home.

Winter was none of those things. The shorter days made him feel tired constantly, competition season was a source of stress; he spent so many of those days in an anxious fog. Too much snow prevented travel and he felt even more isolated than he had those first few months after his move to Detroit. Something bad always seemed to happen during winter. Now he was going to lose his beloved dog who he hadn’t even seen in five years.

Vicchan was yet another someone Yuuri had let down. 

Yuuri wasn’t there for him... he never even got a chance to say goodbye, to tell him how much he loved and missed him. He wondered if Vicchan really remembered him sometimes. He’d seen him plenty of times while video chatting with Mari, but Vicchan probably just wondered why he wasn’t there.

Today was the free skate for the Sochi Grand Prix Final. It was surreal to think that after his short program he was sitting in possible medal contention. He was currently fourth, below Cao Bin and Christophe Giacometti. Victor of course led the field by a large margin.

Days leading up to any competition he typically spent in a haze. To alleviate the feeling he tried to focus on a singular purpose, but it worsened when news of Vicchan’s accident reached him. It wasn’t until his coach nudged him that he remembered where he was--what he was supposed to be doing.

“Yuuri,” Celestino called out to him. “It’s your sister.”

Yuuri suddenly felt like he didn’t know how to get up. He felt his weight sink further into the bench he found in an isolated corridor of the arena. For a moment he simply stared at the item his coach held out to him--my own phone, his brain dimly reminded.

Hesitantly he pushed off the bench and forced his body into motion, accepting the device. He was vaguely aware of his coach watching over him as he held it up to his ear. He opened his mouth to speak--to greet her, to say something, but no words would come.

“Yuuri?” Mari must have heard his breathing. She called his name one more time and sighed. His heart sank and his throat closed up further.

“Listen to me, Yuuri,” Her voice held a firmness but recent stress and emotion gave it a shake. “He’s going to be okay, do you hear me? Vicchan... he’s fine.”

Yuuri choked, palm slapping over his mouth and muting his gasp. He was now aware of Celestino’s hand on his shoulder, firm and bracing.

Mari only paused a beat before continuing.

“He is roughed up, but he’s okay. He has to wear a cast for awhile. The vet also has him wearing a cone so he doesn’t muck with the stitches... he’s a little trooper,” She said with a fond chuckle if a bit watery.

Yuuri still couldn’t say anything. His grasp around the phone tightened. Once again he wished he was there.

“I can’t believe...” Mari sniffed and cleared her throat before continuing, “I mean, he nearly gets himself mauled by a car and basically gets back up like it was nothing. He probably considers it a good day too; sort of like a certain stubborn little brother of mine... he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet.”

“I--” Yuuri finally managed to get his brain to work and form words. Actual words. He felt like the fog pressing against his thoughts wasn’t so heavy. “He--He’s really okay?”

Mari hummed across the line.

“He’s comfortable at home now, if still sleepy from the anesthesia, but he’ll be watching you perform too,” She confirmed. She paused before adding one more thing.

“Good luck, Yuuri. He really is a lot like you, you know.”

After the call ended he quietly excused himself. Celestino always understood his need for solitude. He promised he would be back in time for the warm-up skate. Then he did the same thing he’d done in a random bathroom stall, after he’d sat listening to his mom’s voice. 

He broke down and cried. To no one, with naught but his thoughts for company.

Except it was different this time. Now the tears weren’t to a feeling of hopelessness and regret. Instead he cried his blessings and his thanks for this second chance. For Vicchan’s unwillingness to give up. 

For Yuuri, crying wasn’t always cathartic. Many times it only worsened the pounding in his head, but this time it felt cleansing. A much needed release following the guilt and turmoil he felt over his decision to leave home in the first place with his pet’s possible death looming over him. A rain that begun the re-cultivating process after a drought.

After awhile he straightened and fixed his appearance as much as possible.

He had to skate soon after all. 

“Well, Yuuri,” Celestino said, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder at the barrier. “Are you ready to once again skate your heart out for the whole of Russia?”

