#a couple of snippets really - I'll probably build off of this later

[nocentis]

Reforged┆x791

╳┆The ground beneath them groaned, preceding its shift by mere moments. He prepared to leap from one platform to the next, but his borrowed attire got the better of him and he sorely undershot the landing. The ledge scraped him from shin to chest on his downward plummet, arms just barely catching the platform before he managed to sink toward oblivion.

As he began dragging himself toward safety, fighting the rotation of the still-turning maze, he felt someone grab his wrist and hoist him to relative safety.

“Stay on yer feet,” Gajeel snapped, irritation laden in both face and voice, “If yer gonna be embarrassing, do it away from me.”

“Right,” he agreed, just barely managing to suppress his mortification. Only the first event and he was already making a mess of things. Not using his own magic was going to be even more of a challenge than he'd already anticipated.

Blasted pants. It’s hard to believe there is any alternate version of himself that would wear these gravity defying monstrosities.

Belatedly, he tossed out an underbreath, "Appreciate it," as they turned to catch up with the others, who had taken the shifting map into stride and carried on without missing a beat.

Gajeel grumbled back, "Don't mention it."

╳┆As the third day's events began and the stadium came abuzz, he found his window to slip away unnoticed. The past few nights of aimless roaming about, catching whispers of that sour presence on the wind, have yet to bear fruit. All that time wasted was compounding; it made his bones itch. He hadn't attended these games on holiday — hadn't broken the rules and risked Fairy Tail's elimination just to suffer a humiliating forfeit and then sulk in the stands. No, there was something evil lurking about, and he fully intended to find it.

"They went that way."

Despite his prickly countenance, Gajeel seemed adept at sneaking about. Jellal barely heard him approach before he'd issued his offhand comment, pointing in the opposite direction in which Jellal originally intended to go.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Gajeel cut him off to explain, "They stink."

Jellal nodded, remembering the reaction he received upon his last expression of gratitude, and shifted his stride accordingly. "Tell me how the day goes."

"Nah," Gajeel called behind him, "I ain't yer fuckin' parrot."

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[littlesparklight]

I'm indulging with an OT3 Mermay AU I'll post later, but I'll either want to get further or finish before I start to post. So, for now, call this an intro snippet?

"Is that a dolphin?"

Turning around to where Helen was looking off to the right, Menelaos squinted. Something large had ended up beached along the surf.

"It's too long and… snakey? for a dolphin, isn't it? A large squid?"

Not that he'd heard of dead giant squid washing up on beaches in the Mediterranean.

"Let's have a look," Helen proclaimed and immediately went to pick her way down the rocks.

Groaning, Menelaos still followed his wife, though what they could even do, he didn't know. If it was a stranded dolphin - which he still doubted - they might be able to get it out deep enough themselves, otherwise they'd need to go back and make a call. If it wasn't… he wasn't sure what else it could be.

"Oarfish?" Menelaos called after Helen, who threw a hand up and he chuckled - he could very easily imagine her scoff.

"There are no oarfish or giant squid in these waters!" she called, exasperated. "Swordfish, maybe?"

Maybe. It might be about the right size for that, and maybe the build was right. It still looked too… sinuous, but that might just be the distance. And if it was a swordfish, it'd already be dead. Which would make it all the easier for them, since then they could just leave it behind, compared to a living dolphin that might yet be saved with a bit of effort and attention.

"Probably--- Helen?" Menelaos called, surprised when she slowed to a stop some distance away from the fish. "What--- is it."

Menelaos, having caught up, stopped as well, the sand and gravel shifting with a soft, sliding crunch under his unsteady weight.

It wasn't a swordfish.

Or an oarfish or a small giant squid, either, for that matter. In fact, either of those two options would have made more sense, been more realistic, than what was laying in the red-tinted surf, the sand below washed clean of the blood still pumping out of a long gash down the side of that long, sinuous tail they'd noted earlier with every breaking wave.

"Are you seeing this?" Helen asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

Her hand closed about his, clutching hard and even her rather short nails digging into his flesh. Menelaos found no voice to protest the pinching pain, busy gaping, instead. This couldn't be right. He was sure--- But blinking changed nothing; the figure a couple meters away was still there. Breathing, certainly, and it wasn't that it was impossible to make a puppet or animatronic as lifelike as what they were looking at, Menelaos was sure, but the skin that gleamed under the sun was not plastic, nor silicone. The longer they stood there, the more, not less, real the thing looked.

