#and then we get the manuscript duh

[taylortruther]

all her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes is one of the main themes of ttpd actually. like, all those men with many faces, all those stories, they all return when she emotionally plunges through the ice.

[emiliosandozsequence]

i stole this lol but it seemed fun so <3

What was your first ever story idea? What happened to it? it was a fantasy novel about an elf girl. i've never read a book where the main character is an elf, so i decided to write one myself. i did actually end up writing it; it was the first novel i ever wrote and i was 14 when i did it (still proud of that; it was 230 pgs in a word document btw). anyway, i ended up losing access to the manuscript, so rip, but i'm fully intending to rewrite it someday and make it a lot better than it was when i was writing it at 14.

What’s your writing routine? usually i'll put on music and just start writing whatever comes to mind for whatever scene i'm trying to write at the time. whenever i can't figure out what to do next, i'll go on tumblr and scroll for a bit until it comes to me. it's pretty effective, though my editor literally thinks i'm doing nothing all day bc of this even tho i Promise him i'm Working On It 😭😭😭

Are you a plotter, a pantser, or something in between? in between for sure. i plan things as i go. i start with an overall idea and then just...start writing and plan for the next chapters as they come to me. with the novel i'm currently writing, i've only planned up through chapter 8 and i'm currently writing chapter 4. i used to plan everything, but for some reason that made it so much harder for me to actually write the novels, so i don't do that anymore.

Do you try to tell moral stories throughout your work, or any other life lessons? What are they? there was a time where i did that, but the older i've gotten, the more i've realized a solid plot is a lot more important than telling any moral story. whether you like it or not, people are going to remember your book for the story you tell, not the reason you're telling it, and as a reader, i tend to go for stories with more solid plots than morals anyway.

What do you prefer, character development or worldbuilding? Why? both?? idk they both come very easily to me. to the point that there's been times where i think i haven't done enough of either and people have read my work and told me the opposite. i guess worldbuilding is more fun, but it's harder, which i think is probably why i like it more than character development bc that comes even easier to me than worldbuilding.

Do you have any tips for budding writers? i'll tell you exactly what my editor told me in the first class of his i took when i was 12: write like a shark. whatever you're writing, write it until it's done. go back and edit later. i've learned you can do a little bit of editing as you go once you've finished a few novels because then you know you can do it (speaking from experience; i've finished 7 and self-published 2 and am working on my 8th), but if you're new to writing and you haven't finished a book yet, don't do it. you will get caught up in it otherwise. especially if you have adhd (like i do).

Who inspires you to write the most? at the moment?? probably tamsyn muir. we have a shocking amount in common (our birthday's are literally a single day apart, though she's older than me by several years) and her books are exactly the kind of books i want to write. but also mary doria russell (duh) because we have very similar writing styles; ellen hopkins because she really was who really taught me (through me reading her books) how to write emotional stuff really well; brandon sanderson bc nothing is ever going to beat how i felt at the ending of the mistborn trilogy; and marie lu because her characters from the legend trilogy live in my mind rent free still and i can't help thinking of day every time i create a new boy.

tagging @thinking-in-broken-scenes @naysaltysalmon @the-lisechen and anyone else that wants to!! i just tagged people i know are also writers <3

[jennandblitz]

Five Things

thanks for the tags @freedombooksflowers and @stonecoldhedwig, why was this so difficult??

1. Wolfstar. Duh. Even if they are the background, they are always there. It’s becoming hard to disentangle them from each other nowadays. (Except my original work, though watch me shoehorn something about wizards from the 1970s into my manuscripts.)

2. Long extended metaphors that span whole fics. Yes jenn, we get it, their relationship is like the ocean.

3. If it’s smut, someone is gonna be talking or thinking something filthy. I don’t make the rules.

4. Hand/finger kink. See above, I don’t make the rules. I was writing hand kinks into my fic before I even knew it was a thing. I read a formative novel in my teenage years and rereading now I realise the author included plenty about the MCs hands 🤦🏻

5. Trauma. Everyone has it, bonus points if they’re in therapy and working through it.

I tag @siriusly-sapphic @sliebman10 @spindrifters and anyone else who wants to, at me if you do! 🖤

[inkdrippingscales]

Interview with Pyndrah

"An interview I conducted with myself for personal development. I wanted to cement my own personality in my writing and had fun with writing in second person. It felt right for the content. I hope you enjoyed getting to know be a bit better!"

CONTENT:

No depictions of adult content, sfw, soul binding, octopi, ink, magic, dragons, arrogance, and snark.

You found yourself in an unfamiliar place. Populated, to be sure, but somehow enchanted. At the first door you enter, the smells of parchment and wood assault your nostrils, pairing nicely with the warm, wooden atmosphere.

A green-haired woman with curled black horns was already sitting down in a mostly wooden room. She rested upon a heavily cushioned armchair, and when she noticed you, she looked up from her hands, busy at a small chair-side table, and spoke in a rehearsed, almost bored cadence, “Hello, and welcome. You are to know me as Pyndrah, Scale-Scribe, Writer of Fates and Destinies, and World-Maker. I humbly ask, if you do plan to stay long within my library, that you be gentle with my books. Please do not enter my study unless invited.”

Pyndrah returned to her task, attending to replacing the brassy-yellow nibs of her pens. Yet, that introduction wasn’t quite enough, was it? Or maybe it was just a tad too pompous for your taste. Yeah! A little self-important, Miss Pendragon or whatever called herself! You decide to strike up a conversation with her, “A… Scale … fate…? What’s that?” Oh yeah. Got her good with that one.

The draconic creature turned her emerald eyes back upon you, “Ah. Hmm. You’re new… here? Whatever the case, you are unfamiliar with my work. A Scale-Scribe, A dragon that works with ink, as opposed to what you might expect from dragons and their,”  she paused, thinking for a moment, “‘breathing.’” The emphasis on the word had an edge to it, like it was lesser, in some way.

“Oh, so like, black dragons… breathe ink?” You ask, mayhap a tad too confidently.

“A skull dragon? No, I’m nothing of the sort, surely,” she retorts, “though we do share a similar chromatic origin, they breathe acid. My ‘acid breath’ is far less dangerous… but far more sought after.”

Duh, of course they’re a special black dragon, you should have known that! Right? “What’s so special about ink breath, then?” It does seem a bit messy, and far less effective than fire, or acid. Weren’t there also dragons that could breathe ice and lighting? An amusing idea of Pyndrah battling octopi with ink breath crosses your mind… You should keep these thoughts to yourself.

Ignoring the rude way in which you asked that, Pyndrah politely answers you, “My ink is magical. Much as most dragon breath is. In small doses, I can perfectly catalog your memory of an event, as it happened, and with the emotional impact it had on you. Reading over the manuscripts I create is like reliving the memory transcribed. Smells, imagery, temperature… all of it.” Pyndrah had set her pens down now, focused on answering your questions. You believe she likes to hear herself talk or look smart. She continued, “Some seek that ability to record a history or preserve a precious moment. This is what it means to be a Scale-Scribe.”

Pyndrah continued her explanation, “With a stronger flow, I can spread out your entire history and future, like a beautiful novel, full of choices, paths, and important moments. Once a person is recorded, I can edit their past and future. Change mistakes, plan a future, and explore alternative lives. This is what it means to be a Writer of Fates and Destinies.” Her eyes fell from you again, and she began saving the pens she had repaired, placing them inside a cushioned case.

You realize she forgot one of her auspicious titles, and in the silence, she realizes you are waiting for her to continue. Defeated, she sighs softly, the edge to her voice weakening some, and a flushness pressed against her cheeks—blushing? “I also write stories with my ink… and they become real and true, a new universe to live in, if fostered correctly.” She curtly added, “World maker.” She took another long pause, “World-making requires souls, though, to bind a being to the story, and allows them to inhabit the world we create together." She seemed ready to be done, but you cannot help but smile warmly at the shattering of her little icy show.

[lebakasmadl]

Rupture

By Simon Lelic

a book review

(!Spoilers! duh)

Recently I read “Rupture”. It’s a book that’s quite easy to get through, I finished it in two days. We accompany Inspector Lucia, a murder investigator at the London police force and every second chapter we get to read the manuscripts of the interrogations she conducts. Notably tho we only ever get to see what people respond, never are Lucia’s words part of what’s written nor are the interviewed peoples behaviors ever described.

What case is our Inspector working on?

A school shooting occurred. Three children and a teacher end up dead. The massacre ends due to the shooters suicide on scene. His name was Samuel Szajkowski, he was a teacher at the school.

The big question plaguing everyone now is why?

That is Lucia’s job to find out. She discovers how Mr. Szajkowski was bullied. Bullied by the principal, by other teachers and even his 15 year old students. She discovers how another student at the same school suffers similarly and she herself has to fight against disgusting colleagues, trying to unsettle, scare and hurt her.

It’s clear that the central theme of the book is bullying. It asks questions whether it is okay to feel sympathy for a victim of bullying who himself commits horrible crimes as a result. Is it preventable? Who could prevent it? Is it maybe even justified?

In the end we don’t rly know much more than in the beginning. The bullied child ends up committing suicide after getting out of the hospital (after an attack from his bullies). Lucia leaves the workplace she was (sexually) assaulted at. By the end of the book, we don’t rly get a proper resolution. Lucia does not stand up to her bullies in a satisfying way, she does not file complaints, she never tries to get help, she stays a silent victim. She does try to fight back verbally sometimes, in a pretty ineffective way unfortunately. The dead child’s parents do file a case against the school, however, we barely get to know anything about it. The public view of Mr. Szajkowski (were his actions preventable and/or understandable or was he just a mad man who committed a school shooting bc he was crazy and felt like it?) stays a mystery to the reader.

Another thing that bothered me personally was how there seemed to be a lot of backstory, especially concerning Lucia’s past, but it never getting properly explained. I suspected it might have been due to the book being part of a series but now imagine my surprise when I found out that this was the authors first book.

