#I need to unclog the writing pen in my brain

[wiredandrewired]

Was trying to actually work on something but my brain is stuck on loop.  So instead I’m gonna make a post of the Voltron stuff sitting unposted in my writing WIP folder to help me organize my thoughts.

I guess since I’m posting this, if you have anything you wanna say/ask about any of these feel free.  I respond well to outside interest.

1. Project ReVolt is without a doubt the project I’ve posted about the most here.  And talked about in random tags.  And tangents.  Originally it was just the name the project had in my internal brain filing cabinet but it’s kind of spread and stuck to where my wife and I just refer to it as that when we talk about it.

ReVolt is basically going to be a VLD series rewrite more along the lines of how my wife and I would have done it or at least liked to see it done.  In some places it will probably stick pretty damn close to the events of the series canon, but in others go completely off the deep end.  We’re each going to be doing one, so a lot of the headcanon and worldbuilding and such that we’ve worked out together in various other stories and RPs will be consistent between the two stories, but it will also give us a place to veer out and do things without the others’ input (as we’re not gonna let each other see our fics until they post, tee hee).  I’ve done a SHITPOT of rules and infrastructure work using actual alchemy tracts to try and make sense of the series’ largely Powers As The Plot Demands system,  and am pretty convinced I’m going to A)fall hard into my very common Esoterica Ranting Mode pitfall and B)enrage literally everyone who reads it with my character and plot choices.  Most conservative estimate says this will be six ‘books’ long as again, we’re doing literally the entire series.  Current status: at the ‘ridiculously large amount of notes and setting up actual arcs and outlines’ stage, and waiting for the wife to finish ‘Happier HOPEless’.

2. There Are No Monsters Here is a fic I really want to do but cannot seem to get off the ground, set to take place entirely in the ‘last universe’ from season 8--the one native-Honerva died in and crazed-death-god-Honerva picked out as her ideal and tried to wedge herself into.  I guess the basic idea was that, like the ‘main’ universe, it got rebuilt pretty much as it was prior to Nightmare Mom Ruining Everything, and I have it with no one fully remembering the events of season 8 that took place there, but characters really closely tied to those events having some itching feeling that something happened, and all the Altean alchemists agreeing that some kind of massive quantum Event certainly occurred even if they don’t know what.  

Mostly the story exists as  a place for me to have a canon-compliant AU that still lets me explore stuff like Altean history, the racial and cultural tensions of the Coalition, dink around with Oldadins that DON’T die in one fell swoop, a living Daibazaal and Altea, Lotor growing up with a decent-but-not-without-strains relationship with his dad, teen Allura and tiny Lotor being absolute shits to each other while also coming to terms as they grow up with who and what they MUST be both on a political and quantum scale, and generally prove that even a perfect universe isn’t, all in one place.  The title is entirely facetious, and anyone who’s read any of my alien culture headcanons for this series knows that.  Lol.  Current status: lots of bits and pieces, but no good beginning or connective tissue.   I have a lot of notes, some arc outlines, and a few scattered scenes and bits of dialogue from later in the story, but my god, I CANNOT get it off the ground.

3. Someone Must Get Hurt (But It Won’t Be Me) is supposed to be a pretty wholly Honerva-centric fic that starts...sometime in her youth?...and carries forward to an as-yet-undetermined point.  Probably her death.  I mean the first one.  I’m not sure.  Another chance to dig my fingers into Altean culture and Alchemy, this time leading up to All The Bad Shit That Happened, with the added bonus of being done from a focal point of a character I have a lot of really strong feelings about both positive and negative that’s resulted in me somehow being EVEN MORE wrapped up in her than I was before I added abject knee-jerk trauma hatred to the mix.  In no way meant to make Honerva more sympathetic, I think I just want to write her even more like my mother so I’ll feel EVEN BETTER about killing her?  Idk man my feelings about her are so complicated.  Also an excuse to write a shitpot of her and Zarkon because listen, I’m really glad they’re married because I ship them so fuckin hard.   Current Status: SO many notes.  SO much infrastructure.  Like three pages of an opening I’m almost definitely throwing away because I can’t decide where, when, or how to open but feel like this isn’t it.  One short but very telling scene of Honey and Zarkon from late in the story.  I’m obsessed with it but I can’t get anywhere. 