Yuuri nodded but didn’t really have an answer for him. He handed over his hard guards and stepped onto the ice to do his laps. On a conscious level he felt like this was something he should be panicking over. Yet instead he was in an odd state of calm and lucidity. The world looked a lot different to him now than it had a few hours ago.

Yuuri was once again about to skate on the same ice as his idol in his home country, this time with a medal on the line. He knew it wasn’t likely that he would land a spot on the podium; there were many strong skaters in the competition, aside from Victor. Skaters who had been to a Grand Prix Final before.

But this was his chance to prove that he was supposed to be here. That he hadn’t qualified in the final six by fluke or chance. It didn’t feel conceptual anymore, this was real.

If nothing else, he would do it for Vicchan. For the miracle that was his dog’s life; his perseverance and resilience--against so much adversity wrapped around such a tiny body--Yuuri would do the same. With those thoughts in mind, he glided into position at the center of the rink.

When the results rolled in he couldn’t believe it.

At his first Grand Prix Final--when he thought he was going to lose his dog, his chance to show everyone what he was truly capable of--Yuuri had won a silver medal.

After Yuuri received his medal he was immediately gathered by his coach to accept a video chat and was met with boisterous congratulations from his rinkmates at the Detroit Skating Club. Phichit was front and center, promising that next Grand Prix he would be on the podium with Yuuri. Chris, who he only edged out by less than a point, had congratulated him next--talking him into--or rather lightly coercing him into taking a selfie with their medals.

Victor, he noticed, was different after they’d left the ice, the din of the crowd far behind. He was... quiet. Yuuri had spent a lot of time fantasizing what it would be like to share a podium with him over the years. Yet it still felt like it wasn’t quite what he was expecting. When Victor noticed Yuuri staring, he flashed him a grin and wink while offering his own congratulations, like he’d seen during so many of Victor’s public appearances. Yuuri blushed and froze in place, but at the same time had a conflicting thought that the look didn’t really suit him.

These were the thoughts that occupied him at the banquet as he stood in front of a table filled with flutes of sparkling champagne. He warmed the cold glass between his fingertips, mindlessly watching the amber liquid swirl through hazy eyes. Letting out a heavy sigh he brought it to his lips and took a large gulp.

He really needed to get back. Celestino wouldn’t be happy that he’d been away from the group for so long. He'd just needed a few minutes to himself. It was overwhelming talking to so many important people, to so many people in general, but he’d been away long enough. As surreal as it was, he was a silver medalist at a Grand Prix Final. His resume was looking so much more promising. 

I even have official duties now, he thought with a smile and cautious optimism.

Yuuri blinked as the blurry shape of a pale hand entered his field of vision. Deft fingers wrapped around one of the flutes in front of him before darting out of sight. He exhaled and removed his blue framed glasses, rubbing his tired eyes.

“...Yuuri Katsuki?”

His eyes shot open. Oh god...

That voice--ever loose and suggestive, standing as both a memory from childhood and an ideal he believed in--made every thought come to a screeching halt. 

Yuuri made a strangled sound and nearly dropped his glass, inwardly cursing his lack of composure and inability to actually not embarrass himself. Why did he still have to act this way around him? He just shared a podium with him!

Hesitantly, he replaced his glasses and turned to face the man behind him, hoping he was at least wearing a collected expression. He doubted it.

Victor was of course as gorgeous as every physical or mental picture Yuuri had of him. Yet he looked different. Yuuri wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting. They were all exhausted after the competition and gala, but it felt like something else. It was there; thick and heavy in his expression, something familiar now that Yuuri could see up close. He was used to seeing that look. It peered back at him through a mirror often on days when he couldn’t find the energy to pull himself out of bed.

Yuuri felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat. “Um. Yes?”

Victor looked bewildered and--was his face a bit flushed?

“You, you just look very different with your glasses in person--I didn’t recognize you when you walked in,” He observed, looking contemplative.

Yuuri had the random thought that if multiverse theory was right, he hoped his parallel self was having a better time than him.

The first time he actually had a conversation with his lifelong idol and he ends up more fixated on how Yuuri looks with or without his glasses. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh in dismay or slink away upstairs and hide in his hotel room. He knew he couldn’t do that though. Celestino would drag him back bodily if needed. He was a silver medalist and ISU representatives and sponsors wanted to talk to him.

