#and look it's fun to use superfluous language

[allgoldenelite]

Translation of various things surrounding DDT 8/25 (Ibushi's return match)

It's a long one, so click to read it all after the cut

On the mic after the match, Ibushi said:

In these 20 years I've been wrestling, there truly were times when I didn't know if I liked pro wrestling or not. Coming back to the DDT ring and being able to have a match here, it really made wrestling seem fun again. But my love for wrestling is still only at 60%. It's not enough for 100%, but from now on I will get into the ring in AEW and DDT and gradually find my own true wrestling style that's fun to me. Endô, let's have a singles match next. I'm always waiting.

Kôroku Yuya:

I was no match that presence that changes the atmosphere of where he is just by being there, or that aura he has. It was a good experience to get a taste of Ibushi Kôta live like that. But I have to defy him, don't I? There are many passionate guys among the rookies in DDT right now that you don't even know about. Remember that. Thank you for the nice inspiration.

During their backstage comments, Ueno and Mao were more critical of Ibushi coming back to DDT. Ueno said:

We're here right now because Ibushi built the history of DDT. But him coming back to DDT is nothing amazing. What is Ibushi going to do in DDT? What are we going to do in the future? That's [what I want you to] look at. I lost but I'll go forward.

And MAO said:

The guys who had their dreams together with Ibushi Kôta, they can't forget the era in which they dreamed together with him, they'll chase after the shadow of that time their entire lives. How do you think we've been feeling when we built our own era after that?! I don't care about Ibushi this Kôta that, but 'that time' is over! We are the now! We lived through the hard times, and even after DDT was picked up by CyberAgent when the numbers were low, they were still a bit low after that—that the numbers are finally looking good again, that's thanks to the era we built! Don't take us for idiots! You middle-aged lot, don't give yourself up to the 'golden star syndrome'. Wake up. We are the current generation.

To which Ibushi said:

A return to DDT after a long time I'm dead tired, but it felt like something nostalgic, something new. I'm going to physically stay a heavyweight for a bit... It was fun, but, well, I don't have any interest at all in the criticism? inferioty complex? of the rest of the roster and I don't want to get involved with that at all, so I'm going to ignore it. It crossed my mind if [he?] is going to do that kind of wrestling again, but Endô has really grown!"

Oh, these people are the aces? I guess they're from a generation I'm not familiar with [typo]. Either way I'm tired of superfluous jealousy so if this repeats I can always fade out, and also please get bigger crowds again, in the future I won't accept that kind [typo] of jealousy even if it's in wrestling. I'll leave I got AEW too"

And then Ueno had this to say (reposted by MAO and Chris):

For me it's not at all like that. Neither myself nor MAO has any kind of criticism of you or feels inferior to you, Ibushi. It's simply about the problem with the stance of those people who share their opinions. If you could, I'd implore you to watch our backstage comments again. I'm sorry it's about us, but please forgive us if our language is rough. I think the fact that [people] feel nostalgic about the DDT that you built under Takagi, and what the current you is going to build in DDT from now on, are two completely different things. Please don't just look at the past, but at DDT as it is now, as a promotion, as the individuals. It's not just about what's happening right now. The present continues a bit into the future. That's our DDT, us who're living in the now. The DDT the way I see it. It's extremely sad to see this as jealousy or inferiority complex or something like that, that's just unfortunate. I'll show [people] everything I've acquired as a human being. I think that if we can't shift our focus because there are other places, then that's the last stop for us as we are now. If you are born of Takagi Sanshirô and wrestling is fun for you to experience, then please experience DDT until you've had enough. Please don't give up on yourself or others. It's all in DDT. If singles are easier to do then let's have one immediately. We're the children of Takagi Sanshirô, so let's enjoy this. It'd be a waste [not to].

Chris:

At the end of the day, pro wrestling is a fight, so if someone snaps at you, you should snap back. I think no one is expressing petty jealousy, and I think if you think that we are then you have a pretty narrow world view. And the people who are blindly agreeing with that kind of misunderstanding aren't helping the situaton, either. DDT is a kind place with kind people, so let's enjoy this together. If it's not from the heart we won't get anything out of it, after all.

Mita Sayoko:

When Endo asked Ibushi, 'Ibushi, do you love pro wrestling' and Ibushi answered in his actual voice, 'I do', I remembered that time in 2013 at the show in Ryôgoku when Dieno and Ibushi, after their singles match, had this back-and-forth: 'Ibushi, why do you wrestle?' 'Because I love it'.

[the actual back-and-forth took place before Ryôgoku, and went like this:]

Dieno: “Thank you very much for so thoroughly and utterly smashing me to pieces for daring to think I could win even a little bit. Oh, damn it! Ibushi, can I ask you something? Why are you wrestling?” Ibushi: “Because it’s fun.” Dieno: “What a coincidence. [I feel so] too. One more, why are you in DDT?” Ibushi: “Because I love it, because I love it here.”

Ibushi also replied to the first post in this thread:

I really was so lost that I weighed in my mind whether I loved it or hated it. A lot of things raced through [my head]. When I asked myself how I would feel if I didn't have pro wrestling anymore right now, I knew definitely that if it went away I would regret it. I've only ever had like, one regret in my life, but this one I would regret! So then I said, "I do [love it]."

[back to Mita:]

Endo belongs to the last generation in DDT who were deeply influenced by Ibushi, and Ibushi's not just the wrestler who inspired him to become a wrestler but 'someone I will always look up to'. I'm really glad that they each came up through an era when pro wrestling is unbelievable and that I could see with my own eyes the day when they could face each other in a DDT ring [after that]."

And then MAO comes along and throws a fastball at these sentimental feelings. When I saw him yell, "You middle-aged lot, don't give yourself up to the 'golden star syndrome'! Do you have any idea how hard we worked since then?! That era is over!", I felt like I couldn't just carelessly say "I want to see a match with Ibushi and the DNA generation after him" anymore,

and furthermore I knew that Ueno, who had lost his championship and had been made to talk about Ibushi only after his match, was [also] thinking, don't take us for idiots, so I trudged home, thinking around in circles about everything.

Dieno on his blog (this was the free part, there is also a paid one):

First, I should say, 'Welcome back'. This is probably putting the assclusion first, but let me talk about what's great about Ibushi in DDT. It's his degree of madness. That he's a psychopath. If you forgive the crass expression, the guy is insane. But because he has an unbelievable talent for wrestling, people pay attention to him, whether it be because of his moves of his physicality or his unique, hard work, and as a result he was successful in major promotions as well, not to speak of how accepted he was. Although he went to a major promotion, his madness didn't fit in there. That's all this is about. We will never know how much Ibushi was worried when he left DDT. Some people maybe even think it wasn't good. Well, a lot happened. Sorry, but I don't care about that. What does he mean to me? That's the only basis by which I judge Ibushi.

So then he returned to DDT yesterday (8/25). He made sure to dress up in madness. I think his injuries and ring rust did have an effect on him. But this was Ibushi at his most 'Bussan' to me. The same way Endô is 'Tecchan' to me. Ibushi was 'Bussan'.

I don't care if he himself agrees or not. If he's going to be a heavyweight wrestler than he's going to get bigger for that and a build a body he can use for that. I think he will adjust that himself in the future. As far as yesterday is concerned, I think it's enough that he showed up as 'Bussan'.

I guess I'll go into detail? This is jumping around in the timeline a bit, but somehow Endô made his challenge after the main event. It feels like before that he was looking at himself and checking what it was that he himself needed right now. Through the match with Ibushi. His question to Ibushi after the match was probably also part of that. In other words 'Do you love pro wrestling?' You get it, right? Tecchan was asking himself that. In reality the answer was already there. Because he was asking that inside a wrestling ring. But for him, that was probably the last piece needed [to make his] challenge. 'I wrestled because I love wrestling. But sometimes it was difficult in wrestling. Would I continue to love wrestling despite that?' That led to him declaring his challenge after the main.

Kôroku. I'm glad he got a taste of Ibushi before the others. I don't know how Ibushi is going to wrestle for DDT in the future. But I could see him wrestling in matchups that are meaningful. Consequently I guess he won't really wrestle those with shorter careers we call rookies. Thus it's a valuable experience that shouldn't be wasted. And on top of that. Of course, I don't know if this is the correct answer. I don't know, but if I had been Kôraku, I think I would've said 'This guy is crazy' during the match. After all, he tried to asphyxiate him. So I get the feeling that he acted in this kind of position in the match. And by doing so [Kôroku] became a key person of the match. But I don't know if it's the correct way to go to repeat that over and over. It changes depending on how you want to be perceived. Wrestling is hard.

Akito controlled the match. At the very least he did for our team. Akito's control of the chaos was very effective when it came to how excessively often it was Ibushi's turn, even though this was his return match after injury. There was a way everyone conducted themselves that was like, 'Everyone wants to see Ibushi in this match.' The nerve of this guy to have this kind of important position in DDT, in deed as well as in name. How upsetting to think that, I thought in admiration.

And actually, me and Ibushi. This is important for this match. I was able to predict the fact that Akito would help 'Ibushi's match' along the way I noted earlier, so here I shoved in my story with Ibushi, as is my nature. I thought I would do it as soon as Ibushi made his entrance. I write about this in more detail in the paid part, but I understand where Ueno and Mao are coming from. I guess you could call it a concern for the "current DDT". That's why I brought my story with Ibushi here. I think the result was worth it. We mustn't go back to 8 years ago, after all. Not just the wrestlers in this match. Every wrestler in DDT right now. The whole of DDT, in a way. And neither should Ibushi. We live in the now, facing the future together with the past. ...This is the kind of thing I will get deeper into in the paid part.

[aporeticelenchus]

While struck down by Covid (alas, alack, etc), I’ve been watching operas on my mom’s Met Opera account. So far we’ve gotten through:

Barber of Seville (2007, Peter Mattei and Joyce DiDonato):

Charming! A delight! I want to spend more time with the music later to get a better sense of individual movements. Largo Al Factotum looms large and is as good as promised. I enjoyed Peter Mattei as Figaro and Joyce DiDonato as Rosina a lot too! Bartolo’s patter songs are fun. Looking forward to hearing those again.

Marriage of Figaro (1998; Bryn Terfel and Cecilia Bartoli as Figaro and Susanna; Renee Fleming and Dwayne Croft as Countess and Count):

Finally watched a Figaro production after listening to it a million times! Also a delight! For some reason they switched out Susanna’s two solo arias, which threw me. I saw some reviewers thought Cecilia Bartoli did a little too much physical comedy, but I really liked her. Renee Fleming was a great countess; Porgi Amor is still a dead bore to me but that’s not her fault. Cherubino was adorable, but seemed to struggle a bit with Non So Piu.

This continues to be my favorite opera, and I enjoyed this as a production. I plan to watch the other two productions available on the Met on Demand later.

Don Giovanni (2000; Bryn Terfel, Renee Fleming, Solveig Kringelborn, Hei-Kyung Hong):

I’ve now spent enough time with Don Giovanni to have an opinion: it’s good, but I don’t like it nearly as much as Figaro. The plot flow and pacing frustrate me. There are some standout musical moments, but also some parts that drag (hi act 2 Donna Anna). I do love La Ci Darem and Hei-Kyung Hong’s Zerlina was charming. Finch’Han Dal Vino and Deh Vieni A La Finestra are songs I enjoy from Don G, and of course Lepprello’s little list is fun. Donna Elivra generally has good music behind her, as does Act 1 Donna Anna.

Does Don Ottavio need to be in this opera? I’m just…not sure he does….

Every time I hear the Statue sing “Don Giovaaaaaaaannnnniiii” at the end, my brain fills in “from thy dark exile thou art suuuuuuumoned”, and it took me a bit to realize I was pulling that from Iolanthe. I like to think it’s a deliberate musical homage by Sullivan.

I definitely want to watch some more stagings of Don Giovanni; overall I enjoy the opera and I can imagine it changing a lot with different directorial choices.