All in all not a very exciting read. It comes down to people recounting past events of how Mr. Szajkowski was and things done to him and Lucia not doing much except for visiting the school a lot and having trouble at work. Unfortunately.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

It’s getting one weird principal out of three bullying cops.

[casscutting]

2023 Q 1 Goals

2022 is officially over... Well duh, its 13 days into the year so that obvious at this point in time. When my life went belly up in about June of 2022 my goals went with it. The only goal I was able to to keep is to Query my manuscript that I lovingly refer to as Project Rune 1. I queried 38 agents and have received 27 rejections and still have 11 that I am waiting to hear back on. 

But that was 2022 and we’re here in 2023 and somethings have changed though that is for a future post. Lets get into my Quarter 1 goals for this year shall we?

Writing

Project Rune 1

Write 3 new chapters

Finish overhaul edits

Because of the rejections I got I did another round of beta reads and got some amazing feedback from someone I look up to, author Becca C. Smith. So I want to implement those changes in Project Rune 1.

After edits and feedback on the new chapters I will send out my MS to the remainder agents and a select few that I have already received rejections from

Project Rune 2

Finish Outline

Reading

Read at least 3 books

I never set hard in stone reading goals for myself I always shoot to read multiple books a month and some months I read 2-10 and some I don’t read any at all and both are fine.

Blog

Relaunch blog 

I guess this post is the first part of that goal so can I check it off now? Lol Seriously though I’ve missed blogging and I have a lot of post ideas.

Write, Edit, and Post at least 1 Blog post a month, though I am shooting for more.

Shop

Finish setup

Launch Shop

I’ve been slowly building up a backlog of products and product ideas. I look forward to talking more about it closer to when I launch it.

Art

Complete at least 2 new projects

Work on new styles.

I’ve been itching to broadening my artistic ability this year and that's what I am going to do. No matter if I am successful or not in my ability the best this I can do is to try.

Personal

I have 5 personal goals that I won't talk about because they are personal lol

So these are my goals for this quarter and I will count them as a success if I get 3/4 of them.

[komishares]

My ultimate writer's block (the word count doesn't lie).

Time. A terribly obvious answer. Pathetically so. Nothing revelatory, new or clever. A 'goes without saying' kind of answer so why say it and risk the 'duh' response and rolling of eyes?

Painful truths come painfully round and round again, like a broken turn of a Wheel of Fortune, doomed to have you end up on the same wedge. So here it comes around for the umpteenth time for me, again, not in a revelatory capacity but rather as a repetitious reminder as banal as 'remember to put the dishwasher on again.' The reminder made evident in the tracking of one's word count. Now word count in of itself is not the only metric to measure one's writerly success, published or otherwise but it is the key one in actually getting a manuscript completed. You have to put the words in, otherwise no book/story is completed (another pathetically obvious point).

So in a bid to go forward with clarity (rather than the kind of complexity this kind of subject tends to warrant or we indulge in), I am looking at word count and word count alone to measure the success of me being a writer, in getting the job done. Thanks to the handy 'Writing history' function within Scrivener, I can see that recently, my best time was March of this year, where I wrote 25,000 words. Not a humungous amount, granted but in my own personal context, an unmatched output for years. It is only today that I have had any meaningful output at all - eight months down the line. There is no great mystery to puzzle over here. In March and April I was on sabbatical. I had nothing else to do other than write, go for walks in South Gloucestershire or Somerset, generally feed myself, watch some TV and read. I worried for a hot second I would actually twiddle my thumbs and get precious little writing done but no, I did not. The freedom was such that I knew I would be making good progress if I wrote 2-3 hours solidly and then had the rest of the day to myself. I nearly finished another novel.

This kind of output hadn't been seen since 2014 - a good while ago now, much to my shock. In 2014, I wrote a 120,000 word novel in nine months. In 2014, I worked four days a week. By 2017, I was in a situation for the first time in my adult life: in a full time, five day working week. Like some weird ruse, one day extra sucked up all the time I had. It sounds dramatic when I say it like that but time is a weird trickster and can be rather screwy. Talk to anyone who has gone from working two days in the office to three. Why does that one extra day tip the whole balance of your week off? How is that possible?

I'm not sure why I write this other than to say the only way I get any kind of meaningful writing done is when I clear up my schedule of the day job. Again, nothing clever, interesting or newly insightful. I echo a million other voices who dejectedly know this to be their truth too, who constantly struggle with the balance (enter thoughts like: do I get up earlier and sacrifice sleep? Do I go to writing retreats that encourage me to get the manuscript done? Do I ask my friends to set me deadlines? Do I write for 15-minute bursts a day? Do I write at work when there's 'down time'? Do I reject socialising in the short term and just focus?)

After my 2014 monster output, I wondered if I'd ever get that momentum back again. Was it a flash in the pan kind of deal? Only it did happen. In March 2022. And now every time I pull up the 'Writing history' on Scrivener it will be a voice reminder slapping me upside my head to say: yeah you can't do it unless you ain't working (as much). And then a quieter more fed up voice reminder says: so quit already. Clear that schedule.

[literaticat]

Can you share the differences and pros/cons of an illustrator with a few small writing projects joining a literary agency versus an illustration agency? I have started researching agents and I am confused by how they differ. All I have found so far is that illustration agencies usually take a higher commission.

So, obviously, I haven't ever worked for an illustration agency, and I'm sure that different ones specialize in or are more effective in certain areas than others, but VERY BROADLY:

Literary Agencies deal in... books. (Duh, right?) What that means is, literary agencies that rep illustrators or author-illustrators are trying to a) Actively sell the author-illustrator's own books, along with any associated subsidiary rights to do with that book -- and b) Passively, also get illustration-only book jobs for their illustrators. (That means picture books, graphic novels, book jackets, etc. For all of this they charge a 15% commish.)

[Why do I say that b) is "passive"? Because in the case of getting Illus-jobs, we don't have anything specific to sell. We can make your work more visible, we can guide editors and art directors to our website and your socials, we can talk you up -- but we can't MAKE a publisher have an appropriate manuscript and want to hire you.]

Illustration Agencies deal in ALL kinds of illustrations. So that might include editorial illustration, surface design, merch, whatever. And also, passively getting illustration-only book jobs for their clients (that again can include PB, GN, jackets, etc.) For this they take a higher commish. 25%? Maybe? I honestly don't know.

Most illustration agencies probably have a lot more connections with other types of places that hire illustrators vs book publishers.

Most literary agencies have a lot more connections with book publishers vs other kinds of places that hire illustrators.

So I guess which you have depends on what you want to do with your career. If you are looking to be a children's book AUTHOR-ILLUSTRATOR, you should probably get a literary agent. If you are looking to mostly be an illustrator, who sometimes does a book but does a lot of other kinds of things as well, you should probably get an artists rep.

(And it IS possible to have both, as long as both agencies agree that the literary agency will handle all book-related things and the artists rep will handle all non-book things).

[emilyoracle]

How to Make Instantly Likeable Characters: Pt. II

Okay, I can't guarantee instant, but... gotta have those attention-grabbing titles, folks. This guide is actually three guides in one!! Aren't you lucky! We are going to discuss:

How to effectively introduce a character

How to get readers emotionally invested in a character instantly as quickly as possible

How to make a new character likeable (or dislikeable) in a few lines

Getting Readers Emotionally Invested

We've all been there. We're reading a story and realize that we just. Don't. Care. We know the characters, we know what they want, we know the stakes, but we can't seem to give a shit. Truth be told, sometimes you do everything you're "supposed" to and still the audience doesn't care. Audiences want to love your characters; if they don't, they rarely stick around to discover your brilliant plot twist. If you have everything you're "supposed" to and still don't see the engagement you're looking for, it might not have anything to do with character development or plot. It may be because your characters aren't attention-grabbing. This isn't a character creation guide. And while this may be a controversial take, I don't think you need to spend hours developing a character, determining their favorite color and brand of microwave, in order to make them realistic or interesting. You just need to make them likeable. Yeah, no duh, you might think. But I don't mean likeable as a person. I'm talking about likeable as a character. They don't have to be heroic or charming or kind or really have any virtue at all. You could make your protagonist an annoying, shitty person and still make them a likeable character. How?

Agency and Reason.

Agency is one of the most important qualities of a likeable character, and especially important for a protagonist. If the plot happens to a character, if they spend the entire story reacting and not acting, it's hard to root for them. Readers want an active character who is consciously working towards an achievement, whether that's as big as saving the world (or destroying it!), or as small as getting to school on time. A branch off this is obtaining achievement. You don't want to hand everything to your characters just because they put in a little effort, but on the same note, it gets tedious and frustrating for your audience when your character tries and tries and tries but never gets anywhere or achieves anything. You might think that's obvious, but I have beta read plenty of manuscripts where writers just beat their characters into the dirt for chapters on end with no reward. Throw your characters (and readers!) a bone. - Reason is part of the package, too. Your audience needs to understand a character's motives and reasoning, whether or not they agree with them. Think of season-one Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender: he actively works towards catching the avatar (even though we don't want him to achieve this), and his reason is that he believes it will finally earn his father's love and approval. The audience knows that gaining his father's approval means being a terrible person, but they understand it nonetheless. Thus, even as a bratty, self-centered antagonist, Zuko was a likeable character because he acted with agency and the reasoning behind his decisions made sense. If you have no idea what I'm talking about because you've never watched Avatar the Last Airbender please go do that right now. Drop everything. I'm just kidding. Kind of. But do watch it. Now, you don't need to spill a character's tragic backstory right away or immediately explain their motive with stiff exposition. In fact, there are plenty of instances where withholding a character's "reason" might be beneficial to the story, plot, and reader intrigue. But if you want your character to be a likeable one, at least hinting towards their reason is necessary. When there is no clear "why" behind an action, you aren't giving readers any motivation, and therefore nothing to be emotionally invested in in the first place. If a character is digging into a mountain, that's boring and tedious. If a character is digging into a mountain because their lover was cursed to be stuck inside it for all eternity, that's tragic and attention-grabbing. - Okay, this is all fine and dandy, Em, but how do we get readers emotionally invested quickly? That's what you promised.

