#Note: That scene is from my first fanfic. It’s not the best grammar and everything

[rookie-lou]

Pre-race-jokes

Just a random Cal & Bobby & Lightning scene:

"Not a good day?" Bobby asked, a bit worried as he saw Lightning’s tired gaze.

"No, I'm fine. Just a bit stressed, I think,” Lightning said.

"Hmm, then I have just the right thing for you." Cal pulled out a small book from under the bench.

"Oh, please, please don't! Have mercy!" Bobby begged.

"What is it?" Lightning looked curiously at the small colorful book on Cal's lap.

"1000 jokes for everyone," Cal said with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah! And I've heard at least 700 of them today. And they're not even good! Cal follows me with the book all day," Bobby groaned dramatically.

Lightning chuckled and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"So...," Cal began, still grinning.

"Please don't" Bobby started one last try, but in vain.

"What's red and bad for your teeth?" Cal looked at Lightning and waited for an answer.

"Uh...I dunno."

"A brick!" Cal grinned at his fantastic joke.

Bobby rolled his eyes but also had to smile a bit.

Lightning chuckled again. "Seriously? That doesn't even make..."

"Wait, I've got another one here. What did one ocean say to the other ocean?”

"Oh, I know," Lightning said. "Nothing, they just waved..."

"Aw, why did you know the answer already?" Cal asked disappointed.

"Maybe because everyone knows?" Bobby replied.

"Okay, okay, let me tell you one more." Cal flipped through his book again. "What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?"

Lightning took a few sips of water from the bottle that the others had provided for him. He shrugged questioningly.

"A stick!" Cal laughed out loud and nudged Lightning with his elbow in the side.

Lightning spewed water a few feet wide.

Bobby laughed and Lightning had to laugh too. The whole situation was very funny. Probably more Cal's enthusiasm than the jokes. But still funny.

They laughed and a few people were already looking in their direction with raised eyebrows.

I’ll always be proud of you (posted June, last year)

[chameliyun]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

thanks for the tag @spacejammie-eimmajecaps!

How many works do you have on ao3? Officially 8, but I have one on anon and one currently unrevealed in a fic exchange

What's your total ao3 word count? 61,996

What fandoms do you write for? So far I've written for Death Note, Tangled the Series, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Haikyuu, plus a couple of crossovers. Haikyuu is definitely my main rn though

What are your top five fics by kudos? #1: Frosting and Freckles: 69 (nice) #2: Draw Me Near: 39 #3: [embarrassing anon fic]: 35 #4: Varian Is Not a Wizard: 25 #5: Midnight Coda: 21

Do you respond to comments? Yeah, I love to! I don't get a lot so they always make me happy :)

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? probably the anon fic sdfsk but other than that, Midnight Coda is kinda bittersweet because of what happens later

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? hmm idk but the sappiest is definitely Frosting and Freckles

Do you get hate on fics? Not so far, thankfully! I don't think I have a big enough readership for that haha

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have not; not sure what kind it would be if I did

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I love writing crossovers! A PJO/HP crossover was actually what got me into fanfic. Unfortunately most of them are merely concepts or abandoned (for now), but as for crazy, I think my Lunar Chronicles/PJO one is the craziest in terms of how the plot grew out of control from a simple "what if these two characters interacted" to "I could rewrite most of this series," which is why I got stuck and put it on hiatus lol but I do want to get back to it someday. Maybe once I finish my other active crossover

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge

What's the longest you've spent working on one fic? And the shortest? Uhhh well if we count "working on" as "having it in the back of mind to get to but haven't worked on in months," probably Sent from the Heavens lol. If not, then Varian Is Not a Wizard (just over two years since I published the first chapter). Shortest is definitely Midnight Coda, since I wrote that pretty much in a day iirc

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds like it could be fun!

What's your all-time favorite ship? From all fandoms? Dude I have no idea how to narrow that down. Best I can give you is my current fave is Tsukkiyama from Haikyuu

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably my "Leo Valdez ends up in the ATLA world" one :sob: It never made it past the word doc and about three pages of story and I haven't looked at it in like two years

What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm pretty good at dialogue and grammar/spelling

What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else (jk). I am awful at describing scenes/settings; I get bored writing them so I don't put as much effort in as I should haha. I also tend to ramble and use passive voice too much

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I haven't done it, but I think it's fine as long as it fits the context

First fandom you wrote for? Published: Avatar: The Last Airbender. Unpublished: Percy Jackson

Favorite fic you've written? I think it's still Bent Out of Shape. It's so niche, but I had an idea and I executed it, and I'm proud of what I accomplished. Although once I finish Varian Is Not a Wizard, that might take the top slot.

No-pressure tagging: @supermarine-silvally @starrynightarchive @litterateur97 @palant1r @soreiya @lilac-writes @oloreandil @kandybarkreepshow @ellegamgee and anyone else who wants to!

[bookwyrminspiration]

How did you start your writing and how did you get to where you are now? I'm also a writer and was wondering if you have any advice, because I admire your writing style and want to get better.

That's very kind of you and I'm flattered you're asking me for advice, Nonsie! Smiling like a silly goose over the compliments. I will do my best to answer :) My answer is also a little wordy (to no one's surprise), so under a cut! Hopefully some of it is helpful!

I started writing more seriously around middle school. I'd written random blurbs for English when I was 8, but nothing serious. Then when I was 12 my English teacher saw how much I read and introduced me to NaNoWriMo, which I've participated in ever since.

So essentially, I was an incredibly inexperienced writer--but avid reader--thrust into this huge project as one of my first serious ones. Which I completed, but like any new writer it wasn't quality. I shudder to think of my wattpad during that time.

Then I'd pretty much abandon all writing until Nano came around again and I'd do the challenge again without a plan, which wasn't high quality. Very all or nothing mindset that didn't help much

To get to where I am now, writing with more confidence, cohesion, and thought, it's been a lot of exposing myself to writing and practicing with consistency. The more you write the more experience you have and the more you learn. It was through writing badly that I learned what my strengths and weaknesses are. For example, I learned if I don't have a direction for my story, even the most vague idea, I'll end up writing in the most random directions that don't help my story at all. I need some idea of where I'm heading.

Advice! I've overexplained everything and this is what helps me, but every writer is different so if you write differently that's entirely okay!

One: You've heard it before, but it's true: writing and reading go hand in hand. Exposing myself to others' writing gave me the sense of what I liked and wanted to do. Remembering that what I read, even if it's professionally published, isn't infallible really turns reading into an educational opportunity.

For example, find a scene from a book you like, or a fanfic, and read it like you're going to edit it. Not just grammar or technicalities, but think of the flow, if the words roll of your tongue, if anything feels repetitive, if the descriptions really bring it to life or if you're left with questions, if it fits the characters, how you'd reword something and why. Be nitpicky. Doing that helps you learn to engage with writing in a way that's critical and constructive. You're viewing it as something moldable and reworking it, which is what you want! It prepares you to engage with your own work like a project and remember that no writing is perfect and everything is crafted and shaped

Two: Write for you. Writing is infinitely easier (but not necessarily easy) when you enjoy it. You are your first audience and the most important one, so you want your story to be one you are genuinely passionate and interested in. For me, this meant monsters and messages about caring, characters who love each other as family all interspersed with fun moments like Sophie saying Jeepers Creepers for some reason

It's fun and rewarding to receive feedback and encouragement, but it shouldn't be the only reason you write. It's vital to learn to love your writing and story on your own because feedback isn't a guarantee. I told myself before I started the wings au that I was writing this for myself, no one else. It would be nice if other people liked it, but they weren't why I was doing it. Which is why I was able to get through it all, because engagement ebbs and flows but my commitment to myself stayed solid.

Three: Leave yourself notes! I cannot tell you how many times I've forgotten things because I assumed I'd remember them. What I like to do is at the end of every writing session, include a few notes to myself about where I'm intending to take the story next and what important details there are. I like to put them in [brackets] so they're easy to find with a word search

Here's an example of one I used in the process of my recent keefitz sick fic: [gets fitz outfit. Complaining about closet mess he made. Silly clothes combo. Gulon bedsheets. Cuddle. Talk. fitz sleep]

This was set right after the shower and was a really simple breakdown of what I wanted to remember. Not everything was used--they don't cuddle, and the outfit isn't super silly, but it gave me what I needed so I wasn't lost when I came back to the story

Four: Don't reread your writing all the time! It's easy to fixate on the moment, but if you keep rereading/focusing on small details you'll get stuck and lose sense of the big picture. I didn't reread any of the wings au chapters until they were done and I could look at it as a big chunk. A lot of the times the problems I thought I saw at the micro level were completely undetectable or not even there when I read it as part of the whole.

Sometimes details will be important, but sometimes you just gotta keep moving! What I'll do it look at the last few sentences and the notes I've left myself and that's it. I don't distract myself going back and rereading things.

Five: For more efficient writing sessions, rely on your future self. When writing you can get stuck trying to get something right. But you'll look at this again in the future, and future you can improve things and help present you out!

You don't have to make the sentence perfect right now, you don't have the find the best word, you don't have to remember that specific fact, you don't have to stop and consult references immediately. Future you can do that!

What I do is leave things in [brackets] for me to rethink or fact check later. An example might be something like this: Sophie kicked up a flurry of pink petals from her carpet [are they pink?]. I've got the detail down, but I don't remember off the top of my head the color of her carpet! The note is a reminder to me later to check that so I don't have to do it in the moment but am confident it will be checked. It's very helpful and I do it literally all the time

Finally, write! The best way to get better at writing is to write. No amount of talk will be better than actually committing and putting words on the page. Be consistent to actually allow yourself to grow. Doesn't have to be a lot, but writing is a skill! I'm still learning and developing myself, and I will never be done learning. Writing is something I will continue to practice and get better at the rest of my life, and I can't wait to see how my writing changes!

Some of it is getting older and more knowledgeable in general--I know more fun words to use in my writing than I did when I was 12. And some of it is practice and learning the art of writing :)

This was a lot of words kinda thrown at you, but hopefully all the explanation helps give context and helps answer your question! I love writing and talking about writing, so I'm always open to conversation on it. I have complete confidence in your abilities and wish you successful writing sessions!

[neteluvr-library]

ANDRA BBY IM SO SORRY FOR THE SPAM AGAIN BUT LIKE....it must be done???? i dont make the rules ): don't mind me cruising through illicit affairs. now it is currently 1 am so if im a little unhinged now so please excuse my thoughts AHAHAHAH

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me. 

ANDRA YOU CHEEKY BASTARD YOU!!!!!!! im gonna have to find every "just you and me" reference now.

You’d recognise this voice anywhere, for the rest of your life, this voice was going to be able to pull you out of the deepest shadows and into the light. You opened your eyes and willed them to focus past the tears, past the blood you could feel on your hands and feet and focus on the blue form talking to you.

SEFEHUGHBKRBJSGJRGBOENGFOBR IM FUCKING CRYING ITS TOO SWEET....but *spoilers for the archer* I LOVE HOW ATAN'S VOICE ALSO PULLED NETEYAM OUT OF HIS COMATOSE DREAMLIKE STATE IN THE ARCHER ): like everything really is a circle for them. they are A CIRCLE FOREVER CONNECTED FOR INFNITY

“Breathe. Take slow, deep breaths, can you do that for me? I need you to give me a sign you can hear me, Atan (light). Please, please.”

THE FIRST ATAN OF MANY??? THE FIRST CHARACTER NAME WE GET FOR Y/N????? not about illicit affairs but MiM...but im really glad Y/N has Vi as her nickname now like after atan and vol, it just didn't seem right that MiM y/n didn't have a name?? what else were we gonna refer to her as? SHE NEEDED A NICKNAME ATAN, VOL, AND VI ARE THE HOLY TRINITY. makes me wonder if y/n in false god will have an iconic nickname 😝

Your new body fit into his like the final piece of the puzzle you were both trying to solve all your lives. 

GGODAMN IT THIS IS TOO GOOD.

He was bawling now, bringing his knees to his chest and settling his head on them. “I feel like my being in her life will kill her.”

OOOF THIS PART!!! This scene is one of the best in illicit affairs because it gives great insight in why neteyam and atan's relationship is so straight. He's very noble in his reasoning and i think its logical. If atan is constantly hurt when he's around, he must be the issue right? WRONG!!!!! like seriously why did he think leaving was the best choice 😭 but also to know he loves her so much he is willing to leave her at the small chance of making her life easier (except it didn't) is so !!!!! (no words--sorry its 1 am). ITS LITERALLY JUST UNFORTUNATE COINCIDENCES AHHHHHHHHHH. i picture neteyam sobbing and heaving and it makes me so sad pls i want to hold him forever and reassure him that NO DO NOT LEAVE ATAN PLEASEEEEEE

“Your dad and I have not said anything until now, because we know. We’ve always known how you felt for her. And we wish that she could have been Na’vi, that this could happen for you, son, but maybe this is a sign from Eywa to look towards the future, to start finding your true mate, one who will not make you feel like this when you are around her. Love is not supposed to hurt, my son.”

OUCH because I actually feel very offended that Neytiri would even suggest that Neteyam's love for Atan is hurting him. Like yes, it is hurting him. But not in a way that's toxic and harmful. I think he just loves Atan so much that it is overwhelming and powerful which would cause him to be emotional and feel everything at a heightened level. Not because its Eywa's sign that his and Atan's love is not good ): ALSO LMFAO AT THE DIFFERENCE IN TPYINH FROM THIS NOTE COMPARED TO THE LAST....you can tell i feel serious when i start using formal punctuation and grammar HAHAAH

You couldn’t take another dream, another anything, so, popping two Xanax pills, you crashed your head into the pillow and hoped for a peaceful blackout. 

This may be controverisal...but i love Atan's drug addiction? NOT because I'm romanticizing it but I think its a very accurate portrayal of what depression can do you and i think it added a level of intensity that you don't see often in literature and fanfics. Like...how many times does the female main character have a drug addiction? I really enjoy the intensity of it because it adds a layer of rawness (I'm sorry I use this word a lot but i think its very applicable to your writing) and depth that i like to see in female characters. NOT ALL WOMEN ARE PRISTINE AND PERFECT AND GRACEFUL like yes we suffer too and sometimes that suffering manifest in less than pretty ways

“Ow, ow, ow!! Kiri, stop that! They were next to my sleeping bag, don’t leave your shit everywhere if you don’t want people to step on it.” 

“NOT PEOPLE, LO’AK. YOU! IT’S ALWAYS YOU!”

HAHAHAH I LOVE THIS ITS SO FUNNY. BEST BROTHER SISTER DUO GOES TO LOAK AND KIRI

You saw it in yourself and your day to day struggle to empty your cup, your mind always looking for meaning, and answers, and ways to fix and analyse and quantify. Always requiring proof, never being able to just be and watch and observe things and beings for what they are, not what they could be.

This is very profound and fitting for human nature. We need to THINK less and SEE more.

He was gone most evenings while you had dinner with his family, and would only come back soon before you made your way to your tent.

This small detail. SOMETHING THAT SEEMS SO inconsequential....BUT IS NOT. i didn't pay attention to this line at first, but on my second read of illicit affairs i caught onto it 😒 you think you're funny planting these small details HUH?!?!??!!?

In it, you were weak, plagued by all your insecurities and fears and nightmares, all of which came out at night.

Same 🥰

“Well, it has a camera sight on the top for better aim and targeting. It has a second grip for better firing stability and has a long barrel that allows for higher muzzler velocity. Like most weapons used by humans, it can also fire 0226-LSAR ammo, and a grande launcher can be attached to the second grip.”

BABY IM SO SORRY I HAVE TO ADMIT THIS BUT...my brain did not process this at all when i first read this. i was like okay cool, BUT THEN YOU SAID YOU DID THE MOST RESEARCH ON GUNS AND I FELT SO BAD FOR NOT APPRECIATING IT. LIKE IT JUST ADDS SO MUCH MORE TO THE STORY AND IM FOREVER IN AWE OF HOW DEDICATED YOU ARE TO WRITING AND YOUR LORE? it didn't compute in my brain that you actually had to research this like ofc you didn't know this info out of your ass?

Jake has tried to be your dad for a long time and you just couldn’t bring yourself to allow that kind of love in your life anymore, not after knowing what it’s like to lose it. 

LET HIM IN YOU BIG DUMBO!!!!!! the truth is, you can crave something so bad (love) while simultaneously driving it away and that's exactly what atan is doing ): ... again same girl same 🥰 i also run away from what i want most bc of my insecurities 🥰

Pushing the knife against his throat, you applied pressure and made a cut. The boy tried his best to recoil, but the men did a better job at keeping him down than you thought they would. You took the knife and placed it on the ground, then took the syringe Lo’ak gave you and hollowed it out.

THIS PART TOO? LIKE YOU HAD TO RESEACH IT AND I WAS LIKE OH OKAY SHE JUST AUTOMATICALLY KNEW HOW TO DESCRIBE A TRACHEOSTOMY?? THATS A LOT OF RESEARCH FOR ONE CHAPTER. just know i appreciate it now!!!!!!

You were an angel. There was so much hurt and darkness in you, but somehow you managed to spread light everywhere you went. No matter how hard life got, you never lost the desire to do good, to be good, and Neteyam didn’t think he could love you any more than he did right at that second. 

WAHHHHH IM GONNA CRY ): NETEYAM ALWAYS THINKS THE SWEETEST MOST ENDEARING THINGS ABOUT ATAN. THAT IS A MAN IN LOVE!!! atan...light...angel...spread light. i aspire to be like atan and i hope i can radiate light like her even tho im struggling mentally AHAHAHA ):

“It was supposed to be done for your birthday, but it took me a lot longer than I thought carving the wood.” 

this is so cute but also the thought of a na'vi sized guitar is hilarious. that shit is a weapon. LITTLE SONGBIRD ATAN ❣️

I have this dream you're doing cool shit

Having adventures on your own

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home

We never painted by the numbers, baby

But we were making it count

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

GIRL FUCK YOU 😭😭 TIOEFJWIGSNINONHJOGOB S I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS????? I LITERALLY DONT REMEBER THE 1 BEING IN ILLICIT AFFAIRS. IM SOBBING BECAUSE I CAN ONLY ASSOCIATE THIS SONG WITH NETEYAM AND VOL NOW GHIHOIBA IM AHHHHHHHHHH it does fit very well in this scene. THE 1 GIVES ME SUCH A GUT REACTION I CANT ITS LIKE A TRIGGER BUT ALSO I LOVE IT SM WHYNWOULD YOU DO THIS ?

You didn’t realise you forgot to put a mask on in your distracted state, and with the hood prepped and ready to go, you removed the blood from the fridge where you kept it while everything you ready and made your way to your work station.

OOP- 😈

this was actually super longjfongnbaIG OKAY ITS ALMOST 2 AM SO IM DEFINITELY GOING TO SLEEP BUT I LOVE THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE ITS THE CATALYST FOR ALL THE SHIT THATS ABOUT TO GO DOWN AND I LIVE FOR THE CHAOS AND ANGST AHHHHHHHH

Illicit Affairs | Chapter V: All Too Well

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Neteyam's life changed when you came into his life the first time, and is now bound to change again, in ways neither of you could have ever predicted.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, cursing, blood, descriptions of surgical procedures, some fluff.

Word Count: 9k words (wow)

A/N: Chapter 5 is coming out a little earlier than expected because I am too excited to wait. We finally get to discover a little more about what Neteyam's gone through and his decision to leave, so super chuffed about that. I am working really hard trying to balance writing for this and being a PhD student, but I am happy with the progress I am making and hope to be done with Chapter 6 in a couple days' time. Things are quickly unfolding, and there is a looot happening in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy <3 I'd love to hear your thoughts x

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did this love affair maim you too?

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” Neteyam ran faster than he knew he could and kneeled next to you. He was panting in heart-stopping fear, watching your shaking form and hearing your pained wails that were opening out so many holes in his chest, the pain was unbearable. He forced himself to try and remember what to do; this wasn’t your first flashback, this wasn’t the first flashback he’s had to walk you through. One, do not touch the person experiencing a PTSD flashback. Done. Two?

“Y/N. It’s me, it’s Neteyam, listen to me. You are with me in the the forest a couple clicks North-west of the village. It’s just you and me, there’s nothing happening to you right now. You’re safe. It’s just you and me.”

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me. 

Everything hurt. You just wanted it over, you wanted everything to be over. You couldn’t hear or see anything around you, except yourself in a past you’d do anything to forget about. 

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me. 