Die Fledermaus (1986, Kiri Te Kanawa, Judith Blegan, Tatiana Troyanos, and some men probably)

I love an operatta. I love a dumb musical comedy. I love a catchy waltz I can’t get out of my head. Two thumbs up; great use of my time listening, bad use of my time trying to follow the details of the plot because it did not really matter. Special shout out to the Overture for being a jam. It almost renders the rest of the operetta superfluous.

A+ joke having an opera singer character who won’t stop singing during the talky bits. Love that the prince is a trouser role; that helped me through some of the dumb gender stuff elsewhere.

Total blast. I plan to listen to some more recording, including two English-language adaptations. (The POP Opera project did their English-language adaptation set in 1920s Hollywood; that’s on my short list to watch) I think I like J Strauss II!

Carmen (2014; Anita Rachvelishvili and Aleksanders Antonenko)

I’ve seen Carmen before, but it’s been awhile. My mom loves Carmen; I…struggle with it. Maybe it’s just my pro-comedy bias.

The music is very good, of course; the Habañera and Toreador song are some of the most recognizable music today for a reason. The Act 1 overture is great! Short and punchy! I think the opera might be growing on me musically as I listen to it more; I’ve found the group numbers initially overwhelming, but with a little more time i can better parse the music and find parts I really like.

But anyway, I liked most of this production! I thought the Carmen was compelling, and Don Jose was a good singer (I just hate his character a lot). The set deign (1930s Spain vibes) worked for me, which was a pleasant surprise.

Going to see La Boheme tonight! Wish me luck.

[ashcupofthea]

2.The Weight of the Crown

Here we are finally with the second part of this story! I still have a lot of ideas to continue it and I will change the events of the game a bit, adding scenes,but the story will still be the same! I had so much fun writing this chapter,I hope you enjoy it. xoxoxo

remember, english is not my native language so there may be some errors,sorry!

Leaving Zelda, Link and Impa to continue their journey to the research center, Isla walked along the silent hallways of the castle, her brow furrowed and her thoughts heavy. She knew that a reunion with her father would not bring good news.

The doors to the throne room opened before her, revealing King Rhoam seated but imposing, his gaze fixed on his daughter. Beside him, royal advisers were confabulating in low voices, but the king gave a silent nod and everyone fell silent. Isla walked toward him, trying to keep calm, but she felt the weight of the impending confrontation weighing on her shoulders.

"Father," Isla began in a firm voice, bowing slightly in respect. "I have returned to report on recent events. The Sheikah Tower has been activated, and the ancient technologies are ready to be harnessed in our fight against Ganon."

King Rhoam looked at her with impassive eyes, and Isla felt the chill in his words even before he spoke. "Isla," the king said in a low but authority-laden voice, "I have heard enough," he said, "there is a more urgent matter to discuss."

King Rhoam slowly rose from his throne, his massive figure dominating the hall.

Isla raised her head, confused "Father, I am doing what I can to contribute. Have I not proven myself capable of assisting Zelda in her mission? Even without the power of Goddess Hylia, I can-"

But the king shook his head, as if he had not even heard her words. "This is a sacred mission, Isla. And as much as you want to be part of it, you are not needed in this battle. Your lack of divine power makes you? superfluous." The word came down like a shot. Isla felt a knot tighten in her chest "And so," she asked in a strained voice, "what is my place, father? If I cannot fight for Hyrule, what do you want me to do?"

"Your job is to ensure the survival of our dynastic line. For this, I have already arranged meetings with possible suitors for your hand; with a noble from a distant family, a lineage with which an alliance will strengthen Hyrule in these dark times,you can certainly help preserve the splendor of the Kingdom."

Isla widened her eyes. She had not expected such a drastic decision, and she certainly did not think her father would treat her as a mere political tool. "A marriage?" she asked, incredulously. "You want to sacrifice me for an alliance? Do you consider me so useless?"

The king looked at her with the same impassivity as before, but his tone grew harsher. "It is not a sacrifice, Isla. It is your destiny. You are the eldest daughter, and as such, your job is to protect Hyrule in a different way than Zelda. She will fight Ganon with divine power; you will ensure the stability of the kingdom through your union with a powerful man."

Isla felt a flame ignite within her, a mixture of anger and despair that threatened to explode. "I am not an object to be traded for the sake of an alliance, Father. I have proven that I am capable of protecting Hyrule in my own way, and I will not let you decide my life regardless of my will."

King Rhoam tightened his lips, his patience at its limits. "You have no choice in this, Isla. Your desire to fight is an outrageous fantasy for a princess. You are not blessed with the power of the Goddess, and you have no role in confronting Ganon. Your only use for the kingdom is to ensure the continuity of our lineage. You were destined for this,if you insist on disobeying, you are only bringing chaos where order is needed."

Isla clenched her teeth, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. There was no way to change her father's mind. "We have concluded,you may go now my daughter," and with that Isla turned and left the throne room.

Isla ran down the corridors of the castle, her rapid footsteps thudding on the cold stones beneath her. Each breath became more labored, each thought more chaotic. She felt a knot tighten in her throat, her heart hammering furiously. The anger she had felt earlier in the throne room was turning into something darker and heavier. She wanted to scream, but there was no one who would listen, no one who would understand.

When she finally reached her room, she pushed the door hard and closed it behind her. She let herself fall to the floor, her breath shaking as she tried to hold back her tears. But it was no use. Frustration, the feeling of being trapped, of having no control over her life, swept over her like a furious wave.

She clutched her knees to her chest and, with her head resting on her arms. "Where did I go wrong?" she whispered to herself, her tone cracked with despair. She had always done what was asked. Since childhood, she had taken etiquette lessons, learned to behave like a princess, always dutiful, always perfect. She had studied, listened, done everything she could to live up to her father's expectations.

But she had never been enough.

"Why was I never enough?" she asked herself between sobs.

She was not Zelda. She was not the chosen one. She did not have the powers of the Goddess Hylia. Her whole life seemed to orbit around what she was not, what she could not do.

Still, she had never stopped trying to find her place. Isla remembered the hours she spent secretly practicing with a wooden sword and a bow, even when she should have been learning to play an instrument or practicing court dance. She wanted to be strong, not just elegant. She did not want to be just a princess to show off.

One memory in particular made its way through her wild thoughts: the day she met him.

She was still young, perhaps around 10 years old, when she first found herself in the lands belonging to the Rites. It had been one of those many formal meetings between rulers, an occasion to discuss alliances and trade. But Isla, as she often did during such visits, had grown tired of the adults' talk. One morning she decided to get away from the group and lost herself in the snowy forests that surrounded the region.

This was certainly not entirely by chance; Isla loved to wander. She wanted to escape the rigor of the court and immerse herself in the wilderness. But that day, among the icy trees and rough paths, she met an elderly Rito. His majestic figure and his elegance in moving among the trees immediately caught her attention. His name was Kael, a warrior, old and wise, but with the strength and agility of a young man.

Kael had found her exploring the snows, clumsy and ill-prepared for the difficulties of the terrain. Instead of scolding her and taking her back to where she had come from, he had observed her with a curious eye, perhaps recognizing in her that determination he always tried to hide from others. After that first meeting, between laughter and a knowing glance, their friendship had begun.

Every time Isla returned to the Rito village, she found a way to escape and reach Kael. He taught her how to handle the bow with precision, often teasing her for her stubbornness. Isla learned from him discipline, patience, but also the importance of following one's instincts.

"You are not meant to stand still, princess," Kael used to tell her. "Your nature is that of one who runs free in the wind, like the Rito. Do not let anyone lock you in a cage, not even your father."

Those words still resonated in his mind as he clutched himself in his room. She had spent her whole life trying to reconcile what she had been raised to be and what she really wanted to be. On the one hand, there was the obedient, dutiful daughter who followed the rules; on the other, there was the warrior who trained in the woods, dreaming of one day being able to defend Hyrule not with words but with actions.

Kael had seen her. He had always known who she really was. She slowly lifted herself up from the floor, wiping away her tears with an abrupt gesture. She needed to regain that strength that Kael had taught her. She shifted her gaze to a corner of the room where, hidden behind a piece of furniture, was a sharp sword she used for training. She hadn't touched it in weeks, maybe months, but when her fingers brushed against it a wave of determination went through her. Even though Kael was no longer in this world, she knew where to find a good shoulder to lean on even for a little while.

xoxoxoxoxo

Again,if you liked this chapter let me know! im so excited to finishing the next part,but it will come out soon and im already spoiling you that our beloved blue bird will appear.

For now bye bye

Part 3 is out!!!

[shaanks]

listen, I'm not inherently bothered by the fact that people from other countries don't have a good understanding of our politics or what causes the resulting atrocities they have to see on the news all the time. tbh it makes sense that they don't, bc no matter how much anyone attributes "not having a great grasp of what happens in other places" as a solely American trait, that's actually mostly just how people are.

political systems are complicated. the further away from your language and your country's version a political system is, the less intuitive it becomes to understand, and most people are just trying to survive in this world and don't have time for it. i get that.

what bothers me, really, IS the fact that people pretend this is an inherently American behavior, and that everyone else on the planet tooooooootally gets everyone else's politics at an intuitive level, like. two seconds before spouting the most insanely ignorant, insensitive, nonsensical take physically possible.

so lemme clear some stuff up. not that I'm sure it will matter bc mindlessly dunking on the people that live here for the actions of our genocidal government is what runs the best numbers on tiktok or whatever but like. here we go.

our voting system is complicated, has two separate layers that do not usually agree with each other, and has been stacked basically since the country was founded to purposefully minimize, diffuse, and disenfranchise anyone who isn't part of the ruling class (read: landed white men of a certain income and education, if you wanna go back and look).

there is a popular vote, then there is the electoral college. the popular vote sort of gives an idea of what the country's preferences are between (usually pretty monstrous) candidates, but it's filtered through a ton of weirdly shaped and purposefully obfuscated voting districts, and read based on percentages.

then there is a separate group of voters, called Electors, and those people make up the body of the electoral college. each state gets a certain number of electoral college votes, and the candidate who makes it to 270 of those votes becomes the President. the number each state gets is calculated as 2 votes for their senators and then a number of votes based on their congressional districts. are you following, is this fun?

they watch to see what the percentage of votes is from each congressional district. once it looks like there's a majority, they "call" that state in favor of a candidate, and cast their votes accordingly. (sometimes. there is a phenomenon called 'faithless electors' in which they cast the vote opposing the popular vote, but that's a story for another time.) also, since some states have relatively few congressional districts, and some have tons, certain entire states worth of votes "don't matter," and every election cycle the election basically comes down to the voting behaviors of a few key district-heavy states, called "swing states."

so, irrespective of how intense the support might be one way or the other for certain candidates, unless the votes are coming from a swing state, they mostly just kind of get. written off. they're counted! but very much treated as superfluous.