Ah, that's right. I did. In general, authors get one (1) chapter to draw a reader in, so I'd say emotional investment would preferably take less than that. You want readers ending the first chapter eager to spend more time with the characters. Here's a neat psychological trick: reward them for it. Reward readers for investing in your character. Remember what I said above about obtaining achievement? It's actually a good idea to do that almost immediately. It's not just your characters that want to win! It's your readers, too. So show them right away why they should invest in this character and then reward them for doing so. Give your character(s) a smaller goal to work towards, that they can actually achieve, within your first chapter. If you throw them into the thick of the main plot that still has three-quarters of the book to reach a climax, you're setting your audience up for a lot of strife and struggle with no reward. I'm going to use my own story as an example (this isn't a plug, it's not published and likely never will be). The pitch is: The empress, reincarnated as a slave, must cross the continent with the enemy prince in order to free her people and reclaim her empire. The main goal, the plot, is for the empress to get across the continent and reclaim her empire. But before that, in the very first chapter, she has to free herself from slavery. She has a goal, she has a (pretty obvious, but still justifiably demonstrated) reason for why she wants it, she overcomes obstacles to actively work towards it, and she achieves it: all within the first chapter. A word of caution: Don't let the small achievement be a complete "arc." In the above example, the MC escapes slavery, but it's not the end of an arc, it's the beginning. There are still unanswered questions, such as: Where will she go? Can she survive on her own? Can she evade being captured again? Remember, more than rewarding your readers, you want to leave them hungry for more. This isn't the be-all-end-all method for getting emotional investment in one chapter, but it's the easiest to incorporate regardless of your experience, style, or genre. (Other methods? Tease your audience with a titillating question and don't answer it, captivate them with a dynamic between characters that they'll want to see more of, entertain them with humorous prose and style, entice them with hints of what's to come, or simply compel them to the next chapter with a good cliff hanger. If you're really ambitious, try all six at once.) - To sum up: If you want readers to be emotionally invested in your story from the start, give your characters agency, make sure their motives are clear and understandable (even if they're not agreeable), and give them a small goal to actively work towards and achieve within the first chapter. Check out Part I: Effectively Introducing Characters, and stay tuned for Part III, being posted tomorrow: Making a Character Likeable (or Dislikeable). - Remember to write a sentence of your story today~ Thanks for reading!

[nanowrimo]

3 Most Common Worldbuilding Mistakes for Writers and How to Fix Them

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. World Anvil, a 2021 NaNoWriMo sponsor, helps you develop and organize your characters, plot, and world setting. Today, World Anvil founder Janet Forbes is here to share some pro tips for worldbuilding. Don’t forget to check out the offer to NaNoWriMo writers for 30% off a World Anvil membership!

I talk to hundreds of writers every week, in our World Anvil Q&A live streams, our World Anvil writing challenges, and meetings with our professional authors. And mostly, they’re encountering the same few worldbuilding problems! Here are the 3 most common worldbuilding mistakes, and how you can fix them:

1. Mary-Sue Worldbuilding

You’re probably familiar with the Mary-Sue—a flawless, artificial-feeling main character. Mary Sue Worldbuilding follows in the same vein. If everything in your setting is directly related to your main character, it feels like the world revolves around them. It’s too convenient and artificial. That’s Mary-Sue worldbuilding.

Mary-Sue worldbuilding is usually caused by worldbuilding exclusively around your plot. Introducing larger-scale conflict in the backdrop of your setting, current affairs like civil or religious movements, war, disasters, or technological breakthroughs, can help expand the world beyond just your main character. 

Your main character might interact with these elements, or more usually, with problems caused by them. For example, they might help some refugees from “that war over there”. But your character should not be at the core of everything—they’re not the cause of the war. Other things are happening outside of your story, in the background. (Pro-tip: this is a great way to reinforce your genre and themes, and make your world feel alive and expansive, too!). 

Fixing Mary-Sue Worldbuilding Of course you’ll need a series bible like World Anvil to help you keep these current affairs organized, connect them together, and make sure you don’t lose your notes! Use World Anvil’s worldbuilding templates to get inspired for your big conflicts, and remember - you only need to write a few bullet points to start with! You can always expand more later (we’ll talk more about that in a moment).

World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Templates are custom-made by experts to help inspire and guide your creativity—and you can customize your own templates too!

2. Mosaic Worldbuilding

You know those computer game worlds where each area feels like a self-contained zone? Where the “desert” region and the “forest” region have no trade, communication, or overlap between them? That, in a nutshell, is Mosaic worldbuilding. It ruins suspension of disbelief, makes your novel setting feel false, and can pull your readers out of your story! 

Fixing Mosaic Worldbuilding

The best way to avoid Mosaic Worldbuilding is to make sure that you have a clear overview of your world early on, with each major region and concept penned out in just a sentence or two. That way, each region will feel like a connected aspect of your seamless setting, not a tile shoved on the side. 

On World Anvil, each world setting has a “Worldbuilding Meta” section to help you detail the 10,000 foot overview—the big stuff. And not just your physical world and its people, but your genre, your motivations, and your themes. This invaluable reference tool helps you expand your setting and add more detail, and will also help you sense-check what you’re adding!

Once you have a clear picture of your meta, and know the overview of your world, it’ll be easy to make use of cultural aspects like imports and travellers, cultural diasporas and geographical transition zones to make your world seem more connected and less artificially divided! And you’ll be able to do it without spending too much extra time worldbuilding. Which brings me to my final common worldbuilding mistake…

World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Meta tool helps you focus, streamline and sense-check your world setting! It’s full of guides to create an excellent overview for your worldbuilding project. This is the view mode of Manifold Sky by B.C.G. Wurth.

3. Worldbuilder’s Disease

Sounds nasty, right? Well, Worldbuilder’s Disease is a very common problem—a compulsion to continue worldbuilding things which aren’t actually useful. Here’s my favorite example—the “elven shoes”:

In your world you have elves. They wear shoes. So far, so good. Maybe there’s a plot-point where an imposter’s revealed because they’re wearing the wrong shoes. So you fill in a few details on your series bible. But if you find yourself writing a 5,000 word treatise on elven shoes through the ages… honey, you have worldbuilder’s disease.

I use shoes as an example, but it could be anything. It might be detailing three centuries of monarchy, or expanding unvisited areas in excruciating detail. Sure, it can be fun, but all that time spent on unnecessary parts of your setting isn’t helping you polish the core parts—or get your novel written! It’s distracting you from your primary goal. 

Curing Worldbuilder’s Disease

There are three major causes of worldbuilders disease: 

Lack of perspective

Lovers of prose

Fear of losing your ideas

1. Lack of perspective

Lack of perspective can often lead down a worldbuilding rabbit hole. Keep clarity on what’s important in your setting with tools like World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Meta. This helps you define your active worldbuilding area - not just geographical but thematic areas—which helps  streamline your world and your project, so you can be sure you’re spending your time where it counts!

Also, be clear with yourself WHY you’re worldbuilding the element you’re working on. Keep clear notes in your series bible about how this new element fits into your novel. If it’s little more than set dressing, you only need a few words. For a core concept, you might need more.

2. Lovers of Prose

As writers, we love to write (duh)! But for most of us, writing in prose in our series bible can cause serious problems. Not only does it mean that you write MORE than we should (your get in flow, words happen!), it’s also harder to reference your ideas quickly later on. Stick to short, organized articles in note form. Make sure the salient information is there, and link in anything relevant. You can always expand to prose later if you need to.

Keep your series bible in brief notes with clear headers! This character article took 5 minutes using World Anvil’s character template which automatically adds the headers. The linked articles help me easily reference related people and places as I’m writing.

3. Fear of losing our ideas

Fear of losing our ideas is actually one of the most common reasons for worldbuilder’s disease—that we’ll forget or lose our notes if we don’t write them out in vast detail. To combat this, make sure you have somewhere to keep your world details safe, organized, tagged and searchable. Then you can reassure yourself that you can go back and develop more later if you need it. 

Obviously, World Anvil is custom made for this, backing up everything in one place and linking everything together, so you can easily search, reference and update your series bible whilst writing your manuscript and not have to worry about losing things!

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Janet Forbes is a published fantasy author and RPG writer, whose recent credits include the Dark Crystal RPG with the Henson Company (coming 2021). In 2017, she and her husband created World Anvil, the ultimate worldbuilding and novel writing platform. World Anvil helps you organize, store and develop your worldbuilding and series bible privately, and market your books to the world too! The inbuilt novel writing software, accessible from anywhere, integrates seamlessly with your worldbuilding. And when it’s time to publish, you can export, or publish directly on the World Anvil platform and monetize YOUR way! Check it out at World Anvil.

[yourmidnightlover]

i totally lost the ask bc i forgot to put it in my drafts, BUT i remembered which prompts were requested.

this one was kind of a challenge, so i LOVED it.

MINORS DNI

kiss list #5: kissing as an interruption

smut #8: mirror sex

fluff #5: “you smell really nice”

CW: fucking in front of a mirror (duh.), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, hate sex?, it’s kinda enemies to lovers. *let me know if i missed anything*

it had been yet another new years celebration at rossi’s mansion. another new years where spencer’s pining over what seems to be so untouchable, unattainable. you.

for what spencer would recall as ages, but was actually 3 years, he has been in love with you. he’s in love with the occasional nose scrunches. he’s in love with the way you gently bite your lip when you’re in concentration. he’s in love with your voice, the gentle, soft sounds it produces. he’s so in love with you he can’t say a thing.

in fact, he’s never said a thing to you.

ever.

over time, you had developed a theory that spencer reid simply didn’t like you. at all. he would stare at you until you would look at him, making him break his eye contact. he would never even say a word to you unless it was a random statistic or for a case.

but that was just because spencer was nervous. how was he supposed to approach a girl like you? just walk up to you and say hi? no.

while he’s dressed in a suit and mask, thanks to rossi’s masquerade themed party, he notices a woman waltz in with a beautiful gown, her eyes and the top of her face covered my a matching mask. spencer knew all eyes were on this mysterious person, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to them.

still, he couldn’t approach her.

or could he?

he was wearing a mask. why wouldn’t he be able to?

she wouldn’t be able to recognize him.

and maybe he needed this girl to help him get over you - that train has clearly left long ago.

using all the courage he could muster up, he approached this woman with a feigned confidence.

once he had gotten closer to her, he had realized she must’ve been there for a while, the faint smell of alcohol wafting from her breath when she greets him.

