#and it's just been languishing in my wips for months and months

[sharkneto]

God, one day I'm going to finish my Five And Allison Talk Post-S3 fic. I go back and just look at it every few weeks. Wish someone would finish it (me, I'm the someone).

Snip because maybe getting more of it out in the world will kickstart something for me. A continuation of the snip shared HERE --

-

Softer, Allison says, “I still don’t understand why you voted against it. It doesn’t make any sense. You spend your whole life fighting the apocalypse to just give up?”

Five knocks back the rest of his drink and considers the empty glass. He then stands to cross the room to pour himself another. She watches him. It’s not until he’s finishing the pour that he says, “It seemed like the better option.”

“In what world, Five?”

“In the one where, when we do follow Dad’s special little plan, it ends with me dying alone in the basement of the Commission as a one-armed centenarian.”

She swallows. In the harried few days before the end in Oblivion, a few details about Five meeting himself yet again and then watching him die had made it to her. She hadn’t given them much stock around everything else going on.

“He told me to not save the world,” Five continues. “And the only scenario I can think of that ends with me in a box in the basement of the Commission for a hundred years is one where you’re all dead. Again. And if that’s the situation, I’d rather be dead with you. I’m not doing that again, not if it was never going to work.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “Assuming that version of me thought like me, I figured that’s what his warning was. Add in that it was Dad’s plan and into a fucked alternate dimension… The math seemed bad.” He splays his hands, the dark alcohol sloshing in his glass.

Allison stares at him.

She should have paid more attention to those passing comments about Five meeting himself.

She blinks before shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

He shrugs. “You asked.”

Slowly, she says, “So… your math wasn’t actually about saving the world or stopping anything. It was just… how you’d rather die?”

“That’s a rather inelegant way to put it but… yes.”

Allison studies her brother’s young face, working to slot this into her understanding of how everything went down at the Hotel. This whole time, she’d been assuming—what? That Five gave up? That he’d hated their dad more than he loved them? That he cared about her less than the others to have thrown away her life and happiness for a few good hours with the rest of them?

Instead, he was facing what he assumed was a no-win scenario that only he made it out of. The world already gone, and whatever they chose the rest of them would go too. The only difference was whether or not he was still standing on the other side of it.

And he voted to not be. He voted to be done.

It brings her to a single conclusion: “That’s so selfish.”

His expression twists, incredulous and hurt as her words sink in. “Excuse me?”

“It worked, Five. We’re here, right now, with everyone. It worked. And it almost didn’t because you voted to stay. Because you wanted to give up.”

“That’s not how time works, Allison.”

“We ended up in Oblivion anyway! And that worked, in a messy way, but it worked. If you’d just agreed to go to begin with, we wouldn’t have lost Luther. Or Klaus!”

“As I seem to recall, I wasn’t the only one who voted no! I was just lucky enough to be the deciding vote. And it’s probably because I voted no that it worked!"

Allison lets out a noisy sigh. “Explain that to me, how that makes any sense.”

“Because if I hadn’t talked to my future self and watched him die pathetic and alone, I would have voted yes. A chance to fix everything? Hit the undo, reset it all? Of course I want that! But easy fixes—”

“Easy!?”

“—easy fixes like that always have a catch! And if I hadn’t known what this one’s catch was, that it outweighed its solution, I would have gone for it.”

“So you voting no and then still doing it anyway changed that how?”

“Ripples, Allison.” He sighs. “Me voting yes would have meant we all marched in right then and probably were either killed by the guardians or got used up by the machine, even more than we were anyway. Think about it. We didn’t march straight in, so what happened instead? The kugelblitz advanced to our toes. Dad killed Luther. Dad left Klaus behind and he died, too, or, at least went to his Void or whatever he calls it. Which meant we had eyes on Dad when Klaus popped back. We had a ghost form of Luther to stop the last guardian, all his strength with none of his vulnerabilities of having a physical form.”

“Are you saying it’s a good thing now that Luther and Klaus died?”

“Obviously not! That’s no one’s ideal way for that to have worked! But it’s those differences that are what’s important, what skewed things to make us end up here instead of me back there.”

[mamawasatesttube]

one thing i really am trying to get through my own head is that not every fic has to be a masterpiece. sometimes you just scribble something down for vibes or bc it's cute and that's that and it's not a bad thing. shaking myself by the shoulders it doesn't all have to be grand fancy metaphor-laden narratives about the human condition or whatever!!!!!! live a little post the silly little scribbles there's no rules!!!! it doesn't all have to be transcendent and perfect!!!! aaaaaaa!!!!

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

*takes a deep breath* Tagged by @streetkid-named-desire @wanderingaldecaldo (you two I think at least twice lol) @seeker-of-truth

@baublekute @scarlettspectra @aggravateddurian. Thank you all very much for thinking of me! 🧡

Tag backs for everyone above 😘 and @luvwich @merge-conflict @shimmer-like-agirl @mynonsenseistingling

@fly-amanitaa @dani-the-goblin @tarmac-rat @lavnderkiwi @morganlefaye79

Cash your tag in now or later and feel free to do whatever creative projects you're working on! Doesn't even have to be fandom related.

It's been a minute. This one got long.