"If you mean, am I seeing a mermaid? Then yes."

It - she? - was turned away from them, so all they were currently seeing was a wet, sand-encrusted back with some rather fine musculature and long, long curls that were pale in the sun, but might have been some shade of pale brown and not dark blonde. There were also a small pair of curving horns, like cow horns, perhaps, and it almost seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite decide why. If the mermaid had been laying lower in the the water, she might have looked like an unconscious human at first blush, the transition between human torso and fish-like tail hidden among the swell.

But the mermaid was lying high up, the waves washing up barely wetting her hips at the highest. There was no denying the gleam of scattered scales about the hips that clustered into fully covering everything, no denying the long, long tail, muscular but sleek, the scales in shimmering blue-greens and a twisting, delicate pattern of pearlescent white. It didn't really look like any fish tail Menelaos had ever seen - more snake-like, like he'd first thought, than fish-like, despite the very much fish-like scales and fins.

And then there was the wound snaking itself partway down the tail, revealing pink flesh underneath instead of a fish's white meat. Boat propeller, probably. A wound like any poor dolphin might be struck by, but this was no dolphin, and the mundanity of the injury compared to what was injured almost choked a laugh out of him.

"We have to do something," Helen proclaimed, a bare glance his way before she surged forward.

"Helen, wait!"

Menelaos let himself be pulled along, however. What were they supposed to do? Leave? Let someone else find the… the mermaid? Make an emergency call? Laughable. He just wasn't sure what they were going to, or could even, do, if they didn't do any of those things.

"Here, help me---"

Helen had barely brushed a surprisingly strong-looking shoulder when the mermaid - merman, rather - surged up, twisting away from them as he twisted around, shaking and pale-faced. He was flat as a board, if sleekly so, and had an Adam's apple, so definitely male. Even if, as Menelaos glanced down with embarrassing quickness while reflexively steadying Helen so she didn't fall on her ass, the merman was also flat below. But as fish-like as he was below the hips, maybe he just didn't---

Menelaos shook his head, ashamed and awkward. Knelt down on reflex and held his hand out.

"You need help," he said, keeping his voice soft and even.

Because that much was clear. The wound was still bleeding, if only sluggishly, and at this point that was probably a cause for alarm rather than relief; it was no small wound, and the merman was clearly struggling holding himself up. Maybe this would be a very short-lived rescue, but that frankly made the idea of standing up and leaving even less attractive. They couldn't just walk away.

"We will help you," Helen insisted quietly, her voice dipping into a deep, soothing hum. "If you let us."

[faarkas]

hilary show me the forbidden content of the fwb valenzo fic, i need it NOW 🤲

rules: post the barebones plot of your wips and let people send you an ask with the title that intrigues them the most and then post a snippet/tell them something about it! post

@arklay @morvaris

OHHHH RENA, LEAH, AND NICO,,,, Pandora’s box u have opened :/ I’ll give like. three chunks since the three of u asked but be warned…..ITS CRINGE

ANYWAY. I give you some of the beginning of the date, after the date, and them on his couch. Its almost 3k. Some nsft ish stuff under the cut. no smut but they do be getting kinda frisky. also they're a lil tipsy. c'est la vie. If any of you actually make it through any of this and don't immediately regret it I'll owe you a life debt

Also so far the plot is: Val gets ready to go on a date, is a lil nervous, calls Lorenzo for advice and like the absolute well-meaning dumbass he is he suggests he bring his date and they go on a double date. Their dates end up TOTALLY wrong for them and actually better suited for each other (stupid corpo financial dudebro who comes back up later and a very shallow model. not to rely on stereotypes or anything. also she has the same color eyes as val just so u can laugh with me.) and they end up like, making out with each other in the corner of the restaurant. And then valenzo leaves and hooks up AHSKDKAJ and agree to the whole fwb arrangement ™️ BUT THEN. Val’s dad shows up (very bad no good man) and is like pwease help me i’m so pathetic and she reluctantly agrees. And that’s where we’re at now but there’s hijinks and there’s going to be a lil love triangle moment and it’s just. Listen if u wanna know more u should probably dm me at this point it’s so convoluted but also not AGDJFKWBK

The air is still warm, golden light painting the sides of the buildings as the sun starts to set, but Val can’t help but shiver a little bit as the breeze nips at her darkly nyloned legs, goosebumps forming over her skin. She’d decided on wearing some cheeky thigh highs along with everything else, the lacy band keeping them up just peeking out from under her skirt when she twists the right way and making her feel a little sexy.