“hi!” she says with a smile wider than he’d seen in a long time.

“he-hello,” he stutters already, suddenly wondering how he’d manage to maintain confidence long enough to even talk to you.

“my name is - shit,” she stumbled over her dress, effectively falling forward and latching onto spencer’s arms to secure herself.

“what a lovely name,” he chuckled as a blush grew on his cheeks.

“no! shit isn’t my name,” she giggled as she let her head rest on his chest. “wow, you smell really nice,” she says as she let herself be overwhelmed by his scent.

“oh… thank you,” he whispered. “you smell nice, too,” vanilla, he thought.

“you’re cute,” she pulled back enough to poke his cheekbone with a smile. “like a model.”

“you-i’m not very cute when standing next to you,” he tried to be smooth. “that wasn’t very good,” he laughed at himself. “i-what i meant was that you look… you’re very beautiful.”

“you can’t even see my face!” she argued, the smile remaining on her lips. “but thank you.”

“it’s no problem, truly,” he whispered softly.

“wait,” she suddenly seemed all-so-sober as the next couple of words left her mouth. “are you spencer?”

“wha-yes?” he nodded his head slowly.

“what the hell?!” she whisper-yelled before pulling him into the nearest room, which happened to be a bathroom. “what the fuck, reid?!”

“what? what did i do?!” he argued, not sure where anything went wrong as he took off his own mask.

until she took off her mask.

shit.

“y/n?” he mumbled, already knowing the answer.

“yes, y/n! fuck, reid!” she sighed exasperated.

“what’s the problem here?” he stepped back while she tried to compose herself.

“what’s the problem? what’s the problem?!” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “the problem is that you fucking hate me and decide to flirt with me at a party! what? you have to wait until i look presentable to want to even talk to me? i actually respected-no, i looked up to you before i came into the bau. i had read your manuscripts and theories and your inserts in newspapers. i was wanting to meet you once i finally realized my hard work had paid off, and i had made it into the bau. but no! the first day i met you, you wouldn’t even say fucking hello! it’s such an easy word! hel-lo! there! i just did it!” you chuckled once more, about to explode again. “god, i didn’t think adults could be as petty as you’ve been. you refuse to even talk to me unless it’s absolutely necessary. you only fucking stare at me until i look your way. why don’t y-“

and his lips were on yours.

in a moment of weakness, or maybe strength, spencer was able to face his fears of actually kissing the girl of his dreams.

and you let him.

at first, you were surprised. the shock was evident in the way she tensed up. spencer was about to pull away, accepting his defeat, before you finally kissed him back. your hands cupped his wrists that were firmly planted on your face as you inches your body closer to his own.

“i don’t hate you,” he breathed into your mouth as you both heaved for air that had been lost amongst the heat. “in fact,” he placed his leg between yours, noticing how a whine had left your lips, “it’s quite the opposite.”

“reid, please,” you tried to grind yourself down on his leg.

“ah-ah,” he chuckled. “if we’re doing this, you’re calling me by my first name.”

“spencer, come on,” you argued with the man, he finally obliged and rose his knee to meet your center. “fuck.”

“you like that? i can make you feel much more than just this,” he growled in your ear.

“please, anything,” you sighed, placing a kiss below his ear.

“come here,” he removed his leg, and in an instant it was replaced my his hand trailing up your leg, underneath your dress. “someone’s excited,” he announced once he felt how wet you were.

“shut up,” you sighed, gently biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.

“what was that, princess? did you tell me to shut up?” he teased, feeling you nod against his shoulder.

“‘m sorry,” you cried as his fingers entered your heat, quickly thrusting in and out. “oh my god, yes.”

“yea? maybe this’ll teach you to not tell me to shut up, huh, princess?” he chuckled against your ear as your body began relying on spencer to keep you upright.

“wha- oh my god, i’m so close,” your nails began digging into his clothes back as he drew you closer to your finish.

and right before you were over the precipice, he took his fingers out of your heat. a whine left your lips as your body chased his touch, bucking towards him for some type of relief.

“don’t tell me to shut up,” he warned once more.

“please. please,” you whined. “i’ll do anything, please, just…” you began kissing on his neck, gently sucking marks where your lips had been.

“what do you want, princess?” he asked, his hands trailing over your waist.

“you. please, i want you so bad,” you huffed. “please, inside me.”

“you want me inside you?” you nodded eagerly, pulling at his shirt before he pressed his lips back to yours.

he twisted the two of you so you were pressed against the counter, his front to your back.

“so, so bad,” you wiggled your ass so you could feel the bulge that had been forming in his pants.

“lucky for you,” he began unbuckling his belt, “i want this just as bad,” he let his hard cock rub along your folds before entering you.

“oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath, holding onto the counter for stability.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned in your ear before pulling almost all the way out, his tip only inside before slamming back into you.

“spen-spencer,” you gasped out as he set a ruthless pace of slamming into you.

“what is it, sweet girl? you need more?” he saw the pathetic excuse of a nod from your head and reached his hand forward to grasp your hair rather than rub your clit. “too fucking bad. if you’re cumming on my dick, you’re coming from that alone.”

when he yanked your hair back, a pornographic moan was ripped from your throat. you were able to look yourself in the eyes as the man who you thought hated you was fucking you into oblivion. you were more than grateful that the alcohol had worn off so you could remember this moment forever, although not as good as his own eidetic memory.

“you like watching me fuck you, princess?” he lent down in your ear to whisper. “you look so fucking good like this, don’t you think?”

“ye-yes,” you sighed before he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, allowing his hips to plow into you at a relentless pace as his other hand snakes between your legs to pull them further apart.

“there we go,” he chuckled at the deeper angle he was able to reach, places that were untouched inside of you. “you gonna come?”

“please, oh my god, please!” you broke eye contact with him in the mirror to take a breath before he yanked your hair back.

“then fucking do it,” he growled in your ear. “come all over my dick, baby.”

“oh my-fuck!!” he felt your pussy fluttering around his member as he fucked you through your orgasm, helping him near his own.

“shit, so fucking good,” he moaned in your ear. “where do you want it?”

“inside. inside, please inside of me,” you begged him once more.

“want me to fill you up?” he looked up to see you looking at him with pure lust… and maybe something more before he came inside of you.

as he fucked his cum back into you, the both of you could hear fireworks going off in the background.

“happy new year, spencer,” you chuckled before he pulled out and fixed your underwear.

“happy new year, y/n,” he smiled before gently grasping your face and pulling you in for yet another kiss.

here’s to a happy new year and many more with what you’ve come to find is the love of your life.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime — Ten // Wanda Maximoff

chapter nine | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eleven

author’s note: okay so this was supposed to be published yesterday but (if anyone cares lol), basically, i finished my last year of uni two days ago and so yesterday was the first official day i had that i didn’t have to do work, so i spent the whole day playing video games 😂 but it’s here now, so i hope you liked it!

Approaching Y/B/N's study, my annoyance returned when I remembered how he acted only an hour before. I didn't bother knocking as I let myself in, seeing him loosening his bow tie and looking out the window.

"What the hell was that?" I snapped instantly.

He sighed, yanking his bow tie off and throwing it to his desk. "What was what?"

I crossed my arms to contain my frustration. "You know what, Y/B/N." He continued to play dumb, so I watched him with a frown. "Why are you so against me getting published? I thought– I thought you'd be proud of me. It's all I've ever wanted."

With a scowl, he looked the other way. "I'm the writer, Y/N, not you."

His words created an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy was a disgusting look on him, one I never wanted to see.

"No," I said, uncrossing my arms and staring daggers at him. "You're not the writer. I am. You only got noticed because of me!"

"Shut up!" he shouted, finally meeting my eyes. "You don't get to do this! It's not about you!"

"Yes, it is!" I shouted right back. "For once, it is about me, Y/B/N! Because this is my chance to do something I love."

He rolled his eyes, getting riled up all over again. "And that's another thing. Why the hell are you putting silly ideas into my fiancé's head about making money? Are you trying to make me a fool in front of my in-laws?"

I squeezed my fists together, narrowing my eyes. "They aren't your in-laws."

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

He didn't deserve Wanda. He couldn't. She was too good for him.

"Sorry that your masculinity is so fragile that you can't let your fiancé do something she's passionate about," I said through gritted teeth.

He glowered down at me. "You need to butt out."

I smiled bitterly. "Maybe if you didn't start on Pietro for no reason, I would."

He scoffed. "Please. That man is only trying to get into your pants."

I don't think I'd ever wanted to strangle my brother as much as I did right now. Did he really not believe in me? He couldn't accept that maybe I'd earned this on my own accord? Thankfully, unlike him, I could contain my emotions and managed to swallow down my anger.

"You know that's not the case," I said with a dangerously calm voice. "You should talk about your soon-to-be brother-in-law with some respect."

Y/B/N sighed, moving to sit at his desk. I followed him with my eyes, unable to recognise who he was. I hadn't dubbed him for the insecure type, but I was being proven wrong many times tonight.

"I don't want to do this right now," he said quietly, sinking his head into his hands.

I uncurled my fists, fed up. "It's already been done."

He looked up, but I didn't wait to see his face. Maybe he wasn't the brother I thought he was.

—

"Honest opinion," Wanda said, before revealing herself from behind the curtain. "Nice or ugly?"

"Nice."

She smiled brightly, twirling around in the dress she was trying on, before going back behind the curtain to change into another one. She'd invited me over to hers to hang out, which meant watching her try on a bunch of new dresses and getting excited over each one. I wasn't complaining.