I largely haven't been doing any fandom stuff other than VP because my work schedule has been insane the past two months. And the only reason I have VP to post is because I'm generous about snapping pics and the vast majority of photos y'all are seeing are ones I took back in March/April/May.

Things at work are starting to be slightly less hectic though, so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to be gentle with myself about the time and energy I do have but it's been frustrating wanting to do things and not having the beans to do them. Spending most of my workdays outside for extended periods of time means I'm bone tired when I get home. And then I have more work to do outside...

Gardening

My garden is gonna be very scraggly looking for the rest of the year, but if I can keep it alive, in theory, the plants should come back bigger and bolder next year. Shortgrass prairie plants spend the bulk of their first few growing seasons establishing their root systems since water is often in short supply, so the tops of the plants are very unimpressive rn. Most of them probably won't get much bigger than this or even flower this year.

I've gotten a good chunk of the plants in the ground, have irrigation lines going to all of them, and did the lil concrete paver patio. I still need to finish planting the plants that have been languishing in their pots for over a month, bury the irrigation lines, and do a bunch of other random things, but we're getting there. Not planning on covering the bare dirt with mulch because I'm doing fall and spring seeding and I want the plants to self-sow. Going for wild pocket prairie and I'm gonna let it go absolutely feral. I'd eventually like to get rid of the river rocks too but baby steps.

What's really funny is all my native plants seem to be doing reasonable well. My vegetable garden on the other hand... It's sad. I know where I fucked up though (I should not have done that soil experiment lol and attack of the cutworm catepillars), so I'll just have to cut my loses this year and reevaluate for next. The worm composter is doing good though 🪱

Drawing

Attempting to get back into drawing. Again, it's been slow. Have been doodling some mutual's CP2077 OCs when I have the time and still have a ways to get through my list. I'm surprised by how much fan art of Grandpa I've received so I figured I'd return the favor for some folks. It's always a pleasant surprise getting some lovely art in your inbox. Probably won't be coloring most of these from here on out. I have a love hate relationship with coloring. Sorry, I just find lines more interesting. All of these were done with dip pen, ink, and watercolor.

I've got another more formal piece I need to work on as well and get done by the end of the month. Keep forgetting to do the layout sketches...

Writing

The slowest of them all. Been working on the same damn short fic (No. 1 of Les Preludes) and then brainstorming for about fifty other projects that are waiting their turn in line. Plus, I'm still trying to read too. But when I can only manage a chapter of a fic about every two weeks...

Most of my writing efforts have been bopping into my drafts now and then and pecking out a sentence or two. However, I did manage to spend 45 minutes detangling a section of about 200 words 🐢:

Have you or a loved one been in an accident or injured on the job?  Are you missing your former quality of life?  Holed up in the bathroom, Robert winced at his reflection in the mirror and at the crusted blood he picked at underneath his nostrils.  Then consider Arasaka Cybernetic Implants!  Fully functional prostheses are capable of replicating the full range of human motion and more!  Available in a range of sizes and styles to suit all your lifestyle needs.  The body of the future is NOW. The corners of his mouth tugged on a bruised eye and what former experience had taught him was a broken nose. Call 1-800-IMPLANT today for a free consultation! Low-interest financing and payment plans available. A rapid fire of unintelligible fine print was drowned out by the sputter of the faucet. Robert cupped his hands and scrubbed at his face, the pain disappearing for the briefest moments with the black of shut eyes and splashes of cold water.      Arasaka Corporation.  What can we do for you? Dry flecks of red decorated the sides of the sink before rehydrating into inky swirls of blood that slipped down the sides of imitation porcelain. Yellowed, cracked, and starting to chip. The plastic hadn’t aged well.

This snippet gives me the hardest war flashbacks to those late 90s/early 00s TV phone ads. Anyone else old enough to remember these things?

[seiya-starsniper]

Fic Talk!

tagged by @tryan-a-bex, thank you dear, I loved reading your answers! 💖

How many wips do you have currently?

Hnnnnnnnnngh I have no goddamn clue lmao. My two publishing WIPs are Six Degrees of Separation and Set the Night on Fire. For WIPs I have yet to publish....Let's say less than 20 but more than 10

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish? Why do you think that is?

Set the Night on Fire by a landslide lmao. I haven't updated it since October of last year. What's crazy is that I have the whole fic outlined, but I've been struggling to actually write the last two chapters. I actually finally picked it back up this month after letting it languish for months. I do think that outlining it in detail completely derailed my ability to write the fic itself. My dumb lizard brain thinks the fic is actually done because the outline is done LMAO.

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

Pure, unhinged mania lmao. If I get an idea I will drop everything to write it. Unless I'm driving. But even when I'm driving, I'm mentally writing the fic in my head and then jotting things down as soon as I'm able to look at my phone. The other day I wrote a 2k fic in four hours. I wrote the first chapter of A Symphony of Hearts while eating my lunch at my desk at work, and Message Not Delivered an hour after reading the tumblr post that inspired it. I'm very good at writing short fic for certain, but lord help me if I want to write anything longer than 2-3k lmao.

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

Nope! Never got into it. The closest I got was when I was writing and if I get burned, at least we were electrified. And...the playlist was just me looping the entire reputation album by Taylor Swift so I don't think that really counts LOL.