“It’s me. Hey, it’s me. You’re ok. We’re ok. You are with me now, you’re safe. Please come back.”

You’d recognise this voice anywhere, for the rest of your life, this voice was going to be able to pull you out of the deepest shadows and into the light. You opened your eyes and willed them to focus past the tears, past the blood you could feel on your hands and feet and focus on the blue form talking to you.

“Breathe. Take slow, deep breaths, can you do that for me? I need you to give me a sign you can hear me, Atan (light). Please, please.”

You tried your best to do as you were told. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Remembering his request, you nodded almost imperceptibly.

“I’m here. You’re safe. Please come back. It’s just you and me.” 

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me. 

Neteyam… 

You slowly moved your hands, searching, desperately needing the feel of his warmth on you. He knew, he always knew. Without the smallest hesitation, he grabbed both of your hands in his. You looked at him, finally able to see in front of you, see what was real. He was real. Your tears fell freely down your cheeks, and without a second thought, you removed your hands from his and felt your arms reach out for him, for all of him. You hugged him tightly and sighed a breath of relief when he closed whatever space was left between you and held you close. Your new body fit into his like the final piece of the puzzle you were both trying to solve all your lives. 

You didn’t say a word. The world was moving on around you, but not you. You and Neteyam stood there, in the little corner of Pandora that suddenly felt a lot like a safe haven in the storm. 

“You’re ok to get up?” 

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Do you want me to carry you back?”

“No, thank you. I can walk.”

It was too late to continue training and you silently made your way back to the village. You felt embarrassed, and so you walked with your head down the whole way back. You knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about, there was nothing to be ashamed of, and yet, going back on your first day in this new body, having been given a second chance at a new life, you were disappointed that your nightmares didn’t seem to care which version of you they had to go through to resurface. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Neteyam. I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry you always seem to be around when these things happen.” 

If only you knew how sorry he was that he was always around when these things happen.

He couldn’t be sure, but he can guess what triggered your flashbacks. He couldn’t lie and say that day didn’t haunt his dreams, too.

Neteyam made his way back to the village that evening shaking and in tears, and wanted nothing more to take his Ikran far away to a place no one would be able to find him. But alas, he took his bow from the stand in the family tent and slipped out unnoticed while everyone else was having a communal dinner by the bonfire. He walked furiously, still shaking, still crying, until he reached the training grounds he used to go to every day when he was younger. He saw broken arrows on the ground next to some of the targets and felt it was fitting for how he was feeling. Broken, like no amount of care could ever bring him back to the arrow he was currently holding in his hands. He made quick work of the targets he could easily spot, then worked his way through the harder ones until his body ached and his fingers bled from all the now-opened scabs. 

“Ma ‘itan (my son).” He heard a voice break through the shadows of the now fluorescent flora surrounding him. He saw his mum’s steps before he actually saw her, and turned his back to her before she could see him, truly see him.

Neytiri approached him slowly and gently took the bow from his hands. She placed it around her body and placed her arms on her son, one on his back and one on his chest, above his heart. 

“What is the matter, son?” 

“Nothing, mother. I will come home soon, I promise.” 

She reached over and wiped away her son’s tears with her thumb. 

“Please, tell me what happened.” 

Neteyam couldn’t hide anymore when a small guttural cry escaped his lips. His mum slowly moved him away from the practice area and sat him down on the grass, that illuminated under their weight. 

“Mum, I’m killing her.” 

He was bawling now, bringing his knees to his chest and settling his head on them. “I feel like my being in her life will kill her.”

“Y/N?” 

“Every time we are together, something happens to her that breaks her even more. She found her dad, mum. She found her dad’s skeleton racing me through the forest. I almost killed her once because I wanted to get her out and show her the forest, so I almost killed her on my Ikran.”

“Ma ‘itan…”

“She wouldn’t go outside if it wasn’t for me. I push her to go, because I hate seeing her like this, seeing her wasting away in a lab, I just want her to be better, and happy and free, like she used to be when we were kids. I push her to go, and every time it ends up making it worse.”

Neytiri waited for her son to release all the worry plaguing him. Her son kept everything inside, but if you were patient enough with him, he would let you in eventually. 

“Neteyam… you can’t blame yourself for these things. You had no way of knowing how these things would turn out. Yes, it was irresponsible to take her on the Ikran, but you were a child. You wanted to help, and she loved being on it. She told me it was the best thing she had ever done, and that she is grateful that you thought to take her with you. Your strong heart saved both of you from Toruk. I am sorry about what happened today, that must have been really hard on her, but you were just walking trough the forest together. Any other place on Pandora, and this wouldn’t have happened. This was just a horrible misfortune, but it’s not your misfortune to bear.”

Neteyam was crying so hard he felt himself running out of breath. 

“You didn’t see her, mum. I saw her, laying unconscious on the ground. I saw the blood, so much blood I didn’t even think such a small person could carry it. I thought she died. I have nightmares about that night that I will never be able to outgrow. You should have seen her today. She was shaking and screaming and clawing at her feet so hard, she won’t be able to walk for weeks. Why must everything bad in the world must happen to her, mum?”

“We don’t know what Eywa has in store, ma ‘itan. She protects the balance of life, and maybe there is a reason for all this hurt. We can only help her the best way we know how, by loving her and being there for her. We have to hope that that’s enough.” 

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, mum. I don’t think I can watch her suffer anymore. It’s killing me. I love her, mum. I love her so much and there is nothing I want more in the world than to take her hurt and make it go away.”

“Neteyam, I think sometimes it is better to realise a hard truth early than live with a comfortable reality until the cracks in your heart are too deep to ever be able to be mended. Maybe both of you just need some time apart, to grow and heal on your own. I know you love her, Neteyam. But she will never be yours. She’s not one of us, son. You will never be able to be mated. I know you love her, but she is human. So maybe some time apart will allow you to move on, and then you can be there for her, as her friend, as someone who can help her navigate this life whilst living your own.”

“Your dad and I have not said anything until now, because we know. We’ve always known how you felt for her. And we wish that she could have been Na’vi, that this could happen for you, son, but maybe this is a sign from Eywa to look towards the future, to start finding your true mate, one who will not make you feel like this when you are around her. Love is not supposed to hurt, my son.”

He looked over to the girl walking close to him, the girl who was now no longer just a human, but an Avatar, a girl who had a chance to be one of the people one day, but whose demons did not diminish over time at all, and he wondered if they ever will. 

Soon enough, the lights of the village came into view and you were not ready to have to talk to anybody, explain to anybody when there were no words to describe the pain and anguish inside your heart. You wanted sleep, a deep sleep that wouldn’t cease in the morning. 

“How about you just go to your tent for the night? You can catch up with the family tomorrow morning. I will tell them you worked really hard and since this was your first day in a new body, you just need some rest.” 

You let out a big sigh of relief, and nodded silently at Neteyam, grateful and unnerved at his uncanny ability to understand your needs almost better than you were able to understand them yourself.

“Irayo (Thank you).”

Your tent felt cold and uninviting when you entered it, but you couldn’t be bothered to think about it too hard, and, as you let yourself collapse on the mat that would qualify as a bed for the foreseeable future, you thought about all the new challenges that dawn will bring. 

“That’s right, come on back, Ace. That’s it.” 

The light was blinding you, as your eyes adjusted to your newfound environment. You groaned slightly and removed the metal cage trapping you to the linkpod. With heavy legs, you got up and stretched your body as well as you could, trying to ignore the tingling of your limbs as the blood flowed through them properly for the first time in over half a day. 

“So, how was it?” Norm was almost besides himself excited, and you knew you had to lie, because telling him it was one of the hardest, most excruciating days of your life might dampen the current mood. 

“Hard, but a lot of fun! I learnt to ride a Pa’li, and Tsaheylu is unlike anything I have ever experienced. There really is nothing like it in this body that can compare.” 

“Ah, I’m glad to hear it. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I think just more of the same? I’ll start learning how to shoot a bow soon, too. I, for one, think I’ll kick ass at it.” You said, hoping your amused tone and sly comments were enthusiastic enough to be perceived as authentic. 

“I’m sure you will, Ace. You off to bed?”

“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” 

Your human face staring back at you in the mirror looked somewhat better than the muddy, cried-out one you left behind at the village, but that doesn’t mean much when both bodies shared a soul, one that looked much worse than either of them could ever reflect. 

You couldn’t take another dream, another anything, so, popping two Xanax pills, you crashed your head into the pillow and hoped for a peaceful blackout. 

The next day, you were back in your Avatar body before dawn, and made your way towards the Sully tent, dedicated to make this work. It took a while to get the mud off your body at the nearby river, but eventually you thought you looked presentable enough to go ahead with the day. You promised Lo’ak, and Jake, and Norm, and yourself, that you would make this work, or at least give it a good college try. 

“Can I come in?” You remember to speak in Na’vi, and find the family eating breakfast around the fire. 

“Lo’ak you skxawng, you stepped on the herbs I spent all of yesterday collecting.” Kiri was screaming at Lo’ak and hitting him across the arm while he was trying to defend himself as best he could from the continuous onslaught.

“Ow, ow, ow!! Kiri, stop that! They were next to my sleeping bag, don’t leave your shit everywhere if you don’t want people to step on it.” 

“NOT PEOPLE, LO’AK. YOU! IT’S ALWAYS YOU!” 

“Bro, remove your girl before she maims me.” Lo’ak directed his attention to the human boy sitting in the corner, just laughing and enjoying the show.

You couldn’t help laugh at the scene, fondly remembering all the times Lo’ak and Kiri bickered like twins - there was no doubt in your mind these two were made to be siblings. 

Neteyam, sitting in a corner in silence, sharpening his knife, glanced up at you inquisitively. You didn’t like how intimate his gaze felt and with the perspective of a new day, you knew it was a mistake to allow him so close to you yesterday, to allow yourself to touch him and hug him and pull his body close to yours like he was your life support machine. A mistake. You don’t make mistakes. 

“Maite, come, sit, eat.” Neytiri came in and pushed you closer to the fire, placing her hands on your shoulders and forcing you to sit. She gave you fruits and seeds and motioned for you to go ahead. “Tell me how yesterday went! Neteyam told us you are much better at your Pa’li training than their dad ever was.” 

“Hey, I can hear you, you know?” Jake said, taking a break from cleaning a rifle to scowl lovingly at the mother of his children. 

“Well, I can’t speak to Jake’s proficiency, but I think it went well. Great Mother, the Tsaheylu was one of the most incredible experiences of my life, I never knew it was possible for a feeling like that to exist.” 

“Wait til you bond with an Ikran.” Lo’ak interjected. “It’s fucking awesome.” 

“LANGUAGE!” Said Jake at the same time Neytiri sent a hiss in her younger son’s direction. 

You and Neteyam made your way to the archery practice area. There were many people there, most of them accompanying their young kids learning to use a bow and arrow for the first time, learning to one day be able to pull their weight for the sake of the village and their loved ones. You stared in awe at the determination these children had, how unwavering and brightly it shone. It must be nice to be sure of the life ahead of you, be sure of your purpose and your future. 

“Right. Unlike Spider, you have not had any practice with our bows, so we have to go back to basics. There are things you always have to keep in mind when you shoot an arrow, and these things will take time. In time, it will become second nature to you, but practice makes perfect - although true for anything, it is especially true in this case.”

“First, your stance.” 

He removed his bow from around his body and demonstrated. You couldn’t help stare at him, couldn’t help trace your eyes all over his body, that was now fully on display for you, and adjusted your posture to now accommodate for the heat you felt in between your thighs at the sight. Fuck. 

He smirked at you and dropped the stance. “I’m going to need you to focus. Can you do that?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him, an annoyed look crossing you features. “Yes, I can do that. Don’t patronise me.”

He raised his hands, as if relenting, and apologised with a small smile. 

You raised the bow you were holding in your right hand and try to mimic his posture the best you could. He circled you, analysing every aspect of your stance, his gaze pausing on some aspects more than others. 

“Your knees are too straight. You have to bend them a little.” You did as you were told, no questions asked. You trusted he knew what he was talking about more than you’d ever be able to argue him on. 

One of his legs made his way between yours and slightly tugged at one, and you hissed at the contact. “Your feet need to be aligned with your shoulders.”

“Your feet also need to be parallel to the target.” You adjusted your feet slightly, focusing on trying to assimilate everything he was saying. You were nothing if not a good student. 

“Good. Remember, good stance means good posture, means consistent good shots.” 

He was a good teacher, you noted. Calm and patient, he took his time and never talked down to you. He explained well and was attentive to details, and you couldn’t help think this is, once again, proof of Neytiri and the clan’s influence on him. Whereas his two younger siblings were chaotic and a lot more human in their demeanour and behaviour, Neteyam was quiet, focused and determined. A true leader, a true warrior. The perfect son, Lo’ak words ring in your ears. 

He circled you once more, and you noticed your arms were starting to get tired. You didn’t complain, though. You were not going to be weak - couldn’t be weak. 

He placed a hand on your back and the other on one of your shoulders, willing them back in a straight position. Your body buzzed at the contact and you had to suppress a shiver running down your spine. “Your back always has to be straight. Not hunched, but not over-arched, either.” 

He placed both his hands on your hips, and you froze into place. His figure was towering over you, you could feel him, feel his warmth radiating on your back. He kept his distance, so as to not attach himself to you, and gently pulled your hips backwards. Your breath was laboured now, you knew, and let out a silent prayer that he couldn’t hear you, couldn’t hear your heart beat that you were sure was so loud it was noticeable within a 2 click radius. 

“Your hips have to be straight, too. No bending them forwards or backwards.” 

This went on for a while, just a slow torture that you thought was never going to end, until at some point, a few hours later, he finally allowed you to shoot an arrow. The pain you felt in between your shoulder blades and arms was nearing unbearable, but still, you soldiered on. You tried to keep in mind everything he told you all at once, and with a (hopefully) correct stance, posture, grip and bow arm, it was time to work on your release. Your fingers were cramping from holding the bow so tightly in between them, and with a slight whimper, you let go. 

He followed the arrow with his eyes, all the way through the air and past the target, getting stuck on the ground somewhere beyond view. He turned his attention back to you. 

“That was not horrible. Your arm is too low.” he says while gently placing a hand on your arrow-holding arm and moving it upward, furthering the pain you felt in between your shoulder blades. He moved his hand downwards and placed it on your abdomen. You gulped, and saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “Your core is not engaged, Y/N. Take a deep breath.” He waited for you to do as you were told. “Hold like this. Txur nì'ul. Stronger.”He didn’t remove his hand, that damn hand, until he was satisfied with your form, then let go. “Again.”

You spent your days like this, training, running, discovering Pandora’s flora and fauna, not as a scientist, but as a hunter and as an apprentice, with timid curiosity and appreciation for the life in front of you. For the first time in your life, you tried to see beyond the science and really see the miracles happening around you. Neteyam told you something on one of your walks that stuck with you. 

“When you see nothing, you will see everything.”

You see more and more why scientists, why your mother or Grace, or Norm or Max, could never make it here. It wasn’t because of survival, or training, or skill. You saw it in yourself and your day to day struggle to empty your cup, your mind always looking for meaning, and answers, and ways to fix and analyse and quantify. Always requiring proof, never being able to just be and watch and observe things and beings for what they are, not what they could be. This was all so unfamiliar to you, so strange, and you wondered if you were ever going to be able to see. 

After a while, the novelty of you, your alien body and blood ceased to be news to people and you were able to now be in the village without as much attention drawn to you, although the eyes never stopped completely. Not when you were always surrounded by at least one Sully, more often than not the two Sully brothers, the heirs to the Omatikaya rule. There was chatter in the village, you knew, about whether you were ever going to make it as one of the people, and how that would impact the future of the clan. Would they want yet another former Sky Walker as an integral part of their life, as their Tsahik, perhaps? 

The whispers of the people bothered you, but not enough to do anything about it. You knew they were baseless and premature, and had no intention of entertaining them. Lo’ak was your best friend, your brother that you loved and you knew loved you, and whatever other feelings he might have, you knew were just a side effect of hormonal growing pains. Lo’ak would outgrow you in time, and you were there to support him whenever he found a love worth harbouring. Neteyam, on the other hand, was a completely different story. The resentment you felt has never diminished in time, although the ice did melt a little after your fateful first day together. You made no efforts to engage with him outside of practice and he reciprocated the effort (or lack thereof) with the same enthusiasm. He was gone most evenings while you had dinner with his family, and would only come back soon before you made your way to your tent. You didn’t hate each other, but that was about the extent of your relationship. The intensity and heat you felt every time he touched you or looked at you in a certain way has also never diminished in time, but you knew yourself and your body enough to be able to resist him, at least until nighttime, when you were a human again and had a bed to yourself. 

You spent your nights mostly by yourself in the lab, determined to not fall behind on your lab work. You found having to have two completely different approaches to life very difficult, but in time, it was like you became two different people. You don’t think they’d like each other very much. Your life was split in two, and the bodies you inhabited made it easier on you to differentiate between the two halves. Your human body was weak, progressively weaker as time went on and you forsook the time to exercise it. In it, you were weak, plagued by all your insecurities and fears and nightmares, all of which came out at night. Your Avatar body was strong, progressively stronger with every day you spent running and training in the forest. In it, you were strong. A warrior, proud and determined and eager to learn. You laughed, and danced, and made conversation and learnt how to craft your own necklaces with Kiri whenever training with Neteyam got too much. You took Lo’ak by the hands and dragged him through the forest, laughing and swinging through trees. You took to Mo’at and tried to learn the healing ways of the Tsahik, as opposed to your mother’s medical training. Life was heaven in one body and hell in the other, and you couldn't tell which one haunted you more.

“Again.” Neteyam spoke over the voices of kids practising their target practice next to them. He had to admit to himself he was impressed with your progress. He knew he shouldn’t be, you were the most impressive and stubborn person he had ever met. He used to watch you patch and suture the Avatars in the lab when you were 13. They said your stitches were the best amongst the remaining humans. He watched you go from a child to a woman who seemed to know everything there was to know about everything. He didn’t know why he didn’t realise before this was going to be the same. You were irksome. 

You shot another bullseye and turned around to face him, smiling cockily and did a curtsy, he thought it was called. He rolled his eyes, but smiled at your satisfaction. 

“You can keep me here all day, I’ll just keep doing it, if not for anything else, just to spite you.” 

“Fine, we’re done. You are dismissed.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, in that way you always did, that way that drove him fucking crazy. Being next to you every day was driving him crazy. He didn’t know what hell he must have inflicted on a past life to warrant this. Always watching you, and knowing that stolen glances will always have to be enough. 

You started making your way back towards the village, and he followed you. It was such a stark contrast to your first day in this body. You looked confident, and happy. He wondered if it was real, if it was possible that it was indeed that easy, and being here, outside with them was enough to wash your nightmares away, to heal you. He felt a flicker of hope raising in his chest. Stop, Neteyam. What the fuck are you doing?

The village was quiet at this time of day, most people gone on hunts or rides or training. Neteyam heard his dad’s voice booming in the family tent and knew Lo’ak was in deep shit again. He sighed. Baby brother, why do you always have to make things so hard?

“Dammit, Lo’ak, we went through this for a month. A whole ass month. What is this called?” 

When you and Neteyam entered the tent, you found the two Sullys sitting on the ground, with the patriarch towering over Lo’ak with a gun in his hand. 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

“I don’t want to hear that. Do you fucking understand what we’re doing here? Do you understand the humans could be back any fucking day now? War is coming, do you understand this, boy? And you will straighten up, Lo’ak, or I swear to God you will not be allowed to ride an Ikran again for the rest of your life.” 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” 

Neteyam felt you wince at his dad’s words, and he knew you felt bad for his brother. He did so, too. But also understood that his dad is only trying to make sure they are ready for the time they will inevitably have to go to war. He can’t imagine the pressure on his shoulders at training his own kids to be prepared to avoid their own death and bring death upon others.

“Now, we went through this multiple times. What is this gun?”

He felt the silence bearing down on him, and then heard your voice raise above it.

“It’s a M69-AR, sir. It’s a machine-gun.” 

All eyes in the room snapped shocked to you. You shifted uncomfortably in place, but your gaze did not falter from where you were looking at Jake.

“How do you know that?”

You looked down at the ground, and hesitated before speaking again. 

“I have trained with guns I have found over time for a few years, sir. My dad and the other soldiers in the unit left manuals, training videos, ammo in the lockers. I have found it and learnt about it. I never expected to get an Avatar, but I did not want to be defenceless.”