4. Currently Untitled Demon Hunter AU started because my wife talks to me about Happier HOPEless a LOT and I just got an itch in my bones to work on one myself.  In spite of the entire Demon Hunter AU thing getting started by a prompt on a Shance blog, neither Shiro nor Lance are set to appear for at least a chapter?  And I am not confident in my ability to not veer off into utter non-shipping anyway because man, am I bad at it.  Or like...just an entirely different ship for either or both of them.  Current Status: A lot of vague notes, a POWERFUL urge to structure the chapters and overall arc after Ripley’s Gates even though that limits my chapter count and means I will DEFINITELY have 20k+ word chapters, and about seven pages of the first chapter so I guess I’m committed now?

5. Currently Untitled Post Series Fic basically exists for me to vent my frustrations about two main things: The Universe is Fucking Huge And There Are Dangers Other Than Galra, and The Galra Empire Was Huge and Is Not Going To All Fall In Line Behind Voltron Coalition and Especially Behind Keith Who Just Arbitrarily Fucking Decided To Tell Them They Couldn't Pick A New Leader According To Their Own Traditions And Need To Do What They’re Told Now What The Fuck.  Also there was a lot of stuff in the series that got left hanging, and while ReVolt is an IN-series fix-it fic, I wanted something that patched up loose ends in a way that was satisfactory to me but also kind of canon-compliant.  Current Status: A lot of notes and screaming.  No one has seen my progress on this and they might never.

6. Dog Runs And Death Dreams is a warmup file turned deeply self-indulgent series of scenes in which I choose to assume that Shiro’s rare neuromuscular disorder was left so ambiguous so I could plug the symptoms of mine into it.  It’s genuinely not any deeper than that.  The whole thing is set pre-Kerberos, and includes copious Shiro x Adam content because of it, but also not the kind that makes me feel good about writing because that means it includes the ‘slow fizzle’ that leads up to their breakup before the mission.  Ugh.  Working on it does make me feel better when I've been having symptoms, though, and I’ve been letting myself write it, unchastised, in a really loose rambly way that I usually deride myself for.  It’s just cathartic.  Current Status: no notes, no plan, just strain-writing between seizures, but somehow it feels like it has some kind of structure and just keeps growing?  Possibly too close to the bone for me to ever post.

7. Birth and Rebirth was born out of two things: the fact that Zarkon is shown to have two ENTIRELY DIFFERENT reactions to first being presented with his baby son in different flashbacks and different seasons, and the fact that in spite of the flashbacks we get at the end of the series, earlier on, the impression I got of Lotor and Zarkon’s relationship wasn’t of a young man who had never had affection from his father, but who had instead lost it.  Well, three things: I have a lot of underlying issues at work, at play, and at large when it comes to the Galra Imperial Family.  Also, anyone notice the monitor blips in the first baby Lotor flashbacks indicate a heart murmur?  Anyway, it was supposed to be a thoroughly self-indulgent and thoroughly self-hurtful examination of Lotor’s early life and the death by degrees of what was left of his father in the husk Rift Adventures left behind, but I got stuck on it a little way in.   Current Progress: ten pages, a lot of notes, and some wistfulness.  I keep hoping I’ll get inspired to pick it back up again.  Contemplating rewriting some of the beginning, maybe it’ll help?

Bonus entry that is not actually in any form of progress soever:

50/50 Voltron Trashfire Edition is spawned from the ‘50/50′ challenge on an old TF board I used to haunt.  It’s a fifty-prompt smut challenge using the list of ‘50 reasons to have sex’ from some tv show, and the idea is to write a different ship for every prompt (hence the name).  My wife is blazing through it and has several (like twelve?) up on her AO3, but I’ll be utterly blunt: I haven’t written fifty porn fics in my LIFE.  Over ALL my fandoms.  Current Status: Literally all I have done is assign a ship to each prompt, and I might actually have some prompts with just question marks beside them still.  I have one aborted start to one entry.  That’s it.  It’s not happening.  But the empty file is technically in the folder, SO.

[the-quiet-winds]

The Wheel Breaks the Butterfly

so, i wasn’t going to post this now... but the anon this morning made an excellent point and i felt that it’s time for one of the angstiest things that @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i have ever written together.

the last show of the week brings one tradition: drinks, hair, bed. as the queens parade down the hall backstage, katherine can't help but notice jane's lack of celebratory enthusiasm. instead, she immediately ducks into their dressing room bathroom and closes the door.

"mum?" katherine calls. "are you coming for drinks?"