That said...for my fics that do have song lyric titles, there's an almost 100% chance that I was looping just that one song over and over again while writing the fic. Because you know, the ADHD 😅😅😅

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organised?

Balls to the wall. Absolute chaos. There's no order to my madness, truly. Even my outlines are chaos.

no pressure tags: @five-and-dimes @kydrogendragon @bazzybelle @blueberrymffn @tj-dragonblade

@rriavian @aisalynn @the-apocrypha

[chocochipbiscuit]

Hey, Choco,

So, um,

Behemoths?

Like, if you are inclined to write fo4?

This has been sitting in my inbox, shamefully languishing, because I just haven't had time to do it the justice I felt it deserved (and am still juggling multiple other WIPs) but I just decided: justice be damned! The only way to exorcise this yelling is to actually yell about it!

FIRST OF ALL. What makes a behemoth vs a regular mutant? Considering that we only see behemoths on the East Coast, we can take the Watsonian approach (we only see behemoths on the East Coast because they come from a different strain of FEV) or the Doylist approach (Bethesda just wanted us to have huge enemies for fun boss fights).

Obviously, I write fanfic, so I'm gonna run with the Watsonian approach. :P

Per official Fallout 3 game guide:

Another unique trait of the super mutants is that they grow larger as they grow older, and can range from eight (2.44 m) to at least twenty feet (6 m) in height; the largest are known as "behemoths." These behemoths seem to be even less intelligent than their smaller brethren, communicating only in echoing roars and blindly destroying everything in their path, acting more like an unfettered beast than a warrior.

Which seems pretty fucking depressing if you're a mutant who actually values your reason and ability to keep a handle on your rage! (Ex: Fawkes, Virgil.)

In fact, per this possible dialogue with Virgil:

The Sole Survivor: "Do you remember Edgar Swann?" Brian Virgil: "Swann? ...Yes, I saw his file. He was one of our first test subjects, years ago. His mutations destabilized. Started turning into a Behemoth. You think that could happen to me? Maybe I'm fine for a few months, a few years, but... god. I couldn't live like that."

Except...again, we have multiple in-universe exceptions to the 'always hostile, always stupid' mutants. We also can also read against the canon as presented to us and consider that since super mutants are capable of forming their own societies, including shared resources and responsibilities for caring for disabled members (such as the fact that Dead Eye gets back up from other mutants if attacked).

I think there is some argument to be made for whether it's socialization vs the type of FEV each mutant is infected with; Fawkes mentions that it took him years of isolation with his computer before he could speak and reason more intelligently, and Strong can grow (through friendship with the SoSu) from literally believing in the milk of human kindness to using idioms like 'got your back' when switching out between companions. Virgil is one of the 'newest' mutants we get to see, freshly turned, so he might be unique due to the FEV strain used or because he's so new to being a mutant.

Swan and Grun are the only named behemoths of FO4, IIRC, so let's take a look at Swan!

Swan was a former Institute employee turned into an experimental test subject as 'probation' for stealing cigarettes. (I can gnash my teeth about the Institute, criminal justice, and their incredibly shaky ethics later.) We can read journal entries and notes about his fear of what the FEV is doing to him, as well as his fears of being discarded as another failed subject. The fact that he devolves to the point where he can only shout his own name and still wears the swan paddleboats as memories of his former self is incredibly depressing and make him more sympathetic to me!

That said...I'm also thinking about one of Magnolia's songs. Specifically, from "Good Neighbor:"

Took a dive with the swans Out in the Commons with nothing on The mutants stopped to savor All my bad behavior It's all in a day's work When you're a good, good neighbor

HEY. HEY. MAGNOLIA. DID YOU FUCK SWAN? DID YOU FUCK SWAN??? I NEED TO FUCKING KNOW, MAGNOLIA!!!!

Especially because of her line: "It's all in the songs. Everything I am."

THERE IT IS, FOLKS. SHE FUCKED THE BEHEMOTH.

(/tongue in cheek)

Or rather, it's all fair game for fanfic. :P

All of that said, it's fucking ripe for fanfic. Does Virgil try to make amends for his past by developing other cures for FEV, including for Swan? Does Magnolia actually have an odd friendship with the behemoth at the bottom of the pond? Do we simply need a few more behemoths smashing around until some brave human or ghoul attempts the first overture of friendship?

YES. YES TO ALL OF THIS.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

I think it's time for a small update on my WIP Last Night, New Body! 🌃🦾💘

After finishing the skeleton draft for the WIP in February, I began reading it and taking notes for it in March. However, I changed priorities later that month, and so the WIP was left languishing for a while.

In the meantime, I worked on a different WIP, but did not make much headway, and was very disappointed in myself as a result.

Thankfully, a good friend of mine pulled me out early this month and got me focusing on Last Night, New Body again. I've finished reading through the draft now, and I'm building on the story once again.

I'm adopting an interesting strategy for working on this WIP, which plays to my strengths as a short-form writer. I'm not ready to share how it works just yet, but when I hit a certain milestone, I'll make it a reward to myself (and to you guys) to reveal how I'm presently building Last Night, New Body.

It has been so long since Sulfurous Dreamscapes ended, hasn't it? It's been even longer since I promised you guys a book. I must have the most patient readers in existence! Perhaps you will help manifest Last Night, New Body into paper form.