THEN, we get into the ways that presidential candidates are chosen to begin with. there are actually more than two parties in the US! Several, in fact! but due to the way campaign finance works, only the most well-funded ones end up having any say, and since corporations and their lobbying firms can basically pour money into our political system unchecked, that means that what we get are the Republicans and the Democrats. these two parties use their national conventions (the RNC and the DNC, respectively) to determine who will be the candidate representing them in the race.

usually, if there is an incumbent (a sitting president) eligible for re-election, that person will end up being their party's pick. either way, though, every candidate wanting to run for that RNC/DNC seat has to go through a number of debates and campaigning events to try to get enough traction to be voted for at their conventions.

sounds pretty straight forward, right? the problem is, you have to have money and more money and more money to be able to be competitive. for example, in 2012, it cost Obama and his campaign $2.9 million USD per day to fund his bid for the presidency. between his own money, campaign contributions, and the DNC money, in total, it cost more than $1 billion USD for him to become president.

does that sound like the type of money grassroots orgs have laying around? or that a normal person might be able to drum up? or that someone who is, say, an enemy of corporate America might be able to come up with on their own? probably not, huh.

also, since the majority of the money it takes to run ads, gain traction, and get elected DOES come from corporations, foreign direct investment (which ends up in the soft-money slush fund so it doesn't have to be reported as such), and wealthy private donors, who can shut the cashflow off at any time if they're unsatisfied with the way their candidate behaves, who do you think said candidates are more likely to be loyal to? or to vote or legislate in favor of?

the poor people (and most of the country IS poor, the studies consistently show that most of the US population is 1-2 missed paychecks away from homelessness) who already barely have a half-filtered say in how our government runs and where the power goes? or the people who are pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into superPACs for them to play with?

before you even get to that step tho, remember that the RNC and the DNC are both in this for the money too. they might let an actually popular candidate play on stage for a while (Bernie Sanders is a good example), but anyone who might actually interrupt their stream of income is never getting the nomination.

we, as a collective, aren't picking monsters on purpose. our government and the rich people that own it have spent decades and generations setting up the system so that the only people who get to approach the seats of power are people willing to play the game, who are beholden to the highest bidder, and who don't care what happens to the actual country they're trying to run one way or the other.

gerrymandering is rampant, racism and sexism and corporate greed are the cornerstones of the government, and the only little bit of power we DO have doesn't even actually come from the raw power we hold as a population, but from the fact that the only thing that allows the us government to maintain political and military hegemony is the illusion of moral and ideological purity displayed by being a "democratic" society.

that's why no one has pulled the trigger on true mask-off authoritarianism yet. that's also why ANY attempt to band together and vote in our collective self-interest gets squelched. why do you think these bastards are so fucking scared of labor unions?

but I digress. First and foremost, the majority of the US wants an immediate end to the funding and militarization and support for Israel. Most Americans want a free Palestine, and the genocide to stop. y'all have phones and eyes and since everyone's constantly whining about how much of what happens here they have to see, I'm sure you've seen the protests and the mass mobilization of a hyper-militarized police force against those students, and anyone else who tries to substantively protest and push back against what's happening.

Most Americans want gun control. most Americans want nationalized health care. a good portion of the country wants UBI. most Americans want student debt forgiveness and free/affordable higher education. most Americans want high speed rail and cities that are pedestrian friendly and infrastructure that isn't crumbling and fucking rent control. most Americans want actual livable wages and an end to the necessity for tipping. most Americans want clean water and clean air and food that isn't killing us and a REAL response to climate change. most Americans want an end to the violence against and destruction of marginalized communities. most Americans want reproductive rights, they want access to reproductive care, they WANT all of the things that it appalls y'all that we don't have.

but, like many of the types of people y'all are so keen to make fun of, you've fallen prey to the fallacy that the actions of the government are the same as the will of the governed. that under-educated, sickly, poor people are at fault for the behaviors of global super powers. which is hysterical given how fucking cartoonishly evil and monstrous a ton of other world leaders are, and how easily you're able to distinguish between the actions of those governments and the will of the people involved in those cases.

the literal only thing we have, the only button left to us to press, is voting, and a lot of people don't even want to do that anymore bc of how little it seems to impact. we NEED to. bc if we really truly just roll over and give up the whole world is in for a fucking lot more pain. but it's understandable how people get to feeling that way. the government violently and effectively suppresses votes and protests where they can, and everyone else seems to feel justified in using dead children and homeless people and students who will never climb out of debt and people suffering from addiction who die condemned and in misery and the marginalized remnants of our government's past genocides as punchlines for your "hahahurrrhrurrr fat stupid fatty fat dumb ugly stupid FAT Americans hurrrhahahahaha" jokes.

you don't have to care. that's your business. but it feels like, if you're going to claim ongoing moral and intellectual superiority, maybe you ought to at least try to understand.

hope this helps.

[kiku91]

So originally I was adding notes to the comments, and I am not the expert at writing Big Mama’s dialogue, however there are some tricks that I’ve been using, and so far I’ve had good feedback.

I think an important thing to remember, is Big Mama doesn’t actually use that much superfluous language (see that one is a actual word for starts) and a lot of it is boiled down to adjectives/descriptive words. (Also apologizes for not having screenshots, it was too much to get pictures and quotes)

A lot of the time she is just using posh language with flowery words that are not heard very often.

“I’m flattered that you are asking for my help Draxy. May I ask exactly what it is you are moving?”

“Put this splendiferously ingenious device contraction in my safe”

A lot of the silly words that are combined are adjectives or descriptive words.

“Well, you turned my hotel into quite a fizzy winkle.”

“Mm, sounds fascinating. No, we yokai existed for thousands of eons. Most live in the Hidden City but my hotel gives them a chance to kick up their flippers and stretch out their hollydoos.”

“Heavens, no.  Unless you’re put off by blood curling battles where warriors are ripped limb to limbity limb.”

Also it seems like Big Mama will use more of her exaggerated expressions when she is in a good mood.

Big Mama: “Well, what brings you fine thuggy doodles to Big Mama?”

Leonard: “We pulled off a credit score and we’re here to give you your cut.”

Mickey: [throws the bag of loot in front of her.] “We robbed the police station!”

Big Mama: “Scrum diffy doo. How did you do that?”

I think what a lot of us struggle with, is we are overthinking just how many of Big Mama’s “silly words” are used. It’s more of an occasional thing.

“Ooh, what a brutey Behemoth. By the look of it, his quantum energy is in flux. If I had to guess, I would say your raging beast is not tethered to this dimension. In other words, he's fizzy flopping back and forth, my huggy poo.”

So to conclude my advice: Just write out her parts in what feels natural to you. Then go back and switch out some adjectives or nicknames, use a thesaurus, find the most obscure or odd word, then add or switch the suffix/ending. Think of what little kids do when they are trying to make insults by rhyming random words. Just don’t overthink it, but have fun with it! I hope this helps! Oh one more thing to add, if no one has seen this yet. But I think the one time she didn’t use any superfluous language was when the turtles were asking her where Shredder may have taken Splinter. It was like, no funny business, just seriousness. Which shows it is a quirk she likes to do when adjusting her own jargon and discourse.

Idk if this is a universal experience for rise fanfic writers but I'm STRUGGLING out here

(also yes this is the actual reason why she hasn't appeared in my seperated au yet)

[hyperfixation-hideout]

the burdensome acceptance that I'm more similar to Ozpin than I am to Oscar

[lokisgoodgirl]

Relax, Darling: Clandestine F*cks [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

Part of the Clandestine F*cks Collection [Link] A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (15) Loki limbers up those long fingers for a mischievous visit. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smut. Public sex. Threat of discovery. Secret relationship. Vaginal fingering. Language.

“Did you have fun last night?” you said brightly, as Wanda slammed her locker. She was off. You could cut the tension with a knife. You were suddenly very aware that you probably still smelled of sex. How many times had Loki made you come underneath his tongue last night? Beneath his fingers? Around his cock? You had showered this morning, but considering he had taken you in there too... “It was fine, I guess” she replied sharply, pulling her white robe over her shoulders. You tied the sash of your own tighter as she spun towards you, arms folded. You took a deep breath, the words you had wanted to say to her so many times on the tip of your tongue. “Wanda I have something to tell y-” A soft knock came at the other side of the changing room door. “We’re ready for you, ladies.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, striding towards the exit. You followed her, just catching the flash of her red hair disappear behind the dividing wall of the temporary spa. Stark had changed the open locker rooms into a massage parlour, a thank you for all the fuss of the Expo. Tall dividers on wheels separated two booths, side by side in the tiled room as relaxing music played. You heard a creak as Wanda manoeuvred herself onto her massage table, a deep groan and mumbled words in her native tongue escaping her as she discovered the heated padding. You sighed, climbing onto the empty table in front of you. She was probably hungover. After this you would grab a coffee and finally tell her. Just come out with it. I’m fucking Loki Laufeyson. Oh, and I’m also madly in love with him. A moan fluttered from your lips as you melted into the most comfortable massage table in the world, warmth beneath the cushioning soaking through your sex-ached muscles. You could get used to this; you thought as you pulled the sheet around your hips. Murmurs between Wanda and her masseur floated through the divider. The best therapists in the city, Stark had said. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, the lack of sleep catching up with you.

A finger traced your shoulder. “Madam…” the voice whispered, as you grunted in feeble acknowledgement.

“...how do you like it? Soft, or firm?” Your eyes flew open, fixed on the floor through the headrest of the table. It couldn’t be. Cautiously you raised your head, awkwardly looking behind you to see Loki standing dressed in a perfectly crisp white uniform, a name-badge superfluously fixed to his chest. His long hair was tied back, he meant business...whatever this was. Your eyebrows shot up in alarm, a silent what are you doing here mouthed as he smiled broadly. “Don’t worry darling, to anyone else seeing or hearing me – I am simply ‘Augustine’, sent here to work my magic on your body.” He wriggled his fingers. “My powers work within the tower again...” he murmured, lowering his hands to slide up your naked spine. “What about-?” you hissed, as he pressed a finger quickly to his lips. “To clarify, my true form and voice are concealed. You, however, are not affected by my current illusion, so I advise caution with your overtures of surprise my love.” He smirked knowingly as you rolled your eyes. Loki would deal with the problems raised during his evaluation later. For now, as the real Augustine busied himself happily massaging a cushion in the supply closet, he intended to have some fun. “I can assure you darling, you will have no complaints.” he purred, “now lie forward, and relax.” You took a last look at his firm torso snugly wrapped in the masseur tunic, enjoying the flex of his taunt arm muscles exposed by the short sleeves. The crisp material clung to his toned hips, skimming over those perfect thighs; the bulge in his trousers outlined sinfully against the unforgiving white fabric. A knowing smile was curling at the corner of his lips, dimples flashing as he waited for you to comply. You snuggled your face back into the table opening, letting your arms hang off the side. You had learned over the months spent with Loki that sometimes, you just had to go with it. “Perfect, Madam.” Loki said soothingly, gently feeling the muscles of your back. The sound of oil being rubbed between his hands slicked the air, the scent of lavender filling your nostrils. You groaned softly as he began to work his palms across your skin, his long fingers finding every inch of aching flesh that needed his touch. Pressure points you didn’t know existed relented under the work of his hands, soft clicks peppering the air as your body yielded to his masterful pressure.

The sides of his palms trailed a firm line up your spine, sparking every needy pocket of neglected muscle with searing pleasure. “Mmmmm…” you moaned softly through closed lips, feeling his fingers brush lovingly across the back of your exposed neck. Loki being an expert on finding every kink and knot across your body shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering it was likely he that put them there. He caressed each inch of your skin with finesse, firmly squeezing and sliding across your limbs with his powerful grip. His thumbs travelled down the backs of your calf, ending in a tight press at the juncture of your ankle. You groaned against the table, hearing him chuckle behind you as the soothing music played on. After what felt like hours, Loki’s touch disappeared as his shoes came into view beneath your head. “Are you feeling suitably untangled, darling?” he leant to whisper in your ear, his warm breath skimming across your cheek. “Mmhmm...but, I think you missed a bit” you mumbled, wary of the voices conversing sporadically on the other side of the thin divider. “Did I?” Loki purred coyly, massaging the back of your neck with one large hand. “Oh dear.” His dexterous fingers slid down either side of your back, tracing the waves of your ribcage as your breaths staggered against the light touch. “Say when…” he whispered. You were on fire. His fingertips grazed your lower back, teasing the sheet that covered your ass down as your breath hitched. They cupped the underside of your hipbones lightly, as you involuntarily raised your pelvis off the table below. “When.” you gasped quietly, cursing your neediness. It wasn’t your fault your lover was the most irresistible being in all the known universe. What was a girl to do? Loki’s low chuckle from behind made your muscles clench, the curve of your ass tightening as he gently patted the skin with a soft slap. “Relax, Madam” he said, the professional overture of his sultry voice making you scream internally. The thought of Wanda a few meters away receiving her own treatment flashed in your mind, her masseur working his own brand of magic. You could hear him checking in with her as she grunted a semi-conscious reply, too engrossed in the bliss of the moment to form words.