"not tonight, love," jane answers through the door. "you go on ahead."

it doesn't surprise katherine when they get home and jane is already in bed. what does surprise her is when she gets up the next morning and the kitchen is empty. it's already half past nine, jane was usually up way earlier than now.

katherine waits in the kitchen for almost half an hour, eating a bowl of incredibly sugary cereal and glancing over social media on her phone. when it hits 10am katherine can’t help but wonder if something happened. jane was a morning person, much to the chagrin of the other queens, and getting up after 10am was unheard of for her. katherine goes back up the stairs and pauses in front of jane’s door, knocking gently. “mum?” she calls through the wood. “are you in there?”

she hears coughing from the other side of the door and she pushes it open. jane is curled on her side facing away from katherine, and katherine approaches the bed, concerned.

when jane woke up that morning, she knew something was most definitely wrong. she hadn't felt great the night before, but this morning was even worse. her chest ached from coughing and her stomach felt like it had turned itself inside out and flipped over at the same time. she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed that morning, which felt even worse.

"mum? are you in there?" she hears katherine's voice. she wants to tell her "i'm fine, darling. just fine," but her voice slips into another coughing fit. jane then hears the door open, and right at that exact moment, anxiety and fear and most likely food poisoning bubble inside of her until she throws herself on the floor, stumbles into her bathroom, and empties the already meager contents of her stomach.

“mum!” katherine gasps, darting after her into the bathroom. “mum, are you okay?”

she wasn’t entirely sure why she said it, considering that jane was very decidedly not okay at that second, but it was all she could think of to say. jane retches again, before breaking into a coughing fit.

“i’ll get you some water, mum,” katherine says hurriedly. “i’ll be right back, i promise!”

she practically runs downstairs, almost slipping on the wooden floor, and fills up a cup of water from the sink. she races back as quickly as she can without spilling it and finds jane sitting on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale and miserable. jane attempts to smile at her when katherine puts the glass down but she can’t even manage that at the moment without an accompanying cough.

jane very weakly brings her hands together with a cough. she's miming out writing something down...katherine jumps up and grabs a piece of paper and a pen and brings it back. jane's hand trembles as she writes the note and hands it to katherine. jane's normally perfectly loopy handwriting is jagged and shaky. "you should go, don't want you getting sick as well," katherine reads aloud. jane winces slightly at the words, before she flushes alabaster white and throws up again, shaking like a leaf over the toilet bowl.

katherine drops to kneel on the floor next to jane, hands wringing uncertainly before one hand goes to rub jane’s back comfortingly. “i’m not going anywhere, mum,” she says, voice uncharacteristically firm and a lot braver than she felt. katherine may not have been sure exactly how to make jane feel better, but she knew she wasn’t going to leave her side until she was.

jane's insides are turning over, not just from whatever sickness this is. she can't help but remember feeling exactly like this before she died, not even getting to hold her son. she doesn't want that to happen again. she doesn't want katherine to be there if history is doomed to repeat itself. her throat is impossibly tight and raw and she wants to scream but can't even make a sound. she wants to tell katherine to go to parr or aragon and let her be miserable on her own, but she just can’t. so, as much as she hates herself for it, she wrenches herself away from katherine's comforting touch. with a heavy cough and every muscle in her body burning, she backs away across the floor.

“mum?” katherine asks uncertainly, attempting to shuffle towards her, but jane shakes her head as best she can.

“mum, i don’t understand,” katherine says, fear slipping into her tone. “what’s wrong?” she reaches a hand out but jane backs up even further, muscles screaming in pain as she backs away from katherine.

jane's back is pressed against the side of the tub. her breaths are coming out as wheezy gasps, panic coursing through every sore muscle and burning ligament. she has to get katherine away from her. her vision blurs, with tears or from the illness, she isn't quite sure, but she sees the very recognizable shape of her daughter, pink hair and brown eyes and a loving concern on her face, hazily in front of her. jane blindly reaches behind her, grabbing an unwrapped roll of toilet paper, and weakly throws it in her general direction. it collides with katherine's chest and falls to the ground, both having the same quiet thumping noise.