...How did this even become his life? This was officially the weirdest day.

Victor was looking at him strangely and Yuuri realized with mortification that he’d zoned out while staring for almost five minutes. The fact that Victor hadn’t walked away yet was a miracle.

“That look in your eyes just now...” Victor said, tilting his head. “It was similar to how you looked during your free skate. You look like you have a lot on your mind while you perform. Like you’re in another world.”

Yuuri thought of a lot of things while he skated. He didn’t think it would go over well if he mentioned that Victor was a frequent subject.

“Oh, umm. That’s nice,” Yuuri mumbled.

Immediately after speaking he felt like an idiot. ‘Nice?’ Really? Perhaps he could be eloquent for once in his life when the person who was both his idol and longtime crush decided to talk to him?

Victor didn’t seem to notice his internal meltdown. He looks... tired, Yuuri thought to himself again.

“You look like you’d rather be somewhere else.” Yuuri said without thinking.

“Do I?” Victor asked without inflection. “Do you want me somewhere else?” He then asked with a smirk.

“N-No, I just--”

Yuuri bit his lip. He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? There was actually some part of him that thought this was a good idea.

“Um. Victor?” He ventured, effort to speak in a firm manner in mind.

Victor raised an inquisitive brow and gestured for him to continue.

“My family runs an onsen in Hasetsu, a small harbor town. It’s a popular hotspot among tourists. You should--” Yuuri cleared his throat. “You could come? After skating season I mean. You’d be in my family’s care.” 

Victor regarded him, mild incredulity creasing his brow.

“That’s a little forward between competitors, don’t you think?” He replied, expression still unhelpfully blank.

Yuuri immediately wished he could take it back.

“Or,” Victor added before he could say anything. “If you’re looking for a good word I’d be happy to tweet about it? Word of mouth is the best advertisement.”

He then smiled brightly. It was that smile combined with his wording that made Yuuri feel disturbed. There was a resigned look to his eye.

Yuuri felt his stomach plummet. His resolve was crumbling; slipping through his fingers, but he still wanted another attempt. Victor seemed so different right now. He wanted to know more about him, not what he read about. He needed to do it now, before the confidence gained from a successful competition left him.

He swallowed and tried again.

“You just--looked like you needed a break is all.”

Victor’s eyes widened.

“Anyway,” Yuuri demurred and backed away, ready to retreat. “The offer still stands... so please think about it.”

Yuuri bowed out of habit before turning and walking away. He tried, that was enough. He still had to prep for finals and finish off his last semester in Detroit next March. He still had the remaining competitions. After that... well, he hadn’t made any further decisions yet. He already skated on the same ice as Victor, what else could he do?

At least he wouldn't leave regretting that he never asked.

He didn’t notice Victor’s eyes following him until he was out of sight.

It seemed like Yuuri was in a state of constant disbelief these days. He won both Japan’s nationals and Four Continents, the latter which he’d never come in first. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d won back to back competitions. Not since his last year as a junior, before having to make the transition to seniors.

At Worlds he came in second--Victor won gold, his fifth consecutive world title-- but that wasn’t the only thing the skating world was talking about. In just a few short months, Yuuri had closed the gap between their scores since the Grand Prix Final, by a few points just under half.

Victor may have been the gold medalist--but you’d think it was Yuuri--considering how loud the crowd was when the official placed the medal around his neck. He felt humbled, light and euphoric as he waved to the crowd in his home country. He finally brought them home two medals from two of the biggest skating competitions.

At one moment he noticed Victor had stopped interacting with the fans like normal. Instead he was looking at Yuuri with an inscrutable expression, leaving Yuuri to only guess what he was thinking. He wondered briefly if he was angry.

He decided to give Victor space.

Even though he knew Vicchan would eventually make a full recovery, it wasn’t enough to put Yuuri at ease. He needed to be there, he wanted to see his family and friends. Now with his final year of college concluded and a degree to show for it, he was going home.