Neteyam saw his dad and realised he can’t tell what he was thinking at the moment. A mixture of fear, confusion and awe was what he was able to spot. 

“Alright… what’s the caliber of this gun, kid?” 

“.50 caliber BAT.”

“Ok, walk me through the gun’s characteristics.”

You didn’t flinch under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Well, it has a camera sight on the top for better aim and targeting. It has a second grip for better firing stability and has a long barrel that allows for higher muzzler velocity. Like most weapons used by humans, it can also fire 0226-LSAR ammo, and a grande launcher can be attached to the second grip.”

Lo’ak’s face dropped, and although he had better control over his emotions, Neteyam realised he was also staring at her with a similar expression plastered on his face. 

“Did you ever shoot it?”

“No, I haven’t. I only shoot a standard 8mm handgun, in the woods next to the lab whenever everyone’s preoccupied or out. But I know how to clean it, field-strip it and load it.”

“So nobody knows you’ve been training on guns for years?”

“No, Sir.” 

“I can’t describe to you how stupid and dangerous this was. I didn’t think you of all people were prone to life-threatening idiocy.” 

You felt your gaze harden under his scrutiny and the familiar feel of anger bubbling in your stomach. 

“I’m not a little girl anymore. I will not stand and watch as the humans come back and ruin everything my mother’s fought for and I will not apologise for it.”

You saw Jake stand up, straighten his back and for the first time in your life, you feared the man sitting in front of you.

“Don’t you dare bring your mother into this. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to put your life in danger carelessly, getting involved in things you know nothing about. She asked me to take care of you, to teach you. All you had to do was fucking ask. All you had to do is come out of that damn lab and allow us to be part of your life, the way we have wanted to be for years.” 

You felt tears pricking at your eyes and without another word, you turned on your heels and left. 

You entered your tent and closed the flap shut as well as you could, half-considering using one of the suture kits that now resided in it to sew it together so no one can open it. You fell on your sleeping mat with a huff, and took hold of one of the books you have brought to your tent in the couple months you have been here. Your gaze stopped on one of your favourite poems, and repeated the lines to yourself, like a litany needing to be uttered.

“I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

How free it is, you have no idea how free——

The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,

And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.

It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them   

Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.”

You stared at the page for a long time, and let your mind wander. Why would he talk to you this way?

Because he cares about you. 

You thought he would be happy, proud of you for being strong, being independent and self-sufficient. You took care of yourself, you would be able to take care of others, of the people you loved. 

But maybe he doesn’t think you should have to do this by yourself. 

Why should you be ashamed of that? Ho doesn’t understand you, never tried to see things from your perspective. 

Maybe cause you never allowed him to know you enough to be able to understand.

He’s not your dad. He has no right to talk to you this way.

He wanted to be your dad, you just always kept him at arm’s length. You’ve always kept everyone at arms length.

You wanted to slap the version of yourself talking back to you. You really are such an annoying person, sometimes. And you hate that you make sense when you didn’t want to make sense. You wanted to be mad and tell him to keep his bossing around to his own children and leave you be, but you couldn’t. Not when the annoying you was right - Jake has tried to be your dad for a long time and you just couldn’t bring yourself to allow that kind of love in your life anymore, not after knowing what it’s like to lose it. 

A scream coming from the village pulled you out of your train of thought, and you made your way outside in a hurry. 

“Help! Help!!” 

You recognised the voice; Ewoaì, one of the most talented hunters of the village, was running holding a motionless body in his arms. His young brother, you noted. 

“He can’t breathe, he stopped breathing. Please, someone help! Where is the Tsahik?” 

Jake and the Sully boys emerged from inside their tent with a concerned look on all their faces. Neteyam spoke. “The Tsahik and tsakarem are away, at the Tree of Souls. They will not make it back in time.” 

Fuck, you thought. 

“Bring him here, NOW.” You spoke over the commotion. All the people who had gathered to see what was happening turned their gazes to you. Ewoaì ran to you. “Place him on the ground.” 

“Lo’ak.” You looked at the young boy, trying to assess the situation the best you could. You heard Lo’ak make his way towards you. 

“In my tent, there is gauze and disinfectant, it has the name 2% chlorhexidine isopropanol, find it and bring it. There should also be a yellow injection that says EPIPEN on it. Bring a syringe as well, no needle. Hurry.” 

You turned your attention to the man holding his younger brother in his arms. “Remove his necklace, now.” 

You started to check for signs of what was causing his asphyxiation. You opened his mouth and looked inside the best you could for food, or anything else that could be blocking his airways. You didn’t see anything. He didn’t seem to be having an anaphylactic shock; no rash and his heartbeat seemed strong. You were going to have to figure out the cause at a later time, but for now, your best bet, his best bet, was a tracheotomy. 

Lo’ak scrambled out of your tent, almost dropping some of the things on the way. He put them next to you in a hurry. 

You removed your hands from the boy’s body and moved quickly to apply some of the antiseptic on the gauze and wipe his throat with it. You got up, removed your knife from the holder on your chest, and made your way towards the nearest fire. You placed the blade over the fire and hoped that would do enough to sterilise it. For good measure, you also wiped it with the solution currently still on the gauze.

You made your way back to the boy and lifted your gaze to his brother. 

“This is going to hurt. I don’t have the tools to put him to sleep. I need you to hold him tightly by the arms. I need you to be strong for him. Strong heart. Neteyam, hold his feet. Don’t let go.”

You took your knife with one hand, whilst your other hand, tried to find the cricothyroid membrane, hoping it would be in a similar location to a human’s. Pushing the knife against his throat, you applied pressure and made a cut. The boy tried his best to recoil, but the men did a better job at keeping him down than you thought they would. You took the knife and placed it on the ground, then took the syringe Lo’ak gave you and hollowed it out. Carefully, you placed it inside the hole you made. You lowered your body and placed your mouth on the syringe. Sucking on it, you were relieved to feel air coming out, and you started breathing into the tube until you felt the boy starting to breathe again on his own. You removed yourself from his proximity and monitored until you were sure his breathing was stabilised. 

You let out a huge sigh of relief. You finally felt like you could look Ewoaì in the eye. “He’ll be fine.” 

His brother let out a shaky breath and extended his hand in front of you. Smiling softly, you took it in your own and felt his grip tighten at the contact. 

“Thank you. You saved his life. Thank you.”

“You can take him home. I’ll come by later and check on him, and if he’s breathing right, I’ll take it out.” 

You rose from the ground and tried to get your laboured breath to slow down. You did it. Tears started pooling in your eyes and you realise your hands were shaking when you went to wipe the them before they fell. Your attention turned to the Sully men waiting by your side. They all looked like they were -

-in awe. Neteyam was in awe. You were breathtaking. He heard this English word, angel, from his dad, a long time ago, and when he asked what it meant, his dad told him it was someone pure and good, who helps others and brings comfort in times of hurt…someone whose light can illuminate the darkest times. He didn’t know what that meant until he met you. You were an angel. There was so much hurt and darkness in you, but somehow you managed to spread light everywhere you went. No matter how hard life got, you never lost the desire to do good, to be good, and Neteyam didn’t think he could love you any more than he did right at that second. 

You gave him a quick look and he could see the fear in your eyes and the unshed tears, and the trembling hands. You were scared. Before he could move a muscle, Lo’ak took you and encircled his arms around you in a bear hug. You stood there in shock for a second while it registered, then slowly brought your hands up to his back to reciprocate the hug. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your head in his neck, and Neteyam moved his gaze to his feet, feeling the now all-too-familiar darkness of jealousy spread through him like poisonous gas. 

Eventually, Lo’ak let you go, and you moved closer to Jake. You were trying to meet his eyes, but he could tell you were scared… or ashamed. He saw you take a big breath and swallow audibly. 

“Jake, I am…”

“I know, Kid.” Neteyam was surprised to see his dad’s gaze, so angry and unflinching just 30 minutes ago, soften when his eyes looked at you. It was his turn now to hug you.

“You did good, kid.” 

You let out a soft cry and he saw the tears fall freely from your face. You smiled, and for the first time since you were back in his life, saw that you looked actually content. 

“Come.” Jake released you from the hug and made his way towards his tent. You followed suit and saw him picking up a gun from the floor and pointing at another. It was a standard assault rifle and you kneeled down next to it.

“Put it back together.” You did as you were told, skilfully putting each component of the weapon in its place. Before you moved on, you made sure everything was in order, and then you picked the appropriate 6.2x35mm 80-round magazine from the mix that was on the floor. You attached the magazine and took two more of them and placed them on your person. 

“Good. Let’s go.”

You and the three Sullys walked steadily for a while. Lo’ak and Jake went ahead while you and Neteyam stood back. He was close to you, too close, and you felt his right hand almost brushing yours. You looked up at him, and saw he was already watching you. His expression instantly sent shivers down your spine - it reminded you of how he used to look at you before. It was intense and soft and loving. You saw his eyes dropping to your lips, which parted in response and felt so exposed, so vulnerable… so fucking mad. He did not get to do this. He did not get to give up on you are like were a bad drug and then come back and give you this look. 

You expression hardened and you removed your eyes from his and stared at Jake’s back, which was all of a sudden a lot more interesting than it had been 5 seconds ago. You crossed your arms over your chest and walked in silence the rest of the way. 

You reached the spot soon after, and you noticed it was a similar training area, like the archery one, but this one had targets made of shrubbery that resembled a person, which had remnants of bullet holes in them. I see…

“Ok, kid, let’s see what you can do. Shoot the target in front of you, head and chest.” 

You took a big gulp and positioned your body. This was a lot of pressure, with the eyes of Toruk Makto and his heirs staring right at you. You took one last look at the weapon, then loaded it. You aim, then shoot. The gun surprises you a little, as you find the recoil a lot stronger than the handgun you usually practice on and the fire rate unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Still, you adjust fairly quickly, then try again. Within 3 tries, you were able to hit the target exactly where Jake asked you to, and as to not waste any more ammo, you stop. 

Lo’ak is ululating and clapping, so happy for you, even though he was probably going to get in trouble for not being a better shooter than a girl who spent her whole life in a lab. He didn’t care. He loved seeing you do well, seeing you adapt. He couldn’t wait for the day you two would go on Ikran rides together and he could show you all the beauty of this world, the way you deserved.  

“I see. Neteyam, from now on, I want you both at gun practice and lessons, do you copy? She can learn everything else in the spare time, but I want her there. She’s way too good to waste on Pa’li training.”

“Yes, sir.” 

In the evening, you went by Ewoaì’s tent and checked on his younger brother. His airways were clear again so you were able to remove the syringe and stitch up the tracheotomy incision you performed earlier. You sat with them whilst inspecting the child’s condition. He wasn’t well. He had a fever and intermittent shortness-of-breath. His abdomen was in pain and he had a laceration forming on one of his calves. You made a note to bring some more supplies from the lab, and with that, took your leave. 

Dinner was pleasant, you ate with the Sullys in their tent, as you do most nights these days, and enjoyed the conversation that did not include you. It was nice to just be around their family and experiencing their tight-knit unit up close. There was laughter, and bickering, and animated discussions about what went on and what’s to come. Jake told Neytiri, Moat, Kiri and Tuk about Ewoaì and his brother, about the guns and the target practice, and they all looked at you with admiration. You blushed and thanked them, deciding the floor was particularly interesting tonight. 

“I think Y/N should sing for us! I haven’t heard her beautiful voice in such a long time!” Said Neytiri, smiling fondly

“Oh, I don’t have my guitar!”

You saw Neteyam’s eyes go wide, a rare sight for a man who prides himself on his composure. He stood up from his place around the fire pit, and went to a part of the tent that had a hidden nook in it; you’ve never seen what was there, but assumed there lay the family trinkets, Jake’s guns, clothes, etc. Neteyam came out from behind it holding… a guitar, you realised in shock. A big guitar, that would fit your new hands perfectly. Too stunned to speak, you just looked at him with your mouth agape, and he laughed at your expression. 

“This was supposed to go slightly differently, but alas, it’s as good a time as any to give this to you.” 

“It was supposed to be done for your birthday, but it took me a lot longer than I thought carving the wood.” 

Your eyes flickered between him and the guitar, and then turned to look at Kiri, who had a big smile and waited expectantly for your response.

“…you made this?”

“Well, me and Norm.” He looked almost bashful, and he reminded you so much of young Neteyam that your heart ached and you hoped you could prolong this moment forever. 

“He helped me with the design and the metal work, I had to hunt a few good animals to get the gut for the strings, but I think it turned out alright! He tried it and tuned it and it seemed to sound good, but I guess we’ll see when you play it.” 

You were still unsure what to say, unsure how to speak or form words or thoughts. 

“Neteyam, I don’t know what to say…”

“Say you’ll accept it? And that you’ll forgive me for what I said on your birthday? I really am a kurkung (asshole) sometimes, and I am sorry.” 

You nodded almost imperceptibly. His face broke out into a smile, a stupidly handsome smile that stopped your world and shifted it on its axis and you knew, you knew he was doing it, the impossible, he was getting you to forgive him, to forget the hurt and pain he put you through. And you hated yourself for being weak, but you also just allowed yourself a second, just a second to remember what it was like to have him in your life, have him radiate his warmth like he was the sun your soul orbited around.

“Will you sing now?” asked Tuk innocently, and you had to concede.

You toiled for a while with ideas of what song to pick. There was only one that came to mind in this exact moment, thinking of the man you still loved so much, loved as much as you did when you were 10 and he brought you the bracelet, at 13 when he took you on your very own magic carpet ride, at 16 when he held you while you cried in his arms after your dad, and every day in between, the man you needed like air, like that damn oxygen pack you hated, whose touch made you come alive and set your mind ablaze. 

You picked up the guitar and tuned the chords, slowly caressing them to get the sound just right. It was perfect, much better than the guitar you had at home. It was perfect. You started strumming a familiar song, that you never sang to them, to him, before, that you sang to yourself in that year apart and you wanted him to hear it, wanted him to know.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit

Having adventures on your own

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home

We never painted by the numbers, baby

But we were making it count

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

You looked at him, and sang to him. He looked sad, like it was hurting him to watch you, hear you again. You used to play just for him all the time, singing feelings you never had the guts to say out loud, and here you were again, confessing something probably better left unsaid.

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family

And it would've been sweet

If it could've been me

In my defence, I have none

For digging up the grave another time

But it would've been fun

If you would've been the one

You finished the song and heard clapping from all around you and knew you had to acknowledge the others eventually. With a last look at Neteyam, you turned around and smiled and did a little hand curtsy as a joke. 

It was a good night.

You made your way to your tent quite late that night and you saw Lo’ak waving at you until you entered, placing your new guitar slowly on the ground. You lay down and tried your very best to fall asleep, which you felt was impossible, considering you were still reeling after the day you had. Eventually, sleep came, and you woke up back in the linkpod, with Norm’s face coming into focus slowly.

“Hey, Ace. How was your day?”

“Eventful, to say the least. One of the kids in the village needed an emergency tracheotomy. Thank God I had some supplies in the tent, which reminds me - I need to prepare more that I will come to pick up tomorrow, or you can drop to my tent if you make your way to the village.”

“Jesus. What the hell happened?”

“I think it’s this damn virus, Norm. I monitored the kid for an hour in the evening, his airways cleared, but he still had shortness of breath, a fever, gastrointestinal symptoms, and this weird laceration on his calf. His brother’s not sick, so the virus is not transmitted through air - at least I hope not, considering I shared the air in the tent with the guy for a while.” 

“Fuck. I will go check on him tomorrow and maybe take some blood. You can run some tests if you want to and have the time.” 

“I have some blood from someone else with similar symptoms. I will run the tests tonight, can’t really sleep anyway.”

“Ok, be careful, alright? This is not a joking matter, especially to us.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.”

You changed in some clothes better suited for a night working in the lab, put on your goggles, lab coat and gloves, and got to work. You were half paying attention to prepping the laminar flow hood and half thinking of the crazy day you had, thinking of Neteyam and his smile and his apology and ugh, you hated him. 

You didn’t realise you forgot to put a mask on in your distracted state, and with the hood prepped and ready to go, you removed the blood from the fridge where you kept it while everything you ready and made your way to your work station.

In a second, everything changed. That’s all it took, a second for your whole life to completely turn upside down, yet again. It always only took a second. A second for your mum to take her last breath, a second for you to fall off an Ikran, a second to step on your dad’s remains, a second to lose the love of your life, a second to watch the vial drop and shatter all over the floor, splattering blood all over your body and on your face, in your open mouth that screamed in shock at the instant loss of a future. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi

[serendipitous-magic]

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

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

-_-_-_-

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

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

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

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

However, here are the rules you must follow:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s how I cheat that:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You won’t.

Write it down.

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

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

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

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

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

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

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_-_

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

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

_-_

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

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

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

Here are the things you must know about your character:

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

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

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

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

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-_-

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

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

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

What do I mean by that?

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

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

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

[perkynurples]

How does one begin writing, particularly a fanfic? Do you have most of the story already written before you begin posting chapters? How do you find someone to help read/edit what you write?

I’ve read so many of the OFMD fanfics, and yours have blown me away. I’ve got the seeds of a story in my mind, but no clue whether I have the ability to make it into something actually resembling a story - particularly one worth reading. I would love to know if you have any tips or resources!!

hi! so uh. this is a loaded question, but first things first, let me talk a little bit about the gardener vs. architect approach to writing. a gardener is someone who simply plants the seeds and waits for something to grow out of them - you might have a vague idea, you might even want to see a certain result, but you don't always end up with what you started with. the flowers might turn out a different color, some might die, some new unexpected ones might grow. the resulting garden will be beautiful either way. in other words, the story WILL happen somehow, but who's to say how it's gonna look exactly?

the architect, on the other hand, lays down a blueprint. you don't start building a house until you've got everything figured out perfectly. you don't start writing a story until you've got heaps of notes, until you know the scenes you want to lay down, until you plan for every contingency.

I myself am firmly the former. all my biggest longfics, and aftercare is no exception, started with a vague idea, oh hey this might be cool, and then grew and grew and grew from there until I had to take some hedge trimmers to them (only I never did. letting my stories get out of hand is like my trademark at this point).

to that effect, I don't do a whole lot of editing, aside from the perfunctory grammar and flow stuff. my notes are a jumbled mess that I keep adding onto as the story grows. I haven't had a beta in years, because hell, I hardly know where the story's going, how's someone else gonna pick up on anything?? I kid, I kid. finding a good beta can be good for solving that age-old issue of does this story even make sense to someone who isn't me.

the one thing I always, always, always have is an ending. it usually comes to me within the first few chapters, sometimes at the very beginning of the story, and it gives me something to strive towards.

so anyway, I'd try to figure out what works for you, first. do you need to do a lot of planning, or do you want to just wing it? try it out. when it comes to putting the actual words down, it's... I suspect the process is different for everybody. some days, it flows so easily, some days, it's like pulling teeth. a great, grand book on this subject is called bird by bird by anne lamott - it describes the process of taking really really small steps to achieve great things, so in our world, writing a tiny little bit to write something big. the author also has so many great insights on writing in general, big big big rec.

this got wordy, because, again, a gardener writer over here, but I hope it provided some measure of an answer to your questions. best of luck with your writing! writing ten words a day counts! or a thousand! or just your notes that don't make sense to anyone else but you! the actual story is just the finished product after hours and hours of writing work that never sees the light of day! good luck!

[winterhawk-olympic-bang]

How To Edit Your Writing

Guest Poster: Chronicwhimsy

Here is our final Writer Workshop post, written by Chronicwhimsy. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

Editing: a drive-by guide

Hi, my name is Claire, and I’m an editor.

(Hi Claire)

I’ve been asked to give a quick guide on tips for editing your stories, as I’ve been a beta/editor for various fanfic writers over the years. I’m a professional editor, working for a publishing house in the UK, and I offer independent freelance editing too, via my website. I’ll be on the Discord server answering questions this evening, but I’m also happy to chat to people either through my website or even if you wanted to drop me a line on tumblr.

The key thing to remember about editing is that the end goal is to make your story the best it can be, and make sure your initial idea comes across as clearly and purely as you first imagined it. It’s about ensuring that the lines of communication between you and your reader are 100% open.

To do that, you need to have finished your story, because you can’t fix something that doesn’t exist.

Then you edit.

What now?

So, you’ve finished your Winterhawk Olympic Bang Fic, and you’re wondering what to do next?

The very first, and most important thing you should do? Celebrate. I mean congratulate the hell out of yourself, pat yourself on the back, and have some cake. Finishing stories is hard. Getting through a first draft is one of the trickiest parts of writing, so you should be proud of yourself, and proud of your story.