“mum!” katherine says, close to tears. “mum, i’m trying to help you!” her gaze darts frantically from the roll of toilet paper on the floor in front of her to jane, and her bottom lip trembles. “i just don’t know how to help.” she stands suddenly, heart racing. “i’m gonna get parr,” she says, voice shaky and tears starting to escape, “but i’ll come back, i promise!”

the wool jammed in jane's head unclogs for just long enough to see katherine rush out of the bathroom with tears in her eyes. jane hates it. absolutely hates it. she also hate how she immediately lunges forward to close the bathroom door and locks it, leaving her sprawled on the floor, every fiber of her being feeling like it is on fire. she lays on the floor, her head against the cool tile, trying to ground herself. she barely reacts as voices being to float through the door.

katherine could barely communicate what was wrong to parr, but the distraught look on the girl’s face combined with the fact parr could pick the word “jane” out of katherine’s rush of emotion meant that she’d jumped out of her desk chair and followed Katherine right away.

“really not well- doesn’t want me there I don’t know why but she doesn’t-” katherine rambles anxiously as they approach the bathroom door and parr puts a hand on her shoulder.

“kid, it’s going to be okay,” parr says gently. “i just need you to calm down, okay?”

katherine nods, but the lump in her throat says otherwise. parr reaches out and grabs the handle of the bathroom door to open it. it doesn’t move. parr frowns and does it again, more forcefully this time.

“what’s the matter?” katherine asks, fear creeping through her. parr doesn’t answer, instead knocking firmly on the door.

“jane?” she calls. “jane, can you hear me?”

jane can hear the anxiety in katherine’s voice as it muddles its way into her head. she hears the door rattling and parr repeatedly calling her name, but she is too weak to respond. she breaks into another coughing fit, one that lasts far too long. she feels very drowsy, and the rug on the bathroom floor feels so nice... maybe she could just open the door, let herself fall asleep surrounded by her friends and her daughter...

no, she steels herself. she can’t fall asleep. she can’t give up. not on katherine. for just a fleeting second, her tired and messed up brain flickers to an image of katherine holding her body, screaming and sobbing. jane feels something in herself snap. if she dies, she dies here alone, and that’s that. she has no strength left to even pick herself up off the floor or move at all, so she continues to lay, stretched out on her stomach. the only sounds loud enough to pass through the door are her coughing and shorty, wheezy breaths.

“jane,” parr continues calmly as katherine’s eyes widen in terror, “jane, if you can hear me I need you to unlock the door. if you don’t then i’m going to have to call an ambulance, and they’re going to have to cut the door down to get to you.” there’s no reply from inside and katherine lets out a sob, grabbing uselessly at the handle and pounding the palm of her hand against the door. “mum, please!” she wails. “please, open up, please say something!”

parr pulls her phone out of her pocket, a grim expression on her face.

jane still hears katherine, her sweet, sweet katherine, crying out her name and banging on the door. the sound only added to the pounding in jane's head, which began to alleviate bit by bit as she slipped farther and farther into sleep. with a final burst of energy, she grabs the paper and pen, discarded on the floor, and writes one final note. she can barely keep her eyes open, her stomach is doing flips, and everything is white and blurry but somehow she writes her message perfectly, if not messily. "I'm sorry, my Kitty-Kat," it reads, "With love in this life or any other, mum." then every bit of strength in her already weak body gives out. the pen drops to the floor and jane's upper body collides with the tile with a mighty thud.

from the other side of the door katherine hears the thud and her heart feels like it stops dead. “mum?” she lets out a pitiful whimper and clutches the door handle desperately. she can vaguely hear parr on the phone to 999 but all she can focus on is the fact that jane was on the other side of the door, unresponsive and alone, and there was nothing Katherine could do about it. she sinks to her knees, desperate sobs racking her frame as she claws at the door, not caring as she almost breaks her fingernails. parr’s hands grab under her arms and pull her away from the door even as she struggles and cries for her mum.

“kid,” parr says urgently. “kid! katherine! the ambulance are on their way, they’re going to come and help. they know the door is locked and they’ve got some tools to open it. i promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

"how can you say that?!" katherine cries. "she's along in there!" her voice suddenly drops as she pushes tears from her cheeks. "you should have heard the sound, that i heard while you were on the phone. something's wrong." then she starts crying again.

"what's all this racket?!" aragon shouts as she enters the room, still dressed in her pyjamas. boleyn and cleves follow after, both similarly agitated. one look at the hysterical howard and grave looking parr sobers them, and the wailing of the ambulance sirens outside answers their questions. parr, the nimblest of the bunch, shoots downstairs to let the paramedics in. their boots and voices echo through the house as they come upstairs. the five women watch as they tear down the door to jane's bathroom. there she is, a horrid sight indeed. she's sprawled on her stomach, pale and barely breathing, pen and paper next to her hands.

the paramedics share a few brief words before they transfer jane over to a stretcher, one taking her pulse and another checking for consciousness.