Thank you all! 💖

[kiwiana-writes]

The way we get into each other's bones [Angstapalooza RWRB Edition] bc the multiminute podcast i got from u isn’t enough apparently

and also the only fans one, u know, for balance

The way we get into each other’s bones [Angstapalooza RWRB edition]

Lmaoooo the TWELVE MINUTE VOICE NOTE I sent you already gave you more info about this than I think anyone other than @ships-to-sail @celeritas2997 and @rmd-writes is privy to. BUT.

For those of you who aren’t in the middle of the Venn diagram between RWRB and Schitt’s Creek, a few years back I wrote a 53k canon divergence breakup/reconciliation fic that was dubbed “angstapalooza” while I was writing it. And based on people’s reactions… it earned the moniker. (It’s also, despite my overall reputation in SC as a smut/kink peddler, become The Work people associate with me, apparently. Or as @indestructibleheart put it: “mj being seen as someone who only writes angst is like how nick is gonna go down in history for playing gay royals. it's not their fault their angst fics just happen to be very memorable, but they actually have a full imdb of other roles.“ 😂😂😂

SO. When, halfway through writing the actor AU, I had a sudden idea for a multi-chapter canon divergence breakup/reconciliation fic… well. The appellation seemed appropriate. It also immediately terrified the RWRB/SC Venn diagrammers 😂

I really do just need to sit down and, like, focus on this one, because it’s by far my longest-languishing WIP. But here’s the start of the pitch: canon divergent from Rio, they start hooking up much earlier, and break up—spectacularly and angrily—a couple of months before Philip’s wedding. Cakegate is no longer antagonism and UST, it’s two very recent very hurt exes having to play the diplomatic bullshit in the public eye while seeing each other for the first time since breaking up.

There’s a prologue in media res that covers cakegate, then we flash back to Rio and see the progression of their relationship (before and after cakegate) from there. Angst with a happy ending, and many delicious things on the way I won’t spoil right now.

As a little treat, have the (heartbreaking!!) end of the prologue:

Later, what Alex will hate himself for the most isn’t the absolute waste of $75,000 worth of dessert. It won’t be the heartbroken look on Martha’s face, or the disappointed expression on his mom’s when he gets home, or the diplomatic shitstorm the whole thing threatens to kick off.

No, what Alex will hate himself for the most is that when they fall to the floor, Henry’s hands find their way to Alex’s hips, gripping tight enough that his fingers will probably leave bruises later—and just for a moment, it feels like coming home.

Hold up, rewind, knock me off of my feet [OnlyFans/Roommates]

I talked about this one here but have a little snippet because I genuinely love this fic. I just keep getting distracted by ooh-shinies

“I think I’m into Henry.”

“Right, no, I got that part somewhere in between hearing how pretty he is when he cries and you waxing rhapsodic about how he has, and I quote, ‘thighs that could crush a watermelon or, like, hang off a pole or something’.”

Alex blinks at her, confused. “What? I didn’t say anything about his thighs.”

“Not today.”

Two words should not be able to be that damning. He does vaguely recall saying that, actually, a few weeks after they moved in together and Alex had come home to find Henry in shorts for the first time.

Which, okay. It’s possible Alex has been ignoring a few signs. Big signs. Twelve foot tall signs that are so neon you kind of have to wonder if they’re radioactive.

[WIP tag game]

[little-peril-stories]

nano 2023 let's gooo

Well, friends, it's that time of year again. Why I have once again decided to leap straight from Whumptober to Nanowrimo, no one knows, but here we go.

The difference from 2022 to 2023: last year, for both Whumptober and Nano, I was "playing to win" (so to speak —playing against myself, of course), while this year I wasn't/will not be. Like, if I end up writing 50,000 words this November, great!

But. I have an issue with being competitive (again, only against myself; I hate competing against others in most contexts) and I know I will get obsessive about 1667 words every day and getting every single badge, etc., etc.

So I'm just...not.

I don't have a word count goal. The goal is simply to finish the first draft of angsty heist wip. If I can, great. If not, great. I started it in April, got distracted by TQOL and life, and the poor story's been languishing around the midpoint since I put it aside. I think if I can push beyond the midpoint, I'll be all right. But even if that turns out not to be true—oh well!

I'm still going to work on TQOL, and since I've fallen into editing TPOT and have been looooooving that process, I'm going to keep doing that, too. So this Nano is really just going to be about doing the writing things I want to do and that make me happy, and if angsty heist wip gets finished as part of that journey, well, bonus.

Is this more a #CalmWriMo as coined by @winterandwords? Why, I suppose it is. Thanks for putting forth the idea and the hashtag. 😊

Anyway. Happy November, happy Nanowrimo, happy Calmwrimo, happy another day of being alive, and happy writing!

Bonus lines for anyone who made it to the bottom of this ramble lolololol.

From The Queen of Lies chapter whatever-the-hell-it-is-now-this-one-used-to-be-chapter-7:

In the faintest reaches of her heart, she allowed herself to grieve ever so little, and to wonder if she would ever see him again.