It could just be the cool breeze, but it could also be the anticipation of the evening. It’s almost 7:30, and she’s outside the restaurant, trying to wait patiently for anybody to show up as the last corpos make their way past her with dead eyes and crinkled suits. She inspects her nails to distract herself, trying to resist the herculean urge to pick at the fresh coat of black polish while she ignores the dig of the skinny strap of her purse digging into her bare shoulder.

A somewhat distant call of her name pricks her ears up, looking up to see Lorenzo waving to her cheerfully from down the street, a blonde girl at his side. Val zooms in with her kiroshis as she waves back, eager to get a look of Lorenzo Date No. 493 and see if she can glean anything from her before she actually has to talk to her.

She’s really beautiful with her glowy pale purple optics and long blonde hair, honestly she really looks like she could be a model with how long her legs are, the short bodycon light blue dress she’s wearing helping to show them off. A quick scan on her reveals that her name is Erica. Of course Lorenzo would bring a very hot girl with a pretty name to her date, Val internally laments as they continue to get closer with each step.

Erica is tall too, with her heels she’s only a couple inches shorter than him. She tries to stamp down a flicker of anxiety, and another weird feeling she can’t place when Lorenzo tilts his head down to murmur something in Erica’s ear that makes her laugh, the big hand he has on her waist squeezing and pulling her closer.

He looks really good too honestly with how he’s dressed sharply in all black, not too formal but just dressy enough to be classy, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up halfway to show off his heavily tattooed forearms.

“Goddamn. Lookit you, Val. I love this skirt.“ Lorenzo says warmly when they come to a stop in front of her, casting a quick look over her outfit.

“Don’t look so bad yourself.” Val counters with a small smile, starting feeling a little awkward and self conscious in front of two hot people now, even if one of those hot people is one of her closest friends.

A beat of silence accompanies her thanks, Val trying to figure out how to introduce herself smoothly just as Lorenzo mercifully jumps into action.

“Oh god, please pardon my absolutely fuckin’ terrible manners. Erica, this is my friend Valerie. She’s the netrunner extraordinaire I’ve told you about.” He gestures to Val with the hand he doesn’t have wrapped around Erica’s waist. “Val, this is the lovely Erica. She runs in the fashion circuits, does some modeling for Avante."

Val sniffs as they start the walk to Lorenzo’s place in thoughtful silence, the rhythmic sound of her heels clicking on the sidewalk and his shuffling steps providing a weirdly comforting soundtrack.

“Hey don’t take that personally, okay?” Lorenzo says a couple minutes later when she sniffs hard, her mascara starting to burn her eyes a little.

Really, she's been holding it together really good so far. It's just the way her eyes keep tearing up is going to ruin her mascara, and her nose is starting to run, and her hands are too full to rub at either of the offending parts of her face.

The way she feels like she's just becoming more and more pathetic is painful. Her date is back there with his tongue down that models throat, and she’s doing what feels like a walk of shame to Lorenzo’s place with arms and a purse full of stolen food and alcohol, with her makeup running.

“It’s just…kinda hard not to, y’know?” She says roughly, sniffing hard again.

Like, is she really that undesirable or something? She doesn’t really think she’s the prettiest girl on the block but she does look pretty good tonight. Better than Erica, even with her mile long legs and perfect skin and–

“I know, but you didn’t do a single thing wrong. You look like a trillion bucks, Val, and you’re always a class act.” Lorenzo’s gentle words cut through her thoughts like a knife through butter.

The compliment makes her chest flutter a little bit as she looks up at him, seeing a couple very dim stars in the sky above him as they walk. Honestly, they probably aren’t even stars. More than likely just orbital stations. Still cool, but not as neat as real stars would be.

“That’s sweet of you to say, Enzo.” Val teases with a cheeky smile, thankful that it’s too dark for him to see her raccoon eyes.

Lorenzo gives her a look, quirking his brow and adjusting the hefty sushi under his arm while he brushes the back of a tattooed hand against her upper arm. “Oh, c’mon, I mean it. Don’t you ‘enzo’ me.”