When Yuuri returned he was relieved to see in person that Vicchan's recovery was going well. He couldn’t embrace him fully yet, being mindful of the splint. But seeing him and touching him again after so long was enough. His little body was so warm, his personality still so lively and full to the brim with effervescence.

Mari told him that it could’ve been worse, a lot worse if the driver hadn’t seen Vicchan dart across the road when he did. The damage had been minimal.

Yuuri could tell she blamed herself. They were never touchy but he knew she cared. She had been the one to take care of Vicchan during his absence.

“It’s okay, Mari,” He said to her. “He’s going to be okay... Vicchan’s fine,” He repeated what she’d said to him and hoped he conveyed that he didn’t hold her responsible at all. It was an accident.

Mari exhaled and smiled back at him.

That summer had to be known as the ‘season of surprises,’ Yuuri decided.

Yet surprise didn’t begin to encompass the feeling a month later when Victor did show up for had been a planned week of vacation with his own poodle Makkachin. Vicchan had gained a fast friend in the full sized poodle while Victor was immediately entranced by their size difference.

Victor was different since their talk in Sochi, even more so since he’d seen him at Worlds. He was energetic, taking in the sights with childlike wonder as they walked their dogs together. It had baffled Yuuri at first, but his energy became endearing. He was so nice like this.

Victor could barely contain his excitement when he found out he shared Vicchan’s given name. He cooed to the “world’s second cutest poodle after Makkachin of course” about how they were twins. Yuuri wasn’t ready to reveal why that was just yet. 

He could tell his poodle was taken with Victor too. Vicchan had always been a dog with energy to spare and it went well with Victor’s personality. Yuuri had a passing thought and wondered if excitement was a trait shared among Victors, human or dog.

Victor had apologized for his initial reaction to the invite. He’d assumed Yuuri had only wanted a plug for the onsen. He also told Yuuri it had been a long time since anyone had invited him to do something that had nothing to do with skating.

Yuuri had no idea, but he felt warmth spread through him at Victor’s happy expression.

To Yuuri’s incredulity and embarrassment, Victor also revealed that the GPF wasn’t the first time he’d him skate. Yuuri also had a reputation among the other competitors for being elusive to the point of mysterious during competitions, only showing his face when the time came for him to actually skate. 

“You’re very intriguing, you know,” Victor added with a wink.

Yuuri was floored. He had no idea he even had a reputation. Let alone could think other competitors found him ‘mysterious.’

To add to the ongoing list of ‘How to Fluster and Embarrass Yuuri this Summer’ there was the manner in which his mother started referring to them.

“Your two Vicchans are in the other room!” Hiroko called out to him cheerfully one morning. Mari burst out laughing from where she was eating breakfast.

“My--my... what?” Yuuri shook his head and called a bit louder. "Victor?!”

“Yes?” Victor answered and Vicchan followed with an answering bark from his perch on Victor’s lap as they both gazed up at Yuuri earnestly. Makkachin was next to them and boofed happily. 

Yuuri felt the urge to clutch his chest. His “Two Victors”... he couldn’t believe it.

Before they knew it, a one week vacation would eventually turn into two and so on.

Next skating season would go down in history as the “Katsuki/Nikiforov rivalry.” For Yuuri and Victor, at most it was a friendly competitiveness, but they also made it no secret they were dating, as much as their busy schedules permitted. Predictably the tabloids exploded and the news was met with some pushback. Most notably columnists pointing out the conflict of interest, especially when rumors of Victor giving him advice that stepped on Celestino’s toes surfaced. This would be the first of many seasons they would end up being a source of ire and dismay to both the JSF and FFKKR.

Yuuri didn’t think it was a big deal. Victor was known to give skaters advice. He knew Victor held too much love and respect for the sport to ever throw a competition, so he felt complaints of nepotism were unfounded.

“I didn’t have to do much anyway,” Victor said truthfully after Yuuri mentioned the article. “You aren’t technically unsound. Any jumps you’re missing I can help you with. I can also help with your confidence too. I’ve seen you win, Yuuri. I know you can aim higher.”