Because in a short while, editing is going to make you hate both.

I mean that in the nicest possible way of course, but you absolutely are going to be thoroughly sick of this whole thing by the time you’re done, and you’re going to question everything you’ve ever written. You’re going to get a close-up view of all your narrative bad habits which will make you think you’ve never had any skill at all, and you’re going to re-read your work so many times that it’ll feel trite, old, uninspired. This is normal and it is your brain lying to you. If you remember nothing else, remember that!

“The writing itself is no big deal. The editing, and even more than that, the self-doubt, is excruciatingly impossible.” Jonathan Safran Foer

Don’t lose faith! Editors and editing exist for a reason, no first draft is perfect. You’ve done something amazing in finishing, and now you’re going to make it incredible.

Before You Start - Take a Break

You know the phrase “can’t see the wood for the trees”? It could just as easily be “can’t see the story for the words.” It’s never recommended to go straight into editing as soon as you finish writing, and part of the reason for that is because you’re too deep in the story to be able to assess it objectively, or to catch things that are missed out because you know they’re there, but the reader wouldn’t.

“Once it's done, put it away until you can read it with new eyes. When you're ready, pick it up and read it, as if you've never read it before.” Neil Gaiman

Most writers and editors advocate putting a story away for a month or so before returning to edit, so you’re looking at it with fresh eyes. Obviously, with a Big Bang (or other fic event) this sort of time is usually at a premium! Try and make as much space as you can while still leaving yourself time to edit.

If you really don’t have any time, one trick that can help is changing your location. If you write in your room, can you relocate to your kitchen? Or a café (if you can safely)? Could you print it out? (Printing Top Tip: if you do print it, try and do it double-spaced - this makes it easier on the eyes, and gives you room to make notes. Also, serif fonts can often be easier to read than sans serif fonts, as it gives stronger distinctions between different letters.)

The Filter System

I like to think of the editing process as a series of different filters which, when used one after the other, produce a finely-sieved finished product. Each filter stage has slightly smaller holes than the one before it, as you look increasingly closely at your work.

Filter 1: Structural editing

Does the story make sense? Is the pace okay? Do all the scenes work where they are, or would they be better elsewhere? Do some scenes need to be there at all? Is the characterisation consistent? Does anyone change names halfway through? Did you forget what time of year it was set halfway through?

Filter 2: Line editing

Is this phrase as tight as it could be? Have you repeated yourself anywhere? Does this sentence add anything or does it throw the pace off? Have you gone overboard with adjectives and similes? Have you been too sparse with them?

Filter 3: Copy editing

Is your style consistent? Did you start writing in present tense and switch to past tense? Could this scene transition be snappier? Are there any bits that you want to tidy up? Have you left any half-finished sentences because you got distracted before you could end it?

Filter 4: Proofreading

Is everything spelled correctly? Have you caught all the strange grammar mistakes?

Some of these things might be picked up by your beta reader if you have one. Different beta readers have different styles, and also they will work based on their relationship with you and what you prefer. Some may stick to proofreading and consistency-checking, others may be more confident to dive right in and look at structure, pacing and characterisation. Some may work through the process with you as you write, others may only look at the story when it’s complete so they can get a full overview. There is no right or wrong answer, and having a conversation with your beta about your respective styles at the start can help you work better together!

Filter 1 - Structural Editing

For this stage, you want to read your whole story through from start to finish, and resist the urge to tweak anything to begin with! You will want a way of making notes as you go through because as you do, you’ll make yourself a cheat-sheet to help you with your line edit. Things to keep track of:

Character name spellings

Character ages

Character relationships (drawing a relationship web can be very helpful to visualise this!)

The time span of the story - the date it starts, the date it ends.

As a subset of this, I find it can be very helpful to set up a spreadsheet with a timeline of what happens in the story, and who is involved. Doing this both chronologically for the characters and in order of how it happens in the story can help you keep track of what characters know when, and also when the readers find out certain information. You might have one of these from when you were planning your story (as detailed in Sara Holmes’ workshop). If you’ve kept it up to date with changes to the plot and structure as you’ve written, this will be super helpful.

At this stage, you’re looking to see if everything works as a consistent story. You want to check to see if it feels like it’s the right pace, or if there are bits where it drags or rushes through the action. Why is this? Are there scenes which aren’t adding anything to the progress? Could they just be referred to in passing, or removed entirely without impacting the story? Are there other scenes which need to be added to provide more detail and growth? Is there anything that you as a writer know that is essential to the story, but you forgot to actually put in the text?

“Crafty writers...don't allow Exposition to form Lumps. They break up the information, grind it fine, and make it into bricks to build the story with.” Ursula K. Le Guin

You’re also looking to see if the characters feel true to themselves all the way through. Do the relationships spark? Do they sound like themselves? Can you hear them in your head?

Some people recommend doing several structural edits, with a different focus each time. One pass to look at the pacing, one pass to look at the characters, one to look at the story arc. You’ll work out what floats your boat, but you will be re-reading this story a lot of times before you’re done editing - which is why it’s very important to write what you love and want to read! You’ll go through many stages of hating this story before you let it go, and that will be even harder if it wasn’t something you enjoyed in the first place.

Filter 2 - Line Editing

So you remember I told you to make all those notes during your structural edit? Here’s where you’re going to use them. Now’s the time to go through your story line by line and check that the details in your cheat sheet are correct all the way through the story. I’ve written a novel that I initially set in November, but by the time I finished it, I’d decided it was taking place in early May. I had to go back and fix all the dates and weather descriptions to make sure the action hadn’t actually been yeeted forward six months spontaneously in the middle of a conversation.

Arguably, the line edit will be the most painful part of editing. At this stage, you will be taking a fine-tooth comb to everything you have written, examining it to within an inch of its life, and casting judgement. You’re going to find every stylistic tic you have (for me, everyone is constantly quirking their eyebrows and smirking like they’ve got cramp in their facial muscles), and you’re going to get rid of them (a person only has so many eyebrows, and they can only quirk so far). Now is the time to kill your darlings - don’t hang on to anything unless you feel it’s really doing a job to further the story and the characters.

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler's heart, kill your darlings.” Stephen King

If you have ever worried about the unbearable sensation of being Known, the line edit is where you will experience that with every word, and you’ll be doing it to yourself. This is when the doubts will really start to creep in and you will maybe feel like everything you write is unoriginal, derivative trash and unfit for human eyes.

Here I’ll reiterate what I said above:

This is a normal feeling, everyone experiences it when editing. E V E R Y O N E.

It’s a lie. No-one else will ever read your story in this state, no-one else will ever read your story this closely. Of course it feels obvious and uninspired to you - you wrote it. It’s your idea, and you’ve read it several times, it holds no surprises for you. (I may be projecting my feelings from every time I’ve edited something here, but…)

You’ll also be catching any ELEPHANTS or whatever your mammal of choice for placeholder text is that you’ve stationed throughout the story as a flag for you to come back and add in a name, or a food, or a song title later. You know, the things you decided were a problem for Future!You. I have bad news, the future is now.

Top Tip: if you have changed someone’s name halfway through, DON’T for the love of Mike, just do a straight find and replace to correct it. Because that’s when you suddenly find out how many other words actually contain names (Mark became Bill? That’s great, until your characters are going to the superBillet to buy groceries). Some word processing programmes have a “whole word” option which is your friend, otherwise ensure to put spaces either side of the word when you search. If you don’t, you’ve just made another horrible job for yourself...

Filter 3 - Copy Editing

Once you’ve made it out the other side of the Line Edit (and given yourself a nice treat to congratulate yourself because that stage is HARD), we get onto copy editing. This is basically the set-dressing stage. You’ve built the house, you’ve decorated the room, and now you’re just making sure every bit of furniture is in the right place for optimal feng shui.

Here’s where you go through and go, do I really need a dash here, or could I just use a comma? Could I use fewer commas? Could I go in and move all of @kangofu_cb’s commas around because I’m the sort of person who will come into your house and change how you hang your toilet paper or where you keep your ketchup.

Now is the time to be as picky as possible, like you’re an interior designer for the most demanding client in the world and the ornament must be exactly equidistant from both ends of the mantlepiece and facing precisely south-west. Things that may have just survived your line edit will be measured again, and if they’re found wanting, then they get binned.

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very’; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” Mark Twain

Another thing you might like to do here is check that all your features and things are correct. Did you make a wild claim about the lifecycle of salamanders, or the average price of corn and then never go back to verify this? Take a second to just do that now. It may be that you decide it’s not a problem (I received one copy edit note saying that an idiom used in a book wasn’t recorded until 200 years later, and I made the editorial decision that no-one would care), but for bigger things you may want to make sure you’re accurate.

If you google it (as I just did, to make sure I was definitely giving you the right information), copy editing is often conflated with line editing, and that’s because in reality a lot of the elements of copy editing actually wouldn’t usually be done by the author, and are probably irrelevant to fanfic. The copy editor is responsible for ensuring the book has a consistent grammatical style in line with the preferences of the publisher (em-dash or en-dash, curly quote marks or straight ones, how you deal with acronyms, what needs to be italicised, etc. etc.), which isn’t necessarily required for fanfic. In reality, for fanfic I’d use this stage as a second, lighter line-edit to see where things can be tightened up in phrasing, as well as perhaps a preliminary proofread where you start to mark up any spelling errors.

Filter 4 - Proofreading

By this stage, you’ll be exhausted, and sick to death of the blasted thing. But the end is in sight! Now you’re onto the proofread. This is another close read, where you go through and check for spelling errors, typos, missing full stops, strange formatting stuff (which probably will be less of an issue as AO3 basically makes everything uniform anyway).

Before you even start this, change your font.

We’ve all been there, thought we’d caught every spelling error, every weird typo, only to spot six immediately after posting. That’s because after a certain point our brain becomes used to the font we’ve written in, and will automatically correct things that aren’t right. AO3 has its own unique formatting - colour, spacing, font - and the minute your fic appears on there in this new format you brain wakes up and is like “oh shit, yeah, that’s not how it should be.”

By changing the font before you proofread, you preempt this step.

Another thing to remember: it’s unlikely you will ever catch every mistake. Published books regularly go out with a smattering of typographical errors throughout the text - how many first editions of books are valuable because of misspellings that slipped through the net? You’re only human.

“Connie's other job was proof-editing which she did very badly. Transferring the author's corrections to a clean sheet of proofs was something Connie was unable to do without missing an average of three corrections a page, or transcribing newly inserted material all wrong... she put angry authors' letters about the mutilation of their books under the cushion of her chair to deal with later.” Muriel Spark, A Far Cry from Kensington

Often, spelling errors and things you would look for in a proofread are things that a beta reader will pick up as they go, as they’re the easiest things to spot, but it’s also worth looking over yourself for anything your beta might have missed.

Whether you decide to follow any or all of these steps, always do the proofread last.There is no point carefully spellchecking a chapter you are then going to delete, or proofreading the whole thing, but adding loads of new paragraphs later that either don’t get looked at or mean you end up having to proofread twice. That’s the only hard and fast rule when it comes to editing, and it will save you a lot of unnecessary work!

FREEDOM

And then, finally, unbelievably - you’re done. Your literary child is ready to leave the nest. Resist the urge to keep re-reading and tweaking. Instead, click “publish” and give yourself a nice little treat. You’ve earned it.

Miscellany and Disclaimers

These editing stages are ones that would be applied to a published novel. An author would probably do this several times - once on their own to get it ready for submission, then perhaps again with their agent, but the really heavy work would be done with their editor. The structural edit would be done under the advice of an agent or editor where the author looks at their comments, rejigs things accordingly, and lather, rinse, repeat until everyone’s happy. The editor would undertake the line edit, and the author would decide what they wanted to keep or change. The copy edit and proofread would be done in-house or sent to freelancers, with queries and changes wafted past the author for clarification or approval.

Self-published authors will often hire freelancers to help at various stages to get feedback and advice.

Very rarely would an author go from draft to final published piece by doing all their editing alone. Because it’s hard fucking work, and because your brain will get exhausted.

In light of that, you need to remember:

You’ve written a fanfic

The editorial standards of fanfic are significantly less stringent than published books

Editing by yourself is really hard work that many people are often paid to do for published books

No-one is paying you for your fanfic

Fanfic is supposed to be fun

Some published authors will edit and rewrite and edit and rewrite again and again. At a panel I attended, Joanne Harris said that if she didn’t rewrite her work at least five times she was being too easy on herself, while Joe Hill said he usually aimed for three rewrites - Joe edited as he went along, going over the previous day’s pages before continuing, where Joanne completed her manuscripts before editing. Elizabeth May has talked about her stages of drafting, starting with her Trash Draft, then her Clean Draft, and then rewriting and editing after that.

These are people who are writing professionally, getting paid for their work, and so the time they put in has monetary results. If you want to write original fiction, their advice is extremely valuable.

For fanfiction, it’s a large time investment for something you’re doing as a hobby for free. If I’m strictly honest, I’m fairly lax with my fanfiction editing. I do structural discussions and tweaks with my beta reader as I write, and then a spell check. I’m also aware that my fanfics aren’t narratively complex, nor do they seem as polished, rich and deep as some of the other works out there. That’s fine by me. You simply need to find the level you’re happy at, where you can still feel proud of your work but you’re enjoying the experience.

In the end - it’s all for fun!

Resources:

Online

Curtis Brown Creative: An Editor’s Guide to Editing Your Novel

Joanne Harris: Ten Tweets About Editing

Joanne Harris: Writing Resources

NerdsLikeMe: Beta Reading vs Proofreading vs Editing

Books

Stephen King - On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Ursula K. Le Guin - Steering the Craft: Exercises and Discussions on Story Writing for the Lone Navigator or the Mutinous Crew

[filipinoizukuu]

pls tell me more of ur fic pet peeves

K OSMFKS OKAY MAN. man. HSDBBSJDJS

so i have like. a FUCK ton of pet peeves for fics, and i just wanted to say first that fanfic should not be placed in any boxes or standards because it is freely written and it is something meant to be enjoyed. these are my opinions and all peeve me to only a certain degree (meaning it squicks me out at worst)—so if you are a fic writer and you find yourself doing any of these things, do NOT take it to heart and just know i love you for doing what you do and i wish you all the best ♡

im gonna give reasons why certain things peeve me so i dont just sound like im bitching but generally, when reading ANY fics, i dislike the ff:

- long paragraphs with no breaks. bro i have adhd i cant go through all of this im going to get LOST.

- underlining, bolding, italicizing, AND capitalizing statements for emphasis like sir its chill i think i get the point. imho if you wrote your scene well enough and paced it properly, the most you'll need is an italics and maybe an exclamation mark. u gotta trust ur own writing and the reading comprehension of your audience.

- jittery perspective jumps especially when its fic about characters who use the same pronouns and youre constantly shifting the thoughts being presented. it... gets kinda confusing.

- FIRST PERSON POV. ITS NOT BAD I JUST GET SO JARRED BECAUSE SASUKE UCHIHA IS DOING WHAT TO ME??

everything else like grammar and punctuation and spelling is literally just. whatever. like as long as i get your point i really dont care. sometimes writers dont speak english fluently. sometimes writers just fuck up and dont have betas. sometimes writers just post their chapters at 3 am and leave all their mistakes out for god. i have no right to judge.

for personal bnha fic pet peeves, ig most of my annoyance lies on characterization and my own personal beliefs

- i already said it previously but i cannot STRESS how much i dislike the whole "fuck redemption arcs and fuck all authority figures except LoV for some reason" theme. it annoys me and i just flat out dont agree with it

- HATE tropes that reduce deku to being like 🥺👉👈 uwu okie soft helpless bean. theres nothing wrong with it if thats how you prefer deku, but i just get annoyed by it

- ANYTIME BKDK HAS AN UNEQUAL DYNAMIC. again. nothing wrong with exploring it in fanfiction. i just dislike reading fics that make either deku or bakugou blatantly weaker than the other. i love quirkless deku fics but i hate ones where he's also characterized as amounting to nothing and still acts like bakugous punching bag/okay with bakugou disrespecting him. their whole dynamic in canon is built on a great deal of respect

- speaking of bkdks power dynamic, FRICK GOSH I HATE SEEING FICS WHERE DEKU "realizes bakugous been abusing him for years!" and gets him expelled from ua and everyone claps. like. LIKE??? N. NO???? thats not how it works 😭

- all might slander. also unjustified or unnuanced endeavor slander where they dont tackle the complexity of his character. also also unjustified or unnuanced bakugous mom slander. this ones a bit controversial so i wont talk about it much.

- sexist homophobic or racist bakugou. im kicking that away. no. especially fics where bakugous past bullying is explained as "repressed homosexuality". i like making that as a joke but i genuinely do no believe in it.

- BAD MOM MIDORIYA INKO. ITS A TROPE I SEE SOMETIMES AND IT MAKES ME CRY I DONT HAVE A RATIONAL REASONING FOR IT I JUST LOVE INKO

- fics where ochako is obviously very reduced into a supporting figure with absolutely no dimension except being a supportive character and maybe having a shoe-horned wlw romance just for the sake of making her unavailable. shes my fave bnha girl and sometimes in fics i can literally FEEL her character being butchered to only show up when deku needs Love Advice. *note that this only applies when literally every other male character has something else going on for them and its just the females being sidelined into Boy Advice Givers and Talking Sense.

- fics that very obviously belittle asian principles and culture. family means a GOOD DEAL to a lot of asian cultures and fics that spout "if you dont like your family then leave and find your own! its that simple!" usually sound incredibly ignorant or outright claim moral superiority to the weight of familial bond in asian culture. same with manners, respect, and discipline.

- jeALOUSY/CHEATING FICS OK IM SELFISH I ONLY WANT BKDK TOGETHER LIKE IM DEKUBOWL ONLY SOMETIMES BUT BKDK ALWAYS HAS TO END UP TOGETHER

- "murdering is ok if its characters i hate 🥰" ... listen, you do you bestie but like. no thanks. if i wanted to read about mineta getting murdered by momo with a pistol i dont think id be opening a bkdk soulmarks au

- any dekusquad slander 😭 i love them okay

- *kicks mean/bakugou-hating todoroki out the door*

- *kicks 'all mha characters text, talk, and behave like 14 year old stan twt users (no offense ok i speak like that too)' fics out the door*

- *kicks bratty deku and/or bakugou out the door*

thats. all i can think of atm.

[kanene-yaaay]

Go Virge, go!

Kanene’s note: TODAAAAAAAAAY IS A SPECIAAAAAL DAYYYY!!! DO YOU KNOW WHY?? THAT IS RIGHT! BECAUSE TODAY IS @why-not-a-tickle-blog BIRTHDAY!!!! Gooooosh!!!! I know I already did a whole speech before, mah friendo, but you’re just so amazing and lovely! Aaaaaa I’m happy for being your friend! <33

Okay, I got a little carried away! Enjoy the gift! x3

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW Tickle-Fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* Oneshot. Something around 3.800 words.w-)b. Lee!Virgil and Ler!Patton in Human AU.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Since  it’s a gift: Essa fanfic não será traduzida, mals. Thankys for reading, my lollipops, especially you, Livvy!! Have a wonderful and incredible day just like you! 

[~*~]

Patton was confused. A lot.

 And that wasn’t even a whole brand-new thing in his life.

 Patton got confused quite frequently, being honest.  

He got confused when he accidentally fell asleep on the couch and woke up four hours later with all his house painted in the dark of the night and without a single drop of memory about where he is or who he is for some minutes. Patton got confused when his attention was caught in some adorably adorable video of kittens being the best thing in the world and quickly ran to Virgil’s room just to show them to him, not understanding why his friend can’t stop looking at him quizzically until Virgil finally asks why does he has a spoon in the knot of his cardigan and Patton jumps because HIS COOKIES ARE IN THE OVEN AND HOW MUCH TIME HAD PASSED-

 Oh. Wait. That is not what he was talking about. Focus, focus!

 Anyway. Life is confusing, feelings, thoughts, actions, trying your best, keep going, look at the refrigerator just to realize you have no idea of what you were supposed to be searching in the first place, humans…

 Yeah, especially humans.

 Patton stared at the figure of his friend laid on the couch, absently looking at his phone while a piece of smile adorned his face. The movie both decided to watch paused in the background as the one currently in the kitchen waited for the popcorn get ready, his hand held lightly his chin and a frown rest peacefully in his features, mirroring the same expression he always saw on Logan every time he was confronted by a problem whose solution seemed impossible to find.