I made it to Chapter 30 in editing The Prince of Thieves, oh god oh god:

“I don’t know anything else,” she says, her voice shaking. She’s half off the floor, frozen now, breath coming in little bursts. I know, whether I live beyond today or not, I will never be able to forget this moment—her terrified gasping, her wide eyes, the way her chest rises and falls so fast it’s hard to follow. My hand tingles, fuzzy and warm in memory of how it clung to hers all night, and I am struck with how much the idea of Hatchett ending Bree Cooper’s life threatens to rip me apart from the inside.

nothing for angsty heist wip lol I'm sure those will be forthcoming throughout the month

[blondiest]

WIP Wednesday

for the last few days, i think out of an instinctual avoidance of The Tricky WIP [waiting for an epiphany], i've been working on random-ass long-neglected oneshots. could i be working on one of the several multichapters that have languished for months without an update? sure. but what's the fun in that? :3

below is a snippet from what i worked on today <3

-------

“Hey,” Mello says into the quiet of the room, which is empty save for the two of them. “Come look at this, would you?”

Near glances up from his dice tower. The older boy— his once-rival, now-colleague, something that’s still a little surreal to Near— is slouched in a desk chair in front of a wide monitor, staring expectantly.

“Alright,” Near says, and goes to stand.

And he does stand, actually— that part he pulls off— but he doesn’t stay standing. As he gets to his feet, his vision darkens at the edges and he sways, then stumbles, his knees buckling.

Mello is at his side in an instant, crouching down, his hands on Near’s shoulders before he can collapse further. Near sags into him, too woozy to stop himself.

“Near,” Mello is saying. “Hey— hey. Fuck, are you— can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” Near says faintly. “Sorry, I just…”

“Christ.” Mello curses. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

Near does not want to be picked up. He is nineteen years old and does not need to be carried like a child. He tries to tell Mello this, but it comes out sort of garbled and awful-sounding, and then he’s being hauled to his feet, Mello’s hands under his armpits.

“I’m fine,” Near snaps, trying to pull away.

“You’re not,” Mello snaps right back. He’s stronger than Near is, and keeps firm hold of him, wrapping an arm around Near’s waist. It’s almost like a hug. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Ate yesterday,” Near says, petulant and embarrassed.

Mello drags him over to an office chair and makes him sit. “You have to eat every day, Near.”

“I know that.” Near slouches backwards, wishing he could hide. “I just forgot.”

“You forgot,” Mello echoes.

“Yes. I have many other things on my mind, and I’m sure you can understand how—”

“Shut up. You live in this dump, right?”

Near raises his eyebrows. He would be offended by the new headquarters being referred to as a dump if anyone but Mello had done it.

“I do.”

“Good,” Mello says. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

[idontknowreallywhy]

For the fic writers ask game!!

14 how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

40 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

56 What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

p.s. you are definitely a proper writer and a wonderful one!

Rediscovered The Inbox (which tends to hide on the mobile app) -better late than never on a reply??

I did answer 14 already ages ago I think so have been pondering the other two…

40 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I actually just commissioned some art on one particular scene which I am beyond excited about and may well get addicted to that process (note to self, check whether hubby is cool with second mortgage purely for multiple art commissions…) so that is kind of a dream come true (I’m getting WIP sketches etc and doing a lot of happy screaming!) but aside from that one…

There are scenes I feel like I’ve described quite well which could be artable but for others the actual picture stayed mostly in my head because I felt the detail would clog the narrative and I think I describe sound and smell better than visual anyway I think? There definitely one I’d love to see but not sure I’ve ever adequately described Estera for anyone to draw her (tho they’d be welcome to try!) but… if I could magically crystallise any image I’ve written it would be the photo she’s looking at here:

Her gaze shifted to the new photo, framed in blue, that she had recently added to her gallery. Yes, and in the last few months… everything had suddenly changed again. But this time in an indisputably good way. Because the imaginary hero had somehow shed the imaginary bit and become her friend. The two of them grinned manically out of the hasty selfie - hair dishevelled, flushed with adrenaline and drenched in seawater but vividly, irrepressibly alive.

Which was taken just after this scene. And yes, Scooter has destroyed another expensive suit 😏

56 What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I’m going to try to flip something I often worry is a failing in my stories because the reason I haven’t “fixed” it is because it is actually the bit I feel I’m best at and certainly is the stuff that comes out when I get excited with a sudden NEED to write immediately. So… even though I suspect it makes my fic slooow and the plot languishes in the background…

A thing I love doing and I think I’m getting better at is exploration of the thoughts and feelings of a character in a specific moment/scene. Usually through an inner monologue, sometimes interspersed with dialogue, but I just love picking apart a character’s mind spiral to show where they are mentally on a matter, where they came from and maybe edging them towards some progress. Scott and Virgil are the usual victims of this but I often do it to an OC as well, with the intent of showing one of the main characters’ development through external eyes.

Again, it doesn’t make for exciting, action-filled fic and I sometimes feel guilty for posting 3 chapters covering about 10 mins of events but… actually I enjoy reading that kind of thing from other people so clearly I believe it’s legit story telling when they do it so I’m trying to give myself permission to believe it is when the writer is me :)

Thanks for the ask and the encouragement (which, coming from one of my fave writers, is extra encouraging!)