She giggles, thankful that her eyes are drying up now. Though that probably won’t last for super long.

“Listen, she was fucking annoying but…I’m sorry about Erica.”

He just shrugs, looking a little defeated.

“Don’t be, it wasn’t gonna work anyway. Trips to France every year? I can only manage to get home to see my family a couple times a year, and even that can be kinda tough sometimes" He pauses for a second. "She didn’t even know what a wrench was.”

“Like… the maintenance tool?”

“The very same.”

A laugh works its way out of her before she can stop it, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting her until she can’t stop laughing, leaning into his side to keep steady when her heel slips on the concrete sidewalk and she teeters a little bit, Lorenzo’s free arm snaking out to wrap around her waist and right her before she goes down with their dinner.

“H-Hey, don’t drop the goods.” He says, amusement clear in his voice as he starts to laugh with her.

“Sorry, it’s just ridiculous. All of this is so ridiculous.” She says as her phone starts to vibrate insistently from inside of her purse. “Zuzu, can you look? My arms are full.”

“Thats better, much prefer that nickname, especially comin��� from you.” He says as he fishes into her purse for her phone, the bottles of sake jostling and clinking as he searches for it. The blue glow casting sharp shadows across his features a few seconds later.

Val throws back another shot of sake as she sniffles loudly, the starting montage of The Princess Bride and all the mushy ‘as you wish’ stuff choking her up more than it ever has before as she plucks another piece of sushi out of the boat that’s nestled securely in her lap, her legs in Lorenzo’s lap with his sushi boat resting on top of them as they lounge on his shitty old red couch. 

It’s just kind of like, when’s it going to be like this for her? When is she going to get her whirlwind romance with someone who actually cares enough about her to invent some kind of code that secretly means ‘I love you’ or just be devoted enough to love her no matter what, over years? It’s just not realistic, she knows that, but the alcohol mixing with some long starved and pushed away feelings of wanting to love and be loved that have been brought to the surface with this latest rejection are making her a little crazy. 

Val hastily swipes a hand across her eyes, shoving a few pieces of sushi into her mouth as she does in some poor attempt to disguise the movement. Lorenzo had been kind enough to let her use some of his makeup remover when they were getting all comfortable so she wouldn’t be sitting there with burn-y mascara eyes for hours, so at least she can cry in peace now, though she still doesn’t really want to bring down the mood more than it already has been. 

Lorenzo’s been uncharacteristically quiet too, just largely eating and drinking and offering a few quiet comments about the movie as they sit all tangled up together.

“Hey, you alright?” He finally breaks the silence, resting a large very warm hand on her nyloned calf and squeezing a little when she reaches for the nearest bottle of half empty sake to pour another shot. 

She’s clearly already feeling the effects and Verde warned her about drinking too much of this stuff too quickly before, so she figures this will be her last one. She’s not a big drinker anyway, so this is good enough for her. Lorenzo on the other hand, has already downed most of his bottle– He is a lot bigger than her, and usually pretty good at holding his drink, but she can see even in the dimness of his living room that he’s starting to get a little glassy eyed too.

“I’m good, I swear.” Val says, offering him a watery smile as her stomach churns a little at how unhappy and almost suffocated she’s starting to feel. Though not unhappy that she’s here, she’s never unhappy to be with Lorenzo, she’s just…tired. To the bone and spirit kind of tired and bruised.

And the alcohol that she had been hoping would loosen her up and relax her is just making her feel weepy and kinda heavy.  

“Tell it to me straight, I’ve been tryin’ to pretend not to notice you cryin’ for the last ten minutes now.” 

Val sighs, setting the half empty boat on the low table beside them in front of the couch before flopping back into the couch, settling in comfortably with the lack of springs to resist her. Maybe she is just feeling miserable enough to actually share her feelings, or it’s the safe environment, or maybe the alcohol, but she starts to spill before she can stop herself.

“It’s j-just, like– I want this kind of love. Or something. I just want someone to care about me and like…” Val trails off, feeling a little embarrassed that she’s actually voicing this. A short glance to him reveals that he’s just watching her interestedly, waiting politely for her to continue. “Like my last date before this just stood me up. I saw him walk in, look at me, and then just turn around and leave. Am I that hideous or something? I-It’s Night City, I don’t expect syn-roses and candles and some happy suburban fairytale life or anything like that, I…I don’t know. And I love my toys, don’t get me wrong, but I’m just kinda tired of relying on them and my own hands to get any kind of satisfaction… but maybe that’s just my lot. God, this is so embarrassing– I’m sorry.”  