"So, that first book," she picked up from our previous conversation as she changed. She was referring to Y/B/N's first published book. "That was really you?"

"Yep." I pulled my legs up onto the lounge sofa and leaned on my hand, elbow propped on the back of the seat. "I mean, it got edited of course, but the initial manuscript was mine."

"Wow," she commented. "That must have really sucked to hear everybody praise it when it was actually yours."

"It did indeed."

She came out from the curtain wearing a dress that wasn't particularly nice looking. It had a baggy torso and slim legs, making Wanda look very unflattering. And that was saying something – she could pull off anything.

"Nice or ugly?" she asked, hands on her hips.

I squinted, tilting my head and trying to think if I should lie or not. Her blue eyes peered down at me intimidatingly and I knew I couldn't find it in myself to lie to her.

After a moment, I released a breath. "I'm sorry, love, but it's kind of ugly."

She chuckled, giving me a knowing smile. "Good. This was a test. Means you're paying attention."

"Wow. You think I'm just sat here for fun?"

She didn't respond, but an amused smile was on her lips as she headed behind the curtain to change yet again. It was quiet as she was changing, before she spoke up again.

"You know when we first met? And you showed me around your room?"

"How can I forget? You thought I was jealous of my brother," I quipped with a smile.

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me. "That was before I knew you wrote half his stuff."

Stifling a laugh, I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "Okay, go on."

She sighed. "I told you how I fell in love with that first book. How I fell in love with the words. And the person who wrote those words.”

"I remember."

She reappeared from behind the curtain, this time wearing a stunning floral blue sundress. It fell off her shoulders, revealing cream-coloured skin and a well-defined collarbone. I smiled softly, overwhelmed with admiration for the beautiful woman before me.

"I'm glad it was you," she said, and I suddenly remembered we were in the middle of a conversation.

Her eyes sparkled brightly as she smiled my way, and then her words sank in and my heart fluttered with adoration.

"Me, too," I breathed out.

She held my gaze for a second longer before looking down at her dress, pressing her hands over it. "So. What do you think? Nice or ugly?"

I raised my eyebrows with astonishment. "Wanda, you look absolutely beautiful."

Her shoulders relaxed as her eyes flickered to mine. "So, I should keep it?"

I spluttered, "Duh!"

She laughed, before approaching me and sitting beside me. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she pulled her legs onto the sofa and sighed contently. I wrapped an arm around her, resting my cheek on her head.

"I'm glad you'll finally get the recognition you deserve, milaya (darling)," she said, lifting her hand to intertwine it with mine over her shoulder.

With an entertained smile, I held her hand firmly. "Maybe, love. I haven't said yes."

"Oh, you'll say yes."

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, revelling in the warmth her body created as it pressed to mine. We had no concerns that somebody would catch us since nobody was home and the servants knew not to bother us.

"So, what was the book actually about?" she asked, playing with my fingers.

"Huh?"

"The book," she repeated. "I've heard Y/B/N's take on it, but what about yours?"

At the mention of my brother, I rolled my eyes. We still hadn't spoken since our argument and I wasn't exactly in the best place with him right now.

"It doesn't matter," I mumbled into her hair.

She used her elbow to nudge me gently in the stomach before grabbing my other hand and wrapping it around her waist.

"I like hearing you speak," she said softly. "And I love the way your mind works."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, but I appreciated her words. She always had such an effect on me and I'd come to only care about one opinion nowadays – hers.

"Okay, I guess..." I sighed, subconsciously pressing my fingertips to hers. "The book is about a man who loses his wife to his own ignorance, right?" She hummed in agreement, so I continued. "Y/B/N always talks about how it's about a man failing to appreciate his wife, but that's not how I intended for it to be perceived."

Interest piqued, she sat up straight and turned around to face me, leaning her head on my chest and looking up with curious eyes. I smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up adorably.

"It's supposed to be about the wife discovering that she's her own woman and that she doesn't need her husband to be okay," I continued, holding her gaze. "It was her own self-discovery that pushed them apart, as well her husband's stupidity."

Wanda's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I like that interpretation a lot better than his."

Licking my lips, I breathed out through a smile. "You're biased, dear."

Her eyes flickered to my lips. "Maybe."

I chuckled before closing the gap between us, connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss. She relaxed against me before smiling as we pulled away.

"Ya lyublyu vas (I love you)," she whispered.

I always loved when she spoke in her native tongue. She sounded so at peace when she did and it warmed my insides.

"I love you, too," I whispered right back.

She grinned, carefree, before turning to lean on my shoulder again. I held her, enjoying the silence that formed between us. Her presence was always enough and I never wanted anything more. But I knew Wanda and I knew that she couldn't stay quiet for too long, so something was definitely up.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly, not wanting to startle her in case she was too deep into her thoughts.

She sighed. "It's stupid."

I smiled. "I doubt that."

It went quiet and I assumed she didn't want to share, but then she played with my fingers again as she spoke.

"I was wondering what it would be like if we were able to get married," she murmured. "With the dresses and walking down the aisle and the rings."

I laced my fingers through hers, the thoughts having crossed my mind at times, too. It was nice to think 'what if', but it was also a dangerous game.

"The wedding cake would have to be chocolate," I played along, not wanting her to think she couldn't talk about it.

She snickered, loosening up in my arms. "Of course. And the colour scheme would have to be red."

"Definitely," I agreed, knowing she wouldn't have it any other way, "...it could be somewhere small but comfortable. Surrounded by nature, maybe."

"Yes. With flowers all around us and the sound of birds tweeting in the trees."

A comforting smile crept on my lips as I closed my eyes, imagining it in my mind. What a beautiful day it would be.

"I'd force Pietro to be the ring bearer," she added as an afterthought, and I laughed, chest moving up and down with her on it.

"He'd hate that," I pointed out.

"Exactly," she said with a mischievous hum.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "What about afterwards? Where would you want to live?"

She scrunched her face up before settling with, "Somewhere remote. Away from people. Maybe a nice cottage somewhere."

Nodding in agreement, I said, "We could have a beautiful garden in the back. I'd do my very best to make it perfect for you. And you could paint whatever you wanted there."

A considerate smile tugged at her lips at the thought. "Yes! And we could get a pet. I've always wanted a pet."

"I guess we could... what pet do you want?"

With no hesitation, she said, "Chickens."

I looked down at her, quirking a brow. "Chickens?"

Looking up at me, she stared like it was self-explanatory. "They're cute and they lay eggs. Think about it. Fresh eggs for breakfast every morning."

God, she was so cute. I smiled, squeezing her hand. "Chickens it is, love."

She got excited as she tugged on my hand. "You can finally get a study of your own!"

"And you can get your own studio," I added, making her grin.

"And I'd keep it sparkling clean."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Don't lie, Wanda."

She rolled her eyes, though wore a humoured expression. "Okay, maybe not..."

"You can keep it as messy as you want," I promised her, as if it was actually going to happen and we'd get what we wanted.

The dream was so vivid in my mind that it could have been a memory. Wanda and I living together, peacefully and without hiding... if only we weren't in the wrong lifetime.

"I like to pretend that you gave this to me," she said after an unsettling silence fell upon us, raising her left hand for me to see. She wiggled her ring finger, the silver band and emerald gem glinting in the light. "It makes me feel better."

I swallowed hard and forced a smile, intertwining my fingers in hers and bringing them to my lips to kiss gently.

"Technically I picked it," I reminded her to lighten the mood, but it didn't work.

A sad smile appeared on her face. "Maybe in another lifetime, we could have met in a world that allowed this."

My smile faded into a frown at her words. Like I said, considering the 'what if's' was a dangerous game, and we'd already played too much of it.

"You're going to marry my brother soon," I said quietly, the realisation hitting me. "This– us, will have to stop."

She sat up and turned to face me, eyes looking between mine as she shook her head. "It doesn't have to."

I rested a hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, kissing my palm. I savoured the feeling of her lips against my skin.

"What we're doing isn't fair on either of us," I said reluctantly, afraid to say what we'd avoided for as long as our relationship lasted.

She frowned. "I'd rather have you like this than not at all."

My heart ached because I knew she was being genuine, and the truth is, I felt the same. But that brought me to our next dilemma.

"It's not fair on Y/B/N either."

She tensed her jaw. "The world doesn't want us together, Y/N. They're the ones who forced us to be like this."

"Like what?" I asked with knowing eyes. "Cheaters?"

Her eyes glossed over and it broke me to see her so hurt.

"Is it really cheating if I never wanted to be with him?" she asked with a shaky voice. "If I'm only acting out of duty? If I never loved him?"

Realising I'd saddened her, I moved forward and pulled her in for a hug, running my hand down her hair and to her back. "Sorry... I didn't mean to make you upset."

She sniffled and I felt her tears soaking my shirt. "Don't talk like that... I don't want to lose you."

I swallowed hard, nodding into her shoulder. "I don't want to lose you either, Wanda."

But I knew that deep down, we couldn't hold onto everything we wanted to in life. Deep down, she must have known that, too.

—

"...and this is where we write up the contracts. It's where we'd write up yours if you say yes."

Pietro grinned cheekily as I gave him a knowing look. He was showing me around the publishing house – a proper tour, not just me lurking around on the few visits I'd been here for Y/B/N – with hopes of convincing me to sign a contract with him.

"Pietro, you said you wouldn't be biased," Wanda warned, and I gave her a grateful smile as Pietro chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," he apologised, though he definitely didn't mean it. "I just really think you'd be a great fit here, Y/N. I already have editors willing to work with you based on the few pages they've seen of your work."

I raised my eyebrows, startled. "Wow, seriously?"

He nodded. "Most definitely. As I told you the other night, you're talented. And with my help, you can be successful, too."

A smile fell on my lips uncontrollably. A real editor wanted to work with me. Woah.

"I'm gonna get some coffee," Wanda said, squeezing my shoulder. "I'll get you both some, too." She wagged a finger towards her brother. "Don't pressure her whilst I'm gone."