Instinctually your legs widened on the bed, closing your eyes. Something about not being able to see him, not being able to move freely; made every muscle in your body fizz like hot oil. 'You, however, are not affected by my current illusion, so I advise caution with your overtures of surprise.' You groaned inwardly, remembering his words. His teasing was voracious, his enjoyment testing the limits of your sensory capacities, endless. This was taking your necessary kink for quiet pleasures to a whole new level. Loki’s fingers toyed between your legs, finding your ready pussy soaking with arousal. “Love…” he murmured approvingly, “did you truly miss me that much in the hours we've been apart?” You sighed as he slipped one finger easily inside you. You knew his palm faced the ceiling by the way the base of it pressed against the curve of your upper thighs. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting a moan as he slid another finger into your wet pussy to join the first. “Relax, darling” he rumbled soothingly, sliding his fingers fluidly back and forth. You gasped as they slipped outside your core, deftly riding through your lips and over your swollen clit in a sizzling symphony before returning to the warm heat of your cunt. You turned your head from the table opening, pressing your forehead against the padding to the side. Fuuuck, Loki, you wanted to cry; the strangled words flaming within your throat. That was one way for Wanda to find out. Your desperate fingers gripped the bars beneath the folding bed as he worked you with finesse, taunting you with his own moans of arousal, concealed by his magic. “Darling you’re so wet. To think my cock was inside this precious warmth not two hours ago…” Your grip on the bars beneath you tightened, every word from his lips only heard by your ears driving you closer to the forbidden brink. "Do you like when I take care of you, darling? Knowing that your god is on hand to provide all the relief you require? To sate all of your needs and desires...gods you're so wet, love." A judder from your hips pressed you back against his horizontal hand as he chuckled, feeling your walls clench. “Not so fast” he murmured, slowly curling his fingers as you groaned loudly. “That’s a particularly sensitive knot, I see…” Loki said pointedly. You could only assume it sounded like the allusive Augustine to those in earshot. Your toes pointed sharply as he began to massage your clit. The sticky wetness from your slick pussy clung to his wide fingertip, making every slip of his digit pure ecstasy. Loki's free hand began to firmly rub your ass, pushing the soft flesh upward as he rocked your hips gently. "Relax, darling...good girl, yes...mmm, let daddy tame you."

You felt another moan rising in your throat, biting down on the padding of the table in an attempt to silence it. The climax in your belly building at an alarming rate under the pulse of his finger, the dirty whispers hanging in the air, unbearable. You clenched again under the pressure as Loki’s breathy pants heightened, feeling how close you were to release. “Let go for me, darling” he whispered, “I can feel you tightening, let go…” At the whisper of his words, your forehead creased in desperation. A silent scream thundered through your body, escaping your lips as a low sigh against the table. Your shaking orgasm rolled, the strange angle making you brace down, trapping his fingers between your tightened legs. Loki purred sweet praises above you, rubbing the small of your back as your thighs quivered around his wrist. The enforced silence was a familiar friend, the resulting rush of climactic adrenaline overloading your senses as white noise flushed your brain. Your arm flapped to the side, caught by his hand before squeezing him tightly. You knew your nails would leave marks, a lingering thought as you rode bliss through its final throes. You flipped your hair to the side as Loki lowered to your level and sucked his fingers between his lips with a wink. “The benefits of a more tailored service, darling. Wouldn’t you agree?” he murmured, watching with amusement as you smiled dreamily. His hand squeezed your shoulder, trailing the naked skin. A flicker of concern traced his brow, like a memory of a forgotten place. A ghost. “Darling there’s something I need to discuss with you, but not here...” he traced your jawline, his thumb brushing your lips, “however you cannot tell Wanda about us. Not yet.” His eyes flickered up to the divider, shadows of movement from the other side indicating your best friend’s treatment was at an end. “Promise me.” he whispered, the tone of his voice sending shivers through your naked body. You nodded, noting the relief in his eyes with increasing wariness as he lowered his gaze with a thoughtful sigh. This wasn’t like him. Loki leant forward, placing a lingering kiss on your lips. You grasped to pull him closer, but he stood, shaking his head. “It’s time, darling. I’ll see you this afternoon at the briefing.”

You pouted, watching him slip out the door dressed in his little white uniform; making a note to ask him to keep it on hand for another occasion. Stretching your arms to the side, you heard a shuffle cross the floor. You propped your hands under your chin just in time to see a satisfied Wanda pop her head around the divider. “Feeling better?” you smiled, enjoying the blissful look on her face. Her masseur slipped behind you with a curt nod. “Take your time, ladies” he said before exiting quietly, leaving the two of you alone with only the plinking rainforest sounds for company. Wanda passed you a glass of water, perching at the end of your bed. “I’ll feel even better once you tell me exactly how long you’ve been banging Laufeyson…” she said sweetly, making you spit your water across the floor. “I--” you stuttered, remembering Loki’s words. But it was too late, and really...whatever his concern was, it couldn’t be that bad. You sighed. “I’m so sorry Wanda, I wanted to tell you I just…” You trailed off, looking at her face twisted in disapproval. Her usually trusting eyes laced with suspicion before she finally slapped the table beneath her palm. “I knew you were getting some” she muttered, “I just knew it”. She leant forward and smacked your butt, making you giggle. “I’m still pissed at you” she said huffily, a reluctant smile playing at her lips, “but you can make it up to me by telling me everything. You can start with that ‘cookie dough’ comment last weekend which now I am gagging to know more about you absolute slut…” You both burst out laughing, the sound ringing around the tiled room. “How did you know?” you managed to say between breaths as she wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. “Oh, seeing you halfway to fucking backstage last night was a pretty big clue” she shrugged, seeing your eyes widen. “Hey, I was looking for you!” she exclaimed dramatically, pre-empting your disapproval. There was a pause. You felt like a weight had been lifted, breathing deeply as you relished the moment of clarity. Wanda spoke first. “So how long have you been lying to me?” she asked, her lips tugging in a smile. You sat up, pulling the sheet around your chest. “Four months” you said, shame coursing through you as she narrowed her eyes. A low hum came from her as she considered your words, repeating them slowly as she extended your anxiety with purpose. “Well…it seems you have a lot of filthy details to catch me up on” she smiled coyly, grasping both your hands in hers. “Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head shyly as she squealed with excitement, bouncing on the massage table. “This is so exciting, Y/N... you have no idea. Everyone is going to lose their minds.” Your eyes widened as you gripped her hands tighter. “No one can know, Wanda. Not yet. Before, it was me...I, was afraid it would change things. But now...Loki...I don’t know, I need to speak to him. Something’s just happened and I-” Wanda frowned; the disappointment evident in her face giving way to suspicion as she pursed her lips to the side. “Wait, something’s happened? When?” You smiled, the confusion spreading on your friend’s face a reminder of all the titbits from the last four months she was yet to hear. It was going to blow her mind. “It’s a long story” you giggled, “but you’ll hear all of it, I promise. Well, most of it. But no one else can know. Promise me.” She rolled her eyes before pulling you towards her in a tight hug. The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, the sheen of oil covering your skin making the embrace feel closer. Deeper. “I love you, Y/N. You and Laufeyson's secret is safe with me, but no more secrets between us, OK?” “No more secrets, Wanda” you murmured gratefully against her hair.

- Tags @lokischambermaid @lokiprompts @trickster-maiden @peaches1958 @123forgottherest @muddyorbs @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @michelleleewise @ficitve-sl0th @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @wheredafandomat @ladylovesloki @lokikissesmyforehead @animnerd @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lokisninerealms @thedistractedagglomeration @ravenwings73 @evelyn-kingsley @dustychinchilla74 @mcufan72 @ozymdias @five-miles-over @handsaroundmyneck @simplyholl @toozmanykids @filthyhiddles @anonymousfiction211 @gracecaldwellx @lonesomegrace @mistress-ofmagic @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @fictional-hooman @chantsdemarins @cakesandtom @mad4marvelloki @gigglingtigger @skymoonandstardust @imalovernotahater @yelkmelk @thomase1 @kats72 @sititran @xorpsbane @loki-laufeyson-1054 @mochie85 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

[duckprintspress]

How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

[badass-at-fandoming]

Good news, everyone! It's adore Hesha Ruhadze hours. 🌠

Now featuring Intense Homoerotic Eye Contact, language games with elders, murder-flirting, and succumbing to Presence so hard you gotta take breaks mid-staking attempt to simp.

All screenshots from Beckett's Jyhad Diary's "Death Has Many Faces" chapter. The tl;dr is the Necromancers stage a "family meeting." Nominally to hash out issues, but actually to kidnap Isabel Giovanni. Beckett is encouraged to be as annoying as possible, as a treat.

Image IDs under the cut:

[[Image ID 1, a snippet from Beckett's diary, in his own hand,

Hesha and I held an energized conversation in my hotel room. By its end, I wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss me or kill me.]]

[[Image ID 2, a snippet from Beckett's diary,

A male in an elaborate sun mask awaited my appearance. He introduced himself if Farsi as Khurshid of the Lazarenes. We cycled through a few dialects and languages, partly to test one another, partly to have something to talk about other than the eerie silence. As a sidenote, I often play language games with elders to put them at ease. It's a fun pasttime.]]

[[Image ID 3, a transcript of the arranged "family meeting" of necromancy clan representatives. An additional note from Okulos has been taped in,

Khurshid: It implies rank within my line, though I confess that being among you, it is superfluous. I shall remove it.

Beckett: Ugh.

Hesha: Beckett... Khurshid, please accept my Clan's apologies for the archeologist's behavior. It is NOT appropriate.

Beckett: Did you just kick me beneath the table? Or is Isabel jousting with my inner thigh?

Isabel: How do you get anything from your interviews, Animal? How do your guests tolerate you?

Beckett: I suspect my habits are infinitely more acceptable than what you reputedly bring to a dinner party, my dear.

Note from Okulos: Seconded. You're an oaf --O]]

[[Image 4, transcript continued,

Angelique: I am holding back from ripping the Venetian's head from her shoulders. I am maintaining the peace.

Beckett: Isabel likes that kind of thing. Argh!

Hesha: Last warning.

Isabel: I swear to Dispater I will skin you, Animal. You have no place here.

Beckett: Apologies. I know there is much to argue and recriminate over in this room, and I feel it important to focus on other things.]]

[Image 5, transcript continued,

Isabel: Can we all agree to not attack one another?

Khurshid: No.

Isabel: Pardon?

Khurshid: The Gangrel voted against Cappadocian admission to the forming Camarilla. Their vote was integral to the Clan of Death's survival.

Beckett: On behalf of my Clan--

Hesha: You do not have any authority to speak for the Clan of Beasts. Do you want it to get back to the Inner Circle that you're apologizing for the Convention of Thorns?

Beckett: Possibly not.

[RECORDING ENDS]]

[[Image 6, bullet point from Beckett's diary,

- Hesha passively takes in every word. I know that look. He's studying every party at the table like a snake waiting to strike, if you excuse the weak poetry of that statement.]]

[[Image 7, final snippet from Beckett's diary,

No sooner were we in Alexandria's library--my present location--than we all oddly began to compliment Hesha for his grace in escaping unharmed. He reinforced the effect with an hypnotic stare at Isabel, at which point I felt compelled to jam a chair leg through her heart.

It took multiple attempts. Hesha's ambient brilliance distracted me, for whatever reason. Thankfully, Khurshid and Josette assisted in snaring Isabel as she attempted to flee, despite her breaking Josette's ribs with a powerful blow.

Hesha stuffed Isabel into a large suitcase and informed us she was on a one-way trip to Cairo's Dream Court. This is where she wanted to go, but I assume not in such an economical mode of transportation.]]