 It was The Pose of all the incredible genius in the world, right? Therefore, in some moment about now the answers of all his questions should magically pop before him, unfolding and refolding in logic patterns just like in all the mystery series and books.

 Right about noooow…

 …

 Now?

 …

 Well, it didn’t work.

 Patton pouted, turning to pour the warm and probably delicious snack in big bowls that both would pretend they wouldn't be able to finish before even getting in the middle of the so expected movie. He grabbed the bowls and headed to the other room, reprising the entire day in his mind, a faint echo of Logan saying that could help basing his decision.

 Everything started in the morning with Patton arriving at their breakfast table only to find Virgil, but not his usual Virgil.

 That was a Virgil without his hoodie.

 Not that it was a totally strange thing! Usually by his free mornings he would prefer to wander in the house on his comfortable pajamas, however the thing today is… he wasn’t on his pajamas. He was prepared to fight the world – actually Virgil was just going to work, but he said this sounded more badass - on his black Slipknot shirt, jeans and the hoodie nowhere near to be seen.

 Besides that, today was predominantly cold. Cold enough for the one wearing glasses end up missing his favorite cat cardigan by the time he arrived their house, searching for the so dearly craved cloth in every little corner until Patton came across the scene of his friend - his best edgy, lovely friend cutely wearing it and being equally playfully bratty when tried ask it back, pulling out his tongue out as his form dazed in a chase the moment Patton’s promise of ‘physically fight for it!’ – which was a lie, obviously. He gave up the vestment the very moment his eyes locked in a Virgil playing with the cat ears sewed in it – flew from his mouth.

 And, after getting tired out, they cuddled! Okay, this wasn’t nearly a strange occurrence between both, albeit was one of those rare moments when Virgil was the one who initiated it, laying on his lap with a pout and a sharp look, as if he dared the other to say something (and Patton didn’t!! He swears!! Squeals. Do. Not. Count. As. Words.), feeling comfortable enough to even start a Poking War as they were accommodating themselves on the cushions, rays of giggles, squeaks filling the place for some heartbeats before both decided to metamorphose their last bit of routine into a movie night.

 Which was exactly what they were doing!

 Now, don’t get Patton wrong. He was absolutely delighted by everything! Knowing Virgil felt comfortable, safe enough to act nonchalant around him was so heart-warming he could almost feel himself melt in happiness!

 ….But…

 But there was this signal in the back of his mind. A particularly different gleam in the other’s eyes he had already seen before, however couldn’t quite place its meaning yet. Some words unpronounced amongst his lightly snarky demeanor. Some little thing that made Patton feel playful and happily bubbly as well, except he couldn’t really grab the exact information, the exact why or the exact memory.

 Not yet, at least.

  [~*~]

  Virgil was about to fucking quit it.

 No, actually, he was about to fuck quit everything when he woke up of his incredibly, horrible, wonderfully teasy tickle dream. The tingles of the dreamy tickles still ghostly buzzing on his body as he quietly giggled, burying his face in the pillows and kicking about everything on his bed, eyes firmly closed as the memories bathed his mind in a flow made to increase awfully his lee mood.

 And then one of his favorite artists posted some new things on Tumblr, which obligated him to see all their new posts and, who knows, accidentally click in the tag ‘My arts’ of them, which end up with him re-finding other works he had already forgot about, path that consequently leaded to some more reblogs and therefore another bunch of tickle blogs which, of course, made his lee mood at work almost unbearable.

 At least he had the cold to blame if someone questioned about the persistent blush spread on his features.

 After everything, finally: The calm and quiet of home, broken by his determined decision to try to make – somehow - Patton tickle him. His friend was soft and playful by nature, and he already knew Virgil liked tickles (quite of an interesting story involving a meme, a movie and the power going out. Heh. Do not ask about it.) so, I mean, the worst part was already gone, right? It wouldn’t probably be that bad. Virgil would just act naturally, smoothly following a few advices he found in some blogs discussing this topic and hope, for the sake of his life, the Universe wouldn’t follow Murphy's Law for ONCE.

 Of course, that didn’t happen. OF COURSE.

 Virgil tried first to be a bratty. He stole Patton’s cardigan and even ran across the house in an attempt to maintain his new possession. He stretched while laid in Patton’s lap: no hoodie, ticklish spots right there. In the last shot he even let himself giggle every single time his mind wandered to the dark corner designed especially for the subject. The one wearing smudged make up even started a poke war!! A poke war!! What kind of poke war doesn't evolve to a tickle war where he would, so sadly and despise his best efforts, lose spectacularly??

 He crossed his arms and DID NOT pout, blowing grumpily some strands of hair that fell in his vision’s field.

 “I would sell my soul for a tickle.” Virgil growled, his usually careful façade crumbling under the quite persistent thoughts of fingers spidering on his ribs, counting each one of them before lazily dragging the tip of the nails to his quivering tummy, dancing and poking unbothered by his squi-

 “What was that?”

 Virgil squeaked, jumping some centimeters in the air when the voice of his approaching friend filled the room, the words getting stuck in his throat, his head shooting in the other’s direction, wide eyes.

 “What.” He eloquently offered.

 “I was too far, didn’t hear what you said, sorry. Could you repeat, please?”

 Virgil tried – failing - to not blush. Patton was… actually being serious, right? That wasn’t any kind of tease, even if the traitor little demon he usually called brain unhelpfully unlocked all the memories of all the tickle fanfics he read that began with that exact same words. “Nothing. It was nothing.” He promptly ignored the way his voice came out slightly high.

 “Oh, okay!” Patton kindly smiled, putting the popcorn on the coffe table and looking for some space on the couch to lay down while Virgil pressed play, the show’s opening quickly filling the air and silence hanging between both. Patton stopped. Suddenly Virgil felt a shiver run across his whole body, his gaze turning to his friend, only to find the one wearing glasses staring at him intently.

 “You like tickles.”

 The word only was enough to jolt his body back to a sitting position, butterflies starting to wake up, proceeding to fly the most desperate as possible in his stomach, his brain fuzzing, crumbling for answers of How and When and What the Fuc-

 “What? NO! I mean, yes but how- when did you just…”

 “Oh!” Patton gasped and Virgil felt his whole face in flames once the realization of the shiny gleam in the other’s eyes, almost as literal stars shining, hit him. Maybe… Maybe something he had done before finally work? “That is why you initiated a Poke War? Were you trying to make me tickle you? Vee, you just needed to ask!”

 Yep. No. Nope. No way. That was definitely worse.

 Virgil tried to hide himself in his hoodie, deciding he could very much rather perish in his Lee Mood than stare at the pure love and awe gazed right in his direction. His lips curving in a shadow of a smile for a second when he pressed himself further on the furniture, noticing with a grumble leaving his mouth the only armor he owned was the cat cardigan. Hood pulled up and his face firmly pressed on his knees, he ignored the way his excited giggles started to bounce and dance in his throat, resulting in his own body bounce a bit.

 “Knock knock…” Virgil felt a light tapping on his knee.

 “Fuck off.” The hissed answer ran without letting he even think about it, too much occupied in pretending to not notice how much this position left his entire tickl- I mean, sensitive torso vulnerable and how much not seeing what was happening increased second by second the tingles and shivers crazily racing in his skin.

 “Gasp! Virgil!” The one dying in the cat cardigan internally rolled his eyes at the literally audible gasp his friend vocalized, almost being able to see the playful mood taking over his expression as it always has when they swore around him. “I should tickle you for this, Mister Potty Mouth!” Yes. Yes!! Come on, come on! “But I won’t.”

 Hey now, what.

 “What?!” His head shot upwards absurdly fast, a fact which, obviously, he would deny it to the end of his living and non-living days.

 “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide or ignore your desire for tickles every time you have them! Especially…”

 ‘Please – see? I know how to use some freaking good words. - Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say, Patton. You’re cool, you’re a funny guy, you have good intentions but you have any ideas of what the fuck will happen??’ Virgil found himself almost pleading, the sentences already running in his head, but his lips firmly gripped in the fear to let out more than these simple words.

 “… Since I’m totally okay in tickling you! Oh, wait. Did you just squirm? Aww, Virgil!! That is so, so adorable! You’re blushing, too! Awwwwww!!! Okay, okay, okay, I’m… Imma gonna die of cuteness. You’re truly the most precious being I’ve ever met!!! Wait, what I was just saying…?” 

 ‘I will die! No! I’m already dying! See? You already accomplished what you wanted!! Let’s move on to the next damn part!’

 “Oh right!” Patton lightly hit the side of his head. “I’m glad to tickle you! Truly! All you have to do is…”

 ‘Dude, Patton, Pat-Pat, Popstar don’t…’

 “Ask me! Please, please, please!!” Virgil stared him dead in his eyes, crossing his arms, his cheeks so hot that he was surprised his face didn’t melt yet. “Aw, don’t give me that look, kiddo!” Virgil just narrowed his eyes further. Patton pouted, his ‘Puppy Eyes’ expression – more like an unfair weapon - showing and nailing cracks on Virgil’s resolution.

 They stayed like this for a while, until Patton abruptly lifted his hands, his fingers wiggling on Virgil’s direction, the movement so out of blue that catched his friend out of guard, a true yelp jumping from him before he grumpily growled and let himself fall on the cushions.

 “I can’t.”

 “Of course, you can, kiddo! I’m rooting for ya! Wanna see?” And then he started to fold and unfold his fingers, approaching them to Virgil inch by inch “Go Virge, go! Go, Virge, go! Goooo, Virgeyyyy, go!” Inch by inch. Close and then even closer. The boy with a wobbly smile in his face felt like he couldn’t tear his eyes from the movements, the butterflies seeming to freak out in his stomach in the rhythm of the cheers.

 He hides his face behind his hands. Patton was going to be the end of his existence.

 “Stohop it.” Dammit. He was breaking.

 ‘Come on, guy! You can do this!’ He internally whined.

 “Ooh, is that a beauty giggly giggle what I hear? The cheering should be working then, don’t you think?! We believe in you, Virge-poo! And we can’t wait for when we…” Virgil dared to spy the scene between his fingers, only to see Patton’s hands barely touching his sides, his fingers positioned in a claw shape. “… getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha!!” They suddenly moved, clawing unbearably away and terribly close at each couple of words.

 No. Virgil did NOT squeal nor squirmed closer to the fingers. Fuck you. Nobody asked. That is none of your business anyway.

 ‘Just… just don’t think about it! Pull it off. Like… I don’t know! Like a stupid band aid!’

 “It is going to be so much fun! I didn’t even tickle you yet and you’re already giggling excitedly! Think in all your wonderful, beautiful laughter flying everywhere when I finally tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle you silly!! You’ll be giggling up a storm! Happy gasp! Pun inserted!”

 Virgil obligated himself to take a deep breath and not stare the warm, teasy hands which were oblivious of the intern turmoil caused as they rested on his sides. Their tips very lightly, almost impossible to feel and – even more difficult to ignore - poking the ticklish skin, as if they simply couldn’t bring themselves to stay still. The one laid on the couch and yet hiding his face felt the urge to kick just to get off all the pleasantly nervous energy building up in his body.

 “Virgey-wiggly-wiggley…~”

 “TICKLEMEPLEASE!”

 Patton squeaked excited, the teasy grin immediately giving space to the joyful smile. “Of course!” He grazed his fingers up his sides to his ribcage, the nails lightly drawing circles around each one of the ribs, receiving a quick tasering in the middle of them before going up to the next one, letting for a piece of moment Virgil’s bubbly and more high-pitched giggles fill the room alone.

 The cat cardigan owner ran the tip of his fingers up and down, up and down, up and down his sides, watching in complete awe the way the other squirmed at each infinitesimal move. He stopped the movement on his right side, his eyes gleaming behind the lenses as accompanied Virgil adorably wiggling away from the reminiscent tickles, as if he tried to escape from the evil fingers scribbling in that exactly spot which connected his left side to his tummy and leaded cute, sweet titters escape from his gigantic smile.

 A devious plan shinned in his head.

 Patton ceased the tickling in order to give him a breath, smiling at the pout that didn’t take too long before blooming in the other’s features.

 He quickly poked his left side, immediately hearing quiet, bubbly giggles dance across the air as Virgil wiggled to his right, only to be warmly welcomed by scratches of one single finger on his lower back, making his breath stop so fast a snort escape. Virgil widened his eyes, his hands automatically clapping in his mouth at the same time a big, gleaming grin took over Patton’s expression. They stared at each other, fingers never stopping, squirms never ending.

 “No.” His voice was slightly wobbly, giggles beginning to intertwine his words as his friend scribbled softly again. “No no no! You are a- dON’T!- such a dork!!! No!!”

 They initiated the cycle again. Every time Virgil squirmed to escape from the left tingles to the right tickles one more finger was added to the attack, soon leaving the blushed poor victim kicking sporadically when the ten fingers resumed their light, tickly attack. “I’m going t-t-to kick you!!” and then was subdued to the snorts and squeals painting his fast titters.

 The one who wore the cat hoodie which moments before had slipped from his head in the ““fight””, now showing clearly the red strongly flaming his cheeks and the tip of his ears shook his head from side to side, the frown he tried to form being immediately won by the smile taking over his features. Virgil let himself embrace the feeling completely over, laughing freely, almost doesn’t believing this was actually happening.

 That it didn’t matter how much he tried to escape nor squirm, the tickling just followed his movements, just as all his (fake) protests didn’t stop the excited, evil teases pouring from the other’s mouth. Not to tell how only the big, happy gaze from Patton was definitely not helping in the slightest his current state at all!

 He was certain. There was no way out of this. He was going to melt and   d i e.

 And he was loving every single second of this.

 “Aww! Tickle, tickle, tickle, Virge!! Look at the happiness shining in your face!! Someone really, really loves some tickly-tickles, am I right? But don’t worry, Virgey-wiggley! I will give you all the tickles you could ever want! Like here!” He booped Virgil’s bellybutton “Here” A couple of fingers slid on his waistline “And here, and here, and here and everywhere!” Fingers flew quickly, traveling on his hips, collarbone, sides, behind his ears…

 The incapacity to know where Patton would strike next killed every single drop of coherent thoughts of his mind, which could only focus on the tickling and how much it was unbearable and everywhere and it  t i c k l e d . His giggles grew to chortles, his hands flying from his own face to lightly push Patton’s, dislocating his glasses and freeing surprised chuckles mixed with his own squeaks.

 “Virgil!!” Patton ceased the playful attack in order to retire the other’s hands off his face, before both knew they’re wrestling, laughter cutting their acts and weakening their movements. “Virge!! I will go to another spot this way!”

 In a blink of an eye one of his friend’s arms hugged his sides and Patton felt a malefic grin crawling his lips without even noticing its presence. Very much different from Virgil, who in the same heartbeat realized his mistake, using the opportunity of the instant of distraction to lightly push the cookie lover off him, quickly dashing across the house. All his instincts gleaming and sparkling the sign of ‘Survive’ in his veins.

 The only reason of what Virgil forgot about the numbness from spending so much time laid on his legs, resulting in trips that definitely made him lose some crucial speed as he encircled the couch, capturing with the corner of his eyes the scene of Patton jumping of the cushions and following his escape route. The crackling dancing in the air owned by nobody specific.

 His heart beat faster, the joy raced his nerves and made his tummy tingle in advance just for imagining the exact moment where two arms would hug him firmly yet gently from behind and his ears would be set on fire the very same moment Patton would say-

 “Gotcha, Giggly Storm! I gotcha, gotcha ya!!” Patton dug his thumbs right above Virgil’s hips, the remaining fingers clawing the poor, sensitive skin in his back, leading belly laughter to took over his friend’s sentence, his knees buckling and legs uncontrollable kicking as Patton sat with him on the floor, pressing his back on his chest and resting his head on his shoulder.

 “Patton!! Pahahatton, come on, no!” Patton just hummed, two fingers calmly walking on Virgil’s waistline. “Don’t you dare!! Don’t you fuckin- gah!” The nails began to slid in the length of the belly, going from a side to another as elected soft snorts and bouncy giggles.

 “Tickle, tickle, tickle, Virge!! Did you thought you could run away from the Tickle Monster? Poor unfortunate soul ~. Now the Tickle Monster has to give you a bunch of more ticklish tickly tickles just for this, don’t you think?!” And then Virgil felt the tickles speed up to scribbles and clawing and wiggles delivered in every inch of his tummy. Going in random patterns, drawing forms on his sweet spot, up and down, from a side to another, over and over again. Quick enough to make him sporadically squirm and kick, a rain of squeals, yelps and squeals flowing from his lips, yet soft and light enough to let him rest his head on the other’s chest and just enjoy the feeling.

 “Awww! Look at how much shaking your tum-tum is! It is probably so happy in receiving its so much craved tickle tickle tickles, right, Virgey-poo?” The answer was only a blushy Virgil hiding his face on Patton’s neck, giggling nonstop.

 “Nonono!! It’s not!” And, if that move only led to a now very exposed neck to be gifted with some special scratches? They both pretended it wasn’t on purpose.

 Patton just rolled his eyes, playfully exasperated, quietly chuckling when the other jumped with the quick squeeze delivered on his hip.

 It didn’t take long before Virgil let out his first ‘Stop’, which Patton happily obliged, don’t having the heart to move when he realized Virgil’s breath becoming calmer, his eyelashes closing as he snuggled closer to the one wearing glasses.

 The duo knew very well they would probably regret napping on the hard, cold floor later, yet none of them managed to bring themselves to care, especially when Virgil’s quiet snorts with the second tickle dream of the day lullabied Patton to an equally peaceful dream.

  [~*~]

  Random non-said thing: Patton only remembered that information because the movie they’re going to watch was one of the trilogy they were watching when Virgil gathered up enough will to tell him he likes tickling.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Color of my Soul(mates) [2]

[First oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. New oneshot yaaaay!! Just a quick reminder that both Virgil and Patton’s mindsets are bad. They can work, of course, but only for a certain expense. Worry not. They will both start to go to a therapist and take care of themselves, even though this will not be heavily shown in the oneshots.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Moxiety and Past Moceit and Past Virgil/Remus (no idea how it’s called dfghjdfghj) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Swearing, depreciative thoughts, losing someone (not death, just stopping to be soulmate), anger issues, anxious thoughts and nightmares. It’s hurt/comfort.

* [~*~]  Means passage of time

* [...] Means change in the focus of the narrative 

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 5.300 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                          [~*~]

Loneliness is an island with missing boats.

Missing is when the moment tries to run away from the memories to happen again and can’t do it.

Memories are when, even without authorization your thinking re-presents a chapter.

-       Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hey, Dee! It’s been some time, huh? Nothing really happened around here, so I have no interesting news to share today. Buut, I learned a new knock knock joke! I would finally get you to laugh with this one! It’s like that:

Me: Knock, knock.  

U: Who’s there?  

Me: Ice cream.  

U: Ice cream who?  

Me: Ice cream if you don’t let me in!

Funny, right?!

… It feels silly to continue to talk with you through those letters. I can’t-

I don’t even know where to send them! That is stup- not great.

I just… I just miss you, Dee. A lot. My uncle says that I should get your old representation out of the bed and hide it so I can start moving on, but… It feels empty, you know? Everything.

I really miss you.

Love, Heart.

[…]

“No.” 

His words echoed in his mind, the strap of his backpack slipping from his grip, his body throwing itself forward, heart jumping in the back of his throat as his steps inevitably brought him even closer to the faded green, almost white, shark plushie in front of him. 

“No.” 

He repeated, as if this was a spell able to make the scene before him change. His hands trembled and failed in touching the so loved object, a silent scream slipping from his slightly parted lips. Yet, he still tried to think of something. Anything that would erase his choices. He knew it.

He should have known. He read about it before, the butterfly effect. Any choice, any movement, any little thing you did could change drastically your future. It could make events – people – which would happen in your life just…

Disappear. 

[The stuffed animal remained quiet on his hands, it’s blank face staring superficially, not really seeing him. Not like before.]

He knew it. 

“Rat?” He knew it. He knew it. He knew, knew, knewknewknew it! “Ree?” His soul searched desperate for an answer. But he got none. No thoughts, no feelings, no small touches, no acknowledging sparks, nothing. 

That word seemed to ring unbearably in his ears. There was nothing there. Nothing except for the silence and the void which filled itself with despair at every that went by.

“This better not be a prank or this time I will throw you in the washing machine for real!” Virgil’s eyes were stinging. He should have done better, should have thought in another way or another anything. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t! 