He raised his hands in defence. "Okay, calm down, sestra (sister). I'll be fair."

She lowered her finger, shot him a final look, then smiled at me before leaving for the café next door. I chuckled at how cute she was and how much she cared before returning my attention to Pietro.

"I won't pressure you," he said to me, perching on the edge of an empty desk. "I just want you to know that you'd be well looked after here. I wouldn't let anyone talk down to you, nor treat you with disrespect because you're a woman. I don't condone that here."

I relaxed at his words, offering him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Pietro. That really means a lot."

He returned the smile before his gaze moved over my shoulder. Smile fading, he cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away. I turned around, curious to what had caught his attention, and then I saw Y/B/N standing in the doorway, looking around for something. His eyes eventually fell on me and he perked up before heading our way.

I hadn't spoken to him since two nights ago after dinner. He'd actively avoided me, too and I wasn't complaining, having still harboured an unexplainable anger for him. What was he doing here?

"Y/N, hey," he said awkwardly, stopping before Pietro and I. His eyes flickered to Pietro before he asked me, "Can I speak with you?"

Instinctively, my jaw clenched and he seemed to notice as he shook his head quickly.

"Not to argue," he clarified. "Just to talk."

His eyes were pleading and I couldn't find it in myself to deny him. He was my brother after all, we couldn't argue forever. Nodding wordlessly, I smiled apologetically to Pietro before following Y/B/N to a quiet side of the room. My eyes ran along the many employees working away at their desks before falling to my brother before me.

"What is it?" I asked, maybe a little too harshly, but there was no going back now.

He frowned, eyes flittering around nervously. "I want to apologise for my behaviour the other night. I shouldn't have acted how I did."

I hugged myself as I shifted my weight between my feet. "Okay."

"You were right," he continued, finally meeting my eyes. "You deserve this. You've always been there for me, helping me with my writing when I needed it. I should have reacted better, but I let my jealousy get the better of me."

My mouth opened, surprised at his apology.

He offered me a sad smile. "The truth is, Y/N, we both know you'll be the more successful of us both. And you'll be so preoccupied with your own writing that you won't be able to help me anymore. And it was selfish of me to think that first, but I did. And I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I'm your big brother and I should've been better."

Chewing on my lip, I let go of waist and straightened up, nodding slightly. "I– thanks. Thank you. For telling me that."

His shoulders relaxed as he nodded. "Also, you were right about what you said about Wanda. And I'm going to apologise to her first thing."

My expression softened at the mention of the girl who'd only ever been good to us. "She's seriously talented, Y/B/N."

"I know."

I nodded, stepping forward and resting a hand on his shoulder. Looking between his eyes, I only saw regret and I knew he was being genuine with his apology.

"You're forgiven," I told him with a small smile, before pulling him in for a quick hug.

He returned it and I felt relieved to know he was supportive. I didn't see a reason to not accept Pietro's deal now... everybody I cared about was okay with it.

"Wanda is here by the way," I told Y/B/N when we pulled apart. "She's just getting some coffee for us."

He nodded and we returned to Pietro, who gave me a concerned look. I smiled reassuringly and he relaxed before looking to my brother with a smile.

"Hey, Pietro, sorry for what I said last night," Y/B/N was quick to say. "It wasn't cool. I know you're not like that and I shouldn't have even thought it, let alone said it."

Pietro was one of the chillest people I'd met as he offered his hand out to my brother. "No worries, mate. Bygones."

They exchanged a handshake before my brother glanced to me.

"She's really good," he said to Pietro. "You'd be lucky to have her here."

My face heated up as Pietro nodded in agreement. The two of them looked to me with proud smiles and as uncomfortable as I felt with the attention, I was grateful to have their support.

"I know," Pietro said. "All she's got to do is say yes."

"You haven't said yes yet?" my brother asked with disbelief, before slapping me on the arm playfully. "Y/N! This is your chance!"

"And it's a big decision!" I reminded him.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then I caught sight of Wanda over his shoulder and perked up. She smiled my way but then noticed Y/B/N's presence and proceeded with caution.

"Hey, I got you both a coffee," she said, giving Pietro his and handing me mine, but her eyes were searching mine with worry.

My hand brushed hers as I accepted my coffee and I squeezed it reassuringly. She seemed to believe me as her lips twitched into a small smile before looking to Y/B/N.

"Hey," she said to him quietly, biting her lip.

He glanced to me for encouragement and I gave him a subtle thumbs up. This seemed to help as he wiped his hands on his trousers before looking to Wanda hopefully.

"Hey," he finally spoke. "Please can we talk in private for a moment?"

She nodded, humming in response, and followed him to talk.

"Match made in heaven those two," Pietro said sarcastically, and I tried not to laugh, but damn was it funny.

"Look, I think I've made a decision," I said after a moment, feeling my heart speed up at the realisation of my next words.

"Oh? And what is it? Will you let me publish you?" Pietro asked, quirking a brow and watching me with an excited smile.

Well, there was only the future to look forward to now.

I grinned. "Yes."

[we-love-imagines]

please bless us with a one shot or headcannons of rohan where he's like cold and distant from his crush (because, duh, the great rohan kishibe doesnt have "crushes") but heaven's door just keeps on manifesting on its own whenever his crush is around and is all smiles and is very kind and sweet towards his crush and even refuses to leave their side 😭😭😭 that little stand is just so adorable 😭😭😭😭

This is so cute!!!! I loved this ask!!! I think it’s because I adored the ova, but I’ve been in such a Rohan mood lately. I have so many drafts that are just Rohan stories, idk why. 

Also! I made some Jotaro Dating Hcs a few days ago that didn’t get posted to the tags. If that interests you at all, check it out!

Well, without further ado...

Heaven’s Door is a Cute Little Stinker Hcs

~We all know Rohan has a very prickly personality. While he’s polite and professional, he isn’t one to extend too much kindness to others, even his good friends. It’s not that he’s rude or mean (well, he is purposely mean to Josuke, but that’s besides the point), he’s just a little too self-absorbed for his own good.

~Despite the fact that the mangaka has had feelings for you for awhile now, he still acts like his brazen self around you. In all honesty, these feelings confuse him a little; he’s never thought this way about anyone before. He tries, of course, to deny his affections. He gives himself every excuse not to pursue you: He’s too busy for a relationship, you’re too friendly with Josuke for his tastes, he was too good for these feelings.

~Heaven’s Door, the literal embodiment of his soul, didn’t understand why his user was doing this. He knew, deep down, that Rohan adored you, so the fact that the mangaka could be so sassy towards you confuses the little Stand. So, in order to help his user, Heaven’s Door would sneakily manifest itself when Rohan looked away, making itself known to you.

~Rohan was a curious soul, and that trait definitely came out in his Stand. Heaven’s Door really wants to read your pages, and tries to show you Rohan’s manuscript so he can do so. It’s tiny hands will snatch the pages from Rohan’s bag and wave them around in your presence, fervently trying to get your attention. Rohan quickly put an end to this, however, snatching the papers back and scolding his Stand like a child.

~While it couldn’t read your pages, Heaven’s Door still tried to help his user get your attention. With its child-like, Cherub-ish appearance, it’s sweet little smile would make your heart melt. How could you ever ignore something as cute as Heaven’s Door?

~While the Stand itself couldn’t speak, it would still hover next to you, curiously studying the world around it as if it were a child. It would point to certain things, such as pretty flowers or interesting passerby’s, prompting you to ask Rohan what his Stand is trying to say. Rohan would blush a little, trying to call his Stand back, but explains how his Stand is always pointing things out to Rohan it thinks he should draw. It’s mainly due to the Stand’s inquisitive nature, but Rohan has the feeling Heaven’s Door has ulterior motives.

~After that, you find Heaven’s door pointing at some of your mutual friends from time to time, but you’re especially flattered at the Stand’s insistence that Rohan draw you. Not only with it eagerly point to you, but it will try and grab at Rohan’s sketchbook and place it in his hands. When it’s user tries to placate his Stand, Heaven’s Door assumes it because Rohan wants you to model for him in his studio, not out in public- so, the little Stand will tug on your sleeve, beckoning you to Rohan’s house.

~This is the point where Rohan realizes how bad he has it for you. His Stand, the personification of his true feelings and intentions, naturally gravitates towards you and tries to garner all of your attention. The more he sees this, the more he realizes how much he truly desires to be with you.

~With lots of support from his mischievous little Stand, he finally gathers the courage to ask you out for coffee. Turns out, he didn’t need to read your pages to learn that you liked him back!

[nalu4emily]

Writer’s Block

Natsu and Lucy just being cute. Because who doesn’t love a bit of fluffiness?

Sweaty. No, that made it sound gross. Hot? No, that wasn’t good either. Damn it! Why was it so hard to describe a mature scene, without making it sound ugly. Sex wasn’t suppose to be ugly; it was meant to be beautiful and should be read as such.

Lucy sat there at her desk, wracking her brain for a words to describe one of life’s most intimate moments; how deeply connected her two main characters were as they made love to each other. It was the ultimate climax, the finale of her new romantic novel that she’d spent hours writing. It was the very last chapter; the one that brought everything to a close. So it had to be good or the entire book would be ruined, but her mind just wouldn’t play ball.

It was so infuriating! That’s all she needed to continue—just one last damn word and she would be finished – her story complete.

Instead she let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped onto the table, her pens and paper splayed everywhere. The blonde needed to try and relax, maybe find a distraction from the book she just couldn’t finish, her stupid writer’s block getting in the way.

“Hey! I was reading that, move your big head!”

She knew that voice. All too well in fact, and now she was all too aware of the his presence behind her.

“Natsu?! W-What the-? What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be fishing with Happy?” Her voice uncontrolled, raising in volume with each word until she was almost yelling. Her mind was beyond chaotic; did he just say he’d been reading her story whilst she was writing it?

“I was, and now I’m here. That’s usually how time works, isn’t it?” He raised a brow at her extremely red face and stifled a laugh that was trying to force its way out. “Can I finish reading now?”