Lorenzo pats her leg gently, and she almost thinks she can see him tearing up in the low light of the room. “Don’t gotta apologize, Val. I get it. I really get it. You deserve someone that’ll treat you right, more than anybody else in this fucked up city.”

“Oh, I dunno if I’d go that far-” 

“No no no no no, you do. You really do.” Lorenzo says so earnestly it takes her aback for a second. 

“I mean…there was absolutely no chance of any kind of real love with Chris, you saw how corpo through and through he was, I think I was just really looking forward to getting laid. It’s been so long. Ugh, that’s another TMI... I’m sorry.” 

Deciding to just be quiet, Val bites at her lip, tasting some of the waxy residue of her lipstick and lingering chemicals from the makeup remover as embarrassment starts to gnaw at her properly now, her stomach churning a little with the sudden anxiety in her gut. And Lorenzo isn’t saying anything, just looking thoughtful.

Honestly if the floor could just open up and swallow her whole right now that might be good. Or maybe she should just excuse herself and teeter her way home to bed. It’s really not far.    

“Maybe I should-” 

“We could sleep together.” Lorenzo blurts out, interrupting her, his eyes immediately widening as she looks at him with surprise, the hand he still has resting on her calf pulling away to cover his mouth instead. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I mean it’s an option, you’re fucking stunning and I’d love to make you feel good…but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable- and we’ve been drinking and I shouldn’t have said anything and, um-” 

His words are a little muffled by his hand, a terrible silence falling on them as the movie plays in the background and she tries to figure out how to react. It’s not that he’s not handsome- On the contrary, Lorenzo is gorgeous, but he’s also just… Lorenzo. She’s never really thought about him that way before. But the idea….

She won’t deny that it’s appealing, he looks and smells so good and she’s so needy that this is becoming more of a good idea the more she thinks about it. Friends sleep together sometimes, right? It’s not a big deal.

Or that’s what she tells herself as the next words leave her mouth. “I...think I’d like that.” 

The mortification still on his face melts into surprise. “Wh- Are you sure? I’m really tryin’ not to be a creep or anything.” 

“Do you want to do this?” Val asks as she picks the half emptied trays of sushi up from her lap and calves and sets them on the table with the sake.

“Yeah, I mean I feel kinda responsible for you not getting laid tonight, and I’ve got hands and a mouth and a working dick. It’d be my pleasure.” He says earnestly and Val adjusts herself, sliding her legs out of his lap so she can crawl into it instead, her heart thumping in her ears.   

Lorenzo looks up at her, his optics glowing in the low light of the room, the light from the TV highlighting his profile handsomely as his hands move to rest on her waist, and the skin exposed from her crop top. They’re so warm, and oh god they so big they almost encircle her entire waist. 

Bolstered by the liquid courage now, the feel of his hands on her waist, and the way Lorenzo is gazing at her like she’s responsible for hanging the stars in the sky, she leans in, the loose lock of wavy pink hair framing her face falling forward and brushing against his cheek as she tentatively kisses him.

His lips are surprisingly soft, warm and gentle against hers as he returns the kiss, his hands tightening on her waist. A warm tingly feeling washes over her as the kiss gets deeper, the alcohol on his breath and how good it all feels making her head spin. She wraps her arms around his neck loosely as she moves her lips against his, finding an easy rhythm so quickly it surprises her a little bit. 

Val pulls away after a few seconds to catch a breath, her underwear already starting to feel a little damp and sticky as they look at each other cautiously, Val trying to ignore the creeping feeling in the back of her mind that things are not going to be the same after this. 

“Is this okay?” She asks when Lorenzo uncharacteristically says nothing, just breathing heavily as he stares at her lips. 

His eyes dart up to lock with hers for a split second before they flick back down to her lips and he pushes up to kiss her, the movie utterly forgotten as he kisses her so gently it takes her aback for a second, hunger and desire clear in the way he’s pulling her close now, one arm snaking around her waist while the other slides up between her shoulder blades and he holds her body tightly against his solid chest, the tenderness in how his lips move against hers making her feel like she’s just going to melt from the intensity of it.