“Ree, stop. That is not funny.” Ree actually preferred when Virgil called him Rat, and as his chest was scratched by an agonizing, crescent fear, deep down the young boy wished his soulmate would jump – his thoughts always felt like that, excited, uncontrollable jumpy frogs just playing around – from somewhere and demands Virgil called him by it. “Answer me!!”

His fingers squished the soft fabric, a short, unexpected wave of anger pleading for at least a shout of pain before Virgil realized what he was doing, immediately lighting his touch, tears shining in a sad gloom in the corner of his eyes. His breathing started to hurt.

He needed to do something.

“MOM!!”

Virgil opened his door with a strong slam, running through the wooded floor of the corridor, stumbling his way to the stairs, coming down at the highest speed he could muster. The adult figure was already standing in the living room, the Tv blasting a show in the background, probably the activity his mother was concentrating on before his cry. A frown painted her face and her dark eyes stared at the boy when he stood in front of her, holding his stuffed shark in her direction.

“Fix him!” 

[‘it’ a quiet whisper from his brain corrected his sentence.]

Her analytical eyes danced around the toy in front of her, looking for any teared fabric, any stain or hint of what happened to it, the confusion in her actions becoming more and more prominent as no visible result was found.

[And, as her analysis occurred, the quiet whisper in the back of his mind wondered if this was the original color of the shark before it became a representation of his soulmate. They were together for so long Virgil didn’t even remember what it used to look like.]

No! The boy with heterochromatic eyes firmly gritted his teeth, head shaking. This was NOT the shark’s real color. Its real color was a dark, deep, enthusiastic green full of chaotic ideas and dumb jokes and sparks and grins.

He refused to let everything end in this way.

Realization fell in her face, a soft gasp coming from her open mouth. “Oh, Virgil…”

“No, no, no! You- You need to fix him!” But her eyes… “Mom, please,” the way her arms opened to involve his small, trembling form… 

“Please, he is my best friend.”

[‘Was’]

She hugged him, cradling her fingers in his hair and lightly rocking Virgil and his sobs, her sweet words muffled by his cry. Then the younger one wiggled out of her touch, getting the plushie and running back to his room, the door slamming one more time.

He refused.

“No! No!!” He kicked his backpack, its content spreading across his carpeted floor. The shark was placed in his desk seconds before the Virgil focused his anger on his bed, throwing everything on the floor. His pillows hit the walls and the toys on his shelves. The cacophony of sounds made his head hurt, but he ignored this in order to kick and throw more things. 

Seconds, minutes, countless pieces of time passed before he stopped, panting and with stinging eyes in the middle of the room, his only possessions left untouched was his guitar and Ra- His shark stuffed animal.

Because he loves playing guitar. Because he loves Ree.

His fingers pet its soft fur, wandering in every detail, trying to burn in his soul how alive and colored it used to be before today.

Virgil felt like crying, felt like hugging his old-representation with all his might and just spent the rest of the day like this, pleading that Ree would come back and Virgil would do better and everything could be back to normal again.

But he refused.

He refused to cry like a baby. He refused to let this happen to him. He refused to be made a fool by the Soulmate System or whatever sadistic creature that observed him right now. He refused to go through all of this again. 

Ever again.

Virgil opened his closet and got up on his chair, hiding the shark on the highest shelf under a bunch of old comforts he never got to use.

They wanted him to be a Colorless? Very well, then.

[~*~]

Anger is when the dog who lives in you shows its teeth.

Sadness is a gigantic hand that squeezes your heart.

-       Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hiya, Dee.

Some days are better, some are worse. 

It hurts.

But, hm, good things, right? Today was sunny and refreshing, I love when this happens. A ladybug landed in my hand yesterday, it was so small… I also found another beautiful feather when I went to the park last weekend, very fluffy and a baby on the bus smiled at me after I made some funny faces.

I hope you’re also receiving and giving some beautiful smiles there. Aunt just called me for the movie night so… See you later!

I miss-

Love, Heart.

[…]

Virgil woke up sweating. A tight feeling clutching the back of his mind. However, he managed to catch himself before his eyes opened, the back of his hand pressing them, as if to make sure they wouldn’t open against his will.

Urg… Not this again…

Virgil pressed harder the pillow curling around his head, the pressure easing the irritation as he groaned in protest, wondering how much more time it would take before he finally grew used to this routine. An annoying sensation banged rhythmically on his chest, hammering together with his heart and flying along with the butterflies on his stomach over and over again until a slightly nausea almost leaded the one in pajamas to give up and just find the nearest stuffed animal so his soulmate’s bond could finally be initiated, his representation showed up and then the exhausted teen could finally get some freaking rest  and then proceed to turn a blind eye to his soulmate for the rest of their lives.

Who would say that ignoring the Soulmate System would be so hard?

But, damn, even if this shit always came back at the right moment when the first ray of sunshine hit his face, usually Virgil had at least the freedom of the night to sleep!

His hand wandered clumsily, hitting the bean bag next to his bed and looking for the small device he always left there for the night. He sighs when his fingers make contact with the cold of his phone, quickly bringing it up to his face and making sure nothing else could get in his eye field. On the third try he succeeded to put the right password, ignoring the video shining on it and quickly lowering the brightness of his screen until it was almost nonexistent. 

Four in the morning. What the heck was his not-for-much-longer-soulmate doing up at this hour??

Ok. It didn’t matter, Virgil murmured to himself, his words slurring, completely engulfed by the fog of sleepiness which continued to involve him. It didn’t matter because Virgil was sure he would manage to win that battle, just like he did on every other occasion since Ree. Of course, he never had a perfect receipt for this, only a group of superficial orientations as focusing on something else, tossing around the mattress until the exhaustion took over his body or doing anything that guaranteed his suborn nature to fight until the bond faded away with some hours, maybe one or two days. 

However, this one was about to complete a whole week and his resolution was beginning to weaken, escaping between his fingers regardless of how much he fought to hold it with tooth and nails. The mild headache growing on him was the proof of this.

He flipped his pillow, letting its cold surface rest on his face, adjusting himself to lay starfished onto the bed. 

He needed distractions. 

Songs. He liked to listen to music a lot, something he would be very much inclined to do now if it wasn’t so late and his earphones were so far away. But, stopping to think about it, it was crazy how sounds work, like, even if they’re far away they manage to be heard. Pretty much like that weird sound captured by that boat who was only minding its business… The Bloop. Heh. The Bloop. Such a stupid name… He wondered if it was a Jurassic animal doing that and when humanity would be finally able to answer his question. If it is really an animal will they call him Bloop? That is a horrible name to give to something probably gigantic and scary… Bloop… Bloopers… blooo...

His muscles from his toes to the tip of his fingers began to relax, his breathing becoming more erratic as the trail of nonsense thoughts led him away from reality and straight to the cloak of Morpheus. Bit by bit he started to be unaware of his room. First the faint sound of his spider quietly scraping the sand on her terrarium, second the sensation of the pillow on his face, then the cold of his phone as it slipped away from his hand…

And, unsupervised by the teenager's eyes, his index finger hit the ‘play’ button on the video, and the blasting of Aquiles Priester’s drums filled the room in a hot shot, followed in the same second by Virgil’s hoarse scream. The confusion and sound making the one with heterochromatic eyes stumble to a sit position, blankets and pillows falling from him as his astonished movements tried to be coordinated enough to turn off his phone before his mother woke up and decided to know why and what her son was doing up at four-darn-morning. 

The button was hit and the silence was faster in cover the room all over again, being only broken by Virgil’s shaken gasps, his trembling fingers laying on his adulterated heartbeats, taking large, wobbly deep breaths in order to normalize it, his attention entirely focused on hearing any hint of muffled step outside his room.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

He was fine. Everything was fine. 

This was only a scare.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

Okay. No sound. Virgil allowed himself to fall on his bed, stretching and humming in attempts to ground him to reality, not taking too long to let the sleepiness begin to slowly crawl to his mind again, his body feeling surprisingly much lighter than it had been in days. A yawn escaped from his lips. What the hell he was doing with his cell phone anyway?

For the second time in the night his body fled to a sitting position, the sudden calm and coziness which hit his senses now having a slightly sour taste on his mouth as the teenager realized what it meant.

His soulmate bond was complete.

His gaze flew to the small pile of fabric on the floor, a glint of a sky-blue color shining amidst it. He pushed his blankets away and his breath hitched when the full form of his soulmate’s representation was shown.

Oh no. Nononono. That was- 

That wasn’t normal. Nor supposed to happen. Oh shit. Shitshitshitshit. What could he do?

Virgil dropped – carefully, even if the cold on the bottom of his stomach screamed for him to run! – the object on his bed, getting across the room and right in front of his closet in a blink of an eye. The door flung open, his gaze scrambling through all his possessions in search of that specific teddy bear his mother gave him a year ago, telling it was going to help him to heal, grabbing it firmly and plopping it next to the blue fabric calmly laying on his mattress. He bit his nails while his eyes ran from an object to another, waiting for the color to somewhat jump on the plushie, where it was supposed to go in the first place.

Virgil stared inquisitively at his pillow- no, his soulmate’s representation, as if he could scare the reality into changing itself. His fingers ran through his hair, feet pacing on the floor.

 Ok. His soulmate was a pillow. A literal pillow. That was not good.

Before he could fall on his parasitizing thoughts or hide the pillow and pretend nothing had happened, a badly muffled sound reached him, making his body freeze as his brain immediately recognized what it was:

Crying.

[...]

Before is a caterpillar who didn’t become a butterfly, yet.

Indecision is when you know very well what you want, but you think you should want another thing.

-       Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[...]

Hey, dear! Heart here again! It’s been a time, huh? I discovered a new Pet Shop nearby and a very nice old lady let me play with the puppies after school. You really should see the hamsters there! They’re the cutest, most precious soft things!!

They don’t have any snakes, sadly.

I… I hid your teddy bear and I’m getting used to not stare at the right corner of the mattress, looking for you. 

I still miss your smooth thoughts, your warmth, your advice and receipts and… you.

I think I’m getting better. The sensation is starting to feel… normal.

Remember we-

I used to-

I know you won’t really read this, but I’m trying to keep taking care of myself. 

Hooray?

Love, Heart.

[…]

Patton loved stuffed animals and this was a fact that anyone who got into his room for barely two seconds would realize. Small plushies of multicolored frogs rested on his shelves. A big polite giraffe sat on his desk, proudly showing off her new necktie and his older ones were in the closet, guarding his favorites clothes. His soulmates, of course, had a special treatment, receiving a seat on his bed, closer to him and within his research at any occasion, emergency or not.

And that was an emergency. Well…technically. 

Maybe…

Perhaps not. 

The teenager changed to a sitting position, his fingers trapping the mattress in a deadly grip, tears falling from his eyes, which was firmly focused on the moon shaped night light across his room, trying to kick out the too cold, too hot feeling the nightmare left on his skin. 

His brain felt fuzzy and his thoughts were all mushed together, way too messy to properly fight against the memories of his dream replaying on his head. The sensation of pure despair still running on his veins as the monster – tall, fast, its shadow hovering over his small form – chased him and his friends. Patton still felt his throat dry after running for what seemed hours, and for when he realized they would never manage to actually escape from it. He could feel the betrayed eyes of his loved ones as he made each one of them trip, the small period when the monster got them giving him enough time to escape, the screams ringing on his ears.

He muffled his sobs, slapping his hand on his mouth and getting up, going to his closet and grabbing his panda. It was one of the fluffiest stuffed animals he had and he could use a bit of softness right now. His steps were tired and he hid his face on the plushie even before laying on his bed again, curling around the bear as if it was the core of safeness, as if it would make all the bad thoughts and feelings go away.

As if it could erase all the nightmare and convince the part of his mind which said that if it was real life, that would be exactly what he would do, that it was wrong.

It was! It was completely wrong! Patton would never, ever, betray his friends, or hurt them, or go away when they needed most! He wouldn’t. He would fight, if it was needed. He would do his best every single time to help them! To be there. He wouldn’t just run away. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be alone. He didn’t even bear that thought.

[A part of his soul struggled, firm on its position. It kept holding into a bond that directed to another soul who kept pushing him away, both refusing to change their mind.]

Bear. Patton let go of a weak, barely audible, forced giggle, squeezing the panda on his touch tighter. Panda was a bear. Heh. His tears began to calm themselves, falling slower from the corner of his eyes, a strange and sudden wave of strange, but welcomed calmness hitting him.

A sudden warm touch laid on his forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Patton gasped, his wide eyes flying open to stare at the now purple plushie on his grip.

Purple. Pandas weren’t purple. He was sure this one was always white with black dots and tiny glasses on it. Definitely not purple. Not unless it was-

Oh. 

Ohhh.

Oh no.

For a moment his breath was taken, adrenaline exploded across his body and his mind went blank, his face stumbling forward to press his lips on the panda’s forehead, a completely lack of words, especially when a flow of sentences began to appear running over themselves and leading to his very tired brain to struggle in order to try to grasp their meaning before another phrase came and took its place.

[His body seemed to relax, letting go of a ball of tension Patton didn’t even realize he had in the first place.]

“Fuck, sorry, that was pretty dumb. Of course you’re not fine, why else would you be crying? What I was trying to say is: Can you get better? No, wait! That sounded harsh and it’s definitely not what I meant- wanted to say. Ehh, shit. Okay. Uhh. Breath, okay? Breathing is a good thing. You have to breathe to stay alive so I think it’s already a good start. Keep breathing, please do not die. Oh god, wait, that is not a dangerous situation, is it? Are you in danger? Are you dying? Oh, fuck I can’t hear-”

A startled giggle made a run from Patton’s lips, making his new soulmate to be quiet.

“Urg, sorry.”

“No, no. I was not laughing at you!” He adjusted his grip so the only part touching the purple bear would be him holding one of his paws, realizing he forgot to stop hugging him earlier. “I am okay. I just… didn’t want to cry on you, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t, huh, care.”

“Crazy how bonds happen nowadays.” Patton attempted a joke, feeling suddenly a bit vulnerable, internally wishing the other wouldn’t ask about the reason for his tears. “It-It’s hot today, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, with the Sun and everything.”

“Yeepp.” Patton sniffed, cleaning the tear track left on his cheeks before resting his back on the bed’s headboard, a beginning of a headache after that waterfall of emotions shining in the horizon.

“...Do you want to listen to a song? It helps me to calm down when I’m, ya know.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m already a bit better.”

“Ok, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Maybe it was sleepiness or the excitement of having a new soulmate, but before he could think much more about it the hidden truth was slipping from his mouth, “I’m grounded. No phone for the week.”

“That sucks.” The teenager just shrugged, hoping his soulmate would understand the action by his movement. 

Silence impregnated the room, spreading and filling his system, his eyelashes closing bit by bit.

“I know how to play guitar. I can… play a song for you. Onlyifyouwantofcourse.” The thought was quick, quiet and disappeared as soon as it arrived, leading Patton to almost believe he imagined it.

A good feeling bloomed in his chest, a smile flourishing on his face as he held his soulmate’s free hand, carefully squeezing them in what he hoped it showed his gratitude.

“I would love to.”

“’Kay. Uh, cool. Give me a second.”

And then a few minutes later his form was engulfed by warmth. Patton let go a sigh of relief, basically melting in the so caring touch, don't having the heart - that word gave a hurtful tug in his chest - to remember his new soulmate he couldn't really hear the accords, only the shy, calming humming rumbling on his chest and lullabying them to a peaceful sleep.

[~*~]

Feeling is the language the heart uses when it needs to send a message.

-       Adriana Falcão - Meanings.

[~*~]

"How can I call you?" 

Patton stopped his voice before that old nickname got out, scratching his throat. He should try to move on, right? 

Baby steps. 

"Pat." 

"Pat?" 

"Pat-Pat!" 

Virgil rolled his eyes, denying the small smile which appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“You can call me V.”

[…]

“So, you’re a pillow.”

Patton blinked, a surprised snort filling the room. “V, I know I often say I’m soft but if you wanted to rest on me all you needed to do was ask!” He added some shadowing on some feathers, giving the drawing of the Bem-te-Vi more profundity. He was really happy he found that site about the birds of America. 

“No, I mean literally. Like… your representation is not a stuffed animal, it’s a pillow.”

“Oooh…” He blinked a few times. “I didn’t know that still happens.”

“What do you mean with ‘still happens’? This happened to you before?”

“Not with me, but I saw a video about this! Before the plushies became famous due their shape being easier to be seen as human-like, the bond would form in anything that could be quickly dyed, just like clothes, pieces of fabric, pillows… I think if they showed it to a doctor, he would describe their condition as ‘comfortable!’” Patton shook lightly the panda’s shoulder, smiling. “Uh? Got it? Comfortable? Because they’re soft?”

“Pat, that was horrible.”

“Awww, come oon.” Patton rested his chin on V’s head, forgetting his drawing for a while. “Puns are harder than knock knock jokes! You have to wait for the perfect timing to make them.” Virgil huffed. “Not even an itsy bitsy giggle?”

“Nope.”

Silence.

“Pat?”

“No. I am pouting.”

He felt a couple of pats (ha-) on his head, the touching going away in a few seconds. “You will get there some day.” The other answered his soulmate with a raspberry, giggling a bit of his own silliness before going back to his hobby. He really was planning to finish this bird today.

“The thing is… Since you’re, ya know, a pillow. I was thinking… okay, I know that this will sound weird but… I was thinking of putting some clothes on your representation so I can… try to see you better.” 

“Ah.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, sure!”

“No, no. I am! It’s just…” Patton bit his lips, lightly squeezing the shell of his ear with the hand that wasn’t holding the pencil, adjusting his body to a better sitting position. “What clothes do you have in mind? Not that I think your taste is bad or you don’t know how to choose good clothes or something like that!”

“No, it’s cool!” The thought came in the moment Patton forced himself to stop his nervous talking. “I wanted to ask you because of that, I, uh, have black t-shirts, jeans, an old grey hoodie, PJs, clothes when I was a kid, onesies, maybe I can get a dress?”

“Gasp. Do you have onesies?? Aww, I want!”

“Everyone has a onesie.” Virgil mumbled in defense, feeling his cheeks getting hot. “I have a skeleton one, a raccoon and the Toothless from How to Tra-”

“OHMYGOSH YOU HAVE TOOTHLESS!” Virgil had absolutely no idea how Pat managed to make a thought so high pitched and excited to the point the words themselves were barely understandable. “HE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS, CUTE LIL DRAGON…” and then a bunch of squeaks and mumbling took over his brain just as he has hugged and then lightly bounced before suddenly everything disappeared.

He decided it was safer to let the silence prolong itself a bit longer.

…

“Pat?”

“You might need to give me a few more minutes, kiddo.”

“You need to chill, dude.” Virgil remarked, a ray of fondness shining in his words. He gathered his onesie. It was his favorite one when he was fourteen, now it didn’t even fit on him anymore and it clearly wasn’t made to be used by a pillow, as well, but it would suffice until he thought of a better solution. “Ok. Got it, you might want to use your Blocker now.”

“Okayy, it’s somewhereeeeee...” Patton rummaged the content of his backpack, looking for the earphone-shaped object. He hadn’t the chance to buy the wireless prototype, so he struggled a few seconds to untangle the cables. “Here! So, see you in fifteen minutes?”

“Ok. If you hear or feel something just touch my arm and I will immediately stop.” 

“Right!! Bye!” Patton waved, more a habit than anything else, plugging the Blocker on his ears and the cluing its ventosa behind his head, right where his cerebellum was. A few pieces of time went by before his head became partially empty, only his thoughts filling it. He put the panda away. 

It was a strange feeling, to use this outside his school, nor parallel conversation of his classmates or a teacher’s voice filling the air to distract his attention for the fact that he couldn’t hear or feel his soulmates anymore. He hummed, wondering how Lo was and writing a self note on the corner of his paper that he should check on him later, ask for him to finish that story with the smart detective he was telling him on Sunday before Patton fell asleep due the other’s habit to keep petting his hair, probably a revenge for Patton’s constant need to hugging, holding or actively interacting with his serious soulmate’s representation, more often than not receiving fond-exasperate pokes in return.

He looked through the window, mind wandering as the wind hit the tree in his neighbor’s yard, messing with its leaves. It was a bit lonely to have your thoughts all to yourself…

But not entirely bad.

[…]

“Sooo, howz does it looks like?” The naturally excited voice asked. Virgil just pressed his hand firmer on his lips, his other arm hugging his middle. His gaze fell for what it felt the umpteen time in the blue dyed pillow before him, the sleeves of  his onesie folded inwards in a poor attempt to cut half of its original length, the ‘legs’ were criss crossed and all of this ignoring, of course, the unnatural rectangular shape of the whole thing.   