[benwvatt]

wip wednesday!

it's thursday. whatever. i'm late to the party :)

tagged by the amazing @fullsunsets @thesleepyskipper and @nostradamus0

Enjoy a snippet of my upcoming Firstprince RBB fic! (Shhhhh if you've heard me languishing about my lack of writing motivation, no you didn't.) And also a kataang fic snippet below from 'friends have a baby' AU, which I am obsessed with.

tagging @chocomd @itsmoonpeaches @kaalee @priincebutt @elizabethmb

@crime-wives @beachy--head @tailsbeth-writes @binkitten @gordopickett

@likehercules and anyone else who may want to join in!

And there was something special about late-night conversations, Alex knew; June began spending fewer nights in the room down the hall and more at the Moontower, and she’d grown closer to Nora over dollops of strawberry cream cheese and sips from oversized lattes. There was something about that ‘you had to be there’-ness that Alex both enjoyed and went mad over. He was glad for her, he truly was. He just missed his sister. And, uh, a few months after the semester’d begun, June’s status as Alex’s last straight friend… ended. Alex didn’t know that many queer people. He supposed it was only natural that they’d stick together and they got along with him, with his geekiness, with his fury, with his propensity to hold protests at SeaWorld and lob rotten eggs at the doors of Greg Abbott’s house. And, besides, Alex just didn’t know many people, period. Not in a way that made them count as friends. When he met someone who got along with him well, it never turned out quite as well as Alex hoped. Unintentionally, frustratingly, he made connections, not friends, not people to lean on like Nora and like June.

aaaaaaand friends have a baby AU. I am obsessed with Kataang.

(For a bit of context, Katara is 30 here, Aang is 28, they are best friends turned friends-with-benefits turned friends again, and they've decided to have a baby even though they're not dating here.)

Aang cradles her in a hug and, after his nerves have hesitated across her skin and felt her reciprocate, he kisses her cheek. Then the space between her eyebrows, which makes her laugh because he smoothes broad thumbs over the thick hair there 一 “you’re so pretty,” Aang says, not for the first time, and she laughs. She already knows she is, but there’s no way he’s being serious. Where’s the goofy kid who played pranks by the minute, who thought of puns before she could even finish her sentences? How did they get here? Aang grins. “You are pretty. I like you.” “Okay,” Katara mutters, fixed on the movement of his lower lip (nope, nope, she’s absolutely not thinking about how good he is with his mouth, how she found out when they were younger and has been not-so-innocently wondering if, since then, he’s been wanting her too 一 no! That was harebrained, foolish.) She leans in.

[roseshewrites]

Down The Devil's Path snippet (1922 human Alastor WIP) - ARFlanagan

"Bless me, Père, for I have sinned. It's been twelve years since my last confession," Alastor had said, the words dry in his mouth. 

A curl of his lip, a sardonic smile. People really did this. Good people, evil people, and anyone in between like himself who had his trepidous beginnings onto a path the likes of which would make someone's hair curl.

 

"It's been a long time, mon enfant.. What sins have you commited that you seek forgiveness for?" 

"No longer 'enfant', Father," he had laughed, "I've done things a child would never think to do except for an exceptionally cruel one. I suppose that was me, then." 

His laugh had been the hollow sort, echoing drily against the mahogany walls of the confessional booth. In front of him, the Father's shadow was cast across the grate, silent and listening. 

"If you're waiting for my contrition, I don't know if I have it in me," Alastor continued, "Anyway, I wanted to tell someone. Be recognized for it, maybe. I killed a woman yesterday." 

Alastor tilted his head as he grinned, waiting for the poor priest's response; if he squinted his eyes and leaned in, he could just see the dark profile beyond the grate. 

He hadn't actually done it, yet. The woman was currently tied up head to toe in his basement. An evil thing, he thought of her. Vicious, like him, and that was how he liked them; but not cruel, and especially not cruel to children who had done nothing deserving of torture yet on this earth. 

"Ah," the Priest responded, muttering something in a latin prayer and seeming to cross himself. "Is this....the first of such crimes?" 

"No, Père. The most recent of many. My first woman kill, though. I don't generally go after women. She'd done something unforgivable in my eyes. See I had witnessed her shaking her child- a four month old, mind you- and it was crying so loudly and screaming, I couldn't help myself. I saw red, and before I knew it I had taken the baby from her and sliced her throat with my pocket knife." 

.."And the child?" 

"Safe," Alastor quipped, "I'm not that much of a monster! Not yet. She's with the Ursuline Sisters in the French Quarter." 

"You said you're not here to feel contrition. Why tell me all this then?" - dear Père was having trouble keeping the tremor out of his voice. Too bad, Alastor thought with glee, he is honor bound to keep the anonymity of Confession. It's his holy duty.

"Well, I had a curiosity, really. Since number one, I don't believe I've sinned in the traditional sense- I had a question in my mind in what the lord almighty might say about my soul...I'm on my devil's path. That's what I call it. And before I go down fully, embrace it, you tell me; how much potential is there for an absolvement?"  

Alastor really didn't want to know. In truth, he didn't give a single shit. But his visit with the Ursuline Sisters had sparked a strange memory in him; of a church in his old neighborhood, St. Augustine, which he used to attend with his parents, or rather was made to attend. Even now the smoky tang of incense made his throat hurt and feel dry, the walls closed in. It was the opposite of holy. 