[infinitevariety]

Fic Writer Tag

Thank you @teslatherat for the tag <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

Total-total, across both pseuds, is 79.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

260,826

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Erm, three I guess. Good Omens is my main fandom. I wrote one crossover with Donna Noble from Doctor Who. And I used to write Harry Potter fic, but drifted away from that, and then JK Terf happened so I’m not about to drift back.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I’m only gonna talk about my Good Omens fics, because that’s what we’re all here for.

Angel Wiggles™

Crowley wants to make Aziraphale happy enough to wiggle.

Taking Some Pictures or Something

On a road trip to the South Downs Crowley gives Aziraphale his phone to take photos of the views. However, Aziraphale doesn't know how the phone works and spends all day accidentally posting to Crowley's Instagram story.

Like Any Rose It’s Not Itself

A single white rose grows from one of Crowley’s plants. Which is weird, because none of his plants are rose bushes.

Find It in the Dictionary Under ‘L’

Demons can’t feel love, but Aziraphale can’t help noticing how much Crowley’s suddenly flinging the word around.

(Probably Something That Shouldn’t Be) Said Out Loud

Crowley hasn’t been sleeping well since the world didn’t end, but when he falls asleep on the bookshop sofa he’s not the only one who has to deal with his nightmare.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

To comments on my Good Omens fics, yes. Because it’s the fandom I’m active in, and I want commenters to know I see and appreciate them! <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Erm. I don’t really do angst. The ineffables are my happy place, and I pretty much only write fluffy shit (sorry not sorry). About the angsiest I get is bickering, and even then it doesn’t end on a bad note.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I wrote a short Good Omens crossover with Donna Noble from Doctor Who. It’s called Come and Meet Us. It’s not crazy at all I don’t think?

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate. I’ve had a couple of rude or obnoxious comments, but I just delete them because they are not worth my energy.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not for the ineffables I don’t. I’ll read it as part of a larger story or if it’s an interesting concept, but the ineffables I write are asexuals. I rarely even have them kiss, tbh. (Though my best friend and beta is always pushing for a lip smack!)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A couple of times, way back in the day on an old account. It was a lot of fun.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

The ineffables. They just… have that ying/yang dynamic while also being soft as fuck, and it’s just so wonderful to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hmm. Probably ‘Aziraphale is Oscar Wilde’. I get really tired of (at this point) even seeing Oscar Wilde’s name in fics. Aziraphale having slept with/been in a relationship with/been friends with him. At some point I wanted to do something different, so I played with the idea that Aziraphale was Oscar Wilde, writing under a pseudonym. But I’m not likely ever gonna follow through and actually write it.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. At least, I tend to write a lot of dialogue. Where are the characters and what are they doing? Who knows! But they talk a lot.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I dislike superfluous descriptions when I’m reading, and I’m exactly the same when I write. Possibly to the extent that I don’t write enough. Look, they’re in a kitchen—imagine whatever counter top and colour scheme you want, it has zero bearing on the story.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t often do it, because I’ve never really had the need. Especially with Good Omens, where in the show, even when they would’ve been speaking another language, they’re speaking English for the sake of the audience.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. We’ve been here, it’s tainted by that terf-bag now.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

My favourite, because it was entirely self-indulgent and fun and needed hours of “research” and note-taking, is You Know the Answer (So Scream It Out Loud).

Tagging? Ugh. I hate this popularity contest. I’ll tag folk I’d be interested in reading the answers of, if they wanna do it and haven’t already… @hope-inthedark @morosexual-aziraphale @cheeriosandwine

[jasontoddiefor]

Please ramble about your new Au? I like ramble.

And there goes my self control xD

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi, a high-profile officer on the research vessel The Negotiator, seeks out Anakin Skywalker, former General of the Imperial Army. Skywalker, being one of the few humans who survived imprisonment with the Hutts, was incredibly valuable to Obi-Wan’s goals at seeing a united and peaceful galaxy. If only the man weren’t so stubborn and dead-set on staying out of the powers at play in their galaxy.

“Ahsoka, trall.”

The young togruta shot Skywalker a suspicious look, opening her mouth in what would certainly be protest, but when he shook his head, she closed it again.

“Tritrokta, Anakin,” she muttered, but then did as told and left the room. Obi-Wan hadn’t known that Skywalker had a companion, never mind such a young non-human one. It wasn’t exactly the Empire’s style to team up with other species. Then again, Skywalker hadn’t been with the Empire for a while.

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said. “Moyo imya Obi-Wan Kenobi. Ya chlen Galatic Aliansa. Ty speak na Basike?”

The Empire’s officers usually knew Basic, though some of them preferred to speak the Angli-heavier variant of it. Obi-Wan didn’t expect Skywalker to be one of them, his files had made him out to be more of a polyglot, but it was polite to ask, and Obi-Wan had to make a good impression. That Skywalker had sent his companion out of the room already said enough about how much he trusted him.

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed and he set his spanner on his workbench. “Who ne speak Basic? What ty hochesh?”

Obi-Wan wanted a lot of things. He wanted the Empire to dissolve, he wanted the Alliance to loosen its hold on the F.O.R.C.E. users and allow them proper training and he wanted everyone in the galaxy to lay down their weapons and come together in peace.

He would likely get none of that anytime soon.

“I’d like for you to listen to my offer,” he said instead.

.

So @writing-is-thorapy and I were talking about a galaxy not so far away. And this aligned perfectly with me remembering the @lingthusiasm episodes about Space pidgin and how thanks to the Space Race, languages of space are English and Russianx which, over time, would develop into a creole so that the first language of space would be this creole.

That being said, if you look at a galaxy not so far away, Basic, as we know it, would be the end result of this pidgin. So what I’m now writing about is basically humanity still taking its first steps into the galaxy, learning its place as thousands of other species do it at the same time. And part of that, is learning how to communicate!

Sadly, I don’t have any audio bits of this Runglish and therefore have to make do by bothering my Russian friend for translating things for me and then checking whether I messed it up to much.

In this particular setting, Obi-Wan speaks the Russian heavier Basike while Anakin speaks the English heavier Basic. The grammar of both languages is fairly similar, though the distribution of how heavily the influence of either on the vocabulary is, differs.

This is the actual convo in both:

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am a member of the Galactic Alliance. Do you speak Basic?”

“Who doesn’t speak Basic? What do you want?”

Obi-Wan: Privet. Moyo imya Obi-Wan Kenobi. Ya chlen Galakticheskogo Aliansa. Ty govorish na Basike?

Anakin: Kto ne govorit na Basike? Chego ty hochesh?

Additional linguistic rambles:

greeting words like hi/hello are english, but since they are used in more and more languages, so i decided to keep those for Basic

I like the fact that you drop the “to be” in russian when it's superfluous so i did that here as well.

I decided to go with "galactic" bc that's the shorter word and langauges tend to go for most efficient with least words.

I kept russian pronouns, but I think I'll stick to using nominative case and go with less case marking.

Since Obi-Wan uses the russian heavier Basike while Anakin uses the more anglicized Basic, Anakin drops the preposition while Obi-Wan keeps it.

And then, while not shown here, you have Anakin and Ahsoka, who communicate in a mix of Huttese, Togruti (language they use at the start), and Basic.

Of course, there’s a lot of work to be done - establish a usable grammar for the Basics, a sound bank, though nothing as extensive as I’m doing for Dai Bendu - but I think this is a fun project. Ideally, every dialogue would be written in the creole/slangs I’ll use, but I think people would riot when reading.

So, this is my new AU: Star Wars but before anything recognizeable exists and everything is Linguistics.

[scarlettaagni]

left on read

“Oh,” Zola exclaimed aloud. “that reminds me,” she continues in signs.

“Did you ever get our messages?”

Missy paused in using their knives as whetting stones for one another and glanced at her.

“What messages?” they signed back.

“We sent messages out to deep space decades ago in search of intelligent life.” Zola’s eyes sparkled with wonder as she leaned forward.

“How long ago was this?”

“We’ve been doing it for a while... since the 60s?”

“Those numbers mean nothing to me. How many Earth revolutions ago was this?”

“Over 40 of those ago.”

Missy stroked their chin in thought, still clutching the knife.

“What did it contain?”

“Lots of different messages, some are signals, some are physical records on spacecraft. Those records had photos of human experiences, math, maps, science... Human music from all over the globe, and a dozen human languages telling whoever received it that we wanted them to visit, to say something back, that we mean well.”

She sat back on her knees.

“Did your kind ever get them?”

Missy raised her head up in a near-recognition, as if to recall from faint memory.

“Those messages. Yes, we did get them.”

Zola sat even further backwards in incredulity.

“Why didn’t you ever send something back to us?”

Missy scraped one of their knives against the other, creating a spark. They paused again, draping a hand over their bent knee.

“Because humans wouldn’t care to get to know us.”

“Don’t say that. We’re getting along just fine.”

The Young Blood scraped their knives aggressively yet again, seemingly out of contempt.

“We keep our existence hidden from humans. For good reasons. I don’t imagine they would like the planet of human-Hunters to respond to pleas of goodwill and companionship. Not that we would want it, anyways.”

They looked up in thought, tapped their fingers upon their knee, then signed again.

“The history between you and I, is different than the history between our peoples.”

Zola couldn’t muster a quick response, twisting her mouth in awkward silence.

“Well... did you guys at least learn something from it?”

Missy once again looked up, but inhaled and exhaled deeply, out of annoyance.

“It would have been useful information... 300,000 of your human years ago. We’ve known most, if not all, of what could be considered ‘useful’ on those discs long before they were sent out. The rest was considered irrelevant.”

Zola sank, and looked down in agreed disappointment.

“Such as the music?”

Missy looked at her.

“Yes. Irrelevant. The fauna and human voice samples were appreciated, as were the brainwaves. Good references for language, fauna identification, and living human vitals. If not in a very primitive format, and potentially outdated.”

Zola barely looked up, continuing a downcast glance to a random spot on her bed.

“Are you the only other intelligent species in the galaxy?”

“No,” Missy signed frankly. “but you all are in quite a dead zone. We’re the only ones nearby because we travel to you frequently. We are always on or by Earth. We have been for over 300,000 years.”

“So, we’re not alone, but we are lonely.”

“That is a contradiction. I do not understand.”

Zola extended her arms grandly, rolling her wrists dramatically, purposefully near Missy’s face.

“We’re just calling out into empty space, and the only people who can hear us don’t care. If we call and someone nearby doesn’t respond, they might as well not be there. There are others nearby, but we don’t know they’re there. So we aren’t alone, but we feel lonely.”

She tucked her arms back to her side, splayed out.

In the ensuing silence, Missy put their knives down onto the bedsheets beside them and leaned over ever so slightly, staring at Zola. Quietly, they raised their hands, the sign version of inhaling in preparation of speech.

“...I was young when we received those messages. Only a little older when got our hands on those records. They were broadcast planet-wide.”

Zola perked up.

“Really?”

Missy leaned back, their head contacting the wall as if relaxing, idly glancing into space with nostalgia.

“Humans hadn’t perfected interstellar travel yet—you still haven’t—and we knew you were not aware of extraterrestrial life, so when all of a sudden humans managed to send a message we could pick up, it was a commotion.”

They glanced over at Zola with what almost seemed a sympathetic look.

“It was like a joke. Patronizing, if you will. We all knew those messages asking for us to respond and come to Earth would not be met with the promised goodwill. Humans were not ready for a third party to reveal themselves. Humans can barely handle other humans. Some saw it as an insult. Or a threat, a trick. Most found it amusing.”

Before Zola’s rekindled joy could escape, Missy planted it down with a hand on her shoulder.

“But I thought it was delightful. It is very one-half of human behavior to send such messages.”

“One-half?”

“The other half is what my kind see when we reveal ourselves.”

“Ah.” Zola vocalized aloud. She looked aside awkwardly, but looked back with a good-natured smile. “What did you do with the records?”