“are they gonna take her?” katherine asks, voice breaking. “i need to go with her, please!” she tries to stand, almost falling when her knees buckle beneath her. Parr and cleves manage to steady her between them and one of the paramedics turns to her.

“are you a relation of the patient?” he asks, and despite his formal words he speaks kindly. katherine nods.

“i’m her daughter.”

the paramedic glances behind him, then back at her. “there’s room in the ambulance for one person to travel.” katherine looks at parr desperately who gives her a nod.

“you go, kid. we’ll catch you up in the car.”

the paramedic sends katherine a reassuring smile. “we’re going to take her out now, so come with us. oh and,” he holds out a piece of paper. “if she’s your mum, then I imagine this is for you.”

katherine can't bring herself to look at the paper that second, so she shoves it in her pocket and follows the paramedics down the stairs and into the ambulance. they speed off towards the hospital, and all katherine can do is tightly grip one of jane's hands. she can't look at jane's face. she just can't. jane should be smiling that gentle and loving smile and soothing kat's worries with a quiet and calm voice, not laying somewhere between life and death. "come on, mum," she pleads desperately. "i need you, please." with five minutes to go before they reach the hospital, she pulls the crumpled paper out of her pocket. with a trembling sigh, she opens it and reads it.

as katherine reads the words her hands start to shake. several teardrops escape and slide down her cheeks, dripping onto the paper and smudging the ink. katherine knew what jane meant; she thought she was going to die. in this life or any other. that’s what she meant. katherine crumples the paper up into a ball and shoves it back into her pocket, angry tears flowing faster and faster.

“you’re not dying on me now,” she hisses, taking jane’s hand and holding it tightly. “don’t you dare.”

of course, jane doesn't respond. the ambulance is too loud for katherine, the roaring of the engine, the beeping of monitors, the loud radio chatter. it all swirls around her head, topped off by the overwhelming fear and concern katherine is feeling. they get to the hospital and doctors whisk jane away without a second thought. as katherine brings herself to the waiting room chairs on very shaky legs, she can't help but wonder if this is what jane felt four months ago after the fiasco at the airport. there's too much to think about and too much to hear, so katherine just drops her head into her hands, but she can't bring herself to cry. she simply has to wait.

she sits there, head in hands, alone and silent with her mind whirring for almost half an hour before the other queens catch up. she hears them around her but she doesn’t look at them, can’t bear to see their pitying faces. when parr puts an arm around her, however, and pulls katherine into her chest, that’s the moment where katherine loses all control. tears stream down her face in pathetic sobs, clinging to parr as she holds her tightly in a way that reminds her so much of jane, but wrong somehow, because it’s not her. she sobs and sobs like an overtired child, soaking parr’s shirt and past the point of caring.

it isn’t long after katherine has stopped crying when the doctors enter the room, looking unfortunately neutral. katherine nearly falls over as she stands up. she clumsily wipes the last remnants of tears from her cheeks. “well?”

the doctor looks her straight in the eye. “it was a very sudden and very severe case of appendicitis.”

he says no more, and katherine wants to strangle him because he won’t tell her what she wants most to know. just as she is about to launch into a tirade, he speaks again.

“she’s out of surgery and awake, asking to see a katherine seymour?”

“that’s me,” katherine says hastily, swallowing down the angry speech she’d been about to give. “can i see her, please?”

the doctor nods. “follow me.”

he leads her into the ward and the second katherine sees jane, lying in that hospital bed, she can’t help race towards her bedside.

“mum!” she says, the only thing stopping her from throwing herself into jane’s arms being the knowledge that she just got out of surgery. instead  she drags a chair right next to the bedside.

jane still looks pale and incredibly weak, but she manages a smile when she sees katherine.

“hello, sweetheart,” she croaks.

katherine is so elated at seeing her mum alive that she almost forgets how angry she is.

almost.

the doctor leaves the room a moment later, then tears begin to run down katherine’s cheeks again. “you thought you were going to die...” she mumbles through her tears, eyes unable to meet jane’s. “you thought you were going to die and you wanted to be alone?” suddenly she looks up, and jane’s heart aches when that look, the look of a scared and lonely girl, is the only thing that she can recognize on katherine’s face. “you thought you were going to die and you weren’t even going to say goodbye!” her anger is diluted by tears, her voice strong but very shaky. she lowers it again. “all you were going to do was leave a note?”