‘Like shit.’ It was his first thought, but he decided to not send it to Pat.

“Weird.”

“I am looking at my pillows right now and-” giggles, “but come ooon, it’s Toothless! There is no way it isn’t at least a bit cute!”

‘You have no neck.’ He internally panicked, looking at the few, sporadic tiny blue hearts appearing amidst the black onesie, showing the representation was getting used to the new fabric attached to it. ‘A probably-head, shoulders but no neck. It’s like a reverse freaking giraffe!’

However, Virgil decided against sharing this particular vision with the other. 

“I guess. Are you… breathing well or whatever?” His tune was a mix of nonchalant and nervous, the choice of words making him wince.

“I am. Why?”

“No. Nothing. No reason.”

“Oookay.” The teenage signed at the confusion on his soulmate’s tune, why did he had to talk in the first place or be so weird making a such big deal of something stupid like that? Urg. He stared at the blue object one more time. Damn Soulmate System. Damn destiny. Damn lack of socialization skills.

…………

But, dude, really, the guy has literally no neck here, there is NO WAY he isn’t feeling nothing because of that. Pat is probably lying because he pities him after a so horrible, futile attempt of fixing what he caused. No. Wait. He can’t just assume his soulmate is lying because of his overthinking, the other part of his brain retorted. Was he overthinking? He probably was. He always did it. Or perhaps this was a correct inkling of Pat. Soulmates were supposed to do that sort of thing after some time, right? One week was enough time? What he-

“Hey!” Pat’s thought cut his own. “Sooo, now that you can ‘see’ me a bit better… hug? You can say no if you want, sure!”

Virgil blinked one, two, three times.

“Ok. But you let go when I let go, got it?”

“Sure thing, V!” Warmth bloomed in his chest when he heard his nickname, Virgil wasn’t sure why.

He embraced the representation, feeling a bit silly, the same feeling that was fast to go away as Pat hugged him as well, firm but careful. The sensation overwhelmed his senses, but in a good way, leading the one who loved guitars and got a strange hyper fixation on drums to let go a sigh, body relaxing.

He patted Pat’s back two times before finishing the touch. “There you go.”

“Thanks! Sooo, see you later.”

“Sure thing.” He agreed, wanting nothing more than a good hot bath after so many feelings in such a small period of time. 

“uwu”

“How the fu-” 

“NO SWEARING!”

“-did you do that?”

Virgil snorted, the warmth still spreading on his chest and maybe - only maybe, - having a new soulmate wasn’t an entire bad thing.

[marvellouslymadmim]

Hey! Aspiring fanfic writer here; I was wondering if you could talk a bit about your writing/editing process and how long it all takes.

Thanks!

Welp, roughly the same extremely long amount of time it takes to actually answer an ask, tbh 🙃

So...I only know how my brain works, and I can only tell you what works for me might not work for you, and that's OK. I'm breaking into two separate bits, because I almost never do writing and editing at the same time.

And as far as a timeline, honestly it just depends. On life factors, what my hormones are doing at the time (jfc like the week before my period, I have zero creativity, motivation, or attention span), if I'm having trouble with a particular scene, if I'm getting consistent positive feedback (yes, I can totally admit that I write faster when I know a particular reviewer is following along with every update), etc.

WRITING:

First, you gotta just...be fixated, I guess. Particularly if it's an AU, I sit with it for a long time before I ever write a word. I go over scenes, think about how the world changes, what stays the same, what *has* to stay the same to keep the characters true to their canon personalities. I sit with the characters for a long time, too--not just the main characters, but the supporting cast, too. In order to predict someone's future, you have to know their past. Most of our present actions are actually reactions to past events, when you think about it. The better you know your version of the character, the easier every other aspect of writing will be. I don't know how it is for other people, but I don't ever "feel" like I'm writing. I feel like I'm "witnessing", and the characters are simply doing whatever they wish. (***this is gonna be a thing during the editing process, too, so hang on to that)

Then once I have a general idea, I choose a title. Generally, I do not even start a word document until I have a proper title to put on it. The title is part of the theme and aesthetic to me, and it grounds me in the overall arc.

Once that's done, it's time for outlining. I generally wait until I feel this weird almost tingling in my left arm (weirder still bc I'm right handed) and I'm practically vibrating with a need to WRITE THIS STORY NOW. Then I put on some Bear McCreary (honestly, any videogame soundtrack will do, as they are literally designed to help you maintain focus and keep pace) and fucking go to town. For me, it helps to do this with pen and paper, so that I can go back up and squiggle little notes in the margin, rearrange the order, etc, far faster than I could on a computer.

Important note: the outline is not the end-all be-all. Some things don't make it to the final print. Some minor storylines get tossed or characters simply...take a different path than I expect. I will continue re-writing and updating the outline as I go along. On average, I usually have 5-8 outlines per story, and they're often 3-10 pages long. I also have a posted outline, which is a log of all the scenes that did make it to the final product. 

Then, it's the actual writing, at long last. I have found that I write best at the start of my day, before the noise and static of daily life comes in. So I wake up around 5am and spend 90minutes writing before beginning my workday routine. I have the Word app on my phone and may continue adding bits in throughout the day at work, if I get a moment. However, after 5pm my brain is usually fried and no more creativity happens. On weekends, I try to have one morning where I "sleep in" til 6am, and then write until at least 10am, sometimes 2pm, if I can get away with it.

The hardest part still is knowing when to transition and when to skip to the next chapter/scene/whatever. This is like...zero percent helpful, but I liken it to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's definition of pornography: "I know it when I see it." It may seem like a scene is circling, and sometimes it means you gotta leave the room a bit earlier bc the scene has already served its purpose. Other times, it means ya gotta stay with it a bit longer, because there's something the character is trying to say. Give them patience, and give yourself patience, too. Explore the scene and its dynamics. You won't know til you know and even then, sometimes you won't be entirely sure. That's ok, too. Part of the process. Remember editing will happen and you can decide then (hell, you can literally re-edit after it's been published, I've done that before too and added a note on the next chapter for any readers who might have read the first version 🤷🏻‍♀️ not ideal but still functional).

EDITING:

I do simple edits (spelling, grammar, etc) just about every morning as I reread what I wrote the day before, which is a refresher course for the day's writing session. But big "real" editing generally doesn't happen until right before posting.

Now, here's the ***issue from writing: sometimes, something just "doesn't work" in a scene. Again, you'll know it when you see it. The words a character is saying feels clunky. The pacing feels off. Something just...ain't right. More often than not, it means either I haven't truly sat with a character long enough to know their true motivations/backstory, or I am not giving characters the proper time/space/impediment to make the actions or say the things they're currently making/saying. I'm trying to force the flow, rather than letting it ebb and breathe when it needs to.

Absolute ProTip: You spent HOURS writing this scene. It's got some REALLY GOOD moments and lines in it. It doesn't work but you can't just delete it. It's your LIFE. I struggle with this A LOT, and I have found a solution: create a second "outtakes" document to cut and paste those scenes into. Sometimes I still keep moments or bits of dialog. Sometimes I later use bits in a later scene. Sometimes I never look at it again but I still feel secure in knowing that if I wanted to go back and use the original scene instead, I totally can. I don't think I've actually ever gone back to the original, tbh, but it reduced my anxiety about deleting the scene and starting over.

So back to the scene that doesn't work. I take it apart, figure out *at what exact point* it stops working, then work back up a few lines to see where the shift actually begins. More often than not, it's because I'm having characters express their feelings in ways they actually wouldn't. (people very very very rarely actually say what they're thinking/feeling, and you have to relay it in other ways). So I have to keep the internal monologue of what they're actually feeling/thinking, while figuring out how that actually translates via tone, body language, and what they do and don't say.

The "something ain't working stage" can take LITERAL WEEKS. I sometimes have to walk away for awhile, or tackle it only on days when I know I have hours upon hours to truly work on it. I keep circling back around, and eventually, the knot works itself out. Persistence, and insistence that "good enough" isn't actually good enough, are key. (this is why you have to fixated on the story you want to tell--because some days, it's going to take every ounce of that obsession to keep you going and keep you on the track of telling the story you wanted to tell, rather than settling or switching to an easier tack)

Sometimes, editing is a breeze. I don't change much, I may go a little more into the character's inner world here or there. Once you've been doing this for awhile, you'll just know when a story hits all its marks--and you'll also know when it's not, when it could be more or do more, and you can figure out how to get it there. There isn't a precise formula for it, it's more like cooking without an actual recipe to follow--a dash here, a bit there, you'll know it when you taste it.

And I'll leave you with this unsolicited bit: just write. Write often, write about everything, write what makes YOU passionate and happy, and absolutely write for yourself. Edit the fuck out of it, if you need to. Get a beta reader, if you need to. Get someone to just bounce ideas off, if you need to. And don't post it until you're truly ready and it's something you genuinely want to share. If someone gives constructive criticism, take in on the chin and move on (keep the notes, if you think they're valid, and toss em if you don't--you'll never be everyone's style of writer, so know that sometimes, people just won't be the target audience). Know that you'll grow and you'll learn and you'll find your own voice and like any skill, you'll develop a second nature about it--all those parts where I say "you'll know it when you see it" or "you'll feel it" absolutely come from spending a literal lifetime (28 years) writing stories, and thirteen years of writing fanfic in particular. It's ok if you don't see it or feel it right away. It takes practice. And you will have an audience at every skill level, no matter what (finding that audience? different story altogether...).

All totaled, this process can take anywhere from 3months to over a year. Stories are like children, I've found: they each develop at their own pace, and some may need more time and assistance than others. But they're still pretty wonderful. (except the bratty stories. they're the worst 🙄)

[loverontheleft]

Long anon has thoughts and I’m here to reply but also I’m fucking wasted

Okay, different anon, but I love giving unsolicited advice (joking, joking... kind of), so I had to chime in. Plus I think I’ve read RtL like 2 or 3 times in full now (way more if you count all the times I’ve read a chapter because of the sex scene and then just kept reading after that), so I’m very invested. God you’re better than me. I didn’t mind chapter 30. It wasn’t my personal favorite scene (that’s just really not my jam, if I wanna revel in the angst, I prefer the later chapters), but with some tweaks I do think it was a good addition. Like, it did give the relationship a little more, I’m not sure if this is the right word, respectability? Realism? Weight? It showed that they’re not just clouded by lust or the honeymoon phase. Which is where I get into the conflict of fanfic imagine writing vs fiction writing. Most fanfic readers seem like they don’t want the plot and the character growth and the realism. The point is fantasy. I can do that short-term, but in a long-haul series like this…angst is necessary. Tension is necessary. Their relationship doesn’t exist in this perfect little bubble, it’s “perfect” because they’re really compatible, and that’s even more important than love in a longterm relationship. It showcased how much Brendon is devoted to his work, which is one of the reasons the reader loves him, but it has the real possibility of causing real issues that they need to address and work through. Now, again, it needs a little work. I don’t love that B basically accused the reader of being intentionally malicious, and I also don’t love that she was more of the victim rather than it being a two-way conflict. I think it could’ve had more of a build-up (I know you said you sort of wrote this without a plan so it makes sense that the build-up wasn’t as much as I think it needed to be, but, hey, that’s the beauty of rewriting it.) and oh rewriting it will be a thing eventually. Like she doesn’t love that he’s overworking and she brings it up a few times throughout like 3 to 5 chapters before nationals, and it sort of gradually goes from the reader going, “hey I think your hyperfocus on your job is starting to affect both your quality of life and our relationship” (obviously in a way that’s more writer-y and less information dump-y lol) to “I’m starting to feel like a toy you play with when you’re interested and completely ignore when you have homework.” And then Brendon’s responses starting at, “oh I’m sorry, babe, I’ll manage my time a bit better,” all the way to, “why don’t can’t you respect my career?” Then in chapter 30, it all comes to a head and they full on fight instead of the previous semi-passive-aggressive communication they had before. I like you; you understand what my brain is trying to do with this rewrite.

ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, as much I think fighting and arguing can be healthy and necessary, I HATED the fight in chapter 19 (at least I think it’s 19. The one where he’s like, “just talk to him, you’re being crazy”). No it’s totally bullshit I hate it too; even writing it I was like ughhhh. I love your work and I don’t want to be rude, but this is just how I feel about one chapter in an otherwise beloved series. It’s not rude; that was jammed in there for the plot and god I hated it then and I hate it now it’s just bad writing. It’s that I just think it was so out of character, for both of them to some extent, but especially Brendon it was. Maybe it’s just the reader projecting her ex onto Brendon when she’s feeling distressed, so that’s why he seems SO different from the way he was in previous chapters (hell, even earlier in that chapter no it took a sharp left turn it’s a bad chapter) and than every other chapter afterward which okay can we agree Chapters 18-26 are whaaaat is happening and 27-31 are ?? and 32 is steamy forgiveness and then 33-36 are smut but so little plot and…oh god I have so much to rewrite I’m gonna cry but he’s so fiercely passionate and protective over, not just the reader, but sort of everything that he cares enough to invest time into (teaching, music, the reader, lovemaking 😏😂, etc.) that don’t think he would’ve proposed talking to the ex at all, much less become all cold and calculating and downright rude when talking to her. I almost think it would be more realistic if she said, offhandedly, “maybe I’ll just talk to him, try to get rid of him, give him some money, I just want this over with,” and Brendon AT THAT POINT would be like, “no absolutely not, you’re being crazy/irrational .” And then it would turn into a big fight because the reader not only feels condescended and invalidated, she’s starting to feel controlled and smothered, which in conjunction with all the feelings that have been brought up with the ex in town, makes her feel like she just needs to get away from B. I guess that wouldn’t have the same effect later on at the end with the lockdown drill which I really want to cut, good lord Cece it was so extra wtf (full disclosure: at the time of writing, the school where I was a teacher had an active shooter in the area but not on campus, so I was probably processing that?? See my note below about writing as therapy), but it would still kind of work. Instead of B realizing that the reader was right about the ex, it would be the reader realizing that B really just cares for her wants what’s best for her, and ofc B would have to apologize for saying that the reader’s crazy because that’s sooo shitty. Actually, now that I think about it, that might be more effective. Other than that one argument, there wasn’t a big question of whether or not B respected the reader and her judgment, but with the ex showing up, the reader was getting scared about being in another serious relationship and being so dependent on someone else oh definitely. Doesn’t help I was using writing as my therapy since I was very out of a mentally abusive six-year relationship. I just peppered in my own trauma left and right (drunk Cece put left and write at first lmao) and left the characters to figure it out and that’s not fair to y’all so it would be much better narratively to confirm to the reader that she can trust Brendon and that he cares for her even if he messes up rather than to just have an argument that gets resolved. Which would work too if it weren’t for the fact that the characters and dialogue were so off, just maybe not quite as well. Lots of changes to be made; you’re not wrong.

Okay, I’m sorry for talking your figurative ears off omg no I love it this is a craft revision and I’m so here for it. Feel free to say I’m way overstepping because, well, I am, but I’m a fan okay!!! Idk if you’re overstepping I’m too drunk but I don’t deserve fans I’m crying yall are so wonderful And I overthink EVERYTHING, so there’s that too haha same though. These are just things to consider and jumping off points, so don’t let it change whatever you have planned. I’m sure it’ll be great, and frankly, I mostly read for the smut anyway so I don’t know why I’m so invested in the plot LMAO this is why I’m worried about Dulce being a slow burn y’all just want the smuuuut and @beautiful-tragic-fallout can tell you there’s a huge difference between my fanfic writing and my fiction writing though you’d think they’d be similar. Maybe I’ll just write it as a novel, never post it here, hope it sells, and one day y’all can be like “this book plot sounds familiar… I remember this slut who wrote a bunch on tumbl—wait, is this author actually Cece?!?” Because, reminder, Cece is an abbreviation of my second middle name and very few people actually know it at all and my published fiction writing isn’t under Cece (I’m mostly joking, but really, as long as the porn’s good, you could write anything well, thank you.) I’m sure this whole ask is riddled with typos and forgotten words and bad grammar (brevity has never been my strength), so I’d also like to apologize for all that. Listen I’m so drunk right now…I didn’t even notice. And my responses probably are too.

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 2

Author : @coffeegleek​ 

Share one of your strengths.

Humor, even if I'm the only one who's laughing. There's a reason I have the often used tag, "Sometimes I think I'm funny." :)

Share one of your weaknesses.

Redundancy. I try so damn hard not to repeat words, phrases, and sentences yet they always sneak in.

Which fic has been the hardest to write?

A Nest of Scars because it terrified me to put it out into the world. I both wanted to tell Kurt's origin story of his time in juvie, yet was/am still afraid I would attract haters and pedos. I held onto it for a year before publishing it. It doesn't have much traction at all and most of me is okay with that. I wrote it because I wanted to expand more on why Kurt acts the way he does in Empty Nest and Rebuilding the Nest. I also wanted to tell about the RL horrors that are happening to POC kids in the U.S. It was NOT an easy fic to write emotionally. It wasn't fun to write Kurt being abused from ages 6-13. My brain wouldn't let the story go, so now it's out there and done. Once the sequel to it and a couple of one shots are written, I'm hoping to let the verse go. Of course, I said that after Rebuilding the Nest too. Another hard part of that verse is wanting to write Kurt and Blaine's much happier life after Rebuilding the Nest. I have the characters, setting, and some basics down, but never could get enough plot to turn it into a worthwhile story.

Which fic has been the easiest to write?

The crack fic one shots, whose names escape me. The Hallmark Christmas fics have been a blast. The only challenge to A Very Hallmark Christmas was when I started spiraling into more Kurt angst than I'd wanted for the verse and had to pull myself out of it. Writing A Soulmate for Santa Claus, the movie Kurt and Blaine were filming during A Very Hallmark Christmas, and the commercials that aired during the movie were a joy. It's why I want to get back to the verse.

Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

A true passion. I've been writing my entire life and have totes full of my work from childhood to now. It's a life long dream to have my original sci-fi novel published. I worked on it on and off for nearly twenty years; the last major overhaul was finalized a few years ago.

Is there an episode or character or arc above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Burt's deep love for Kurt. As the parent of a gay son who ended up with PTSD due to homophobic and racist bullying, harassment, and assault it's a relationship I deeply relate to. I also relate to Kurt being an outsider who tries his best to rise above it all. Carole is a wonderful, relatable parent figure too.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Write the fics you want to read, what you love, and want to see more of.

What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

That language is changing and that I should stop complaining (in private or on posts about grammar) about people not using pronouns in their fics. Yes, language changes over time, but in this time, Kurt should not reach over to Kurt's dresser to pull out Kurt's lube and condoms.

If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

A Very Hallmark Christmas. It would be such a humorous delight with just a bit of relevant angst. It has everything - two actors (Kurt and Blaine) falling in love as their characters do on screen. An obnoxious child actor (Justin Goolsby's son) who makes the other child actors cry. A frustrated production assistant (Tina) who wants to kill the director (Artie.) A famous guest star (Mercedes Jones) who sings the movie's pivotal Christmas song. The actress who is so tired of having to be super nice in her roles (Santana.) POC actors complaining about the roles they're always forced to play. The shameless product placements. I watched hundreds of hours of Hallmark Christmas movies to get the cheesy dialogue just right. I even threw some fun Burt and Carole in the end. Can you tell I shamelessly love this fic and verse? :)

What’s your process? Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order? Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines? What are the perfect writing conditions for you?

I write the scenes out of order. Or rather, I start to write from the beginning, but there always ends up being a scene or block of scenes which take place later in the story that are written in-between. I always have at least one, sometimes two, google docs of notes that accompany it. If I didn't, the fic would get way too messy with my color-coded notes. I have outlines of sorts. For A Nest of Scars, its chapters go by Kurt's age and each has a line or two of dialogue as the quote at the beginning that tells the reader what's going to happen. I had many of those outlined before and during the writing process because I was very selective about what happens to him when. I had rules set in place and the ending had already been established in the original fic, Empty Nest. 

With A Very Hallmark Christmas and A Very Weird Christmas Adventure, each chapter was defined by the Klaine Advent words of the day. I could never keep up to a chapter a day, so often I would have chapter notes with the words and ideas for them. 