“Saved their contents, and put them back. If you want to send messages into deep space where no one can read it, who were we to stop you?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Zola sat straight up. “You just have a copy of the entire thing, ready to view?”

“I could request access to our copy, but... do humans not...?”

“See, for a long time it wasn’t available to the public, but a few years ago, the audio was made so. But can you do the...”

Zola mimed typing over her left forearm, pinching her fingers together, then expanding them as she lifted her hand up, sound effects provided with her mouth.

“... that? It was audio and visual. Oh, I know you said you all already know what the contents were, but I could explain them better!”

She clapped her hands and cupped them around her face.

“I’m having movie night with an alien...” she sighed with wonder.

Missy hesitantly opened their wristcom and input the request.

“It needs to be approved for access first. If I am denied, we can listen to the human copy instead.”

“That’s not as fun.”

For several minutes, Zola awaited with bated breath as Missy stared at the REQUEST PENDING notification in her biomask vision.

“Will it be, like, hours until it reaches your planet?”

“It should be quicker than that, if not instantaneous.”

Suddenly, the display blinked from PENDING, to a flashing APPROVED banner with an OVERRIDE COMMAND subtitle before disappearing.

“He... said yes?” they clicked aloud, blinking their eyes and shaking their head to regain their bearings. Noticing their surprise, Zola placed a hand on Missy’s arm and leaned in, beaming.

“You got it? They said yes?!”

Missy silently nodded their head, furrowing their brow in confusion as they slowly opened the recording.

“Why did he say yes? It was so superfluous...”

They closed the analog display on their wristcom and activated the holo-projector, shooting a light construct visualization of the audio pattern of English speech, the accompanying audio emanating from Missy’s biomask.

Zola leapt across the room to dim her lights, then dived back onto her bed, and yanked her phone from her dresser.

As she scrolled, Missy carefully slipped the gauntlet off, and placed it between the two of them.

“Okay, so,” Zola began to sign, thumbing over the Wikipedia page of the Voyager’s contents. “This is the Secretary-General of the United Nations... from over 40 years ago. Like their leader, an overseer.”

“Was he defeated in combat?”

“... no. I wish he was, he sounds like a fucking tool. Oh, oh! This is the greeting track! This one is Sumerian...”

Zola looked up at the holograms, a quick second of eye contact with Missy past it, and back down at the phone for information which she interpreted to ASL.

Missy listened closely to her voice past the message, and only looked past the holograms, at Zola’s delighted smile, framed by warm cheeks.

[crookedcatavenue]

Groupie Love ( Izzy Stradlin X Reader)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: (y / n) is in love about the 1985 Los Angeles night, but more than that, for the guitarist for one of the bands on the sunset strip.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Mentions of drugs, sex and alcohol.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.998 words

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: Hello! I am very happy to finally be posting this imagine, I have already posted other guns fanfictions in other platforms, but this is the first time here on tumblr and... Out of my native language. Then forgive any mistake, I hope you'll like it and if you do, give your feedback so I will be able to continue.

The strong smell of hairspray flooded the room along with a long cloud of smoke from the spray, (Y/N) coughed heavily and raised a hand to his nose when the product reached his nostrils.

"Don't you think you've already put in too much?" (Y/N) wanted to know, laughing lightly, while watching her friend set her hair in a bleached blond tone even more.

"No. The more volume the better," Michelle shot back with an amused little smile in the corner of her face.

It was Saturday night. The city of angels invited all young people to a bohemian and wild diversion on the three kilometers of the Sunset Strip, the mythical stretch of Sunset Boulevard. During the day everything seemed peaceful and dull, however when the sun went down and the night swallowed up the Los Angeles sky it was the moment when life seemed to make sense to the youth. With the opening of bars and nightclubs, this was where the rock scene in the 1980s began.

"Do you think Donna and Montana will be able to leave the house?" (Y/N) asked with superfluous concern. The Clarke sisters had been friends with her since elementary school, after a few years when the three entered high school, they met, Michelle, and soon the girl quartet became inseparable. However, the Clarke sisters came from an extremely religious family, and every time the four friends left, they had to come up with a well-designed and convincing excuse for Donna's mother and Montana.

"I hope so, last time we almost missed the time to enter the club waiting for them," he mumbled taking a last look in the mirror, checking if his hair was his taste, when he saw that yes, she turned to help (Y/N) putting on makeup.

Michelle reached for her eyeliner, pulled the cap slightly with her mouth, and leaned over (Y/N).

"Nothing too exaggerated, Shell," She subtly asked her friend, who just rolled her eyes and touched the tip of the brush over the inner corner of (Y/N)'s eye, carefully drawing a line and pulling the movable eyelid to the outer corner.

"What is it, girl?" You need to take a little more risk! Put that jacket we bought last week with those shorts, and you will look amazing.

(Y / N) snapped his tongue over his teeth and just limited himself to a little snort, so as not to disturb the effort and attention that his friend was giving to his makeup.

"Today we are going to Gazzarri's, I heard that there will be a concert by Rose in one of the hundreds of flyers spread across the street from the record store," She informed her, moving away from a little and checking with a proud smile her masterpiece made on her friend.

Rose was one of the dozens of bands that were born there in West Hollywood.

A knock sounded on the door and soon after it was opened, presenting the Clarke sisters in their well-behaved and pastel-colored clothes, without anything too glamorous or exaggerated.

"Get ready soon! Or Todd won't help us get into the club,” Michelle announced bluntly, and the sisters quickly fetched some clothes from the wardrobe in her friend's room.

"You look like a rockstar, (Y / N)," Montana praised grabbing platform-heeled boots from somewhere in Michelle's room.

(Y / N) smiled in thanks and Michelle soon interrupted the small dialogue between the girls.

"And you are a nun," the girl shot, and received Montana's middle finger in response "Come on, girls, this is ours tonight!"

When (Y / N), cheered up with the friend's phrase, she got up from the bed with excitement, however, she soon pulled again.

"Calm down, sweetie, I haven't done the other eye yet"

Gazzarri's.

The night air on Sunset Boulevard seemed to fill (Y / N) 's lungs with a breath of euphoria. The girl felt freedom and happiness filling every inch of her interior at that moment. Besides her friends, who sang some David Bowie songs, she could finally be herself and let her wild and partying soul dominate her body, which looked more like a prison on other days.

When they arrived at Gazzarri's, there was a man a few years older than (Y / N) and her friends, waiting for them with a cigarette between their fingers. On the opposite side there was a long line of people waiting for their turn to enter the club, everyone seemed excited and euphoric that night as well as (Y / N).

"There you are, I thought you weren't coming," She spoke with a special and hungry look on Michelle, who just shrugged.

"And miss the opportunity to see you, sweetie?" She replied in a tone full of malice.

The man laughed softly, throwing his head back and encouraging them to join the club. (Y / N) followed them with Montana and Donna in pursuit, and the instant they crossed the second partition of the establishment, she felt her body being introduced to an atmosphere with an odor of nicotine, sex, and drink. A cloud of smoke hung over the place, leaving the girl's body a little more charged. A cough from the back of his throat upset him for a moment, and in order not to look like an idiot child, he chose to head over to the bar and ask for something to wet his mouth.

"I'm going to get a drink," he warned the sisters before peering between some people on the way to the bar. Gazzarri's was extremely crowded that night, and observed the girl looking around. When the bartender came towards her, she nodded in greeting: - A soda, please.

The man cast an amused look at (Y / N), however, he soon tried to fetch the drink.

"Coke will not make you drunk... At most with a little gas," an amused voice came from the right side of the girl who looked in the direction of the person who said that.

The guy had a spontaneous and fun aura, his blond hair was wild, and (Y / N) didn't understand how his cheeks didn't hurt due to his open and continuous smile.

"Let's say I don't intend to get drunk," he replied promptly "Not now. The show hasn't even started yet, so it loses its grace."

The man tilted his head to the side and rubbed his nose slightly.

"Until you're right," he agreed.

The bartender returned and handed (Y / N) his soda with a straw and walked away to the next customer. At the same moment, the girl sucked the cold, gas-filled liquid, which ran down her throat, ceasing the uncomfortable itch caused by the smoke in the room.

"So... What brings you here?" the smiling blonde close to (Y / N) asked with cautious curiosity.

"Well, it's a little obvious, don't you think?" (Y / N) gave the man a playful smile which he received with an embarrassed frown.

"Yeah, it was a fucking stupid question," he apologized with a look.

(Y / N) mentally cursed himself for being slightly rude to the boy, he seemed to be a nice person, even though she knew that part of his behavior was part of her "flirting".

"Is that you?" he looked at her again with a slightly confused face due to the question, and (Y / N) he tried to reformulate the sentence: "What are you doing here? In addition to trying to get girls drunk."

He opened another smile and straightened her hair.

"Let's say I'm looking for a guitarist and a vocalist for my band," counted on a unique excitement in his voice, you could see the sparkle in the back of his eyes, how much that meant to him "Me and my friend..." he looked over his shoulder looking for someone who was no longer there "… That must be somewhere around here."

(Y / N) let her eyes travel around the club for an instant, she saw no sign of Donna or Montana, as Michelle knew that the moment they entered one of those establishments she went directly to her heavy and special fun with drugs, (Y / N) had no opinion or thought formulated about that subtle addiction of her friend, however, she used nothing, she preferred to stay away from that universe.

"Did you say... A band? It looks cool," stressed the girl returning to the conversation with the blonde.

"Yeah, I think the guys I'm looking for are going to take the stage soon," he looked for a moment at the stage, in which a band would start playing.

(Y / N) studied the man in front of him a little more, and after a few moments decided to give him a chance.

"Hey, how about we do it like this, if the next band sucks we can get drunk in response to our frustration."

He broke into another big smile, and nodded, with his blonde mane shaking like popcorn.

It didn't take long for the band Rose to take the stage, the audience applauded for a long minute and then the show started.

They had a nice sound, however, it seemed that something was missing between the members and the music. (Y / N) commented something here and there with the smiling blonde beside him. It was about how the vocalist seemed crazy with his unique voice and his stage presence, or about the guitarist on the right side of the latter.

The man seemed to be enveloped in his mysterious and intimate bubble, his long black hair falling over his eyes and making his face taper. He looked like he was born to be a rock star. With the guitar down on his knee, (Y / N) he couldn't take his eyes off the guitarist, his movements seemed to have completely caught the girl's attention, and every time he looked up at the crowd her heart seemed to accelerate a little more and his belly was freezing timidly, when he realized the whole show was reduced only to him, in her eyes.

When a long moment passed, someone nudged (Y / N) 's arm incessantly, the performance was over, and she turned to the smiling blonde.

"It seems that today we are not going to get drunk," She said amused twisting her mouth.

"Yeah ... Damn they are awesome!" Exclaimed the man, jumping excitedly from the bench.

"What are your guys?" (Y / N) asked the man with his eyes fixed on the mysterious guitarist still on stage, exchanging a few words with the drummer.

The man lifted his neck, moistened his lips and indicated his finger in the direction of the stage:

"Okay... The guy who looks like Johnny Thunders and the sinister redhead on his side," he said looking back to (Y / N) "I heard that they have been friends since childhood, came from Indiana."

"Yeah, you did nice research on them," the girl laughed lightly.

The man smiled at the comment and jumped off the bench, adjusting his button-down shirt.

"So, let's go talk to them? Then we can go out for a drink or something as soon as I find my friend," muttered the last part, taking another look around the room.

(Y / N) was tempted to accept the invitation, and as much as the idea of ​​being inches away from the guitarist in that band, she still needed to find her friends.

"How about we leave it for the next one? I have to find some friends and we can't be gone that long," She said and made an apologetic expression to the amused blonde.

"Okay, then, see you on any of these nights," He said goodbye with another of his smiles and waved his hand.

Before departing completely, (Y / N) called him by the man making him turn confused among the crowd.

"Good luck with the band, man!" She yelled over the music that sounded there.