Skating on the same level as Victor had been his goal for years; now he had a new one. He would be going up against Victor again at the Grand Prix Final and Worlds. It was then he knew he wanted nothing else than to beat Victor.

It felt like that season went by in a blur. In Barcelona, on what ended up being the night before the competition, Yuuri proposed under fairy lights next to a choir in a local cathedral.

There was a change forthcoming in the skating world--and Yuuri was the one leading it. Victor said he’d never been more happy to receive a silver medal, two in fact.  Phichit also made good on his promise of a podium finish and won bronze at the Grand Prix while a younger skater named Otabek Altin took bronze during Worlds.

Yuuri knew that Victor was being honest, but he still wondered if he was upset with the way his competitive career ended. He would always be the Living Legend, but he wasn’t undefeated. Nor was he considered unbeatable, his reputation was compromised--

“You say I was compromised,” Victor said as he hung Yuuri’s medals next to his own, observing that he’d need more space for Yuuri’s future medals. “I’d call it closure.”

“Closure?” Yuuri questioned. 

Victor was completely moved into Yuuri’s home in Hasetsu now. He’d even let his lease on his apartment in St. Petersburg run out. This was real--Yuuri thought with more optimism than he remembered having felt before--he was really here. Permanently. He was staying.

“This past year I spent with you, then competing against you... I now recognize where I was, Yuuri.” Victor continued. “I’d accomplished everything there was to accomplish. Yet every year I felt like I had to do it all again, but better. Before last summer I was planning to take a break. What I didn’t know is that I had other options... until I met you.”

Victor closed the case with a metallic click, the sound echoing in the room where they were sitting together on the floor in Victor’s room. It was their room technically, as Yuuri now spent every night there.

“Losing to you was the closure I didn’t know I was looking for,” He said softly, expression so fond Yuuri was sure his heart would combust. 

Victor had a pensive look on his face and Yuuri reached over, lacing their fingers together. Victor immediately squeezed back.

“I think,” He continued. “There would’ve come a time, even a few years from now, when I’d look back on my career and feel unsatisfied and bitter. I was tired, Yuuri. I can’t remember the last time I’d felt inspired. I’d forgotten what it felt like to love the ice, but...”

Yuuri felt solemn as he listened to Victor’s confession. He’d been right, he realized. That look in Victor’s eyes when he got to see him up close and not through photos and a camera lens. Victor had been depressed and didn’t even know it. No one could tell either. As someone who’d lived through depressive spells for years it only made Yuuri’s heart ache. He couldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone someone he loved.

Victor pivoted to face him fully and lifted Yuuri’s other hand. He held both their hands up between them.

“Now I think when I look back on my career, I’ll see a story that came to its natural conclusion. When I was defeated in competition, it felt like I was free. You did that.” Throughout his confession he’d begun gingerly kissing the tips of Yuuri’s fingers, almost worshipful. 

He paused his ministrations. “And I can’t think of anyone better to pass that torch to...” He concluded. “Now it’s time I move on. I want to see someone else reach that pinnacle.” 

He took Yuuri's hand and gently kissed his palm. “But unlike me, you won’t be alone when you do it,” He promised.

“Victor...”

Yuuri sniffed and removed his glasses to wipe at his eyes. He didn’t even know when he started crying but it didn’t matter. After he placed them on the floor next to them he launched himself into Victor’s arms. There wasn’t anything he could do to take away Victor’s past hurt, but he could be there for him now. He would be there for him. He had a matching gold ring as proof of that commitment. 

There were times when he felt like he could drown in his love for Victor, it helped knowing the feeling was mutual.

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to Victor’s desire to see him succeed. He hadn’t mentioned it yet, but he’d amicably parted ways with Celestino after the season concluded. Winning a gold medal through beating Victor had been his goal; something he realized he’d wanted to do in Sochi too. As overwhelming as it was, he’d accomplished that. Twice. Yuuri didn’t know what was left for him if he continued.

Shortly after Victor talked about wanting to retire. The reality of a skating world without Victor made Yuuri mournful, but after hearing about how much skating ended up taking out of him, he understood. Then an idea struck him. Victor had a way of giving good advice, maybe he could apply that? Offhandedly Yuuri suggested he could coach. 