“kat,” jane starts, voice weak and trembling. “kat, i’m sorry, love. i didn’t want you to see it happen.”

“so, what,” katherine says, voice thick with anger and tears. “you thought it’d be better for me to find your dead body? for that note to be my last memory of you? for you to lock me out-” katherine’s voice cuts off with a sob, unable to speak any more.

jane reaches out a trembling hand, pushing back the curtain of hair that had fallen over katherine’s shoulder, then resting it on her cheek, wiping some tears away with light strokes of her thumb. “kat, honey.” she speaks very softly, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice except for a quiet and gentle security. “i know it wasn’t right for me to do that to you. but i was just so scared...” she raises her hand to the top of katherine’s head, smoothing down some of the hair as it returns to her cheek. “scared of leaving you like i left my son.”

katherine leans into the movement instinctively, needing the reassurance that jane really was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere. “i was scared too,” she says in a quiet, broken little voice. jane struggles to sit up slightly,  wincing in pain and a gasp escaping her. katherine immediately turns anxious. “mum?”

“it’s okay, sweetheart,” jane gives her a smile through gritted teeth. “i’m just a bit sore from the operation.” she settles back against the pillows and takes katherine’s hand, pulling it close to her.

“i couldn’t face it,” she says softly. “the thought of leaving you. not again, not like this.”

“i thought...” jane starts, then breaks off with a weak chuckle. “i thought it’d be easier for you afterwards, with all of them there with you.” she runs her thumb over katherine’s knuckles. “i’m so sorry, love. it was so wrong of me.” she tries to lean forward, and katherine closes the distance and jane’s lips land on katherine’s forehead. she pulls back and holds kat at eye level. “can you forgive me kitty-kat?”

katherine holds jane’s gaze for a few seconds before her face crumples, and she drapes her arm across jane in the gentlest hug she could possibly manage, resting her head on jane’s shoulder.

“of course i can,” she sniffles. “just- if anything like this happens again, please, just please, don’t shut me out again.”

jane entire soul at the tiredness and anguish in katherine’s voice. “i promise, love. never again.” she chuckles lightly. “i mean hopefully i’ll never be so sick i nearly die...” she feels katherine shudder against her and she regrets her words. jane presses a light kiss into katherine’s hair. “bad timing, i’m sorry sweetheart. and i promise, no more locking you out. never again.”

“good,” katherine says, with only the tiniest amount of a pout in her voice. she shifts slightly and speaks again, voice muffled against jane’s hospital gown. “i love you, mum.”

jane smiles. “I love you too, kitty-kat. and i always will.” she pauses before she reaches the next part of their phrase, unsure if it was too soon to remind katherine of ‘any other life’.

katherine feels jane’s breath hitch in her chest, and she understands instantly. “in this life...or any other,” she finishes in a quiet voice. “but this one is all that matters,” she continues.

jane relaxes and brings a hand up to gently pet the back of katherine’s hair. “that’s right, sweetheart.”

they stay in this position for a little while until katherine’s legs start to cramp up from holding herself there, and she backs down to sit back on the chair again. jane keeps hold of her hand though, and squeezes it reassuringly.

“i should be able to come home within three days, that’s what the doctor said. maybe sooner, if everything goes well.”

“that’s too long,” katherine whines. jane smiles and giggles lightly at katherine’s childlike attitude. “i’m sorry, love,” she says. “but you can visit as much as you’d like, i promise.”

“i’ll stay here until they kick me out,” katherine says with a smile. “and then i’ll come back tomorrow as soon as they let me back in.”

“i don’t doubt it, love,” jane laughs. she yawns slightly, covering her mouth with her hand. “goodness, having an operation really does take it out of you.”

“i’m sure that’s not the only thing,” katherine says knowingly. jane blushes sheepishly. she certainly hadn’t gotten that much sleep. “but i won’t fall asleep!” jane declares, failing miserably at her goal. “not while you’re here with me.”

“it’s okay if you do fall asleep,” katherine smiles softly. “i’m happy to just sit here, and, y’know, you deserve a rest, mum.” She squeezes jane’s hand gently. “after all, we’ve got a whole lifetime to spend together.”