"Steven ... My name is Steven," He yelled back before being swallowed by the sea of ​​people there.

[hayjeon]

Practical Tips on getting your fics out there!

I’ve gotten an influx of these types of questions here recently, and the more i thought about what i was gonna add, it became really long :(  

disclaimer: a lot of the things i bring up are just from personal experience as a writer on this site, what my followers have told me they appreciate, and what i tend to look for when im looking for fics to read! If you don’t like these tips then pls move on :) 

although i’ll mention them, i’m also not going to be focusing on cliche tips like “write for yourself” or “grammar issues” cause those are pretty obvious!

1. accessibility of your blog 

when you’re trying to get your name out there, make sure that you’re creating an inviting experience for any potential followers! this includes:

a memorable url! be creative!

have some fun designing your blog’s aesthetic! (i love cute blogs because it reflects a bit of the writer’s personality), and (i prefer blogs with white backgrounds because it’s easier to look through/read, say, in contrast to a pitch black one where the words need to be white!) 

put your masterlist link in your bio (even better if you can link most recent fic! found this most helpful when i revisit authors that i like and can easily see if they’ve updated or not)

an organized and easy-to-navigate masterlist (personally, i prefer masterlists organized by band, instead of types of fics ie. i hate when i have to choose between drabbles, oneshots, and series masterlists; i really prefer to see them altogether!) --> see section 3 

organized tags (if you’re going to be posting a lot of non-fic-related content like pictures or videos, tag them properly so followers can sort through and find your fics easily!), or (if you’re going to be writing in different mediums like drabbles, or answering asks, make sure to use a unified #mine or #writing or #fics to centralize your content) 

2. get your name out there!

write write write! once you have some fics that show your talent, don’t be shy! 

join writing groups: when i first started out, I joined a bunch of groups that would reblog my fics in the midst of the content of much bigger writers; these blogs developed a following, and as a result of my content mixing in with bigger blogs’ content, so did my own tumblr! there’s been a stigma recently with these groups, but im sure you can find one thats supportive and not clique-y! 

send your fics to rec pages: what’s the harm? the only bad thing that can happen is that they ignore you! who cares! get out there! 

if you can do the above, i really encourage you to ask your fave writers for advice/to read your fic: again, the worst that can happen is that they say no or don’t respond or don’t have enough time, but it’ll be a good opportunity to get some feedback! i for one read (or try to read) every single rec that falls into my inbox. if i like it, i’ll #rec it, and if i don’t, unless the writer asks me for feedback, i move on!! 

utilize your tags!!: i’m not entirely sure if this is still the same or not, but from my memory, it’s the first 3-5 tags that matter the most? so utilize them well; push back the tags that aren’t really relevant (ie. #writing, #fics) and push more the main subject line of what you wrote (ie. jungkook fluff, bts smut, namjoon angst). these will populate your fics into the tags better!

headers!: when i’m scrolling through an infinite page of fics, the headers catch my eye the most; try being creative! you can find a lot of info out there on how to make ur headers super aesthetic, but i can share my tips too! --> see section 3

3. your masterlist 

here are some practical tips! 

organize by band, not type of fic/member/centralize your masterlist: i went onto a blog recently and clicked their bio mlist link to find a page full of 20~ish “JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST”/ “JAEHYUN MASTERLIST” and when i clicked on each one, they only had like 2 or 3 fics per member. i think it would’ve been better if she’d centralized all her fics! that keeps whoever is looking interested and more likely to click on another fic while browsing

add info about the fics!: when scrolling through a masterlist, it’s easy to get lost; try to add some snippets of info (ie. a short sentence you liked from the fic, a quick summary, a description of the au/scenario, or even a header!) this all gives some info about the fics you have tagged! 

headers: this isn’t a requirement, but i personally love a good header on fics i read and i love making them myself as i finish up a fic and get ready to upload it; here are free sources: unsplash for HQ stock pics, crop/edit/filter in VSCO, and then add aesthetic script with fontcandy) 

try to fill it up!: after i visit a blog after reading one good fic, i usually browse through their mlist to see if there are any more that i’d be interested in. if there’s a lot to look forward to, i’ll almost always follow; try to write as much as you can in the first few months to try and fill up your mlist and give blog viewers a reason to visit your blog again, follow, or even reblog your content!) 

4. try not to reproduce cliche fics: 

honestly tumblr’s writing community (and armys) has grown insanely these past few years and, unfortunately, even from my perspective, in the past 3-4 years, all the writers have sort of become blended together in my brain. but, i can say that the ones who consistently stand out are the ones who produce consistent content and think outside of the box! 

i tend to gravitate towards fics that have really interesting plotlines (ex. btssavedmylifeblr’s VOID is always a surprise to read because it’s sO unique! i usually don’t read ot7 fics but this one is legit my fave) 

I know it’s tempting to try and just write typical smut fics to try and gain some traction, but tumblr is already too overloaded by that kind of content; try to write something that’s special and unique! this will set u apart from the thousands of other writers here --> see next section

5. create unique fics: 

this is also personal to my writing style, but i get so bored writing just casual fics about the members, and it affects the fics i choose to read too; i prefer unique fics which you can achieve through: 

circumstance/au: create a fun au!; don’t just create an arranged marriage, create an arranged marriage in joseon dynasty, or between a werewolf and a hunter! (shameless self plug); don’t just give me friends to lovers, but give me spiderman!jungkook friends to lovers! (ie. cupofteaguk’s exchanges)

jobs: give them out-of-the-ordinary jobs; don’t just give me enemies to lovers, but give me rival!anchors who end up loving eachother! (ie. jimlingss The Newscasters)

fun dialogue: create good back-and-forth, (something i’m still working on!)! this will help your characters develop personality, and that way, readers will start to develop that themselves as well (ie. dad!yoongi from insemination wars by prolixitae is such a specific character that i love so much!, or obiwrites’ garden characters were so memorable!)

create memorable personalities: don’t give me a flat character, try to develop 4d personalities in all of your characters! (im still working on this too!) this way you can really make an impression on your followers! a great way to practice/recognize this is: “Ask my Character.” Can your followers ask a specific character a specific question, and would you be able to deliver an answer that is very specific to that character’s tone/voice/personality? If yes, then ur doing well! If not, try to think of ways that you can make tht specific character from a specific story, really unique and separate from your other characters.

6. some practical writing tips

be yourself, write for your own pleasure, blah blah blah; yeah you know already haha but here are a few more practical tips! 

grammar check: if you can, try and hone your grammar! makes for an easier read 

write like you: i personally LOVE this by obiwrites, but even the way she writes exudes her personality and is so specific; try not to be caught up in adding hundreds of synonyms and exquisite language; in fact, simpling it down and being more concise and honest with your writing is better than a superfluous sentence; this will also give ur characters so much more dimension and funk

use those commas/sentence variation: try to use more commas; this will feel like you’re the narrator to your own story; it also makes it more fluid to read in my opinion, over those short. clipped. sentences. (ie. “he came over, sitting down on the corner of your bed with an expression you’d never seen before” over “he walked over. he sat down, looking sad.”) 

half-half dialogue/narration: a fic with too much dialogue can get confusing, and a fic with too much narration can get dry; try to balance them out, and weave in and out of each! 

quality over quantity: don’t feel burdened to write a 30k word fic. in fact, i think some of the shorter fics (ie. any of versigny’s stuff) made a bigger impression on me over the longer fics because they were short, left me wanting more, and were just so high-quality in such small quantities. try out your hand at drabbles and one-shots, and don’t feel too burdened to try and develop a series right off the bat! 

abandon pigeon-holes: i’m guilty of this; i start series and then end up with no vision for the stories and they end up giving me writers block. its okay. just stop or discontinue them or leave them on a hiatus; it’s okay. your priority is yourself, and if abandoning certain works are part of that, then go ahead. it’ll help you progress more. 

and finally.......

i’ll add more as they come up! but if you liked this, then pls lmk! i’d love to give more tips and tricks; i think i started this blog 3-4 years ago when there weren’t as many writers here, but im glad you’re thinking of starting out/wanting to grow more! don’t feel intimidated! it’s not all about the notes/followers but creating a blog you’re proud of. 

so write what you’re proud of, or interested in, and keep going. i truly thoroughly had so much fun writing this post. if there are any writers who read through this and have some more advice, pls msg me! 

all the best to you! 

[goatsandgangsters]

do you have any writing tips pls 🥺🥺

Ohhh big question! I’m flattered that you want my writing thoughts, anon!

So. Are we talking about tips on getting through writer’s block/sitting down and actually writing? The mechanics of writing itself, the individual sentences and word choices? Developing a plot? Characters or dialogue? Drafting and revising? If there’s a specific part of the process that’s angsting you, let me know, I’m happy to say more on that. For now I’ll try and touch on as much as broadly as I can.

Writing is a process, a craft, a practice. A joy and a trial. The act of hitting some keys with your fingers but also making something out of nothing. Which is to say—it comes with practice, it can be frustrating, it can be rewarding, and however you’re feeling about writing, you’re not the only one.

Inspiration/actually sitting down to write:

I find that writing is like exercise. Yes, in the sense that it takes practice to build up those muscles, but MORE IMPORTANTLY writing, like exercise, makes me groan and go “but that’s haaaaard I don’t wanna doooooo it, what if I just siiiit here insteaaaad.” And then I grudgingly get started. And I start to get into the rhythm. And then “oh goddammit. This DOES feel good.” I’ve still never experienced a runner’s high, but I have experienced “no I don’t wanna write. well I guess I’ll write. oh hey I’m writing. oH HEY!! I’M WRITING!!!” Sometimes you just need to push yourself through to start.

That said, sometimes you don’t need to push yourself to start. Sometimes it’s better to let something sit. It’s okay to pivot to another project if you’ve stalled out on one. I saw a post once that called this “crop rotation” and I think that’s true. Sometimes the challenge is getting started, but even when you can’t get started, the time away can be valuable, because it allows you to return with fresh ideas and fresh ideas.

I love using Fighter’s Block for when I can’t get started. It curbs my perfectionist tendency to write the same first sentence over and over again by forcing me to write consistently and quickly without refreshing tumblr between every sentence. Once I’ve got a paragraph, I’ve got enough of a rhythm going to keep writing on my own. You can use it for longer stretches of time, but I find a couple rounds of 200 word count goals is enough to get me through the inertia of getting started.

Read a lot:

Reading makes you a better writer. You will absorb aspects of the craft in the process—sentence structure, rhythm, plot beats.

Then think about what you read. Think about what works. Think about what doesn’t. Notice sentences that you love—not by meaning but by sound. Think about how the story is told, how the plot elements come together, how the themes operate, how the narrative is structured. Did the flashbacks works or were they superfluous? Did you love the metaphors and descriptive language, or did it feel vague and unhelpful? What parts grabbed you, what parts didn’t?

Being able to identify what does and doesn’t work in someone else’s writing will help you apply it to your own. It will also help you craft your own voice and style.

Use writing tips as a challenge, not a rule:

We’ve all seen those “writing rules” like don’t use adverbs, don’t say feels or thinks, don’t say said. Never listen to writing “rules”; instead, see them as a writing “challenge.” You don’t need to jettison every single adverb or permanently strike certain words from your writing. Sometimes, an adverb is the best word. And sometimes it isn’t.

These tips are useful, but not as hard-and-fast rules that must be obeyed every time under every circumstance. Instead, use them as tools to challenge you to think about your writing in new ways, to see if there’s a better way to say something (and maybe there is and maybe there isn’t), and to bring a freshness to the process.

I actually do really like to challenge myself to minimize feels and thinks. “He feels sick to his stomach” will pretty much always be less powerful than “His stomach lurches.” But sometimes feels and thinks work better, either because I need quick exposition or because it specifically emphasizes a thought or a feeling as perception. Again, it’s not about rules. It’s about challenging your habits to breathe new life into your writing. 