"I would urge you to turn yourself in," the poor priest had begged him, "There is absolution in admittance of guilt. That's your first step. What you've done..." 

"What I've done is unforgivable," Alastor finished for him, "But what's more, my lady friend tried to trick me. 'I'm expecting,' she said, when she saw how angry I'd gotten, and Père, what's more is that I hate a liar and an abuser in tandem."

She really thought she had him there; what a dolt. And to lie to someone like Alastor, who was well-versed in body language and silent ticks, who also was attuned to the smell of blood, he'd known she had just gotten her menses. He wasn't stupid. He had quite purposely left her to languish in her own blood so as to teach her a lesson.

He was growing bored with the situation, however; Père's trembling had become irksome and he could feel that hint of boiling haze which had been unlocked yesterday come over him. Maybe it was the sight of an abused child, perhaps the screams of said youngling, and better yet, an as untold memory striking a chord with him as he handed the squalling thing over to the gentle Ursuline ladies at their orphanage. 

He wanted to act fast, and so when he withdrew his pocket knife and stabbed it through the grate, giggling inconsolably at the Père's terror, he crossed himself and gave a mocking bow toward the confessional booth as he left, saying, "And there's the end of it, really! Oh stop yelling. I'm not going to kill you." 

He'd gotten his answer; absolution was a constantly changing and fluid form conducted in an ouroboros, a snake, eating its own tail in an eternal cycle. Damn foolish of humanity to make up ways to be redeemed when there was no such thing.

[emjee]

I was tagged by the delightful @bromcommie for WIP word search, so here we go! This is from the pre-war swing dancing smutfic that I will FINISH SOON I PROMISE

space - weirdly enough this does not appear so far

sharp

“God, okay, you’re—” Bucky inhales sharply as Steve licks the side of his neck. “I’m rank.” He’s certainly sweaty; the trip home was cooler than the dance hall had been, but only for a given value of “cooler.” It had still involved a summer evening and the subway, which everyone knows basically runs directly on top of the earth’s molten core. “Don’t care.” He presses his nose to the spot just behind Bucky’s ear and breathes in. It’s more than not caring, actually. Smelling the sweat and lingering aftershave on Bucky’s skin makes him hot, makes him want to bite things.

sweet

“Please let me touch you, Steve, please, I wanna…” The words send a wave of heat through Steve’s body. No sooner has he nodded against Bucky’s leg than he feels a hand in his hair again, not pulling, just stroking, brushing it away from his eyes. Christ, Bucky’s sweet to him, sour thing that he is. Somehow it never feels cloying.

home (this one shows up a lot, so I'll choose my two favorites)

Bucky had last tried to teach him how to dance back in the winter, on a January night when bad weather had kept them both home at the apartment Bucky had bullied him into sharing after his mother died. (“I’ve already paid first month’s rent, Steven, and if you think your ma’s gonna rest easy if I let you languish in that shitty rear tenement, you have got another fucking thing coming.”) “Come on,” Bucky had wheedled, pulling at his hands when “One O’Clock Jump” came on the radio. “I’ll show you how, you’ll like it this time.” “I have never once liked it,” Steve protested.

--

The band’s vocalist steps up to the microphone, a beautiful woman in a green dress with a neckline that’s a gift and a smile that says she knows it. “My heart is sad and lonely…” He can look as much as he wants, from up here, and no one’s likely to notice. He presses his beer to the side of his face just in case, doing a passable performance of someone trying to cool off a bit. It’s useless, of course; his beer’s been room temperature for half an hour. At least it’s a good excuse for his flushed face, because the longer he watches Bucky on that dance floor, the more he wants to drag him all the way home to Brooklyn by the necktie and fuck him on the floor of the entryway.

tagging @augacity if you feel like it, same words - space, sharp, sweet, and home!

[internerdionality]

by any chance will you ever return to the slayer/dcu verse stories u have on ao3? 👀👀👀😳😳 i know im going full clown im sorry

No clowns here!

(Or we both are, I honestly feel real bad about letting that series languish as long as it has!)

I have huge amounts of the future fics in the series outlined—like, here's all my docs for the current and future fics in the series, and every one of these docs has at least a couple hundred words in it, even if it's just "here's what I plan to write in this fic," and several of them have detailed chapter outlines and the occasional scene written:

I have a decent chunk of the next long Clark-centric bit written ("Phases") which takes place after the last published chapter of Welcome to the Mouth of Hell and before the unpublished epilogue.

(Which is part of why I haven't published the unpublished epilogue, even though it's all written and everything... But it has spoilers for Phases. The other part is that it introduces the actual Slayerverse crossover bit, and I kinda didn't want to commit to that until I had more of it written).

Unfortunately, there is some plotting in Phases that, for the audience to understand what's going on, relies on my actually finishing Bad Girls, the Gotham Sirens sidequel, which I have been really struggling to do.

I've also been working on finishing Couplet, which takes place before the last published chapter of WttMoH and might fill in enough of those holes that I could just leave Bad Girls unfinished and move on, but my writing momentum in the last several months—

(Which admittedly hasn't been a lot, given that I got laid off in February and have been spending a lot of spoons on job hunting and all that good stuff)

—has mostly been focused on finishing up the Our Flag Means Death WIPs that are, um. unfortunately also languishing. 😅💀

Honestly, I really appreciate the ask, I kinda tend to assume that no one is still interested in that series at this point since it's been on hiatus for so long! 😭 The more people bug me about it and reread the series, the more I'm likely to actually get the executive function to work on it more!