“i’m still going to try,” jane says with a soft laugh.

jane smiles sleepily. “oh kitty-kat, a lifetime together is all i want,” she drowsily mumbles. “my little seymour,” she breathes as she drops off to sleep.

katherine smiles, a feeling or warmth and security running through her at jane’s words. she leans up and presses a soft kiss to jane’s cheek, carefully so she didn’t wake her up. “love you, mum,” she murmurs.

[isaxahprescott]

Isaiah Park (Sinclair) | #312hqtasksfive - A Development Task

what was your character like when they first joined? what were their traits, hobbies, habbits, lifestyle, etc? 

         Frick, my poor boy was so heckin’ lost when he first came to Chicago. Everything that had went down that caused his decision to leave NYC was still so fresh on the brain and he hated himself so darn much. He was so much more reserved and had no desire in getting to know anyone, terrified that if they got too close, they would find him out and hate him just as much as he hated himself for being a part of the reason that his best friend died. He didn’t freakin’ know how to do the laundry or anything mundane bc it was all done for him growing up. He didn’t know what he was going to do next, he just knew that he wasn’t going back home any time soon.

how has your character changed / developed since working at malnati’s? have their traits, hobbies, habbits, or lifestyle changed?

           Zaya’s still a bit awkward around other’s but now he’s trying really hard to make friends and he smiles so much more now and doesn’t stutter as much???? Meeting all these incredible people like Freddi who have helped him get out of his shell or Chardon, who’s had no problem in teaching him how to do things like cleaning or ironing?? Like, he’s in a whole lot better place now and can be a lil shiz when comfortable enough around you. There’s a lot of sarcasm and self deprecating jokes bc there’s still a lot of progress to be made in the self love department but gosh darn it, he’s stopped smoking bc he’s started channeling his nerves into something more positive like playing his uke Sophie or watching space documentaries with Jules. He now sort of sees boxing as more of a form of exercise rather than a way to let out all of his pent up feelings. He’s slowly progressed so much and kind of feels like he’s found himself a second home and I’m so so happy about it :’)

how do you think your character might change or evolve moving forward now? do you have any hopes or goals for them?

         He’s still got a long ways to go with accepting that Johnny is now gone and there’s not much else he can really do about it, but now he’s actually been able to share the experience with the people he’s closest to ( ie. Gianna and Freddi) and doesn’t have to bare that burden alone . I’d love to see him be able to go to his grave and kinda give his late best friend the sort of closure that they both need. I want to see him feel more sure of himself and gain his confidence back (not as much to the point that he’s hecka cocky and awful about it like he once was, but a good amount). He’s still trying to figure out what it is that he wants in life and I hope to see him find something that makes him real happy that he doesn’t want to let go of. I really want to see him make more friends and slowly become comfortable enough around them, too. (Especially with Teo, frick, I just need them to make up and become bros again, pls, before I die) I want him to be able to go back to New York and see his family after all this time; to realize that he can stop running from his past now, bc it’s going to be okay. I also want him to meet with a counselor when he’s ready and figure out a way to get help for his anxiety.  Overall, I just want him to find peace and contentment in this new lifestyle that he’s built for himself. 

bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially.  ( x )

absent-minded / abusive / addicted / aimless / alcoholic / aloof / anxious / arrogant / audacious / has bad habits / bigmouthed / bigoted / blunt / bold / callous / childish / cruel / cursed / dependent / dishonest / disloyal / disturbed / dubious / egotistical / envious / erratic / fanatical / fickle / fierce / finicky / flirty / gluttonous / gruff / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypocritical / idiotic / ignorant / illiterate / immature / impatient / impious / impish / incompetent / indecisive / indifferent / infamous / intolerant / judgemental / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / masochistic / meddlesome / meek / megalomanic / naïve / nosey / obsessive / oppressive / overambitious / overemotional / overprotective / overzealous / paranoid / peevish / perfectionist / pessimistic / phobic / rebellious / reckless / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sarcastic / sceptic / seducer / selfish / self-martyr / self-righteous / senile / shallow / smart ass / solemn / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / squeamish / stubborn / superstitious / tactless / temperamental / theatrical / timid / tongue-tied / unlucky / unpredictable / untrustworthy / vain / weak-willed / withdrawn

bold all that apply. my muse knows how to … ( x )

bake a cake from scratch (partially) | ride a horse | drive stick | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give CPR | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read Morse code | pick a lock

bold which habits your muse has … ( x )

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking (used to have) | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back or their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

[cuiwritingstudio]

How to Beat Writer’s Block in Four Easy Steps

By Jocelyn Broadwick, Online Writing Lab (OWL) Consultant

So what if I told you that writer’s block wasn’t a real thing…

I know, I know! Blasphemy, right? Being able to play the “Writer’s Block” card is one of every writer’s favorite tricks of the trade.