Revising tools:

if you’re a tactile person and you own a printer (which I am but I don’t), I like to print out a draft and sit on the floor with a pen and a highlighter and highlight anything that sounds clunky or that doesn’t quite fit. Then I massage those specific sentences, looking for other ways to say them, and narrow in on those parts rather than trying to edit everything overall.

The hemingway app method (as long as you know you’re allowed to disagree with it) can be good to catch certain things. Sometimes I use it and think “yeah that sentences IS too long and awkward, I should rephrase it” and sometimes I think “nah, that sentence is long but it’s controlled and it works.” Sometimes it’s useful in pointing out that I used the word just way too many times; sometimes I’ll keep my adverbs thanks.

Retyping the entire thing in another word document is another revising trick. So is reading the entire think out loud to yourself (your actual ear will catch awkward rhythms or typos that your inner voice glossed over).

(Note: I don’t do all of these all the time. I revise with whichever method I happen to be feeling at the moment)

Character interactions:

Overly expository character interactions are probably my #1 writing pet peeve. People don’t say what they mean. They don’t calmly and carefully and eloquently articulate exactly what they feel. If your characters are conversing in well-practiced monologues where they’re able to objectively analyze and express their exact feelings, it’s not believable. It’s also not fun for the reader, because Explanations of Emotions are being used as a stand-in for actual emotions.

Example: You don’t have a breakdown because you’re stressed about losing your job and you had a fight with your sister and you’re also the protagonist who has to save the entire world. You have a breakdown because you can’t find your fucking pen. It was here a moment ago, you know it was, you put it THERE because that’s where you PUT things but now it’s gone and the pen is gone and you can’t even find the fucking pen so how are you going to save the world and everything is going to SHIT because you can’t FIND your goddamn pEN.

Your character is probably not even an expert on their own feelings, let alone able to objectively explain them to someone else. There are things we can’t make ourselves say out loud. We deflect. We put all the big feelings into small things. We squeeze someone’s hand and say come on, let’s make dinner because you can’t say everything is going to be okay I promise you and I love you so much and one day you’ll see that it’ll all work out.

What are your characters saying with their body? What are they saying with what’s left unsaid? And when are they saying something Else that’s really about Them? (“You did what you had to do,” character A assures character B, because character A’s own guilt weighs on them. They’ll never say this out loud. They don’t even need to specifically think “just like my own guilt, which weighs on me.” We know it by what they say, about other people and about other things, because these are the times when you’re really talking about yourself)

Also, the size of the emotion displayed does not translate into the size of the emotional impact on the reader. A big sweeping declaration of I love you shouldn’t be used as a stand-in for real chemistry or a moment of love that is specific to those characters. An absolute sobbing breakdown isn’t inherently more tragic for its size. You don’t need torture porn to evoke angst. Emotions are a lot more subtle than that. Using a caricature of emotion in the extreme often cheapens the emotion for the reader, rather than enhancing it. 

Other assorted tips:

Write notes! Sit up at 3 AM and write down a snippet of dialogue in a note on your phone! Jot down the plot idea for later! Note the phrase you heard someone say that sounds like it would be a good title.

If you can’t figure out how to end your story or your section or your chapter, it might be because it’s already over and the story has finished telling itself. If the beginning doesn’t feel right, if it feels slow and clunky, it might be because your starting place is too early. If the character interaction feels wrong or the scene isn’t going right or you can’t make that line of dialogue work, the problem is probably about 5 or 10 lines up where you took a wrong turn.

An em dash—like the one I used here—separates out a part of the sentence that couldn’t be a sentence on its own. Semicolons join two independent sentences together; this is an example.

The dialogue tag is part of the sentence. Correct: “I love dogs,” he said. or “I love dogs.” Incorrect: “I love dogs.” he said. or “I love dogs,” He said.

That’s everything that comes to mind immediately. If there’s another part of the process that you want me to focus on, let me know! I’m happy to go more in-depth on specifics! 

[feastofcadavers]

The trek through town was surprisingly uneventful. Not many souls walked through the streets, whether it be due to time or some other means wasn't seen nor necessarily mattered to the two of them. The only notable event whilst walking across the cold cement was Aloe's observation of Mint's visible flinching and discomfort when some other person would pass by. Though they'd act upon the noticed response when they were sure no other passerby would come close to hear them, it seems this flinching wasn't reserved just for closeness, but touch as well. "What is it that is causing you to jerk and tense when someone is near? No one here suspects us of being what we are..." The violinist gave a small tremble beneath the other's touch, though quickly composed himself as he tugged himself out of it. "I know, I know we are no more than normal to others, but... What if someone knows without us knowing? And simply never tell us, only to report us to one of those hunters, or-?"

"Your irrationality only causes them to be more suspicious than if there was nothing wrong. Guilty beings make their guilt known through their body language, specifically one's eyes." The researcher made a half-hearted motion towards their own, only caring to ensure they didn't accidentally whack their own face. "I am a special case for the tell of the optics, but you are not. The fear in your eyes will no doubt be prominent if you are moving so much in your nervousness." Being told this so bluntly, or as blunt as Aloe's superfluous vocabulary would allow them, it somewhat felt... Exposing? Is that how it could be described? Mint wasn't sure of such, but tried to muster up some form of confidence within himself to keep his anxieties about public appearance so apparent. "I understand... Though, about your eyes... They are compound, aren't they?"

That was something that wouldn't prompt more than a blink from the taller of the two. It was a surprise, yes, but leave it to Aloe to give as little response as possible to such. "I... Yes, they are. However, one could always claim such as a trick of the light. I have never seen another one with our affliction have this form of alteration without other horrific alterations to the form to cause them to be insectoid... From what I have observed, in the least." There was skepticism from such a quickly made response, but as much as Mint would be worried for them, he could hold just a bit of trust to the statement. Aloe did have a way with words, be it for convincing, altering the mood of a conversation in a near instant, or anything more. "I sure hope you're right about that..." Mint would mumble, letting the air sit in stillness before turning away and continuing his street-side trek. Aloe gave no more than a pause before following close behind.

Raising gaze to the afternoon sky, Mint was almost at ease before the ground beneath him was squishy, but only for one step. "Hmm... Another slice of bread." Aloe surmised without a second thought, squinting at it whilst Mint lifted and shook his leg to get it off of his shoe. The bread fell off with a small plop to the cement, and it was almost comedic with this being the second instance of such an out-of-place food item... Until the gaze was raised to see a sandwich shop before the both of them. Mint chirped up with what he thought to be an explanation; "I mean at least now it makes sense... But it's not even a part of a sandwich. No condiments or anything." The scientist next to him hummed, looking for a sensible retort. "Someone could have asked for only bread and just left it at that."

"So you really expect someone to ask for just bread? What, like some kind of breadwich?"

"Yes."

"...Remind me for you never to take my order if we ever eat out in the future."

There was a silent acknowledgement between the two before Mint took the first steps into the sandwich shop. Whatever the name of the place was, the two didn't quite catch, but at least the inside was quaint and cheery. Plenty of bright colors all around, with laminated checkered flooring and booth seats at the edges of the shop. The lights above shining brightly on all it encapsulated, it was quite a change from the warm, homely nature of Sparkling's residence. There weren't very many customers, but those that were seemed to be having idle chit-chat and enjoying the atmosphere. Some white-haired fellow speaking with who seemed to be a biker caught Mint's eyes, or more particularly, the sandwich... Jam. It was just jam, not blood. Just jam. There was a small tremor from Mint before he wound up shaking his head, trying to get the intrusive thought of such things out of his consciousness.

"Hiya, newbies!" The voice from behind the counter practically made Mint jump, only stabilized by Aloe setting a hand upon his shoulder. "Hello there, worker," Aloe greeted back in a tone that was even more flat than usual, "pardon my acquaintance here, he has been jumpy all day." So much for hiding fears, Mint scolded himself as he huffed and took a deep breath to compose himself. "Y-yes! Pardon, there was shocking news this morning that I am still not quite over." Despite all this, the redhead with the overly joyous voice didn't seem to mind at all. "Oh, no worries! I know the recent news has been shocking to most! Why don't you two take a seat? Spinny and I be right with you two in a jiffy!"

As much as Mint wished to ask about 'Spinny', the person at the counter was gone before he could even get a syllable out. It wasn't long until the two took their seats, sitting on opposite sides of a booth that was furthest from the entrance. Aloe picked it out, so the musician figured there was probably some strategic reasoning as to why they would pick somewhere- "Here is your reminder to, quote, 'never have me take your order if we ever eat out in the future'." Uh... "Thank you...?" Aloe's gaze lowered from the flickering ceiling light above to meet Mint's. "You are welcome." At least they were courteous, even if they brought it about in a bit of a sudden manner.

And, loyal to their word, 'in a jiffy' that redhead showed back up with a small notepad in hand. "Welcome to the sandwich shop, you two! What can I get you both? Drinks for either of you?" Aloe gave a shake of the head, and Mint responded with a small pipe up of 'water'. "Ah, I see, not too keen on the drinks then! That's fine! Now, sandwiches, yea? I'll live up to my namesake as Sandwich to make sure you both get exactly what you need! We have-" And the waitress would go on and on, listing off various sandwiches and condiments for each, some of which didn't even sound pleasant or edible together. Someone with a morbid curiosity might have ordered them, but instead of focusing on that, the both of them were more focused on the little doll that rested upon Sandwich's shoulder. "Ah, pardon me-" The violinist interjected softly, causing the sandwich maker to perk up and hum to show her attention was grabbed. "-what is that upon your shoulder?"

"I think you mean 'who', dear customer of mine!" With the hand that held her pen, Sandwich gently took hold of the item that she seemed to treat with the utmost care. Long green hair that almost looked like it was made of leaves, a carefully sewn dress, button eyes and a stitched smile... It almost looked like a replica of a person with how detailed it was. "This is Spinach! Or as I like to call her, Spinny!" She couldn't help but giggle in happiness as she gently set the doll on the edge of the table- ensuring it wasn't too close to where it could fall if nudged. "She's been with me since I first opened here, and supported me through the toughest of times! She's also- ah- quite the snack!" That phrasing certainly set off alarms in both of the listener's heads. Aloe's expression went to questioning as they looked between the doll and the order taker. "Metaphorically, I assume." They mumbled, gaining a nod that was a bit too eager for their liking. "She also handles the register, but I typically take over for her because she gets shy and tries to hide a lot!" The silence in the air somewhat held a ringing, perhaps from the large amount of energy from this Sandwich character. "Anyways, what kind of sandwich would you two like?"

"Um... The Classic, please."

"Bread. Just bread."

The amount of confusion in the violinist's expression when Aloe decided to order just bread was something that wouldn't be matched for what would probably be ages. "Just bread?" He spoke with wordlessness just barely escaping him. "Just bread." The scientist would retort, crossing their arms as if it was the most casual request in the world. Though this entire exchange seemed to be lost on Sandwich, who simply scooped Spinach back up onto her shoulder and wrote down the requests. "Anything else?" A no from both parties, and Sandwich's beaming was brought even brighter than before. "Understood! You two have fun and chit-chat all you want while I get your sandwiches ready! It'll be the best, Sandwich Scout's honor!" And off she'd dart, taking just a moment to set the doll she carried by the register before heading into the back. Surprisingly, she didn't take the obvious door to the back that had the 'STAFF ONLY' sign on it. It was probably for something else, then...

"She's certainly the eccentric type, huh..." The violinist spoke as quiet of a tone as he could, just to ensure he wouldn't be heard and considered rude. Aloe didn't seem to care for such formalities and spoke normally. "I suppose so. She must either love her job or have some type of high going on within her system. Perhaps too much coffee would be the case..."

"Coffee? I figured she would be a soda type of person..."

And on the chatter would go... It seems speaking of observations was a way to get Aloe to pipe up a bit more. They wouldn't smile, nowhere near it, but... At least the conversation was pleasant. Maybe Mint could get them to open up just a smidge, after some warming up with talk of drinks and caffeine...