Perfect writing conditions - living room couch (where I essentially eat, sleep, and live as it's "my space" within the house,) a blanket and laptop on my lap, pillows comforting my back, lights off, cup of coffee on the coffee table, and the TV on to something I only half want to watch with the sound off and the remote at the ready in case I glance over and want to take a break from writing. Sometimes I'll have a song that I'll play on repeat if it's helping me to write a scene. (I do this a lot when writing original work; less so with Klaine fanfic.)

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

A Very Hallmark Christmas - Semi-famous actor!Kurt and semi-famous actor!Blaine work the Hallmark Christmas Movie circuit in true B-actor form. Though they’ve worked on the same movies before, this time they land roles that could change their lives forever. Mostly happy fluff, but has some angst. This is Hallmark, so of course it has a happy ending. Many of my favorite tropes have been included: badboy!Kurt who really has a heart of gold and sweetness, famous!Kurt, famous!Blaine, actor!Kurt, actor!Blaine, soulmates, soulmarks, AU Glee, angst with a happy ending, and fluff. There’s also a heavy dose of cheesy Hallmark Christmas Movie writing in both the script and commercials. In true AU form, canon characters abound in various non-canon roles.

Originally this was my Klaine Advent 2018 fic that I brain froze on and knew was confusing because the first 2 chapters were stand-alone, random one shots before I got the idea in chapter 3 for a whole verse. So this is that Hallmark story verse only reworked to make it better and stand on its own. All of the Advent words are included in this fic.

A Soulmate for Santa Claus -  This is the movie, A Soulmate for Santa Claus, that was being filmed in the Kurt/Blaine fic, A Very Hallmark Christmas. It includes the commercials that were being filmed as well. New material is included.

A Very Weird Christmas Adventure - A crack fic of fun and all the tropes that continues after A Very Hallmark Christmas. You don't have to have read the original fic, but it helps.

[spicy-ryls]

Ranty TROS stuff below. I wrote this on and off days so it might sound disconnected but yeah. Sorry it’s kinda long and my spelling and grammar might not be the best but I just wanted to let my feelings out.

I’m still trying to accept this movie. I watched it on the night of 19 December, the premier date for Malaysia, and I still remember my visceral feeling towards this movie. I remember feeling so empty, baffled, sad and shocked, almost like I just lost a relative or one of my cats, and I’ve experienced that multiple times in my life and it sucks.

Sometimes I think, how could I be so attached to this trilogy? I’ve literally spent so much energy defending TLJ and the ST from the backlash in the local fandom to the point where I couldn’t stand it anymore and I removed myself from the local fanbase as much as I could. But I’ve never felt so betrayed and almost embarassed that I was so invested into it.

I never grew up with Star Wars. Instead, I started watching TFA while I was in that age period between 19-20. I was a little shit and I was still adjsuting to adulthood, so it pretty much was almost like in the process of being born again as an adult. At the time I was making a series of webcomics under the title ‘Gods Among Men’ and I was pretty much drawing almost exclusively Hades/Persephone stuff and I was drawing Hades as this typical tall, dark & handsome guy. At some point, my friends and I just joked at how much I loved that trope that’s it’s like my type in fictional guys, and yes I still love it.

So my friends just said to me “hey, watch the new Star Wars, you’ll love it!”

And I was HOOKED.

I got so into it. I watched all of the other movies, even the Christmas Special. And I loved the character of Kylo Ren so much. Initially I wasn’t instantly into Reylo. But after some fanart or fanfic or two I fell down the rabbit hole of this ship that I loved so much and the two characters of Rey and Kylo/Ben whom I had such a strong connection to.

Q4 of 2017 was the best year for me as a fan of this franchise. I was so excited for TLJ. I was super involved in a lot of local Star Wars related stuff and at that point people just knew me as “That Rey (cosplayer) who liked Reylo and Kylo Ren a lot”. I had made many friends and acquaintances over the year. And then TLJ came.

And the community was divided.

A lot of male fans I knew were so enraged by the movie. “TLJ ruined my childhood!!” they shouted on their facebook wall. “RJ and KK ruined Star Wars” they yelled. It just cemented the Star Wars Fanboy trope so badly that it was laughable that grown men 3 times my age with family AND KIDS were yelling about it for TWO WHOLE YEARS and because I was the one publicly championing the ST, all they talked about to me was about how much they hated it, and it’s still brought on in passing conversation to this day. I hated having to meet these people at events because my encounters are always unpleasant.

Time passed. The Reylo community was prosperous and it really was a golden age of content. We were excited to see how the ending of a saga was going to be, with a definitive Ben Solo redemption and Reylo being canon. And then came the announcement of JJ returning to direct Episode IX. I instantly had a gut feeling that it was not gonna be good, but I will hold my trust to him since he directed TFA. BOY I WAS WRONG.

The TROS panel at SWCC ended in a somewhat hopeful note. Later in the year, interviews were being published, and in the beginning it was all fine and dandy. I can’t remember when the news of reshoots started popping out, but even then I gave them the benefit of the doubt that because this movie was going to tie in all of the other 8 movies and surely they had to do something right about it. Then came in a lot of red flags in merchandising, marketing, cast interviews, etc. Daisy’s and John’s infamous interview felt so OOC for me that I couldn’t believe what I was reading. And at this point, my hopes were very low. I felt something was very off in everything and I was almost inactive of soc med or any TROS news because I wanted to watch the movie with no outside influences. I didn’t even read any leaks and only heard about it in passing.

Then came the week of the premier. I was putting my expectations super low. I just thought of all the bad things that could happen like Rey Palpatine or Kylo/Ben dying and I went into it with that thought. Before the movie, I had to sort of minggle with the crowd of a private screening event as Rey. But I just had so much anxiety before I could even get in costume to the point where I did cry. And it didn’t help that some of the other cosplayers and minders had already seen the movie the previous day and were having borderline spoilery conversations, which did upset me further. Eventually I calmed down enough, but I was still feeling a little down. It sort of helped that the attendees who are usually normal people are usually the kind to take pictures with the more masked or sith-looking guys or my friend who was masked Kylo so I could usually be left alone.

And finally, it was time to watch the movie and I can still remember how dumb I was for thinking this movie was going to be smart. There was just too much going on and I was so in shock of how poorly written, edited and directed it was. There was hardly any cheer or gasps in my cinema throughout the whole thing, although there were one or two who tried to whoop at the Lucasfilm logo but they kept quiet for the rest of it too. It was such a different experience from the one I had of my first TLJ screening. 80% of the time I just had a blank expression on my face and the only time I sort of got excited for were the Rey and Kylo/Ben scenes, except that ending. I really did not like this movie. I did not feel hopeful at all and the ending the just felt so off. I was relieved to see that I was not the only one who thought of it that way.

This movie effected me so much that I had trouble sleeping, loss of apetite, loss of focus and random bouts of crying in my car for how hollow I felt for about a week+. There was a huge convention on the same weekend and everyone who knew me pretty much came up to me and ask how I was and what I thought about the movie, and a simple glance and head shake was enough to convey how much I felt, and I just did not want to talk about it on a busy con day. But after a busy con weekend, I went in full force on venting it out on Twitter and finding myself in discord support groups and I’m glad I was not alone.

Now it’s been 11 days since I’ve watched TROS and I’ve sort of clamed down from being mad about it. But I don’t think I could accept an ending to a saga for how botched it was which stemmed from fan pandering and corporate greed. But I have never been so proud to be in the Reylo community, who are tirelessly finding concrete evidence on how badly edited it was and just how messy things were behind the scenes. I’m glad to have met all of you and even befriend some thanks to this ship and our love for Rey and Ben Solo and every character in the saga. I am very saddened at how badly treated every character was from Rey to Leia and everyone in between, but it’s not going to stop us from creating good fan content and what we’ve had so far is incredible.

Stay strong and save what we love. ❤

[tipsyreads-female]

Soft & Shy [Review]

Fanfiction: Soft & Shy

Author: @salvejoon

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Smut

- Spoiler Warning! -

(read further under the cut when you're fine with spoilers or after you've read the fanfic) 

Firstly want to say, this here will be a pretty messy review and I'll randomly talk about everything and will probably not have any kind of structure and you have to deal with a messy pile of words, memes, emojis that should somehow express my feelings. 😂😅💕

Secondly, English is not my native language, it's my second language and even when I think I'm not THAT BAD anymore... to learn new languages is a real struggle for me. Especially when I'm exited and hyped, I throw almost all my knowledge about the English sentence structure and grammar out of the window and create a grammatical disasters of joy and exitement. Please don't hate me for that... (why I apologize even you are not a native as well: Because your fic is an amazing writing and no joke, I thought at first that you're a native! 🙈😘❤)

Okay okay okay, let's start talking about the actual fanfic!

I want to say thank you, Iggy.

Thank you that you liked my Namjoon-Post yesterday.

Why?

Because I have the habit to stalk peoples blogs when they likes something on my blog. I'm just a little curiouuuus... 🙈👉🏻👈🏻💕

Yeah, then I went to your blog looking around like I always do and what chatched my eye????

Yep, you're correct, it was your fic Soft & Shy which you pinned as the first visible post on your blog.

No joke, literally the Title of your fic and the banner with our sweetest Boy Jungkook made my heart beat faster and let me lowkey squeal. 'That looks like a fic that Tipsy seems like to read~'

...but then I read further, read the formals of the fic and the short summary... Omg Girl... that's not "formals list".

THIS HERE IS TIPSY'S WISH LIST FOR A FIC WITH JEON JUNGKOOK! 😭😍💕💕

No joke, you can imagine Tipsy reacting like this just reading the formals of the fic! 😭💕

Shy and inexperienced Jungkookie Boi?? Grinding and Dry Humping??? Soft subby Googie and dommy Reader undertones????

SIGN ME THE FUCK UP FOR THAT!!! 😭🤧🤤💕

Why the frick did I just found now your fic and not already earlier?!?! But at the same moment I'm just so thankful that you liked my post, so I could find this amazing fic at all!

Really, I enjoyed a lot to read this fic!

Especially how you switch from the present to the past and then back again. I really like this method to write about their backstory, so you didn't have a huge "backstory block" before you switch back to the present time where you almost forgot the scenery the characters were in... (I tend to write such huge backstory blocks... 😅 that's why I love your own method so much!)

...and omg fuck... the way you characterized Jungkook... nghhhh, fuck you made my inner Dom so damn feral Iggy!!!😭💕

How shy and cute he is, how fast he gets flustered... and whenever he calls the Reader "Noona" and then later, even whine it... FUCK! That made my abdomen clench so hard!😭💕

AND THE WAY HE'S ON ONE HAND A SHY AND SUPER FLUSTERED BABY BUT ON THE OTHER HAND SO DAMN NEEDY AND JUST WANT IT SO BADLY... I MEAN THE CHANGE OF HIS BEHAVIOUR IN THE CLUB... AT FIRST TOO SHY TO TELL HER THAT SHE LOOKS HOT BUT THEN GRABBING HER AND PRESSING HER AGAINST YOUR BODY AND MAKING HER RIDING HIS THIGH???

...AND YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT THIGHS WHERE TALKING!

THESE THIGHS!

(When my Pinterest pops up with "Tipsy, we have some new Ideas you could like" and show me THIS. Yep, it's official, my Pinterest knows that I'm a naughty Girl.)

Really... I have such a thing for shy boys and grinding/dry humping (hot and heavy make out sessions are the best ones!)... plus when they're inexperienced, even say that they're turned on my dominant womens...

I WANT TO THROW MYSELF ON SUCH BOYS, NGHHHH!!

At the talk scenery where Gookie confess her that he never had done it before... I really wanted to jump at him, telling him that this is absolutely fine, that this is actually super hot and that I'll take so much time with him as he need, smother his face in thousand kisses and show him how hot and attractive he is nevertheless! (... and lowkey wanna make him cum in his pants while dry humping) 😭😭😭🤧🤧💕💕💕💕

(You maybe see... I'm a hoe for such stuff!🙈😅❤)

...casual soft Sex with a whining and begging Gookie... with a whining and begging big dick Junggookie Boi...

Please Iggy, explain to me why I'm such a big hoe for that?!😭💕 And why do you make my horny dom hoe so damn feral?!

But really, the ending scene made me smile! 😭🤧💕 (This one here!):

(Screenshot by Tipsydipsydo) | Soft & Shy | © salvejoon

"I want to make love to my girlfriend!"

I SQUEALED SO HARD, THAT WAS UNHEALTHY! 🤧💕

I'M TOTALLY FINE! ABSOLUTELY TOTALLY FINE! 😭😭😭💕💕💕

...but after I calmed down, I start giggling...

I AGREE, GOOGIE IS TOTALLY A STAMINA BOY! ALWAYS UP FOR A SECOND ROUND!🤪🤪💦💦💗💗

(Screenshot by Tipsydipsydo) | BTS Kink Scenario | © Tipsydipsydo

I mean, I think we both have there some things in common Babyyy~ 🤪

No, really (I know, I use "really" a lot in here xD), I love this fic so much AND I CAN'T BELIEVE IT THAT IT DOESN'T NOT 100 NOTES UNTIL NOW, IT'S SO LOVEWLY AMD CUTE WRITTEN, YOU DESERVE SO MUCH MORE LOVE AMD APPRECIATION FOR IT! 😡😡😡💗💗💗

WE WILL WORK ON THAT, AFTER I FINISHED WRITING THIS HERE AND REBLOGGING IT IN MY FIC-RECS, I'LL FORCE MY FOLLOWERS ON MY WRITING BLOG TO READ IT TOO! 😡😡😘😘❤❤

YOU. DESERVE. THAT!

*caaaaalm down Tipsyyyyyy*

I loved to read it and someday, I'll re-read it for sure again!

Send you so much love and a virtual hug! 🤗 (stay safe during this time!😷💕)

I wish you a nice and lovely day/night (what time zone you have~) and I really love your Writings! 🤗📝💕💕💕

Your Tipsy! 💜

[hashtag-amf]

Welcome to my Tumblr blog. Here I will give my honest opinions and pour out my thoughts about the ideas behind my Wattpad books. You can take inspiration from this blog when you are planning to write a novel. I wanted to write a separate Wattpad book where I could talk about this. But I then decided that I wanted to reach a wider audience, and Tumblr was better suited for this purpose.

Please note: This will be posted in parts every Friday!

Edited by @wayward-heronstairs , @hashtag-amf and Hemingway Editor

I started my Wattpad journey in May 2016. I was staying at my cousin’s house, and she asked me whether I knew about the app called Wattpad. I had never heard the name before. It was such an odd name for an app, I thought to myself. I was not interested in downloading the app because reading didn't appeal to so much. A few hours later, I downloaded Wattpad. Yay.

Then came the shocker. I got my first follower. A thin guy with spectacles. I was nervous because I had never been on a social media platform before. I didn't know what to do. I was staring at his profile pic, wondering if he was a psychopath or just crazy enough to follow me on Wattpad. I am anxious like that. I wondered how on earth did he find my account within six hours as I had not posted any stories on Wattpad yet.

The first book I read on Wattpad was fanfic about 'The Fault in Our Stars.' At that time, I had no idea what fanfic was. I picked that book to read because I had watched TFIOS twice now. Unfortunately, I didn't like the fanfic, so I uninstalled the app the same night.

Then came December of 2016. It was the Christmas holidays, and I was very tired of studying. I owned that crappy Nokia XL neon green phone. Urgh, that stock Android phone was a nightmare. I downloaded Wattpad and looked for some good books to read. At that time, Midika Crane’s books were a huge hit. Her books had those dark black and white covers were guys with eight pack abs stared out of the cover at the reader. At first, I hated the cover because I thought she hadn't done a great job of selecting a good cover for the book. I remember clicking on 'Alpha Kaden', a currently published novel. I had spent half an hour on one page trying to decipher what was written. Halfway through the Prologue and I couldn't read more. Her professional level of writing was not understandable by me.

When I was halfway done with Midika’s book, I added ‘She’s With Me’ by Ava Violet to my Wattpad reading list. It was such an amazing book. I loved reading it. It was about Amelia who was running away from her past. She had enrolled herself in the school. I don’t remember the name because I read it a long time back) and she meets the heartthrob of the school and his friends. The story was like a cliché romance novel but what stood out was Amelia’s back story.

After reading more than 90 books on Wattpad I decided to make a writing debut on Wattpad. I spent more time reading Wattpad books than studying. I would read Wattpad books in the canteen, the student's study room, at home when my mom wasn't watching. It was addicting. In 2017, the first book I wrote was a fanfic of Hellboy, the 2004 film. I never imagined myself writing fanfiction about a movie I was so scared to watch. As a child, I was so terrified of that movie that the moment I saw Hellboy on the screen, I would look away in fear. All that I remember as a kid was the scene from the second installment of the movie 'The Golden Army'. He was holding twin infants wrapped in a white blanket. There was some sort of fantasy creatures running around the street. Hellboy was spot on with his aim, that she shot them with his gun.

Then in May 2014, I got a chance to watch Hellboy on the television again. As a teenager, I wasn't scared of him anymore, but I was more intrigued by it. I loved that movie so much that I had a crush on John Myers (Rupert Evans). He was 'the dude that didn't get the girl', you know. I empathized with him as he took so much trouble by fighting alongside Hellboy. He deserved more.

Later in the movie, the professor tells John that he is dying, and Hellboy needs someone in his absence. In the movie, Hellboy treated Myers like trash. He is more of a nanny and less of an FBI Agent. And because of this, Myers tells the professor that he cannot stay at the BRDP any longer. The professor tells him that he chose him for a reason as he saw potential in Myers. He adds that in many medieval stories there is a white night and Myers was that. He tells him to take care of Hellboy after he passes away.

Another reason why I felt like writing fanfic was that Myers and Liz's chemistry was so adorable. He tried his best to flirt with Liz (Selma Blair). I hoped that he and Liz ended up as a couple. But Hollywood movies are unkind to side actors. So, when Hellboy got the girl, my heart dropped. My heart couldn't handle it. I was screaming at this heartbreaking injustice. I was like, this man needs a girl. I had to make a way to help him get the girl so that I didn't have this heaviness building inside me.

Above: Rupert Evans as John Myers in Hellboy (2004)

And thanks to being a Wattpad writer, I came up with my own story. I named it Hellboy 3. The reason for keeping this title was because of Hellboy: The Golden Army released in 2008. I didn’t want to confuse readers about which Hellboy movie the fanfic was about. I researched Wikipedia thinking that Rupert Evans had reprised his role as John Myers in it, but I was wrong. As per Wikipedia reports, Evans was filming ‘The Kiss of a Spiderwoman’ so he couldn’t be a part of the movie.

Writing the fanfic was challenging. I was stumbling through the dialogues and the scenes. I thought that this will not get more than 20 chapters, but if I am not wrong, it surpassed 20 chapters. The story got some likes, some encouraging comments, but then I was not happy with my writing. I deleted it.

In 2017-ish, I wrote another story about vampires. I wrote down the story on one of the leftover books I had in my drawer. I had a good time writing it as it was one of my original stories. I made my original characters, a mythical place cursed by time. I named it ‘The Kingsmen’. Then after I had filled half of the pages by writing, I decided it was time to edit. I posted it on Wattpad. I published the chapters with no updating schedule. After surpassing fifteen chapters, I deleted the book because the grammar was awful. I felt I was adding unnecessary commas after the dialogues. I didn't have someone to edit the story, and I also had this nagging suspicion that my mom knew I wasn't studying. I hated college because I would get tired, and the studies bored me to the core. I studied for the heck of it. Everything was fine when one fine day, I forgot the password to my Wattpad account.

It was hell on earth. Panic rose within me. It was like the end of the world was near. I tried to calm myself down. I had to remember the password. I felt that I was such a miserable person for forgetting a simple thing as a password. I tried password recovery. I scourged my Gmail account for the recovery link, but Wattpad wasn't sending the link. At that time, Wattpad was super slow when it came to sending recovery links for passwords. I remember Wattpad sent me recovery passwords five hours later. Wattpaders know that logging via recovery link is time-sensitive. When I clicked the link, Wattpad said that the link wasn't valid. I did this three times till my patience wore me out.

I was devastated. I had put so much of my heart and soul while writing that book. It was my baby, and now the account was gone….I didn't cry. Thank God I didn't cry. I was sad. It felt like someone took a piece of my heart away from me and didn't return it.

This is how it looked:

In January 2018, I made a new account on Wattpad. Now I have written down all the passwords in a notebook, not going to repeat the mistake.

Okay! This was the end of part one. Tell me how you liked it!!

By the way, I got the chance to watch Hellboy (2004) on the television today. John Myers is such a cutie!! Please check my latest IG highlights for the video. I cannot embedded the video on Tumblr :(