I don’t like to write when I don’t feel “inspired” either. I’m just not sure it’s a valid excuse for not writing—especially when my job as a professional (or a student!) is to write.

As best-selling novelist Philip Pullman put it, “I don’t believe in [writer’s block]. All writing is difficult. The most you can hope for is a day when it goes reasonably easily. Plumbers don’t get plumber’s block, and doctors don’t get doctor’s block; why should writers be the only profession that gives a special name to the difficulty of working and then expects sympathy for it?”

He has a point.

Honestly, when writers—myself included—cry “Writer’s block!”, what we’re really trying to say is we haven’t done the best planning. In other words, we haven’t taken the necessary pre-writing steps to be successful when we finally do sit down to write.

Luckily, we can train ourselves to avoid writer’s block by doing four simple things:

1. Write in an environment that is conducive to writing

Every writer has the right to determine her own sacred writing space. But regardless of whether that space is a coffee shop or a hidden alcove in the library or the wooden desk in your dorm, it needs to be set apart exclusively for the act of writing. It also needs to be distraction-free. That means no distracting things (e.g., phone, T.V., social media, etc.) and also no distracting people (e.g., friends, significant others, parents, pets, or roommates). Everything you love and everyone you hold dear will still be there once you finish writing. And once you write, you’ll be able to experience all of it/them guilt-free.

2. Gather everything you need to write before sitting down to actually write

These items may include a pen or pencil, a notebook, a computer, any notes, readings, or assignment instructions, a snack, a drink... You get that idea. When we take the time to prepare our writing space for our writing sessions, we ensure that once we begin, we’re able to continue uninterrupted until we’re finished or, at least, until we’re ready to take a break.

3. Reward your progress

Stepping away from your writing when you need to is more than O.K. In fact, it’s often necessary to ultimately turn out your best product. But in order for your writing breaks to be the productive brain recharge that you need, you’ll want to build in the time to take them. You’ll also want them to be rewarding. Maybe after you write the introduction to your essay you get to spend 15 minutes obsessively refreshing your Facebook feed. Or maybe after you finish outlining your research paper, you get to binge watch the next episode in your Netflix queue. The key is to set clear goals and deadlines for yourself up front so that when you meet them, you can celebrate. And you really should—you deserve it!

4. Be real with yourself about writing

If you don’t like to write, accept this and do what you can to make peace with it. But also acknowledge that whatever you do school- or career-wise, you’re going to write in some way. You don’t have to like it, but you’re going to have to do it. And by being realistic with yourself about the days, times, and places you personally can and cannot write, you’re making a hard thing that much easier.

For example, despite being a writer and loving writing, I cannot and will not write at night. I am a morning person. When I was an undergraduate at Concordia, I would much rather wake up at 3, 4, or 5 a.m. to finish a paper than try to do any type of thinking after 9 p.m. My roommate was the exact opposite. She’d snooze her alarm for hours. But that’s because she knew that when I embraced my inner octogenarian and went to bed right after Wheel of Fortune, she’d have the entire night to herself to study, research, and to write. One approach was not better than the other. We both graduated from CUI having done well and on time. It was simply what worked for our different personalities. And a cultivation of such self-knowledge—both your strengths and your own limitations—will take you far in both your academic and professional lives.

So the next time you find yourself stuck when it comes to writing, take a step back and try to figure out why specifically that might be the case:

Have you set clear goals for the writing you want to accomplish?

Have you taken into account the assignment, as well as your own personal, deadlines?

Have you motivated yourself with a clear reward system?

Have you found a realistic time and an appropriate space in which to write?

Have you brought everything you need to write with you?

Have you rid yourself of everything that will keep you from writing?

And if you need help figuring out the answers to any or all of these questions, do you know where to go or who to turn to?

At the Writing Studio, in addition to reviewing and discussing your writing, we’re also always happy to help you figure out the unique things that you need in order to make yourself the best writer you can be. So don’t hesitate to visit and share with us any difficulties you may be experiencing! I mean, we’re all pretty much human Drāno® when it comes to unclogging other writers’ blocks at this point.

For additional resources and tips on how to overcome the myth of writer’s block, please see this excellent handout and series of worksheets from the Writing Center at the University of Maryland, Baltimore.