“Absolutely not! First you break in and then you read my stuff, without permission!” She could barely keep her emotions in check. How much of the story had he read? Did he even know what he was reading? “Why were you reading it in the first place? I don’t think it’s a genre you’d be interested in.”

“Oh yeah, says who?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, a cocky smirk making it’s way to his face, enjoying how flustered she was getting.

“Says… Uh…” Well shit! He’d got her there. After all these years, she’d just assumed he didn’t care that much for sex and romance, she’d never actually asked him about it. “Oh, it doesn’t matter!” She huffed, leaning back into the chair she was sat on.

“Don’t get so worked up. I like reading your stories whatever they’re about, Lucy. Your a good writer, but ya seem to be stuck on this one.” He said, leaning himself against the bed post, gauging her defeated profile as she returned to look at the scattered pages of her manuscript and sighed dejectedly.

“Yeah, your right, I’ve been stuck for ages on describing this last bit, but nothing I write seems to fit.”

“Hmm… Do you need some help?” Natsu asked, tilting his head at her.

“Help? What kind of help?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Well, where do you usually get your ideas from?” He asked her.

“Experience, mostly. But this is, uh, n-new to me…” She stuttered, feeling colour return to her cheeks as she averted her eyes away from his.

“Huh…” Understanding fully, he took a minute to help think of a solution, smiling brilliantly when one struck him. “If you have none, then get some.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in shock; what did he just say?

“What?!” She all but shrieked, making Natsu wince at the shrill noise. “I can’t just go and get experience! Do you even know what you’re saying? What you’re suggesting?”

“Sure, I do. I just read the thing, duh!”

“Then you know what is happening? What the main characters are doing? I can’t just go and do that with some random stranger.” She couldn’t believe he’d propose for her to just go out and have sex with whoever took her fancy.

“I’m not suggesting with a stranger, Lucy. I’d kill ‘em before they laid their hands on you.” He stepped forwards, placing one hand on the back of her chair, his face peering down at hers with eyes that seemed to burn right through her soul. “I had someone closer in mind.”

Her mouth ran dry. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from his dominating figure, feeling ever so small and vulnerable under his fiery gaze. “C-Closer?”

“Hmm… I’d say a few inches.” His eyes quickly glancing at the distance between him and her.

She gasped at his words; was he referring to himself? She felt adrenaline course through her veins at the hopes that might be true. But they were shattered in an instant when he reached for the piece of paper on her desk instead.

Feeling her mood drop, she glared at the dumb dragon slayer, “Natsu? What are you doing now? Give that back!” She should have known better than to believe he had the guts or the initiative to make a move.

“I’m reading what the characters are doing, you wanna make this real then we gotta copy what you’ve written.” He said, briefly glancing at her before going back to the page he was holding.

Lucy was dumbfounded. He was reading it like some instruction manual. Feeling her annoyance surface because of the dumbass she called her best friend, she tried to snatch it from his hands.

“Wait, Natsu, just hand it here! It doesn’t matter any more!” He moved quicker than she did, dodging her attempts with ease. “Hey, this isn’t a game. Stop messing around!”

Holding her back so that he could read the last little bit, she jumped at him, forcing his arm to move and lunged straight for the paper. Without warning, he moved the page away from her, revealing his face behind it and allowed her to come at him. Her mouth level with his, he grabbed hold of the sides of her head and brought her to him, meshing their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss.

He pulled away not long after, gauging her reaction, making sure he hadn’t over stepped the mark. Her face was beautifully flushed, she was standing on her tip toes with her hands resting on his chest. Gazing up a him, her doe eyes were magnetising, luring him in, wanting to taste even more of her.

She could barely comprehend what had just happened. Natsu kissed her? He’d kissed her full on the lips, on purpose no less. She couldn’t believe it. As she stared into those dark, dark eyes of his, she saw no insincerity, no tease, just pure, honest Natsu and that made her a little giddy.

“Natsu?” She managed to squeak out, his face still so close to hers with half lidded eyes, staring deeply into hers.

“I think we should perfect that first, you know before we move on to the other stuff.” The boy could barely keep from touching her, his stomach filling with butterflies. Lucy had remained quiet and still, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“T-The other stuff?” She stammered; did he mean the more heated stuff? She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, they’d only just shared their first kiss.

“Yeah, but maybe we should just keep to kissing for now, what do you say?” His infectious grin took over his cheeks and Lucy found it hard not to mirror him.

“S-Sure, Natsu, I’d like that.” She answered, as his lips impatiently pressed softly against hers, feeling those little sparks ignite.

They moved at a slow and passionate pace, hands tangled in hair and drool clinging to their lips. It was messy and new, but exciting and loving, just as it should be.

Maybe one day Lucy would find that word she was looking for; maybe she’d get to experience it for herself too. But for now, she didn’t care, her focus was on the boy in her arms and nothing – not one word could describe how happy that made her feel.

Thanks for reading! :)

[raeuberprinzessin]

Making Amends - History - Prompt 14, Chapter 14

@felixmonth

This is the last chapter I have already finished. I'm still writing, don't worry, but from now on, it will take longer, because I will have to write them before I can post them (obviously) XD

Summary: For Felix Month 2021 - beware, the chapters are not in chronological order^^

When Felix loses a bet with his cousin, he has to make amends with Adrien’s friends. Well, at least this provides a good excuse to spent a lot of time with Adrien’s “very good friend”, a certain designer, who may or may not be described as tolerable … or cute. This may not be so bad. Yeah, not bad at all.

AO3 | Masterlist

Prompts: First | Previous | Next

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

“I would never have thought of the library at the Louvre,” Alix admitted as they climbed the steps to the reading room. The concierge had recognised his companion immediately. It seems as if the skater was a regular visitor. Which made her statement just more confusing.

“The concierge seemed to recognise you,” he commented when she didn’t explain further. Alix just shrugged and waited for him at the top of the stairs. “Well, you have to have been here before, how could he have known who you are otherwise?” he huffed as he reached the top to stand next to her.

“I never said I haven’t been here before, duh!” The girl rolled her eyes. “My Dad and my brother both work here. And the library here is something like my secret weapon whenever I have to do a history presentation. Sure, Google is nice and stuff, but there is this adoration you get from your teacher if you have books and articles as sources and maybe a picture from a digital copy of an old manuscript if it fits. But I wouldn’t have thought we would find anything about something like fashion here.”

“Why not? There is a costume and textile collection, so there are also historians who obviously research them. And a museum as big as the Louvre has to have their own restoration workshop. The people there need to be able to look up what might be special about some textiles and fibers so they won’t accidentally destroy them further. And they might need to recreate costumes once in a while for certain exhibitions. They’d need reference material for this.” Felix stopped himself before he could continue. He was lecturing her and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate that, even though he volunteered to help her with the search for some reference pictures. “So … the reading room is up ahead?”

Alix sighed and shook her head. “I mean, yes, it is, but first we need to go in the other direction. The library might be my secret weapon, but every library has their own secret weapon as well.”

She led him the other way down the corridor into another big room. There were catalogue computers, computers to read the digital copies of historic scripts and reading devices for microfiche, as he knew thanks to his own extensive experience with libraries. In the middle of the room were some desks with reading lights. Felix assumed that this was where the historians might get to look at the original historic scripts if the digital copies weren’t enough, because on the left side of the room almost at the middle of the wall on some sort of platform or podium was an information desk with a young librarian able to oversee the room and help if needed. From there she would be in a better position to keep an eye on the invaluable treasures of the collection than her colleagues in the reading room who probably had to keep an eye on more people and had to leave to get books and magazines and whatnot from the stack-room.

Alix headed straight for the information desk, not even bothering trying to look for something on the catalogue computers first. The woman behind the desk had light brown wavy hair pulled back into a high ponytail. A pair of semi-rimless glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose. As they came closer he watched her narrow her eyes at something on one of the screens in front of her and push her glasses up her nose.

Felix felt his lips twitch. This wasn’t his first visit at a library and he didn’t need to know this woman to know this very typical behavior. It was something many librarians seemed to have and it meant: “Alright, I’m done playing around, now I’m talking business, pal!” He didn’t envy the poor soul who invoked this look.

They were still a few meters away from the desk when they crossed an invisible line or something like that, because the librarian abruptly looked up right at them. She seemed to recognise Alixe because only a short moment later her determined face was replaced by a beaming smile.

“Alix, that’s a nice surprise! How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” she greeted her with a hushed voice as they stopped in front of the desk. With a small gesture she let them know to sit down in the visitor chairs.

“Hi Solange, everything’s fine. What about you? Is Jalil still trying to convince you that the pyramids are ancient spaceships?” Alix asked which only ended up confusing Felix. Didn’t she tell him on the way here that her brother was a research assistant at the Louvre? How could this be the case if he believed such nonsense? The librarian, Solange Chevalier, her name tag revealed, tried to give them a smile, but she looked so helpless and frustrated, it turned out more like a grimace.

“Well, he gave up on the pyramids but now he’s trying to convince me that werewolves and dragons are real. I don’t know what happened to him. When we went to school together, he had a very rational mindset. He would never believe in a theory just because it sounded interesting. He always looked for proof for his theories. But when he started with this I … I might have been a bit harsh. Please don’t tell me he sent you to give me a message, because he’s still angry that I told him that I literally have a full library with scientific facts he should take a look at before this nonsense destroys every last brain cell he still has?”

“That’s not harsh, that actually sounds pretty tame,” Felix remarked before he could stop himself. He would have been a lot meaner if Alix’ brother had tried to bother him with that nonsense.

“Oh, this is Felix Graham de Vanily, we’re classmates. Felix, this is Solange Chevalier. She was in the same class as Jalil and came back to Paris recently to work here after she graduated … what was it again?”