I am happy to give you a sneak peak at the outline for the way the series will go, if I ever finish it, or just answer questions, if you'd like! Hit me up on discord if so, I'm Internerdionality there as well!

[two-reflections]

Writing Audit ✨

It's been a while since I've done one of these. Let's see what's on the docket.

[Freelance copy editing project.] - #1 Priority. Good for money, but it slows down all my other writing.

Of Steel and Flesh - August ended up too busy, but I finally have time to focus on this one again. I'd like to finish it before the Imperium Maledictum campaign I've just joined gets in full swing. Maybe I can do it over October for @finishwhatyoustarted-event? It would be a bit of an optimistic attempt since there's still a lot to go, but the story is fully outlined through to the end.

Salamander Slice of Life/Romance - This has stalled in the same place for half a year due to other commitments, but once I finish Of Steel and Flesh, I hope to pick it up again. I may need a long hiatus when this one is done.

Techmarine university story - I haven’t worked on this in ages. I may reconfigure it into a oneshot and post it, or it may languish in the WIP folder. Not sure which yet.

MMM September fic - The ship may have sailed on Marine Meat Monday fic for this month. I'm just not feeling particularly inspired right now.

Alpha Legion disguised as Iron Hands - This is a cracky omophagea story I came up with back in May or June, but I've been thinking about it again recently. I may do it as a oneshot in November, or three short chapters if I want to get into the gambit pileup.

That one Kingdom Hearts fic - I left it with one chapter to go in 2019. The chapter is almost done, it just needs like 500 more words. I only want to finish it as a matter of principle, but I keep putting it off. My writing has changed so much since then...

Despite the meme, my docket is a LOT shorter than it was back in August. Lots of projects that are already underway, and no competitions or exchanges to focus on yet. Also, some of my pregnancy fatigue has lightened up. However, I have actual work now, so goodness knows how much I'll be able to get done.

[citrus-cactus]

Howdy, all! I can't post my art summary quite yet because it contains part of someone's Secret Santa gift, so I thought I would fill out the fic summary template created by @reliablejoukido (see her original post here!). Even though I didn't publish (or finish!) much, I did start writing again this year, and that feels like a huge accomplishment, so it seemed like it would be fun to look back and talk a little bit about what I have in the works.

First, the finished fic!

My er... grand return to writing (I wouldn't call it that, but I did have a lot of fun writing and drawing for it, even if it took 6+ months from start to finish ^^;). I love these three characters as a trio so much. It was really hard to pull out a quote I liked and have it make sense in context, so I put the summary in there... but since I brought it up in another post, I thought I'd share what one of my editing drafts looks like:

(ok, so maybe not the tiniest font imaginable, but sometimes there are cross-outs to the cross-outs and sometimes I DO run out of room near troublesome paragraphs and in the margins!)

Now, onto WIPs!

Hmm, well! That sure is a title, isn't it? ;) I wanted to write Junzumi and came up with this idea late last year, and finally started trying to figure it out. It's meant to be fun and flirty and a bit awkward, but the ultimate goal is to be kind to JP, because he (and his body) are given so little love overall. And even though JP and Zoe are not actually hooking up in this fic, it is meant to show the relationship between the two of them in college, and how they could start going from friendship to dating. There IS nudity, but it's meant to be tasteful and respectful, I promise!

Oof. I haven't forgotten this fic, I swear (even though I published Chapter 4 three years ago!). I got really excited to work on it earlier this year (flush with success from actually publishing something, rotfl!) and then let it continue to languish (orz). Upon reflection, the reason it's been stalled is I was having a hard time figuring out the flow of action, but after re-outlining it in September I think I know now what Maki needs to be doing in order to experience the emotions I always meant her to be feeling in this chapter. And yes, she and Meiko meet (yay!).

Chapter 6 has been done for YEARS, and Chapter 7's probably pretty close to done as well, so it really is just this chapter being the hold-up.

AKA, Garg Fic #1. Been mulling over ideas for fic for this fandom all summer, and finally decided to write one based on some minor characters from the SLG comics (that I didn't even read, and can't read now because they're out of print). But I AM reading the new Dark Ages comics, and I'm proving to be a really good guesser about certain details, so actually, I feel INCREDIBLY validated about my original vision and characterization, ahaha.

As you may be able to tell from the quote selection, this is not a happy story. But I believe it's a story worth telling. It's about preserving customs in the face of tragedy, and mourning, and extinction, and love.

AKA, the thing that pulled me away from writing Garg Fic #1. I was possessed. I was writing something in my head about Macbeth's relationship with Demona this summer, and suddenly (VERY suddenly) it morphed into this. Dang, but they're fun to think about. This fic is weird, it will contain one MAJOR narrative trope/cliche, and it's definitely going to be NSFW if I end up getting that far. But I reeeeeeally like this paragraph I wrote for it XD

Thanks for the template Zuz, and thanks to everyone else for letting me ramble about writing! See you again for the art roundup!