Victor looked surprised but said nothing. He liked to retreat to his thoughts quite a bit, Yuuri had noticed.

Yuuri wished he could take it back. His own thoughts always sounded better in his head. Out loud they usually sounded ridiculous.

It wasn’t so ridiculous however when a week passed, just before winter gave way to spring, that Victor announced that was exactly what he wanted to do. Not only that, but he wanted to coach him. He also believed Yuuri could score even higher.

“In fact,” Victor said and fixed him with a studious look. “I think you could even beat my combined total. What do you say, Yuuri? I won’t be easy on you. Only because I want to see you reach further than your wildest imagination. That’s how I’ll show my love.”

Yuuri--after sputtering for a good five minutes--finally agreed. If because he wanted nothing more than to stay with Victor long after he retired--now his fiancé and coach. Thanks to Victor, he also had a new goal to strive towards.

Winter had quickly become Yuuri’s favorite season.

[stennnn06]

Stennnn! So I've never really written anything like fanfic, but I really want to try and maybe give it a shot? But the problem I'm currently facing is trying to find a start point. I have this whole idea and plot in my mind and everything, but I just can't figure out how I can start it. Any tips and suggestions? Thanks again!!

hi darling!

well, to quote some harry potter, “i open at the close”.

i happen to be a big fan of working backwards, or even working from the middle, outwards. i very rarely START with my first scene....and most of my scenes get rearranged by the time the final draft is done, just based on the flow, and the order of how i want things revealed.

what i like to do (and, take this advice and adapt it for yourself, cuz everyone works differently!) is i like to outline my idea from start to finish at a high level. usually this means just going over the main plot and maybe the few scenes i already have conjured up in my brain and where i think they *might* fit.

for example, with my black mercy fic, it was literally like this: lena falls under black mercy, her fantasy is being with kara, supergirl has to convince her its not real in order to save her, theres chaos (thats literally what i wrote), and they end up together. lmao. vague outline, for the win! i also wrote down a ton of emotions/feelings that i wanted to convey with the story. so, in that example, lena feeling betrayed by her own mind and totally embarrassed was a major theme. kara feeling confused and bewildered by her own feelings was another. this helps develop the characters, and helps give you a gauge for WHY things are happening. i ended up needing to add more scenes to really dive into those emotions (like, for example, the scene where lena walks by kara’s apartment and sees her out on the balcony but turns around and walks away... not part of any initial plan, but more for the emotional value it might add). this is also where i decided i wanted to do a split POV and alternate between lena and kara, because i had so many feelings i needed to convey and only a small window to do it.

9 times out of 10 when i’m at this point, i still have zero idea how it truly starts. then, i start developing some of the scenes i already have a good handle on -- they might be filler scenes of fluff, they might be a major one with conflict, there might just be a chunk of dialogue i really like-- whatever the case may be. i always find when i start to create those scenes, the missing pieces begin to fill in around it. maybe there’s a piece of dialogue that happens that alludes to something you should develop in a previous scene. maybe a detail opens the door to a follow up scene or a flashback. this happens to me constantly...my flashbacks are hardly EVER planned, they just happen. i then go back to my outline and start adding the details that were lacking before-- extra scenes i forgot, tidbits about characters, headcanons i want to include. its usually in this process i get a GREAT idea for how this *might* start because i can start visualizing the details of the story better. so, i definitely have a non-linear approach to things and it works for me because otherwise i find myself getting stuck staring at the page. i try to write whatever is flowing, even if the scene is TOTALLY out of order. i can always find a place for it later, but personally i’d rather write something down than force something to happen when my brain isn’t ready to do it.

i also recommend starting with oneshots vs multi chap. try perfecting just getting yourself from A-B without a lot of other things going on, just for practice purposes. the best part about fanfic is you don’t need to spend TOO much time introducing the scene and characters, because we already know them! so you can just dive right in and it can still be a beautiful ficlet or oneshot. you can still outline and work the way i mentioned, but going in with the oneshot plan takes a lot of the pressure off when you’re working through your plot. 

hope this was somewhat helpful and i hope you have fun writing!