“Library and information sciences” the librarian answered with an indulgent smile. Felix guessed people regularly asked that. Not because it was hard to remember, but because people didn’t bother to remember. It wasn’t as common as medicine or law and didn’t have some sort of romantically tragic connotation like any art degree. Most people wouldn’t have an idea what to visualise, so they didn’t understand it. And what they couldn’t understand, they would deem unimportant or boring. Maybe to most people it was boring, but Felix preferred pragmatic. He liked libraries, he enjoyed the vibe and all the resources they offered him at his fingertips and he knew that a good librarian was a godsend. They were like guides in a foreign country. Most of the librarians he met in his life were pragmatic and patient people and since he liked to think that he was quite the pragmatist himself, albeit not quite as patient, he felt connected to them.

Not as patient, because he once observed a librarian patiently help a not-so-old patron that this could have been excused, add an attachment to an email and send it. It took them almost twenty minutes because the patron couldn’t remember their password at first and then clicked on the wrong buttons all the time, constantly scolding themselves how stupid they were and this librarian, with the patience of an ancient and divine being, constantly tried to calm them down and assure them that they were not stupid, not everyone had to be good with technology and there were probably a ton of things they were great at and how difficult life would be if everyone was good at the same things.

He wasn’t surprised Jalil Kubdel would try to impress this woman. No one else would have the patience to put up with him. At least after everything he heard.

“Actually we’re here for research,” he tried to guide them back on topic. Interest sparked to life in the woman's eyes and she sat up a bit. “Sure, I can show you how to search in the online catalogue or I could write you a list down, if you like. Right now nobody needs my assistance, so it’s actually a good time. What do you need? Oh and you can sit down, this might take a while,” she told them and gestured to the chairs again. This time they both sat down.

“It would be awesome if you could help us. We need something on the history of fashion, especially something with pictures,” Alix explained. Mrs. Chevalier pulled up her eyebrows and gave her a deadpan look over her glasses and Felix pressed his lips together. He didn’t know if he would sigh or chuckle otherwise.

“Well, I think we might have one or two thousand titles that could be helpful, based on this alone,” she answered with barely veiled amusement. “How much time do you have?”

“So many?” Alix looked a bit pale. Felix thought she might exaggerate a bit, but not by much. On the other hand, he had a hard time estimating how many books they actually had on fashion. And that was without considering the magazines. Maybe she wasn’t actually that far off? “But it’s just fashion!”

The woman huffed a laugh and clicked something on her screen before she leaned to one side flipped a switch and the screen facing the chairs flared to life. “Remember, this is Paris and fashion is considered a form of art.” On the screen they could see an opened program in muted grey and blue colours and an almost ancient interface. It felt like some sort of relic from the early days of modern computers, when a high end computer had only a fraction of the processing power of his smartphone now. “Are you looking for a special period?”

When Alix looked at him he sighed and pulled his smartphone out to look at the messages Marinette had sent them. At 3 am last night. She was lucky it was Saturday and he hadn’t seen her yet since he accompanied Alix to the library and he didn’t want her to be able to blame him for waking her up in the morning. But she would hear his opinion about her being awake at such an ungodly hour and texting.

“Rococo dresses, Italian Renaissance, dresses again, 1920s suits and dresses,” he stopped and turned the display around and placed it on the desk, so Mrs. Chevalier could read the increasingly rambling messages herself. He would only confuse her if he read them out and she couldn’t reread them. Hell, he had to read them several times and he still wasn’t convinced he understood exactly what Marinette had been going on about. That’s why she shouldn’t text at 3 am. “The pictures are important, she needs reference pictures.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she read the messages. After a while she gave a thoughtful hum and started to type away on her keyboard starting search after search. Sometimes she clicked at a title and seemed to look for something, but he wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Sometimes she copied a title and added it to a growing list. Finally she printed that list.

“Here, I tried to find titles with many illustrations,” she explained and gave them the piece of paper. “The easiest is probably the 1920s stuff. You should find what you need in one of the fashion magazines of that time. Alix, you know what to do, I wish you luck and hope you’ll find what your friend needs.”

They bid the librarian goodbye and went to the reading room where they gave one of the librarians there their list to get the books and magazines from the stack-room while they sat down at a desk. Alix placed a small, boldly coloured box she had pulled out of her bag when they had put them away in the middle between them. When she noticed Felix’ questioning glance she rolled her eyes and opened the box. Inside sat an assortment of laminated cards, most of them just as bright and boldly coloured as the box. “Are these … bookmarks?” he asked surprised as he took one card out and eyed it critically. It looked like a piece of graffiti. Or street art, as Alix liked to call it.

“Yeah, Marinette gave me the idea,” the skater answered. “There is only so much wall in the art room at school and I have to paint over my old works regularly. So, she suggested I could take photos of my pieces and create concept art first, like she creates her designs on paper and only sews the designs that she likes. So, I only spray the concepts that work out. And since I have all these photos and concepts, I turned them into bookmarks, so when I’m here I can mark the parts I need and then scan or copy them after that. I’m faster that way.”

Curiously Felix took a few more of the bookmarks and looked at them. It wasn’t exactly his favourite art. Actually, he detested most of the graffiti he saw in London and Paris and other cities. That was, because they usually reminded him more of vandalism than art, although he agreed with all the graffiti insulting Hawk Moth. But these weren’t that bad. They actually looked like art. There was one that stood out to him. It was mostly muted colours, greys and dull blues and greens and in between all of that a dash of bright, defiant red.

Alix noticed how long he was looking at the card. “I did that after Ladybug declared war on Hawk Moth, as he tried to sway the public's opinion against them. It didn’t work out for me. One, it’s not my usual style, two, it ignores Chat Noir’s importance.”

Felix scoffed. “Ladybug could do way better than that cat,” he muttered. He remembered pretty clearly the condescending tone of the so-called hero. He didn’t know him at all! Fine, it hadn’t been one of his best days … Sure, Marinette had punched him, but he knew that he kind of deserved that. But he did not deserve Chat Noir’s holier-than-thou attitude.

Before Alix had a chance to reply they were interrupted by the librarian coming back with a cart with the books and magazines they had on their list. They put everything on the desk and started to look for reference pictures and anything Marinette might need.

A few hours later they were finally done. Indeed, the original fashion magazines had been very helpful, but there were also several exhibition catalogues with very good illustrations and photos of the exhibits and special details.

They switched to one of the computers with a scanner, started to scan what they needed and saved the scans in the cloud their school offered. After they were done, he sent a short message to Marinette, reminding her that she shouldn’t stay up the whole night, no matter how important it was to finish the design.

Alix had already started to place everything on a cart and now that he was done with the message, Felix logged them off the computer and started to help her as he noticed something hard in one of the magazines. When he opened it, something fell out but thanks to his improved reflexes - training with Ladybug really worked miracles, although his reflexes had been good from the start - he caught the laminated card. It was the bookmark with the muted colours he had noticed earlier.

“Keep it.” Felix looked up and saw the skater smirking at him. “You like it, don’t you? I have enough and as I said, it didn’t work out for me, but if you like it, it at least makes one of us happy.”

Felix didn’t know what to say, but finally he nodded. “Thank you,” he said awkwardly. “I appreciate it.”

Alix just smiled and shrugged. Maybe she didn’t know how to act in this situation, either? She pushed the cart to the counter and waited for the librarian to confirm that everything they got was there. When they were done, they returned to the concierge where they had put their bags in a locker.

Alix bid him goodbye when they left the building. She put on her skates and raced away. Felix stayed back for a moment to place the bookmark in the book he was reading. He always had a book in his bag. You never knew when you needed to distract yourself or when you had to kill some time.

He looked down at the colourful card. It didn’t work for her, Alix had told him. He could see that. But ... well, for him it worked just fine.

With a satisfied nod and a small smile he closed the book and put it back into his bag before he started his way to the next metro station.

[cuntylittlesalmon]

rewrite word count: 37284 / 90000

finished chapters: 3 / 19

guess who decided to join the writeblr ranks of wip updates? it’s me, duh, because you’re literally reading the update. i figured since i don’t regularly post content to tumblr aside from a handful of last line and hu7u tags, i would do some updates. at least this way, i get to utilize my taglist (lmao). 

rewriting this book as been a challenge. i recently hit my one year mark of working on it (02.03.21), but it’s only been serious since about july 2020, and decided to completely rewrite all 70k words i already had down back in december, after i won nano and started working back on the manuscript i set down for all of november (thing was, i could tell just how poorly i had written the rest of the manuscript, and knew i could do better). 

now, i’m a third of the way through the novel (don’t look at the chapter completion, i write nonlinearly) and i’m really fucking excited to see it through to the end. and, when i get to the end, it’ll be beta time! i’m hoping that the rest of the two thirds will only take me a couple of months to finish up, but the winter storm that hit texas a couple of weeks ago really fucked with my timeline, so it’s bit up in the air. however, i’m constantly chugging along! i’ve given a chapter to a couple of friends of mine, and they’re reactions to it have fueled me to be able to finish the damn thing.....eventually

and now for what everyone reads update posts for....excerpts! (below the cut + taglist)

chapter 7

Ashton curls his arm around her waist, pulling her in close, until her bare back is against his bare front. She supposes the benefit of having a relationship with a corpse is that the chill of his skin feels as nice as the headboard. He presses cigarette-warmed kisses into the back of her neck, an apology and I love you in every one.

“Don’t feel sorry,” she whispers, watching the star-like city lights twinkle through the thin strip of window visible beyond the curtain.

“But I am,” Ashton whispers back, lips still soft against her skin. “How can I not be?”

chapter 9

The stark change in atmosphere from the crisp air of Maddox’s town to the stifling age of her family’s manor gave Adelaida an immediate headache. She hadn’t intended on ending up at the manor—she barely even thought about her parents as she walked through the portal, but portals are tricky, fickle beasts. A stomach-churningly sweet smell of smoke hangs in the air, and dread sinks Adelaida’s heart.

chapter 4

Timo pulls out the plastic bag he put the knife away in for safety and holds it up for inspection. “Fine, we can talk where all your neighbors can here about how one of your friends tried to kill me.” He raises his voice for the last two words, speaking them down the hallway, rather than to Willis. In response, Willis closes his hand around Timo’s sweater and yanks him inside the apartment with little grace.

taglist:

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